(Belated) Fall reads.

Reading now:

Things that are winter.

Boston.
Blustery days.
Cold noses.
Breathing just to see your breath.
Wind chill.
Snowmen/snow angels/snowflakes/snow days.
Boots.
Hats and scarves and sweaters.
Stockings hung by the fire with care.
Hot chocolate.
Apple cider.
Cinnamon and nutmeg.

Pine trees and pine tree smells(!)

Advent calendar.
Christmas music.
Christmas lights/Temple lights(!)
Christmas Eve.
Waking up early Christmas morning.

Giving.

Family time.
Eggnog. Silk nog.
Wassail.
Ice skating.
Sledding.
Earlier sunsets.
Earlier bedtimes.
Closed windows.
Heaters turned on.
Blankets upon blankets.
New Years Eve.
New Years Day.
Predictions/resolutions.
The day of my birth.
This scene (painted by Jess Ecker after a winter visit to Boston Common):

Things that are fall.

Boston.
Apples.
Orchards.
Back to school.
Pumpkin pie.
Squash.
Red leaves.
Orange leaves.
Yellow leaves.

Crunch of acorns under foot.

Eating soup again.
Drinking tea again.
Crisp air.
Jack-o-lanterns.

Halloween.

Trick-or-treating.

Caramel apples.
Tallest Man On Earth.

Shorter days.
Longer nights.
Thanksgiving/Friendsgiving.
Turkey.Tofurky.
This picture (drawn by Meggie in Sac. Meeting when we were 19ish):

Small and simple things for which I am really grateful, part II.

As motivated by Joseph B. Wirthlin's sound advice

Meditate for a while on the things for which you really are grateful. Look for them. They don’t have to be grand or glorious. Sometimes we should express our gratitude for the small and simple things like the scent of the rain, the taste of your favorite macaroni and cheese recipe, or the sound of a loved one’s voice. Thinking of things we are grateful for is a healing balm. It helps us get outside ourselves. It changes our focus from our pains and our trials to the abundance of this beautiful world we live in.

• H & P's hospitality (i.e., that I have a place to lay my head and a Volvo to drive, among other things).
• Mint brownies that come in the mailbox. (Thank you, Kaci.)
• Acceptance letters that come in the mailbox. (Thank you, Claremont.)
• Discovering my town possesses a serve yourself frozen yogurt place.
• Blue skies/sunny days.
• Strolls with and without strollers.
• The fall air.
• Community.
• Glee.
• The length of my hair.
• Cartoons and/or children's books while Henry cuddles on my lap.
• Holding Jags as she falls asleep.
• Soup season.
• Tea season (particularly blueberry and raspberry).
• Blankets.
• A visit from my mama. 
• Persian feasts.
• Neko Case, Rilo Kiley, Morgan Handley, The Glendale Rabashaw, etc.
• Occasional skype chats with my favorite Baratta sisters.
• Getting into a sun warmed car.
• That 50 degrees feels cold.
• Mosiah 26:30.
• Barnes & Noble.

(Part I: the 2009 version)

The most beautiful thing/ode/poem that has been written for me.

Written in a g-mail chat sometime in September, after discussing GRE studying and my fear of math. It is the one thing that has brought joy to me in my efforts to tackle that portion. As I take the test on Monday, this has become important.

Jeff: math you beast... you shall be tamed

  your percentages and time tables shall no longer be a mystery

7:29 AM but be known.

 your word problems shall not confuse and disarm but tell what train will get there first or how tall that flag pole really is

7:30 AM math you shall have a bridle placed upon your snout

  and your power shall be a means unto me

7:31 AM I just wrote that

  what did you think?

  do you think Virgil would be proud?

  or ashamed?

7:32 AM glad that he was dead because it was so poor or glad that he was dead so he would not suffer the pangs of being out done?

  the sad thing is... he remains dead

  and nothing but the day of resurrection shall bring him back

  and on that day.... who knows where he'll be

7:33 AM he died just 30 years close to when Christ was born

  almost made it

 but he is still just left of the meridian of time

  

don't worry there is a way for him

  

I feel more coming on

7:34 AM oh math you rambunctious and overambitious and over anxious subject

  you think you hold the planets in orbit and mans foot on the ground?

  I say not

7:35 AM but you are merely a collection of scribbles in the sand

  that the ocean of time will wash away

  you are but a symbol of man's attempt to explain nature

7:36 AM you are a construct of man's thoughts

  not the actual force in play

7:37 AM that makes children cry when their little hand lets go of their balloon filled with helium

  as it floats away--- you should not gloat

  you math... aged sir... had nothing to do with it

7:38 AM you are merely the face book page for the real powers of nature

  what i'm trying to say Rachel is this

  there is no need to fear math

  you've got that math

  you know that math

  math is but a lullaby to you

7:39 AM softly spoken to lull you to sleep

  as you dream of philosophical greatness and where all those philosophical books should be properly placed on the shelves

7:40 AM and what books should be placed on the discard pile to be sold out on the street

7:41 AM where homeless people will buy them to create loft from the pages to keep warm during the cold nights on the park bench

  no no

  fear not the math

  math is but a subject that will work for your good

  so you don't get over charged at the barney's sale

7:42 AM when you buy things at 80% off

  and you realize that you can buy more

  and look more attractive then you already appear

  but I digress

Thank you JLB!

Baby Jags.

Jagger was born on Tuesday. I met her in a ritzy Beverly Hills hospital on Wednesday. (An original Warhol hung outside their room.) P is a perfect mother. I like seeing how happy/tender she is with her babes. Everyone came home on Saturday, which was good news for me as Valencia is boring without them, and good news for them, as hospital rooms are small, and it is generally better to be home. Jags has lots of dark, dark hair, and looks a little like her brother, but in other ways looks more like my brother, and a traditional Hunt baby. Either way, she is pretty pretty, and oh, so very tiny.

Welcome to the world, little one.

This may have been my most adult Halloween.

If adult Halloween means not dressing up, and wearing glasses and pajamas, and passing out candy to tiny trick-or-treaters ringing the doorbell of my suburban home.

At least I had this little lion man to keep me company for part of the night.

Happy thoughts.

(from the last week alone)

• a friend who gifts plane tickets for a (very) early birthday present.
• direct West to East Coast flights.
• DC in the fall.
• the best bed.
• the best sleeping imaginable in said bed.
• little East Coast houses.
• late night talks with Nate including the phrase, "... will help cultivate your Russian soul."
• banana oatmeal cookies.
• ordering exactly the right thing at dinner.
• five year friendship reunions.
• eating pie in bookshop cafes.
• a red tree that was green the day before.
• dresses with pockets.
• hugging Lauren Richey in church parking lots.
• long drives through fall foliage.
• passing the Potomac.
• picnics in parks.
• watching planes fly overhead with Daniel and Brei.
• (everything concerning Daniel and Brei.)
• reading children's books out loud.
• Sunday dinner with Chris and Becca.
• hearing their three year old speak French.
• late night talks with Kristina.
• H picking me up from LAX.  
• being welcomed West with a Persian feast at P's grandma.
• kisses from that grandma.
• a lovely, surprise package from one K.W.
• and so forth.

2010 Halloween Costume Ideas

French existentialist/cliche poet?
Princess Leia
Cowgirl
Cleopatra
Sailor
Amelia Earhart

W-A-S-H-I-N-G-T-O-N, baby, D.C.

Washington, D.C., it's paradise to me

It's not the greenery turning gold in fall

The scenery circling the mall

It's just that's where Kristina lives, that's all

This time tomorrow, I will be there. Hallelujah.

The beauty of the rain is how it falls.

How it falls, how it falls.

Pumpkin Brewster.

I like Sunday nights in October with P. (Her's is on the left. Mine on the right.)

A movie script ending.

Hyrum advised me not to say/fbook/blog too much about it, for fear of jinxing future possibilities, but I will say this: the best screenwriters in the world could not have written a better day for me if they had sat around and asked, "How could we give Rachel Hunt the most awesome day imaginable?"

It was that good.

"and... he was a beautiful butterfly!"

There are few things more beautiful to me than hearing a mother read to her child. I had that privilege quite often when I lived with Lia and Eden, and now have it again with Pegah and Henry. It is precious.

Books that were read to me as a child:

• The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Carle
• There is a Monster at the End of This Book, Stone, Smallin
• Goodnight Moon, Wise Brown
• Where the Wild Things Are, Sendak
• Pierre: A cautionary tale in five chapters and a prologue, Sendak
• Chicken Soup With Rice: a book of months, Sendak
• Mrs. Wishy Washy, Cowley, Fuller
• Amelia Bedelia books, Parish
• The Legend of the Indian Paintbrush, DePaola
• The Polar Express, Van Allsburg
• I Love You Forever, Munsch, McGraw
• Green Eggs and Ham, Seuss
• The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Seuss
• If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Joffe Numeroff, Bond
• Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, Barrett, Barrett
• Miss Nelson is Missing, Allard, Marshall
• Paddington Bear, Bond
• More.

Books that I want to read to my children (in addition to the ones read to me):

• The Little Prince, Saint Exupery
• How Hungry Are you?, Napoli
• Harold and the Purple Crayon, Johnson
• Hope For the Flowers, Paulus
• You Are Special, Lucado
• The Three Questions, Muth
• Love That Dog, Creech.
• I Like You, Chwast
• Dear World, Noda.
• Click Clack Moo, Cronin
• Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!, Willems
• Fancy Nancy books, O'Connor, Preiss Glasser
• Flotsam,Wiesner
• Winnie The Pooh, Milne
• House at Pooh Corner, Milne
• Spoon, Krouse Rosenthal, Magoon
• Alice the Fairy, Shannon
• More.

What books am I missing?

Obsessions.

From the last week alone: Mumford and Sons, The Tallest Man on Earth, the little prince song I posted below, Gabe and Sonya's current musical project, Simply brand juices, particularly orange, checking my temperature, rereading things I have written, writing, unsubscribing to email lists, sleeping.

Le Petit Prince.

In learning my love for The Little Prince, a new friend sent me this video, which he helped make years ago. The song's lyrics are about the prince whose home was on a planet, scarcely as large as a house, and a fox he made for a friend. It is sincerely darling, and I enjoyed watching it immensely.



While there are several lines I like, including, "You could count the flowers here, we've got no time for drinking beer," and, "Like a fox outside the sand, I tame your heart with a quiet hand," I think my favorite line comes from the chorus, "I won't forget to remember I know you," which I imagine is inspired from a line in the book: "It is a sad thing to forget a friend."

The fox is also very beautiful.

Still sick.

+ Hyrum to me this morning, "You sound terrible. I love you, but you sound terrible."

+ Earlier this week to his boss, "My sister looks like she is going to die," which also is to say "terrible," and it was true.

+ My head feels like it weighs one hundred pounds.

+ Each time I try to stand up I feel like I'm going to fall down.

+ I don't have the energy to do even normal things.

+ I just ate chicken for the first time in two years, because it was there, and I was hungry, and couldn't bother making anything.

+ I am out of juice.

+ I was out of kleenex.

+ When I sneeze blood comes out.

When it is October,

I want it to be November.

Not because I am tired of pizza, but because my mom will be here, and baby Jagger will be here.

Today P. had her shower. It was lovely.

Pizza Month: the most wonderful time of year.

As spoken by Mrs. Elizabeth Bevington-Seawright, and as agreed to by me.

For the third year in a row, October will find me eating pizza every day (or nearly every day), as per a combination of National Pizza Month and friend traditions (however East to West coast spread those friendships may be).

First pizza was CPK in Palo Alto with the Gallaghers. Second pizza was at a cheap, nondescript hole near Abby's San Francisco abode. Third pizza was sadly nonexistent as it was Sunday and I was a. unprepared and b. on the road for a majority of the day/night. Fourth, fifth, and sixth pizzas were homemade in Rich family fashion: fresh mozzarella, fresh basil, spinach, tomatos, sauteed onions and garlic, oregeno, already prepared dough, etc. When in line at Trader Joe's purchasing said items, the cashier smiled and asked, "Pizza night?" to which I smiled and answered, "Pizza month." He laughed, but I wasn't joking.

Seventh pizza will likely be from one of the places recommended to me by a new friend, by way of this list:

Happy Pizza!!

On relationship endings.

I am not fond of them. This is true concerning any relationship. Not merely romantic ones.

What I am least fond of is the stark contrast in communication lines—when you go from seeing someone every day, talking to someone every day, to nothing, to silence. You still know things about the other person's life, that are about to happen. You still wonder. You still care. Yet almost aren't allowed to somehow.

Did he get the job he interviewed for? The one you drove him to? Maybe you won't ever find out. So instead you lay in bed watching his favorite movie, and reading the novel he wrote, that has previously been sitting in your inbox, barely opened.

This was me, pretty much all day today.

Chug. Chug. Chug.

(Please sickness, please go away.)

Top 5 movies I have watched recently, that I should have already watched.

1. High Fidelity
2. About a Boy
3. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
4. Rushmore
5. Bottle Rocket

On conference week(end).

It was a strange week. And an adventurous one.

I left my Valencia home Wednesday morning to travel north on I-5—first to Oakland, then to Palo Alto, with trips to San Francisco spread throughout. There were moments (including whole days) that were not quite what I expected them to be, or hoped they could be, but then there were other, subsequent moments (and days), that were more beautiful and inspiring than anything I could have constructed.

In Oakland I watched the movie Hook and played four square in parking lots. In Palo Alto Meg's little brother fed me pizza, and pie, and macaroons, and her mom hugged me and said, "I am happy to see you, whatever the reason." The next day we made guacamole.

I also went to the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival with Ash and Emma, which festival was freezing, but filled with free, beautiful music—including my love Conor Oberst and Gillian Welch—and throngs of equally beautiful concert goers. That evening was pizza, Abby, The Social Network, running into a friend I've had since I was 17, and hanging out at his apartment afterward to say hi to his new roommate, Ruel, whom I also know (though from a different time period).

Sunday morning was conference, brunch with nearly a hundred Stanford kids, and hugs adieu before heading back home. I am mighty glad to be here.

I found myself in San Fran.

I've got nothing to say.

Living by seasons.

In fall I would live in Boston.

In winter I would live in LA.

In spring I would live in DC.

In summer I would live in Portland.

Or maybe Provo.

People I admire and would like to be like.

In general: mostly philosophers and Russian authors, fictional characters, prophets, etc.

In specifics: David Paulsen, James Faulconer, Travis Anderson, Kierkegaard, Levinas, many parts of Nietzsche, Tolstoy, many parts of Dostoevsky, Levin, the Little Prince, Sarah Street, Gordon B. Hinckley, Nibley, Joseph Smith, my paternal grandpa.

More.

Some things make me really glad I am a vegetarian.

Watching Food Inc. for the first time is one of them.

Good night, the moon.

I keep being the kind of tired where it is easier to stay awake doing nothing than it is to take the requisite steps to get ready for bed (brush teeth, take out contacts, wash face, etc.). I am that kind of tired right now.

15 Books.

15 books that changed my life, yadi yadi yada.

1. The Little Prince, St. Exuprey
2. Anna Karenina, Tolstoy
3. The History of Love, Kraus
4. Works of Love, Kierkegaard
5. Fear and Trembling, Kierkegaard
6. The Great Divorce, Lewis
7. The Giver, Lowry
8. The Idiot, Dostoevsky
9. White Nights, Dostoevsky
10. Sofia Petrovna, Chukovskaya
11. East of Eden, Steinbeck
12. The Road, Mccarthy
13. Thus Spake Zarathustra, Nietzsche
14. Totality and Infinity, Levinas
15. Sophie's World, Gaarder

honorable mentions:
Skinny Bitch, Barnouin, Freedman
The Secret Life of Bees, Kidd
Ender's Game, Card
Chronicles of Narnia, Lewis
Siddhartha, Hesse

15 Albums.

15 albums that will stay with me.

1. The First Days of Spring, Noah and the Whale.

2. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Wilco.

3. I'm Wide Awake it's Morning, Bright Eyes.

4. 69 Love Songs, Magnetic Fields.

5. Hard Candy, Counting Crows.

6. Gold, Ryan Adams.

7. Heartbreaker, Ryan Adams.

8. Transatlanticism, Death Cab For Cutie.

9. Five Ghosts and the Seance, Stars.

10. Louder than Bombs, The Smiths.

11. An End Has a Start, Editors.

12. God Help the Girl, God Help the Girl.

13. Reservoir, Fanfarlo.

14. Re-arrange Us, Mates of State.

15. Antics, Interpol.

honorable mentions:
August and Everything After. Counting Crows.

Nashville Skyline, Bob Dylan.

Cardinology, Ryan Adams and the Cardinals.

Bless You Friend, The Glendale Rabashaw.

Where the Wild Things Are, Karen O. and the Kids.

Umberto Ecco, Lists, and Meta Lists.

Italian novelist, Umberto Eco, said:

The list is the origin of culture. It's part of the history of art and literature. What does culture want? To make infinity comprehensible. It also wants to create order—not always, but often. And how, as a human being, does one face infinity? How does one attempt to grasp the incomprehensible? Through lists, through catalogs, through collections in museums and through encyclopedias and dictionaries... We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death. That's why we like all the things that we assume have no limits and, therefore, no end. It's a way of escaping thoughts about death. We like lists because we don't want to die.

Perhaps we also like lists because we want to live. Perhaps I like lists because I want to live. And like them I do. I have liked lists for as long as I can remember, into the time that I can't.

• I like the way they simultaneously help us order our world, and open our world to us in a new way.
• I like how easy they are—that they don't require complete sentences, paragraphs, or thoughts.
• I like how they help us keep track of things, and remember things, and accomplish things we may not have been as likely to check off otherwise.
• I like how in narrowing in on certain details we forget others. The revealing/concealing of it.
• I like how clean they are, and how concise.
• I like that they may also be long, and that they can get longer.
• I like their dynamic nature in general—that something may always be added or taken away.
• I like that their topics range from the pedestrian to the profound.
• I like their form.

Lists I am considering making:

1. 15 albums that will stay with me.

2. 15 books that have changed my life.

3. People I admire and would like to be like.
4. Things I would like to accomplish in my life.
5. Books that I read as a child.
6. Books that I will read to my children.
7. Books that I want to read.

8. Books that have made me cry while riding airplanes.

9. Books that have made me laugh while riding airplanes.

10. The happiest moments I can remember.
11. What I have wanted to be.
12. What I miss.

13. What I don't miss.

14. Things I have lost.

15. My favorite smells.
16. Things that make me feel safe.
17. Places I would like to visit.

18. Things I can't do, or can't do well.

19. Things I am good at.

20. Celebrity crushes, mine.
etc.

In Retrospect.

After noticing an abundance of unfinished blog posts, I decided to go back and publish several saved drafts. Consequently, if you ever wanted to know what was on my mind August 21, August 11th, May 22nd, May 3rd, April 20th, April 19th, February 1st, or December 7th, now is your chance.

By title:

• What is on my mind?
• I have been gone too long.
• Yesterday I had a bad day.
• So this is what passes as grad school.
• The 'UP' house is in my neighborhood.
• Homesick, cause I no longer know what home is.
• Once upon a time this arrived in my mailbox.
• Playing House, pt. 2
• Playing House, pt. 1

Mission Accomplished.

Some days my single greatest responsibility is to purchase $20 of chocolate for my very pregnant sister-in-law, to which task I can answer, "Done and done."

I fear. I believe.

My friend Elizabeth once attended a discussion night of sorts, where everyone stood in two lines. Each person took turns, going to the front of those lines. There they said things they believe, and things that they are scared of. When others agreed, they would move to the opposite side of the room. The imagery is beautiful to me, and was to her as she shared in this solidarity and witnessed that she was neither alone in her fears nor her beliefs. Inspired by my friend, I present my own list.

(Sometimes) I fear that I may be living my life wrong.

I fear that I may be a bad librarian.

I fear that the only thing I know how to do well is be a student.

I fear that it will take me a long, long time to get a job.

I fear decisions.

I fear endings.

I fear that I won't ever love someone as strongly as I loved the last person I loved.

I believe in kindness.

I believe in Heavenly Mother.

I believe in truth.

I believe in prayer.

I believe in 8 glasses of water a day.

I believe in fruits and vegetables.

I believe in color.

I believe in spring.

I believe in babies.

I believe in biking, running, dancing, etc.

I believe in planting gardens.

I believe in the power of words.

I believe that people may change. That I may change.

I believe that there is nothing that the road cannot heal.

I believe that there is no place like home.

I believe in happy endings.

I like this.

If I were Peter Pan...

D.C., Kristina, and October 21st would be my happy thoughts.

My nephew only speaks Farsi.

Truth/semi-truth. He does say "mama" and "dada," but everything else I've heard him say stems from his half Persian roots. Consequently, I am learning Farsi too, one word or phrase at a time.

Things I can say:

food

milk

give me a kiss

come here

bird

dog

Yesterday for the first time in my life I was grateful for East to West Coast time differences.

It was one of those nights where you couldn't sleep and needed to talk, but didn't know who you could talk to—who would be awake. And then you remembered: the person you trusted the very most in the world lives in New York when you live in California, making your 2:30 in the morning his 5:30. And lucky for you this individual wakes up extraordinarily early. So you could talk. For 1 hour and 41 seconds before he had to get ready for work. And you are safe.

Marching Bands of California.

The other morning I woke up to sounds of the local high school's marching band. It was not that awesome, as it was a. significantly earlier than I planned on waking, and b. confusing. It happened once my first week here as well. That time in my half conscious state I remember thinking I was dreaming of a marching band. When I awoke fully it dawned on me that I now live by a school, and that it probably really was a band. Later I asked my brother, and sure enough. This time in my semi conscious state I kept thinking, "Why is Hyrum playing the drums this early? Why did he set up the drums in the garage? He has to go to work. He's expected in court this morning... etc., etc." I was thoroughly perplexed. Now I wonder if every time it happens my subconscious will find some new way to explain the sounds streaming through my bedroom window. It seems possible.

Words I like/words I love.

quaff

quiescent

specious

mendacity

salubrious

mercurial

You learn something new everyday.

Sometimes I even learn two new things a day. For instance, today I learned that Interpol has a new album out, and that their bassist quit after recording it.

I am listening now.

My brother cares about my safety.

Approximately once a day, some form of the following conversation takes place:

Hyrum: Where are you going?

Me: Running. (Walking. Dancing. Movie watching. Etc. Etc.)

Hyrum: Okay. Be safe. (Very occasionally: Okay. Be careful.)

It has been a long time since I've lived in a situation where someone I resided with felt responsible for me in this way. There is something comforting about it, to know there will be a light left on for me. Following the one night last week where I actually was out with friends until a very late hour (or very early hour, depending), he and my sister-in-law both related that the first thing they did upon waking was to peek out the window to see if the Volvo and (by extension) I, had made it home. It is sweet, really.

I am still trying to get used to my new life.

On one hand, I have become so domestic. I go to sleep at respectable hours and wake up at (relatively) respectable hours. I change diapers. I read children's stories. I occasionally find baby drool on my clothes. The two songs stuck in my head right now are from Yo Gabba Gabba. My social interactions revolve around my brother and sister-in-law. Etc.

On the other hand, last week I drove a Camaro and Lexus, just to go get food.

It still seems funny to me.

Two best friends.

We are tied together by our mutual love for: teenage books, porches, homemade pizza, pajamas, party cake ice cream, Community, ocean swimming, empathy, Kierkegaard, Indigo Girls, Sarah Street, Katie Baratta, and so forth.

(I miss him. I miss him. I miss him.)

My name is Rachel. I like to dance.

(I also like Yo Gabba Gabba. And watching it with Henry and Hyrum on an otherwise tired Thursday.)

When the cats are away, the mouse will...

• swim twice a day.
• tan by the poolside.
• read by the poolside.
• go on multiple walks/runs.
• go to Trader Joe's.
• make homemade guacamole.
• proceed to eat homemade guacamole for every meal.
• brave the freeway/crazy LA traffic twice.
• visit her grandma.
• nap.
• try to find Anthropologie.
• get profoundly lost/scared.
• cry.
• somehow make it home.
• listen to Arcade Fire's Suburbs on repeat.
• go to church alone.
• wish she had friends here.
• wish the cats would come back.

Awesome-town is a whole lot more awesome when H & P are present. Utah, please return them.

What is on my mind?

This poem. This poem is on my mind.

My new everything.

My new home:

My new house:

My new housemates:

My new Volvo:

My new swimming hole:

My new dress:

My new(est) album purchase:

Wedding Weekend.

(From the camera of miss J. Ecker.)