PlesTokTooBridget

I think that my 5 year old neighbor is going to end up ruling the world.  What I mean is: she is either going to become the doctor that cures cancer or, she is going to be a mad scientist and have us all under her (adorable) thumb.

Last night Jim and I went next door to give Bridget and her little sister Sam their Christmas gifts.  We got them matching, handmade knit caps with adorable flowers on the front (a la Blossom!).  They fit perfectly and how the two only children in the world who actually like to wear hats are sisters is beyond me.  They loved them!

Anyway, their dad is a stay at home dad (and should win parent of the year as well as publish a best selling parenting book...yes, he is that awesome) likes to engage in adult conversation when we come over.  Not the type of adult conversation that requires ear-muffs, but the kind of conversation where after being with children all day long you can talk with a normal pitch voice and use multi-syllabic words.  Bridget has been taught fabulous manners (by her fabulous parents) and knows to wait her turn to talk.  Well, she decided that she had enough of the adult banter that she couldn't participate in and hands me her giant etch a sketch that read:

"Ples Tok Too Bridget"

And had a picture of a big pacman looking character and a small pacman looking character chatting away.

That was it, adult conversation over. We were putty in her hands; even dad.  

An Atheist, a Mormon and a Gay Guy walk into a bar…

A few nights ago we attended a girlfriend’s 30th birthday celebration.  Not a big party or anything.  There were less than ten of us sitting around drinking beers and eating brownies and other goodies at a friend’s house. 

Two guys come in who are friends of the birthday girl by way of childhood friendship with her (atheist) beau.  One of the men I think I’ve met before but not sure where, and the other I *think* might be gay…but my self-proclaimed California Gay-Dar isn’t as good as I might tell others it is.  As introductions are made, the birthday girl mentions that the familiar looking guy is mormon.  “Oh, I remember you now.” Um, open mouth, insert foot.  “Uh, not that being mormon defines you, I just remember you didn’t drink.” Seriously?  What the hell is my problem? 

Not a problem at all.  The 10 of us spent the evening drinking beers (or soda), and cracking up like we were all old friends. (Sidenote: don’t you just love when the celebration of an awesome person brings nothing but awesome people? Like, it just confirms that our birthday girl friend is so amazing that all of these really cool people come out for her). Anyway, the conversation includes tales from when the atheist and the mormon were on their mission together, cracks at the birthday girl who is starting to get tipsy, and various NSFW comments and laughter.

Then we head to the bar.  The same thing occurs there: more beer (and some water) drinking, more hilarious conversation and more friendships forming.  The (gorgeous) might-be-gay man sits next to me and says, “so tell me about you!”  We immediately dive into deep conversation.  At one point he tells me that he went on his mission to try and “pray away the gay” to which I can barely contain my excitement and laughter (since you know how I feel about that).  Here I am, chatting with my new favorite person in SLC,  and our new mormon friend is making cracks about how the fact that our party is so large we need two separate tables and so he must find the more interesting conversation before he sits down.  “I’m getting a Coke, anyone want a beer?” he says.

This is how life should be.  Three childhood friends, three very different walks of life and one great evening.      

Jimism: I own my own house!

When I make my lunch in the morning, I used make a sandwich for Jim (that is until he decided he was A- a full blown vegetarian now and B- sick of cheese sandwiches).  One morning I asked him if he could remember to bring the baggy home cause Ziplocs are expensive and it is a waste to use one a day (oh and something about the environment). He looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Dawn, that’s what the poor kids did when I was growing up, I own my own house.”

A few weeks later I am getting ready for bed. I turn on the bedside table lamps for me and for Jim, snuggle in, and open my book.  Jim usually just locks all the doors and turns off the lights and is otherwise right behind me. When nearly 15 minutes pass by and he isn't in the room, I decide to see what is taking him so long.

I get up and go into the hallway. No lights are on. Jim does not appear to be in the house.  I look in the backyard. No Jim. No lights. (Sidenote: at this point in our relationship I had been in Utah less than a year, we just bought our home together, and I was still a little shaky as to what this all meant for our future). So, naturally I think to myself : what kind of creepy thing is this man doing? Maybe I should go back to sunny California (I know, totally rational).

Finally, I see what looks like the outline of Jim standing in our front yard (SLC has crappy street lighting), and so I open the door.  Jim turns around with a freaking Bud Light in his hand and walks up to the porch.  I am staring at him, my mouth wide open.  It is nearly eleven on a school night and here he is outside with a beer in his hand.  He looks at me and says, "what?" So, irrational Dawn steps in and says to rational Dawn: you've clearly driven him to drink in the front yard at eleven o'clock at night. What does this mean?  In 50 years will he be in his Man Shed cursing his nagging wife while the nagging wife sits on the couch watching Judge Judy?  GO BACK TO CALIFORNIA!

I follow him inside. "What do you mean, 'what'? Your standing in our front yard drinking a beer when you just told me you'd be right in to bed!" He says, "so what, it's my house." I follow him into the bedroom where he gets ready for bed. "What the HELL were you doing out there?" Finally, finally! He tells me: there were kids across the street who kept running into the shadows whenever a car came down the road.  So, since Jim owns his own house, he thought he'd crack a beer, pound on his chest and tell those goddamned kids to knock it off!

I love to tell friends this story and watch Jim take ownership.  He still says, "so what, it's my house!". Every time.

Reason to love SLC # 2

We have one of those famous Virgin Mary aberrations!

The story goes that in 1997 a city worker found an image of the Virgin in a tree stump that had been struck by lightning. As word spread, a stair case and makeshift memorial site was erected to accommodate the rush of worshippers coming to visit the site.

Even now, over ten years (and a substantial amount of vandalism) later, the site is always adorned with flowers, candles, prayers and usually a kneeler or two.  Read about it by clicking on the link below (also where the images are from)

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/310083/a_new_vision_the_amazing_transformation.html?cat=38

Here is an article in the SLC Tribune written in 2010

I don't consider myself religious, but there is something very cool about the devotion to this Virgin Stump that draws my attention to it.  I drive passed the tree every morning on the way to work, and even in the snow, wind and rain, there are candles lit and flowers strewn by some seriously devoted worshippers. Like, they must have been out there at 7 AM devoted. 

My friend Emily sent me this Etsy link today (image pasted below) and I just had to share.  I've found myself openning the email with the image in it several times today; each time a big smile crosses my face.  This is so true, and I am so happy to say that I have more than one friend who will go bat swingin' with me when I am in need!

Are you going to the reunion?

When I told people over the last few weeks that I was headed to my ten year high school reunion Thanksgiving weekend, I got mostly negative reactions:

“Ugh, I do NOT want to see any of the people I went to high school with”

“Why? We have FaceBook now”

“Let me make this easier for you: everyone is still the same in ten years. Wait for your twenty”

But, I was voted, “Typical Senior” and was the flipping cheer captain, Hell yes I was going! I bought a new outfit, straightened my hair, polished the bling on my left hand and made sure my awesome husband-to-be was in tow. SO glad I did!

Everyone did look the same! And everyone was doing what FaceBook said they were doing. But you know what was different? Everyone was so nice and laid back! We all appeared to be genuinely happy to see each other (sidenote: everyone was slightly smashed so said happiness might have been alcohol induced).

When you think back on it, high school mostly sucked. It took place during your “awkward years” when you were pimple faced, mismatched, and rarely comfortable. It was also where you were told you needed to decide what you wanted to be when you grow up, to not mess it up and to be serious about your future (an impossible task when there are larger issues on your mind like why Johnny in first period looked at you all weird this morning). It was also full of superficial attitudes and bullies. Oh man. I bet my middle school still has “Dawn Marie’s a ho” written on the electric box out front.

But sometimes, it didn’t suck. Sometimes you had the BEST NIGHT EVER slow dancing with your crush at homecoming. Or sometimes you stuck your beam routine or got your driver’s license or didn't completely fail algebra. Sometimes you made lasting friendships and let go of bad ones. And that was what everyone seemed to remember that Friday night. 

Those sucky times? How much do they not matter now?  My high school has an AMAZING tradition of having each senior class make a time capsule full of personal things that we get to open at our ten year reunion. In mine were photos of mostly the same girls I am close with now, a book of funny memories, and a letter to myself. In that letter I tell myself that I hope I am where I want to be in ten years: happy, in love, a size 4 (HAHAHAHAHA!) and satisfied. How cool was my 18 year old self to say all of those lovely things? But also, how bratty was my 18 year old self to think I’d actually be the same size? But in addition, there was a brief timeline of my high school social career: boyfriends, heart breaks, drama, etc. Not one of those things has detracted from who I am today and where I am in life. Funny. In reading all of my girlfriends’ letters they also went on and on about things that they can barely remember now. My girl Stacey had this big photo of her and her high school boyfriend and some mementos from their relationship in her capsule. We all had a good laugh because there he was with his beautiful wife and there she was 7 months pregnant with her awesome husband. Crazy, huh? I’m not saying that our high school lives didn’t matter; they did and what we discovered about ourselves is important to who we are today and who we’ll be tomorrow. But, all the negative things others seemed to think would be unearthed by going to a ten year reunion? Just a drop in the bucket of memories.

Thanks SMHS Class of 2000, I had such an amazing time and am (sober and still) genuinely happy I got to see you all.    

I guess I just knew…

My very good friend Megan (like we’ve been friends since we were 5 ‘good friend’) sent me the below email chain she dug up. It takes place right before/after I went to visit Jim in SLC for the very first time…I know, our second “date” was actually a weekend rendezvous but whatever…

---

From: Dawn.
Sent: Friday, November 02, 2007 3:16 PM
To: Megan
Subject:

I just ate a jelly belly that tasted like an armpit.

It was green, so I thought it would be lime, maybe sour apple.

But it was armpit.

---

From: Megan
Sent: Friday, November 02, 2007 3:18 PM
To: Dawn.
Subject: RE:

Haha! Maybe it was one of those Harry Potter jelly beans…you know the ones with booger and vomit flavor…and now presenting….Armpit! I can’t wait to be done today!

---

From: Dawn.
Sent: Friday, November 02, 2007 3:32 PM
To: Megan
Subject: RE:

ME TOO

An hour and a half to go...ugh.

So, as if San Diego burning down wasn't enough, there is now a bomb threat on the 5 in between the 52 and the 805 split. Apparently somebody threw pipe bombs out their window while driving passed. The guy is in custody...but the freeway is shut down and there are bombs out there! If this delays my flight, I am going to be HEATED.

From: Megan
Sent: Friday, November 02, 2007 4:56 PM
To: Dawn.
Subject: RE:

Have so much fun this weekend! I expect a call from the airport on Sunday telling me all the fabulous details!

---

From: Megan
Sent: Monday, November 05, 2007 9:08 AM
To: Dawn.
Subject: RE:

Hmmm…..

---

From: Dawn.
Sent: Monday, November 05, 2007 9:16 AM
To: Megan
Subject: RE:

Hi!

How was your weekend? Mine was amazing...I can't get over it. I am definitely marrying this man...assuming he feels the same way:)

---

From: Megan
Sent: Monday, November 05, 2007 9:18 AM
To: Dawn.
Subject: RE:

Yeeeaaahhhh….uhh that was not the explanation I was prompting.

---

From: Dawn.
Sent: Monday, November 05, 2007 9:56 AM
To: Megan
Subject: RE:

Hehe:)

It was awesome. I got in around 10 on Friday night...he was there waiting for me...big hug and kiss, very cheesy and romantic. On Saturday we went and got coffee and then breakfast before going on this fabulous hike. It took five hours round trip...a 2.5 mile steady incline to three awesome lakes and a waterfall. It was really cold and there was snow on the ground when we go to the top. Yesterday we went to breakfast and then to this park that reminded me of that park in Amsterdam with the lake in the middle...except it was much smaller. We just sat and peopled watched for a while before going back to his house and getting ready to leave. Leaving was ok given that I am going to see him again on Friday, but when he leaves on Monday, it will be the last time I see him for over a month!

I really like this guy, and I really hope he feels the same way...we just get along so well. We like the same music, we are both sarcastic, we made fun of each other all weekend and he is kind of metro ...you know, actually had input when I was talking about my dramatic friends.

Megan then asked for a picture of my ‘future husband’, and this is the one I attached…it is from our treacherous hike.