Tuesday, December 29, 2009

The perks of desert living.

The cold is not a piercing cold.
Straightened hair stays straight.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Dear everyone,

I haven't written for awhile. I am sorry. I have been tired, and a little bit busy--attending book readings, crafting papers, preparing presentations, other general finishing of my term, playing nanny, meeting Danny Ainge, visiting New York, flying across the country, and eating pizza.

Of my fall semester the truest thing I can say is that it was hard. The second truest thing I can say is that it was good: I liked my classes, my program, and my classmates.

Now after boarding a plane, and being in far too many cities in one day, I am in Provo, and have been for a little while. I am currently sitting on a couch in my family's home, where there is a picture of me in a frame, in the entry way, and where a 3 year old girl runs down the stairs in the morning yelling my name.

Since my return, my sister Charity has called me Pocahontas, my niece Eden has called me Charity, I've read 3 1/2 books, watched 2 movies, seen a small handful of friends, failed to settle Catan, had numerous kitchen and living room dance parties with my sisters/niece, admired the lights at Temple Square (though I was cold and maybe hungry), remembered that the Broadway is my favorite movie theater in all of the US and that Ritter Sport Marzipan is my favorite candy in all of the world, watched more sports in a single night than I watched in an entire year (Go Cougs/Lakers!), passed my 3 year mark home from my mission, and delivered cookies/Christmas caroled with my family.

I can feel how good it is to be here.


Wednesday, December 9, 2009


I went to bed at 4:30 am today, then woke up at 9:00 am today. I ate cereal today. I drank raspberry tea today. I finished an 18 page paper today. I am wearing my glasses today. I walked through wind and slush today. I took a taxi to school today. I am sitting in class today. I gave a 15 minute speech today. I ate vegan pizza today. I might get a hair cut today. I want to sleep today. Blah Blah Blah today.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Playing House, pt. 2

A very few of the darling conversations, recorded for posterity:

C (girl, age 2): Rachel?

Me: Yes, Courtney?

C: Penguins are better than ducks.

Me: Okay, Courtney.

S (girl, age 4): That's a fishy face. That's a kissy face. That's a grumpy face. That's a ghost face. That's a black ghost face. Thats a closing book face.

C: That's Sidney's water bottle. That's my water bottle. If Sidney drinks from mine, she'll get germs in it.

C: That plate is for Santa's cookies, but Santa's not real.

A (boy, age 7): (At the office). Oh, I just sit around and watch the news.

Me: Which news?

A: They're trying to wreck a car. That's the bad news. The good news is the president is getting married.

Me: I really love that book.

A (said totally sincerely): Are you going to marry the book?

Me: No. I want to marry a boy. Not a book.

A: You can always ask Santa for it for Christmas.

Me (unspoken): A boy or a book?

Playing house, pt. 1

For the second time this year, I spent three consecutive days and nights house/baby sitting for my friend Kristina's sister. The experience made me want children both more and less.

Playtime at the park.
A child sitting in my lap.
Bedtime stories.
Prayer time.
General tucking in time.
Riding little bikes in basements.
Tender feelings from reading The Giving Tree.
Watching Harry Potter together and eating Pirate's Booty.
The magic of witnessing three children walk out into first snow.
Darling conversation after darling conversation.

Getting everyone in socks and shoes.
Getting everyone in coats/sweaters.
Getting everyone out the door.
Getting anyone to eat.
Getting anyone to eat the same thing.
Driving on unknown roads while three little ones and an annoying GPS voice simultaneously clamored for my attention.
Getting three children fed, bathed, and dressed for church by myself.
Subsequently sitting with those children in sacrament by myself.

Still, with these pictures in mind, I think the "mores" have it.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Fall reads, pt. 2.

Reading now:

Friday, November 27, 2009


"slash" (often used multiple times in the same sentence)
"maybe" (said next to definite statements, e.g., "I miss you, maybe")
"may or may not be true"
"-ish" (used to qualify anything)
"p.s." (said after, or as a statement)
"by the way" (said after, or as a statement)
"fun and funny"
"thank you in advance"
"not that awesome" (said of things I dislike)
a specific head nod with a specific facial expression

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Small and simple things for which I am really grateful.

  • Kindnesses upon kindnesses, from professors, from classmates, from family, from friends.
  • A line from a book, "Everything is possible again."
  • Another line from the same book, "If nothing matters, there's nothing to save."
  • That God speaks to us in ways that we understand.
  • Skype, and a 3 year old girl on the other end who knows my name and calls me aunt.
  • Facebook and gmail and blogs.
  • That it is not yet a terrible prospect to go outside/that it is not yet unbearably cold out.
  • Scarves and hats and sweaters.
  • My bicycle.
  • Pizza.
  • Having school classes I don't hate.
  • Living in a city I am learning to love more all of the time.
  • The (actual) color purple.
  • The book The Little Prince.
  • Priesthood blessings.
  • Music shows.
  • Trader Joe's.
  • Maps.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Bad Poetry.

A few weekends ago Q and C had a party to warm their home. A game was played, that could conceivably have been lame, but wasn't. Each person had pen and paper in hand and jotted down the name of a (made-up) poem. These papers were folded and placed in a basket, then redistributed to the waiting masses. Each person then unfolded their new piece of paper and wrote a poem corresponding to the given title. Again papers were folded and returned to the basket. One by one a paper was drawn and a poem was performed, often with great spectacle. Below is a sampling of our poetry (graciously transcribed by Elizabeth):

"Death and Rumpelstiltskin"
Spin that scythe into gold baby!
The little man is coming for you.

"True Messengers"
True messengers
stab you in the
post haste
make waste
true messengers
could never have been
more so.

ps God bless you Al Gore
thank you for your global
warming beard & the interwebs.

"An Ode to Underage Love"
Movies and classes and
a few friends with cars
take a pre-sexed mind,
leaving its masses
and other masses wanting
another's masses of
the corporeal kind.
It's a beginning of a
goddamn odyssey

one, two where do I go from here
do I fall off a cliff
do I start a new riff
to fly up a stream
dream a new dream
wishing to be free
or just count to three

"Mama'll Make it Better"
whenever i'm in dire need
mama makes it better
if it's cold and I start to freeze
mama brings me a sweater
but last winter mama died
all last winter i stayed inside
i sat at home all day and cried
mama can't make this better. :( [emoticon in original]

"Molecule Mania Hit West Philadelphia"
molecule mania hit west philadelphia
jack kerouac hit west philadelphia.
all his friends were there.
friend 1. friend 2. friend 3.
they drank coffee in donut shops
and ate donuts in coffee shops.
and wrote whatever words fell from their pen.

"Bareheaded Conquerer"
the bareheaded conquerer conquered
everything. conquered nothing.
who said a conquerer needs a
headdress? or a turban? or a tiara?
not this conquerer.
to the victor goes the spoils.

"I Still Believe in What has Fallen Apart"
I still believe in what has fallen apart,
but that shit don't believe in me.
–Get up! Put your ass back together!
–What are You talkin' about!
I don't know. I'm just talking.
But I'm hoping things work out.

Monday, November 16, 2009

In one month's time.

This semester will be behind me and home will be ahead.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Catalog la Seawright.

I love this card catalog.

And this fortune.

From this bag. From the night Max and I visited Betty at the open house.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Right now.

I may or may not be writing a paper on awards given to romance fiction, particularly young adult romance fiction. I also may or may not be thinking about how much I hate group projects.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Blind Side.

Tonight Quinn, Courtney, and I watched this movie, before our weekly dinner at Spikes. It was so, so good. That is the truest thing I can say. And also that Sandra Bullock was impressive, and it was sweet, and funny, and sometimes sad, and almost always tear inducing, but generally in really inspiring ways. I think we all left the theater wanting to be kinder. I left wanting to be kinder.

It has also been an amazing thing to have these friends in Boston. I knew them before, for years even. Still, there is something to be said for the closeness and knowledge that comes in riding trains together, standing in lines, and sitting in movie theaters before a film begins.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Last week.

1. The Saturday before last I dressed as a librarian for a pre Halloween party, which is admittedly two parts nerdy, one part awesome.
2. Later my library school friend asked incredulously, "You went as yourself?" I could only answer, "Yes. Yes I did."
3. Last Monday I had a boring class, but a good hallway/lobby conversation after that boring class.
4. Last Tuesday there was nothing to write home about.
5. Last Wednesday I watched a premier of Gentleman Broncos with Courtney and Quinn. It was funny enough.
6. Following, Jared Hess did a question and answer session, which was more than funny enough, particularly in its revelations of ridiculous real life experiences inspiring certain scenes, and his descriptions of Utah and Idaho to people in my current city.
7. I was also introduced to Spikes where I ate a decent (veggie) hot dog, made even better by good tunes and good company.
8. Last Thursday, Max and I went to Cambridge Public Library's open house. There were so many smiling people of varying ages. I liked it.
9. On the way out Betty gave us red tote bags bearing the library's logo.
10. They held a chocolate dipped fortune cookie with the fortune, "All of your questions will be answered in the new library."
11. Last Friday I heard E. Ballard speak in a beautiful Boston church.
12. Last Saturday I traveled to NY.
13. That Halloween nighttime I was a mime.
14. It rained on our parade, making my friends and I cold and wet. But it was still (kind of) fun.
15. In the midst of this, Chris, Tyler, and I wandered NY City streets through NY City crowds for over an hour searching for a restroom.
16. McDonalds was ultimately our salvation.
17. Last Sunday was Mormon church, a game of MASH, stairwells, scraped knees and hands, shared laughter, and picture taking.
18. This day I came back to Boston, which bus ride helped me finish my third book in three days.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Pizza month.

The tradition began last November, when my friends Max and Elizabeth had a dream, a dream of eating pizza every day for an entire month. They made their dream a reality, and while I wasn't a full participant, I did join them for a lot of pizza, and discussions about pizza.

They decided to move this year's Pizza Month to October, a. to align it with Official Pizza Month, and b. because that month fell sooner, and they love their pizza.

I chose to join them in this delicious undertaking, as did our friends Quinn and Courtney. The rule is simple: pizza every day, at least once a day, for the month of October. I have been following the afore mentioned rule for the last 29 days, and will follow it for two more. It has been a fine mix of homemade, Zing Pizza, Veggie Planet, and Trader Joe's. I am not tired of this pizza eating. To the contrary, it is still what I want to eat, generally more than any other food. And while National Pizza Month may end, thankfully eating pizza will not.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Fall reads.

Reading now:

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Things I love more than sleep.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
White Rabbits music show.
Robot pictures.
Internet friends.
Sarah Street.
Matching yawns.
Jamaica Plain.
Where the Wild Things Are.
Singing loudly to Indigo Girls.
Singing loudly to Dar Williams.
Homemade pizza.
Secret meetings.
Seven second hugs.
The phrase: "That's not what Kant says."
The phrase: "I soured on Hegel in my second year."
Contraband literature.
Passing notes.
Umbrella sharing.
First snow.
Walks in that first snow.
Private cello concerts.
Cookies made by Beth.
Dreams of journal clubs.
This last weekend.

Quiet place.

Bapst is my refuge.

Friday, October 16, 2009


1. I have been vegetarian for exactly one year.
2. Within that year the longest I have gone without candy is two weeks.
3. I am not fond of fall's recently bordering on winter temperatures.
4. They already make me want to stay in as much as possible, and make it infinitely harder for me to leave my bed and/or house.
5. I am trying my best to combat these feeling by putting as many warm things inside of me as possible (think herbal tea and soup) and by putting as many warm things on me as possible (think scarves and caps and sweaters).
6. It is a little bit working.
7. I have eaten pizza every day since the 1st of October for pizza month.
8. For some reason this reminds me of undergrad and Club PB & J with Spencer and Davis, where our motto was "I eat PB & J all day everyday."
9. It also reminds me of other things I do in my life on repeat.
10. My publishing class was guest lectured this week by 2007's Hottest Man in Children's Literature, Scott Magoon.
11. He is still handsome in 2009, and the art director of Houghton Mifflin's children's department as well as an illustrator on the side.
12. After class I went to the Coop where I judged books by their cover. Or at least their design, per an assignment.
13. My favorite designed book was called Three Questions.
14. I once spent an entire summer reading nothing but Kierkegaard and feminist theology, and am now spending an entire fall reading almost nothing but young adult literature.
15. For the latter reason I am pretty sure my local librarians must either think I am 16 or ridiculous.
16. I wasn't really bothered by this until I had to read Gossip Girl.
17. That day I felt utter shame, as well as a strong urge to explain myself by muttering something like, "I'm really smart, I read philosophy..." But I remained quiet.
18. Yesterday I stayed up all hours of the night to finish The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It was simple, and sad, and happy all at the same time, which made for a very beautiful, tear inducing book.


There is someone that I think about everyday, but can't tell. It is a strange feeling.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

On friendship.

This last weekend Hediyeh and Pete came from New York, and Lia Kim came from New Haven. It was nice simply to be with them, regardless of what we were doing. This was true even when we did very little--a walk here, a feast of grilled cheese and tomato soup there. Most of our time was spent talking, and also listening. Ofttimes the wind blew strongly in the background. Still, in those conversations I was reminded just how much I love being with people who have known me the length of time that these friends have. There is something so comforting in the depth and steadiness of relationships spanning years.

Then on Monday I basked in the glory of all that is Katie, and was deeply and irrevocably reminded of the beauty of new friendships--or newer friendships--and found myself amazed at the way nascent relationships may feel like they have spanned years. While previously camping in New Hampshire together, just minutes before falling asleep, Katie told me that friendship is "laughing and crying and thinking." I am convinced that she is right, and we have been all of those things for each other, and will continue to be so, thus providing the same sense of steadiness and depth. Thankfully Monday was a laughing day (and maybe a thinking day) where we could just make food and lay in my room on our respective computers for hours, warm and full and happy.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Tyson's band.

Today I learned Arson Car's afore pictured ep, Vestiges, is available on itunes. It was a nice discovery. Namely because its good, but also because the singer is important to me. Like a brother. I saw him every day of my life before moving to Boston, and he is one of the people I missed the very most after getting here. Now he is in England studying sort of the same thing I am studying, which is nice too, because his desire to go (as well as his previous desires) helped him understand my own dilemma of library school over law school perfectly. He also sent me this encouraging article a very long time ago. Thank you, T.H.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Critical Mass Boston.

This happened awhile ago. In fact, the last Friday of the last month ago. I don't even really remember quite what I wanted to say, except that it was lovely, and exhilarating, and I could not stop smiling. It also did so much to raise Boston in my estimation--something about seeing downtown in a more personal way, and basking in the camaraderie of fellow bikers. My friend went the previous month and told me that the people were the same as the people in Provo, with slightly different faces and different names. He was right. Or mostly right. Provo Critical Mass has more girls.

There were a plethora of skinny jeans and plaid shirts, bikes with bells, bikes with bubble machines, bikes hooked up to music players, etc., as well as an impressive biker who drummed the entire time. There were also cries of "Whose streets? Our streets," "Two wheels good, four wheels bad" (said to a motorcyclist), encouraging honks and cheers, not-so-encouraging honks and cheers, and questions from curious passerbys wondering what our bike ride was for (as if critical mass has to be for something). I liked one boy's answer: "For FUN!"

True. So true.

Saturday, October 10, 2009


Actually sleep.
Eat more real food than candy.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

All Good Books.

A dear friend gave me this book list when I was 19. It has had greater influence on me and the way I see the world than any other single sheet of paper. It was by its recommendation that I mustered enough literary courage/stamina to tackle Dostoevsky and Tolstoy, and that I was first introduced to Saint-Exupery's Little Prince, as well as nearly every other book I have loved the most in my life. Thank you, Chris Wallace.

I will be grateful forever.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009


When I was in middle and high school and could choose what I would speak on I always chose high jumping. Now that I am in grad school I choose existentialism, Russian literature, and children's books.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Yesterday was my bf, Meagan's birthday.

She helped to make this video. It is good.

Typophile Film Festival 5 Opening Titles from Brent Barson on Vimeo.

I love him even more for this.

“Of all the wonderful buildings that we have on this campus, none, I believe, is as important as the library. A library is the very heart and substance of a university. Without access of vast quantities of information, neither faculty nor student can do an accurate job. It is the foundation of research. It is the source of information, both old and new. It is a place for the ever-present challenge to dig for knowledge beyond that which is given in the classroom.” -Gordon B. Hinckley

Oh, and also, I miss him.

Sunday, October 4, 2009


Today was a quiet, stay inside and listen to the rain, write in my journal and read young adult novels kind of day. It was also a lay in bed, watching conference in pajamas day--which are some of my favorite days.

Tonight Katie fed me, and gave me two things: a fairy wand that she made herself, and the soundtrack to Mary Poppins. So, so cute.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Our Autumnal Equinox.

Spring we jumped over flames while miss Klemm played a pan flute. Summer we danced along the esplanade with abandon, chanting our gratitude and longing for summer's sun and its silent promise of a return to warmth. Fall was more somber. Perhaps rightly so. Perhaps different seasons require different ceremonies. And so we found ourselves on summer's dock, sitting in a circle, enclosing a single pumpkin candle. Each person expressed gratitude for one thing: Katie for water cycles, Austin for the great poets, Julia for circles and their inclusiveness, Jared for his ears and the joy of sound, me for kindness and sincerity, others for still more. Next we shared poems, or scriptures, or drawings signifying what autumn means to us. There was a lot of talk about harvests and preparing for winter, but also about returning to the center of ourselves, and handling this transition with solace. Elizabeth made an interesting point that while winter and summer are steady--you look out the window and things look the same from day to day--fall and spring are somewhat transitory. And it is true. We stood at the water's edge with a pistachio in hand. Katie asked us to reflect on our last year, and those aspects we wished to preserve and internalize, as well as those aspects we wished to discard, before we placed the meat portion in our mouth and cast the shell aside. The symbolism was simple, but meaningful. There was still chanting, and even jumping over the solitary flame (just for good measure), but it was quieter, less complex. The chanting grew softer instead of louder, and our leap was not backed by flute.

I am still a little afraid of winter.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Saint-Exupery and his little prince.

(For Erin and Rachel.)
  • Saint-Exupery was born in Lyon, France in 1900.
  • Flying was his earliest ambition.
  • He was not the most studious of children and failed the examination that would have allowed him to enter the French naval academy, so instead studied architecture at a renowned art school before joining the military in 1921.
  • It was in the military that he first learned how to pilot.
  • He had to give it up for a time to appease his then-fiance's father, who believed it was too dangerous of a career.
  • When the relationship fell apart he returned to the air, this time to carry mail to distant lands.
  • At the Parisian home of a distant relative, Proust, the secretary of a French magazine asked him to write something. He did so.
  • It was a short story, largely autobiographical in nature about a pilot who became depressed each time he left his plane.
  • It was published in the April edition of that year, and was met with success and also surprise.
  • From that time forth Saint-Exupery continued to write about aviation.
  • Other pilots became distrustful of him, and felt like he was betraying secrets they didn't know they had.
  • He was not always the most careful flyer, and had some very serious accidents, many of which were his own fault.
  • In 1935 he crashed in the Libyan desert. He and his copilot wandered for three days without water and suffered many hallucinations before being rescued and given a native restorative treatment.
  • In 1938 a crash put him in a coma for several days, fractured his skull in seven places, and almost robbed him of an arm.
  • Shortly thereafter he moved to New York with his wife--to heal, and also to escape German occupied France.
  • His American publishers were also influential in this move: they got his visa, booked his boat ride, found him a flat overlooking Central Park, and commissioned him to write a book on his philosophy of the war, which they hoped would explain French defeatism to an American audience who didn't understand.
  • The book, Flight to Arras, originally received approval by the Germans, but that approval was quickly rescinded.
  • Around this time Saint-Ex began work on The Little Prince.
  • A story suggests that one of his publishers caught him drawing a small child on his table cloth and asked who it was. He answered, "Nothing much. It is the child in my heart." The publisher then requested he write the tale of this child.
  • Another proposes it was the wife of the publisher, who wanted him to write a fairy tale before that coming Christmas.
  • Still another story says Saint-Ex was sitting on the idea for seven years or so, and that he received further inspiration by hearing Hans Christian Anderson's The Little Mermaid while lying in a hospital bed in New York. This version also mentions the gift of a watercolor set received around the same time.
  • Whatever its inception, The Little Prince was written during the course of a summer and most of a fall, almost entirely at nighttime, on a diet of coffee and cigarettes.
  • He frequently called his friends during all hours of that nighttime to discuss what he had just written.
  • He also employed their services for his illustrations. "The son of philosopher De Konnick supposedly served as the model for certain poses. Sylvia Reinhardt's boxer dog for the tiger, and a friend's poodle provided the inspiration for the drawing of the famous sheep," and so forth.
  • It came out April 6, 1943 in both French and English and was given a lot of press from the New York Times.
  • People were not quite sure what to make of it. It was so different than what he'd written before, and it was unclear whether it was a fable for children or adults.
  • The aviator-turned-poet died just one year later on July 31, 1944 while on a reconnaissance mission for the allies. He was 8 years older than the standard age limit for pilots at that time.
  • An unsent letter was found in his barracks: "I do not care if I die in the war...but if I come back alive...there will be only one question for me: What can one say to mankind? What does one have to say to mankind?"
  • It is estimated that over 80 million copies of The Little Prince have been sold worldwide. Another claim states that it "is the best best-selling book after the Bible and Karl Marx's Das Kapital."
  • The Little Prince has been translated into over 210 different languages and dialects, including Latin.
  • First edition prints generally range from $2,000-$20,000.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Fall is here. Hear the yell.

Back to school. Ring the bell.
1. I love fall temperatures.
2. Its accompanying brisk air makes me want to be outside as much as possible.
3. The leaves are already starting to change colors. For instance, a few days ago I passed a red tree while riding my bicycle. It was beautiful.
4. Sometimes I forget I have a bike here and walked 20 miles in 3 days.
5. I still like the crunch of acorns under foot.
6. I am genuinely happy to be in Boston.
7. Classes have been back in session for 3 weeks.
8. I have never felt better about school in my entire life.
9. My professors are both kind and competent.
10. The first point is extremely important to me, and has more influence on whether I like a class than anything else, likely because I am tender.
11. I finished an amazing YA novel. Uglies. For a class, but also for fun.
12. On Wednesdays I want to be a publisher.
13. I am learning about Saint-Exupéry and the first publication of The Little Prince. It is fascinating.
14. I went camping in New Hampshire. It was pretty, but cold.
15. There Austin recited Russian poetry on a canoe ride under the stars.
16. I saw Hyrum's favorite living singer. So, so good. Unbelievable.
17. I consequently heart Mark Lanegan, and his voice, and Revival.
18. I am sleeping so strange at night.
19. I always want to be the same thing for Halloween.
20. Boston Critical Mass is better than sliced bread.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Picking apples, making pies.

Yesterday day was fall time bliss in all its forms: gold leaves, orange leaves, red leaves, taking the scenic route, Northborough, Cambridge friends, apple orchards, apple cider, apple donuts, apple pie, apple everything, as well as hay rides, smiling children (including baby Søren), pumpkin patches, and freshly made kettle corn. Delicious. To wrap up this perfection, yesterday night was the RS broad cast and a night bike ride to and from Belmont with Katie, which inspired me to say, "Assuming we don't die, this will have been a really good idea," and inspired Katie to answer that she likes any sentence that begins that way. Thank you, New England for being so lovely.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

One year.

I've been in Boston for over one year. I still remember so many things about that August 28, 2008 moving day, for instance that I ate breakfast with Lia and Becca at Guru's, but could hardly eat from scared feelings, then later sat with Becca in the basement of the HFAC, in her film lab. We both cried. At the Salt Lake Airport my mom asked me if I was making the right decision. I could only shake my head and tell her that I didn't know, but hoped so. And I did. I still do. A blog post written by my friend Chaunté reflecting on her own East Coast year mark inspired me to look at the things I've gained and the things I've lost.

The gains: An old New England home. A city that (graciously) feels like a town. That same city that does a good job living with its history. Museums. Trees. The Ocean. Dessert First Adventure Club. Outstitute. A new bicycle. An understanding of the value of one friend. An even deeper love for the Seawrights. A month of pizza. Vegan feasts and rooftop views. Trader Joes. Whole Foods. $15 bus rides to New York. A plethora of visitors. Classrooms primarily populated by women. Homework assignments that are largely practical and geared toward a real profession. Solstice/equinox celebrations that are nothing short of magical. Katie, Lisa, Ju, and Brian (among others).

The losses: A community of friends a short bike ride away. Doing the same things over and over (bike rides, music shows, art shows, dance parties). Living with people I deeply trust and care about. My little yellow house. Eden. Mountains. The campus that I came to love. Having professors who knew my name. Philosophy (which loss feels like a loss). Discussion Nights. Various clubs founded by Leland (Hot Chocolate Club, Churro Club, etc.). Daily trips to Smith's. Sunday dinners. Provo's first Friday of every month. The ability to easily straighten my hair. Meat, eggs, and most dairy products.

And like Chaunté, I wonder (and hope) that it was worth it.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Last fall I watched my skin turn pale in the mirror.

This year it is starting pale.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Come monday night we're in a state of grace.

Baby you would sleep much better. Maybe you would sleep much better.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

What I did on my summer vacation. By Rachel Hunt.

Nannied three blonde haired children for a few days, and in doing so drove a mini van, made meals, packed school lunches, read bedtime stories, took the little boy to baseball practice and school, the middle girl to ballet, and the littlest girl to story time at the local library, etc. Wore my rain boots/had reason to wear my rain boots, more than anyone should have to in a summertime. Played tourist in my own town. Entertained visitors/at other times was a visitor. Rejuvenated an old favorite pastime of bedroom dance parties. Realized I like Boston more than New York. Slept on my third story roof. Was scared I'd fall off of said roof. Watched numerous sunsets and one sunrise. Rode a carousel. Picnicked. Swam in Walden Pond in the daytime. Swam in Walden Pond in the nighttime. Attended a few great music shows and one terrible music show. Read in Central Park. Read in Boston Common. Listened to records on front porches. Had discussions about philosophy and love on front porches. Lived on the river trail the first time I was home. Lived on my bike the first time I was home. Made weird, but maybe funny movies with my sister. Started running again. Stopped running again. Attended a good philosophy conference. Played a lot of scrabble. Lit a lot of sparklers. Traversed time zones. Read 15 books. Made a few new friends. Lost one friend (which point still makes me sad). Took a class that actually made me like library science. Went on a good field trip as part of that class. Gave a speech on existentialism, and another on Tolstoy/rekindled my love for Tolstoy. Turned in a 30 page project. Planted a garden. Took many, many evening strolls. Enjoyed the night air on those strolls and in general. Mourned the deaths of my aunt and high jump coach, respectively. Appreciated the offerings of farmer's markets in three states. Had sleepovers with Jessica in three states. Fell in love with the movie (500) Days of Summer. Fell in love with another movie called Two Lovers that is based on my favorite story by Dostoesky. Practically lived off of cherries and blueberries. Learned how to make vegan cupcakes. Ate a lot of gelato. Made conscious efforts to write in my journal. Swam in the Atlantic. Swam in the Pacific. Slept on the beach on the Pacific. Made fresh lemonade every day for a long while. Ate pizza and ice cream every day for a week. Began having more dreams than I have ever had and would wake up actually semi remembering them (including one featuring Aristotle and another where my first thought upon waking was, "The dilemma of determinism is..."). Got burnt out on museums. Later met a nice boy in a museum. Discovered my sister in law likes bikes. Held Henry. Loved Henry, and later Emmett, my second nephew who was not even in existence pre summer. Went to Disneyland for the second time this year. Was tutored in pinball to little avail. Tasted my first fig. In Provo actually slept. Woke up at 5ish on Labor Day to watch air balloons lift off the ground, and was glad I did. Spent time in Mass. in Wayland, Lowell, Wrentham, and the Berkshires, traveled to NYC three times, Utah twice, and Oregon, Nevada, Rhode Island, DC, California, and Colorado once each.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Late Summer Reads

Reading now: