A new 10

Actually, it's a return to a previous 7 that has become a new 10. Do you remember this post??

 If not, there was a refresher for ya. So, I hadn't watched Chuck or Tangled for a long time, and my sister in law invited me over to watch a Hallmark hall of fame movie last weekend starring Alexis Bledel and Zachary Levi. And as we watched I remembered how much I really love Zachary Levi. 

    So, when I was finally done with finals this week Ale came by to bring me a post finals treat. I asked if she wanted to watch something, she said sure, I asked if we could watch Chuck because I haven't watched it in like a year or so and she said she'd try an episode. 

     One thing you have to understand is that Ale and I don't actually like a lot of the same TV Shows. There are a few we both like, but none that we both love. Until now. I got her hooked on Chuck (and who wouldn't be, really?) and Zachary Levi plays Chuck. And I love him. Just a little bit. He's my new 10. Except, he was already close to a 10, but now he's my 10. And do you know why? #1: He's attractive. #2: He's my favorite Disney prince *smolder*.

 and #3: He's a nerd. Not just on the show, but in real life. Zachary Levi is a nerd. YAY!! This is awesome because I have recently realized that I am in fact a nerd. Which takes him from the 7 I ranked him at last year, up to being my 10. That's right, move over Sam Worthington, Christian Bale, David Tennant, Josh Dallas, Adam Levine, Matt Smith, and all the other 10s. 

 Speaking of attractive guys, Ale convinced me to sign up for online dating. Let's talk more about awkward than attractive. Too bad there aren't any Zachary Levi-esq guys on there (at least not that I have seen). I have talked to a few guys, but nothing that is incredibly striking and awesome. I figure there is no harm in trying new things though, right? Liam has decided that he needs to meet any guys that want to meet me. I love how much my friends care about me. It's really awesome.  I don't know if anything will come of it, but hopefully it'll be fun.
   
     So, this semester is over. Thank goodness for that. This was a rough one and I'm glad it's over. Time to have a fantastic summer. I am going to be moving soon. A good friend of mine wants me to be room mates with her, which I think will be a good thing. I told Ale she's going to have to come hang out with me like all the time. And I'll be working on LIGHTS and Changing Tyde and I'll also be quilting and baking and loving my life!!!!

If you read this, I'm really okay, I promise.

So, I've been thinking about life again. I should be writing papers right now, or going to the church to set up for FHE, but here I am, thinking about life and about all of you lovely people that still read this blog, or that have just started (hello, new people!!!). I am a very unique individual. I don't use "unique" as code for weird, nerdy, strange, crazy, or insane; although some and/or all of them may apply on any given day. I say that I am unique because there really isn't another one like me. I am my own person. I have amazing talents and gifts that other people don't. I made 150 cupcakes between Friday and Saturday. They looked AMAZING. and I'm not just saying that for a pat on the back, they were beautiful. And I did them. All by myself. I made the cupcakes. I made the frosting. I made the Andes mint fudge. I didn't smash the Oreos because Ale asked to, but beyond that, they were mine. All mine. This may also sound a little self absorbed, but sometimes I don't want people to help me because I want all the credit. I don't like sharing. maybe because I usually have a vision of what I want and I feel that if other people get involved I'll lose my sight and then I have to tell people that other people helped me, and with this project, I wanted it all. I still ended up having to share the credit, but that's okay. Because I know that I did it all. They were mine. All mine. And I am so proud of myself for accomplishing my goal despite really unfortunate set backs.
    I am also unique (and this is really where I was going with this...just had to vent about the cupcakes) because I am 28 years old, and I am still very single. So many of my friends are married with 1 or 2 kids and their lives and stresses and worries are completely different than mine. I love my life. I absolutely love it. I was talking to my sister in law the other day and we were talking about how the grass is always greener on the other side, which is so true. I look at my friends that are married and think "do you realize how lucky you are? Do you see how amazing your life is? Do you know what I would give to have what you have? You're so lucky!!!!" Each day of our lives presents itself with challenges, and I understand that. And now that I've shared my secret envy of my friends, I will share with you another little secret. I'm also really okay with my life. Have I said that enough in this post? I'm totally okay with my life right now. I'm taking steps forward and putting plans into action (except for the writing my papers right now thing....I really need to work on that one). I have come to terms with, and accepted, that it is a possibility I might not get married in this life. Now, before you call me and tell me how I'm going to find someone and that I'm giving up to soon (because I've found that is a response I get quite regularly when people ask if I'm dating someone and I tell them I'm not looking). This does not mean that I don't want to get married, I do-believe me, I do!!! This also doesn't mean that I've given up on looking for Dean. This just means that if the opportunity never presents itself, I will be okay. I have plans for my life and they are AMAZING plans!!! I can't be best friends with Adam Levine and Matt Smith if I'm married with kids. That would be awkward. If I was single, I could do all the crazy things I dream about sometimes. I could publish some books, open a bakery, and then go travel through Europe. Get lost in Ireland. Randomly end up in Cardiff where they film Doctor Who. If I'm going to dream, I might  as well dream big, you know? So, that's what I'm doing. And then, when I do happen to meed Dean Carmichael (whether in this life, or the next) I will know that everything he and I have been through will have made us stronger and better for each other. I will fully understand why I was asked to travel this path alone for as long as I will be asked to. That day will be a glorious one, and I can't wait to meet him. And I know that patience is a virtue, and one that I feel I have learned a lot of. But I actually really love it. patience is still a hard thing for me, but knowing that the longer I wait *patiently*, the greater blessings I can receive.
     I do love my life. And I expect great things from myself. I know that I can do hard things. I know that I can accomplish great things, and I know that my Heavenly Father has tried to help me see all that He has in store for me for a while now. I finally figured out how to listen. And it's a beautiful future, no matter what happens. I hope we can all find that joy in the journey. I hope we can all find the peace that the gospel brings. If you don't have that peace, I hope you can find it. There is nothing that compares.

I am the writer.

I have a teacher this semester that requests a response to each of the authors we study. She keeps telling us that we are the writers, so whatever we write is our response. We are the writers. We are the writers. I am the writer. I decided to test the limits with my Emily Dickinson response because I couldn't think of anything academic to say, I just kept seeing Emily and Ian and part of their story running through my head, so I decided to run with it! And here you go:

Soozee Carmichael

Emily Dickinson Response

February 9, 2013

As I read Emily Dickinson this time through, I kept having this story play through my mind as I read her words. I am not a poet at all, but I am a writer and I felt that I could best express my impression of Emily Dickinson's poetry through a story of my own. This is just an excerpt of what I saw in my mind, and much like her poetry, you will see only a tiny glimpse of a much broader idea. I feel that this story best captures my feelings of the poetry we read because it's a story that focuses on a ballerina named Emma who thinks that everything around her is real, but in reality everything she is seeing is false and the dream that she keeps having is real. She is actually married to the man in her dreams, but she has been taken and made to think that he never existed, thus making him just a dream to her. So she keeps seeing him in her mind and knowing that he is significant, but she has no way of knowing exactly how to get to him, or that he is real. I feel that there is a sense of longing and hopefulness in the midst of these poems that kind of remind me of what Emma is feeling. In some ways, I think Emma understands Emily Dickinson far better than I could. This story reminds me of Ms. Dickinson's poems specifically about eternity, nature and beauty. Not that the other poems we read don't apply, there are just several that really led me to write the excerpt below.

More Than Just A Dream

Sometimes I dream about him. And then I wake up alone and I reach out in between my dream and reality as if reaching for him will bring him closer to me. The dream is always the same. It starts out so happy and peaceful. We're having a picnic in this beautiful meadow with silver trees. The trees aren't entirely silver, they have veins of silver running through them. They're magical. And so is he. His messy perfect hair, his gorgeous eyes, and the way he looks at me and makes me feel so loved. We are there laughing when the sky suddenly goes dark and a shadow passes over his face. He get up and he takes my hand. Its all very quick as he tries to get to safety, wherever that is.

Someone is following us. Stalking us. He keeps a firm grip on my hand and keeps looking back to make sure I'm still there. “Don't let go!” he keeps shouting as we run down a steep hill covered in jagged rocks. He looks at me, and then at his watch. He looks at me again and is saying something, but I can't understand him. Whatever is following us is getting closer. I can't see the creature-whatever it is, but I can tell it's getting close. I can feel it.

And then he's gone. My love has vanished and my hand falls to my side as I start to slow. I don't know where I'm going. And then everything goes dark and I wake up. I can't remember his name, and as soon as I wake up the details of his face start to fade. It's like there's something that doesn't want me to remember him. Whoever he is, he left me there, though. Alone. To face the darkness. But I still reach for him. And I realize that my twin bed wouldn't fit anyone but me any way. My hand reaches out for the love that isn't there and finds cold air of the frigid January morning in New York.

I get up and walk to the window, as if looking out will bring him closer to me. Absentmindedly, I play with the ring on my left hand. It doesn't mean anything to me, but I wear it any way. It catches every glimmer of light that is around. I twirl it around my finger over and over again without realizing I'm doing it. It's become a habit. I almost feel like it's supposed to remind me of something, but I can't think of what. And then I remember the man in my dreams. I don't know who he was, but it is as if our souls were attached, and we can't live without each other. But dreams are all that I have. I don't know what else to do, I know he doesn't exist. That much is never spoken, but understood in my mind.

My bookshelf stood beside my window. An old black book caught my eye, I picked it up. It was the complete works of Emily Dickinson. I had always loved her poetry. The way that they stood out from the ordinary and brought a darker shadow to the ordinary. I somehow felt that she understood my life and the craziness that I felt each day as I awoke from the same dream; as if my reality was just out of reach. I opened the pages and read the first poem I came to:

13

Sleep is supposed to be

By souls of sanity

The shutting of the eye.

Sleep is the station grand

Down which, on either hand

The hosts of witness stand!

Morn is supposed to be

By people of degree

The breaking of the Day.

Morning has not occurred!

That shall Aurora be —

East of Eternity —

One with the banner gay —

One in the red array —

That is the break of Day!

“Emma?” I hear my name from behind me. I turn and see Nikki standing in my doorway. Our apartment is small, and I'm sure she heard me in my sleep again.

“Sorry, was I talking in my sleep again?” This was becoming a nightly occurrence.

“No, but I heard you get up and wanted to make sure you were alright. How did you sleep? Did you have the dream again?” Nikki looked concerned, again. She had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. She knew everything about me.

“Yeah, I did. It's always the same. The same guy, the same place, the same darkness chasing us. I wish I knew what it meant.” I closed the book that spoke directly to my soul, putting all of my thoughts, doubts and fears onto paper. As I placed it back on the shelf I turned to Nikki,

“Maybe it's better if you don't.” I turned back to the window and watched the people rushing through the rain below us. I didn't want to ignore these dreams. They meant something. I just didn't know what.

“He's not real, Em. There's no one that could be that perfect. And, I don't know of anywhere that has silver trees. So, it's all in your fantastic imagination. Now lets go, we have rehearsal in like 35 minutes and I'm pretty sure that it's going to be a really long rehearsal since we've only got three days until the show opens. Too bad not everyone has their part down like you do.” It was true, ballet had come naturally to me. I was the prima ballerina in the New York City Ballet. You don't just wake up in that position. It takes a lot of hard work and dedication. I had given up everything to achieve this dream. Nothing was going to stand in my way.

I got ready quickly and we rushed over to the studio. We were the last ones there. We joined in with everyone else warming up and before I knew it, we were in the midst of running through the entire performance. Something odd had been going on, and I couldn't quite figure out how to explain it. My dance partner's name was David, and although he was incredibly talented, I felt like I had never danced with him before in my life. He was more rigid than necessary and we didn't exactly flow well together. There was something off about the way we danced. I also kept calling him Marques, which was odd. There were so many unexplained oddities in my life. I felt like I was living in a dream and that nothing was real. But how can reality not be real? How can everything I see in front of me and feel and do and touch be false?