A little LIGHTS for ya!!

It's been a crazy month, y'all. But really. I've been writing a ton. SO MUCH WRITING. Which is awesome. And I can't wait to share it with you. I can't share all of it, because...reasons...but I will share this little snippet of LIGHTS with you!!

The morning air is crisp as I walk down the familiar streets. It's been years since I've actually looked around. The buildings all reaching high above, argent and black as far as the eye can see. The gray of the buildings almost washes out all colors around me. Reds seem faded, blues turn to gray, green fades to almost nothing. The yellow sign above the coffee shop door does stand out. Perhaps it's the florescent lights indicating that the coffee is hot and the employees are as bored as usual. I walk in and look at the people. It's a sea of black, white and gray business apparel around until I look over the the corner and see Ian in his usual spot. He is wearing a button up shirt that is white with a blue pinstripe, the sleeves rolled up, yet still looking precise and sharp. He doesn't look up when I enter but continues reading while the rest of the world ignores him. I place my order with the Shay at the counter. I have seen her nearly every day for years, and yet I don't think she could pick me out of a crowd. 

Soooooo.....what did you think? Wanna let me know in the comments? That'd be AWESOME!! :)

Daddy-O

I have been contemplating what to write about on here. I've been all over the place, really. And sometimes I forget that I am just myself on here. I'm not telling you about the great brownies I baked earlier (though, you can read about them on my other blog. AND they're delicious), or pretending to be a very exaggerated southern version of myself. Though, that's a fun blog too. But, since it's Father's Day this week I decided to spend some time talking about fathers.

I have an excellent father in my life. He and I but heads a lot because we have, like, the same personality at times, but I know that he loves me very much and would do almost anything for me. Last spring I was having some car troubles, just some minor stuff, and he climbed under my car and fixed a broken tail light and a few other things that needed to be done. My dad turned 70 this year, and he's still fixing my car when he can.

Growing up, my dad wasn't around a whole lot because he traveled for work from Monday to Thursday every week. Until I was 10 years old I only saw my dad on the weekends. I didn't think anything of it because it's how it always was for me. I sometimes wonder how different things would have been if he'd had a "regular" job with "regular" office hours. But, I'll never know because that's not how it was.

One thing I do know is that my dad is a great man. He is very generous and kind. He looks out for other people and loves to make people laugh. I love watching him with my nieces and nephews. He builds lego towers with them and wi bowls downstairs with them. He makes his "famous" grilled cheese sandwiches for them and they have picnics in the back yard with red koolaid. Hes retired now and has time to do these things. And it's beautiful.

The role of Father is a sacred title. It's one that I think is being diminished daily by the world and society. I am grateful for fathers who care. For men that stand up for those they love. A few weeks ago I got to spend some time with one of my brothers. He has a little baby girl that is gorgeous and I was watching him hold her the other day. She was smiling and giggling and loving him. And he her. I never would have imagined how grateful I am for brothers that take their responsibility to be a father seriously. All of my brothers that have children have shown similar love for their children and I can't help but respect them a little more for how amazing they are. They take the time and opportunity to raise their children and spend time with them. To teach their kids right from wrong and how to be amazing people.

I have friends that don't have dad's in their life either by choice, or not. It breaks my heart to think of anyone not having a dad. So, if you have a dad in your life think about how lucky you are! Think about how amazing your life is!!

More than one of my friends has lost their father far too early in life and my heart hurts for them. It can't be easy. And I don't have the words to bring peace. But I do love you.

Since it is father's day weekend, I hope that we can all take the time to reflect one how great fathers are. And be grateful for all the fathers in our lives, whether they are our fathers, the fathers of our children, someone who stepped in when we needed a father, whatever the case may be, I hope we can recognize the importance of fathers this weekend. And every day.

Other Writing Gems

Hey friends!! So, I have been working on my blog lately, in case you didn't notice, I completely changed the layout and and trying to make this looks super snazzy and stuff.

Any way, I had about 5 blogs and have condensed them down to 3 total. This one, obviously, is for me and my writing and is more focused on Soozee Carmichael and all that goes into being me.

The second is one that I started three years ago and never really kept up on. It's a fictitious character named Raleigh Christensen. She lives in Provo, UT and has some crazy adventures. Also, she just met the most amazing guy named Hollander. It's pretty funny. My mom laughed when I let her read my most recent post. It's pretty great. The link for that blog is:

confessionsofahappyvalleygirl.blogspot.com

And the third blog is a new one that a friend suggest I start about six months ago. I finally feel that I have time and am really dedicated to making it great. If we're friends on FaceBook then you know that whenever it is the birthday of a famous person I like or admire, I post about how I will be baking something awesome to celebrate while watching/reading/listening to whatever they do for a living. So, my friend suggested that I start a blog for this and see if we can get a following for it, which would be awesome. My first post will go live on Monday, June 13th when we celebrate Chris Evan's birthday. It's going to be great fun and I highly recommend just checking it out after I start posting. That blog can be found at:

starstruckbaking.blogspot.com

This also means that I have taken down the blog I started as my fake British assistant, Emmalee Fairfax, which is unfortunate, but I also hadn't posted anything in 3 years, so I'm pretty sure no one will even notice....

Let me know what y'all think of my writing. Go check out my other blogs and just have some fun!!

That We May Never Forget

June 6th, 1944 is a day that I doubt will ever be truly forgotten, and it shouldn't be. Over memorial day I had the thought to write this post but didn't have the time to do it justice, so I'm making up for lost time. Especially since my thoughts coincide with D Day.

When I was young I had to write a report for a class. I was assigned to interview someone who had lived through a historic event, or something like that. I don't remember why I had to do the assignment, I just know that my mom encouraged me to talk to her dad.

My grandfather was a soldier in World War I I and was sent to Normandy in June 1944. He arrived a few days after D Day. He told me that as they reached the shore you could smell the death that washed over those shores. You could feel the tension in the air and as he looked across the blood stained beach at all the men left there, it didn't matter what side they were in. They were gone now. Both sides lost men. Both sides fought with all they had.

As the days progressed, my grandfather kept fighting and one day was out on patrol. German soldiers came up on them and started shooting. My grandfather put his hand on his helmet and one point and was shot. To this day, he still can't bend his finger completely, but if he hadn't had his hand on his helmet, he would have died. Instead, he was sent to Switzerland to recover and was then sent to work in several Allied offices until his tour was completed.

Because of his time in Switzerland, my grandfather loves clocks. He said that he fell in love with the Black Forest Cuckoo clocks. He couldn't afford one at the time, being a poor soldier, but he always wanted one. This was something I grew up knowing about my grandfather without knowing where he'd gained a love of clocks.

Upon his return home, my grandfather was met at the bus station by his best friend who had also been to war. He is filled with emotion as he talks about the mountains of Utah behind him and his friend waiting to greet him. He knew he had made it back home. He knew that he would be alright now. That the worst was behind him.

There is something about the Rocky Mountains that is unmistakably peaceful. Though they tower over my hometown, they seem like gentle giants guarding my family and home.

I can relate to my grandfather in some ways. I know the feeling of home that resides in the valleys of Utah. I have felt the relief of coming home from a long journey. I have not felt the fear or grief that comes with war. And I hope that we can all take a few minutes to contemplate the sacrifice of so many men and women through out all of our country's history that allow us the freedoms we have today. Without them, this country would not know the joys of freedom and peace. Thank you.

ALL THE FEELS

We all know of my *slight* addiction to TV shows, especially those of the superhero variety. But dang. Seriously. It has been a rough go of my shows lately. The writers are killing people left and right. It's like Injustice: Year 1, Issue 16 when Dick Grayson is accidentally killed by Damian Wayne. In the midst of this huge battle between Batman and Superman and their respective teams a single moment stands out. and suddenly you're ugly crying to the point that you have to put your comic down because you can't read you're crying so hard.

That's been me watching my shows. So many character deaths. Ugh. I hate it. Some are short and quick, like on The Flash last week, and others have been awful and drawn out. #savehook. Writers. You're killing me. And the feels. Oh the feels. I hate trying to explain why I'm ugly crying over a show. *sob*sob* "you just don't get it! It was his dad! The only family he had left! *sob*sob* and now he's gone!!" more sobbing. more ugly crying. All over fictional characters. This is my life.

And then, there's the other aspects of my life. Job searching. It's the worst. I hate spending hours a day filling out applications to companies that aren't even going to email me to let me know they're not interested. I feel like my information just goes into a black hole of nothingness sometimes.

I actually applied for a job that would potentially lead to my dream job. I saw the listing about this time last Thursday night/Friday morning and applied for it. And now comes the waiting game. The constant worry that I might not even hear back from them. That somehow the awesomeness of my resume and writing sample will some how not impress whoever I sent it to. If they even look at it. And my dream job could easily slip through my fingers. I'm not saying this to be negative, I'm just saying this because it's consuming my soul and I'm tired of it consuming my soul. I'm just tired. And not just because it's 2:32 AM and I'm still awake after finishing this season of iZombie. It's more than that.

In light of my above little outburst of emotion, I have decided to share with you a poem that I wrote. This is me putting myself completely out in the open as a writer. I am not a poet by nature and I struggled hard core in my intermediate poetry class, and the following poem is the result. That semester I was hooked on LIGHTS and couldn't help but write, like, all of my poems about Emma, Ian and Donovan. So, this poem is called Starlit Dreams and it's from Emma's perspective after she's lost Ian:

Starlit Dreams

I watch for every flicker

lighting the corners of my

eyes, and into my imagination.

Each night as I sleep, I hope

beyond the truth, the seconds

trickle past and tease me. A broken watch

remains, last proof that he is real. An echo

of his rich laugh a fire and coals on a cold day.

His fingers slipped from my neck, pausing

briefly at the base, like a waterfall

pooling. Waiting, holding, hoping

that time does not move past

his eyes. Deep caverns with a spark of light

that guides the weary strangers. I

caress the memory of waking

up beside him, the sting of winter kept

away by the warmth of his smile.

I dream of silver trees next to

ocean breezes after a storm

with hope and starlit dreams.

I may have broken someone's heart yesterday and although I don't regret that I did it, I do hope that I didn't cause more damage than necessary. It's made me stop and think a lot about how we treat other people. A LOT of people that I care about in my life have given me a lot of advice on how I should approach things. I listened to them for a while, but when I'm alone, and especially after I've spent some time reading my scriptures and contemplating my life, I have come to realize a few things. First, that how I personally feels does, in fact, matter. Second, that although we should give everyone a really good chance, that doesn't always mean that things are going to go the way you or other people think they will. Third, don't waste people's time. I feel really bad about that one because I think I wasted more time than I should have. I should have been more direct, but I was worried I would hurt someone or not give them enough of a chance. Instead, I put it off a lot longer than I should have. Which happens. Ugh. Feelings. They're killing me, guys. You can't live with them, and you can't live without them. I kind of feel like Barry Allen on tonight's The Flash. There's a moment towards the end of the episode where there's a big reveal and he can't handle it anymore and he goes out into the hallway and just collapses on the ground and is sitting there with his elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands and there's tears streaming down his face. He just couldn't handle the emotions anymore. That's me mentally. I'm beyond my breaking point emotionally. Which is what it is. And I'll find the strength along the way. But dang. ALL THE FEELS. I tell you what, they're not so bueno. 

Barren

I'm waiting for my laundry. Because heaven forbid I actually remember to do my laundry when the sun is still up and it's a reasonable time while I catch up on all of my TV shows from the past five years. It's fine, though, really. I have some time to think in the wee hours of the morning as I listen to the spin cycle go round and round, and the topic of the day comes from something I read on the internet.

Now, this is a very very touchy subject, and I am in no way trying to make light of anything that anyone is going through. Trust me, I am not trying to make you hate me or think that I am trying to downplay your situation. I'm not. Life is hard. So so hard. Any way, the topic I am thinking of lately is the idea of being barren.

Barren.

Such an interesting word. Usually associated with infertility, which is why I gave my warning above. Because I know some people that struggle with that, and I love them and do not wish to make light of their situation. Nor is that exactly what I am going to talk about today.

Let's go to the Bible. It's such a fascinating book full of so many rich stories. I have a special place in my heart for the Old Testament. A year ago I took a religion class in the midst of my college studies. The topic of my religion class was Women in the Scriptures. It was so eye opening and fascinating and it is where my topic originated from. To be barren has several different definitions, and holds different meanings based on your circumstance. Let's look at Jacob. He fell in love with Rachel. Oh, he loved her. He loved her so much that he was willing to work seven years for her father just to marry her. He couldn't wait to marry her and on the day of their wedding Rachel's father, Laban, tricked him and he married Rachel's older sister Leah instead.

Sometimes I feel like I can relate to Leah. I am currently on my third or fourth set of friends in the last five years. My friends all keep finding someone they can spend forever with and go off and get married and I sit here. In my house. Doing laundry and 1:00 AM. Alone. Feeling like this might be how I spend the rest of my life. I know how it feels to feel unwanted. I know what it feels like to be asked out because my friends felt bad for me and convinced some guy to take me. And it sucks. Can you imagine how Leah felt? Knowing that her dad was tricking this guy into marrying her? This guy that is actually in love with his sister? She has watched him for SEVEN YEARS work hard just to marry her little sister.

So Jacob works for seven more years to marry Rachel. And he married her, and he was in love with her. More so than Leah, because Rachel was always his first choice. I love how the Bible (Genesis 29-31, in case you wanted to read this for yourself) says in Gen. 29:31 "And when the Lord saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb; but Rachel was barren." There's that word again, barren. Rachel was physically barren, and Leah definitely was not. She has several children before Rachel ever has a kid. But Leah does not have the love of her husband. In that aspect, she is barren. She feels despised and rejected.

It is interesting to note how often this same type of situation comes up in the Bible. You have this example, there is also Hannah, in the book of First Samuel, who is the favored wife of her husband, but has no children. They are at a feast in the first chapter and Hannah is upset because she has no children but they have been married for a long time. In 1 Sam 1:8 it says, "Then said Elkahah her husband to her, Hannah, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved? am I not better to thee than ten sons?" How often in the scriptures is there a woman who has the love of her husband, but can give him no children? OR, there's the flipside of that. The women who are married to men that do not love them, but they have scores of children. Both women, in a way, are barren. One physically, and the other emotionally.

I am usually really in a great place about my life. I have a great life full of promise and adventure. I have so many doors open to me right now and I love the aspect of not really knowing what's next. It's great fun. Most of the time. There are moments, usually brief, that give me pause. I was walking to my car late one night from a friend's apartment. We had been talking about the end of the semester and the graduation ceremony which I was planning on attending and all that comes with moving on. Graduating college was a huge step for me. Mostly because I honestly wasn't sure I'd be able to do it. College was not easy for me and I worked hard to accomplish the goals that I set. As I walked through the chilly night air that night, my heart sank for just a moment. It hit me that as much as I generally don't mind waiting for Dean, he wasn't going to be there. I wasn't going to get to share this huge moment with him. Yeah, I can show him pictures later after we meet, but it won't be the same. And then, I thought about all the other huge life events that I will do on my own. And then, I thought about what he might be doing that I won't get to see because we're not together yet. My heart broke a little bit that night. I may have shed a tear. Not because I was alone, but because I felt barren in that moment. Trying to look ahead with hope, but just feeling alone in that moment.

And so, that brings me to my current thoughts on the subject. There will be times in all of our lives that we will feel barren. It might not be a physical inability to have children, or it might. It could be that aching pain when you realize that your life did not go at all according to plan and that you are considered an old maid by a majority of your peers. It could be that you can't find a job in your chosen profession. And no matter how many resumes and applications you send out, the crickets are still chirping.

I hope that in these moments of pain and anguish that we remember that there is a God above who knows us. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He is looking out for us and is with us through our moments of barren-ness. He will always guide us through. And one day we will understand why we were asked to go through the trials we went through. It's hard to see the big picture amid the storm, but there is a big picture. And there is a Savior who can truly understand our grief and pain.

Stay strong, my friends. Know that I love you.


And, just in case you were wondering how my job search is going post graduation, this is a song that sums up my whole life right now!!

We are all connected

Elizabeth Sinclair was born on the 18th of January 1766 in Islands, Orkney, Scotland. She died on the 17th of January 1783. This is about all the information I have about her. She is a distant relative of mine, and today was a very good day for her. In a small town of little consequence in the heart of Utah, she was remembered. She was looked after, and she was saved. I did not find her name in the records of my family. I did not do much of the work, but I did make sure that she was not forgotten today. And I'm pretty sure she was very happy to be remembered. One day, in the eternities, I hope to give her a hug and thank her for letting me a part of today. I feel connected to her in a way that I can't really describe. She is my family. And family looks out for each other. I hope that I do not forget the feelings I have felt today. This post is mostly for myself so I don't forget, but also I wanted to share it so that we can all be reminded how important our families are. Even those members that we have never met. And will never meet in this life. Family. It's about time.