Why is Madison so awesome? She’s always giving away awesome stuff on her blog. Click on the picture to check out her giveaway of this awesome outfit from Dreamworld Collections!
She makes Cayman look pretty good XD
Sayonara for now,
Well, I’ve been putting off this post for a while. But the truth is, you only get to introduce a new character once.
Yup, I got a new doll! And yup again, I got her from eBay – even though she was retired, I found a Cecile NIB for MSRP. I jumped on the opportunity. She even came with her accessories. Let’s put our hands together for the newest addition to the SSD gang:
Cayman is a real reason to praise God every day, because the way I got her is such a miracle, and she’s so goregous and photogenic.
But with Cayman’s arrival, I had to make a decision. Where was I going with my dolls’ story? I knew I didn’t want them to be orphans. I also knew that no parent in their right mind would just let their child live with other random people. So I came up with a solution that satisfies all my problems.
Yes, it’s a series. But it doesn’t have a cutoff date – and it probably never will. I have enough story planned out for at least eight or nine parts, though, so that should sustain me until the summer, when CCA will adjourn for the summer (and the dolls will have some adventures on their own).
So, let’s get into it! Enjoy and let me know what you think.
I’m sitting on my bed, staring off into space, thinking about the math problems I should probably be finishing. But I’ve worked on it for two hours now, and I’ve written enough multiplication signs to cross-stitch an afghan. If I do any more math tonight, I’ll end up not caring, and if I don’t care about something, I don’t give it my all.
Besides, it’s almost midnight, and any other sane person would be asleep. Not me. I’m waiting for my dad, even though my mom doesn’t know it.
I sit up when I hear the front door close downstairs. Dad’s finally home from work. He’s a neurosurgeon, so there isn’t any telling when he works. It always seems like people have a crainial emergency at night, though, so he’s pulled so many all-nighters that both he and I have lost count.
I owe a lot to him. He’s the one who’s taught me to love science, to love exploring the intricacies of what God has made. It’s what he lives for, what he does all day – and what I hope to do in life, too. Well, not neurosurgery, but chemistry. They’ve got to need a chemist somewhere in the world.
“I’m finally home,” he says. I hear him set his briefcase on the floor as my mom scoots out from the breakfast bar. When I last saw her, she’d been looking at a large reference book. She can’t help it – she’s a librarian and sees tons of books that interest her every day.
“I’m so glad,” she says. I bet he’s sitting down now, his arm around her shoulder, as usual.
“What’s that?” Dad says.
“Read it,” she replies. I furrow my brows. The reference book?
There’s a long pause as he skims through whatever it is Mom handed him.
“It came in the mail?” he asks at last.
“Mmhmm. What do you think?”
Another pause. “You’re not suggesting this for Cayman, are you?”
Instantly, I’m listening harder. Suggesting what for me?
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Mom says. I can almost hear the dimple in her cheek in her voice. She gets that dimple when she’s triumphant. “I think it’d be good for her.”
“But isn’t she a little too good for this?” Dad asks. If I could telepathically bring whatever it is that she showed him, I would in the blink of an eye. “She’s crazy smart. You know that.”
“Crazy smart in science, Ben.”
They’re silent for awhile. I hear the sound of him fingering crinkly paper – the same crinkly paper the report cards are printed on at my school.
I blush. Great. Now Dad gets to see that two fat Cs I brought home from school today, one for English and one for History. It’s no secret now that I hate reading, and when I hate something, I don’t give it my all.
“These are Cayman’s?” he says. I cringe.
“Mmm-hmm,” Mom says. “She’s never going to go anywhere with grades like that.”
I stare down at my desk. My microscope is dutifully waiting for me, my laptop humming comfortably, ready to work. The little beakers and test tubes I’ve collected stand at attention. But I reach past them.
I pick up my yellow folder that holds all my homework, compelled to see if my skills are as bad as my report card says. I rifle through the pages, skipping past the dreaded math problems and the science project I’ve been working on. Reality stares me down as I read the essay I wrote for English – if you can even call it that.
It’s only four sentences – not five paragraphs. It kind of goes in circles. It says the same thing over and over again. One of the sentences starts with “and”, which is a big no-no. And I used a contradiction or whatever it’s called. It stinks, and I know it. I hate English, and I know I don’t put any effort into learning it. But now I wish I’d worked harder, maybe gotten a B.
I set the paper in my lap, biting my lip. But what was Mom suggesting I should do about it?
I hear Dad sigh. “I almost can’t believe it.”
“Neither could I. But it says here in the brocheure that they take students with learning struggles as well as gifted and talented.”
“Good thing she’s both.” Dad and Mom both laugh. Leave it to him to make a situation like this slightly humorous. I even chuckle, just a bit.
“Well?” Mom asks.
“I trust that you know what you’re doing, especially in English,” Dad says. “But it’s so far away…”
Far away? Far away where? I try to piece things together. They’re talking about grades, learning and travelling. It can only mean one thing, one thing I saw flit through the mail slot this afternoon. A blue brocheure had stared up at me from the floor, its bright letters advertising – CAPE CORAL ACADEMY.
I had picked it up, just because coral was my favorite color, and flipped through it. It was a boarding school in Florida that was highly esteemed and awarded with tons of government money. As a result, it had amazing teachers (meh), a nice facility (okay) and private dorms for all the students (not so bad). But it was a billion miles away, practically, and every picture in the brochuere had featured a girl with glasses and braids reading a thick, dusty book. Oh, fun.
And now there was a possible outcome (to use a science term) involving my going there.
I sink down on my bed, letting out a sigh. This could end up being the worst thing that ever happened to me. I would be thousands of miles away from my parents, wearing glasses and a knife-pleated tartan skirt, and being forced to like literature. I bite down on my lip harder. Out of all the addresses that brocheure could have been delivered to, why did it have to be ours? Out of the millions of bookish people in the US, why did they have to pick the one person who didn’t care about English? What are the odds? Why did it have to be me?
I hear Dad stand up. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“As will I,” says Mom. “But I’m thinking it’s the right thing to do.”
“Mari,” says Dad. I smile, just a bit. I love to hear him call my mom Mari. Her real name is Mariella, but Mari just sounds so much more fun than Mariella. “We’ll have to pray about it. That’s the right thing to do.”
“You’re so right,” she replies. I hear the bar stools scoot out as the lump in my throat gets bigger.
This can’t be God’s plan for me.
I glance down at the necklace hanging around my neck. I’ve had it ever since I was six. Dad gave it to me as a birthday present, but that’s not the only reason I like it so much.
Unclasping it, I finger the chain, letting the pendant swing between my hands.
I can hear Dad’s voice as I stare at the pearl in the brass setting. “You know where pearls come from, right, Lizard?”
I hadgiggled. He calls me Lizard, because my middle name’s Elizabeth and because a caiman is a little alligator-lizard reptile. “No, Daddy,” I’d said.
“This right here” (he’d rubbed his thumb on the smooth, round pearl) “came from inside a clam.”
“A clam? Really?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He’d clasped it around my neck. “The ‘scientific’ view on pearls is that they’re something that just happens. But I know that nothing ever happens for no reason.”
“Because God made it?”
“Because God made it.” He had smiled. “This necklace is to remind you of that – God doesn’t make things happen for no reason. God always has a plan for you. And his plan is the only plan that’s going to happen.”
I’m staring out into space, remembering that.
If this whole boarding school thing is God’s will, there’s nothing I can do but go with it.
But I hope it’s not. I don’t want to have to go off to Florida, away from my friends and family, just because I can’t do my English.
Later, I’m slowly drifting off to sleep, the necklace in my hand. The last words I say before I close my eyes are, “Dear God, please make me better at English.”
I had a great lighting setup this time involving a lamp with its shade removed, so I’m really proud of the photos in this episode. I think my photography is slowly getting better. It’ll never be DWOD or SDIABW level, but it’s good as far as I’m concerned.
I’d really like to know what you guys think of this series so far. The other dolls have parts later, don’t worry. 😉
Let me know what you think – are you interested to see what parts the other dolls play? And is Cayman not the most photogenic doll ever?
Sayonara for now,
You know those create-your-own dolls, those magmum opuses of customization, those awesomely fun beautiful all-your-own dollie creations.
Madi is giving one away.
(PS: New content is still coming. :D)
*stops loud tobyMac*
*takes earbud out*
There is new content coming, guys, I promise, but it may take a while. Just be still and patient and it will come in the form of new vignettes for each of my dolls. Yay! But I warn you, these are the longest bios you have seen on a blog site – not just favourite colours and how they love pumpkin spice lattes. We’re going deep.
I’M LETTIN’ GO!
Aestival, btdubs, means ‘of or pertaining to summer’. As it is still technically summer, I couldn’t put a fall theme to this post, so I looked for a pretty word to add to Autumn’s name. Not only is ‘aestival’ nice to look at, it works well here.
When I did The Grand Turnover, I changed Autumn’s character a lot. But I just realised that I never said anything about her new personality – so here’s a photoshoot (similar to Fearless – #sorrynotsorry) to re-introduce her.
Maybe it’s the red hair. Maybe it’s the Irish blood that I got it from. Whatever it is that makes me who I am, it definitely makes me stand out in the crowd.
You know it’s me when you see a talented girl with great fashion sense and even greater poise. Her chin is up, her eyes are open, and her mouth is set in an intrepid smile.
She never looks back, this girl. She just keeps going and lets everything that trys to tear her down slide off her positive demeanor.
This girl’s a visionary, a leader of her friends. Charm and charisma come naturally to her. Her confidence helps both her and everyone around her succeed.
Sometimes, that confidence gets the better of her. Sometimes she lets her pride and willfullness get to her head. But she never cries over what she can’t change.
One day, she’ll be the unfailing beacon that many can look to for guidance. Until then, she’ll keep doing what she does best – steering herself and everyone around her to achievement.
They call her Autumn Adair.
At first glance, Autumn might sound a lot like Kaori. But whereas Autumn is social, fashion-forward and bossy, Kaori is not.
Bonus pictures (click to make them bigger):
What do you think of Autumn? Does she remind you of anyone you know? Which of your dolls is most like her?
Disclaimer: some of these photos are really good and some are really awful.
As I watch the car drive away, I try to calm myself down by going over what had happened in the past week.
“Let’s see,” I said aloud. “I left SFO on Monday, layed over in Denver for three hours, and finally reached DFW Monday night. Well, I actually guess it was Tuesday morning. I rode a bus from there to here. And then this morning I caught an Uber car ride to where I am now. Which is a mile away from where I’m supposed to be right now until everything blows over.”
I sigh. Dad never said when that would be. But it isn’t like it’s clear. The media is fickle. Sometimes, they leave something behind in a week, and sometimes they obsess over it for half a year.
I hope it’ll be more of the first kind and I can go home in two weeks.
I start to walk, not really wanting to, but knowing that I’ve got to. My mind wanders back home as my boots squeak on the drying pavement.
My phone interrupts my thoughts.
I whip it out. Usually, I’m not this tech-crazy, but for the past few days, anything from my family is read in about 3.5 seconds.
I already miss Akio, my cousin. I miss my mom and dad. I miss everyone I knew.
I start to text-walk. It’s not a good idea, and I know it, but I’m a bit desperate. Suddenly, I trip over something. I look down.
There’s this weird little bag on the pavement. It’s got kind of an alligator texture and is the most gaudy pattern I’ve ever seen.
I stumble, catch myself, and glare at it. Is it a bomb?
Then I feel someone watching me. I turn around.
There’s a little girl looking at me. She looks almost like some kind of siren in alluring shades of green and blue. I make a mental note to borrow her fashion choices for my comics. Yakisoba might look good in that.
We stare at eachother for a couple of minutes.
Then I call, “Is this yours?”
She skips over. Her little rainboots have goofy frog faces on them. Or are they fish?
“Yeah,” she says. Her voice has a tinge of mischief in it. “Thanks for finding it.”
“You’re welcome. What are you doing here?”
“Well…” She rocks back on her rubber heels. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure,” I reply with a shrug.
She leans in and whispers, “I had a babysitter, but I got rid of her.”
Wow. That was…interesting. “Where are you going then?”
“I’m going to visit my older sister, Issa. Do you wanna come?”
Even more interesting. “Um.”
“She’d like you.”
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s her big blue eyes with that adorable little freckle underneath the left one. Maybe it’s that I need a place to stay tonight.
“Alright,” I say. “Lead the way?”
She giggles. “But I don’t even know your name!”
“Well, I don’t know yours, either.”
“My name’s Camille Fauncewater. Now will you tell me what your name is?”
“Kaori. Kaori Sasaki.”
“Ka – what?”
I laugh. “It’s Japanese. Ka-or-i Sa-sa-ki.”
I decide not to push it. “Aren’t we going somewhere?”
“Yup!” she says. “My sister is really going to like you.”
“I hope so,” I mutter. “I don’t play well with others, usually.”
She doesn’t hear me. Maybe that’s a good thing.
Yes, I received a Wellie Wisher as a gift! Camille is so adorable and I can’t wait to take more photos of her.
IMHO, the last photo is one of the best photos I’ve ever taken. Period.
Let me know what you think – are you excited to see how things will pan out for Kaori and Camille?
I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone like me.
I wonder why that is?
Maybe it’s that not everyone is as daring as I am.
Maybe not everyone thinks that everything is the opportunity for more adventures and experiences.
Maybe not everyone likes the idea of standing on nothing but their own two feet.
Maybe not everyone tests their limits. Maybe not everyone pushes themselves to the max.
Maybe everyone feels comfortable in their niche and never wants to reach for something better.
Maybe not everyone is as stubborn as I am.
I like to call it constancy, though.
My name is Kaori Sasaki, and I’m about to change the world.
I am so happy to welcome Kaori from eBay into the Silver Sky Dolls family! She is a GOTY 2006 Jess McConnell, purchased for only $61. Though she’s used, she has a brand new head from the Doll Hospital, so she’s almost in mint condition.
What do you think of her? Are you getting the doll wants again?
Written by Tess. Inspired by God.
Finding Light in the Journey of Life
Joy Indescribable, Hope Unspeakable