Jenni Berrett

More than any other unsolicited mental health advice I’ve received over the course of my life is the admonishment to “fake it till you make it.”

The premise is pretty simple: We each give you one thing to watch, one thing to listen to, and one thing to read over the weekend.

Marina, if you're reading this, please be our BFF.

Culturally speaking, though, it’s pretty much set in stone. Even if I left the church entirely, there’s no getting out of my heritage. Cut me open; I’ll bleed funeral potatoes. I’m what you call a “legacy Mormon” — my ancestors migrated across the frontier and settled in Utah (then Mexico) after facing unspeakable persecution from countless communities in the United States. You probably know my ancestors best as the people with the wives.

"...Mental illness isn’t that exclusive. It doesn’t care how your day is going."

I don’t think the bar is low enough. We obviously need a way to work up to the Bechdel Test. Baby steps. And we all know women love babies.

“Girls don’t masturbate, right? I don’t masturbate. Do you masturbate? Can girls masturbate? I don’t think they can — I’m pretty sure my mom doesn’t.”

There is a lot on the Internet to read about the tragic Charleston shooting that took place late Wednesday night. Here are a few noteworthy tweets to get started with.

My dad died. I only know my own grief, and even that is debatable. If you’re hoping to comfort someone who’s grieving, here are a couple of things to know.

If you find yourself feeling hurt, mad, sad, etc. about the election this year, go ahead and feel it. Cry in front of your dad. Eat some queso. When it’s all said and done, feel how you need to feel. The only way to foster a healthy relationship between emotion and politics is to acknowledge that there is one in the first place, and that it probably needs fixing.