An Open Letter to College Students and Professors

I believe going to college is a privilege.

Congrats! You hauled ass in high school and/or junior college and you now get to further your education and your pay scale! Right?

Then how come I seem to spend a lot of my time wondering, “wtf are you doing here?” when I am in class lately? I get it, I went to my 8:00 AM com. 101 course in my pajamas. I spent psych. 101 scribbling notes to my friend Angela. I get it. But we are in Elementary Certification mode here, people! And some of us are here for GRADUATE school!

The University of Utah combines graduate courses with undergraduate courses in many departments. My extra 12 page term paper is the only difference between me and the 19 year old on FaceBook next to me. Maybe this is how it is everywhere but why am I paying nearly twice the amount for my course than she is?

Also, we aren’t in any 101 courses here, even at the undergraduate level, these are way beyond your gen ed. requirements. So, get off FaceBook, make yourself look presentable and perhaps you should rethink your aspirations for becoming a teacher.

And to (not all of) the professors: I made it to college. Please don’t read the syllabus out loud for two hours. Please expect that we were looking online and downloaded a copy for ourselves and looked over it. EXPECT more from us, please! As adults we should be expected to raise our hands, to not dominate class time with personal questions and anecdotes. In this program, we are taught that the more we expect out of the elementary school students we’ll be teaching, the more confident they will feel about their ability to learn. The same logic applies here.

Thank you.

This Post was Supposed to be Amazing

I recently read somewhere that Adele writes a lot of her material (and her best material) while drunk. I totally believe that.

Last night I went to the Bright Eyes concert and yes, I was drunk and thinking up the most amazing blog post in my head while I listened to the music, misty eyed.

This morning, I can’t remember a damn word.

So here’s what I think I meant to say, in less colorful, more sober words:

I am by no means a diehard Bright Eyes fan. But his album, I’m Wide Awake, Its Morning  really spoke to me. I was newly single, living a block away from the gorgeous Ocean Beach shore and rooming with one of my best friends. I’d started hitting the gym and eating better and feeling great. I’d run above the ocean on Sunset Cliffs Blvd and this album was a perfect 40 minute run. PERFECT.

The emotional rollercoaster of this album was just like my life and at track 7, the fast paced Another Travellin’ Song would have me sprinting the last leg back to my street where I’d join a handful of nameless neighbors and watch the sunset to Landlocked Blues.

In the middle of my run, where I’d turn around at the tide pools, I’d hear First Day of My Life  and I remember thinking it would be nice to find someone I felt this way about. And last night as we locked our bikes I heard him open his set with this very song. I announced to anyone who would listen that this was my favorite song because it reminds me of how I felt when I fell in love with Jim.

Then I promptly ran toward the stage nearly losing my husband in the crowd.

Here's a Reason NOT to Love SLC

It's rare, but there are indeed reasons that Salt Lake City isn't so awesome.

Here's one: The Altitude.

Every morning when I wake up late and have to skip getting my regular coffee from Brucey at The JitterBug, I am forced to drink Keurig coffee at work. And because Keurig doesn't mix in your cream and sugar for you like Brucey does, I have to pop open those little single serve creamers which promptly explode all over the place.

No matter how hard I try to turn the foil opener toward my cup of Keurig, and open it real, real slowly, some portion of the sticky creamer ends up on my hands, the counter, or my clothes.

Other aspects of The Altitude that suck are:

1. The inevitable huffing and puffing you exert after climbing ONE flight of stairs
2. The ear popping pressure when you ride the elevator to only the 10th floor
3. The low alcohol tolerance...wait...nevermind

Jimism: Twerk it girl!

Yesterday afternoon we had our neighbor’s kids over for some fun sprinkler dancing and english muffin pizza making. Sounds wholesome and adorable, right? The oldest girl, Bridget suggested we do our favorite dance move right over the sprinkler! She says, “I am going to do ballet!” as she does a beautiful pirouette right over the top of the sprinkler. I say, “I’m going to…” and try very hard to remember the words, “river dance” and am having a brain fart.

No worries, Jim answers for me, “Twerk it!”.

It’s a good thing both girls were no longer paying attention to this game.  

Reason To Love SLC #4

TACO CARTS!

When I moved here from San Diego the first question I was asking most people I met was, “Where can I get some good Mexican?” I got answers all over the map. From the Chevy’s-esque Blue Iguana to the mole-tastic Red Iguana, I still wasn’t getting what I craved: an authentic, hole in the wall, run by Mexican people, no English speaking, taco joint. I love mango-jalapeno mole like the next guy but give me some carne asada, bitches!

Then, I was told to hit up the taco cart outside of Sears. Not the one on State, I would be warned, the one right in front, on 800 South.

Delectable. Amazing carne asada, carnitas, pollo, and a sweet, chilled selection of homemade salsas and guac. YUM.

“I would never eat anything from a cart” many of my new SLC friends have said to me since that glorious day I tried the Sears-not-the-one-on-State-street taco cart. But where I come from, this style grub is where it’s at. San Diego didn’t have too many actual carts around (although Tijuana did but that is a whole other, yummy story) but they had a gazillion taco shops (all ending in O’S, Alberto’s, Ricardo’s etc.) that served up authentic, non-fancy Mexican fare the same way these guys do at the Sears-not-the-one-on-State-street taco cart.

Three years later, I feel like I see a new taco cart pop up every few weeks. I’ve tried many and most are very tasty (Tacos De Don Martin is my current favorite…and within walking distance of my house!). I’ve never gotten sick, don’t think I have a parasite, and am able to get a taste of back home any day of the week.

Reason To Love SLC #3

Every Thursday in July and August, the City of Salt gifts it’s residents with free outdoor concerts. The bands you hear at these concerts aren’t the local high school’s marching band or your neighbor’s kid’s garage jam band. SLC rolls out the red carpet for the likes of Modest Mouse, Big Boi, Sharon Jones and The Dap-Kings, The Decemberists, Lupe Fiasco, Sonic Youth, The Black Keys, and the list goes on and on and on.

The last two years they’ve moved venues and the current venue holds waaaaay too many people. So, I used to go early, scope out a good spot and hold down the fort until friends arrived. But now, there’s no chance I’m getting anywhere near that stage so I stand back, enjoy the warm Utah summer night listening to fabulous live music and PEOPLE WATCH.

Oh man, if your single and live in Salt Lake City, this is the place to be on Thursday nights. Tiny shorts, hiiiigh heels, men in jeans sized 0. There’s truly something for everyone here. I also see lots of families, tweens and older folks too. Last night’s Edward Sharpe And The Magnetic Zeros had epic people watching. My friend Tessa recently taught me about “photo bombing” and so I was able to snap a few of the worst offenders.

There were some seriously high heels going on last night. The best part was watching these girls try to walk...in a park made mostly of grass.

Make way for REBIRTH!

Last night I went to see New Orleans’ most famous brass band, Rebirth. They’ve been around for 28 years and their sound is classic NOLA brass jazz. Amazing.

The crowd was small, I was shocked. I saw them 3 years ago in the French Quarter and the place was jammed. Oh well, it just made for better pictures…

New Orleans is such a special city to me and listening to Rebirth just makes me so incredibly happy. I haven’t been this star struck in a long while…I hope they could see my mile wide grin from the stage.

Yes, that man is holding on to his cheek. He has to, it's been blown out from his awesome horn playing...which he can do one handed!

CrossBARFit

So after I took a month off (and still paid for) my Crossfit class, I went back for the first time last night. And nearly vomited. Like salivating, clutching my stomach, contemplating laying on a stranger’s lawn alongside SLC’s busiest street, vomited.

I walk in and my coach Taylor  (who is quite possibly going to take first place at next week’s national Crossfit Games) says, “DAWN! Where ya been?” I rub my protruding belly and say, “eating everything in sight.” She looks at my belly and hesitates just long enough for me to tell she is wondering if that means I’m pregnant (hey, I’ve been married two months and it’s Utah), she says, “cut it out, welcome back!” She thinks I didn’t see the hesitation.

Here’s our workout last night:

5 rounds for time –

400 meter run

20 box jumps (20 inches high)

20 wall ball squats (10 pound ball)

Sounds doable, right? OK, it’s also 95 degrees outside and there is NO AC IN THE GYM! Taylor even said to me right before the clock went, “Dawn, if you make it three rounds you can quit, it’s bad out there”. And I did, I made it three rounds and then sat in front of the fan and shook my head for the following ten minutes as teammates came over to me asking if I was ok. I must have looked like shit.

Back in the saddle tonight!

It’s wedding season, y’all!

I haven’t posted in a while because of two reasons:

1. I’ve been battling the most evil allergies on the planet. Eye infections, snot, coughing, no sleeping and pressure in my freaking face.

2. I’ve been too busy attending weddings and getting intoxicated. Sue me.

First up, Melanie and “Coach” David.

Melanie and I have been friends since we were 5. We played house when we were kids and always had twin brothers as husbands (Luke Perry and Jason Priestly are twins, BTW) and always had a double wedding. SO, it seemed fitting that in real life we got engaged within a month of one another and also got married within a month of one another. Too bad Jim and Coach aren’t twins…

Anyway, it was a beautiful wedding in wine country Sebastopol and as usual, pictures speak louder than words. Also per usual, there are like zero pics from the reception cause I was having too much fun getting gooned up with my folks J



What this photo isn't showing you is the MILES of vinyards just beyond the property line

Melanie was absolutely stunning

And Coach was absolutely smitten

Jumping the broom!

Me and my HUSBAND and my dad and my Andie

Lula “the cutest” Tabery

After nearly two years of Jim convincing me that a puppy is what Molly needs, I gave in. Here she is in all her glory. Pretty stinking adorable, huh?