Round II

October 28th, 2005 by C.A. Dubois

I waited until dark before following that damned map she left. She was right. There were only 2 or so hours before the darkness came. It was demon dark in the trees. I really hate it when she is right.

If I thought I’d worry her by not joining her before dark, I was wrong. One minute I am stumbling through the dark in a thick second or third growth forest, the next I burst through the tree line to find a paved road. The map said to follow the road south. I turned north. A half a mile down the road, I saw her lying casually on a huge rock. A rock that sat just behind a large, log arch covering a dirt road of some sort.

Seeing her sent me through the roof. It meant the entire map that I had purposely followed incorrectly had been set up KNOWING I’d follow it incorrectly. That revelation did nothing to brighten my mood.

“I told you it was dark in the trees” Cyl quietly stated. She hadn’t even opened an eye but she knew I was walking closer to her on the roadway. I was glaring at her until I saw the huge “No trespassing” sign on the fence post between the roadway and the rock Cyl was lying over.

“You’re trespassing”

“I’m glad you didn’t listen to my map. If you had, you would have ended up in the spring swamp. THAT would have sucked!” She giggled.

“Are you intentionally ignoring me, or are you just that dumb?” I growled. I had walked to where I stood directly in front of the No Trespassing sign and behind it, Cyl. “It says NO trespassing.”

“I am neither.”

I blinked. “You are neither what?”

“I am neither ignoring you nor dumb.”

“You’re trespassing…..” I pointed to the sign. Cyl sat up and looked at me with a shocked face.

“Is there a no trespassing sign there?” She slid off the rock and walked to the fence. Leaning over it she looked at the sign. When she stood upright again she was grinning from ear to ear. “That is so cool!!!” She crooned. Suddenly she swung her leg through the two strands of barbed wire and carefully slid her body through the fence. She stood next to me and crossed her arms over her chest. “My first no trespassing sign and I didn’t even notice it!” She looked up to me and she truly did look in awe. “Wow!”

“Your no trespassing sign?” I asked her. I knew of the area we were in. I had visited Cyl once while she lived in Montana. So I knew that this was not her sign, or her property.

“Come on,” She tugged at my arm slightly and walked through the log archway. When I didn’t follow she turned around. “You gonna stand there all night?”

“Cyl, enough already. You’ve made your point. You’ve played the shaman game. Now let’s go home.”

Cyl froze. In the darkness I could see her squinting her eyes towards me. When I saw her take her left pointer finger and run her fingernail across her lips like she does, I knew she was dissecting my statement. “And what point is that David?”

I hate it when she gets like this. When she gets like that, it is as if you are trying your case before the Goddamned Supreme Court. I HATE IT.

“I got it Cyl. You knew I needed to get away from everything for a while. So you arranged for this little nature jaunt. I’ve jaunted, now lets just go home.” Cyl’s eyes never left mine. “Please…” I softened my tone some.

Cyl shrugged her shoulder high into the air and held both hands out from her side, palm up. “EEEEEEHHHHHHH …sorry …wrong answer!” she said in her, ‘game show voice’ as she calls it. “Thank you for playing, next contestant, please….” Then she rested her hands on her hips, cocked her head to one side and winked at me as she smiled.

For one brilliant moment, I thought about shooting her. I can’t impress upon you how annoying she is when she is like this. Her air of confidence is stifling – and infuriating. I started to say something but she cut me off. She walked forward, snatched my hand and began tugging me along behind her.

“Look sweets, if there is a ‘shaman game’ I don’t know about it, so I promise, I ain’t playing it. I also do *not* think you need anymore time away! What you *need* is to come back….” I snatched my arm from her hand.

“What the HELL are you talking about? God Damnit Cylithria Alania Dubois….”

“Sutterland…you forgot my last name….Sutterland.” she interrupted me. She stood there grinning at me. It only infuriated me more.

“YOU are making no sense Cyl, none – nada – not one iota….do you hear me?” I yelled.

“People in China hear you,” she said softly, “None of us believe you.” She informed me happily. Then she reached out and snatched my hand again. “So for now you are coming with me.” She announced as she pulled me forward two steps.

I while yanking my hand free, I shoved her slightly. Cyl skillfully remained balanced as she whirled around to face me. Her hands were back on her hips, her head was cocked to one side and she wore that infuriatingly stupid grin. “Okay….” She sighed. “We’ll play this your way. Go ahead…yell…..”

I took the deepest, longest breath of my life and forced myself not to give in to her know it all attitude. I spoke slowly as I exhaled. “I am not going to yell….That would serve no purpose.”

“You’re right!” she agreed with a bigger smile.

“But…” I levied back at her. “At some point you have to listen to reason. You must think logically.”

Cyl’s finger went to her lips and I saw her attitude change. Gone was her perky listening mood, back was her ‘supreme court’ mode. “Go on….”

I relaxed the fists I had hidden in my pockets. “Cyl, I appreciate this…I truly do…but right now…this is not the time to whisk me away to one of your favorite hidey holes.” Cyl said nothing. She watched me closely and continued running her fingernail over her lips. I took another breath, forcing myself to speak carefully. “While I realize you are attempting to alleviate some of my stress,” I began. “This is not exactly helping matters any. If you would like me to be less stressed, we need return to my parent’s farm, and to Timothy.” I reasoned.

“Your parents don’t have a farm. Your parents are dead.” She instantly stated.

My blood pressure began soaring through the roof. My hidden fists returned. “I know they are dead. That is why we must return to their farm.”

“They don’t have a farm. You can’t own property if your dead David.” She stated gently.

“THIS IS RIDICULOUS!”

Cyl smiled. She nodded and grabbed for my arm. “You’re right it is, but that’s okay. Come on…” She coaxed as she pulled me along behind her.

I yanked free. Taking two steps back, I allowed my rage to encompass me. “What the hell do you think you are doing? You’re insane, do you hear me? YOU – ARE – INSANE!” Cyl stopped and turned to watch me. The smile never left her face.

“Your whole life has been insane. You have no concept of reality, no concept of what life is truly like, no concept of anything remotely normally. You are an insane, egotistical, obnoxious, excuse for a human being and you stand there smiling at me?”

“Is it *wrong* to smile at you? Hummmm, pity.” She shrugged her shoulders and her grin grew larger.

Her entire demeanor illustrated my point. “See what I mean? Look at you. Will you just take a good look at yourself? You’re……you just…..You’re….” Watching her smile threw off my train of thought. I turned my eyes into the darkness behind her. “Damn, you’re fucking weird….nobody does this anymore Cyl. Nobody kidnaps someone and takes them away, into the woods and mountains to help them through a hard time…..and your trespassing on God knows who’s property, and your standing there acting like none of what I said matters……you’re a weirdo.” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “You just let your husband walk down a mountain in a fucking Armani Suit for Christ’s sake!”

My chest was heaving and my head ached from the throbbing vein I could feel just above my left eye. I looked up and damned if she wasn’t standing there – still smiling! She didn’t get it. She didn’t comprehend one word of what I had just said. I could tell by the simple, sweet, smile on her face.

I sat down with my back to her. Suit or not, I needed to sit down. Seeing her face, knowing she didn’t understand, despite her genius like mind, she couldn’t comprehend – and that, and that alone was enough to take the fuel out of my rage. I heard myself talking softly into the night.

“You’ve never understood stuff like this Cyli Girl. You’ve always been so damned weird. You’re the weirdest thing I’ve ever met.” I confessed into the darkness. “And we all knew you were too….too much like you are to really make it in this world alone…that’s why we’ve always been so protective – Why I’ve been so protective of you.”

I stopped talking then. I could feel she wasn’t really hearing me.

In a moment Cyl walked around so that she was stooping in front of me. “Bet it sucks, to be this frustrated.” She said in her classic Cyli voice. That voice is always so certain, so positive, so uplifting. It *will* make you smile even at the worst of moments.

“Yeah, it sucks.” I agreed as I tried not to give into the smile I felt. I looked at her as she knelt there in front of me. Her hands balancing on her knee’s as she balanced her weight on her tiny feet – and damned if she wasn’t still smiling. “If you only knew” I muttered.

“Oh I do know. I’d be pretty frustrated too if I was too stupid to ask *WHY* I was brought all the way out here.” She announced with an altruistic clarity to her voice.

I blinked.

“I mean, call me a weirdo and all, but all you’ve asked all along is “where”, you never once asked why.” Her eyes flashed with an arrogant glint of ‘gotcha’.

I wanted to smack her. Again.

She shrugged her shoulders and stood up. “I’m heading in, you coming?” she said as she took a step in towards the property. I reached up and snagged her hand.

“Why?” I demanded.

That’s when her smile faded away. Cyl’s face grew serious, deadly serious and her eyes bore down upon mine. “To Touch the Face of God, David – *that* is why I brought you here.”

She walked away leaving me ready to explode.

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Rage

October 27th, 2005 by C.A. Dubois

If it weren’t so late, if it wasn’t illegal, if I weren’t so pissed; I’d strangle her. I can’t strangle her though. Right now she has the upper hand.

Cyl gave me free use of her laptop. She said I could post “any damn thing you want…even if it’s about me. Just because you post it don’t make it true, so give it your best shot – dare ya!”.

Don’t ever dare me Cyl. I’m not one of those wimpy guys who back down from you just because you have an attitude. Besides, if I could access my email and my blogger password, I’d post this on my own blog. So for now we’ll call it good and I’ll post where I can. Of course, as I write this I have no access to the web. If I do get access, I will post this. Until then, I thought someone should know the woman I am really married to. She ain’t all peaches and cream folks.

Since the death of my parents, Cyl has tried in her twisted, unique way to be supportive of my family and I. Cyl’s always been different. I didn’t expect her to suddenly begin acting like most other’s do, but this was the death of my parents. I thought she could act slightly compassionate?

We were staying on mom and dad’s farm. My son has been living there for the last two years. Yes, Timothy is my son. Yes, I didn’t (nor did Cyl) divulge that information previously. Yes, Cyl hadn’t been told by me that Timothy was actually my son and not my nephew. Yes, when I did finally attempt to tell her, she knew it already. Yes, I lied to my wife. I’d do it again to protect my son. In my hometown he will continue to be known as my nephew, and NO, I’m not explaining anything else about my son. Except Cyl did know almost all along Timothy was my son and she lied to me the entire time.

Unbelievable.

Staying on Mom and Dad’s farm was for more reasons then just my son. Someone has to handle the daily work there now. Not to mention affairs of their estates, and every other goddamned thing you can imagine after two people die suddenly. So how does Cyl in all of her brilliance aid me in these monumental tasks? She kidnaps me.

Zero One Hundred Hours Cyl comes into our room and wakes me. She asks me to quickly dress, we have to go somewhere. I’ve never known my wife to pull a stunt like the one she was about to perpetrate, so I did as requested. I thought something was wrong.

We arrive at a small airport. That’s when I tried to find out what was going on. “We have to go, come on, hurry up” was all I could manage to get from her at first. When I refused to budge, she did something that I do not recall ever seeing her do before. She pulled the old, “if you love me” trick.

At that point, I did think I loved her. I complied. I found myself in Chicago, and then at the commercial airport there. From Chicago, through some sort of “ticketing mix up” (so Cyl claims) we end up in Salt Lake City, Utah. She claims she posted some of her antics on her blog. If you read them, I assure you, they were not funny in the least bit. Furious would not begin to describe how I felt.

To others, her antics may be cute, funny, comedic, humorous or even hysterical. It’s not, trust me. No matter how much I protested or bitched, she smiled and kept at it. I’d swear she was purposely trying to piss me off.

Finally our flights were rescheduled and I found myself landing in Spokane, Washington. From there Cyl picked up a pick up truck she arranged to rent and began driving – east. We stopped in a hotel in Idaho, slept and continued the drive the next morning. That is when we drove over the steep mountains and into North Western Montana.

Through out this entire process of travel, no matter how much or how stringently I inquired as to our destination, all Cyl would say was, “It’s a surprise, you’ll see.”

The morning we arrived in Montana, in a town I will name Podunkville; Cyl became even more quiet and elusive. We stopped at the only gas station in Podunkville and low and behold if Cyl doesn’t know the lady behind the counter. I was subjected to watching as I pumped gas, Cyl hugging and smiling and happily chattering away. When I entered the 2’X4’ excuse for a gas station store, all the smiles stopped and I was quickly introduced and dismissed.

Cyl returns to the truck, drives up the mountain base to a small house, the house of the gas station woman, and proceeds to inform me “we will shower and change here and make a few calls and then head back out”.

I can’t put to words how angry, frustrated and edgy I was by this point. Suffice to say, if I could have slapped her, I probably would have. I couldn’t though, my mother taught me better. So I showered and called home to check on Timothy.

But did things get better after the shower? No. Cyl took off for almost an hour, leaving me in the home of a strange lady who works in the local gas station/feed and seed in Podunkville. I sat in the house waiting and seething. I never heard the truck return, but suddenly Cyl walked back in and smiled as brightly as if none of this nightmare had ever occurred.

“You ready?”

I nodded.

“Okay, we can head out now. But first,” Cyl produces a large black scarf. “You have to promise to wear this until I say, okay?”

“You’re not blindfolding me.”

Cyl sat down. “Then we stay right here until you let me blindfold you.”

I argued. She refused to compromise. We sat, for almost three hours. When it became apparent that this insane woman would not leave unless I was blindfolded and gave my word not to “peek” I gave in. I gave in only for one reason, to see whatever the hell it was she wanted to surprise me with and then to leave, immediately.

Being blindfolded in a pick up truck that is going down back country mountains roads with my wife driving is not fun. First, after two or three turns like she makes, you loose all sense of direction. Second, you do not know when to brace yourself so you are jostled all over the cab of the truck. And Thirdly, Cyl ignores you when you’re blindfolded – she doesn’t say a word.

The last ten minutes of her drive I cursed her, aloud. I may not have been able to tell where I was, but I knew when Cyl had gone from country road driving to four wheeling up the side of a mountain. I promise you, I was not kind with my insults. If she was upset, she did nothing to indicate it.

Finally I felt the truck lurch to a stop. The keys in the ignition turned and the world was silent. If I hadn’t smelled Cyl’s perfume, I’d have wondered if she was still in the truck – we sat so long in the silence.

“I wish you had changed into the jeans I brought for you David.” She whispered. I felt her hand touch my arm lightly. I pulled away. I was in no mood for sweet talk.

“I’m fine the way I’m dressed. Are you ashamed of my suit now Cyl?”

“No,” Cyl giggled. “I bought it. It’s an Armani, nobody is ashamed of a suit by Armani.”

“Whatever…can I take this damn thing off yet?” I reached for the blindfold. Cyl’s hand stopped mine.

“No David, not yet.”

Cyl sighed. I waited. New fury was building in the pit of my stomach and I focused on that instead of the silence. I heard Cyl get out of the truck, and in a few moments I felt my truck door being opened. She reached in, undid my seatbelt and reached for my hand.

“Come with me.”

Carefully she walked me away from the pick up. I could tell we were not in an open field. Cyl guided me over obstacle after obstacle until finally, we stopped. Cyl let go of my hand. I shoved my hands in my pockets. By now I knew she’d take the blindfold off when she wanted to and not one moment before. “Have a seat” she offered, helping me to sit on what I believed to be a fallen tree of some sort. I heard her moving around me, but I was infuriated with her, so I tried to ignore her.

I could smell the heavy scent of woodlands. The air felt slightly damp and cool. And I could hear a wind blowing although we must have been sheltered from it in some way. The entire thing might have been nice had I wanted to be wherever we were in the first place. But I didn’t want to be there. I had no patience left and I was growing agitated by the minute. I don’t know if it was because I was blindfolded or if it was because I was trying to figure out what and where Cyl was in relation to me, but I strained to listen to each and every sound I heard.

I could hear movement. However the movement I heard seemed foreign to where I thought we were. The noise grew fainter. Perhaps it was getting lost within the sound of the wind. “Cyl what is that?” I asked softly.

I waited for an answer, but none came. “Cyl,” I ripped the blindfold off. Cyl was gone. The pick up was gone. I scanned the area. I was now standing on a plateau on the side of a mountain – alone. I could see the grass and limb covered old road that the trucks tires tracks led down. It switched back less then thirty yards from where I stood, sloping downward all the way. When I stepped forward to look down the mountainside for Cyl and the truck I tripped over a small backpack.

She left me.

Those first few seconds, as I realized what she had done, too many emotions passed through me. When I heard the familiar noise of a honking horn, I shook off the shock long enough to look down over the edge of the plateau. Cyl was approximately 75ft below me on the small but abandoned road she obviously drove me up on.

Cyl was sitting on the driver side window of the truck and she had her hands cupped as she yelled up to me. “When you pull your head out of your ass Sutterland, there is a map in the bag. You got about two hours of sunlight left and don’t let the sky fool you. It gets damn dark in the trees. Follow the map and you’ll find me easy as pie. If you get to the river you went too far. And just remember, there are animals out here that will just as soon eat you as put up with your screaming and yelling and pissy ass insults! The next time you call me a ludicrous bitch, I won’t leave a map!”

Rage. Pure, justifiable rage filled me as she flipped me off and then hopped into the driver’s seat and drove off.

The Bitch

-David

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WWFSMD?

October 25th, 2005 by C.A. Dubois

May our noodly master bless you and yours!

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Things to do while extremely bored in an airport

October 25th, 2005 by C.A. Dubois

Being stuck in an airport is one of the worst things you can do to a girl like me. The absolute WORST thing you can do to a girl like me is stick me in a boring airport with an extremely pissed off husband.

So to honor the worst thing to do to me, I thought I’d give you a list of things I have done since getting stuck here and while being snapped at by Pissy Man Hubby.

*Upon learning your stuck in the airport begin singing “The sun will come out tomorrow, bet you’re bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun…….” It is important that you sing this at the top of your voice, with a smile on your face. It instantly shuts up all Pissy Man Hubby’s along with any other bitching flyer. It also assures that the flight scheduling lady behind the counter does her very best to get you on the next available flight out of her airport.

*Wait near counter where Flight scheduling Lady works. Everytime she smiles rush to the counter and say, “did you find a better departing flight for me?” – Take great glee as she shakes her head no and frowns. Hum “The sun will come out tomorrow” as you go back to your waiting post.

*Regretfully comply with security official’s request to take a seat somewhere. Explain “But she told me to check back with her” innocently. Try not to laugh as security official’s give you the “is this woman really that dumb” look.

*Attempt to make cheesy, ‘stuck in airport’ jokes. When Pissy Man Hubby does not respond in kind, lean over to the person seated next to you and mutter “Tough Crowd”.

*become extremely bored. Head outside for one purpose – to look and see if you recognize anybody. Come back in and create the traditional airport security fiasco you always create due to the titanium plate in your arm. Go through the whole security thingy happily. Sit back with Pissy Man Hubby and in fifteen minutes repeat the looking for people you know scenario. Do this for at least 6 trips until you are on a first name basis with the head of security.

* Go into popular yuppie famous coffee franchise because “you just gotta try this stuff sweets”. Stand in line for over ten minutes. When you get to counter ask for two cups of ice – no water. Hand cup of fancy chi chi poo poo ice to Pissy man Hubby and say happily, “These people make the best ICE” watch as Pissy Man Hubby and Yuppie, Latte drinking flyers all stare at you as if you’ve gone mad.

* Head into busy airport shop. Walk around raging bout the insane prices. Head to counter. Stand in line again. Ask for change of a quarter. Watch Pissy Man Hubby tell cashier, “HELL YES SHE IS SERIOUS! JUST GIVE HER THE DAMN CHANGE.” Snicker to self. Thank Stars you are in an Airport where Pissy Man Hubby can NOT threathen to kill you.

*Go to eat. Order a cheesburger with the works minus the meat. Watch dude blink as he repeats back your order. When he questions the lack of meat on your burger say, “Hey doesn’t this place claim I can have it my way?” Watch Pissy Man Hubby still find no humor in my antics. Snicker anyway…something I do will make him laugh.

*Decide you are bored. get out cell phone to make audio blog post telling all your blog buddies about your great list of things to do in airport. Watch as Pissy Man Hubby snatches cell phone from your ear while growling “OH HELL NO…you’re so *not* blogging this.” Pout as your cell phone is locked in his breifcase.

*Go back outside to check for more people you might know. Ask Head of Security how his family is as you return.

*Notice that Pissy Man Hubby is about to blow a vien in his forehead. Decide to settle down and fake checking email. Quickly and hasitly write this post for your blog knowing when he see’s it he will choke you…..decide it is *so* worth it anyway!!

Why Not – Right?

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Spaming Jennifer Exposed and Banned – Why Not – Right?

October 25th, 2005 by C.A. Dubois

Well HELLO THERE Spamming Jennifer. Unfortunately Spamming Jennifer, you picked a really, really bad day to spam me here….see, my hubby has reccently lost his parents. As such he ain’t in the best of mindframes OR moods. As such I kinda sorta kidnapped him last night and I am attemtping to take him to a spot I think will help…..but we’re stuck in a hellacious airport…….. so I hopped online to check my blog and found your spam…..and since he is being really bitchy to me about this trip he knows nothing of……..I’m passing along the bitchyness.

Ain’t that great Spamming Jennifer?

So if any of my blog buddies feel like being particularly razzy today, why not email Spamming Jennifer?? Her Email addy is: JAnderson@yahoo.com and her IP addy is: IP: 66.44.154.140

Yeah spammers *sigh* gotta love the little creatons don’t ya?

Oh wait, no I don’t gotta love em……..

Look lady (and I use that term loosely) don’t spam me…. it would not be wise…..

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