New York, I love you, but you are bringing me down.

For more reasons than I can say, both parts of this song are true for me. Again. Again. Again.

My future.

I don't know what I was expecting, but when we walked into the psychics, we were greeted by two animal skin rugs, one older woman (still attractive), one younger woman (younger than us), a boy (around 10), and a baby-toddler (strapped in a chair and watching the Disney Channel). It turns out that both the woman were psychics. While Jasie was escorted by the older woman behind curtains, in a setting of greater ambience, Liz and Jendar took turns having their palms read by the younger woman, sitting on a couch in the front room, with the television on five feet away. I also could have had that chance, as they were both finished before Jasie, but I waited. The older woman seemed more legit. Once the curtain was closed behind me, the psychic asked me to think of two wishes and tell her one. I told her the one I cared the least about, because I felt less dumb saying it. Though it had nothing to do with my stated wish, she began by telling me that I would be very successful in both "love and money." I wouldn't be rich, but very comfortable. I would get married, and have three children—the first would be a girl. She said she saw me living by the ocean. "Very peaceful. Water." Now this was related to my wish. I told her that I wanted to know the right place for me to move, without explaining my already arrived at LA decision. It was at this point that I granted her more credence. She went on to say that something in the next 4 to 6 months would be a happy thing for me. A happy change. Perhaps related to this, an important letter will come that will require a signature. Either in the mail or email. She doesn't know. She said she saw pens, papers, books around me and asked if I was a student. I told her I just graduated, and she asked what I was doing now. "Looking for a job." "What kind of job?" "A librarian job." "Ahhh." There was more. Some possibly too personal too share, some just sound advice. All in all it was an interesting experience, and interesting to compare to my friends' own palm readings. In each case the respective psychic seemed to say or ask at least one insightful thing for that person. Jendar was asked her connection to New York City, when leaving or staying in the city was precisely the guidance she wanted, Liz was asked if she had plans to travel across the sea, when she wants to go to Europe this summer, etc., etc. Cheers to a $20.00 okay spent!

Los Angeles, I'm yours.

I have an answer now.

I am 99% going to spend this interim living at my grandma's house in Los Angeles. I decided one night while talking to my oldest brother, who lives in southern California too. Maybe I was just happy to have reached a conclusion, but it was the best I have felt about anything in a long time. When I told my younger brother he responded that he feels like living at grandma's after college is a rite of passage for Hunt children that he somehow avoided, which is perhaps why he doesn't feel like an adult yet. And it is a passage for Hunt children, but only some. I will be the third to do it, following my two older brothers. This is not completely surprising, as I similarly followed them on serving a mission and attaining an advanced degree.

I simply feel that a home surrounded by avocado and lemon trees may be the perfect place for me to be right now. And also, I may or may not have prayed that the Lakers would win the championship as confirmation for my decision. Sorry, Celtics fans!

Curly Hair Club

The last few days have been really lovely. They feel like gifts. Jendar, Liz, and Jasie came to my city from Manhattan, and it was so nice to be with them. We even formed a club. Or really, we formed multiple clubs, but the first, and possibly most important, revolved around our mutually curly hair. (Others involved sunglasses, sandals, and picnics.)

Monday evening we ate at my favorite pizza place in the North End—Ernesto's—where the "sometimes owner"/mafioso, became taken to Liz, and graciously ended up giving us free food. We also enjoyed the rightfully famous cannolis at Mike's Pastry before calling it a night. Tuesday we visited the infinitely charming Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, ate free popsicles at my alma mater, had a picnic at Boston Common, rode the swan boats in the Public Garden, and strolled through Harvard Yard and Longfellow's garden, respectively.

At this point, we sat on the grass at Longfellow's house while Liz dialed various numbers, and in all sincerity said sentences like, "Hi. Is this psychic readings by Catherine?" and, "My name is Liz. I'm interested in palm readings..." Listening to her end of the conversation made me laugh, but I was interested too. We all were. So that night we had our palms read (of which I will write more later), before eating Spikes (!). It was a holy, holy day.

Mafiaso!
Swan Boats!
Garden!

West Point Wedding

Saturday evening my friend Zach pronounced that we have watched some of the finest people get married this summer, and he is right—first Derik and Ingrid, second Hediyeh and Pete. I feel fortunate to have such fine friends, and fortunate to share them with Zach. I cannot express how happy I felt when, at 1:20 am the day before the wedding, after watching CocoRosie play and laying on a futon in Manhattan, I learned that he would be making his own journey to New York.

The wedding itself was beautiful, which is not surprising: Persian weddings are beautiful. And, as already alluded to, Hediyeh and Pete are beautiful, kind individuals. Followed by the dancing, my favorite part of the night's festivities was hearing them read the vows they wrote to one another. They were simple, and sweet, and sincere. I am grateful for the love they make.

Grad graduate now.

Apparently, life after grad school includes trips to various museums (MFA, ICA, etc.), the New England Aquarium, the Atlantic Ocean, surprise birthday and bachelorette parties in New York, walks around Lexington, Mass, Memorial Day hikes, and three music shows in three days.

It also includes long, demoralizing hours looking for a job, and long, un-demoralizing hours eating cookies and riding bikes. Nearly every day I find myself wondering if I would be better served looking for a job, eating cookies, and riding bikes elsewhere (such as Salt Lake, Provo, or Chapel Hill), and so far I haven't found an answer.

I wish I knew what I was supposed to be doing with my life. Right now I feel slightly unsettled.

Hello, Summer.

Thank you for your: sunshine, longer days, smells of honey suckle, bike rides, fresh watermelon, grilled veggies, hikes, rooftop views, music shows, and so forth.

Love as always,
Rachel

Commenced.

Bachelor of Arts in Philosophy April 2008

Master of Library and Information Science May 2010

Five years ago today

I walked into the MTC, one step at a time.

Yesterday I had a bad day.

So I bought a bike.

Spring Reading.

Reading now:

Let Toni Morrison tell us about love.

The following passage is one of the most moving treatises on love (or anything) I have ever been acquainted with. I also think it may be true.

Let me tell you about love, that silly word you believe is about whether you like somebody or whether somebody likes you or whether you can put up with somebody in order to get something or someplace you want or you believe it has to do with how your body responds to another body like robins or bison or maybe you believe love is how forces or nature or luck is benign to you in particular not maiming or killing you but if so doing it for your own good. Love is none of that. There is nothing in nature like it. Not in robins or bison or in the banging tails of your hunting dogs and not in blossoms or suckling foal. Love is divine only and difficult always. If you think it is easy you are a fool. If you think it is natural you are blind. It is a learned application without reason or motive except that it is God. You do not deserve love regardless of the suffering you have endured. You do not deserve love because somebody did you wrong. You do not deserve love just because you want it. You can only earn - by practice and careful contemplations - the right to express it and you have to learn how to accept it. Which is to say you have to earn God. You have to practice God. You have to think God-carefully. And if you are a good and diligent student you may secure the right to show love. Love is not a gift. It is a diploma. A diploma conferring certain privileges: the privilege of expressing love and the privilege of receiving it.

So this is what passes as grad school.

Watched:

Degrassi

Talked about:

Baby Sitter's Club

Goose Bumps

Futurama

iPad

Kindle

banned books

burned books

dvds

blue rays

iTunes

Google

video games

etc.

Sometimes

Sometimes I fly to Utah after turning in 47 pages of papers and giving two speeches in one day. Sometimes I talk to Derik on the phone the night before he gets married. Sometimes Zach and I drive to the temple together in the morning. Sometimes it is snowing hard in April. Sometimes we are in a hurry and run through that snow to get to the temple doors. Sometimes we have our recommends ready, but the gentleman at the desk speaks slowly, and tells us we are in the wrong place. Sometimes we exit the doors, and continue running in the snow through a crowd of people before reaching the right building. Sometimes we also run through the halls of the temple to make it to the sealing on time. Sometimes I feel a little bad about this later. Sometimes Derik and Ingrid walk in 20 seconds after we are seated. Sometimes Zach and I hold hands while our best friend is getting married. Sometimes the ceremony is so beautiful I cry. Sometimes it also makes me think, "This is the right place to get married." Sometimes at the reception I catch the boquet. Sometimes I feel happier than I ever remember feeling.

On Rand.

I will not say everything I think about her here, but I will say that I think she is a good philosopher, and that if she believed in God she would be a better philosopher. I will also say that I can’t stop reading her books, even to the detriment of my other activities/relationships. To demonstrate, I have carried—and read—her hefty volumes in the following places: at church, during class, during a concert, at the gym, on multiple trains, on multiple buses, while walking, in my bed, in at least one vegan restaurant, and so forth.

Music is my boyfriend/my nyquil/my heart.

I have gone to 5 music shows in a week and a half. All while trying to finish my final papers/projects/presentations.

I am getting too old for this.

The 'UP' house is in my neighborhood.

For real.

Homesick, cause I no longer know what home is.

Several times a day I find myself thinking, "I want to go home. I want to go home." [One day it was so strong that I thought, "Why do I even leave my house?"] I no longer remember when this started. Maybe two summers ago when I was hiking with Will and Kyle at 3 in the morning and our flashlight died. Maybe on my mission.

Regardless, at some point I realized this incessant thought wasn't necessarily referring to my home. Before Boston it just needed to be a place with a bed and the internet. Post Boston it largely meant Utah. Now I am unsure what it means, and this troubles me.

Things I am really into.

As of late:
Documentaries. Sparkling water. Spaghetti squash. Kale salad. Dried apples. Girl scout cookies. Running. Regina Spektor music videos. Fanfarlo. Ayn Rand. Graduating. Precocious three year olds. Breakfast clubs. Marathon Monday.

Always:

Weekend visitors. Spring weather. Crocuses and daffodils. Wrentham. Front porches. Conversations on those porches. Homemade pizza. Birthday cake ice cream. Sunday strolls. Kierkegaard. Roof top views. Sleepovers. Music shows.

Red Letter Days

April 27 Fly West
April 29 Derik and Ingrid's wedding
May 2 Fly East
May 8 Last day of classes
May 14 Graduation
June 1 Stars
June 2 Kings of Convenience
June 3 The National
June 12 Hediyeh and Pete's wedding