February 5th, 2010 by Cy

Cylithria slowly walks two steps into her blog. Glancing down the un-updated page, she sighs and turns to leave.

“Hi Cylithria,” a voice calls softly.

Cylithria turns. Her eyes turn upwards, her lips curl into a fond, gentle smile. “Hi Little Plant of Hope.” she says before slowly walking across the dusty space that is her blog. Just below the tag line words, “call to duty…” She slows her stride. Slowly, carefully she lowers herself into the inky darkness of her blogs heading. Sitting beside the Little Plant of Hope firmly rooted in the right hand corner, Cylithria gently draws her knees to her chest, crosses her arms over her knees and lays her cheek down so she can look at the little plant.

“Long time no see,” the little plant remarks.

Cylithria smiles sadly. ”Yes, it has been a while – hasn’t it?” she whispers.

For a moment, Cylithria and the handheld Little Plant of Hope sit in silence. It’s an easy silence. The silence of long time friends who’ve been through a lot.

Cylithria stares at the tiny plant nestled in two gentle, cradling hands. Small sprinkles of dirt slip down and land upon Cylithria’s foot. Her smile broadens.

“You were moving slowly when you came in.”  The tiny plant says.

Cylithria nods. “Apparently I have a broken leg.”

“Apparently?”

Cylithria softly snorts, then nods. “Yep. or so they say. It was bugging me, for a few weeks. Doc had me brace it thinking it was knee trouble, but that didn’t really help. couple weeks ago, Doc had the local’s x-ray it…. was looking for possible torn from the bone tendons or something…. they called me this week…. apparently it is a hairline or stress fracture in my  tibia…. from here, to about here,” She explains as she draws an invisible line down the front of her right leg.

“No crutches or cast?” The tiny plant wonders aloud.

Cylithria sighs and rests her chin upon her forearms. “No, not yet. They don’t know what they wanna do. The consultants are consulting with the consultations… or something….” She shrugs.

“Let me guess,” the little plant says in a humorous voice; “You don’t know how you broke it, do you?”

Cylithria finally laughs. “Do I ever?”

Both old friends chuckle. Rarely does she know how she got hurt, pretty typical for Cylithria.

As the silence returns, the Little Plant of Hope gently watches his author friend. In a voice soft and supportive, The Little Plant prods her further. “It must hurt… is that why you’ve been so silent lately?”

Cylithria shakes her head no, then raises her head and nods it. “No…. I mean, yeah… it hurts at times….. nothing I can’t handle though…..but it’s not why I’ve been quiet.”

Cylithria sighs. Then shrugs.

“I know you have things you want to say…. you come here everyday and look. I see you.” The Little Plant offers. Cylithria smiles like a child whose been caught.

“I do come here everyday, and I probably do have things to say…but…..”  Cylithria glances down the page of her blog. Sadness fills her eyes.

“But?” her old friend presses. “Is it me? Are you tired of me?”

Cylithria snickers. “No….. it’s not you…. not at all.” She promises. Shifting slightly, she looks at the Little Plant and tries to explain. “I love my blog. I love blogging….. but lately……” She sighes. The sad streaks fill her eyes. ”I’ve always come here to purge my thoughts, or feelings…. or even my stories…. that’s why I’ve been here daily….. just because when able, I’ve always come here.”

“But when you’ve come before, you’ve written. Even if but to save it in draft, you’ve written. Lately you just come, look for a moment and leave. You haven’t written.” The Little Plant remarks.

Cylithria plops her chin back on her forearms. “I can’t write…. it will upset somebody.” She declares in defeat.

“Who?”

Cylithria shakes her head ever so slightly. “I don’t know who…..” she says in disgust. She looks bewildered, almost amazed as her voice softly streams across her blog. “Whoever wants to feel that my latest blog entry is about them…..” She shrugs. “I guess???”

The Little Plant pauses to consider what she’s said. It isn’t quite making sense to the tiny green friend, so he tries to clarify it. “If you don’t know who, how do you know they are feeling that way? I don’t understand Cylithria?”

Cylithria nods. “I know….. I never know who is going to be affected…. but lately, if i post anything remotely personal, about me, my feelings, my plans or lack thereof, someone who reads this blogs instantly thinks I am speaking somehow about THEM. Then they either comment or email…. all paranoid that I was talking about them. And if I don’t reply immediately, they email again, or text, OR CALL!!!”

Cylithria’s hands suddenly fly out before her knees. She becomes animated. “It’s like all of a sudden, if i say I spoke to someone today who was a prick…. everyone I know starts wondering if I mean THEY are the prick…… even if I didn’t speak to them today!!! It’s fucking……” her hands drop down to her knees and instantly the animated woman becomes lethargic once more. “It’s just…..so….crazy.” She says just as she lies her cheek upon her crossed forearms.

The Little Plant was a bit shocked. “People actually contact you about a blog post, thinking perhaps you were speaking of them?” he asks.

“YES!!!!” Cylithria yelps as she looks at her old friend. “Can you believe that? Isn’t that crazy? And every time it happens, I stare like this,” Cylithria’s eyes grow wide and her mouth drops down to her knees for a moment. “And I think….. REALLY??? REALLY??”

The Little Plant watches as she once more throws frustrated hands into the air. Rolling her eyes, she begins shaking her head slowly, negatively. “Why write jackdoodlyshit if every Tom, Dick, and Harry is going to email, call, text, or message me, suddenly paranoid I am blogging part of their life????”

If the Little Plant had lips, he’d have been smiling. Sometimes his author friend is so funny, in an over-dramatic sort of way. Instead, The Little Plant watches as Cylithria settles back into a restful position.

“What does @TheWocket say?” The Little Plant asks quietly.

Cylithria shrugs. “He says I should just blog what I want.” She pauses. “Of course he isn’t running around trying to ‘figure me out’ either…..” Another shrug. Another would have been smile.

Deciding it was time to slightly shift gears, The Little Plant pauses long enough for Cylithria’s posture to once again relax. “How is @TheWocket doing?”

Cylithria smiles. “He’s…..okay….”

“You say that with some reticence in your voice. Is he okay?” The Little Plant pushes.

Cylithria still wears a smile, albeit a tiny one. “He is okay….. there is a lot going on….. and it’s been crazy….but he is okay.”

“You don’t speak about him much here, unless you are speaking of all your Kansas City friends. Why is that?”

Cylithria’s sad smile returns. “Honestly?” She asks her Little Plant friend. “Because I am tired of the talk, the suppositions, the rumors, the whole,” She flips and wiggles her fingers around in the air; “whooooooooo that goes on about @TheWocket and I.”

The Little Plant watches her closely. “The whooooo?” he asks, mimicking her tone of voice as she’d said it. Cylithria nods.

“Oh yeah, the whooo!” she declares firmly. Her eyes roll and she shakes her head. “I can’t explain it, I just know I keep getting hit with some version of stuff with regards to @TheWocket and everytime I do I am like……….. eh?”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, like reccently I was told how I am running his life!” Cylithria blurts out.

“You are?” The Little Plant repeated.

Cylithria nodded while bearing a disgusted look. “Yep, apparently…. because you know the man has no brain of his own….. he can’t possibly take care of himself or his business without me…. dontcha know….. I mean…..” Cylithria snorts. More eye rolling.

“Why do people do that?” She looked over at her Little Plant of Hope and took a deep breath. “Why do people assume that because I am around, the person in question must have fallen under my evil ploys allowing me to run their life?”

“Perhaps because you are strong?” The Little Plant of Hope offered.

“And @TheWocket isn’t?” She countered angrily.

The Little Plant stared down her angry glare. “Yes, he is. What I meant to say is, perhaps because your support of those you care for is strong…thus they feel you are the catalyst for someone’s decisions?”

“Well, isn’t that what you are supposed to do…. strongly support someone you love?”

“Yes, yes it is.” The Little Plant conceded.

Cylithria nodded. Slowly her hands rubbed at her right leg. “Well it burns my ass. I run his life, yada yada yada……as if anyone could run that man’s life anyway. SweetJavaJesus he is more stubborn then I am….. he just conceals it better!”

The Little Plant of Hope watched her. She shook her head, shook it again and then ran her fingers through her hair before finally settling down.

“I guess I don’t care what they think about me…. at all….. but the fact that they think he’d be so pussified as to let me or any other woman run his life…….. THAT pisses me off!” Cylithria glanced at the tiny plant and her eyes twinkled finally. “I hate it when people don’t give someone credit for their own being.”

“So you keep quiet about him, to protect him.” The Little Plant surmised.

“Yep.” Cylithria smiled. “I guess I do.”

The two friends sat in silence once more. As peace fluttered down upon them, Cylithria returned to her gazing position; her cheek resting on her forearms once more.

Suddenly her eyes lit up. “I’ve missed this place…. and I’ve missed you Little Plant of Hope……”

Sprinkles of dirt fell upon her toes. Cylithria’s smile widened. “I made a good choice when I chose you.” She confessed to her tiny plant friend.

“I’ve missed you too Cylithria. You should come by more often. Even if it’s just to chat with me.” The Little Plant of Hope offered quietly. “It’s too quiet around here without you.”

Cylithria laughed, loudly. “Uh…. that’s probably because I do the writing and you do the….uh……plant…..thing.”

The Little Plant of Hope didn’t move. It didn’t speak, and it didn’t even acknowledge her presence. All of a sudden, what moments before had been the spirit of a good friend, was now just a picture of a little plant, rooted firmly in the dirt held by cradling hands.

Cylithria blinked, and then blinked again.

“Oh Great!!!! Isn’t this just randy…” Cylithria uttered woefully as she slowly stood to her feet. Brushing the dust off her black pants, she looked around sheepishly. “Damn….. ain’t I glad no one spotted me talking to a plant picture……. they’d think me nuts… eh?”

Cylithria stared at the Little Plant of Hope. “Eh?…….Eh?….”

Glancing about once more, Cylithria shook her head, this time at herself. “I’ve lost my rabbitass mind!” She muttered as she slipped away, unnoticed by the blogging world.

Then, and only then; did one finger from one of the cradling hands move. “Ya want me to push the Publish button right boss????”

Sprinkles of dirt sifted to the empty floor beneath the hands as the Little Plant of Hope said only three words, “Why Not – Right?”

@cylithria, life, Little Plant of Hope, Why Not - Right?

December 8th, 2009 by Cy

On Wednesday, November 18th, myself and @TheWocket, @EvilCutie, and @TheHufford started our journey down to BGG.con 09. Just outside of Dallas, at the Weston Hotel in Irving, TX.

What is BGG.con 09 you ask? Why simple my lovelies – It’s the ultimate in Board Game conventions put on by BoardGameGeek.com,  and this year I was honored and highly privileged  to be able to attend it. Not only did I attend, but as I mentioned above, @EvilCutie, @TheHufford, @TheWocket, @NAMG, and @Jstud attended too!

Envision 1000 or so of your closest friends all seated at tables in every corner of space, playing board games of all sorts, types, styles and ages…….. THAT is BGG.Con in a nutshell.  In the picture to the right you can see The Gang: (starting from the fuzzy, orange hat and working counter clockwise) @TheWocket, @TheHufford (His blue shirt is visible behind @TheWocket), @EvilCutie, @NAMG, and @JStud playing a game of Looting London.  Note the obligatory gamer’s snacks and beverages in closed containers at the table. Good Gamers never muck up the game components with greasy fingers or open beverages that could spill and cause drastic damage to expensive games. Aren’t The Gang ever the considerate gamers? Indeed they are….. unless of course we’re playing a different game……

A Game such as QUELF! Quelf is a game that @TheWocket really wanted to play and all of us played together. Quelf is described as “the unpredictable party game that gives Random a new name!

Whether you’re answering hilarious trivia, performing ridiculous stunts, or obeying silly rules, Quelf will inspire you to use your creativity, wit and sense of humor in ways you’ve never imagined.

As you move around the game board, as one of eight quirky characters, crazy things start to happen. Your friends start talking strangely. Your mom’s face is wrapped in toilet paper. Your dad is acting like Dracula. And you are reciting a poem about your armpits.”

If you think I am joking about the above description of the game, you are so wrong! To the right here,  is a picture of my pants, my jeans – turned inside out due to a direct result of playing the game Quelf. As the result of a card, I had to turn one item of my clothing inside out and wear it or pay a penalty. Well I was wearing my jeans and my t-shirt that says /Spit. I was not about to turn my cool shirt inside out, so jeans it was! Later during the game I was forced to be conjoined to @TheWocket and watched as other players performed just as random acts. If you all want an uber cool game to play at parties or collage? QUELF! I’m just saying! I LOVE this game!

Of course not all the games that we played were random and whacky. Here is a shot of the 2 player game, Day & Night.  @Jstud and @TheWocket played this game as I sat watching and learning. Their review of it was that is was a very good game, but they questioned the games flexibility since it only had two, fixed decks. I personally loved the myriad of art work this game provided, as the obvious different between the Day & Night themes was lovely to the eyes. If you are into two player games. I’d definitely point you this way!!!

Now I could go on and on about the vast number of games played, not just by me, but by all of The Gang…. but seriously? This is the most image filled post I’ve ever done and it is getting long winded even for me.

I have to say, that while I had a brilliantly wondrous time at BGG.con 09, I was gobsmackingly impressed with the BGG.con Staff. Best Con Staff ever!! This con ran so smoothly and seamlessly I was truly impressed. I was thrilled to speak to various members of the staff, s well as having finally had the opportunity to meet one of my most cherished NaNoWriMo friends ever – InkyGirl. Debbi, is Geek of the Week #222 @ BoardGameGeek.com yet I have known and loved Debbi from her years of NaNoWriMo Comics she has drawn. When she finally found me in one of the many gaming ballrooms, we squealed and hugged!!! It was so awesome! Then Debbi presented me with a tiny gift – an entire set of the NaNoWriMo badges!  Thank you sweet Debbi – next year we have to actually schedule time to play a game together

I loved the games (Space Alert in the elevator FTW), and the peoples I met at BGG.con. Space Alert is a co-op game where you work as a team to save your ship thru a mission. We actually played one round in the working elevator of the WESTIN. I LOVED IT. Talk about a hoot and a half, for 10 minutes that elevator was our ship!! Thanks Guy and all of my shipmates. I loved learning various games and learning what I don’t like. I truly loved everything about this con.

But the bestest time I had at BGG.con 09 had to be with @TheWocket and The Gang. In my life I have never laughed, smiled, hugged, and had fun as I did with this con and these people. When my sugar crashed and I went into a deep hypoglycemic spell, somehow in a crowd of 1000 people I managed to find @TheWocket and he took care of me immediately. Then The Gang stepped in to the rescue as well, and before too long, I was at an Ihop eating the carbs I needed surrounded by people I love. I have the best friends evar!!!

<—- This is @TheWocket and I. I am nestled easily into the Meeples Tote Bag meant to carry games, and he kicked back, King of all……

It is my favorite picture…….. of all time.

Note – It is I, in the submissive posturing. You know your life is worthwhile when you have someone like @TheWocket in it. And at BGG.con09 I was not just limited to having @TheWocket by my side, I had @EvilCutie, @TheHufford, @NAMG, and @Jstud too.

Thank you sweeties for an excellent time and allowing me to come play along!

BGG.con – I highly recommend it!!!

Why Not – Right?

@cylithria, BGG.con, Gaming, Review, TheWocket, Why Not - Right?

November 18th, 2009 by Cy

Yesterday Evening I had the opportunity to go out to dinner with some wonderful people.  I believe it was a wonderful time – but you all know my inability at all things civilian – so maybe I am just hopeful? Who knows…. lol….. but either way I was thrilled to not only have an evening with @TheWocket, but his family as well.

In keeping with Why Not – Right? Tradition, I will be nicknaming the family….. because for someone reason I nickname everyone I blog about. Hopefully @TheWocket’s family won’t ever mind their newly formed nicknames

The reason for the dinner with @TheWocket’s entire, immediate is family is that on the 9th of November it was @MommaWocket’s birthday.  Due to schedules of @MommaWocket and the rest of the family, her official birthday dinner was scheduled for last night – and an invitation was kindly extended to me.

I met @MommaWocket at @NAMG’s wedding last Sept. At the wedding I was busy rushing about and din’t get to spend much time at all with @MommaWocket or @TheWocketPop – so it was nice to be able to do such yesterday evening.

@MommaWocket is an awesome lady! She has a total killer sense of humor and her smile is beautiful! She is a new Mac user and we sat some last evening speaking of the Mac laptop she had as well as the New OS Snow leopard. She is truly an excellent lady to talk to and has a great many talents.  I listened with absolute awe as she and @TheWocket spoke bowling lingo that my non-bowling ass had no earthly comprehension of. It was awesome. She also golf’s, rides Harley’s and does a vast amount of other things.   She’d be cool just for all she does and her personality, but seriously – a mother who rides a Harley. Folks that is cool as all hell!!!!!  I truly adore her and hope she had the happiest of birthdays

@TheWocketPop is just as delightfully funny and sly as @TheWocket. now I know where @TheWocket gets his evil grin from; @TheWocketPop! While @TheWocketPop’s eyes were bright and bold, he often remained observingly silent. He is the type of man you can see his mind working through his eyes.  He too has a great sense of humor, and has an endearingly kind side that just glows from within.   His mind works fast and he is quick witted which is totally awesome and his eyes twinkle with delight when he looks at @MommaWocket.  I’d love to sit and pick his brain, just because I am willing to bet his mind is incredible sharp and fantastically entertaining.

Of @TheWocket was present, and seeing him in the element of his family left me with tons of smiles. They are an incredible family and obviously he loves them very much.

Also at dinner was @IgoogleWocket – the sister. @IGoogleWocket is so funny, and a total “googlegirl” at heart – and how could I *not* love that… right???  At dinner we both ordered the exact same thing –  without even consulting one another, then later on we sat side by side as she googled stuff and I totally understood the whole “I’ll google it” ideal! I love, love, love the color of her hair…….. for some reason it just shimmers and sparkles – and it is natural!  She has a very right personality and she allowed me to view her pictures from her reccent cruise where she went cave tubing……  D00ds who does not love an @IgoogleWocket who Cave tubes……… I have never met another person who has done it until her. She TOTALLY RAWKS!!!!!

And I also had the privilege of meeting @BrainyWocket – @TheWocket’s Brother.  I call him @BrainyWocket because he seems so cerebral. We spoke of books last night and it is obvious by his reading list he is no fool. I have always loved minds of high intelligence and I believe @BrainyWocket to be one of them. Although quiet at first, as the night wore on we chatted so easily and naturally. He made me feel extremely comfortable, perhaps because we could easily discuss books? I don’t know, but like @TheWocketPop and @TheWocket, @BrainyWocket has a devious smile with a touch of mischief too it as well.  Delightful!

It was a wonderful evening. I was admittedly nervous. I *SO* don’t know how to do civilian outings such as this. But the entire @WOCKETFAMILY was so welcoming, so sweet, so funny and so interesting that my evening was amazing!!!  My thanks to each of them for such a wonderfully warm night when it was actually freezing and dreary here in Kansas City.

and @TheWocket – I think you are very lucky – your family in incredible! Thank You for introducing me to them. *kiss to cheek*

@cylithria, Dinner, Family, TheWocket, Why Not - Right?

November 4th, 2009 by Cy

“Yo Ma’am” a voice cries out.

I turn and see eleven or so eager, troop faces looking in my direction.

“Gotta minute?”

I take a deep, slow, barely noticeable breath and nod once. I about face and walk towards the gathered troops and the campfire. I didn’t really “have a minute” but years of being with troops has taught me, when they ask, you find a minute.

As I step closer to their make shift circle, it opens to reveal a small log for me to set upon.

I greet them as I always do, “Evening Gentlemen.” and I smile.

Instantly the enlisted men around me relax. Yes, they are not officers, and yes, they know I always call my troops gentlemen or ladies. For some reason they always found comfort in it. So did I.

As I sit, I am handed a cup of coffee. I slug down a swallow and cradle the cup in my hands. “What’s up?”

All at once the eager eyes turn odd. Men begin shifting their glances at the young Corporal who’d originally called me into their midst.

Right away the Cpl begins speaking. ”We was sitting here shooting the shit and we had a question for you, since your the token female round these parts.”

There isn’t any laughter at the use of the phrase “token female”. Long ago it had been established that I was indeed, the token female for these men. Perhaps to another woman, such words would be an insult, but to me they were an honor.

“Alright, hit me up.” I say as I sit back and get comfy.

The Cpl. grabs a stick and pokes the fire they have built. “We was talking about the girls in our lives. You know, how they are doing, shit like that.”

I nod. I did know. The men often spoke of their women, although not in a way you might think.

“We was wondering, what would it take for you to fall in love?” The Cpl suddenly asks.

“Whoa…” I say instantly. looking around to see all eyes on me, I realize they are serious. “Ya’ll don’t fuck around with token female questions, damn….lemme think.”

My circle of troops relax. My answer instantly let’s them know two things, one – I am taking them serious, and two- it’s okay to ask such a question. Their smiles return.

I stare into the fire. “That’s not so easy to answer because every woman is different really.” I begin

“Well ma’am we wasn’t asking for all women,” Cpl says suddenly. I look at him.His eyes are locked on mine and I can see he is deadly serious. “We was kind of wanting to know what it would take for you.”

I keep my face completely blank as I look around the circle. “For me…” I echo softly. “Welllllll……. that’s *definitely* not easy to answer. damn.”

They chuckle.

“Do I get to know why you’re asking me this?” I say as I stall for time.

Smiles begin to fade. Some men look down at their feet or into the fire. others cough nervously. The young Cpl keeps poking the fire.

“Guess it just seems funny that someone like BriedBologna (nicname/callsign) here can have a girl but you got no one Ma’am. ” another man offers. I see some of them nodding slowly. “We’re were wondering.”

“I see” I say softly. Somehow I manage to nod, again only to reassure them that this is okay, even if I haven’t a clue what brought it on.

“Don’t mean to put ya on the spot Ma’am.” BriedBologna offers as a group apology.

I drink down my coffee and hold out my cup for a refill. Instantly someone is pouring more as I speak. “No….didn’t put me on the spot….just trying to figure out how to explain it.”

A soft hush falls over everyone. a few more troops gather around us. I sit wondering what the fuck. LoL

“Well….” I begin as I shift on my log. “What makes you think I haven’t been in love?” I ask trying to buy more time.

“Come on Ma’am….. that’s obvious. You wouldn’t be here if you were in love with some man.” the Cpl says with a flourish.

I laugh. He is probably right. “Point” I say as I re-center my thoughts.

Finally I just say the hell with it in my mind and start talking. “I guess the first thing I’d say is, you kind of have to believe there is such a thing as ‘in love.’ Know what I mean?”

All eyes stare at me. No response. They aren’t letting me off with just that.

“You sayin’ there is no such thing as falling in love Ma’am?” one of them challenges finally.

I shrug. “I’m saying, I don’t believe so.”

Their shock is evident.

“I think….and this will definitely never win me any girl party invites; that this whole idea of falling in love is…..contrived.”

Nobody so much as blinks.

“I think people want so badly to be loved, they create some sort of self imposed fantasy that makes some sense of falling?”

Again they stare.

“Hell I don’t know…” I finally give in. “All I know is I haven’t met anyone yet who I’d fall to yet”.

“Why not?”

I sigh. “d00d….I’d have to be pretty damn sure he’d catch me before I’d even think of falling.”

Grins suddenly appear in the firelight.  Even I grin, I sound stupid, but it’s how I felt.

“You’re not that big, you’d be easy to catch.” our corpsman says quickly.

My eyes drill into his. “You think so Doc? Really?” I challenge.

His grin fades and he stares down my stare. Finally I glance around the circle. “Do you really think there is some man out there that could catch me? For real?”

“Well damn Ma’am,” another troop chimes in. “You ain’t all that bad.”

I smile. I also shrug.

“Well let’s look at the possibility that there is someone who could catch ma’am,” Cpl says quickly. “There’s gotta be someone. We are just curious as to what he’d be like. Ain’t you ever thought of what you want before?”

I suppress the urge to snicker. “Only a million times” I think as I sit there shaking my head with uncertainty.

“He can’t be stupid” BriedBologna says suddenly.

“Stupid people hurt me” the entire group says at once. They are mocking and reciting one of my favorite, true things to say.

“An he has to have balls” another troop chimes in.

I grin from ear to ear.

“Dude’s gotta have a wicked, twisted sense of humor.” someone says immediately.

I sit back and just listen to their list of the man I would fall for.

“He can’t be just not stupid, he’s gotta be brainiac type. You know like a nuclear phsyichist or something scientific.”

“He has to like music.”

“he can’t be no player.”

“dude’s gotta be tough.”

“Needs Honor.”

“He’s gotta pay close attention, but not smother you.”

“He needs to be able to say ‘No’ but in the right way.”  Everybody laughs at that. Rarely do people say no to me.

“He’s gotta be a civilian” The Corporal says suddenly. All eyes snap to the Cpl and my mouth falls open.

“Are you HIGH?” I gawk aloud.

Snickers travel around our campfire and the corporal shakes his head no. “Ma’am I’m sorry, but ain’t no way another Jarhead is ever gonna be able to handle you.”

A couple softly uttered “oorah’s” smatter the air around me. I am floored to see each and every man agree’s with this statement.

“Am I *that* bad?” I gasp.

“Oh hell no Ma’am. it ain’t that.” The young Cpl says quickly. “I mean you’re hot, we’d do ya.” He begins. I watch in hidden horror as my troops nod at the statement.

“You’re a damn good Officer and Marine…. and that’s why he’s gonna have to be a civilian.”

I blink, confused.

“Ma’am, you got more defenses the a White House Hooker on her knees, under the oval office desk.” The Cpl declares seriously. “Ain’t no way no Marine is gonna breech or flank em. It’s gotta be a civilian just so he stands a chance.”

I stare at the Cpl. part of me is proud of his twisted, “White House Hooker” comment. Part of me is horrified to know the troops see me so well.

“Yeah,” the corpsman pipes up, “definitely a civilian. You’d eat any jarhead for breakfast.”

“Thanks…..I think….”

The circle chuckles. So do I.

“Can’t be some rich guy though,” one of them says quickly.

“Or a pretty boy. She hates the pretty ones.” A Marine standing behind me offers.

I turn to look at him. “I don’t *hate* them.” I say in my defense.

The Marine is undaunted. “No, but you wouldn’t do one either.”

I give him the eye. He is right. I need say nothing more. Lose a battle but maintain focus on the war I always say.

I sit nodding, staring again into the fire. “Interesting.” I offer just because something had to be said.

For a moment we are all quiet.

“dude’s got to be whacked.” my Sgt suddenly bemoans. We all look at him, shocked at the veracity of his words.

“Why?’ I ask.

The Sgt shifts uncomfortably. “ma’am with all due respect, I don’t think you realize you’re a girl.”

My jaw drops.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, one look at you and a man KNOWS you’re a girl. But you don’t…..well….. There is a whole lot about you that is not girlie. Dude’s gotta be whacked in the head enough to know that once you’re not being all crusty and grungy, you’re all girl underneath. No offense.”

My left eyebrow twitches as I stare. “I….see” I say ever so carefully.

I watch as the Sgt shrugs. I force myself to look away, trying not to create a more awkward sensation then I already have. Their ideals are surprising to me and I am not sure how to respond.

“You outta take some leave and go out Ma’am.” One of the troops offers.

I smile. I nod, I swallow all the coffee in my cup. I get up, grab their pot off the fire and refill my cup. Secretly I wish for cream and sugar AND a large hole to swallow me up.

“Perhaps…”

The Cpl laughs. “You aint gonna.”

I laugh. “true. But I thought of it. That counts.”

They all start laughing. So do I.

“So can I ask, why the sudden interest in my love life gentlemen?”

The laughter dies off, ASAP. Shifty eyes dart from one another. I watch to see who among them will be the official victim who answers.

It’s Doc. “Just looking out for ya Ma’am.”

I can’t help but smile with honor. “Truly appreciated Gentlemen. Thank you.”

I hold that special smile as I look to each pair of eyes gathered around our campfire. If I had been more girlie I might have had a tear in my eye. In their own crude way, they see me as one of them. It soothes my soul.

The Cpl who started this looks over at me and leans his elbows on his knees.  ”You didn’t answer our question Ma’am.”

I inhale deeply. They never give up.

“Like I said Tox (The Cpl’s Nicname), I haven’t met anybody I’d fall to yet.” I honestly say.

The Cpl keeps his eyes drilled on me. “If you did, would you fall Ma’am?”

My heart cinches tightly, as this almost seems too personal, and yet it is a simple question. I look into the fire, trying to see the answer I don’t have.

“Presuming there is such a man as previously described, whom by some strange happenstance enters my life ……. perhaps….?” I offer sincerely.

I can feel every set of eyes drilling into me, but I keep my line of sight on the fire. The only sound is the noise of crackling fire and the silence of the night.

“Hey Ma’am….” My Private First Class suddenly says. I look to him, the youngest of the group. He takes a gulp of air and speaks very strongly. “If some dude does show up, and he says he will catch you when you fall….just fall….. if he don’t catch ya, he answers to us.”

All around the fire are voices of agreement. Voices of support. I don’t allow the stupidly sweet grin of a girl to grace my lips, instead I grin like a wild banshee.

“Deal!”

“OORAH” rings out through the night air. I nod once and stand up. Nothing more needs to be said.

“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have small country’s I wish to invade.” I say, using my standard joke as my departing sentiment.

All the troops who were sitting stand. I hand off my cup to the Marine beside me. As I walk out of the circle I can feel the large grin on my face.

Five feet from the circle the Cpl’s voice rings out. “Thanks Ma’am.”

“My Pleasure Gentlmen.” I yell back.

I walk away into the night…..smiling.

@cylithria, Love, Why Not - Right?

October 28th, 2009 by Cy

<— This is a stained glass representation of an Inukshuk.

Inukshuk is an Inuit word, loosely translated to “In the image of man”. The Inuit are the people of the far, arctic north in North America. If you want to learn more of Inukshuk or the Inuit, go – google them.  I don’t mind.

I chose this image before an actual photo of an Inukshuk simply for the coloration of this piece.  The colors, both blue and green; were the same colors I saw the very first time I laid eyes on a genuine Inukshuk.

I was but a teeny, teeny girl of 4 when my mentor and I finally reached the spot where the enormous Inukshuk stood waiting.

“Well there he is Cylithria Alania” Grey softly spoke into the midnight blue darkness.

I used to bounce on my tip toes back then, and did such not only because the magnificent stone being stood before me, but because someone had finally spoken to me. Finally. We’d been travelling for 4 days, and I had been with grey’s Inuit tribe for 9 days prior to the trip, during that entire time I had been instructed I could not speak, nor would I be spoken to. Now finally, human words were directed towards me. I bounced with glee.

“You may speak now.” Grey stated as he found a jagged rock to rest his pack against.

Still bouncing I clapped my hands excitedly, softly, so as not to disrupt the magic of the midnight arctic silence. That was all my excitement allowed. The pattering of a teeny clap and the bouncing on toes.

“He is Inukshuk – to your world that is an image of man. He stands guard, solitary. He points our direction with his wide open arms. he provides guidance to weary or lost travelers.  He provides cover for hunters seeking caribou. He is….Inukshuk.”

The northern lights began dancing in the skies above us. The glee that would have produced a squeal of delight caught in my throat as I looked at his long, stone legs.

“Can he dance?” I squeaked as tears filled my eyes.

During this trip I had learned the wonders and powers of dancing with the lighted skies. the thought that his stony legs would not allow his movement brought tears to my cheeks and made it hard to breathe.

Ripping my eyes from the 17 ft tall Inukshuk I looked to my mentor and felt my lip quivering. Grey shook his head.

“He is Inukshuk. He is there to tell us We are Here.”

My heart constricted painfully. My watery eyes turned toward this beautiful creature of stone. “Oh noooooooo!”

The bouncing ceased. My teeny hands clenched in sorrow. My pig tails blew in the soft, cold arctic wind. “Noooooo that’s not right Grey!!” I plead in pain.  The thought tore me into millions of shattered pieces. The thought of being unable to dance horrified my soul.

“It is not wrong Cylithria.” Grey corrected as I stared from the Inukshuk to my mentor and back again. “He is Inukshuk” Grey stated firmly as he rose from the rock. With a hand on my back, he gently turned me towards a horizon, “As are they.”

My tiny, tear filled eyes scoured for the others. Rubbing tears from my face, I looked again….. it was then that I saw them…. the others…. more Inukshuk.

More tears rushed my eyes. “are they….are they stone too?” I squeaked.

Grey nodded. “They are Inukshuk.”

“Oh Noooooooo”

I whirled back around to the Inukshuk just before us. “They can’t dance, they can’t dance”  I cried in soft, heartbroken sobs.

My truest love in life was just dancing because you could. The fact that these beings, so dedicated, so strong, so bold could not dance…….. it was the most heartbreaking for me.

Grey gently prodded me towards the rock he had claimed use of, but my little heart couldn’t comply. “Noooo” I cried as I dropped my own pack and ran to the base of the massive stone man.

“Cylithria!….CYLITHRIA!” Grey called.

I ignored him and the fact that I’d brought no light for the path. I tripped twice, cutting my palm once and never even realized it. My heart was set upon doing one thing, hugging the poor, sad, lonely, unmoving Inukshuk.

He was so cold when I got to his leg. I flung my tiny arms and body against his massive stone appendage and pressed my cheek against him.

“It’s okay…..it’s okay…’ I wailed as I held him ever so tightly. “Its okay you can’t dance….. it’s okay!”

The more I felt the freezing stone against my wet cheek, the more heartbroken I became. I turned my cheek and looked back to my mentor and his tribe mates. “HELP HIM” I screamed.

Grey was slowly walking towards me while the others stayed behind. “Cylithria, he is Inukshuk” Grey said so gently.

I turned my face away, still clinging to my first real friend. I was crying so hard that when I looked up his massive body, i only caught a glimpse of him under the northern lights before tears swamped my up turned eyes.

“I’ll dance for YOU INUKSHUK” I suddenly yelled. Just before Grey could reach for me, I ripped myself from the Inukshuk leg. Running to get further from my mentor, I ripped off my parka and tore at my mukluks.  ”I’ll dance for YOU” I cried as I pointed to his stony head.

Raising my tear filled eyes to the skies I started singing the song Grey had taught me.  With arms wide stretched and the open, broken heart of a child – I danced for The Inukshuk. I danced and I danced and I danced until the tears began subsiding, my heart stopped breaking and I could no longer feel my limbs. I remember becoming aware of the cold the moment I crumpled to the ground.

Grey’s warm arms suddenly scooped me up and instantly began walking me back to the others. He’d scooped me into his parka and his body felt hot and cozy to my freezing limbs.

Grey cuddled me closer as he walked the crooked path. It would be years before I would learn of how blood streaked my face from when I’d wiped hair or tears from my eyes. I also don’t recall the tenacious coughing Grey always spoke of.  But I do recall Grey’s only words to me about the incident – and my reply.

“Cylithria, what did you learn just now?” He asked as he laid me in a bed of warming furs.  Brushing hair from my bloody, wet face Grey’s voice turned soft, fatherly, tender; “He is Inukshuk. He can not dance.”

The Northern Lights flickered just above Grey’s head and I remember smiling at them as if they and I shared a secret.  I looked at Grey’s dark eyes and flashed a brilliant smile. “No, but I can!”

—

Life is not about the shit you have, where you have been or who you have been with. It isn’t a list of things to do or things not yet done.  It isn’t about what you have attained or lost.

Life is the dance of your soul.

No matter your job, your home life, your health, your loves, your lifestyles…… if you can’t face lifelessness and dance within your soul….. you are not living yet.

So I ask the readers of Why Not – Right?  He is Inukshuk. He can not dance. But Can YOU?

@cylithria, Inukshuk, Life Stories, Why Not - Right?