It’s A Sabotage

Haven’t posted in a bit.  Haven’t written in a bit.  I just can’t seem to get anything out when the opportunity presents itself.  It’s more than just that.  There’s actually a whole slew of reasons why my writing and bloging has gone on the wayside, and most are all my fault.  Procrastination is the name of the game, and being unproductive is the rule.  Slacker Cici has been in full tilt the past few months, but I swear, it hasn’t all been looking at memes and Facebook, though most of it has been my fault…all my fault! Read more of this post

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Stuff…Lot’s of Stuff!

Quite a few things crossing my mind: computers, kid’s meal toys, meeting Laurell K. Hamilton for the first time, reading & reviewing, gardening, games, sewing, and writing.  Wow, that’s actually quite a bit! No kidding, I got a lot on my plate! I’ve been working more at the greenhouse, though that doesn’t necessarily tie into my gardening.  It does keep me from doing the many tasks I’ve gotten myself into, not including my normal chores.  It’s been so long since my last real post.  I’ve been writing, but posting on my blog hasn’t made it up the list of things to accomplish before I pass out.  So, here I am, making the attempt  I’ll probably just cut this into bits and pieces, or not even touch on most of the things I really want to post about.

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Dear Old Love, Too

Again, for your enjoyment, I give you some new Dear Old Love posts from the past month or so.  Enjoy!  (BTW None of these are actually mine…) Read more of this post

Dear Old Love

I love this book, and the sight.  It’s anonymous little letters written by many people, to people that they either liked or loved.  Some can be so general that you’d swear your ex-boyfriend wrote it about you.  Others are so specific and heartbreaking.  I picked out some choice posts for the past month and am putting them here, but if you want to read more go to http://dearoldlove.tumblr.com/ Read more of this post

His Heir, Her Honor by Catherine Mann

His Heir, Her Honor by Catherine Mann is about the chief administrator of St. Mary’s leading surgical facility, Lilah Anderson and Dr. Carlos Medina, eldest son to a former European Monarch and dedicated surgeon. They have been friends for years, but when Lilah tells him that their one night stand is going to result in a baby, Carlos knows it can’t really be his. Still, Lilah insists that no one else could have fathered her baby.  Could the doctors probably be wrong, or is Lilah just trying to get her hands on a royal wedding? Read more of this post

Left at the Altar: My Story of Hope and Healing For Every Woman Who Has Felt the Heartbreak of Rejection By Kimberly Kennedy

Left a the Altar is Kimberly Kennedy’s real-life story of being jilted hours before her wedding day and how she overcame the grief fo being rejected by the man she loved.  In her book she shares stories from other women who have also been rejected, stories from men who have done their share of rejecting, and a few tools and insights on how to overcome the pain. Read more of this post

Protected: Divinity Games: The Wedding Dress

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Challenge #2 Memory

Write about eight memories involving the senses: touch, smell, hearing, taste, sight and emotion.

#1 Feeling along the walls of my pitch black basement.  Using my hands to tell me where I was by the texture and the firmness of the fake wood paneling.  I could’ve sworn I was right in front of the bathroom and the thing blocking it was an unusually firm sheet of cardboard.  However, when my mother turned on the lights to the main basement I realized what I’d been banging on was the other side of my brother’s bedroom wall.

#2 I was thirsty and I saw several glass bottles outside by the water hose.  So, I picked one up and tried to take a drink.  It was the worst thing I’ve ever tasted, though I can’t describe it.  I just know I spit it out before swallowing and for about the next couple of days nothing tasted right.  Oddly enough the only thing that would take the taste out of my mouth during that time was a penny.  It wasn’t delicious, but it soothed.

#3 It didn’t feel so natural, certainly not like sitting normally.  I think we shifted around for a good fifteen minutes, then he pushed through.  I could feel it as if he’d been trying to go through a tight circle I’d made with my fingers.  The barrier gave way with a near audible ‘pop!’.

#4 Around Christmas time we started smelling burning plastic.  We checked the oven for a leak, the computer for a short in the wires and even the vents to see if anything plastic was on them.  Nothing,  and yet the smell kept coming back regularly.  It did go away after the tree went down though.

#5 Crying at weddings isn’t unusual.  There’s always someone who does it.  I didn’t know who, but I knew someone was would.  I was thirty minutes late, after waiting for my veil to be finished.  When the first notes of the Wedding March started up, and everything I’d been dreaming of suddenly became a reality I thought, “Oh NO!” I was oblivious to anyone else crying, cause from the spill-over room down to the alter my eyes were spilling over in never-ceasing streaks under the cover of my home-made veil.

#6 I sat in the parking lot, opening a package, and  I instantly smelled chocolate.  Not only had my best friend sent me a couple of comics, and a signed copy of the new Laurell K. Hamilton novel, but she’d sent my pregnant self a delicious chocolate bar.  It’d melted in the summer heat and been squished during transit, getting melted confection all over everything inside.  The comics survived as they were still in their protective plastic but he book was not as lucky.  It fortunately wasn’t ruined, just a little chocolatey stain inside the first few pages and on the bottom edges.  Even more fortunate though, was that now whenever I pick up that copy, I’m going to smell that delicious bar.

#7 A day before her birthday, my grandmother got sick.  She’d fallen earlier and my mother told me not to wait till the next day to see her.  That night she started throwing up blood and my mother stayed by her side to help her and to make sure she didn’t drown in her own fluids in the middle of the night.  I stayed as well to support her emotionally.  It was dark in the room and though it didn’t smell, but I remember the sounds of her coughing and hacking on her own fluids, followed by long moments where I couldn’t even hear her raspy breathing.

#8 My grandmother died the day after her birthday.  Me and my family members were allowed to view the body in the hospital shortly after.  I wish I hadn’t.  She’d had a tube down her throat to pump the blood out of her stomach and though she was in a coma, her eyes had been wide open the whole time.  There seemed to be some life in those eyes when her heart was still beating, but they just stared at nothing and no one closed her mouth after the tube had been extracted, so it was open wide like Imhotep in the Mummy movie.  She’d lost a lot of weight, so the last sight of her the one that sticks with me is this corpse that I see occasionally in my nightmares.