And then, I came home.

Around 10:20 last Wednesday night, this happened.

When Lindsay first showed me this vid snippet, I watched it nine times in a row and cried. My family is my whole life.

Speaking of which, for those of you who are wondering-- my life is really good. I know lots of people have a hard time coming home from missions... but I always knew I would not be one of those people. I just really enjoy things like sweatpants and couches and talking to my mom instead of strangers. Having free agency is so low stress. I love it.

More things that I thought would be weird but (so far) aren't:

 - My little sister is getting married in August to someone she met while I was gone.
I'm surprised at how normal it all feels. As I see it, I get a new friend who has no choice but to love me!  because somehow we're all going to be glued to each other for forever. WIN.

- Not having a driving sense of purpose each morning. 
It's actually a huge relief. My only goal for the next 3 months is to end up with a good haircut and become beautiful. I recognize that this is probably the last true season of rest I will ever get in my life, so I am very committed to it.

- Television, music, my first name, the English language, and pretty much everything else involved in normal life.
Every day I promise myself I'll go to bed before 1a.m., but it's a goal I have yet to achieve.

And a couple things that surprised me.

- Scripture study is hard to fit in when your whole life is unstructured. 
I'm grateful to have sisters who are good examples to me of diligence, because it takes a ton of effort on my part to crack open the holy writ now that no one's salvation is being influenced by the quality of my personal study.

- Costume changing = Complicated.
Part of my environmental homeostasis involves lounging about in running shorts 24/7... and now I have to live a higher dress standard law. It's not that I don't like being reminded of my temple covenants... I just don't like wearing clothes, in general... I'm still trying to figure this one out.

-I'm not a huge fan of shopping.
I don't know if Heavenly Father is training me for poverty or what, but it took a full week to give in to the idea that I might be interested in owning more than 2 pairs of shoes.

-While I was gone, the whole world decided to get pregnant.
My friends make motherhood look gorgeous.

- Subconsciously, I thought my homecoming would be, I don't know, kind of a big deal. 
So I came home and... everything was normal. I was kind of surprised that first day when no one begged me to tell them mission stories or show them one thousand pictures of people they don't know or teach them Spanish.

Then I remembered how I felt when most of my friends came home. I couldn't have cared less about their missions-- I was like PLEASE JUST BE NORMAL or else I will have to hide from you when I see you on campus!  But to be fair, it's true. Missions are special, but they are special to you. And you loooove your mission, but everyone you left behind just looooves you.

Don't get me wrong-- missions are the very best. They are the hardest, and they mean the world to you. And you will swear that those months changed the rest of your life and your eternity- everything you are and everything you want to become- and that you would not trade those experiences for anything. And then, like most callings in the Church, missions have releases.

I feel like I can honestly say I loved being a missionary.
And then I was released. (which I expected to be dramatic; it wasn't.)

And now, I love being a normal human being again.

It's really nice.

Twenty for Twenty-Twelve

This post concept was stolen shamelessly from my friend Kelly, the delightful indie princess I hope to one day become. The original idea was one picture for every month– you know, like, 12 pictures total. But I am so terrible at consolidating. So here it is.

JAN brady

MLKJ day

FEBby webby

Sarah's [London] bridal shower!

MARsha brady

Orbit commercial.

APE ril

International lovers.

 

mother MAY i

Hiding all the boys' furniture in our room. So worth it.

I forgot this picture ever existed. What a gem.

JEFFERSON. We were so smitten. Best internship ever.

they say when you marry in JUNE...

Our faces are streaked with mud. Ballers.

More internship, but doing real work this time.

Alex Boye. He's British, so kind of a big deal.

JEWEL eye

Merica.

AUGUST rush

Lots of girls get their wisdom teeth taken out so they can look more like me.

"This is the crew– mia familia"

SEPTimus severus snape

Call me Bear Grylls, minus the au natural ice baths and drinking elephant poop.

OCT over

Good news! Hogwarts is real.

NOV– is very very extraordinary; E–

BYU women's soccer

Mission call to the San Fernan!

back to DECEMBER all the time

Broadcast Journalism: by definition, the best-looking major on campus

"Rudolph" came to visit this year... I especially liked his sock hooves.

Chattanooga Girls. now; forever.

After the most disappointing apocalypse ever, let's ring out the wild bells. 

Cheers, 2013!

Awesome Things That Have Happened Lately

1.) So, first, there's the obvious.

You know that annoying newly engaged girl who doesn't just act like she's the first person to ever fall in love, but like she freakin' invented the institution of marriage??  Yes, that is me. I don't know anyone who has served in San Fernando before, so it's basically like I am opening mainland China. It's still so fresh. I will listen eagerly to your unsolicited mission advice for at least two hours.

2.) I have the best major ever. Not only are they, by definition, the most attractive people on campus– they are also the absolute nicest. This just gave me the warm fuzzies. LUV U SO MUCH, BROADCAST BABIEZZ!! I'll post more on you latah.

2.) Harassed my friend Audrey into singing an open mic night with me so I could not fail my guitar class. The entire Cullen family came out to support, which made us feel oh-so-loved. 

 

All my favorite vampires.

3.) My first 100 at the testing center. Perfect Score! it told me. chh. About time– I've waited four and a half years to read those words. THANKS, YOGA FINAL! You really came through for me there. [In hindsight, I don't know why I didn't take a picture; my posterity will never believe me.]

4.) The last Friday of classes, my roommates and I all stayed in and had a baby. I fed her milk and sang her Skinny Love– AKA the only song ever written with the word "suckle" in it. She waited to spit up until literally the second I handed her off to Shannon. atta girl, Lydia.  

5.) You know the running store by Macy's? 26.2? Yeah, not only do they give student discounts, they give them based on your GPA. Not just a promo deal, all the time. I got new running shoes [finally] for 25% off. You can't beat that, people. HOLLA for local business!!

6.) Temple Square. One of these photos is not like the others. See if you can spot the difference:

(a) pretty.

(b) pretty.

(c) pretty.

Oh wait, why is that demon voodoo doll hanging out on the top of the nativity? Were we out of stars, or what?!?

7.) USGA testimony meeting. No one excels like these guys at living the gospel while keepin it real. Many wonderful spiritual things were shared. But here was my favorite line of the night:

"I love you guys even more than Lana Del Ray." 

8.) That last post I wrote about the mission call finally surpassed in readership the post I wrote this summer about the Bachelorette. Seriously, what a relief that we all have our priorities in order. I feel like there's something wrong with me when everybody likes my dumb jokey posts more than [all two of] my touchy-feely ones.

But don't get me wrong...

Mission Stuff, No Joke

So you understand where I'm coming from, there is another post in my drafts folder entitled Hermana Hermana, which was admittedly, pretty hilarious. And a lot of the things in there are true, such as, "I am so excited to go serve in a place that allows me to flush my toilet paper." But a lot of those things were not, like, "Did you know Hermana Hermana is actually a DisneyLatino knockoff of Tia & Tamara Mowry's Sister Sister?"

I was worried that someone (probably from the far-off hills of the South, the promised land God has gifted to all mankind,) would read this and think I wasn't totally serious. So before this blog becomes a bushel and a peck full of light and snarky missionary observations, I thought I'd make sure we're all on the same page.

Firstly, Thank You. If you are reading this, you've already heard the news and liked the facebook status, and most likely, you also are my grandma. I have been so deeply moved by all the support I've received these past few days (and weeks.) Thank you for being excited and happy for me, because it is definitely more than I deserve.

I've been pretty anti-mission for the last little while. I felt so left behind and lonely and I hated having to make new friends every year. I judged girls for going because I assumed they were just scared of graduating college and moving on with their lives. I judged boys when they came back and talked with that upward inflect at the end of all their sentences– and still had buzzed hair. I hated the "guess where I'll be called!" games and I hated detailed stories about former investigators. I hated how the visitors' center sister missionaries pounce on you because they have no one to teach. I hated Mission Prep class in Sunday School. I hated those ugly sister missionary shoes. (Still hate those, actually. You check my feet in six months and see.)

I don't know what to say, except that I don't feel jaded anymore. It was a very definite (and perhaps 180º) shift. I was watching the first session of General Conference at my friend's house, and all of a sudden I felt like someone had thrown me a life raft. Like I had just been handed the opportunity to do this great thing that I had wanted to do since I was nine, and... that it wasn't too late for me. In a number of ways. Getting the call took a couple months, but I knew right then. 

Guys, I'm so happy. I'm so happy to be going to California and I'm so happy to be speaking Spanish. A few weeks ago I was doing my favorite hobby, which is heart-to-hearts-in-the-car. My papers had just gone in, and my friend told me what he wished he'd understood when he first got to the Dominican Republic was

God does not owe you anything. 

He doesn't owe you a job when you get back, or good grades, or a beautiful spouse. He could 'Job' you and it would still be more than enough. He would still have given you everything. 

He doesn't owe you anything. It is your privilege to serve. 

And that's how I feel. Like I have this one-in-a-million opportunity to give back in the same way that Jesus Christ gave. To live in the way He lived when He was here. To devote my whole life– for a year and a half, at least– to serving people and loving them and trying to share the joy and the comfort that the gospel brings me.

In my head, I have this awesome plan of how I'll go home and have so much fun living with my family for a few months. I'll jam every day with the sibs. I'll train for one last half-marathon. I'll Elle Woods it and rock the LSAT after studying hard for a month. Then I'll go on a mission and come right back to BYU Law School, where I will avoid massive debt and be able to roll my R's as I order my own papusas from that one place on Center Street.

But if that doesn't happen– if none of that happens– then I want you to know that to me, it will still be worth it.
Worth it and then some. God doesn't owe me anything; it is my privilege to serve.

Just like it has been my privilege to study at BYU these 4.5 years. The dorms, London, DC, and every apartment complex under the sun (except you, Liberty Square! You were seriously the worst!) Every person I've had the pleasure of knowing or serving or loving these past few years. Always, always, the privilege has been mine.

Thanks for being so wonderful, people of Provo. You are truly as good as they come. 

To My Darling Future Husband

Today I found this letter to you on my computer. It must have been written sometime in the last couple months, although I confess I have no idea when.

Hi, Huz.
I was just thinking about you today. And how my friends are finding the people they want to marry.
About how fun it’s going to be when we both realize we're there. 
In the meantime, I’m going to go on a mission– so you know, just keep it real for the next couple years and then we’ll get on that.

Love you,
Lauren

How tender. My eyes are misty with sentiment even as I write this. Way back in beehive class, I made a list of the qualities I wanted my Future Husband (always capitalized) to have. Turns out, all the important and charming personal characteristics I came up with are not actually dealbreakers.
New Rule: In the battle of (a) nicer than me, (b) funnier than me, and (c) smarter than me, I only get to pick two.

Since we're all older and wiser, we know how foolish those lists were. Mine was foolish because I was TWELVE when I wrote it, and knew nothing about what is important in life. Instead what I really need is

an updated list

• a great appreciator of music. but does not seek out classic rock, no matter how old you are. also does not have a crush on Taylor Swift. even if you liked her at the beginning, you now recognize her as an emotionally stagnant lyricist, and also a dating psycho. 
• if you ever had to play Star Wars trivia, you would lose miserably.
  ha. like you would ever play Star Wars trivia in the first place.
• loves to cook, or, loves to say things like "thank you so much baby– that cereal just hit the spot. you are the best ever."
• enjoys the sense of superiority you get from my total lack of sports knowledge. is at peace with the fact that I will never flip to ESPN as long as abcfamily continues to run quality programming like Princess Diaries 1 & 2.
• I like the aesthetic of couples who kind of look like they could be related. [this is only as weird as you make it.] so ideally, brown-haired boy, someone could post a candid of us on siblingsordating.com.
• a wearer of glasses. they will be prescription, and you will be unbelievably handsome in them.
  *in defense of wire frames: I actually have a soft spot for these. it shows me you aren't trying too hard. not like I would ever wear them, though– so style is up to you.*
• an experienced camper. good at starting fires and other boy-scout things. handy with a knife. excellent with directions.
• well-informed about the world, without being that guy who posts 500 political things on facebook every day.
• an incredible conversationalist. hilarious without being too mean. you know– nicer than me, funnier than me, smarter than me.

I think that pretty much covers all of the essentials.

The Internship That's Not About Bunnies

In nine days I start my internship with the National Council for Adoption. Doing "media relations" and "shadowing their attorney on the Hill"- so basically, I have no idea either. We're just gonna let this thing fly.
Also, in case you were going to ask (again) "So what do you want to do after you graduate?"
my answer is still a vague but promising "Something awesome." Right now I have more important things to figure out. Things like how to work the D.C. metro and where to buy food.

Never having been a pregnant teenager myself, I actually have no experience with adoption. So how FORTUNATE that right before the semester ended I got to help a real-life orphan stay out of the system.

My friends found him underneath a car in the parking lot- named him Dobby and took him in- even though it was finals week and they really didn't have time to deal with a rabbit pooping all over their house. What good souls. Naturally, as soon as fb informed me of this I was at their front door with some carrots.

We tried to take Dobby for a walk (hop?)... the leash was made for a small cat but could also accommodate a rather large bunny. Turns out the reason Dobby is so large may be because he doesn't really like to jump around in the grass but likes very much to sit there and eat it.

Let's be honest: I am not an animal person. But that thing was like a stuffed rabbit, I tell you. It would just lie there in your arms and calmly wiggle its nose.
I was smitten.

Natter the Elementary Education Major.
"Just attach this photo to your resume and anyone will hire you."

Using my "social networking skills" that I bragged about in my application I started a marketing campaign (ie. status update) to save dear Dobby from the animal shelter.
As it happens, another girl I don't know adopted him first. But FOR THE RECORD, I did have a legitimate bunny-lover contact me after the fact.

What this experience has taught me is that successful adoptions can take place as long as you have
a) friends who are looking to 'add one more' to the family, or

b) friends who just can't say no to faces like this.

Congratulations on your new home, Dobby!!