A few months ago, someone on my Facebook friends list announced to a gazillion people that he was about to have a medical "adventure" that most would want to keep utterly private. (I'll keep the particulars under wraps, but even television doctors frequently snicker about it.)

The announcement itself would have been bad enough, but then he chronicled the procedure in all of its gory clinical glory. He probably thought this was funny … but I thought it was just way too much information. I can name a couple of people who are having trouble looking him in the eye—myself included.

Wow.

It seems Facebook has become such an integral part of many people's lives that they automatically gravitate to it whenever they want to share anything. And I mean anything—even beyond silly personal stuff and into highly confidential information that could put lives and entire countries at risk.

Last month, an Israeli soldier revealed on Facebook the time and place of a scheduled raid on the West Bank. He even announced the name of his unit. He was "unfriended" by the Israeli army shortly after (read: kicked out and court-martialed) and sentenced to 10 days in prison.

His confidential update occurred even after Israel had launched a full-scale campaign highlighting the dangers of sharing military information online.

It all makes me wonder if social networking has made us lose our secrets and our minds.

Last week it was "a." And as I lamented my sore throat and killed time—why is it that doctors never have to wait on us?—I read the Denver Post's funny pages. (I also did three crossword puzzles because it was a lonnng wait.)

Anyway, it turns out that some comics aren't really comical lately. Sometimes they just hit very close to home. There were several that didn't make me laugh so much as say, "Ouch," and not because my throat was on fire.

One comic strip showed a family at the dinner table. A daughter was listening to an iPod. Another was texting on an iPhone. The father was gazing into an iTouch, and the mother was said to be "iRate."

A second cartoon showed a teen who decided to quit spending so much time on Facebook—so he asked his Facebook friends for suggestions on how to cut back (!).

A third strip showed a hoard of strangers flocking to a man's door and saying, "Hi … We're your Facebook friends."

If you're an armchair sociologist, it should probably alarm you that three nationally syndicated comic strips had a similar theme on this random day, especially since that theme was technology's damaging effect on relationships.

Besides these cartoonists, am I the only one who sees reason to be concerned about devices and sites, or am just I a Luddite who needs to get over it?

How has technology affected your family and friendships?

And we're talking some serious negativity. Take a look at this, written following the Grammy performance:

or …

Ouch.

Swift isn't without support, though. Her label, Big Machine Records, came to her defense. CEO Scott Borchetta said, "She is the voice of this generation. She speaks directly to [her fans], and they speak directly back to her. This is not American Idol. This is not a competition of getting up and seeing who can sing the highest note. This is about a true artist and writer and communicator. It's not about that technically perfect performance."

But Borchetta's comments haven't stopped ongoing criticism—maybe because the performance magnified what some people thought of Swift before the Grammys: Taylor-haters have long contended that she's an overhyped, underdeserving superstar.

But maybe some of the ire stems from something else. Since Taylor's music is relatively wholesome, I wonder if that's part of the fuel behind the condemnation. I've heard less fresh-faced but equally famous artists give stinkers of a performance—but suffer no public censure whatsoever.

So is Swift, because she's "nice," more likely to draw outrage than, say, Lady Gaga if her vocals were flat? Are some people inherently turned off or made nervous by Taylor's sweetness in an industry that usually pushes sex, drugs and, well, rock and roll?

What do you think about it all?

A Nicholas Sparks novel-turned-movie first shocked me with its tear-duct-draining ability in Los Angeles when I saw The Notebook. At the end of the show, even grown men in the enormous, loudly sniffling audience were grabbing for tissues. Dear John is more of the same: a far-fetched, histrionic flick from the Sultan of Sap. (Sparks probably owns stock in paper products.)

This picture didn't leave me teary-eyed, though women were crying all around me. I was just really irritated with Savannah (played by Amanda Seyfried), who jilted her soldier fiancée, John (Channing Tatum), while he was deployed.

Nonetheless, after recovering from my blinding ire and others' sobbing, I learned something from this film: Visceral reactions are often worth reexamining.

When reviewing the movie, I had to look beyond my own emotional blinders. I had to consciously step back and reevaluate the positive content in the film in order to be fair to Sparks and his cast. To her credit, Savannah does stick with her man in the end—and, OK, it's not John, but at least she's made a commitment. And John's self-sacrifice and forgiveness, which could be called redemptive and somewhat Christ-like, are worth some reflection.

Now, these things aren't enough for me to say, "Run out and see this picture!" Frankly, you're probably better off not, especially if you have a head cold. But they were enough to make me reconsider my own predispositions. I remembered anew to step back and give the benefit of the doubt.

Nonetheless, this week's Up Front article, "It's Good to Be Bored," (written by yours truly) featured thoughts on stillness, and how being at rest or deep in thought is often confused with boredom in our culture. More specifically, the article dealt with the importance of being still and reflective enough to allow our minds and spirits a chance to process what's happening in our lives. To think and explore. To learn and accept. To know God and ourselves. To figure out why certain middle-aged men enjoy Star Trek reruns SO much.

Anyway. Nowadays many people seem to consider soul-searching something reserved for a couple minutes of church each week, if that. But is that enough in our manic, disjointed world? (Or are we so used to it that we don't see our insane pace?)

And if you feel like you don't have time to breathe, let alone contemplate, pray or journal, then what are some ways to get more breathing space? Or is being still and silent for a time about as appealing to you as wearing Spock ears for 24 hours?

If you are still and deep in thought for a time, I promise nothing strange will happen. You won't, for example, start to speak Klingon. But you will learn a few things about God's presence. And blessings to you when you do.

One of my great-grandmothers was an opera singer (without the cool spear and Valkyrie horns on her head, unfortunately). Her range was upward of four octaves. My range, however, is probably a measly five or six notes and really unimpressive.

And very, very unlike the cast of Glee. Apparently, those people on that Fox comedy can sing. (Of course, they also have digital enhancement and pitch correction, but still …)

They sing so well, in fact, that they’ve single-handedly brought glee club and a cappella singing groups back into style. Such clubs haven’t been in style for two or three decades, and had in fact been labeled "geeky." Previously uncool rep or not, though, "Gleeks" as Glee fans call themselves, are being inspired to sign up for singing groups. In droves.

The show premiered in May, and since June, meetup.com claims the number of singing groups has jumped 45%, from 27,475 to nearly 40,000. High school and college teachers around the country have also noticed a similar upsurge of interest in singing and musical theater on campuses.

Whether you’re intrigued or repulsed by Glee (see our review for more info), has a television show ever inspired you to pursue an interest? To take up a sport or hobby or to even investigate something that you wouldn’t have otherwise? I’m just curious. I mean, I can’t sing well, so I have to do something with my time.

My first thought was,

She looked dirty. Like her hair was matted and could have used a long visit with Head & Shoulders. Then there was that huge nose ring. I hadn’t seen many pierced nostrils before—and only "bad girls" did it then—but Christina Aguilera wasn’t afraid to buck society with nasal trinkets. That 2002 picture of her still sticks in my mind. (In a maybe-I-should-shower-again sort of way.)

Her grunginess aside, the once-rare nose ring can now be seen everywhere. Trendsetter Christina paved the way for cleaner cut Miley Cyrus, Scarlett Johansson, Jordin Sparks and Kelly Clarkson, and even for Jane Doe and some of my friends and family members. Probably yours too. It seems to have taken just a few Hollywood celebrities and some photo spreads to reorganize lots of people’s thinking on the matter.

While I’m no longer shocked by holey nasal cartilage—in part because I’ve also seen countless women with studs overseas—it can still cause controversy in the United States.

I know. Last week out of sheer curiosity (and impishness too), I walked into the office wearing a fake stud on my left nostril. I did it because I wanted to see how much of the stigma remains—and more important, assess what the nebulous stigma is.

The tiny Austrian crystal got interesting comments from the few who noticed it—but only after I’d told them it was fake. Among the remarks? Some said things like, "It looks so genuine! I love it! Get a real one!" Others, however, were less flattering, saying, "Women who do this are insecure or angry," or, "Women who do this are vain and careless," or, "They’re just looking for attention."

All over the map, aren’t they? But certainly less disparaging than they would have been 10 or 20 years ago. And that’s largely because of media.

So now I want to cast the net wider. In your part of the world, is this kind of piercing becoming a more acceptable societal norm much the way ear-piercing has over the last 50 years? Or do you think the stigmas are more often true than not? Most important, why do you feel the way you do?

For the record, I will never get my nose pierced. I don’t especially love my snout, but I’d like to keep it intact. Even the slim possibilities of infection, scarring and necrotic tissue just aren’t appealing. And honestly, dealing with the labels I’d probably get, coupled with my own second-guessing, aren’t either.

I listened. I nodded in agreement occasionally because she had some good points. But when she finished, I said, "You seem really passionate. But what exactly are you fighting against? God made men and women equal but different, and that’s His perfect will. Why would we want to cancel that with an androgynous culture?"

For a second, she looked like I’d slapped her. Luckily the plane was landing, so our conversation lasted only 30 more seconds before seatbelts flew off. And she never really answered my questions.

Don’t get me wrong. In our broken world, there are gender-related injustices. And I’m no shrinking violet, having been in the workforce all of my adult life, often in patriarchal foreign countries, and I’ve enjoyed being an adventurous teacher, writer and world traveler. But if given the chance and a family to come home to, I’d actually love to do their laundry and make dinner for them. And I have no problem with women happily fulfilling these roles full-time and looking at it as a ministry.

The fact this sociologist so adamantly fought such roles makes me wonder what’s promoting the indignation.

Maybe television is part of the mix. According to a study on the rank of women by Maria Shriver and the Center for American Progress, "Women’s professional success and financial status are significantly overrepresented in the mainstream media, suggesting that women indeed ’have it all.’"

It’s true. According to The Nielsen Company, the top five jobs women hold on TV are: surgeon, lawyer, police lieutenant, district attorney and cable news pundit. In reality, the Department of Labor’s 2008 statistics show the most common jobs for women are (in order): secretaries and administrative assistants, registered nurses, elementary and middle school teachers, cashiers and retail salespersons.

I am not saying women shouldn’t be cashiers or strive to be doctors (so please don’t send me hate mail). My cardiac physician friend is pleased as punch with her decision to go through med school and she’s helping patients left and right. But what I do wonder is whether television subtly pressures women to be "more" than a mom. Do "more." Achieve "more" outside the home because the doctor’s or attorney’s lives seem to be what's best and most exciting, on television, at least.

So what do you think? Do shows such as Grey’s Anatomy, Private Practice, House, and CSI subtly suggest it’s not enough for a woman to love her husband, raise quality human beings full-time and make killer Italian dinners when they come home at night? Do they inspire women to, in fact, do more and try to "have it all?"