- hello Christine Lee
- Username: CeeLee
- In response to: "What's the one thing you're never gonna give up?" I'll never give up on my writing. I may suck at writing, but if I gave it up, then I'd have to take up skydiving.
- CeeLee's latest answers
- Plinky Helps Plot My Weekend Escape Plan
”If you do it you’ll regret it, if you don’t do it you’ll regret it,
either way you’re going to regret it, you might as well just do it.” By Unknown
It’s Friday. My NanowriMo writing is…plodding along and and I enjoy having the quiet. But that’s about to change. In exactly 2.5 hours, my sanity will be bombarded by maleness. All sorts of maleness and not even the sexy kind. Just the loud, stinky and the ick exhibitions. I’m protective of my sanity, it’s not easy juggling everything I have going on , and so I’m desperate enough to conceive my escape plan. Don’t judge, you would be too.
Nowhere to run
In the house still small enough to have been built by mice, for mice, there is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. I know this, I’ve looked already. It’s raining outside so the two boys in question are going to be energized and bored. Lethal combo. For me. Ever see a NasCar race? They’ll be running laps inside this house. And yeah, I know it’s me, I know I’m old and not cool and apparently developed an intolerance to testosterone, or so Duck has informed me. So I’m getting out of here if it’s the last thing I do.
My Gimme 3 Steps (to the door) Plan
It’s risky but then again, so is remaining here.
Step 1. Engagement
I will engage the 2 kids by using the element of surprise.
“Aw…would you look at that, your favorite show is on! I know you don’t want to miss it!”
Step 2. Distraction
“I made some dinner for you. I know you must be hungry, since we all started the day at 6am.” fake laugh
(I’m the only one who started at 6am)
Step 3. Escape
“Oh look who’s home! The man who has his drivers license and can take you to…McD’s Play Land! Yay! Get him!“
They’ll swarm the unsuspecting redneck like a pack of wild dogs and I can make my escape out the door with a semi-realistic cover.
I’ll say offhandedly, “Hun, I’ve got to run to…(insert whatever fits) the grocery, laundromat, loony bin, nearest bar, hair dresser, etc and then…I’ll RUN AWAY.
I’ll run away laughing so the redneck becomes aware of what just happened but with no time in which to retaliate. Hey, it could work.
“Tell me I’m clever, Tell me I’m kind, Tell me I’m talented, Tell me I’m cute, Tell me I’m sensitive, Graceful and wise, Tell me I’m perfect – But tell me the truth.” By Shel Silverstein
Nah, just lie to me. I like it better. ;)
- Plinky Prompts The Never to See on TV: NaNoWriMo Negotiator
- Apply the all natural ingredients of our semi-transparent mask to your face
- Hold your breath
- Wait ten minutes for it to harden
- Unexpected sheet shaking invitations and it stops the idea-before it happens
- Young children and their devious machinations-boys and girls, in their tracks
- Surprise visits from those relatives who were "just in the neighborhood."
"Hey! I'm talking to you, did you hear me? I just said. Your son. Rang my doorbells. For the third time. Now if you want any sheet shaking to happen-ever again-you need to talk to him right now! Are you listening to me? Helloo?"
Hi, I'm CeeLee, and if you're anything like me, November is a tough month. What with Thanksgiving, the speed inspired writing of NaNoWriMo, and the rest of the holiday season staring up at you from the dark recesses of your wallet, well you need all the help you can get. Having to deal with the constant interruptions from loved ones, pets, bosses, and deadlines can leave you annoyed and ready to snatch the nearest object to shot-put it at the first thing straying into your path, right? Wrong. It doesn't have to be that way.I have some great news for you!
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It's the revolutionary new way to tell friends and family once and for all not to talk, or come within twenty feet of you-for 30 whole days! It's as simple as 1,2,3.
Guaranteed to be completely safe and absolutely effective against:
How much would you pay to be free from angering your loved ones because your brain is mired within life, death, and the heated struggle between a man and a Yeti? One hundred? Two hundred? Call today and you get the Negotiator for three easy payments of 19.99! And that's not all! We're throwing in three of our most effective door signs, completely free. Hang one on the front door, the back door, and the door to your office. Isn't it time to scare your NaNoWriMo woes away?
If mask is worn longer than 24 hours, please seek medical attention
Not suitable in households with people recovering from a heart attack
Not intended for use in children under the age of 18
May cause nervous twitches and other abnormalities; explosive outbursts, and lunacy
- Dear Mom, About The Stuff I Should've Told You
Do you remember the time I found that dead garter snake in the creek and brought it home? So, about that. Okay. Full confession. I waited patiently for what felt like hours that hot summer day, just so I could coil it carefully (more lifelike) in the middle of the old camp chair of yours. The one with the plastic caning that belled downward from age? Yeah. I waited and plotted and barely hid my chuckles of anticipation for when you came back outside with your sun tea and I hoped, would be momentarily blind from the sun, so you wouldn't see the snake until you sat on it. You did see it before you sat, but just barely. Remember that? I'm real sorry.
And the time(s) I snuck into the bathroom while you were taking a hot shower and perched precariously on the toilet lid to pour an entire economy sized pitcher overflowing with ice cubes and water, over the top of the shower rod and down onto your poor unsuspecting head and body before I ran like hell? Well...I tried to run like hell but being bent over double from laughing did hinder my athleticism. Right. How could you forget? Back to the point, I'm really sorry about that too. Really, really sorry. Please forgive me.
Mom, please forgive your eldest daughter, I beg you. Because the curse you placed on me worked. Because I have a child just like I used to be and even worse, he's a boy. A boy who is terrorizing me to the point of jumping at shadows, having to forgo taking showers because our bathroom door doesn't lock at the moment and he has loud gas, an arsenal of Nerf guns at the ready, and I smell ripe and we all could use a little more sleep...did I mention he's a boy? I'm sorry! Just make it stop!
Your loving and ever remorseful daughter
- Public Speaking Is About Burlap Sacks And Wildcats
Public Speaking is Easy...Really?
I'll never forget it. 6th grade. The year I found out that my clothing choices weren't in style because they weren't bearing designer labels like the rest of my classmates. That having to wear glasses classified me as a nerd, even if my grades didn't reflect that classification. And they most assuredly didn't. The year my hair started spouting oil and my skin revolted. The year I realized I abhorred public speaking.
Despite all the aforementioned winning qualities, none of them spared me from having to stand up in my non-designer wardrobe, with my oily-hair and skin on a blemish-free strike, to address an entire room filled with my whispering and laughing peers. For a grade. A grade I had to have unless I liked 6th grade so much that I would remain there. Forever. It was a hard choice to make.
"Do I hear 100, 100, 100-yes! Now gimme 150, 150, 150-sold!"
I still have nightmares about that day. Trying to appear composed while standing (trembling noticeably) there, not even so much as a podium to hide behind, my eyes anywhere but where they were supposed to be (making eye contact with my audience) and mumbling the speech that I would have sworn I memorized 10 ways to Sunday, but apparently hadn't. Had I decided to go for the world's record fastest speech given, I may have stood a shot at the top 3 and probably could have gone on to having a solid career as a auctioneer. But as for the grade, well...let's just say I squeaked through without an inch of room to spare. Yeah.
Public speaking for me as easy as..."Giving a cat a bath successfully is like trying to put a wildcat in a burlap sack...." Funny how that can be used to fit a lot of different things. Try to make a kid take a shower before we have to leave, try making a redneck wear something other than the T-shirt (non-designer) that's not full of holes from a welder's torch, or trying to get some peace and quiet. Don't believe me? No problem. Just go grab a burlap sack and...
- From A to Z For You And Me
Absolutely I remember my first real love.
Bittersweet are those memories, and not a single one faded despite so many years that have gone by.
Caught by surprise, I had no chance to politely refuse your spontaneous hug after our tentative meet and greet done over a game of pool.
Dammit, I wanted to slip from my grasp but I didn't.
Even now I can recall your incredibly obnoxious laughter and how contagious it was.
Funny how it all too quickly became natural to want to be around you and you me.
God only knows, but I do believe I fell in love you on our second date that you brought coffee to but none for me because you were so nervous.
How amazing was it, to realize and then admit, our feelings for the other and how relieving to know it was mutual.
I won't regret out eventual parting of ways some years later, if it hadn't happened I wouldn't have ever gotten to the place I am now.
June and July are the months that stick out most clearly in my mind and you know why.
Karma was what I wished would catch up to you, after you ended things so badly, though I don't blame you anymore.
Love was what both of us were able to explore together and define our own terms.
My family loved you on first sight, and privately begged me not to let you get away.
Nickelback was always on the radio back then and we cranked it, pretending we were badasses and we weren't anything of the sort.
Outdoors was the only place you could find us during the summer, only you tanned and I burned, every damn time.
Priorities straight, I decided to go to school and you became my study buddy though you weren't in school with me.
Quiet wasn't how I preferred to study, medical terms just didn't seem to have as much retention if spoken aloud without Metallica in the background.
Reminiscing over those long ago days no longer hurts like it did, it just makes me smile (and cringe in some spots) and I hope it does for you too.
Silly as we both got after too little sleep, we rarely fought and when we did, we still ended up in bed at the end of the day-together.
The days always saw me running late, hair on end, and sweet talking the parking attendant in the garage next to school into letting me in-free.
Uniforms that bore the black ink splotches from my ball point pens being washed with them and looking very much like a Dalmatian were apparently my style, whiteout to paint over them was something I always carried with me and never failed to make you crack up when seeing me do so.
Vehemently you denied the problem to which I know you had and weren't willing to break , not without the help of my hand across your face when I caught you.
When it was over, really over this time, I thought I'd never stop crying.
X-rays of the impacted wisdom teeth I had to have cut out with only a local anesthetic and made you worry over my poor swollen face; I found them just the other day.
Yakety, yakety I know, but I couldn't find a better word to describe how we tend to get when we talk now, after all the time and the pain has finally healed.
Zoo is what we both have in the way of families, we definitely have an abundance of pets and kids even if our dream of being together til the end of our time never happened.