Paper and Ink

Two Love Birds

2011-09-12T14:28:00.000-07:00

These two love birds are getting married in two weeks! We love them both and could not be more excited.

BTW, their wedding is going to be gorgeous. Shannon has impeccable taste, and has put a personal touch in everything from the gourmet catered food to the DIY decorations (which her family, friends and fiance have been able to help make, giving us a special memory in the pre-wedding process). Besides the venue, the bride is going to look stunning. Can't wait to take and post pictures.

Thanks for sticking with my blog readers! Some have you have asked why the infrequent posts? Two words: grad school. I've also taken down multiple posts from the past because it seemed prudent not to broadcast all of my thoughts from religion to politics. For those of you who left thoughtful comments to those removed posts, I saved them in my personal files! I value your insights, and that you took the time to share.

Hope everyone is excited for the holiday season. Get ready for the smell of burning leaves, pumpkin spice, and the twinkle of Christmas lights.

The Challenge of Being Ourselves

2011-08-23T16:26:00.000-07:00

Too often we still live with the pinched expectations of a culture of conformity, which sees daring as dangerous. Go along to get along: that's its mantra. Only a principle refusal to be terrorized by these stingy standards will save you from a Frankenstein life made up of other people's expectations grafted together into a poor imitation of existence. You can't afford to do that.... Homophobia, racism, religious bigotry: they are all bricks in a wall that divides us, bricks cast of the clay of fear, fear of that which is different or unknown.

- excerpt by Anna Quindlen in Katie Couric's book "The Best Advice I Ever Got"

Dan's Surprise party

2011-04-07T11:51:00.001-07:00

(Find the directions for these guys at thecraftingchicks.com/2011/03/angry-birds-cupcakes.html)

Dan's closest friends gathered at Laser Assault to surprise him for his 30th birthday.

Though I had planned this party a month in advance and had done my best to ensure that I was in control of the success of the day, life decided to screw with me by reminding me that the illusion of control is life's way of regularly telling you to suck it! Whatever life! “If everything seems under control, you're just not going fast enough.” -Mario Andretti. Two can play at this game! (Warning: unbridled zeal is never a good thing).

I drove a blindfolded Dan to the Laser Tag venue. His stomach was empty. Being the strategic planner that I am I had starved Dan to the point of fainting so that he'd appreciate the food he'd find at the party, kinda like, "Hey, remember how your vision got blurry and you could barely stand cuz you were so hungry? I provide FOOD! Go get it birthday boy!" To which I envisioned tears welling up in his eyes while he glanced at me with gratitude and pride before diving headfirst into a large-pizza box. However, my fantasy turned nightmare when the combination of an empty stomach and wearing a blindfold caused severe motion sickness (side effect of ZEAL).

"Just 10 more minutes of driving," I'd reassure him.

But 10 turned into 30 as bumper-to-bumper traffic caused a third of our friends to arrive late to the party, and I had to stall by driving around in circles. CIRCLES! Of all the shapes to choose to drive a motion-sick passenger around in. I was a bit panicked.

I was nervously eying spots alongside the road that looked good for an "I'm gonna puke" moment, but luckily there was no need.

This is going to be great! I'm gonna win! Life, you ain't got nothin' on this!, these and similar phrases ran repeatedly through my mind throughout the day as I envisioned an imaginary war between me and life's unpredictability. Dan may or may not have commented on "Why the maniacal look in your eyes?" but then wisely turned away from my wide-eyed gaze and white-man's under bite expression, pretending the question had never been posed.

Eventually, I parked the car and proceeded to retrieve the cupcakes I had hidden in the trunk. I knew upon placing the food in there three hours previously that trunks were not designed to preserve food. But my optimism took over and I irrationally convinced myself it would work out. But upon opening the trunk I saw that the carefully crafted angry-bird-themed cupcakes resembled the Wicked Witch of the West after she melted, and maybe bile. I grabbed the bag of food, dragged my green husband out of the car, guided him into the venue (bumping him on a door frame or two), and yanked his blindfold off, nearly ripping his head off his neck in the process cuz, well, I was excited!

There are times when you realize a month's worth of effort is all going to pot in a matter of 30 seconds. Life 19 : Stephanie 4. That's when we say, "I'm just gonna roll with it" and pop an oozy green angry-bird pig cupcake into your mouth to muffle the screams.

The evening from that point on proceeded without a hitch. We played a couple rounds of laser tag, watched Dan demolish his playable angry bird cake (similar, though much less elaborate, as the one pictured below), and spent the rest of the night eating, chatting, and watching season 2 of Modern Family with Ben and Rosa.

Originally I had anticipated having the day of Dan's party to myself to prepare for things while Dan was at work. Then he says, "Honey, I think I'm gonna take all of my birthday off and spend the entire day with you."
"Grreeeaaat!" I said a little too high and tried to make my smile look genuine.

The day of was fraught with lying to Dan left and right...
"Hey, why don't you take Coda to the park while I get ready for the day... she's so ancy" so that I could load his trunk with party goodies.

"I think I'll leave the fancy camera in the car under the seat while we go into the arcade"
"Why don't you just put it in the trunk Steph?"
"Oh, you know what? I think I'll just take it in. Maybe I'll get a good picture."

"Honey, why don't you go to the gym? I won't be getting out of bed for another hour or two." Cue sound of door shutting as Dan leaves so I can hop out of bed and finish decorating 24 cupcakes.

"Steph, did you make reservations for Tucano's tonight?"
"What? Oh! Oh yeah, mmm-hmmm, sure did. Except they don't take reservations, so we'll just have to get there before the rush." (They do take reservations)
"Well, did we get that birthday coupon in the mail from them yet so we can get a free meal tonight?"
Knowing I could not produce the coupon that had not yet arrived, but still needing to convince him that Tucano's was the agenda of the night, I said, "Nope, but they told me you can just show them the birth date on your ID." They said no such thing because I never spoke with them.

I even let Dan drive us 30 minutes to Tucano's, hungry for plates upon plates of meats, and then right before parking told him to swap seats with me and put on a blindfold. He looked like he might cry.

But alas, he WAS surprised, so all of the lying and evasiveness? Totally worth it.

Thanks everyone who helped make this day special for sweet Daniel!

Natalie and Jim are getting married...

2011-04-06T10:00:00.001-07:00

in just 2.5 more weeks! We're very happy they found each other.

Here's Natalie at one of her Bridal Showers, looking lovely as ever.

Happy 30th Birthday Dan!

2011-04-01T10:14:00.000-07:00

This is a digital version of the wallet-sized flipbook I made for Dan.

From your family to you on your birthday – your life is a gift we’ve experienced everyday these past 30 years. We love you. Happy Birthday!

Enjoy!
_______________________________________________________________________________________

D is for the dorky things you used to do to drive me nuts—“Alrighty then!”
A is for the adventures you had in skateboarding, river rafting (Phiney Creek and the white waters near Sacramento), business retreat activities, and hiking, many of which I knew about (and cringed) and some I only learned about through your English class papers in college.
N is for your native ability to sing and to play the piano beautifully.
I is for your interesting sense of humor, evidenced by the Mother’s Day card I once received that stated: “I love you like a mother!”
E is for the excellence with which you served your mission in Montreal.
L is for the special love a mother has for her last child.

N is for Noire, your beloved dog you raised from a pup, who never realized that walks were for walking, not pulling people on roller blades, as you taught her! How the rest of us suffered as she tried to pull our arms off when we took her for a “walk.”
E is for the effort you put into achieving your sales goals and other milestones you set in life.
I is for (what else?): I-L-L-I-N-I country in Illinois where you grew up.
L is for likeable—you have always had many friends who have appreciated you for the good person that you are.
L is for your contagious and often unpredictable laugh and for your general love for life.

D is for your devotion to the Gospel and dedication to your personal beliefs.
U is for your unbelievable charm which you have figured out how to turn on when it suits you best. Work it!
N is for the nocturnal facial expressions that provide amusement for your wife and dog!
N is for your natural ability to find fun wherever you can and to enjoy life to the fullest!

I love all that you are and all you will someday be! Happy, happy 30th birthday, my dear son!

Love, Mom

_______________________________________________________________________________________
Roller

There he was.

Curling through the streets.

Yet unknown from where he came and where he goes,

He glides –

Not bothered by the pitted peril, looming with every step,

His eye sees an open road,

A path unblemished by mere imperfection, and unobstructed by fear.

For his safety is not founded in his padding or in ignorance.

And his joy not born in rebellion or spite.

His virtue lifts his knees and springs his feet, propelling his pursuit of right.

And he goes on.

Love,
Joe

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Dan’s the one who always knows
In the winter when it snows
That his car and Stephanie’s, too
In spite of forecasts will get through.

Dan’s the one who taught me value
Got me hooked on American Idol
Now I watch it all the time
When I should be making a dime.

Dan’s the one I tell “Drive slow!”
But as far as son-in-laws go,
He’s the one who takes the toast
And next to my daughter, I love the most!

Coda runs a very close third!

Love,
Itty

_______________________________________________________________________________________

From diapers to doorbells, it’s been fun to see Dan grow up into such a great man. He’s gone from a Garfield-reading, Gameboy-playing, Newspaper-delivering, Musical-practicing BOY, to an Alarm-selling, Adventure-seeking, Cruise-taking, Husband-caring MAN. I admire Dan’s musical abilities, dedication to his career responsibilities, devotion to his wife, love of life, charm, and personable and likeable disposition. In a nutshell: Je ne pouvais pas demander un meilleur petit frere! =)

Love,
Liz

_______________________________________________________________________________________
By 30 years old did you know you would be
An uncle to 6 nieces, 3 nephews
A homeowner on ******* View
Dad to a mutt breed

Did you know you would be
A mother’s joy
A mother in law’s favorite boy
A wife’s priority

Did you know you’d be
The aim of your brother’s respect
Loved by a dear sister in every aspect
The best worker in a company

Did you know you’d be
Whole where once broken
The subject of loving prayers spoken
That you’d mean so much to me?

At 23 you made me laugh, cry, and believe
At 24 you said “I do”
At 25 we bought our first home
At 26 things in life kinda fell through
At 27 our love story really began
At 28 we were well on our way
By 29 you’d become a strong man
Now at 30, I am every day amazed

Dan you are
Coda’s best friend
Your sibling’s blood
Your Mother-in-laws’ blessing
Your Mother’s heart
And my everything

Love,
Steph

2010: A Year in Review in our little, sometimes slanted world

2011-02-25T16:32:00.000-08:00

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant -
Success in Cirrcuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind -

Poem by Emily Dickinson

2010: A Year in Review
Accomplishments:
-Dan grew hair long and adopted the nickname “Ringo Star”
-Steph grew hair long, got a tan, and adopted the name “Snooki”
-Coda found a new way to ride in style

-Dan was recognized as the #1 sales rep in Titan Alarm
-Stephanie’s blog, www.danandstephaniedunn.blogspot.com reached 30,000 readers per month (that’s not a plug or anything)
-Stephanie lied about submitting a shameless plug into Newsletter
-Dan and Stephanie celebrated 5-year wedding anniversary
-Coda learned to jump on a trampoline
-With help of generous and talented friends (mostly Josh, pictured below, and Justin and Jimmy), we finished our basement apartment in our home and moved in while keeping our fabulous tenants in the main portion of the home.
-Dan attended an esteemed Taxi songwriter’s workshop with BFF Josh in LA
-Stephanie got accepted into her number one pick for Grad School, Seton Hill University, to study “Writing Popular Fiction”
-While living in a motel we successfully avoided confrontations with Man With an 8-inch Knife and Steroid-Popping Weightlifter who worked out at 11PM, 2AM, & 5AM while sharing a wall with us and dropping his weights loudly after every set
-Stephanie shot at least 3 new candids of Dan sleeping with his eyes open

Good Times:
-Spent a few days in beautiful Yosemite

-Got to visit parents, grandparents, siblings, nieces and nephews, aunts, uncles, and cousins in CA, VA, IN, and UT

-Went to DC for a day

-Saw Michael Buble in concert

-Went to see “The Lion King” on Broadway

-Dear friends Kaitlyn McGuire became Mrs. Todd Whitcomb, and Rosa Parma became Mrs. Ben Gardner

-BFF Shannon McGuire became engaged to Ty Bailey and BFF Natalie Hess became engaged to Jim Cannon

- The Twilight movie “Eclipse” came out. Period.
-Titan Alarm generously took us on a cruise to the Mexican Riviera where we ate 2 flans a day, gained 2 lbs a day, and swam with dolphins
-Participated in Disneyland’s “VoluntEar” program where 1 million people who did service for their community received free Disneyland passes for a day. Our service was singing for an old folks community home. Stephanie may or may not having noticed certain folks turning down their hearing aids while she sang “Poor Wandering One”.

-Went to Boston to visit Shannon and Ty, and got to see Steph’s Grandfather Duke’s only-living sibling, Uncle Jimmy.

We made some new friends, and were able to be with old friends too.
"We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere." -Anonymous
Thanks for sharing in our lives and letting us share in yours.

Happy 2011!

"These Fish Have Manners!" -Jerry McGuire

2011-02-11T08:53:00.000-08:00

When visiting Dan's brother and his family in San Diego recently we enjoyed a day at the San Diego Zoo with our two nieces, Ella and Nora.

Ella is confident and gregarious, often stopping other little girls to say, "Well aren't you a cute girl! How old are you? I'm five!" and peeking in baby stroller's to announce to the baby's parent, "Well isn't that a cute girl... or is it a boy?"

At one point Ella astutely pointed out that a man 20 feet in front of us was wearing the same jacket as Uncle Dan, to which Dan, always antagonizing our nieces and nephews, said, "Yes, but mine is much better."

Ella's brows furrowed and then she looked up at Uncle Dan to proclaim, "You should not brag. Bragging is not nice!"

Naturally I was tickled by Ella's statement, so I praised her.

Then she kept talking to me about the importance of good manners, eventually ending with the statement, "I have such good manners. I'm so glad I don't brag."

Classic.

Unrestful Vacation Days

2011-02-01T17:20:00.000-08:00

It’s the first full day of our cruise to the Mexican Riviera vacation. My husband left early to play basketball on the 11th deck. I slept in, content to soak up Zzzz’s instead of rays. By the time Dan returned from his morning activities I had just rolled out of bed and mustered up enough energy to strip naked and adorn a shower cap. Toothbrush in hand and sleep still in my eyes, I tried to wake up. I’m not much of a picnic the first few minutes after waking up. Just 2 days ago I was lying in bed, desperate to catch those precious 5 more minutes allotted generously by my Snooze button, but found it difficult. My dog, which shares the bed with us, kept scratching her fur like she was trying to keep double time beat with Dan’s loud whistling coming from other side of the house. I gave her a nudge with my leg and just knew those remaining 3 minutes of sleep were just what I needed. All of a sudden my alarm was sounding. I hit the Snooze, grateful that he is generous with those luscious increments of 5 minutes. But then I heard the alarm again, all too soon, except it was coming from the kitchen. It took about 3 notes of Dan whistling the melody of my alarm before, completely involuntarily, I was screaming with one huff from my diaphragm “SHUT UP!” Now, normally I do not speak to my spouse this way, and I swear my brain did not even process what I was yelling until the thing was already done. Normally I would feel bad, but I was too tired for that, and decided I would apologize later, like in 5 more minutes.

So here we are on our vacation, me just barely awake and Dan having been in full swing for a couple of hours. Let me just stop to point out the obvious – this is not a good energy dynamic. When Dan is in “exuberant” mode he is likely to sing random made up melodies loudly, say things like “We gotta get goin!!!” while shaking my sleeping body, and possibly do 50 pushups with Coda on his back while chanting a mantra like “Today is going to be grrreat!” Nothing could be more obnoxious to a person who is still half asleep and in that delirious stage where only instincts, raw emotion, and no patience or logic exist.

That’s how this morning was. Dan comes in, cheeks flushed with the youth and vigor of a 20 something year old who just played a rousing game of basketball with his friends, and I am standing there, posture slumped over because I don’t have the energy to do more than hold my toothbrush, toothpaste foam dripping out of my mouth and splattering onto my naked, vulnerable self. You can imagine that my instincts were telling me to throw him overboard. If it didn’t require so much energy I probably would have.

This is the state I am in when he starts to address a stressful topic. We start to have an intense conversation, so intense that we do not hear a word of the announcement that has just blared into our stateroom from the Captain. However, we do hear a series of whistle blows from the ship, followed by a long sounding blow.

Wait a minute. Dan and I look at each other and I imagine he is thinking the same thing I am; during our “In case of an emergency” orientation on the ship yesterday, didn’t they say that emergencies on board that required evacuating the ship in life boats would sound like that whistle we just heard?

Nahhh.

We continue our debate. Our debate is rudely interrupted as the Captain’s voice blares this message into our room:

“May I have your attention please. This is your Captain speaking. There is a fire onboard. We have collided with another vessel. Water has spilled into several of the ships chambers. The ship is filling up with water.”

We look at each other with wide eyes and say hopefully, “It’s probably just a drill.”

“This is not a drill” we hear the Captain say. He continues to say something about sealing off corridors, staterooms, etc…. but I cannot process anything he is saying. I am conscious that I am starting to panic. How could I not? The ship is sinking and I am naked and armed with nothing but a shower cap and a toothbrush. I irrationally contemplate if one can paddle with a toothbrush?...

I stop myself. Just think. As I direct myself to stay calm and think the first thought that enters my mind is “I wonder if I could take a shower, put on some makeup, and still make it off the sinking ship on time???”

Clearly I am still panicking. Irrational thoughts are not a sign that I am pulling it together. Plus I am tired. Oh yeah AND NAKED.

I start to throw on some underwear. Dan opens our door and asks passersby in the hallway what is going on. I am about to ditch putting on the rest of my clothes and head straight for the lifejacket when I hear a girl giggle and say that it was just a drill for the crew. No real disaster. THEN WHY DID THE CAPTAIN SAY THIS IS NOT A DRILL?!

I guess it would have helped had Dan and I heard the first announcement wherein the Captain explained the following announcement would be a drill.

When We First Met...

2010-12-01T13:44:00.000-08:00

When we first met
I had no idea you'd be so important to me.

If These Walls Could Talk

2010-11-15T16:19:00.000-08:00

If These Walls Could Talk... what would they say?

Dan and I have lived in numerous places since getting married. Every move brings with it the exciting sense of change, the strain of transition, the yearning for feeling settled, and the joy of feeling we're home.

Looking back at the places we've lived I've pondered the lessons learned, the tears shed, the leaps of faith made -- and the walls, the silent observers that have watched our triumphs and struggles.

Our first place brings a sense of nostalgia. It was a small, charming place. An old Victorian home broken up and reassembled into five awkwardly shaped apartments. Ours included the bay window at the front of the house, the built in bookshelves that must have belonged to the wall of the original living room, and the original creaky floorboards. We didn't own a vacuum yet, so cleaning the floors meant sweeping debris from on top of the floorboards in the grooves that separated them. Those walls saw our first feeble steps into the roles of marriage. We knew so little, were very scared, and this little space kept us together when I sometimes felt myself falling apart. I loved the winter light that streamed into our bedroom through the bay window. Loved the teeny hallway-of-a-kitchen with it's strange black and white large-checkered linoleum floor. Loved that the residential treatment center for troubled youth that I interned at was just a 5 minute drive down the street. Hated the shower that turned cold after 7 minutes! But it was ours, and we did the best we could there. I think those walls would say we were very new at the marriage thing, and we had a lot to learn. And they'd also thank us for painting them buttery-yellow and cerulean blue.

Our first place: the bedroom

Our experience in our next place was as bleak as the space we were living in: Puyallup, Washington. We packed light, taking with us only that which we could fit into our two cars. No decorations. No keepsakes. Just dull beige carpets, off-white walls. And sad to say, that empty hole of a space was much a reflection of my inner struggles. I couldn't put my finger on what was so off, I just knew I was very sad, and on edge. That place was quite dingy, fittingly so, because it embodied a very dark time in my mind and heart. In truth, unbeknown to Dan and myself, we were simply experiencing our lack of knowing how to be married, and how to be married well. We grew up with strong single mothers who did the best they could, yet still our broken childhoods left us at a loss as to how to create a whole home. Into marriage we brought with us the sharp edges of jagged fragments of broken homes, not meaning to hurt each other with them, but trying so hard to force the rough pieces to fit together that we couldn't avoid it.

If those walls could talk they would scream at us for getting the most darling puppy and using that box of an apartment as a basis for potty training. It would scream at me for screaming at it in times of confusion. I saw that place, and see it still, as an enemy. It held no warmth on account of that hard time in life. The austerity of the colorless walls never held us together as we worked through our trials -- they boxed us in.

Six months of living there and we were on to a refreshing change -- our newly built home in Utah. The smell of new paint. Every light bulb in working order. Shiny black granite countertops and picture windows in every room. Oatmeal-white carpet and warm rustic-looking hardwood floors. It was a welcome reminder that even when stuck in a bland existence for what seems an endless amount of time, there are always new beginnings. We lived in our beautiful home for 6 months. I worked part-time again at the residential treatment center as an artistic director, choreographing shows, coaching the kids of musical numbers, and performing alongside them when they asked. It was simple, fulfilling. Dan recruited for the following summer sales team. We didn't have the gumption or the funds to fully furnish the place, but less furniture meant we could fit more guests! We had a Noteworthy reunion for old and new members, housed family for the holidays, had a group of friends from CA over for a night of dinner and games, and had a number of visitors from other states for numerous occasions.

If these walls could talk they'd soothingly remind us it's okay to cry. They’d encourage our use of them as a place for gatherings. They would let us know we were moving in the right direction, with hard lessons ahead. But while there our house would be a respite in between storms.

Oh the next place. Murrieta, CA. A new apartment complex. Beautiful. Faux-wood floors, three bedrooms, 2 baths, never lived in. A grand pool. A gym 5 minutes away. My mom and fellow-Burbankians a couple of hours away. These walls were holding their breath for things to fall apart. Their perfect, seamless walls must have sensed the cracks in our marital exterior. Dan and I, still new to marriage and fighting to get our footing. Things were brewing beneath the surface, out of sight, where even we couldn't see them.

We had a decent month in Murrieta before told by the company we were there with that we had to move to Corona.

Off we went. The first sign of trouble was just that, a sign. A note on our apartment door, and everyone else's, stating that the serial rapist that had attacked several tenants was still at large. Dan and I were on the bottom floor. He was gone at work all day. I was home alone and in darkness because I kept all the blinds shut and tried to make it look like no one lived there, especially not a girl alone with a cat for a dog. That kind of tension will break open things that are hardly being held together as it is. The pressure and strain was too much. Dan and I had no choice but to break down our ragged puzzle we had forced together, look at each rough piece, see it for what it really was, and assess if we could, and if we were willing, to do the hard work required to re-shape each piece. I am not even embarrassed to write about how hard marriage was for us up until that point, because I am so deeply grateful for and proud of what followed. We were, in a sense, reborn. We learned what festering lies, false beliefs, ugly habits, hard-heartedness, and weaknesses we had involuntarily brought into our marriage, and we slowly broke the chains, one link at a time.

It was hard. It took nearly a year of working everyday. Every day. With the help of God, wise mentors, and sometimes professionals, the support and understanding of family and a few trusted friends, and complete honesty and vulnerability and risk required of ourselves. Those walls, should they speak, would say we shocked them -- we made some bold moves and they held their breath as they wondered if we would hold it together. The walls of Corona would never learn the answer, because it wouldn't come until 2 more moves, the final one landing us in Glendale, CA, in a beautiful apartment in a safe part of town, 10 minutes away from family and friends, from my hometown.

Glendale got to see the new pieces of the puzzle, carefully-crafted and gently laid down, not in a harried fashion, but with caution, tenderness, and prudence, one at a time, day after day, none before they were ready, until our first whole home was created. We had lived in numerous places, yet it took 2 years before we finally learned how to create a home. It had nothing to do with the paint, the decor, the roles we originally felt pressured into or misunderstood we were to play in order to be married. It had everything to do with honesty, humility, service, hard-work, risk, faith, assertiveness, learning, changing, and emotional health. In that place in Glendale began the greatest love story of my life.

Here's where it all finally came together...

Then we moved. Again. To Minnesota! More refinement. Every move seemed to be telling us something. Stripping us of our bearings as it stripped us of our weaknesses and pretenses. Confusion always brings change. In Minnesota I read "The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands" by Dr Laura. I realized, for the first time, how much even someone like myself, who desired above all things to be a good wife, had been subconsciously influenced by the ultra-feminist culture I grew up in in this country. I got better at marriage. Dan did too. We lived there for one month before learning that the business we were working for was a crock -- something they hadn't been honest about before confidently convincing us to uproot ourselves and work for them. We arrived in Minnesota the same way we arrived in Washington -- with only that which we could fit into our cars. No furniture. One dog. The company assured us they'd pay for rented furniture as we worked there temporarily. Promised they'd pay us out weekly. Promised operations were ready to support the sales we were going to make them. Promised us we were covered by new health insurance, so we cancelled our previous policy. All turned out to be a lie. We arrived at the apartments. No furniture. For a month! I have a bad hip and scoliosis, so sleeping on the floor was about as fun as getting killed by Dexter (new favorite show, btw). No table to eat on. No paycheck coming in (that was about as thrilling as seeing Santa come in from the chimney, walk over to your stocking, and puke in it. So wrong). Dan flew back to CA to make sales for another company just to make enough money for us to move back to the West Coast and get us through the month. But a blessing was to be had -- Dave Ramsey gave us a Total Money makeover! What a blessing. Dan and I had lived, comfortably we thought, with a hefty amount of debt throughout our marriage. He made such great money that we were never noticeably burdened by it. But when we lived in MN for a sham company that wasn't paying us, we realized how easily our debt was going to eat us alive. It was a scary time. A shameful time. Our eyes were opened to the grossness of buying on loan, of being imprudent and placing too much value of wants before earning them. We had a complete philosophy and lifestyle upheaval of our financial life, which taught us a lot about other things in life -- responsibility, stewardship, patience, security, spirituality. I remember being alone in that apartment, my husband on the other side of the country, not able to afford groceries and eating canned beans 3 meals a day for several days in a row. Never been so scared. Perfect time to learn something great :).

So we got it together. Those walls saw us pour over Dave Ramsey's advice, start to budget every penny, and cancel dozens of bills for "perks" we didn't need. It saw us say "screw off" to a dishonest business relationship, and pack up to leave.

We moved to a temporary place in Provo. The cheapest place we could find. Walls made out of cylinder blocks covered in plaster. A boys’ dorm when school was in session. Plaid couches. Those walls saw me set the kitchen on fire (not figuratively speaking!), move things from 2 storage units into it to sell, begin our on and off again relationship with P90X, discover Stevia, and again, continue to preserve, protect, and refine our love.

A couple of months later we were in a lovely basement apartment. Yes, full of hobo spiders, but also full of love. Within one year living there we paid off dozens of thousands of dollars of debt, got disability and life insurance, a Medical Savings Account (form of health insurance), made plans for an IRA that will leave us and our posterity with over 5 million dollars upon retirement, make plans for future investments, and overall take action to be responsible with our earnings. WHAT A BLESSING! I tell ya, when I think about repentance I don't think about saying I'm sorry so much as making a change. We made a lot of changes in the safety of that sweet little basement.

So now we are in our motel, waiting for our next place to finish being built. These walls saw us through our 5 year anniversary, where we celebrated with hearts full of gratitude that we stuck it out. That we held on with faith to the hope that we could make our marriage better. Looking into each other’s tear-filled eyes and smiling in wonder and joy that we didn’t give up on what has become the best thing we have ever known in life—our marriage. We’ve seen the insides of many places, and each has brought on challenges that seemed to bring out the needful thing in our lives. I think the walls of our next place, the one we plan on staying in for several years, will say that they held a couple that holds onto to each other, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, in good times and hard times, and is committed to and understands, has earned a glimpse into what it means, to be married and married well.

And I Thought I Was Eating Healthy Cuz I Buy Turkey Dogs...

2010-11-08T22:16:00.000-08:00

I got accepted into my number one pick for Grad School!!! I am so excited/nervous/ready to get started!

To counteract this fantastic news, and to keep the yin and yang of the universe in check, I received some craptastic news as well. I am allergic to just about any food you can think of. Me, Mrs. never had an allergy/let me hoard my supreme immune system over your pollen-sensitive sissy of a nose, your little "wait, I need my inhaler" whine, your "I'm sad my eyes water around pets because all I ever wanted to be since I was three years old was a veterinarian" crying. Okay okay, I'm not really that heartless. But I am gonna be one bitter woman cuz get this -- I can't eat anything with milk! Well, I can, but only if I want to experience extreme discomfort and an acne breakout. That means no cheese, no chocolate, no cookies, crackers, cereals, butter-saturated veggies, yogurt, and that my favorite drink in the entire world, milk, has become my personal sword in the stone, my forbidden apple. I want it!!!! I want mac and cheese and I want to eat cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, with a healthy dose of butterfingers to snack on in between.

The idea that God turns our weaknesses into strengths may be more literal than I thought, cuz it ain't like I cook much as it is. And from what I described above it's clear my eating habits are like I'm trying to place first in a race towards a heart attack. But with my lack of motivation to cook often, if I don't learn how to become the next Kobe Bryant of the Kitchen, I may just starve for lack of edible options. Definitely time to put this Achilles heel of a weakness in physical therapy.

My livelihood... the only reason my husband and I have not been eaten alive by our fast metabolisms, is because I can whip up a good package of Stouffers pre-made lasagna like a savant. Staples in our home are turkey hot dogs, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and anything with cheese -- cheese tortillas, tacos, burritos, etc. But you take those faux-cooked meals away from me and I'm gonna have to learn to cook for real. Not just cook -- create. Improvise. Finally learn what it is people do with an oven. My key lifeline in the kitchen -- simple recipes, will never be simple again. That word won't even be allowed in my Kitchenaid's presence.

Here's what I mean. Let's say I want something to eat that requires cheese. Grating a big yellow block is a thing of the past. Instead of just "add cheese" it's gonna be like "make cheese substitute by combining nutritional yeast, flour and vegetable broth powder in a small saucepan, mixing together until combined then add soymilk, water and tahini, and turn on heat to medium-low, mixing until all the powder is dissolved and the sauce is smooth then heat until just thickened and warm, about 2-3 minutes". I'm gonna have to cook an entire meal just to create an ingredient for an actual meal. This may prove more challenging than Grad School.

I'm sure this blessing in disguise will help my home be healthier. And although I do more cooking than I let on above, it IS going to be quite the challenge, hopefully one that I will grow to love. I can eat things I am allergic to here and there, and in small doses, and I may never actually become as extreme as learning how to use yeast to make a cheese substitute (or maybe I will), but one thing is for sure -- our eating lifestyle is in need of a major overhaul. One that forces me to look up "tahini" in the dictionary.

5 year Anniversary (i.e.- best day of my LIFE!)

2010-10-22T19:10:00.000-07:00

More to come on our 5 Year Anniversary Celebration. It was, very possibly, the best day of my life. Thank you for your generous love Dan.

Here's one of the things he did for me to celebrate our marriage...
He wrote and recorded the song just for the occasion.

Motels Are Swell

2010-09-29T15:03:00.000-07:00

It has been nearly 2 months since my last post. What have we been doing? Well, living in a motel, naturally! Actually, living in a motel is one of the most un-natural things to do, right long with beekeeping and drinking the water above the toilet in an emergency.

We have been living in a motel temporarily until our next place is finished being built. We were given some nudges to move by family and friends who suspected this particular motel might not be totally kosher, but it wasn't until the Police Forensics team showed up with an ambulance and a stretcher that we were like, "Oh, this is pig we're eating?" Prior to that nothing was obvious enough to warn us -- not the daily calls to the cops because people outside our door were screaming that they were gonna Eff each other up or kill someone, nor the smell of marijuana, nor the fact that I had seen a man arrested, and an 8 inch knife confiscated from his person. It took a confidential crime scene, one with a stretcher, before we got the hint. Hey, I don't live in denial, but sometimes I visit.

And that knife I saw confiscated? I don't mean the kind you buy at Target that looks like this:

I mean the kind that is more terror-inducing than David Hasselhoff on Dancing With the Stars, the kind that looks like this:

Like, no one should have a knife that looks like that except John Locke or Indiana Jones!

Still, even that knife wasn't enough to get us to admit that we were in a shady place. We were like, "But they have free Showtime! And the way the guy living below us always stares at us through his open window as we walk by makes us feel so safe. And that other guy who was kind enough to run after my car as I drove through the parking lot to escort me to my parking space, what a gent!"

Now we are nestled safely in a different motel. A much safer one (I promise Mom!). And hey, no Showtime, but hello HBO! And way faster internet, which is another reason why I am resuming blogging.

And that guy below us who always looked at us through his window, like a watchful guard keeping an eye on our cars among other things? Well I saw his face looking at me again from my computer today as I researched known sex offenders in the motel. Sah-weet!

My Life Was a Gleeful, High School Musical

2010-08-06T19:12:00.000-07:00

People from my High School Class of 2001 have often asked me if we are having a 10 year reunion. My first thought is, "How the heck should I know? I might have been popular in Middle School, but let's not kid ourselves -- in terms of HS popularity I peaked in 10th grade. Shouldn't planning the 10 year reunion be the lot of those Seniors who went out on a high note, say, the Prom Court, the Valedictorian who said 'sexpectations' instead of 'expectations' in his commencement speech, or maybe one of those fun kids who discovered an eternal love of alcohol at the tender age of 15, cuz, you know, their parents would rather it be under their roof since their kids were going to do it anyway? Those kids know how to plan a partayy Holla!"

Well, let me just come clean here before I accuse every student in my graduating class: My name is Stephanie Dunn, Stephanie Call for those of you who knew me in 2001, and I harbor unadulterated hostility, the kind that makes me hiss and spit, at the thought of my High School years. So do you. I don't care if you were popular, unpopular, pock-faced or Brad Pitt, scratch that, he's old... I don't care if you looked like freakin' Zac Efron and was the star of your High School Musical-like experience, the world of High School is institutionalized, legal torture. You know it, I know it. Even if there were some great memories and fantastic friendships and inspiring teachers or programs, High School maimed us all. If this is coming from the girl who was voted "Friendliest" in her graduating class, you can bet your bulldog blvd sauntering butts that somewhere in your mind, a little 15 year old child is whimpering in a dark corner saying, "yes, yes I know EXACTLY what you're referring to. Make it STOOOPPPPP!" Yep, High School was not anyone's best years. Ok, that's not true. But we'll leave those poor fools out of this. High School was not most people's best years' in life, and a reunion is like bringing back the dead -- it's stinky, demoralizing, and downright evil, but you can't help but check out the circus.

So, naturally, I am already planning a year in advance to attend it. That's what masochists do. Masochists and kids who have lost 80 lbs or gotten lots of plastic surgery since HS.

I contacted the class president to ask if he was planning it because I was sick of not having an answer for all the people who kept asking me if it was going to happen. Also, I needed to make sure I could follow their statements of "You should do it" with "JOHNFAMISGOINGTODOIT!" John Fam, you are my scapegoat. Holla! 271 represent! Woot woot! Who let the dawgs out?!

Then John Fam invited me to help with the planning. I had a vision of what this next year of planning would look like -- spending everyday trying to contact people -- that one guy with the great calves who laughed at me when I fell flat on my stomach in my sequined choir dress while running down a crowded hallway, whom I looked up at from my sprawled position on the floor and into his snickering face and weakly said, "Sorry". Sorry? Yes, that's what I said -- sorry. But sorry for what? For falling? Sorry for not punching you in the face jackass!!

Yea, clearly I cannot handle planning this reunion. So I declined. Plus, I specifically didn't run for class president my senior year so that in 10 years I could say with complete legitimacy -- "Dude, that's so not my responsibility." Thank gawd. Someone WAY more mature than me can carry that burden (thank you John Fam).

Facebook has made a reunion somewhat of a moot event. We're all voyeuristic cyber-stalkers, very attuned to the happenings in each other's lives since HS. We've all signed up to participate in an elaborate charade since graduating -- one that depicts our lives as mostly a gaggle of fun over the last ten years. To me Facebook extends that phase of life we find ourselves in in high school -- the one we where we are frequently courting the public and trying to win at the popularity contest of life. Even those who have facebook and claim to refuse to participate in the charade are likely announcing how much they don't care about it on their status updates, clearly indicating that they care enough to make sure everybody knows how much they don't care, how above it or over it or underwhelmed by it they are. BS. The only people who really fall into that category don't have a FB account. Admit it! High School is still haunting you!

And now the class of 2001 can prepare to enter that House of Horror, the ultimate Haunted Mansion, in about 10 months. See you there little monsters!

Music and Memories

2010-07-13T18:01:00.000-07:00

It took me 27 years, but I have stumbled on a childhood secret.

When I was little, and my young mother and father were divorced, my mom and I traveled cross country in her car a lot.

We all have those cloudy memories of childhood moments, snippets that only last 2 seconds when we try to recall them. But certain things bring them, and the emotions of those moments, into sharper focus. For me these moments of clearer memory recollection have always unexpectedly occurred while shopping in a grocery store, flipping through radio stations while driving, or when pumping gas -- a song comes on, one of the cassette songs my mother would play over and over on those long drives cross deserts and plains, and I am three years old again, sitting in the passenger seat of her car, knowing on some mild level that my dad is gone, and that my mom is sad even though she smiles at me a lot, and I'd get wrapped up in those songs, get utterly lost in the emotions of those melodies. I LOVED those songs. They were full of yearning, and I loved feeling my heart-strings tugged in that exact way at that time. Those songs spoke for my mother and I as we drove in silence for hundreds of miles.

I can't remember ever hearing music before those songs. They were the songs of my childhood, played over and over while driving through the terrains of life.

I have never known the bands, singers, or titles of those songs, but when they pop into my world to say hello from some other sound system, I feel I have never known anything better. Even as a 27 year old, when one of them plays and I sing along, I wonder how I can know the words to a song that is so elusive to me -- I couldn't find it on iTunes if I tried.

Until today.

I was browsing through our iTunes Library to see what we had since of the hundreds of songs downloaded there, I can probably count 20 that I have downloaded -- the rest are Dan's doing. Under "Title" I saw the words "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All" and was alerted that it sounded like the lyrics to one of those nostalgic songs. I clicked on it and sure enough, it was one of several in our Library from a band called Air Supply. I clicked through them all and realized something I never knew--my mom was a big Air Supply fan twenty-something years ago. So was I.

Hobos-R-Us

2010-07-11T15:09:00.000-07:00

By now most of you know that hobos are not just people; they are flesh-decomposing venomous Utah house spiders. Dan and I are very familiar with them. In fact, we've had to set up a type of treaty with them since they take up residency with us. It's kinda like vampires and werewolves (You really can explain all life's mysteries with one powerful book: Twilight): no one can prohibit creatures of the night from living close by, but we can at least set up a "Don't harm people" treaty. Since the hobos refuse to move out, we have rules that they must obey.

House Rule #18: "please do not kill us, cause us to wake up with a gaping hole where an eyeball used to be, make our legs look the the guy you got in the pic above, steal all the bedsheets or procreate in the bed you seemed determined to share with us."

That rule follows number 17, which is "If you come out where we can see you, you die," which follows rule 16: "If you come out where we can see you and we've had a bad day, we'll catch you in Tupperware, watch you slowly starve to death, and occasionally shake the container like a banjo." That follows rule #15: "If we see other, non-hobo spiders in the house we will not kill them in case they are feisty enough to kill you. Enter at your own risk."

Needless to say, our house is a spider-central. Just today 2 huge daddy long legs came in through the front door (didn't even knock) screaming "Sanctuary!!!" and all we could do was look at them, shrug our shoulders, and say, "Yep. And an all-you-can-eat hobo buffet." Cause if WE break House Rule number 15, then the hobos have the right to declare all out war and tomorrow I'd be missing an eye.

No joke the photographer of that picture happened to call it "Eyeless Hobo." How ironic!

We've lived like this for a year now. In the winter the hobos virtually disappear, but during the summer months it's hobo mating season and they are wandering around everywhere trying to find their soul mates (as if the little bastards had souls). We do what we can to combat them--set up V traps everywhere, leave certain lights on at night because they prefer to move in the dark, etc. But living with hobos has seriously traumatized me. Everywhere I go I see hobos:

Plus any other dark spot on our carpet that moves (usually ends up being a pillbug, which attracts these suckers):

Lucky us.

As I'm writing this I just glanced to my right and a hobo has broken rule #17. Time to lay down the law...

There :).

Anyway, we've managed. But luckily we are moving soon!!! First House Rule in our new house? "No hobos allowed!"

Letter to 15 Year Old Stephanie

2010-06-24T11:40:00.000-07:00

Dear 15 year old self,

I’ll go easy on you to start, because I know how hard you are on yourself. First off, blonde is NOT your color. I know everyone else is getting blonde highlights, but unless you keep that tan up year round (you know, the one responsible for the wrinkle lines I have now), blonde just washes you out.

Second, it’s important that you begin to understand that people-pleasing is not a mantra for life. Don’t worry, eventually you will understand this. Until then, don’t base your worth and identity on being whatever you perceive you are supposed to be for other people’s sakes. Be you. I know it’s hard to accept, but “you” is not so bad.

Stop it with the boyfriends already! Gah! Someone should have shook you really hard, and then made you write “Daddy issues” 500 times on the chalkboard. You really don’t need to be in those dramatic, energy-sucking black-holes. In fact, you should probably just have fun dating without getting serious. What will really be your parachute when you get that daily feeling that you are falling off a cliff are your friends, not your boyfriends. In fact, Junior year of HS is going to be your favorite. You will be single, have stellar best friends, a rewarding and challenging academic curriculum, and a blast going to several different proms with several different, nice, fun, NON-boyfriends. But you will still have bad skin. Learn to roll with it.

I know you think everyone keeps you around simply because you are “nice,” but there is a whole lot more to you than that. Nice is not bad, but as your dominant, one-dimensional personality trait, it is going to suffocate you. It is going to make you compromise on things that are important to you, and make you sacrifice developing your own voice. You are going to get swept up and lost in the out-going current by being strictly “nice”. Again, don’t worry, all is not lost. You’ll make a fight for your right to be something along with and other than just nice, like interesting, sometimes off-color, and IMPERFECT! I know, I know, I just said the ultimate swear word. But trust me, perfect is boring. It doesn’t have nearly as much to offer the world as the rainbow of personality where mistakes, sillyness, boldness, rebelliousness, integrity, and freedom dwell. You’ll find your way back to shore eventually. And yes, there are sharks in the water! Swim for the shore anyway! Make a big splash!

Keep it up with the morals. They really do matter, and they will help you avoid a lot of heartache in life. So will your mom, dad, granddad, and the Pentecost’s.

A couple of your best friends now will still be your best friends in 10 years. Even though you can’t see the future, you know which ones they are. It will be unspeakably gratifying to have people in your life who have known the you of years past. In fact, they will know the you in this letter, and when they read it they will probably say to me “You were too hard on yourself back then.” They still say that to you, btw. And they are right.
Keep those friends close. Be brave in a different way than you are trying to be brave now. Let your true self shine – and that INCLUDES your brunette hair for the love of all that is holy!

Sincerely,
27 year old you

Today

2010-05-31T18:37:00.001-07:00

Today I danced with a hundred-year-old man in front of dozens of strangers. He asked me to promise that I'd never forget him. I won't.

Genes

2010-05-28T23:40:00.001-07:00

This makes me smile.

Tsss sss sss

2010-05-25T16:33:00.001-07:00

I don't love to just stare at Dan while he's sleeping... I love to EXPLOIT him! And also to share with you the terror that is sharing a bed with a man who sleeps with his eyes partially open.

It's hard to see in these pics, but his eyes are open in all of them except for one. Look for the glint of the pupil!

Making any Place "Home Sweet Home"

2010-05-15T12:16:00.000-07:00

Dan and I have moved 10 times in 4 years. We've lived in Washington State, several cities in California, Minnesota, and Utah, from luxery apartments to basement apartments to apartments whereupon our first day of moving in we found an official letter on our door that read, "The serial rapist terrorizing our apartment complex has not yet been caught..." and then detailing his description, the latest person he assaulted (an elderly woman), and warning us of ways to stay catious (which I translated into "stay indoors all day with the blinds drawn and the doors locked. If you must buy food, starve. If your dog has to urinate, TOO BAD. If you open your door you WILL be raped.") That's how I felt living there, at least.

Moving so much has been both an adventure and a pain in my hASSle! (That's not technically swearing, right? Points for me.) We've experienced the feel of different cities like the lush greenery of Washington, the pristine buzz of Minneapolis, the dry desert beauty of Murrieta, CA, and so on.

We own a home in Lehi, but as it is quite large for the 2 of us (do the math. 1 large house + 1 husband who works + 1 wife who takes care of the home = too much house for Stephanie to clean without plotting ways to hire young children for cheap labor) we are fortunate to rent it out. It's an investment property, not the home we want to have a family and a life in. Currently we are tackling the idea of either buying a condo, or finishing our basement in our Lehi home and turning it into a separate entrance apartment and living there rent free for a few years while we save up to build our custom dream home.

So. In the meantime we have gotten very good at figuring out CHEAP ways to make rental spaces our own. In many rentals you can't paint the walls, so I realized that if I wanted a warm, inviting, colorful space without painting, and even without putting holes in the walls, I could buy lightweight Styrofoam insulating sheets from Home Depot, buy several yards of fabric to wrap around and glue to the sheets, and then get that thick double-sided tape to tape it up on the walls. The result has been turning these ugly-ducklings of rental rooms into..., well, maybe not swans. But definitely geese. Geese are a worthy comparison. Here's the result:

We used to move so much because of Dan's work. However, as Dan has been promoted and chosen a better company to work for, we now have the option of staying in one place for good! No more moving!

Kaitlyn and Todd's Wedding

2010-05-10T22:16:00.000-07:00

Few things make me happier than the marriage of a loved one to a well-chosen person. Close seconds are flan and Harry Potter.

Kaitlyn McGuire is now Mrs. Todd Whitcomb, and I couldn't be happier for her! My favorite moments of the day were when the newlyweds kissed (so every other second of the day was my favorite) and when the mother of the Bride, Amy, invited me to stand with her extended family for the formal McGuire family pictures.

Some of my favorite photos from Dan and my wedding are the ones where we are hugging loved ones right after the ceremony. So I took a lot of these for Kaity.

Shadows

2010-05-04T19:16:00.001-07:00

We cast a shadow, a hole in the light, a ray of darkness that is shaped like ourselves -- some might say that it contains no information save the profile of our own forms -- but they are wrong. --Neal Stephenson Quicksilver

Shadows are what's between the lines on a page, the detail that makes art have depth, and the part of ourselves that we can't ever see unless we are in the light.

Today

2010-04-30T17:33:00.000-07:00

Today I:
-Was given a business card by a male escort offering his services
-Got inspired by the quote "If you're not eating, sleeping, drinking, and thinking about what you do for a living every day, it will take a long time for you to get really good at it."
-Decided to do the dishes
-Changed my mind
-Fought the impulse to buy flan
-Was given an award at work for outstanding customer service
-Marveled at the good timing of receiving such an award because I was just about to ask my boss to write a letter of recommendation for my Grad School application
-Got really excited about going on a double date with friends/neighbors The Sorensen's tomorrow night
-drove to 3 different banks before finding the one I needed
-Felt lucky to be married to a man who sends me texts that say, "I love you more than life itself!!! Thank you for being my wife and best friends! Mooch!"

Bad Dreams and Coda Things

2010-04-29T14:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Coda,
Why do we love you so much? Is it because you stay in bed with whichever of us gets up last? Is it because you let us stick our fingers in your nostrils, probe your ears, and hold your paws as if they were hands? Or because even when you are starving and there's a bowl of dog food 2 feet away, you'd rather have us pet you than eat?

Maybe it's because you sleep-talk as much as we do? Or have a fast metabolism like us?

Maybe it's the games you play with us: seeing if we can kiss you on the nose while you pretend not to see us, and then whip around to lick us before our lips reach their target, or having a stare down contest with you because it makes you put your head back in a 90 degree angle to your neck, and it's just SO FUNNY EVERY TIME.

I had a dream last night that I made you pull me in a cart across the desert until we reached Arizona, and you became dehydrated and died. I woke up crying, and in my half-awake stupor promised you I would NEVER have you pull me in a cart across the desert. NEVERRRRR!!!!!!!!!

Love,
Stephanie

Problem solved: bigger problem averted

2010-04-17T15:27:00.000-07:00

So there are a few times in my life where even my ye-of-little-faith mind can't dismiss the seemingly present hand of a God whose fingers are even in the pie of my life.

One of these times recently happened.

I have been debating for 2 years now about how to best go about doing the thing I most love: write. Considering attending Grad School to get my Masters in Fine Arts in Creative Writing has been a prominent avenue I've considered. So, after 2 years of twiddling with the idea, I decided a month ago to move forward. I enrolled in writing classes, ordered my GRE study books, and decided which Grad Programs I would apply to: University of Utah, BYU, University of Arizona, Arizona State University, and UC Irvine (all of which have MFA Creative Writing programs placed in the top 50 or 100 in the nation, with the exception of BYU who just barely created a program for the MFA). I started getting all eager about the idea when this little thought crept in: what if Grad School kicks the crap out of the kind of writing I most enjoy in the name of academic excellence? What f I spend 2 years in a program that taints every aspect of what is best about my writing style?

Why this thought? I'll tell you why. Because I took one writing class at UCLA a year ago which made it clear that there is a specific style of writing that is categorized as "literature," and the rest is dismissed immediately, or at least as quickly as you can say "Expelliarmus!" (That was a hint into another masterful fiction writer they would have beat the snot out of). In that class I found myself torn between 2 desires: to write what they deemed as "good", which I occasionally did to the delight of my classmates and Professors, or to write what I loved, at which they often smiled pleasantly to cover their clenched teeth before saying something benign, like "Good for you for having fingers to type and for being able to write complete sentences." At least that's how it felt.

Another thing that spurned this suspicion -- every year a book is published releasing the top "Best" short stories of Creative Writing Grad Students across the nation. I've read those books, and there seems to be a definite vein of writing that you must master, rather than a whole spectrum of writing styles, the is only represented in the "Bests" publication.

So, I've had a lot of questions as of late and until a week ago, no sense of how to answer them. Questions like, "Does the academe really only foster a limited class of writing style, or am I imagining that? Is the kind of writing I do good and acceptable in other spheres, or is it less appreciated in the academe because it just plain sucks? How on earth do I get into the walls of these Grad Program classrooms before actually attending them to spy on what they are teaching? And would such classes foster my growth or misguide my goals in writing?

Well, I wasn't even sure I was onto something. After all, these concerns seemed based on one class at UCLA, and my perception of the "Best" publication -- easily a faulty bases of forming facts -- not a reflection of years of diverse experience and training. But then it happened: that guiding hand that answered a prayer I didn't even know I was praying.

The writing class I enrolled in recently has a Professor, we'll call her Marge, and Marge not only has an MFA, but a PH-FREAKIN-D, in Creative Writing. And for no good reason at all, she started talking one day in class about how the main reason she got a PhD was to be able, in academic terms, to defend the kind of writing SHE loves to do: supernatural Young Adult novels (a definite no no among the writing elite). She said if her skin weren't so thick she probably wouldn't have finished her grad program, because everywhere she looked the students and Professors were saying, "This here is the target, this is the bulls-eye that you should be aiming to cultivate in your writing," and she was like (and I had this very thought verbatim when I took that class at UCLA), "I can do that. I can hit that bulls-eye. BUT I have my own bulls-eye, which is just as legit as yours, but you are so focused on your bulls-eye that you don't know how to recognize any other writer's target."

So, after class I went to consult with Marge. It was deja vu for me, because the last time I had an un-prayed prayer answered I was randomly placed in the presence of someone who knew how to direct me to the information I needed, information I couldn't get just by searching the internet or asking around. The kind of information that 1 in 500 people will have and I just happen to have been placed at the feet of that very one, and they said something for no good reason that made me think, "Hey, I should ask them more about that." And wholla! problem solved.

So Marge brought an article to me the following week that helped me define and confirm my thoughts. Here's what I learned...

There are two general categories of writing in fiction: literary fiction, and genre fiction. Literary fiction could be compared to classical music--it is considered the sophisticated man's artistic preference, or in this case, the academe's sense of real writing. Genre fiction can be compared to all music that can be defined into genre music--jazz, hip-hop, pop, r&b, folk, country -- all very much appealing to a wider audience than just the scholars and all easily being placed into a genre or two. In writing that consists of all the commercial writing--meaning the books that actually sell--thriller, mystery, romance, fantasy, sci-fi, etc. MFA programs DO NOT nurture genre writing, with the exception of 1 -- a University in Pennsylvania.

Wow. Problem averted. I might have attended a Grad School and two years and $30K later, realized not only did I not learn what I had hoped to learn, but my natural drive to write genre fiction would have been beaten to a pulp and thrown into the garbage disposal, then burned for good measure.

I am so grateful and excited for this information miraculously coming my way, and for a sense of how to move forward with my passion.

Mr Rodgers, how right you were

2010-04-17T15:16:00.000-07:00

I can't remember ever seeing a prettier day in Utah. Spring is here, and unlike many other places I've lived, you can tell!

Driving around town there is no shortage of these

or these

or even these little buggers

Trees blooming with purple flowers, dusty pinks, and whites are on every common neighbors lawn. I think our eyes are drawn to the colors more so after living through a winter where black, white, and gray have been the eyes palette for the last several months.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Introducing Natalie

2010-03-30T19:14:00.000-07:00

Ok folks -- this is Natalie.

Natalie is my oldest best friend. It goes like this:

Once there were two little girls, content in their little worlds,
happy as they thought they could be.
But Someone knew better, so these two became neighbors,
and they were happier sharing company.
One year became 2, and 2 became 3,
and decade or 2 went by...
And now those 2 girls, once in their own little worlds,
are friends for eternity.

That was just for you Nat. You better love it bleeaatch! (See how I can stretch out a sentimental moment?)

The first time I saw Natalie she was naked and wearing diapers (which is weird cuz she was, like, 3 or 4 -- I guess she was a late bloomer). Seeing such gloriousness, I instantly said, "Get out of the way while I play with your older, COOLER sister you 4-year old diaper-wearer!" Ok, so I didn't say that, but I did go play with her sisters.

Natalie is one year younger than I (but she has amazingly youthful skin so she's basically 14, which makes me 13 years older than her in reality). She and I grew up attending the same schools, going to the same church, and often being part of the same organizations. I can't remember if we spent much time together before middle school, but I DO remember the year I fell in love with her as a best friend. I was basically disowned by all of my "friends" at the end of my 8th grade year. Why? Because middle school is reserved strictly for Satan's minions parading around as cute little pre-pubescents while secretly deciphering how to destroy each others lives. Those years suck. But they build character. I firmly believe that without the hardships of middle school no one would have character. And I don't mean to exclude myself from the hellion. I was plenty shades of awful to my "friends" too.

ANYWAY.

At the end of 8th grade I went from being super-popular to knowing that if I went on the playground during recess that I would be met with a lot of hostility and mean girls! I did not have a single friend. So I roamed the halls where the younger kids (here comes Natalie's grand entrance) were still in class. For whatever reason, one day Natalie and I met in the hall. She and Alexa Jessup and Lindsey Romero. And they were so kind, and supportive. And they helped me through a very lonely time.

Natalie and I became best friends. Who knows how that happens exactly. But over the years, although we spent most of our time with peers our age, we still told everyone that we were best friends. And we were. We'd have our own rendezvous (not unlike meeting in the hallway in the early days) and catch up and share all the deepest and most personal and most afraid and most hopeful and embarrassing experiences/thoughts/ideas with each other. And we're both advice givers so we'd give each other a lot of advice. Advice overload if you get us together and say something like, "To wax or not to wax? To wed or not to wed?" I'd be annoyed with us if I weren't us.

Anyway, nothing much has changed. Natalie was my Maid of Honor, we see each other often, and I expect her to name her first born after me. Stephan, if it's a boy (don't try to get around it just because it might not be a girl Natalie!).

Here are a few snapshots of my Natsters over the years:

Natalie and I on our way to Church Girl's Camp the summer after 7th grade for her, 8th grade for me

Natalie and I hanging out at my house and snacking on MickeyD's, 8th grade for her, 9th for me

At Dalt's in Burbank, CA after performing in Pop Show. I am a Junior, she's a Sophomore with the breasts of a 25 year old mom breast-feeding. I may or may not have been jealous.

In St. Louis competing with our respective show choirs at Nationals

Walking down the LDS Modesty Fashion Show Catwalk (where I would not be content without having a chance to show my undies... swing dancing was just a means to an end)

Getting ready to go on a double date: Natalie, I know you hate pictures like this. I know what you are thinking and I will spare revealing your reason for hating this picture of yourself. Just take comfort in 2 facts: I am white as toilet paper and look like I could use some in my bra.

One day I grew up and went away to college in a different state. Here Natalie and I are together in Burbank staying up as late as possible before I leave the next day to head back to college. (It's sentimental Natalie! Stop cringing that it isn't the best photo! You are supposed to go, awwwwww, I remember that. Get. Over. It. RIGHT NOW!)

At her Grad Night at Disneyland!!!

A more recent pic of us with her sister April at Natalie's 15th birthday celebration!

Love you Nat!

The Happiest Place on Earth

2010-03-25T14:17:00.000-07:00

I still feel like a kid on Christmas morning when I go to Disneyland.

Disneyland is fascinating. With no spectacular roller-coasters, no celebrity shows/attractions, no alcohol (or even gum), and a gigantic mouse as the front-lining Host, it is a wonder what makes Disneyland so magical.

I have long since been enamored with Disneyland, and Walt Disney himself. Walt Disney's first step in the direction of the Dinsey Empire was taking art classes in high school. He focused his cartoons on patriotic themes and WW1, and dropped out of High School to join the Army, which rejected him for being underage.

Mickey Mouse was born after Walt had tasted success, lost it all, and found himself alone and needing a new character. The famous mouse was based on a pet he had in the past, and Walt shaped the personality of the cartoon, even being the Mouse's voice-over, giving it "soul".

Walt won an Academy Award for the Mouse, developed Donald, Pluto, and Goofy, and then set his ambitions higher: the first feature-length animated film in America and Technicolor he would call "Snow White." The film industry coined this project "Walt's Folly" certain it would fail and take down Walt's company in the process (someone underestimated the appeal of the princess to little girls all over the country!). Walt ran out of money mid-project, got a loan from Bank of America to finish it, and at the opening premiere the film received a standing ovation from the audience. The film earned over $8 million dollars. This ushered in the Golden Age of Animation for Disney Studios, where Fantasia, Peter Pan, and others would follow.

During WW2 Walt promoted cartoon shorts to boost moral. Walt also contracted with Lockheed to design a bird's eye camouflage to make 550 acres of its WWII aviation production facility seem to disappear early in 1941, allowing it and other U.S, aircraft manufacturers to meet wartime quotas undeterred.

Eventually he set his sites on Disneyland, saying, "I first saw the site for Disneyland back in 1953, In those days it was all flat land - no rivers, no mountains, no castles or rocket ships - just orange groves, and a few acres of walnut trees." Disneyland, with it's castle, simple rides based on beloved cartoons and films, reflects something patriotoc, imaginative, ideal, and hopeful in the hearts of people all over the world. The Disney Empire makes billions of dollars a year, continuing, as is stated as the Disney employee slogan, to "Make Magic Happen."

"I only hope that we don't lose sight of one thing - that it was all started by a mouse." -Walt Disney

Dan & I went to the park because of Disney Parks' Give a Day, Get a Disney Day volunteer program in which Disney encouraged people of all ages to volunteer with a participating Disney Charity and receive a free Disney Day at either the Disneyland Resort in California or the Walt Disney World Resort in Florida. On March 9th, 2010, Disney announced that it has reached its goal of one million volunteers and ended the promotion to anyone who had not yet registered and signed up for a specific volunteer situation.

Things that make Disneyland Magical:
1) Hidden Mickey's. If you ever go to Disneyland or World buy the book on Hidden Mickeys -- there are camouflaged Mickey's, Pluto's, Donald's, and Goofy's all over the park. I have found 4--in the Haunted mansion when overlooking the dining room scene, all the dining sets on the table are standard, except for one placing, which has a main plate with two saucers attached to the upper rim, forming a Mickey face. Another is in The Pirates of the Caribbean--when traveling through the cannonball scene with the ships aiming across the way at each other, look to the right. The brick wall has cannonball holes which form a Mickey head. On Big Thunder-Mountain Railroad look on the left--a large wheel with two smaller wheels attached to it makes a Mickey head. The most exciting one I have seen is on the Peter Pan ride--after circling the Big Ben Clock, look over your left shoulder and find the top right smallest window on the 3D Clock--a tiny silhouette of Mickey is in the window.

Dan likes to think these flowers are Hidden Mickeys:

2) Leaving a Light on for Walt. When Disneyland was being constructed Walt Disney wanted to be able to stay nearby to supervise. Anaheim where Disneyland is located was about an hour away from where he lived so Disney had an apartment built above the fire station on Main Street where he could spend the night.

Everyone knew when Walt was there because of the light left on in the window of the apartment. After Disney died a light has been left on in the apartment window in his memory. The apartment has been left the same way it was when he died but it isn't open for public viewing.

3) It's all in the Details. Walt Disney wanted each of land areas to be separate fantasies and made sure that as guests traveled from one land to another that they were transported to a totally different experience. Part of this transformation includes the changing of the color, texture and shapes of everything from one land area to another. For instance the ground in New Orleans is cobblestone but in Fantasyland the ground is green asphalt.

The trash can colors and shapes also change and so does the background music.

4) Free coffee refills and balloon replacements. Order a cup of coffee, then present your empty cup to any vendor throughout the day to get a free refill. Show the remains of a popped balloon and get free balloons.

5) Birthday VIP treatment. Tell City Hall on Main Street that it is your birthday and you will receive a pin to wear. Upon seeing the pin, staff will often sing to you, orchestras will play "Happy Birthday," bakeries will give you a free treat, and so on.

6) Can you Smell That? Disneyland pumps certain scents to create a more immersive experience. For instance, on Main street they pump the smells of peppermint, vanilla, fudge, and cotton candy.

Captain EO is back!

Dan's face on Space Mountain is priceless

Eating the AMAZING FOOD at The Blue Bayou

A wonderful day comes to an end; riding the tram to the parking lot.

Cruising and Perusing

2010-03-22T17:08:00.000-07:00

Day 2 on the ship--another sea day. By now I have identified two people that I will eat should we get stranded at sea, with no electricity, and nothing but spoiled food in the gallows.

Lounging with some of the girls. We saw 2 whales playfully jumping out of the water just behind us.

Some of our friends in Titan

Being backup dancers for Mike as he karaoked to "Baby Got Back"

Missing Coda but finding consolation in this towell

A dance party under the stars on the upper deck

Day 3--Puerto Vallarta!

Accomplishments of the day:
Arriving and hour late to our snorkeling excursion and having to pay extra money to take a boat to another boat. Extra points for me getting seasick.

Surviving in this without breaking down or grating our legs like cheese into the gravel by letting them hang through the holes in the floor of the car.

Getting kissed by a sea lion

Swimming with Nemo, Ally, Mara, and Gandolph. Did you know dolphins NEVER sleep? Did you know Gandolph was a dolphin?

Day 4--Mazatlan

Best part of the day? Dining at Casa Loma!
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Day 5--Cabo San Lucas

Last night on the ship. There are no photos from the day time because we slept in watched movies in our room, and totally vegged!

Getting ready to see Dan perform for the passengers in one of the ship's shows!

"Legends" show as Frank Sinatra

Frank Sinatra is totally hot

Crazy for Karaoke!

Leave of Absence

2010-02-25T20:01:00.000-08:00

I am taking a leave of absence... FROM LIFE! Dan & I are going on a vacation for the next 10 days. Where to? I'm not telling! But here's a clue: Hasta la vista!!!

To be continued with many pictures and maybe even a tan!

My Parma

2010-01-20T14:01:00.000-08:00

This is Rosa. She is fun-sized, ridiculously talented (compare to Harry Potter in the subject "Defense Against the Dark Arts" for point of reference), has the prettiest eyes and smile, is full of light, is a strong and sweet woman, and is one of the loveliest people I know.

Rosa and Esther and I are best friends. We met in Noteworthy, were then roommates in college, and have accompanied each other through life's ups and downs ever since. Fun facts: Esther hates washing her hair and never wears make-up; Rosa is not just the funniest girl you will ever meet, but hands down the funniest person; they are about as tall as hobbits; Esther will become a master at any new hobby she takes on in about three months; bitterness will never be part of Rosa's personality, no matter how tough life gets; Dan and I love them both dearly. We like to take pictures of us with no upper lips (see picture here) but end up laughing too much to keep our lips stuck to our upper gums.

Rosa and Ben got married on January 16, 2010!!!

I did her hair for the wedding. I had no idea what I was doing, but since I am so used to making hair as thin and practically balding as mine look decent, it was cake cuz Rosa has the best head of hair this side of the 70's.

Rosa+Ben=happy Rosa=happy me.

If You Can't Run With the Big Dogs, Stay on the Porch

2010-01-14T20:41:00.001-08:00

This puppy was young, naive, and didn't know that in the dog world you can't just do whatever you please simply because you are cute. Coda was annoyed at the pup's ignorance...

... and decided to teach it a lesson! Fortunately, the fangs were only for show. Coda's never bitten anyone or anything, and was just trying to communicate to the puppy to relax!

(no one was injured in the making of this blog)

If you Want the Best Seat in the House, Move the Dog

2010-01-14T20:01:00.000-08:00

Coda is the third member of our family. She is the best dog in the world, and that's not an exaggeration. She might seem spoiled, but the truth is, we're just well trained. She's a bit more human than most canines, and so we let he have a shot at writing the Family Newsletter this year. She dictated, I typed. Here's the year 2009 straight from the doghouse:

Dear Upright Walking, Relatively Hairless Animals (UWRHA),

This year has been markedly uneventful, & that’s even after I tried to mark every outdoor surface to spice things up. My UWRHAs think “uneventful” is a good thing, something about security, no drama, blah blah blah grrrrrr.

My UWRHAs celebrated their 4-year wedding anniversary, which concerns me because they seemed especially festive over the fact in spite of it signifying my 21st birthday. And instead of buying me my first bowl of liver juice they left me at home & went to hunt. I shed extra hair that night just to teach ‘em!

Our pack moved three times this year. My UWRHAs kept talking about “new business opportunities,” & “good time to take risks,” & before I knew it we were living in Minneapolis. But after one month of living there, we were moving to Utah. I guess the risk was too risky. But now we live in a great neighborhood with a big yard for me to pee, uh, I mean, play in. We are also closer to the home we own in Utah & can manage it & the wonderful renters there without paying a Management Company. Two dewclaws up for that!

My Alpha (Stephanie) spent the year petting me, writing a blog (sounds like DOG, & I was jealous at first, but turns out it’s just this public yearbook called danandstephaniedunn.blogspot.com), taking care of all things domestic such as cleaning up all the food I carry from my bowl & leave half chewed & covered in saliva on the living-room carpet, & managing the duplex we live in. She also wrapped up a business venture she began in 2008, which was all in all a wonderful experience & in which she is grateful for the entrepreneurship, public speaking, leadership, & business growth she had there. Now, she & her mom (in my world we call female sires something else entirely, but for some reason UWRHAs always over-react when I call moms that) Elizabeth, are custom-painting themes, pictures, murals, & designs on walls in people’s homes, business offices, etc. They are building their portfolio & need to do more rooms/walls to show other’s what they are capable of. So those of you in California who know what a talented artist Elizabeth is, bark at her at taridove@hotmail.com because she is offering free custom-designed wall art to the first 3 people who contact her! Premium quality guaranteed (Like Purina!).

Dan (second in the Dominance Hierarchy) is working as a Regional Sales Manager for Titan Alarms. He loves the company & has fast become Titan’s number one selling representative! Everyday he bundles himself up in snow-repellant clothes (to tell the truth he looks like a hot dog in a big bun—yummy—it makes my jowls water just writing about it!) sips apple cider, & heads out into the snow. I understand why he does this everyday—rituals are very important to dogs. Take me, for instance – I wake up, eat my food, go potty, dig a couple shallow holes, run inside & curl up with my Alpha in bed, play in the afternoon, eat & potty, & dig again in the evening, & curl up in bed again at night. If any one of these things gets thrown off, I am either puking up bile or needing to potty in the early morning hours. Rituals are very important.

In Dan’s spare time he makes this black & white thing bark all kinds of interesting pitches, & has created some of his best barks ever. He & Stephanie are frequently called on to bark at various events, & enjoy howling sweet music together.

As for myself, I love our big backyard in Utah. It’s a good day when I can lounge outside chewing on twigs & catching snow as it falls from the trees. It’s a great day when a cat comes to visit & I let him know in no uncertain terms that he is not barking welcome! (Excuse the language—I get a little pissy – no marking territory pun intended – about trespassing cats)

I try to surprise my UWRHAs every year with some new & nearly impossible feat. Last year I sprained my tail. This year I was itching & itching, & they kept giving me flea baths, checking for lice, & putting flea & tick repellant on me, all to no avail. Little did they know that there aren’t even fleas in Utah. After relentless scratching, they took me to the vet & the diagnosis? Allergies. I thought only UWRHAs got allergies, & I am proud to have this irritation, which defies all reason & makes me closer to their species. They seemed less than thrilled. I also injured my dewclaw. Twice. (That’s the part marked “D” in the diagram below).

Some highlights of the year: Dan’s mom, Louise, went back & received her Bachelor’s degree! We are so proud of her! We welcomed Conner, Dan’s brother Dave’s newborn son, into the extended pack. We were able to attend weddings for Tanner & Sarah, & DJ & Marlene – Congrats again! Thanksgiving & Christmas was spent with the wonderful McGuire’s & their extended packs. The neighbors who moved into the duplex we manage (The Sorensen’s) have fast become best pack mates. We visited California multiple times to see Elizabeth, family, & friends & always enjoy that treat (even more than Milkbones, which is A LOT!).

I am excited for this New Year! By this time next year I will be the same age as my UWRHAs, & maybe, since I will be more their equal in age, I can challenge Dan & one up him in the Dominance Hierarchy! We hope you have as much to look forward to & more in this New Year! Keep your ears perked & your noses sharp—good things await!

Noteworthy News

2010-01-12T17:16:00.000-08:00

Noteworthy 2009-10 and Kaity & I, both Alumni

Five years ago a BYU student named Esther Yoder decided to start a 9-girl a cappella group. She recruited 2 other students, Dave Brown and Dan Dunn, to help her found the group which would be called Noteworthy. As for me, I was too eager to dance to be interested in singing the semester the group was to hold auditions. But fate, or maybe it was my feet, had other plans. One snowboarding trip and a bunny hill later, my feet were fumbling and my knee-cap was dislocating. So much for dance that semester.

I needed another creative outlet. A friend and co-worker, Leora, found a flyer on campus announcing auditions for "Noteworthy," and urged Shannon and I to try out with her. Half interested in doing something creative, half being pulled along by my friend, I found myself in line to audition. And I made it! And Dan Dunn later became my husband. And if you thought that right about now is when I write, "And the point of Noteworty and why it means so much to me is because it brought Dan & I together," you'd only be partially right. Truth is, Noteworthy introduced me to two of my dearest friends, Esther Yoder and Rosa Parma, introduced me to my husband, provided me with wonderful college memories..... and only 5 years later has earned nothing short of an international reputation.

Our first year as "Noteworthy," us gals and our directors sat down and created a dream sheet -- things we hoped the group would amount to over the next 10-20 years. On that list we wrote that we'd like to produce albums, compete and someday win ICCA, tour internationally, etc. In just 5 short years the talented and motivated members, alumni, supporters, and directors have accomplished all of the above and more. Noteworthy, our little fun fling of a female singing group, recently competed on NBC's "The Sing Off," has been invited to compete internationally in Hong Kong, has placed first internationally at ICCA, and has gained the kind of fans that aren't at concerts because they are related to the singers, but because they are actual fans! At Noteworthy's most recent concert, the singers were actually selling autographed posters. And even more incredible was that people were paying to own them!

Dan and I sat in the audience so enamored with these girls who are special to us in a way they won't ever know. They have nurtured and grown Noteworthy from something we loved and helped begin into a lasting legacy, one which will include many other members over the years and provide them with the same meaningful memories, friendships, and experiences it provided us with. And as they continue to grow in status and success, the entity "Noteworthy" will continue to make us proud and connect past, present, and future members with the common thread of being a part of something that is special to all of us.

Christmas Part 5: The Sunday After Christmas

2009-12-29T01:19:00.001-08:00

Dan, Coda and I spent the night at Paul and Denise's, and woke up to get ready to sing in their Church Ward. While getting ready, I overheard the family watching "Music and the Spoken Word," where their dad (Paul) sings in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. This program is played live every Sunday morning. I thought it was neat that even after their dad being in Motab for I think 2 years, they still got up and tuned in on Sunday mornings. Paul isn't often caught on film when the Motab sings, but they were looking for him anyway! I thought it was very sweet.

Shan, Kaitlyn, Rob, Pauls, Denise, their children, the Furse's, and Julie (Megan's mom), and Dan and I sang "Jesu the Very Thought of Thee" for the ward special music number, and then sat down among the congregation. Shannon and I sat next to each other and whispered incredibly witty remarks, the secrets of eternal youth, comments on Devin's paper "Optimization of a Numerical Model of Three Dimensional Heat Transfer During Friction Stir Welding of 304L Stainless Steel," and other fascinating things to each other throughout Sacrament.

After Sacrament Shan, Dan, and I went to Stan's and took some soup in hand, heated it up in a pan (actually a microwave but for poetic purposes allow me some liberties), then off to the couch we ran, and watched Julie and Julia again (at least for Shannon the "again" kind-of applies--she had watched the first third of it already).

We then all took naps, and awoke to yummy ham sandwiches, celebrating Paul and Devin's birthdays, and trying to out-laugh the other room. The adults laughed so loud, so us young adults and kids fauz-laughed much louder. Then the adults laughed even louder. Then we tried to out-do them but it turned into clapping and shrieking, and yeowling like cats in heat.

At night we played "Reverse Charades", where an entire team of people try to act out a phrase and only one person on their team guesses what phrase. Some fun phrases of the night: Proctology, Astronaut (to which my team pointed to Megan's Dad, who is an astronaut, in effort to get me to say the right word and to which I blurted out "Bald!" instead), Taxidermy (the room proceeded to cut open and stuff Coda and Fergie), etc. Endless fun.

But it had to end. Dan & I felt lonely being the only two people in our home that night after spending 4 days with 20 plus McGuires. I had to say goodbye to Shannon, who is returning to Boston where she attends Law School (and is the top 20% I will add!). Coda had to say goodbye to Fergie, and who knew dogs could cry? We had to leave all the McGuires but not before setting our next date for February!

Christmas Part 4: Not Christmas Anymore but Trying to Keep Within the Theme

2009-12-29T00:56:00.000-08:00

Saturday Night, the day after Christmas. We went to Paul and Denise's again for Music Night. They were generous and let us bring our dog, Coda, so that we could spend the night without neglecting her. Coda and Fergie are now BFFs. Or, at least, if they were human, and not interested in taking each others prized chewies, and had opposable thumbs in which to shake hands, they would be great friends. But they did a great job tolerating each other.

Saturday Night was full of song. Most everyone came prepared with instruments, everything from fiddles and guitars to bongo drums and a piano. Grandma Coreen, true to fashion, came prepared to create a choir out of all of us. She had sheet music and we sang many lovely songs. If it were a competition (and when your as competitive as I am, it is hard not to see most everything as a competition), the Pinders would have taken the cake. Four children each playing different string and drum instruments, with mom on bass and dad on the guitar, all singing on pitch! Then again, there is Paige, who has such a beautiful voice I am sure she will be struck down seconds before the Second Coming so she can be used to sing with the angels. She's that good. Literally heavenly. Truth be told, everyone there was too musical to sound bad, and it was so nice to listen to. I was invited to sing in a couple of choral numbers (Come Unto Me and Jesu the Very Thought of Thee), but when prodded to sing a solo later in the evening I declined. I had nothing prepared, and I am musical enough to know that I am not musical enough to sing in public off the cuff!

Highlight of the night: eating ham soup with beans that we all grew in kindergarten. The HUGE ones! I'll include a picture so you remember.

The horse is to show you the beans actual size.

Christmas Part 1: B.C. mas

2009-12-28T23:19:00.000-08:00

B.C. mas? Think about it.

Dan and I are on our home-stretch toward being debt free! We have made many personal sacrifices this year to significantly increase the amount of debt we pay down each month, including not eating out, not going to more than 1 movie a month, our firstborn child, your firstborn child, and not buying expensive gifts for Christmas.

Of course, time is money, and when one family (they shall remain anonymous) is not spending large amounts of money for Christmas, they are compensating by putting epic hours in to hand-make gifts. Actually, not they. She. But that's ok because He is spending all his time working, and doesn't have time to print, cut out, and glue 80 pictures onto clear stones (that could not be found until going to four craft stores because Utah is obsessed with crafts and alongside scrap-booking, clear stones are apparently the hottest thing since polyester/lycra blend garments). He also doesn't have time to realize the glue she used distorted all the pictures, nor to undo and then re-do all 80 magnets. Also, he doesn't have time to throw his finger-nails somewhere other than on the carpet, but that's a different subject.

But it all paid off, and here are some of the magnets Mrs. Anonymous made for Christmas gifts this year:

In good form, Murphy's Law swept in and said that those gifts had to be fundamentally flawed. Turns out the magnet cylinders I glued on the back of each stone are not strong enough to stick them to anything, except maybe Jupiter, which is composed of strong magnetic material (do they celebrate Christmas on Jupiter? Maybe I can re-route where Santa delivers these gifts...). All in all I've decided my non-magnetic magnets are ok, because now I know what to get everyone for Christmas next year--stronger magnets to glue onto the weaker magnets!

On a serious note, because my children will read this someday, I want them to know that we think Christmas is a very meaningful holiday. We love our Savior, and celebrate his birth with much joy. I don't think I got through hearing "Little Shepherd Boy" on the radio once this year without tearing up with gratitude. Yes, mom is sap. And although we kept this Christmas so frugal that our gifts to family and friends cost under $20.00, we decided to anonymously sponsor one family who would not be able to afford any gifts this year for themselves or their children. I wish we could have sponsored 100 families. We value generosity, and hope that in the future we will continue to be in a position to give. We have received so much--living in this country of freedom, having our health and work--such things are more than most people all over the world have. It's important to give where it is needed.

10 Trees

2009-11-14T15:14:00.000-08:00

Utah is a beautiful state. The people are terminally nice, the mountains are majestic (and full of mountain lions), and there are four distinct seasons. I have always loved Fall in Utah. As a student at BYU, every sidewalk greeted me with a concession of blood reds, bright yellows, and rustic oranges covering every tree and bush as I walked to class. Being enamored with the colors, I never really pondered where all those leaves went when they browned and fell. Heaven? The Celestial Kingdom? It was my luxury just to enjoy the view. However, now I am a property manager of a duplex that has 11 trees. That is a lot of freaking leaves! And I have discovered something my Californian self never knew--the miracle of the rake. And I have the blisters to prove it.

Here are Dan, Coda, and our amazing neighbors (Trent, Nicole, and Brenden Sorensen) helping me tidy up the yard, bathing in leaves, and playing football.

2008 Dunn Family Picture Highlights

2008-12-19T15:30:00.001-08:00

American Idol Concert with Mom

Hiking

Going to see Wicked

What I wake up to every blessed morning

Thanksgiving

Halloween Costume

At one of our favorite Hangouts

Tha Farewell/Birthday party we threw for best friend Shannon who moved to the East Coast for law school - we are so proud of her!

The book I made her conatining letters from all her friends

3 Year Anniversary at Disneyland and on a gondola ride in Newport harbor surrounded by jelly fish!

Instead of swearing Dan will sometimes exclaim the mere letter "F!"

A little about us...

2008-09-05T13:50:00.000-07:00

As new bloggers I feel it is fitting to say a little something about ourselves. So without further adieu-dieu (a high-brow French word meaning, literally, "goodbye doodies") ... let us begin!

We have a dog. Coda is half German shepherd, half pit-bull, all scaredy cat, and yes, her breed dictates that she will disfigure your young ones should they cross her path. Actually, the reputation of her breed falsely precedes her. She is a sweet, medium-size, wonderful companion and we trust that she will be as gentle with children as we trust she will wake us up at 4:00 a.m. and again at 6:00 a.m. every morning to adieu-dieu.

Dan is the sweet, tall, dark, and handsome man in my life. He is a wonderful provider and husband. Yes, he talks a lot in his sleep, including whispering “66666666666” repeatedly in a snakelike hiss, but he really is quite pleasant other than that. He works incredibly hard as a sales manager, and when he is not working or being a great husband, you can find him tickling keys as he writes songs, or burying his face in a book.

I, too, have taken up nocturnal activities. When I am not sleeping or drooling I can be found hallucinating in my sleep. It’s become rather common for a person to climb across my ceiling in the middle of the night, for a hand-sized cockroach to crawl into our dresser drawers, or for Dan to be both in bed with me and standing next to the bed beside me. Not to worry, I am now at the point that I am usually aware I am hallucinating as I do it, and after screaming at Dan to “kill the cockroach!” I often follow up with, “it’s not really there, I know I’m just dreaming.” This can get complicated when I am not sure which Dan to talk to.

By day I work in administration in the entertainment industry, by evening I am my dog’s mom, my husband’s girlfriend, and by night I am apparently the next best thing to Linda Blair. I take writing classes for fun at UCLA and read in my free time, and I am considering applying to Grad School for Creative Writing.

Dan & I have lots of goals to improve our lives and the world around us! We place a great deal of value on health (all kinds), knowledge, responsibility and accountability, balance, security, truth, respect, and preparedness. We want to have a lot of resources so we can give a lot to others. We enjoy developing our talents. We love music. We love learning and growing.

That’s us! Adieu-dieu!

(Credit to Doug Fox for the funny take on adieu-dieu - a high-brow French word meaning, literally, "goodbye doodies")