Sunday, January 30, 2011


Taking a road trip to Bellingham was not the smartest of ideas while I'm still recovering from a recent back spasm.  I had to take so many pain killers last night that I woke up to those same swollen eyes that percolated as a result of 6 weeks of crying.

I was supposed to get a photo done for my new passport today.

Uhhhh ...

Ain't gonna happen.

This femme is adamant that there will be a pretty face in that booklet to be studied by embassadors of countries other than my own.

I felt my love slink into our temporary bed at 8:30 a.m., spooning my dopey, drugged body.  Therefore, I know Papi will be sleeping all day and not hijacking my newest plans of a gentle repair day, filled with back care stretches and eating of healthy veggies to clear my system out of the carb overload I indulged in, that was oh-oh-oh daaaaaamn good.

The pain I'm feeling today is forcing me to walk with a cane, but it was worth the fun I benefited from.  I had a full, bustling with cheer day with Papi.  It really doesn't matter what we do together, there will always be deep belly laughs.

Well, now that I'm out of the pit of doom that is.

I'm in a safe place where I can listen to the excitement that Papi is overflowing with.  There is exuberant joy from something as simple as chin hair.

I have to admit, I stare at it all the time now, but doesn't harm my heart.  It is simply a phenomenon of, 'how the hell did I wind up here'?

Papi's tuft doesn't look like beard hair, it looks more like Shaggy from Scooby Doo.  It adds to the character of my love; the goofy soul mate that I adore.

On our day together, I finished my love's sentences, answered questions that Papi hadn't finished asking and commented before mi esposo had completed a mouthful of an observation.  All of this walked me to an opportunity of strength to realize; the male transformation isn't stealing everything from me.

I still get to keep this amazing heart along with those gorgeous eyes.

I suppose I should make a nice shelf for this trophy to sit upon so that I may look at them when I have another rough patch.

Another prize I have earned?  A spontaneous soul that wakes me before my sleep is finished, and replaces my Saturday layout with a spur of the moment change of plans.

A person who, while we're on a mission for cupboards, happens to find the 'right' tattoo artist to do touch ups of a tattoo that was received during our honeymoon.

Papi tried to convince said tattoo artist to permanently imprint a heart with our wedding date embossed for the world to see.  A tattoo that would make people ask, "What's the date for?" giving Papi an opportunity to gloat about our grand day.

Unfortunately, mi esposo didn't get to have this declaration visible to the masses.  The artist was on an apprenticeship and didn't feel comfortable working with neck skin.

However, it truly was the thought that counts.

This is my love.  This is the person I stood hand in hand with, eyes locked on one another, in front of 180 witnesses who blessed the union of our bond.

The conclusion that I might not make it through this marriage is a venom that is gradually evaporating through my pores.

Good riddance demons.

Oh, I know there's a few of you hanging around in there.  My suggestion is that you leave peacefully before I kick your ass.

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