I don’t know if I’ll ever have daughters but I’m afraid by the time I do I will have forgotten how hard it is to grow up as a girl. I often think of what I will want to tell her/them and I don’t want to forget.

Dear Daughter(s),

Be funny. A sense of humor will help you through everything. I hope you know you can be funny. I’m assuming, since you’ll grow up in a post-Tina-Amy-Amy-Mindy-Chelsea-Melissa-Kristen-Leslie-Elizabeth-Jennifer-etc-etc world you’ll know that but I’m afraid that you won’t. Someday I’ll teach you about Lorne Michaels and Paul Feig and everything they did for us. If for some reason you’re not funny I will think about disowning you but I probably won’t actually.

Dear Daughter(s),

I am really excited for you to listen to Taylor Swift as you go through your teenage years. It’s too bad she didn’t do anything after her Red album.

Dear Daughter(s),

Remind me to make a list of all the benefits of being female that I can give you the first time you get your period. It’ll probably take me thirteen years to come up with something so I’ll start working on it when you’re born.

Dear Daughter(s),

If I ever tell you you can’t wear something please assume I have your best interest in mind, but also feel free to remind me that I have worn the following things: knee-high bright orange boots (with a white skirt and green shirt to look like the Irish flag for St Patrick’s Day), multiple pairs of wolf leggings, trucker hats, neon colored high-tops, striped sequined pants, and worse.

Also, feel free to remind me that I often said Miley Cyrus should be admired for her unapologetic forms of self-expression.

But please never dress like Miley Cyrus did in 2015.

Dear Daughter(s),

You can take your husband’s last name if you want to.

Dear Daughter(s),

There’s no such thing as a sensible career, only the career you love and the career you love to work hard at.

Dear Daughter(s),

If someone is touching you in a way you don’t like I want you to tell them to stop. If they don’t stop immediately I want you to punch them in the face. We’ll deal with the consequences later.

Dear Daughter(s),

You’ll only be 1/8 Syrian but I want you to know that you come from a heritage of strong and brave people. Maybe you’ll be able to tan well. I’m excited that you might get a chance to grow up around Syrian people as more of them are immigrating to America.

Dear Daughter(s),

Please don’t read my journals until I’m dead.

Dear Daughter(s),

Forgive me because I’ll probably name you something other kids will make fun of but at least you won’t have to have your last initial  on your name tag.

Dear Daughter(s),

Don’t tell the other kids you know Santa’s not real…or at least break it to them gently.

Dear Daughter(s),

Try not to fall for guys who spend more on jeans than you do.

Dear Daughter(s),

When I was a teenager the only person I’d cry in front of was my mom. I hope you’re not as emotionally stunted as I was but it’s okay if you are. I’ll be there for you when your heart gets broken. I will always believe you can be anything you want to be. I will defend you.

I’ve had my heart broken by boys, friends, teachers, and other people I trusted not to let me down and you will too. I will probably say something like “life’s tough but your tougher” or “just get over it” but it’s okay if you tell me you don’t want to hear it. We can just cry and eat grilled cheese and french fries together or over the phone.

Dear Daughter(s),

Never pay full price for anything.

Dear Daughter(s),

Hermione was the real hero.

Checking the messages on our work machine is one of my least favorite things because I have to go through the series of 4 numbers, then wait, put in 5 more numbers, wait, 1 number, wait, 1 number. We had two separate phones, meaning I was supposed to go through this process twice, but I got that changed. It’s a nightmare for someone who loves efficiency.

Yesterday, I go through the whole process to check one message. The message said (in an irritated tone) simply, “[It] isn’t working, what are we going to do to fix this?” [quick hang up].

I was taken aback (and a little bugged) at first but then I thought, wouldn’t it be great if she actually meant that? She didn’t leave her name or number so I don’t think she actually had any intention of helping, but she said “we.” Now I understand that passive-agressiveness is a part of our society but I thought about finding her number in the call history and calling back, “Hey, thanks for wanting to be a part of the team, I would love to explain the process to you and how you can help.” Now, I’m judging but I don’t think she wanted to help and I’m not even sure she really wanted to understand why there was a problem.

I like problem-solvers. I try and surround myself with them. It makes life easier and more enjoyable.

I’ve been working in public service for just about 8 months now and it’s really opened my eyes to how much people complain and how much better it is when there are people in the community who see a need and do what they can to fill it themselves. Want to see a music or arts festival? Start one. Want to see upgrades to the parks? Want another dog park? Vote for the RAP tax. Or pull a Leslie Knope and get your friends to build a park with you (I can’t confirm if that’s legal or not but I saw it on TV so…). Come to council meetings. Go to any meeting, really, and speak up while you’re there, try and come up with solutions. If you’re worried about the youth of today go coach a sport or find another opportunity to be a mentor.

I see so many people doing awesome things. People are solving hunger, helping women get educated, making playground equipment that conducts electricity. Just listen to NPR, there are some good stories. It’s amazing and a lot of it happens just because someone is motivated enough to pull together the resources to do something.

It’s really easy to see the problems around us but I believe it’s also pretty easy to try and come up with solutions. Not every problem has an easy fix, but a lot of them do. If you have the energy to complain I’m sure that energy could be put to some good use. So, if you’re going to complain, be an active complainer. Take the sarcasm out of “What are we going to do to fix this?” and it’s a pretty good mantra.

Everyone should create.

“You might say, ‘I’m not the creative type. When I sing, I’m always half a tone above or below the note. I cannot draw a line without a ruler. And the only practical use for my homemade bread is as a paperweight or as a doorstop.’ If that is how you feel, think again…” – Dieter F. Uchtdorf

You can create. Because there are people all over the internet right now creating content. Not only that, people are consuming that content. Whether it’s “good” or “bad.”

They might use too many adjectives and run-on sentences. Maybe they are littered with typos and have winding plot lines. The important thing is that these people have used their imaginations and put words on the page. That’s more than I can do somedays. I also learned that sometime fan fiction in the form of a screenplay can get you a job.* Fan fiction has also been known to be published and reach the top of the Best Seller list.**

Recently Jase reminded me how great fan fiction can be and inspired the first idea I’ve had for a YouTube series that might actually result in more than one video. And with that I would like to present:

Fan Fiction Fridays are brought to you by the artists at Channel 17 (because we just can’t get enough of each other during normal work hours).

*It just hasn’t worked for me yet

**How this happened has yet to be understood but maybe throughout the course of this project I will come to understand better.

I’ll be honest. I didn’t feel very patriotic this 4th of July. I had been working hard all week and was sleep deprived. I had to wake up around 5am to go to work to broadcast the parade. We got one review, “such low quality it wasn’t worth watching on TV.” The streets were covered in litter. Apparently people walking the streets and camping out for said parade felt that uglifying the city is a great way to celebrate. I was tired, hungry, and said “I hate people” more often than I should have.

There was a moment though, during the fireworks that were giving me a headache, where I thought, “I am so grateful I don’t live in a country where there are actual bombs going on outside my door every day.” Then today at church we sang patriotic songs. One of them has a line that goes:

America! America! God mend thine ev’ry flaw,

That line stood out to me for the first time when I was singing it. America is flawed. I don’t have to tell you that if you’ve heard any news story lately. People aren’t always nice to each other. We’re still dealing with racism and people being discriminated against for all kinds of reasons.

But we have it pretty good.

Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

We know, of course, that freedom isn’t free.

O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life!

Mitt Romney posted the following on his Facebook, something I’m not sure I ever really thought about.

“Anyone ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence?

Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army; another had two sons captured.

The last thing the world needs is public displays of my stream-of-conscious writing but it’s the third and once again I haven’t written.

I could write about how I am being forced from my home because it isn’t zoned for us, even those I asked the landlord specifically if it was zoned for the three of us and he said yes, no problem. (Did anyone else read that in an Arabic accent? No? Just me?). But then everyone would get worked up and pity me and as much as I love being pitied, I want you all to save your energy.

All you need to know about the last two days is that the city that hired me to work for them has also betrayed me. But as Tess pointed out that basically makes me Batman.

But I will issue this WORD OF CAUTION. Most Provo landlords suck. Be careful what they don’t tell you or what’s in the fine print and also you will straight-up get lied to.

I could talk about all the ways guys have it easier than girls using only examples from the last two days of my life: Birth control pills. Peeing in a cup. Wedding dresses. Heels. Price of swimwear.

And I could write more but for some reason instead of writing I just read about 25 celebrities who don’t drink…and by read, I mean scrolled through their photos.

I want to be friends with Blake Lively.

It’s Day 2 and I already want to give up. I’m the weakest.

It’s Groundhog Day so I’ll make a list of topics I could talk about over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Nah, forget it, I’ll just do that tomorrow.

Hi, it’s me. I got engaged and fell off the face of the planet–you were expecting that, weren’t you?

Ugh, so cliche.

So I decided a couple weeks ago that I would officially start my New Year’s Resolutions on February 1st because it seems like a good starting point. Why should January have all the fun? And I’m sure the gyms are less crowded now.

One of my big goals was to write everyday. Here. And it is now 18 minutes until February 2nd and I have nothing.

I could fill you in on all the things you missed from last month like…

• How I was unemployed for a month–fun ends tomorrow so that’s over.
• How I felt about Selma —It’s black history month so I can slip that in still.
• How I feel about 50 Shades of Grey –that one hasn’t come out yet so there’s still time to express those feelings.
• I still wear leggings.
• I sorta wanted the Seahawks to win.
• How much I loved Treat Yo’self 2017 and the rest of the last season so far.
• How I didn’t meet Mindy Kaling but had an intimate conversation with her tinted window (I’m saving that for some day when I’m on a talk show and need an embarrassing celebrity story to recount).
• Wedding planning…and how it’s exactly like making a movie.
• The two movies I saw (and loved) at Sundance.
• How I got viruses trying to steam the Bachelor and other moments I’m not proud of.
• A well-thought out feminist rant about the new Ghostbusters–I’m sorry but how can it not be brilliant with those ladies and Paul Feig?
• How I can’t believe that Hershey’s would do such a thing to America.
• How I fell in love with a single beauty product…the boar bristle brush.
• Legal Scamming*: How I’ve gotten clothes for way less $$ than they are worth.
• *I guess the kids would call that a Life-Hack and other ways I’m out-of-touch.
• How I fell in love with Master Chef Jr: And other residual side effects of watching television for a job.
• Registering for My Wedding: Please Someone Get Me a Roomba.
• Give Ava an Oscar.
• Someone Please Take This Cat Off My Hands.
• Please Someone Find Me a Home that Allows Cats.
• “You can’t just keep faking your death through life” and other lessons learned from NBC’s Marry Me.
• Someone Should Hire Me to Be a Life Coach.
• Reality Shows That Make Me Cry.
• Whenever Landslide Comes on I Cannot Not Listen.
• I’m Getting Married on the (Pitch) Perfect Day.
• Why You Should Say Yes More
• Why You Should Say No More
• Tai Pan Trading: Where Everything Has Fake Rust On It and I Still Want It.
• Things I Would Do For Money.
• High School Musical’s Legitimate and Meaningful Affect on the World
• Facebook Posts I Wanted To Troll But Didn’t.

It’s 11:59 so you get no conclusion.

See you tomorrow!

…Seven years later they fell in love.

That’s the tl;dr version.

Here’s the long version:

Wyview 2007: Freshman year. Young, impressionable 18-year-olds meeting for the first time as they lived just around the corner from each other. Jeff spent most of his time rock climbing and Lauren spent most of her time trying to impress people with her baking (lack of) skills and eating cup-o-noodles. Not the time for love to blossom.

Jeff went on a mission to Argentina. Lauren went on a mission to Italy. 3.5 years passed.

Add a few more years of life experience and some awkward Facebook exchanges and then…

Then a week of me being super stressed because I knew it was coming and was trying so hard not to ruin the surprise that I was breaking out in hives (we’re talking literal hives–all over my body) for two days. Romantic, right?

We exchanged Christmas gifts and he got me a dope Feral hat and watch (pictured below) but no ring…

My friend Alessandra told me she needed someone for a photo project so I agreed. I was suspicious along the way but by the time I got there, even though Jeff was acting super weird when he dropped me off, I was lulled into a false sense of security and complained to Alessandra that I just really wanted him to propose. And somehow she kept a straight face because after that he did…He and some of my wonderful friends snuck up on the photo shoot…

And Alessandra, with her camera already out, captured it:

THEN there was the Christmas party that night that I thought I was planning but wasn’t. It turns out when I showed up it was a SURPRISE engagement party for us. Completely with all kinds of engagement puns to go with the desserts. I’m glad that my friends/fiance are so uncomfortable keeping secrets from me because that means they don’t do it often. And I guess I can’t say I wasn’t surprised because look at that face…

I love Jeff because we are always smiling and laughing together (as pictured above). He thinks I’m super hot even in oversized sweatpants and I love that he is kind of guy who will carry my purse in public (actually I think that might be more embarrassing for me than it is for him–I should rethink that). It’s been a long time coming and a short time coming all at the same time but mostly it’s all worked out fine by me.

Basically being engaged feels like this:

It’s Tuesday, but let’s pretend for a second that it’s Music Video Monday because I want to talk about this little Christmas gem from the Killers… When I first watched this I was like, why is this so sad? Why is everyone bullying him? Why are you making me cry for Christmas, Brandon Flowers? Also, how come I can’t squeeze a piece of coal in my hands and turn it into a–what is that, 100 ct–diamond? Then by the time it gets the end, if you’re paying attention, you can realize that it is a happy story after-all. It’s a story about the real meaning of Christmas. Christ came to turn our sadness, our misfortune, and our sins into something better. Even if we make mistakes, even if the other toys make fun of us. He can heal us. Merry Christmas.

In honor of National Cat Day (since I’m not particularly attached to any feline) I’m going to talk about something that bugs me…Cat-calling.

Seen this shared a few times and just wanted to add my own feelings. So here are my feelings: it sucks. People on the internet have been like, “Oh, people are just being nice and giving compliments.” I don’t feel good when a stranger tells me I’m hot. I feel insecure. Funny how that works, but it’s true. And anyone can tell the difference between getting hit on and sincere flattery. It’s not that hard to tell.

Once upon a time I was upset when a coworker told me I “had to smile at him now” because he had done something I had needed him to do for my department. My boss didn’t get it and I don’t really blame him because how could he? He’s probably never been told to smile by someone twice is size. He probably doesn’t know all the connotations that goes with those kinds of statements. No matter how well-intended something might be (and usually it’s not) I’m tired of other people feeling like my outward appearance is what is worth commenting on. You don’t get to tell me what to do with my body and I don’t have to smile just so my face is nicer for you to look at.

This rant…

So, yeah, you can tell yourself to just ignore them but you can’t really ignore the anxiety of being called out and feeling like you have to respond or worrying about the consequences of not responding. It’s hard to not be afraid when you’re constantly hearing stories of abuse, kidnapping, rape, and violence. When most of the world is afraid of you going out on the streets alone. We are trained to be afraid and it’s because we have reason to be. One in three women have been abused. One out of every three women.

It’s hard for me to get over the fact that some people will never take me seriously because I am a woman. That even my position or age or experience doesn’t matter. It’s hard to know how to dress or talk or act while knowing it won’t make much of a difference. It’s hard because people don’t realize how bad it is. I would love to just ignore it as people suggest, but it affects my daily life and the lives of people I know even more and that bugs me.

I’m not sure how we teach people to be nice and decent humans who can interact without being aggressive but it’d be nice to try and figure that out. Men to women, women to women, women to men, men to men…Why can’t we just treat each other like equals? We are so much more than the bodies we are in.

And I’ll close with this video because it points out just how ridiculous it all is: