I’m an eternal optimist, and when I say this I mean I’m the kind of person who believes that even the lowliest crack head can be redeemed, properly groomed, and turned into a CEO of a Fortune 500 company. I loan money to people and actually believe them when they say they will pay it back. For reals. I have no idea where I picked up this asinine bit of bullshitery, but I’m 42 years old, and I think it’s safe to say I’m stuck with it. I still believe wholeheartedly in true love and glitter. It’s a core part of my identity. I also think that all people are basically good. Okay, you can stop laughing now. You might be inclined to think that this Pollyanna attitude springs from being the prized only child of two adoring middle-class income parents who, armed with plenty of positive reinforcement and some extra spending money for Ms. Pac-Man, managed to shield me from the harsh realities of the world. Nope. Nothing could be further from the truth. And yet. Yet. I still believe in people, I can’t help it. And you know what? I like it that way.