Things I've Learned

Baby Brother is very brave. He took all his birthday money and ordered a unicycle, which he is now teaching himself to ride. Dad and I are trying to help him, but neither of us know how to ride a unicycle ourselves, so we're mostly there for support. (Literally—learning to ride a unicycle seems to involve falling down a lot. Don't worry; Baby Brother also got a helmet and knee, elbow, and wrist pads.)

I won't be teaching myself to ride a unicycle anytime soon. Even if I was more interested in doing so, it's hard to make yourself learn new skills once you reach a certain age. There's no time, and for some reason the older you are, the more you get judged for starting something new.

I've been learning a lot just through life, though, especially this past year. Next week marks a year of serving as a Relief Society president, and that in itself has been a course in leadership, in teaching, and in so much more.

For example. I've always avoided making friends with girls who seemed really into hair, makeup, or clothes. Mostly because I assumed they wouldn't want to be friends with me. Which is odd, because I have friends and associates from all kinds of backgrounds, all of whom I respect and admire for various traits.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: We have different political views? We can still be friends!

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: We have different religious views? Even up to the point of you actually hating my religion? We can still be friends!

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: You wear eyelash extensions and I don't? We can never be friends! We're too different.

Sounds silly, but sadly not an exaggeration. Much.

Enter Vix, my second counselor. I've always thought she was pretty and stylish and cool, but she's a cosmetologist and always looks like she's about to star in a photo shoot or something. Out of my friendship league for sure. Being around her made me kind of nervous.

But you know what? It turns out that we have more in common than you would think. I consider her a friend now, and we've formed a great bond that means a lot to me.

I've come back to this post several times now, and I feel a need to add something thoughtful and wise to it. But what? "Don't do drugs, kids"? "Stay in school"? "Never eat a porcupine"? No, that's not it. Well, whatever wants to be said, hopefully it will come out tomorrow.

In Which I Break Up

A few times over the last few years, I've joked that even though I don't have a boyfriend, I'm in a long-term relationship with this blog.

Well.

Well...

The blog and I are breaking up.

When I started the blog, it had a clear purpose. As my life has gotten more complicated, that purpose has been muddied somewhat. Don't get me wrong; I've enjoyed the journey. It's just that after five and a half years, I'm losing track of all I truly wanted to say.

I was planning to start phasing the blog out this year, but then I felt like I shouldn't. Since then, I've been wondering what it is that I should do.

The answer came in an unexpected form: President Nelson has received revelation that it's time for us to stop using the term "Mormon" to refer to ourselves. I've never loved the term, since it's originally a slur and also an inaccurate way to define what I believe, but since that's what most call us, the Church has tried to reclaim the term and proudly own it.

Well, no more. From now on, we refer to ourselves as "Mormons" no longer. We're going to start being sticklers for the proper terms: "member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints" or "Latter-day Saints."

I think this is great. However, "Awkward Member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Girl" isn't exactly catchy. So I'm taking it as a sign that it's a good time to lay aside this blog. The last post will be September 22nd. (If there's anything anyone would really like me to write about between now and then, I'm taking ideas.)

I don't think I'm going to quit blogging; I think I will probably eventually start a new blog that will be a sequel of sorts. But I'm still thinking about it, especially because I don't want it to be just the same as this one. I want it to have all the good parts of this blog but be even better. (I'm taking ideas for that, too.)

Book Recommendations

From time to time, people ask me about my favorite book. The truth is that I have fifteen favorite books. They're not the only books I recommend to people, but they're often the first ones I recommend.

They are (in no particular order):

Danny the Champion of the World, by Roald Dahl: This might be the only children's book Roald Dahl wrote that has no magical hi-jinks. It's all stuff that conceivably could happen in the real world, including a vivid scene of teacher-child beating taken straight from his own life. (The teacher is basically a more violent version of Severus Snape.) The main plot of the story has nothing to do with teachers; it's about a boy named Danny who lives with his father just outside of a small British village. His father is a very exciting person and, it turns out, secretly a poacher. (Almost everybody in the book is secretly a poacher.) They concoct a mad plan to make a statement by poaching every single pheasant from a nearby wood. The plan involves raisins and a baby carriage. It doesn't involve Danny's friend Sidney, who does almost nothing the entire book except exist unnecessarily. IT'S A GOOD BOOK, THOUGH.

The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy, by J. R. R. Tolkien: I know, I know. Cliché, but I do love 'em. They are far, far better than the live-action versions in every conceivable way. The Return of the King might actually be my favorite book of all time. Except that the ending has always been difficult for me to swallow. Although just recently, I've started to accept it.

Harry Potter, books one through seven, by J. K. Rowling: I've talked quite a bit about Harry Potter on this blog, so you should all know my feelings. My favorites are the first and the fifth. The fifth book is amazing. So intricate. So many good jokes. So much Luna.

Romeo and Juliet: Together (and Alive!) at Last, by Avi: I actually kind of hate Avi, but this book is comedic gold. Well, it was before I read it 10,000 times. It's about a group of students who decide that the only way their friends will confess their love for each other is if they star in a production of Romeo and Juliet. Combine all the awkwardness of elementary school crushes with all the cringeyness of student-directed productions, and voilà.

Bloomability, by Sharon Creech: This one's about a girl named Dinnie who has been overlooked her entire life. She ends up studying abroad in Switzerland, and...well...this book has some complex ideas about people and political conflict and language and all sorts of interesting things. It really makes you think.

Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie, by David Lubar: This book is also pretty complex. It features an aspiring teenage writer named Scott Hudson who's just trying to figure out high school. It raises some interesting questions about being true to yourself no matter how much you may not fit in and why treating other people well matters, even (especially) when they have nothing that benefits you. There's also a lot of English language cleverness in general. No one that I've recommended this book to has ever disliked it. After Best Friend Boy read (well, listened to) it, he was inspired enough to take me to see a movie that had a similar story (called Tim Timmerman, Hope of America). Good stuff.

Are You Ron Weasley?

Tomorrow is Harry's birthday, and I already have a Harry Potter-related post lined up. But as I was thinking of what to write today, another Harry Potter topic came to mind. So you're getting twice the Harry Potter for the same price! (Which is free. It's all free. But...you know.)

A year ago, someone told me that as they were re-reading the Harry Potter books, they found they were disliking Ron more and more. This person starting listing all the actions and traits of Ronald Bilius Weasley that they disliked. As I listened, I was amused and amazed. Because goldarn it if the actions weren't things that this same person had done and if the traits weren't ones that this same person shared.

I think that people can't appreciate Ron if they don't believe in redemption. Ron reminds us of all the thoughtless things we've done to people or that they've done to us, so it's easy to just say he's a jerk and be done with it. To see Ron clearly, you have to measure him not by what he failed to do for Harry (and Hermione) but by what he did do for Harry (and Hermione). He would do anything for them, and he pretty darned well did. It's not just lip service when during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Ron is the "thing Harry would miss most."

"But Ron screwed up!" Yeah. Ron screwed up. So what? Are you really going to say that a lifetime of loyalty and love and friendship means nothing because of a few bumps? Please note that every time Ron screws up, he admits his mistakes and tries harder and does better. Ron gets the second chances we all wish we could have, and he doesn't take them for granted. We should all want to be more like Ron.

Of course, you can't be Ron if the people in your life aren't Harrys and Hermiones. In a word: forgiving. Most people are, though. Most people don't want to throw cherished relationships away with both hands, and they're more likely to greet you as a prodigal than they are to cast you aside.

If you feel like a Ron right now—if you hurt someone and regret it and want a second (pr third or fourth or fifth) chance, try to get one. Tell the person that you hurt that you're a Ron. I mean, don't tell literally them that. (Unless the person is me. I'll understand what you mean.) But tell them that you did something stupid and you're sorry and you want to try again. You'll have to humble yourself first. Do it anyway.

And always remember:

"Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn’t he? He—well," Ron’s ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, "he must’ve known I’d run out on you."

"No," Harry corrected him. "He must’ve known you’d always want to come back."

Flying a Kite in the Dark

I decided I wanted to fly a kite in the dark.

My parents were freaking out, saying, "That's dangerous!" Here's the thing though...there are streetlights everywhere, so we can see everything even when it's technically dark, so how is it dangerous?

I guess I won the argument, because I was allowed to fly a kite around 10:00 p.m. in the front yard with my brothers.

It was everything I'd hoped and dreamed it would be.

That's all.

Meet Marco

Remember how I impulse-bought a car?!

Well, okay, back up. I told you about how I impulse-declared my intention to buy a new car. I didn't tell you what went down after that.

My dad got on board immediately. He texted me to ask what I was looking for in a new car.

I'd been thinking about this. I told him that I wanted another Honda. Five years old or less. $X,000 or less.

Dad hedged a bit. He was kind of all, "Honey, that's unrealistic." But he took it upon himself to search the world wide web, and he quickly found a beautiful, beautiful 2014 Honda Civic EX. It was a salvage title, so it fell perfectly within my price range, even though it was technically worth more.

Anyway, long story short, I decided to get a new car on a Monday. That Saturday, Dad and I drove through light snow and deep slush to test-drive the Honda Civic. I hated driving a car that didn't belong to me in the snow, but even I had to admit it handled like a dream. It had all-weather tires and a backup camera and a right-signal camera, things that made driving in the snow much less scary.

It quickly became clear that this new Honda was the one for me, so I bought it. Bought him!

Meet Marco!

He's named for Marco Ubaldo Diaz of Star vs. the Forces of Evil fame. Since Marco has a red hoodie and all!

I miss these things about Bernard:

• Sunglasses holder
• Low dashboard
• Actual speedometer (Marco doesn't have a speedometer needle, just a digital MPH reading, so it's difficult for me to gauge speeding up and slowing down)
• His personality
• Not having to worry about ruining his paint job

I love these things about Marco:

• Backup/right turn signal camera
• Bluetooth speakers (I can play music from my phone and get directions broadcast, too)
• Radio volume control built into the steering wheel
• Sporty, nice look
• Significantly fewer interior stains
• Significantly fewer exterior scratches, dents, and dings
• Temperature reading
• Estimated miles per gallon reading
• Takes less gas than Bernard but goes the same distance per tank

Both my Hondas had/have moon roofs. And the interfaces and warning lights are very similar since they are the same manufacturer! Marco did have a couple issues off the bat, and I worried that I'd made a bad decision. But I kept feeling like everything would be fine, and it has been. Overall, very satisfied with my choice. Although Marco can never replace Bernard, I'm super into him, and we're having a great time.

Gut-Spilling Syndrome (the Anti-Blogging Blog Post)

When something really hurts me, I don't like to share it. When something is really important to me, I don't like to talk about it. Such tendencies are difficult when you run a blog.

The source of my blog material is my life. If I don't share, I have no blog. I've had to get used to sharing some of my thoughts and feelings, although some things are always off the table (you'll never hear my actual political views unless you ask). The problem is, though, once you get used to sharing, it's tempting to treat the entire Internet like your diary. I call this Gut-Spilling Syndrome, and it's an issue.

Case in point: relationships. I've seen some blogger peeps spill intimate deets about their interpersonal relationships all over the web. If the other person in the relationship assents, then there's not really anything ethically wrong with that. But. The relationship really isn't just between you and this other person anymore. It's kind of between you, the person, and anyone who reads about it. And make no mistake—these relationship interlopers will give you their opinions whether you want them or not.

Several years ago, I saw one blogger couple share some pretty tender stuff about their marriage. Their blog audience took that as an opportunity to tell the couple about the flaws they perceived in the relationship. I read through the comments: very nosy, very over-reaching to the point of being horrifying. I thought people were trying too hard to armchair diagnose these people they'd never even met. Later, the couple decided to separate, and in their blog, they parroted language similar to the the comments folks had made years earlier.

Were the commenters clairvoyants who highlighted issues the couple refused to acknowledge before? Or did their words get inside the couple's heads, sowing doubt and raising questions about the solidity of their marriage? Either is possible, but no matter what actually happened, the bloggers spilled their guts to strangers and...pardon my language...prostituted their relationship repeatedly to milk content for the blog.

Don't get me wrong: I think there's a place for going authentic and personal in this medium. I just don't think it's appropriate or useful to treat a blog as a sort of diary and commenters as therapists, though. I just don't.

Royal Wedding

When I was a piddly little child, Older Sister one day said, "We're going to dress up today! A princess just died, and we're going to watch her funeral!"

We raided our dress-up box. I wore a fluffy skirt and the blue velvet jacket, which I thought too sophisticated. Then I watched the funeral on TV with Older Sister and Dad. It was very boring. Thus I've never watched a British royal function again.

When William and Kate got married, I was eating breakfast. It was a very good breakfast—leftovers from Red Lobster's ultimate feast. There were biscuits galore. There were crab legs. Fried shrimp. A lobster tail. A bit of baked potato. Even some appetizers. It was glorious, except for the tedious sounds coming from Older Sister's laptop as she and Mom sat at the kitchen table and watched like their eyes were glued open.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: I'm trying to eat. Do you mind watching that somewhere else?

OLDER SISTER, MOM: Yes.

Since then, most of the knowledge I've gleaned about the royal family comes from article headlines that I glimpse on the MSN homepage. The still-single Prince Harry has been the subject of many a headline. For years, folks opined over his lack of settling down.

Well, guess what? He done settled down. Whether he settled, period, remains to be seen. I wouldn't know. I know zero about Meghan Markle.

Although, actually, thanks to MSN headlines, I learned quite a bit last week. Every day, articles said things like, "Meghan Markle's Sister Is Causing Drama!" "Meghan Markle's Father Decides Not to Walk Her Down the Aisle!" "Meghan Markle's Father Decides to Walk Her Down the Aisle After All!" "Meghan Markle's Half-Brother Insulted Her Mother and Is Literally Trash!"

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Oh my gosh! Who the heck cares?!

Everybody but me, apparently.

(This is a long way of saying no, I did not watch the Royal Wedding 2.0.)

Not Our Place

Season Two of A Series of Unfortunate Events just came out. Once again, the series has reminded me to consume media and use social media platforms in a responsible way.

Several years ago, following some kind of national tragedy, a classmate posted something on Facebook that I’ll never forget. (Disclaimer: by that I mean, “I’ll never forget the gist of it,” not that I have it memorized or something.) The classmate said something to this effect: one of their family members once passed away in a violent incident. People of all different political views seized the incident to promote their preferred political causes. The classmate said that while all of these people had points, using this classmate’s family member’s death to promote their own agenda was incredibly insensitive and interfered with the family’s grieving process. Basically, the classmate suggested that we not use tragedies that didn’t personally affect us to further our political causes. At least not right away. There should be a space that’s private and only for grief before political rallying begins.

That perspective deeply affected me. Over the years, I've come to agree that space is needed for people to grieve after tragedies. In fact, I would argue that maybe the political rallying should never begin. Obviously there's value in talking about the meaning of things, but is it our place to decide the meaning of someone else's personal experience? Is that really okay?

When my classmate shared their feelings on the topic, another classmate retorted that they believed the personal is political. It's okay to believe that, and it's okay to use our own personal experiences to promote our political agendas if that's what we want to do. But it's not really okay to decide for other people that their personal experiences must be politicized.

How to Survive a Crisis

If you're facing a real crisis, like an earthquake or a fire, then I can't help you. You're dead.

Sorry!

But if you're facing an emotional crisis (like An Interpersonal Crisis), then I might be of some help.

So...in case of a non-earthquake and non-fire crisis, here are some helpful tips:

Take care of the basics. Have you eaten? Have you slept? Have you had a glass of water to replace all the liquid you lost through your tears? Have you brushed your hair? Have you fed your cat? Or your child? Make sure you do those things. They're the last things you want to do right now, but if you do them you'll have a higher capacity to face what you're facing. Promise.

Do what you normally do. Get yourself out of bed and go about your business. I know your world is spinning out of control. I know everything is terrible. But guess what? Routine helps. Usually. As awful as it is to do mundane tasks when you're completely devastated, it's arguably more awful to sit around and think of how devastated you are.

But don't overdo it. If you absolutely cannot do what you normally do, give yourself a break and relax. Go to your favorite Chinese buffet and read a book and pig out. Watch your favorite TV show. Read something uplifting and inspiring. The only caution with this is to be reasonable about it. You can't avoid your real life until you feel better because chances are you won't feel better for a while. But you can give yourself one evening—one day—one weekend where you do nothing except what you feel like doing. You just have to be disciplined enough to return to normalcy after your one whatever is over.

Surround yourself with people who care about you. Sometimes that involves actively seeking out friends and family. But. You'll be surprised at how many people can scent your troubles and will come flocking to you with little to no effort on your part. They will say nice things, visit you, bring you gifts, and hopefully let you vent to them. Be warned: some of them will give you advice. Some of the advice will not be applicable to you. Try not to be offended. They undoubtedly mean well.

Do things that make you happy, and plan things to look forward to. Again, be disciplined. Don't spend money you don't have; don't eat a ton of stuff that's bad for you or shirk your normal life in the pursuit of numbing pleasures. But...splurge a little. Live a little. Go out of your way to enjoy yourself. You need it.

Think about someone else. It sounds trite, but it really helps to lose yourself in someone else's problems. For one thing, it helps you feel valuable. For another, it keeps you from becoming completely self-absorbed and molasses-bitter.

Cut yourself some slack. You'll feel good for a few days. Maybe even a few weeks. Then something may happen that reminds you of your crisis, and you'll just fall to pieces. Guess what? You're grieving. The pain's going to come in waves, in fits and starts. Accept this. Learn to deal with it.

In other news, supposedly good fortune is coming my way.

Yes please.

To Whomever It May Concern

According to Timehop, four years ago today I tweeted a blog post written by one Eli McCann.

I've talked about Eli McCann's blog here before. Don't necessarily consider these mentions an endorsement for Eli McCann; I definitely can't say we share the same beliefs even though we're members of the same religion. I don't agree with a lot of his conclusions. However, I find his writing to be interesting, thoughtful, and funny.

This is the post I tweeted. I tweeted it because it reminded me of what was happening in my own life. Now, four years later, I find myself in a similar situation as I did then. The post still strikes a chord. It's about a profound strain in a relationship with a friend who roomed with him on a tropical island for a year. I'll share some relevant segments with you:

...we were both angry with one another. Really angry with one another.

I won't go into all of the whys and hows. Frankly, I don't think either of us even know all of the whys and hows. But in our final weeks in Palau we had grown apart considerably. We never really talked about it. But we both knew that serious frustration had built up, and we got to a point where both of us resented the decisions and actions of the other, from the benign to the significant....

...I had made some decisions that really really upset Daniel. I didn't know that they upset him at the time and I didn't believe he had any reason to be upset anyway. Many months later, when we finally spoke candidly, I learned how life looked from his perspective and I could see how some of my actions could have been so insensitive and hurtful to him at that time. And I felt absolutely terrible about this. Daniel reports that he experienced something similar on his end after he considered some of his own actions and reactions.

Don't get me wrong. We never hated each other, or even stopped caring about one another's well-being. We had just lost a lot of what we had, and all of this because we were acting in ways that were extremely hurtful to the other without ever discussing it....

...He was the one person who could really understand everything I had just gone through for what was probably the most difficult year of my life. And he didn't even seem to care about me or, apparently, intend to ever see me again.

I hated that this was the way he had chosen to make me feel. I hated that I had done whatever I had done to him to make him wander off so callously and carelessly. I hated that I didn't really know what that thing was that I had done. I hated that I hated when this moment should have induced feelings of nostalgia and love and profound significance.

When I tweeted out the post four years ago, I prefaced it with, "I may have cried while reading this..." I'm not going to say that again, but if I did, I wouldn't be lying.

Now I'm going to give you some unsolicited advice. I've always liked this quote by Ambrose Bierce: "Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret." Even though Ambrose Bierce was a total downer, he had a point. We all say stupid stuff when we're angry. So if you swore yourself to a course of action when you were angry, such as that you're going to kill someone for revenge or never talk to someone again to make a point or never talk to someone again to make a point and then kill them for revenge—that's dumb. Don't do it. It's something you decided to do when you were angry and weren't thinking clearly. If you think about it again for five seconds when you're calm, you'll realize that you don't actually want to do that. Release yourself from your angry vow and make new, calmer vows that involve kindness and behaving well and giving others the benefit of the doubt.

If, while you were making your angry speech, you said some mean, mean things to hurt someone else, then reach out to that person and let them know you regret it. You're not sure how they'll receive your apology? Make it anyway. If you wait for signals that show they're not mad, you could be waiting a long time. They probably will stay at least somewhat mad until you apologize! It's a self-defense mechanism. If they stay mad at you, they can't be hurt by you, right? It's just easier for them that way. So you may have to be the first one to reach out. There's nothing wrong with that. If anything, it can be good for ya to practice your humility.

In short, don't kill the relationships you care about because you spoke hastily and are too proud and stubborn to humble yourself even though you regret how things played out. Rant over. Stepping off soapbox. Going to bed.

A Different Approach

I can't tell you how many times I've heard people say, "You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of anyone else!"

Yes...but also no.

Maybe I'm just worse than everyone around me, but I'm extremely needy, and for months I haven't felt like I was in a good place. If I wait until I feel taken care of to help others, I won't ever offer anything to anyone else. I'll always have an excuse. So rather than focus on fixing my own despondency (which fixing usually leads to fixating and only makes things worse), I often try to seek healing by healing someone else.

Not a permanent fix, but it helps.

At the Polls

I'm noticing that more and more people are conducting polls on Facebook, Instagram stories, and Twitter. Sometimes I think they're genuinely trying to crowdsource their decisions...but more often, I think it's just for fun.

A previous blog I created on Blogger (before Blogger became the armpit of the Internet) had a little poll widget on it. I'd ask random questions, such as "What boy should I have a crush on?" (Yup...I was a teenager...don't judge too harshly.)

I don't think Blogger's capable of handling poll widgets anymore (RIP Blogger's usefulness). But just for fun, shall we have a poll? We shall. We shall be meta and have a poll about polls.

The poll is: Which of the following polls would you be most likely to participate in?

A) A poll asking who Awkward Mormon Girl should date (for old times's sake)

B) A poll asking where Awkward Mormon Girl should travel (I actually would like this advice)

C) A poll asking when Ask Awkward Mormon Girl should be a thing again (it's overdue)

D) A poll asking which Harry Potter character is actually the worst (because I am constantly stymied by the number of people who think Ron is the worst character when clearly it's Snape)

Be an American and vote!

Light the World (Again)

I guess last year's Light the World went really well, because my church is doing it again this year.

Let's review: For Light the World, you do 25 acts of service over 25 days. Last year I shared my acts of service every day on Twitter. This year, I decided to do the service but not post about it daily. Also, last year I just did any kind of service and didn't follow the suggested themes (particularly because I was in Disneyland for four days and had to just grab service opportunities as they appeared). I'm following the themes each day this year, though. In some ways it makes it easier...in some ways it makes it harder.

In any case, 'tis a wonderful way to spend Christ's season!

I Don't Like Slack

Slack. You've probably heard of it. I'd say it's 50% website, 50% app, and 100% trending in the world of business. It's supposed to save you time at work. If you want to discuss something with your coworkers, instead of shooting them an email, you just chat them up on Slack. Bada-bing, bada-boom. Quick and casual.

I used to have a coworker who was obsessed with Slack. I can remember several times when I emailed him and he asked if we could move the conversation to Slack instead. He created tons of different Slack chats and used only the finest gifs offered. He basically had his own little Slack workplace empire.

As you might have guessed from the title, I don't care much for Slack. Here's the thing: even if Slack does save time (and I'm not convinced that it does), it's heckuva inconvenient. I still have to have my email open even when I'm using Slack. Slack just becomes one more window open on my PC that I have to minimize and maximize while I work.

Well, I found out the other day that I'm not alone! There's a modest movement called "Slacklash," fueled by people who think Slack falls short of its intended purpose.

Anybody else use Slack at work? What do you think?

The Not-So-Cute Meet Cute

Just so you know, I met a Canadian today.

Not what I want to talk about, though.

As you may have inferred, I'm working on a writing project related to Verona. Thus today I was sitting at a poolside, meeting a Canadian, and reading the scene in Romeo and Juliet where the teenage lovers meet. As a bit of research, that is.

That's how I discovered something shocking: the meeting of arguably the most famous couple in literature is not cute.

See, Romeo sees Juliet from across the room. He asks a servant who she is, comments on her super hot appearance, and then walks up to her and starts talking about kissing. And then they kiss. And then they discover that their parents hate each other forever.

Contrast that to how I met a Canadian today. This middle-aged Canadian woman and I met at the pool. She offered me a place at her table. I asked her where she was from. She said Canada. She asked me where I was from. I said Utah. I said I was attending a family event, and she said she was visiting friends. Then we didn't talk anymore.

That meeting is probably cuter than Romeo and Juliet's meeting. Just saying.

P. S. I'm in Arizona.

My Review of the All the Phase One Marvel Movies

After I decided that I was more into Marvel movies last year, my brothers also got into Marvel movies. When Baby Sister moved out, Little Brother moved into her old room (which was previously my old room), and Baby Brother got his own room. My parents let him decorate it, so now it's an Avengers-themed room.

His favorites are Captain America and Spider-man. Those are also my favorites. (Our mom's favorite is Falcon because she thinks Anthony Mackie is attractive.)

We also decided to watch all relevant Marvel movies in order before Infinity Wars comes out. We just barely started Phase Two, so I thought I'd give my thoughts about Phase One.

Iron Man: An all right intro to the franchise, but it didn't blow me away. The entire movie kind of dragged. Tony Stark is a fun character, but he's better with friends.

Iron Man 2: Black Widow is a welcome addition here. (Like I said, Tony Stark is better with friends.) The movie dragged a lot less than its predecessor. Justin Hammer might be my favorite Marvel villain.

Thor: Lots of fun moments. I don't find either Thor or Loki to be very compelling characters, though. Best part of the movie was Hawkeye's introduction IMO. Also, this one is much harder to follow if you're not familiar with the comics, advanced physics, or Norse mythology.

Captain America: The First Avenger: Utterly heartwarming, though the subtitle of the movie should more accurately be "Sneaking Patriotically into Buildings." As I said previously, the big issue is that it doesn't feel like an entire real movie. It's more like an appetizer for The Avengers, and although lots of fun characters are introduced, most of them don't get to do anything.

The Avengers: This movie is the superhero movie that made me care about superhero movies. Each hero has an actual personality and character traits. The movie does a nice job of handling the ensemble cast of heroes. Some cool shots, great dialogue, good scenes.

How to Not Be Awkward Around Girls

A blogger I've been reading does "search string" posts. On Blogger, there's a report that shows the search terms that lead readers to the blog. This blogger writes posts about those search terms so that everyone who comes to her blog can find value.

Interestingly, the search term that most often leader people to my blog is "recycling jokes". So there's that. But a recent term that someone used to find my blog is "how not to be awkward around girls".

How to not be awkward around girls? Hmm. Well, if that's what bringing people to my blog, then I suppose I should try to provide an answer.

(It seems fair to assume that the searcher was most likely a teenage boy, so I shall hereafter refer to the searcher as "dude".)

Dude, here's my advice to you (cliché though it may sound): If you're awkward, just be awkward. You're probably not as awkward as you think you are. Even if you are as awkward as you think you are, most girls are not going to be as judgmental of your awkwardness as you are. The right girl might even think it's cute.

Hope that helps!

Reality Isn't Very Realistic

Before I became a professional writer, I was a creative writing student. Before that, I was an amateur child writer who shared my works only within my small circle of such friends and colleagues as amateur child writers have.

Sometimes, when I got a draft back from a fellow creative writing student or amateur child writer friend, there would be a comment along the lines of "This part isn't realistic...it's too coincidental."

Although I can agree that in many cases this feedback improved the draft, I find it strange that we demand our fiction be realistic and not coincidental. Reality isn't actually very realistic and it's often coincidental. As Mark Twain said, "Truth is stranger than fiction." And as I say (inspired somewhat by my history professor), "I find reality to be very strange."

I should define what I mean by "coincidental". Some people believe that life is chaos and randomness. I don't believe that. I believe that, like an author, the God of our world has put a lot of time and thought into building a reality full of delights. I personally don't think it's a coincidence when the person you've been thinking about all day just happens to be at the grocery store or when you have a hard day at work and then someone brings you cookies. Those are what we LDS folk call "tender mercies," and I believe that the hand of God is in them because He cares about us. There are other things that I would consider coincidences, like that you and all your closest friends were born on the 11th day of different months (I'm just making stuff up here). And yet, I still don't think those coincidences are as coincidental as we'd like them to be. I don't necessarily think they have any special meaning, but I do think they're little fun things that God threw into the design of the world...just for fun.

Anyway, whatever you believe coincidences are, life is just full of 'em.

Consider this: three of my four grandparents were born in the same year. Now, it's not very weird that my dad's parents were born in the same year, since they met in college. But both my parents' mothers were born in the same year, which is really weird. Statistically speaking, when you consider how many fertile years an adult woman has in her life, the chances of you marrying someone whose mother was born in the same year as your own mother are very low. Like, I legitimately don't even have any friends whose mother was born the same year as mine. Shutterbug's mom is probably a couple years younger than mine, but she's the only one who even comes close. A friend in junior high's mother was six or seven years younger than mine because she gave birth in her teens; Viola's mother is about 20 years older than mine because she gave birth in her forties. The span is wide.

What about this? Older Sister is a brunette; I'm a blonde (though not as blonde as I once was). Little Sister is a brunette; Baby Sister is a blonde. Little Brother is a brunette; Baby Brother is a blonde. Our hair colors alternate perfectly.

Or this? Little Brother was born on our dad's mom's birthday, and Baby Brother was born on our dad's dad's birthday. I mean, yeah, Little Brother was induced the day before our grandma's birthday, and there was a decent chance of him not coming until the next day. But Baby Brother came on his own about three weeks early. There's no accounting for it.

I've been thinking about this a lot the last few days because of a true event that no half-decent editor would ever let a writer put in their novel: an acquaintance who lives here in Hometown contacted me with some questions. The conversation ended, and I thought nothing else about it. A few weeks later, that acquaintance went to New York City, where there are literally millions of people. Yet he still happened to run into Older Sister outside a theatre and then asked her about the same topic!

In short, if fiction is supposed to mirror real life, then it should have more, and not less, coincidences.

Super Popular Baby Names that Everyone Is Giving to their Kids

Do you have a baby? Are you going to have a baby? Are you coming up with names for that baby? Well, I’m here to inform you that I know lots of people who have babies, and over the past five or so years I’ve noticed some names which are really popular. Like, I know of at least three people with different backgrounds, beliefs, or even just aesthetics who gave or are planning to give the same name to their babies. Case in point: the Chess Master, a middle-aged relative of a more liberal friend, a sweet childhood friend who was considered unpopular/unfashionable by some, and a super popular girl I went to school with all gave their sons the exact same name.

I’m not trying to knock these names by including them on this list. I actually think most of them are super cute (and I’m jealous that I didn’t have kids before some of them became overused)! I just thought it might be a good service to list some of these names for those of you who don’t want to do the same thing as everyone else.

These super popular names are, in no particular order:
Girls: Sadie, Olivia, Nora, Ruby, Millie, Alice, Lucy, Lydia, Zoe, and Grace (or some variation thereof)
Boys: William, Liam, Henry, Christian, Oliver, James, Samuel

How many of you know 3+ small children with one of these names? Did I miss any other obvious ones?