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.)

Updates.

Twenty-two days ago I bid farewell to Boston and made my way home to Utah. My brother Joe arrived from Reno the following day, with his little family. It was nice to see them. Thankfully, the rest of my Utah time was similarly nice and similarly relaxed. I ran through sprinklers with Eden, sat on front porches with Alicia, wished Kayte Brown happy birthday on her birthday, hugged Sam Dickens, listened to Bright Eyes with Jess (per our friendship tradition), discussed philosophy/grad schools with Derik, and spent as much time with Meg as possible. I also ate frozen yogurt nearly twice a day with my sisters and/or mother. I would not have wanted it any other way.

Then, last Tuesday I repacked my bags and road tripped it to Palo Alto. It was a long drive, but not a bad one. Emma and Emma sat in the front singing along to Abba while I sat in the back completing two books. When we arrived we went to a restaurant with Meg and Jared, where I ate the best Mexican food I have eaten in years. The next few days were filled with wedding things and friendship reunions (as well as the occasional trip to San Francisco). Everything was beautiful. The wedding was beautiful. Pictures will be forthcoming. It was also particularly nice for me to be at the Oakland Temple, as the last time I was there I was a missionary and the first time I was there was for my brother's wedding.

Now I live in Valencia, California with another brother, and another sister in law. I love them too, and their son Henry. It seems as if I will be playing nanny part-time while I continue to look for a job/figure out my life. We will see how it goes.

Meggie is getting married in the morning.

And I couldn't be happier about it.

Summer Reading.

Reading now:

The Naming of Things

A conversation tonight on The History of Love reminded me that if I were ever to have a daughter I would like to name her Alma.

A son: Soren.

Two cats: Kitty and Levin.

I have been gone too long.

The other evening I woke to my niece screaming. The niece I lived with from the time she was 5 months old to over two years. The one whom I LOVE.

After ascending the stairs in the near dark I found her alone in the bathroom crying. Her mom was working a graveyard shift, so I took her to their room and tried to comfort her. She refused to be consoled, and could only say, "I want to sleep with Charity, I want to sleep with Charity," in near hysteria. I felt bad about waking that requested sister as I knew she had to wake up early the next morning for work. Ede became even more emphatic: "She said yes." Trusting a screaming, 4 year old child, I slowly opened my sister's door.

Graciously Charity welcomed her in.

The following day I told Lia about the incident, before asking Eden why she wouldn't sleep with me. She turned to me, and in the snootiest voice imaginable answered, "But Charity is my aunt," to which I responded with some measure of sadness (and snootiness), "Little girl, I am also your aunt."

California here I come.

Right back where I started from.