Admittedly, I am a registered Republican.

But, an active campaign volunteer, I’ve campaigned for more Democrats than Republicans. I vote for whomever I want. And I don’t like particularly like Kool-Aid. Not at all.

I loved growing up in the Pacific Northwest.

But I live in Utah now and have come to love its quirks along with its beauties and I get a little riled when commenters go on an “I hate Utah” kick.

I have been a faithful member of the church my entire life.

But the whole Prop 8 thing challenged my faith in ways I never expected and made me look long, deep and hard into what I believe.

I am female.

But I prefer salty over sweet, campy vampire or superhero movies over chick flicks, and dogs over cats. In a conflict I usually get mad and get over it instead of the alternative.

I am a quilter.

But sewing makes me swear.

I am approaching 50.

But I still remember the sting of 15. Like a child, I get excited over the simplest of things. And sometimes I like to play in the dirt.

I love what I do for my paid job. I frequently get props at work. We have interesting clients. I know what I do makes a difference for them.

But my heart is at home. I make unseen sacrifices in my “career” so I can put my family first. Because I know what I do makes a difference for them.

I love to go out with girlfriends and talk late into the night.

But I’m also an early riser. My internal alarm usually goes off between 5:15 and 5:45 a.m. (Between you and me, I think the siesta people have it right.)

I love Mother’s Day. It’s a great time to reflect on the joys and perils of motherhood.

But I also hate Mother’s Day. It’s like someone is holding a high-powered magnifier on mine every imperfection and projecting it onto a JumboTron at LaVell Edwards Stadium. Last year we had to sing Love at Home. Twice.

I don’t dust.

But I change out my dish towels and washcloths every day.

In my heart and in my head I know that I cannot make other people happy.

But sometimes it still stings a little when my best is not enough.

Occasionally, I like to crank it up and listen to The Cars, Muse, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Ting Tings or Keane alone in my car.

But in recent years I’ve discovered a love for Gregorian chants, chamber music and the soulful sound of a well-played string instrument.

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Last summer I attended a studio night with Leslie Graff (Sound fun? It was. Want to join me at another one this summer?). As she unpacked her supplies to share with us, I noticed Leslie had a significant number of tiny brushes in various shapes and sizes, as well as an entire rainbow’s worth of paints. Paints that created even more colors when mixed together or painted next to or over each other.

She did not get out a giant roller brush and slather the same color of paint all over an entire canvas.

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Do you find you have preconceived notions about people based on politics, gender, religion, economic status, what they do for a living, or anything else? What is most likely to shatter those notions? When that happens, how does it make you feel? Do you tend to prefer or associate more with people who think like you do? Are you comfortable discussing differences of opinion, ideas or experiences with others?

What assumptions do people make about you that just aren’t true?

“Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honoring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities.”–Author Unknown

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1. Mysterious Ways?
2. Promises . . .
3. Thanksgiving: Last Night’s Phone Call