Electronic Validation

Last week, the Huffington Post College section posted a tweet asking if anyone would be interested in writing a post about the Occupy Wall Street Movement. I answered and put together a 500 word op-ed. I don't do well at writing my opinion about a popular and complicated situation because I don't feel I'm qualified to make judgments. A very Socratic mindset of the more I learn, the more I realize I have no idea. But I knew I had to take advantage of the opportunity; if a college educated woman who seeks out education and understanding is afraid to say something, who is educated enough? I know I'm not the most educated and I'm definitely not an expert but I am smart enough.


So here it is: I was published on the Huffington Post. I am more proud of this than I seem to be.


http://www.huffingtonpost.com/hilary-hurst/the-disappointing-sheen-o_b_1023744.html

A Vintage Winter

I love autumn outfits and I love vintage pictures so obviously this picture is perfect and I want everything about it. Brought to you by my late-night thoughts. You're welcome.

Welcome, Fall

I have not been ready for Fall. The biggest problem is we had a 30˙ drop this last week so mentally I was still clinging to Summer and then I was tossed into Winter: cruel joke. Well the other night after work I had to head north to get measured for my dress so Taylor and I missed having dinner together. When I got home we went to Slab Pizza so I could eat a ginormous piece of Hawaiian pizza. It was dark and rainy as we left the partially sub-level restaurant and my mouth wasn't satisfied so we headed towards our favorite frozen yogurt place. When we got to the parking lot of Yogurtland it didn't seem right. I knew it would be delicious but I wasn't sold and I knew Taylor wasn't in the mood. As I sat in the car debating dessert I saw Starbucks across the street and I decided I wanted a Holiday themed drink.

The entire Starbucks experience that night hit both Taylor and me. We walked into the small shop, Taylor wearing his hooded jacket (something deeply sentimental for me for lots of reasons I won't discuss) and me in a jacket and scarf. The shop had enough people filling the chairs it felt welcoming but not enough to have a line or destroy the home-y feeling. We got our drinks from a hipster guy and a magenta-haired girl and we walked out into the cool mist of Fall. I slipped into the high that comes with a cozy feeling in the middle of California-winter weather and Taylor imagined the variety of similar places we could discover if we lived somewhere like Chicago or New York.

We were not meant for Provo. Today, Taylor came and took me to lunch (I work in American Fork). There's not that much distance between the two places but there is so much freedom the closer you are to Salt Lake City. It will be a temporary fix in December when we're married and leave Provo, making things better until we can leave Utah for good. Until then, we are both now fully enjoying the cooler weather and all it offers.

Winter Shoes

Yesterday Taylor and I went to TJMaxx in search of some knock-off Uggs for me. I figured out few winters ago it's best to get $30 Fuggs because I'm so tough on boots it doesn't make sense to (as much as I'd love to) buy the name brand ones when they're going to be shot in six months.

As we walked through the shoe racks he pulled out every pair of not-Ugg boot. Apparently he thinks Uggs are awful, but every boot he pulled out I would never be able to get myself to wear, cold feet or no. At one point I found a cool pair of Ralph Lauren shoes that looked a lot like the traditional Puma style.

Me: "These are cool."
Taylor: "Yeah. They're summer shoes though."

pause.

Summer shoes? Oh yeah. This is my fifth winter in Utah and I still see any pair of close-toed shoe as a "winter" shoe.

This is why: Rainbows.

As a California kid, I wore these pretty much year-round. That picture is of me, my brother, Philip, and my sister, McKenzie, during our family portrait session last summer. Unplanned, and yet to no surprise, we all wore Rainbows. (What you don't see in this is that my sister-in-law, Elizabeth, and brother-in-law, Austin, were also wearing Rainbows.)

That's why it's so hard for me to buy "winter shoes". I always want to wear flip flops and cold weather means I need to wear any type of shoe, so my feet are always cold.

These are what I did buy, though:

They're perfect: a little weird, waterproof, fully lined and warm and I want to wear them.

words.

New favorite website: tagxedo.com

Go. Play. Share. You're welcome.

the creative yogi

Last summer my brother, Philip, and I took a ceramics class together. He (which then passed on to me) fell in love with ceramics in high school and it's something he and I continue to bond over. I won't get into the unexpectedly raw freedom that comes with a wheel of porcelain, but I will talk about a thought that class created. One of our assignments was to read "The Creative Habit" by Twyla Tharp. (Get a hold of it and read it. Especially if you are creatively (or have aspirations to be) driven.

In the essay she discusses the power of habit. In creating and maintaining a habit to begin anything from the day to a practice session to a moment of creativity, we allow ourselves to progress more quickly and efficiently. Basically, the power of routine.

As I mentioned it in my other blog, but I am now a working not-so-stiff. It feels really good and freeing to be in a routine that I like and isn't school. I love school, and I plan on going back someday, but I was really ready for something different.

I'm not great at routines, because I see them as constricting if I don't have flexibility. But I've always wanted one I like. So, with this job, I have created a simple morning routine: I do yoga.

I was converted to Yoga when I lived in Virginia and did Bikram Yoga. Sadly, there isn't a Bikram studio close by, so I have been doing small half-hour sessions via the Yogamazing podcast. It felt good, but I didn't think much about it until I skipped my routine last Friday. It was really ridiculous how useless I was. I couldn't focus and my day was way less productive than the rest of the week.

Lesson learned: Whether routine, yoga or both, I'm sold on my morning ritual.

Restart:

Last week I was blog stalking an ex-roommate (with whom I have no real relationship but know a little about her) and everything about her blog seemed fake. It felt like a prepackaged happy-blogger about life, love and food. The entire thing seemed like a facade to appear like her life is perfect so she can get followers. It weirded me out so badly it left me feeling bummed all day, so much so that I have to change the way I approach my blog.

This has to be real or else I'll hate my blog (and probably myself for writing such a cliché blog) in three months, so:

• No more nicknames. Lover's name is Taylor.
• I'm going to be raw at times about life.
• For the record: I really don't care if anyone follows me or not.

That's about all, I guess. Except that Taylor and I made sunflower seeds from the sunflowers in our garden. They're so delicious! They're super salty and they have a really good pop when you bite them and they almost taste like popcorn, which is weird but awesome.

Why I love my weird rabbit and boots

About two months ago my rabbit, Jovi, died. It was surprisingly difficult on me so a few weeks later Lover convinced me to buy the little Netherland Dwarf mix from the local pet store. When we first saw him he was in a cage with the guinea pigs. He would running from one end to the other spazzing out but as soon as you picked him up he would sit quietly in your hand. He was tiny! And he had short ears and a round face so he was unfairly adorable. We named him Rocofella. 

Roco has grown to look more like a rabbit (instead of a bunny) with everything elongating, and his personality is stellar. I think he has some species confusion because he climbs like a cat, sniffs around like a dog and hops like a deer.

 

I also bought myself a pair of combat boots. I get stared at because of them all the time, but I really couldn't care less. I feel BA when I wear them.

That is all I have to say right now about my wonderfully silly life.

Labor Day of Love

This weekend I drove out to California for my aunt's* wedding with my uncle/aunt and their four kids aged 12, 9, 7 and 3. It was an adventure, especially once the seven-year old started throwing up. They're good kids and they like me so it was a good drive even though it was long.

We spent the night in Reno at Circus Circus (where I almost gambled the $5 voucher my 18 year-old cousin picked up but we didn't have time) and a couple of hours in Tahoe catching crawdads (or crayfish for you southerners) and swimming. I love Tahoe. My dad's parents owned a cabin just outside there in Truckee so the Sierra Nevadas definitely say "home" to me. Plus the warm weather, chilly water and the adventure of catching crawdads brings back really good memories. I almost stayed in Tahoe, but I wanted to see my parents and sister/brother-in-law so I didn't.

The wedding was fantastic! My aunt is beautiful. I know everyone says that about the bride, but Ashley is exceptionally gorgeous. See for yourself:

 I love my family. All the time I spent chasing the little cousins (on my mom's side we have cousins almost consistently from age 26 to 1) and talking with my grandparents is special to me. Especially as I watch my grandparents get older I take time to appreciate them more.

This is my mom's dad with my youngest cousin:

Some fun highlights from the trip:

• Ate peach cobbler for breakfast with the Hursts.
• Enjoyed the wedding ceremony because it was personal, tender and appropriate.
• Watched personalities clash in ways I never recognized before.
• Found out Grandma Hurst still has her wedding dress. It's beautiful.
• Received one of Grandma Hurst's turquoise necklaces. It's a newer one Grandad bought her two years ago and she asked me if I would enjoy it. Ummm...duh.
• Realized my three-year old cousin (whose birthday was on Sunday) was almost a carbon-copy of me on my third birthday.
• This is us:

There's really no way to explain my family except that they kick ass. No, really.

*She's technically my aunt but she's 21 years younger than my mom, her sister, and she's only six years older than I am so our relationship has definitely not been the typical aunt/niece one.

4mm white gold size 6.5

Titles are an interesting thing. I once had to explain to a roommate that if she spent everyday with a guy, spent his money, fell asleep at his house and kissed him that he was her boyfriend even she said they were "just friends."

For a year and a half Lover has been asking me to marry him, and every time I would answer, "I want to." I did. I wanted to marry him so badly but I had a variety of issues to figure out before I could marry him. It was a long, tearful, painful and irreplaceable time but I did figure Hilary out.
Then last year, right before Christmas vacation, we had finished a rawly honest conversation and we were cuddling on his bed when he asked me again;
"Marry me, Hilary."

"Okay."
He pulled away and looked me in the eyes.
"Really?"
"Yes. I will marry you."

And so now, nine months later, I'm "officially" engaged. I have my ring and I changed my status on Facebook and we are planning a wedding.And to be honest, making it Facebook official really does make me feel more official.

A lot of people will wonder about the gaps, the time lines and the roller coaster of our relationship, but there's nothing really to say other than we're official and we will continue to be official from now to forever.

Weird. And so wonderful.