48 hours

D Day.

The Countdown.

48 hours.

All I can say is thank gawd for work.  I'm so exhausted working 11 hour days of non-stop work that I really don't have time to cry.

My eyes will well, but then I find myself pressing buttons on the screen that tell me where to go for my next jaunt, or I'm getting up and out to help someone who has less mobility than I.

I did get to watch my love's plane leave right from underneath the take off path.  I did get to film it.  It was heartbreaking waiting for it to go, but when Papi passed over me, I felt mi esposo's love and happiness filled my heart.

The next day, I was able to start my taping of this experience.  That was really hard.

I was a blubbering mess when I really started to talk about the experience on the whole.  I really put 6 months of pain into a 10 minute monologue of story telling.

I suppose it's ok, because the video really does show how I can go from normal speaking to blubbering in a matter of seconds when it comes to my love's male transformation.

I got through the hormones with some acceptance that turned into healing from that neck of the journey.

However, The Countdown to top surgery is the next hurdle.

My stomach turns.

My mind wants to rush me to another thought.

denial ain't a river in egypt

Like I said, I'm grateful to be working to give my mind a break.

I got to speak to Papi on Facebook last night.  It was 3 a.m. in Florida and I'd just come back from work, still donning my uniform.

We were both so tired, but it was necessary just to have a connection for a moment, even if it was virtual.

Well, today I pack, do another 11 hour shift, then come home to prepare.

I leave at about 4 a.m. tonight.

my stomach ... it just keeps turning.

I put a call out to some Trust List friends who had been through this, and requested some talk time with them when I get to Florida.

Of course, I was greeted with love and a bunch of "Of course!  Anytime!!"

Yet I'm so afraid that when the time comes that I need to actually get words out of my head, I won't use my safety net of this circle of love.

don't speak ...

The flip side is, I may just talk about something else.  You know?  Denial?

I'm terrified.

I'm nauseated.

One sweet soul reminded me to eat to stay strong.  Good advice.

I will go eat my breakfast now, even if my stomach is telling me to do otherwise.

This hurts.

speechless

"Ok.  We're back.  So now we have to talk about it.  These are YOU'RE 'rules'."

I guess Papi's right.

While my love was texting, the woman in the phone that automatically corrects mi esposo's spelling was frantically trying to keep up to Papi's maniacal typing.

It blurts out things like, "Capitol I," and other words, that perhaps it finds a more suitable option.  One word stuck out for me, however.

"Denial."

So, I had to ask, "Why are you writing denial?  Who's in denial?"

My love answered, "I'm talking to **a Trust List friend** and telling her how you're in denial about my top surgery."

is that something like, if i ignore it, it will go away?

Maybe I am.  Maybe I'm just trying to stay on vacation, even though when we got off the plane it felt like I could see my breath.

toto, we're not in kansas anymore ...

But seriously, I'm new to the male transformation gig!  I don't know how to deal with this other than to ignore it!

Alright.  I'm in denial.  But that doesn't mean that I'm not going to accept it when it happens in less than a week.

i think i just threw up in my mouth a bit, or maybe that was the eggs telling me i still have a parasite?

The Countdown is increasingly more anxiety driven.

4 days until Dr. Scissorhands #1 gets his game on.

i promise i will play 'nice'. i promise not to give him the stink eye or the death stare.

I watched Papi get the video camera ready for mi esposo's taping of the experience.  My love eagerly charged the batteries, put in a new tape, and made sure everything was running well.

I also watched Papi go nutty getting ready for the flight to Florida.  My love basically came home, did laundry, had 2 sleeps, and then will be off as a frequent flyer.

Mi esposo leaves today.  I'll be at work when Papi is en route to the airport, and at the end of my day, when I park my bus in the lot, mi esposo's plane will be leaving 15 minutes later.

I will stay in the lot and watch my love go, unless I'm off early.  If I'm off in time, I'll go sit under the plane route on a little bench they've made especially for this day.

the narcissist in me is sure that it's just for me. it's all about me.

Either way I will be able to watch Papi's plane take off.  The airport is basically a 5 minute drive from where we park those yellow 'short buses'.

Work will be difficult today, as it will be my first shift alone since doing my last gradual return in November.  You know the one?  Where I was doing my first return, but fell, then have been off for 6 months again?

Anyway, it's going to be tough, but it will probably keep my mind off things to come.

4 days ... it whispers from the pit of doom ... it's breath is hideously rank

I just sat and stared at the screen for 5 minutes, so I suppose I'm done for today.

I don't know what else to say right now other than, thank you, my imaginary friend, for another day of an open ear, and a shoulder.  Things are going to get tough now.

I'm grateful you're here.

A story of suckers.

Ok.

So I feel like crap.

It's very possible that I have once again contacted a parasite.

WTF?!?!

Every time I go to a warm place I'm going to come back with critters in my body?!?!

I mean really!  I wanted to meet new friends here, but the body suckers?  No.

These new inhabitants feel a bit like the people who come up to us and say, "Hey!  You know me!  I'm the bartender at your resort!"

Being that Papi and I both your typical friendly, polite Canadians, we wouldn't want to offend the person by saying, "No, I don't think so."  I mean, what if they ARE and we just came off looking like snobs?

Then we'd have to see them again at the resort and feel embarrassed.

So we smile and nod, then they go on to say something like, "It's my birthday today!"  Or, how about, "It's Mother's Day on Sunday and I just happen to be going shopping at the same time as you!"

We try to avoid them, but one sucked me in with, "You have to see the heritage homes around the corner!"

Granted, he really did take us on a nice foot tour of the gorgeous homes they're restoring.  I got some amazing pictures of homes that look like they're from New Orleans.

I didn't know that Papi was terrified the whole time, because I was too busy with, 'ooh' and 'wow' and snapping pictures with everyone staring at the crazy gringo who was being led around by the local sheister.

we were the only ones in on the joke

While I was happily clicking away, Papi was panicking that there was a thief ring going on.  One guy leads us around for 'x' amount of time, while the dude back at the car who said, "No worry, I watch you car!" is possibly rummaging through our knapsack.

It turned out everything was fine, and we gave the guy some cash after he begged for his family.

we were going to anyhow, but not 500 pesos!!!  the guilt trip he gave us!!!!

Well, when today came around and we went shopping ...

had to get the black walnut herbs to knock out this fucking parasite in my gut!!! vamos enemigos!

... there was the same scam.

"Hey you know me!  I'm the security guard at your hotel!"

Again, we were nice, but not so nice after he stalked us all through the store.  Every turn we took, Mr. 'I have to buy for mi Madre' was there, acting like he just bumped into us again.

He wanted us to go visit his fruit stand and told us exuberantly about the 'free market' that's going on.  We did our best not to look too rude, but just kept looking at our 'shopping list' on our phone and kept speaking about which direction we should go.

It helped to speak English really fast.  Fast enough that he couldn't understand us.  However, he'd pop up again and again, telling us which direction in the store to go to.

dude!  in canada we have stores too.

After we were finished shopping, he was there waiting for us outside.  He said, "Ok!  So you're done?  Now I'll show you the street festival and you can visit my fruit stand!"  He then told us which way to to turn when we got out of the supermarket.

Our new friend ran ahead of us to the top of the hill, waving us his way.

We looked at him and waved.

Then?

Well, we went the other direction.

He'd obviously never dealt with a married couple, where one was more infested with bugs than the dogs on the street here, and the other had forgotten to take a happy pill for the last few days.

No more Nice Canadian!  Well, for him anyway.

Happy Halloween

Ugh.

I hope it was just the chicken from last night that's making me feel like crap.  I don't need another parasite.  I'd even be happy with a 24 hour dose of Montezuma's Revenge more than a parasite.

ok? no parasite again please?!?!

Now that I'm over freaking out about the zealots, I can tell you about our visit to a village.

We had brought about $150 of school supplies to give to a few schools here, and after we delivered them to a couple of schools, we were drawn to the Haitian Village that we passed by on two of our tours.

Our guides had told us that they really like candy.  It's what they want the most.

the teacher in me wants to give practical gifts, but i'll go along with it

We didn't bring any candy for them, so we went to a local store and bought enough for a massive bowl at Halloween.  You know the bowl?  The one where every kid on the block knows you for the handfuls of goodies that you'll get.

That house never gets the tricks played on them.

With candies filling the bag 3/4 of the way full we made our way back to the village we had seen a few times, remembering the way to get there was to turn right at the well off the main route.

street signs?  forget it.  turn right at the cow, left at the donkey and stop a house past the goat

Our little rental car was not too pleased to be driving down such a nasty road, but we were determined to get to the kids.

We made it without incident and found our first recipients who were so happy.  4 little girls with the greatest corn rows in their hair and pretty hair accessories to go along with their massive, stunning, brown eyes.

They accepted the candies with gratitude and the parents in the background gave us a wave of thank you.

Oh, this was going to be great!  We will have enough for all the kids and they are so wonderful that we'll have a memory forever to remember with joy!

We get to the next crew and they came running to the car like piranhas attacking a cow.

Hands were reaching in past me and Papi to get to the bag.  At this point there were about 10 kids reaching and tearing.  Candies were being ripped out by the handful, along with the weak plastic.  Treats were flying in all directions.

As a matter of fact, some fell into my crotch area and that was definitely not out of bounds for the kids.  They just reached right in and didn't care WHERE those candies were, they were going to get them!

All I wanted to do was save our camera from the attack, and to be sure they didn't steal my chocolate bar that I was nursing!

best chocolate in the world! don't you take my chocolate!!!

Papi was being accosted and yelling, "Hey!  Wait a minute!  Oh my god!  Hey!  Stop it!"  But the kids kept reaching in and Papi's breasts were fair game too.

When all the candy was given and there were now at least 20 children crawling into our car, we realized we better get going, or we'll have Haitian kids coming home with us to our hotel.

But how to get them out of the car?!?

They wouldn't stop attacking, searching for the possibility of more candies, so we had to start the car driving and at the same time roll the windows up.

It felt like we were the worst people to drive away with kids hanging out of our windows, then to roll the windows up to ease them out, but really, there was nothing else to do.

We were completely frazzled and a little later on as we drove down the rest of the road toward the main route, we noticed there were muddy hand prints all over the inside of the car.

It was as if that was our trophy for making it out with the camera and rings still in tact.

We got the trick.

Papi said, "You know, that might not have been the brightest idea."

oh reaaaaalllly?

One of the funniest things that we realized, was Papi kept yelling, "Hey!" and in Spanish, Hay means today.

So, in all reality, Papi was really telling them to hurry it on up!  "Today!  Today!"

It wasn't their fault.  Papi egged them on.

oh. my. god. well actually, YOUR god.

I know I vent a lot about religious zealots, but here's one that I just need to get out.

So, there we were having the most BEAUTIFUL sights of nature that could ever be witnessed, at the top of the mountain in our area of Puerto Plata.

They call it the Tereferico, but basically it's a tram that takes you up to see the views of the ocean, the city and the local rolling hills of green.

So amazing.

We got accosted by the merchants at the top and got suckered into buying their wares.

It doesn't feel bad to give money for their wonderful goods, but damn they're aggressive!

At the end of our financial beatings, we were walking away and the nuts attacked us.

"Here!  You both get one of these!"  The man handed us 2 pamphlets that had a cover that read: 'How to get out of debt.'

This is a topic that is always interesting to me, as Papi and I are not too good at keeping the credit card put away. 

hence ... here we are in the beautiful caribbean thanx to mastercard

But when I looked a little closer it had all the markings of religious propaganda.

"No thank you," I passed the pamphlet back.

"Oh, you go ahead and take it.  You can read it later."

"No really!  We don't need it.  We don't follow religion."

"But you don't know when you'll need to call on god," he was getting pushy now.

I tried to explain in my 'spanglish' way that I don't believe in god and there's no point in me having the pamphlet, but this was when they begged me to keep it because ... 

oh get this ...

... because, "You don't know when later you will want to pray to god to change.  When you don't want to be gay, god will help you." 

WTF?!?!?!?!?

Seriously.

Who the fuck asked me if I WANTED to change?

Dearest religious mother fucking brain washed slime balls:

Please pray to your fucking 'god' for tolerance.

Please pray to your invisible leader in birkenstock shoes to ask what 'judgement' is and who is to be judging.

Please pray to your mother fucking, fear instilling, imaginary friend to learn what respect is.

Please learn that your mother fucking 'god' doesn't exist, because if he did, he wouldn't have fuckwads like you telling me that I should change so that your 'god' would love me.

I have all the fucking love in the world, and I don't need another imaginary friend.  The one I already have is fine thank you very much.

I have the joy in my life that most people would pay to have if they could.  Do you really think that I want to change that just to appease your imaginary friend?

CHANGE?!?!?!

Why the fuck would I want to change this life of joy and love and become a sad-ass loser like you. 

end vent.

So.

Papi and I went and took pictures of us holding jesus statues in our hands.

Yes.

We held jesus up. 

goddam ... i'm sure jesus would love your fucking love and tolerance you mother fuckers.

Other than that, hey, it was a beautiful day here in the Dominican.

Except for the power outages while we're trying to listen to the hockey play-offs.

Third world country indeed.

And what the fuck is a 2nd world country?  Do they have religious zealots there?

patience is learned

"Baby when I can't open lift my arms after the surgery will you ..."

"MM-MM!" I grunted negatively.  'No' in the form of a mumble.

i don't need the last words ... i know what Papi wants to say ... no i will not inject those hormones into your body ... the evil chemicals that stole my butch ...

 "But I'll need someone to do it."

Another negative grunt, "MM!"

"Ok, I guess I'll get the maid to do it."

I laughed and managed to enunciate a muffled, "K."

"Honey, I hate it when you won't talk about things."

if i don't speak it will go away ...

I finally spoke, "I'm still on holiday.  I'm not home yet."

Papi said, "But it's only a week away!"

"I don't care.  I'm still on holiday."

don't speak ...

"Sweety, you didn't give me the time line of when we could talk about it."

"Well, I'm giving you the 'rules' now.  These are the 'rules,' I don't want to talk about it until my holiday is over."

I am allowed to change the 'rules'.  These ARE the 'rules'.  Papi knows this by now.  'Rules' are subject to change at any time I choose.

I'm lucky that Papi is patient.  Papi's lucky that I'm patient as well.

Silly esposo tried reverse psychology, "I wouldn't want you to do it anyway, you're always soooo rough on me!  You're always hurting me!"

I laughed, "No, I'm not.  You're exaggerating."

There was a moment of silence before I heard it again, "Honey are you going to be gentle when you have to take care of me?"

DIDN'T I SAY I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT?!?!??!

"Yes," I said like a spoiled brat with a lip sticking out.

"You won't hurt me?"

you mean hurt you like this hurts?

This is getting to close.  Way too close.  I don't want to think about it.  I'm envisioning the pain.

for both of us ...

Papi will be alone for the last few days of the surgery aftercare.  I won't see the unveiling until my love comes home.

I was so comfortable just lying across my love.  Entangled bodies, head to chest, leg over back.  Relaxation at it's finest.

My love is the best cuddler ever.  I've never been with anyone where the energy of love exudes in a cuddle like this.

Why is it that when we're that comfortable, mi esposo thinks it's a good time to bring 'it' up?

close enough to jab the scab ...

We left the room laughing, though.  That's all that matters.

I'll talk when it's time.

I have to start soon.

'Rules'.

Adjust them.

Whispers ...

Ah the nightmares I have.  Really!

So last night Papi wasn't a minotaur, my love was just dying.

But here's the best part: my love wanted to be single for the last year of living.

yeah ... because dying, shriveling people are soooooo sexy

Anyway, it's so strange, because I really feel like we're having a wonderful time, to the point where this really does feel like a 2nd honeymoon.

Our actual, the 1st, was ridiculous.  Papi was obviously manic, because we were up every fucking morning at 7 to go on excursions.

It's a little better this time around.  We get some days where we'll actually sleep in and miss breakfast.  That's when it feels like we're on holiday.

But honestly, everything we've seen here is amazing.

Today we went to a wonderful place called the Monkey Jungle.  100% of the profits goes to help Haitian villages and to saving abused Squirrel Monkeys.  Also, when Haitian people need medical care, they can simply go to these people and have the care for free.

All I can say is, this kind of philanthropy is what I would love to be doing when we move here.

my mind ... revving thinking of how i can be of service to these people ...

No bubbling skin today.  The clouds gave me a bit of a break, but even still, it's so warm.

We leave in 4 days, this paradise will be behind us and I go back to reality.

Papi has been female here and it really has been a nice break, but sometimes it feels weird, because I was just getting my head wrapped around the male transformation.

A young girl on our monkey tour asked me, "Is that your sister, or your friend?"

I answered, "We're married."  She looked so very confused.

What I didn't know was that Papi had been asked the same question 4 times by others on this tour.

This wouldn't be happening if my love had no breasts.

This is where I find myself wondering if I'm more on page with mi esposo than I really give myself credit for.

am i?

I see my love in the eyes that Papi sees occasionally.  I'm getting more used to seeing this.

It's not like the horrifying views I get of myself in the mirror.

the mirror always lies ... gobs of fat oozing over my pants ...

I get more peaceful sights of my love.

I will look at my love and say, "Mi guapo esposo."  My love asked me what it means.  When I told Papi it means 'you're my handsome husband', my love looked proud.

I do see my love as handsome.  I always have.  My handsome, masculine woman.

But this thought doesn't seem right anymore.

It just seems like a confusing ideal.  Papi is not a woman.  Papi has the best of both worlds, making my love a Third Gender.

This is a gender that the majority of the world can't accept.  They only want to see one or the other.

I really believe, that if the world could see this 3rd gender, then my love wouldn't feel the need to be seen as one or the other.  My love would accept the beautiful person that 'is'.

I wish we lived in this world now.  Then maybe Papi wouldn't feel the pressure to cut out pieces of that body I love so much.

The Countdown.

It definitely didn't get left behind in Vancouver.  It's a lot more of a whisper while we're here, while my love and I just get to enjoy each others company with laughs and silliness of chickens crossing the road and 4 people to a scooter.

Perhaps I can keep it to a dull roar when we return?

Stranger things have happened.

El Malo Caballo.

Miles of beauty.

The people, the beach, the sky, the birds.

Everything.

Right now, I'm staring at a man that will seriously fry within 5 minutes.  He's already pink.

dude, even i am sitting in the shade for a bit ... seriously ... and i'm part jew and indian lol!

Oh well.  He'll learn.

However, I thought that I was ok in the sun today.  I'd already gotten that burn out of the way.  You know the one?  The one for us with olive skin where you get a little pink, it stings a bit and then you're good for the rest of the journey?  Yeah, that one.

That one; where you no longer have to smear yourself with the chemical crud that is supposed to save us all from skin cancer.

I don't know.  I kinda think that this stuff is the culprit of a lot of skin cancer.  Really!  Putting all those non-organic chemicals on your skin can't be as good as natural sun.

Well, today we rode horses up in the mountains.  Papi had a horse who still had it's cajones; 'Blanco'.  He was very much in competition with my horse; 'Melo'.

Every time Melo would get too close to Blanco, he would push us off the side of the path, or try to stop us from moving anywhere.

Then Melo would flip his head up and down, causing my heart to start pounding in fear that my long legged friend would topple over and snap me at the hip.

yes ... always the drama queen if you must know

Anyway, I digress.  My main point was to tell you that my skin has bubbled.

Yes.

Bubbled.

I've only ever experienced this once, in Cuba.  I was adamant that I didn't need sun screen because of my skin never burning in Canada.

I learned wrong.

After I had that mini-burn when I first got here, I figured I'd be safe from the burn, but I suppose 5 hours out on a couple of bratty horses would prove me wrong.

One of my blogger friends, Rafa, told me I wouldn't need lotion anymore.  Goddam, I hope he's right.  I guess my skin will acclimatize when I'm here for longer.  I do feel like I'm just getting used to everything and I'm going to have to leave.

I can't believe we're leaving in a few days.

Has it really been a week and a half?!

I really don't want to go back to The Countdown.

I had a moment today where I looked at Papi's alien mammaries.  My love was pretending they were already gone.  It was an attempt to make them look like men's well built pectorals.

sadness said hello.

I left to go for my 127 step walk up to the internet area.  I could barely make it from my legs being so weak from today's ride alongside Blanco, El Malo Caballo.

These legs and butt are going to hurt tomorrow.

buns of steel!!!!! i need a horse dammit!!!

I think I'll have to add a horse to the goat and chicken dream here in the Dominican.

Namaste

So, today we looked at property in a place called Sosua.

The area is a tourist trap, but it's accessible and easy for foreigners to live in.

It looks feasible that we'll actually be able to afford to live here comfortably.  At first I thought I would have to grow a lot of veggies and get a goat to make my own cheese and dairy, but the realtor told me about all the little farms in the area that sell it to me and I'll get inexpensive food, along with supporting their farm.

This I like.

I want nothing more than to support the people here.

yes ... even the little buggers who swarm our car ... 

I'll get to know people as well by being a patron of their farm, and this is appealing to me.  I want to know how to be of service to people here if I'm going to live on their beautiful healing land.

I'll tell you though, the rules here are a bit wild.

You'll find mothers riding bitch on the back of a scooter, and they'll have their bambino tucked under one arm riding side saddle.

It's so common!

Another common occurrence?

Propane tanks being delivered by 100 cc motorcycles.

Seriously!!!

One guy today almost lost his container and all I could think was, we're going to fucking blow up.

I got the fear of propane drilled into me as a professional bus driver.  I forgot that there needs to be something to actually LIGHT the propane on fire in order for it to explode, but none-the-less, I was in fear.

I definitely need to find a way to get my hair to obey in this humidity.

The Honky 'Fro is LOOSE!

Well, I'm a blonde again, but you get the idea.

They have a section in the hair aisle for afro hair.  I'm so damn happy!!  A fucking SECTION!!  Not just an option like we occasionally get, but a whole area dedicated to wild hair.

I had to use Papi's glue to hold my hair down today.  I got sick of the 80's look going on over here.

I went into a music store to check out their selection of bass guitars, but they really have little to choose from, and the ones they do have are not really what I'd prefer.  So, it looks like I'll be bringing mine along with me.

sorry baby ... my basses are coming along for the journey ...

Sitting in the sun takes away my pain.

Locals smiling at me takes away my fear.

Searching for homes with my love takes away my stress.

A new life to live here in the Dominican will be all I need to take a breath of our future.

Now.

I just have to remember that when I want to say 'I'm hungry' that I don't mistakingly say 'I have man'.

Hombre?  Hambre?

Small difference in lettering, big difference in sound.

What they don't realize, is both are true.

Peace.

Felize.

Amor.

Dominican Time.

I'm on Dominican time.

I'm very much in recline mode.

In our slow mod, we took a drive to Santiago and on the way, we saw chickens crossing the road. 

yes ... we laughed at the joke

People don't use turn signals to pass here, they just honk to let you know they're coming, or put on their left turn signal to tell you to pass them. 

get off my ass shit head ... i'm on dominican time!

Donkeys stand at the side of the road waiting for their person to come get them for work.

Our lights go out intermittently in our room during the evenings.  We give up on waiting for them to come back on and fall asleep, but then are awoken by them coming back on.  We've asked what's up with it, but they look at us with that dumfounded look, "Really?  Has this happened more than once?"

Just laugh.  It's the way it is here.

But there are a few things I find difficult.  The cock fighting is something that I really can't handle.  Fortunately, I don't have to go in and watch, but to see it advertised at the side of the road is brutal.

Then there's the dead animals hanging in tiny, off-road, tin roof shacks.  Buy your dead chicken, goat, pig or whatever you want for dinner at the side of the road. 

not this femme ...  i don't want to see where my neatly packaged food came from originally

People SWARM your car trying to sell you things.  Mostly fruit.  You know, if we lived here, I might buy it, but when you don't have cutlery, it's a little hard to deal with a pineapple or mangoes without the proper utensils.

There was some entertainment.  Today, when we were at the 'mall', a young man asked Papi in Spanish, "Are you a man or a woman?"

I replied for mi esposo as my love's Spanish is abysmal, "Papi is both."

The confused young man said, "Ah!  Lesbiana!  I'm ok," he said with a casual shrug. 

i'm glad you think it's ok ... i might not have slept knowing you didn't think it was

When we walked away, my love informed me that while we were here, just to identify mi esposo as a woman. 

ah for fucks sakes! i'm just trying so hard to please my love, and i got it wrong.

But Papi explained, "As long as people can still see these breasts sticking out everywhere, we'll just confuse people, so how about we just say I'm a woman?"

Fine my love.  I'm just so confused, I will continue how I always have.

No pronouns.

Nada.

Just Papi, mi esposo, my love.

Oh, on a side note, I got myself some damn hot, hoochie mama jeans and a pair of short shorts that all the smokin' girls here wear.

Hell fucking ya!

They make jeans here for girls with junk in the trunk.  None of these ridiculous jeans and shorts for anorexia assed women in North America.

Ass like a damn melon over here!

And the sales girls said, "Ah!  Mamasita!  Buennnnno!"

Yup.

I fit in nicely here.

The Dream

Sometimes I have to wonder what my thought process provokes in me.

I had a dream that Papi told me, "I'm going to go shopping for hooves."

"What?  Why on earth would you need hooves?"

Papi replied with all seriousness, "I no longer feel like I'm a male.  I feel like I"m more of an animal, not a man."

My love then turned into a bull type of animal-ish 'thing'.

Papi had horns and a ring through the septum, along with hairy paws and hooves.

Presto!

Instant animal.

In my dream I had also said, "If you do this, I'll seriously divorce you.  You've put me though enough with the male transformation."

It was at that point I woke up.

I woke feeling that my love being a male would be better than mi esposo being an animal.

I don't really know what's going on with my drawing in of energy with this whole journey either.  It seems I can't see anything on any TV channel that isn't Chaz Bono going on about his sex change.

He's fucking EVERYWHERE!!!

Even in the goddam Dominican Republic he's there with Spanish subtitles.

really?!?!  i don't even get reprieve here?!?

They showed pictures of his top surgery.  I just wanted to crawl into a hole and expire.

Today, Papi said with sincerity and love, "I know you don't want to talk about this honey, but I need to.  I'm really scared.  I'm afraid I'm going to get put under and never wake up."

I assured my love, "That is not going to happen.  It's very rare that this happens, so it's not going to happen."

Damn right it's not going to happen.  I just made it through the worst of the hell of this journey and I'm not going to lose mi esposo while under the knife.

nope ... not going to happen.

My love asked me if I was afraid of the jaw surgery, and I giggled, "No!  I'm looking forward to getting it done so that my teeth match better and I can open my mouth properly."

Mi esposo also said, "I'm not sure I want to get a hysterectomy now.  That's serious and it's going to be be hard."

Papi asked me if I'm going to be ok with measuring the liquid that comes out of the tubes ...

oh god, am i 'ok'? ... 'ok'?

... then proceeded to tell me that I won't be there for when the tubes come out.

I felt very sad that I wouldn't be there.  I felt Papi's fear, sadness and knew that my love really needed to have me there.

I wish I could be there for Papi, even if it would pain me to see the end result.

I think that I am going to make this journey a video blog.  I believe that it needs to be something that I can look back on and see how my thought process could change over the years.

It's also a chance to have my love be there alone and get Papi's video blog on record.  We'll both be apart for the last part of it and it would make for a good visual for me to see what my love will be feeling while I'm not there.

the countdown ... it's biting me again ... sharp teeth ... talons in my back impeding my escape ...

Maybe I could put a nice little cover on it like the one we just received from the front desk, "Memory of my Vacation in Dominacan Republic," including the palm trees, starfish and ocean ...

the dream ...

The highlight was today for sure!!!

Before I go into the beauty of what we experienced today, I just want to share my gratitude.

I am treated like a princess with Papi.  Doors are held, chairs pulled out, everything where I am put first by the gentleman.

I certainly do have a sweet gentleman in my life.  My love has always been this, but it seems that I notice it more when I'm around people from other countries and walks of life.

I feel as though I'm wearing a tiara when my love is so good to me and other women don't get the same treatment.

The other half of my gratitude?

Today.

2 and a half years ago, I was in a wheelchair, my brain injury causing me to walk like a drunk.  It was awful and it felt like I was always walking on a canoe on water.

I struggled to learn how to walk again, yet today?

Today I climbed a fucking mountain of amazing glory!!!

I trod through rocks and boulders ...

with a little help from the guides and Papi ... my balance is still not the best

... making my way up the country side climbing up 7 waterfalls.

The object of the game was to get to the top of the 7 waterfalls,

although there were 27 ... we would only be doing the first ones

and then slide down each one of them that we climbed through.

The men and Papi all helped me up every single rock, every single pool of fresh Dominican water and every single steep climb that I had to make it through.

But I made it.

I made it to the end of the journey and then the fun began.

This injured body got to slide down waterfall after waterfall.  I was light and strong.  I fell into pools of glorious fresh mountain water.

I can't even tell you how amazingly lucky I felt that only 2 and a half years ago I couldn't even walk to the washroom on my own.

Here I am.

I am living.

I was able to go on the Jeep Safari with a man who called himself 'Indiana Jones'.  And yes, the journey up the mountain was just that.  A movie to me.  Reality for everyone, but to me it was like I had never lived before this day.

By the end of the day, we had the privilege of supporting a community by buying their art, giving out $50 worth of school supplies to a local school,

goddam ... seriously ... it was beautiful to give

and we got to try coffee and cocoa from a local woman who crushed the beans and made it right in front of our eyes.

The beauty of this land is so damn amazing that I seriously wish I could just stay and never go home.

We plan on moving here soon enough, but I'm just amazed at the land of lush.

This day.

Epic.

Sorta like a 2nd honeymoon, along with a monumental moment of climbing that mountain I've been working so hard to climb.

I have arrived.

Papi's at it again!

First off, I have to say I'm sorry there aren't any pictures to show you yet.  Papi and I have been having so much fun that there just hasn't been time to get any computer time in.

which is the point i think?  so why am i here?!

However, I felt the need to get here and say hi to 'you', my imaginary friend, so here I am.  Papi is up doing money things.  For some reason, my card won't work here.

eek! the people love us, but the atm doesn't

I have to vent now.  I'm on holiday.  I shouldn't have to deal with tranny issues, right?

not if papi can help it ... my love has my undivided attention

Somehow I'm being held hostage by the Tranny Terrorist, who is yakking about things I just don't want to think about.

The chin hair.

I look at it frequently.  It's hard to take my eyes off it.  Now I will admit that there is definitely more there than there was before.

Then there was the back of the leg hair that just jumped out and decided to give us a scare.

jeeeeeeeezus!  where the fuck did that come from?!?!?!

I've been strict with Papi about shaving leg hair because I still want to hang on to my butch for as long as I can.  I would never date anyone with the hairy lesbian look, so I've not wanted my love to have any hair there.

It will look quite ridiculous if my love has upper leg hair and no lower leg hair, you know what I mean?!?!?

So I suppose the 'rules' are changing.

I did catch a glimpse of the 'male' my love is morphing into.  It was a bit disastrous for me.  It made me want to cry about the life I'm losing.

While we were enjoying our time, we saw two very pleasing fags who looked to be completely in love.  It made my heart melt.  I had pride that in this day and age, we queers can show our love in public without fear.

to a point ...

Then I realized that Papi and I would never be seen as the sweet dyke couple anymore.  I will now be just the boring straight girl.  I will no longer be the femme.

It really is difficult here in the Dominican when men won't speak to me when it's Papi and I together.  They speak to my love as the 'man' and I am just the sidekick wife.  I am not equal.

It is really hard to be seen as a straight couple, and I'm having my first glimpse of forever being just that.

One thing that was really strange today was seeing my love's beautiful breasts in a different light.

Papi finally bared those gorgeous breasts and I looked at them with contradiction.  They really didn't look like they belonged.

I've never seen this before, but there it was.  Papi is really just having a breast reduction in a different way.  They're not going to hang and flop like some dude who has man tits.  They'll be perk and flat.

As a matter of fact, that sweet belly of Papi's will be sticking out more than those flat pectorals.

Ok.

So, there's some good, some bad, some strange, but overall?

I'm not feeling the grief quite as much as I thought I would with The Countdown to doomsday.  I'm just enjoying my time with Papi.  I'm looking at the beginning of my life changing along with Papi.  It's terrifying and I want to resist, but I'm still going along with this crazy ride.

Except for when Papi starts asking things like, "Ok, so when we're in Florida and the operation is done, you have to contact 'x' and 'x' and 'x' and tell them I'm ok."

Then when I don't answer my love asks, "Why aren't you speaking?"

"Because my dear.  I'm on holiday.  There will be no Tranny Terrorism while I'm on holiday."

Kids with guns?

I am so happy to be in the warm.  My injuries are so grateful.

The crests of the ocean dance with me, bobbing up and down, pulling me further into the barren blue.  Yet I am not a mermaid, so I must resist against being taken from Papi, into the sea forever.

I feel closest to nature when I'm in an ocean that moves me.  This is a force that I could never battle.

Oh, last night's dinner was something else.

The first thing that greeted us at the restaurant door was a full pig on a platter.

Yup.

Head and all.

I haven't been vegetarian for over 10 years now, but that almost threw me back into the world of tofu.

Even my fish still had a head on it.  I looked into it's eye and apologized, "I'm so sorry, but I need to eat, and it wasn't me who killed you."

I had pumpkin soup that was so good I will never be able to eat squash soup in Vancouver again.

Papi is having troubles with showing breasts.  I didn't think I'd ever see the day when my love would feel the inability to bare those beautiful peaks.

My love has been wearing a tank top into the water and on the beach.  "I just don't want to show them."

I suppose it's because my love now sees the end is coming for them and they'll never be in the way again.  Now mi esposo won't be mistaken for a woman until they hear the more feminine than masculine voice.

People do call Papi 'sir' until they hear that voice, then look down and see breasts.  Now, they'll still be confused, but will probably stick with the male pronouns.

Ronnie, the towel boy said, "Your friend there, how long you both stay?"

I replied, "Papi's mi esposo and we'll be here for 2 weeks."

Ronnie was confused, "Esposo or esposa?"

"Esposo," I said, with an extra emphasis on the 'o' to be sure he got it.

"That is your husband?"

"Pretty much."

Papi laughed when I told the story.  We both know that Ronnie will now be talking about this with everyone and they will soon figure out what's going on.

good ... figure it out for yourselves and don't ask me any more questions ... i'm on holiday

However, on the way to the pool, after our wonderful play date with the waves, a man came walking up and looked at Papi and said, "Oh, beautiful!"  He was enthralled with my love.  As I said before, I'd much rather have that than homophobia.

It's perfect weather here.  My all time favourite temperature.  Wind will take the edge off of the sun for small moments, then the heat will return to warm my muscles and heal my wounds.

I never did tell you about the car ride to the resort.

We got stopped at a light and some teen boys ran toward the car crouching down disguising objects in their hands as they approached.  They were hell bent for our vehicle and we knew it.

Papi cried, "Lock your doors!!  For the love of god!!"

I yelled, "Fuck they've got guns!  Those kids have fucking guns!!"

They ran straight for our windows as my heart pounded with fear.

They started cleaning our windshield.

No guns.  Only deprived kids who need to earn money with sponges and soap.

I pointed at the brat though my side window and said, "Malo!"  Then I shook my finger at him and he giggled with that smirk that says, 'you know love me.'

Papi gave them a dollar and that was it.  They weren't leaving until they got more.  I tried to tell them to bugger off but they ignored me, continuing to prod Papi for more cash.

kids know the sucker ... always ...

Finally, the light turned green, and we drove off laughing about it ever since.

It was so ridiculous, but honestly, it really did look like they were coming in to hijack our car.

Paranoid much?

Dear Facebook Stalker:

It's so beautiful here in the land of lush.

It's always brutal to get through the rude stares of people in the airport.  It always seems that this is where the coddled people of the world come out.

what? you've never seen a tranny before? close your fucking mouth ... and yes that IS the stink eye death stare i'm giving you.

It's such a strange experience being in a building with people from all over the world and such different places in life.

We drove to Seattle, where one of the sweetest, most generous friends from the Trust List gave us a ride to the airport.  She seemed to think that we could just show up a half hour before the flight and we'd be fine.

Damn good thing Papi and I are anxiety ridden.  We made sure we got a move on, and damn!  That check out point is where all your time goes.

not sure why the lady chose ME to give the pat down and swiping of hands to look for bomb material ... nobody else got the special attention ... maybe she thought i was cute

We flew from Seattle over the clouds to Newark ...

i always wanna call it norwalk 

... and when we got to our first hotel, it was full.  We were directed next door.  They had a room for us at the lovely Sheraton circa 1980.

While waiting to check in, who's the entertainment on the tv?  Chaz Bono.

Yup.

I may be on vacation, but I'm still forced to face my tranny issues.

Apparently, his wife had a hard time dealing with this as well.  I'm finding the only femmes who don't, are either a Tranny Chaser or Rah-Rah Tranny.

Anyway, Chaz's wife started drinking again to deal with the pain.  I'm so grateful that I chose THIS route to walk my way to healing.

One strange thing that I've really noticed about the Dominican Republic, is the interest the men here have for Papi.  They look at my love with lust that I have never seen by any of the gawking critters that look at mi esposo with that stare of 'wtf'?

Honestly though, I can't tell who they're more leering towards; the tranny or the blonde.  Don't come on to me.  Go ahead and stare, but dammit, keep your paws and words to yourself.

Seriously though, a couple of times, I really felt like telling some of these men to back off my butch!  So strange how they feel this animalism towards Papi, but honestly?  I'd rather have that than the homophobia we experienced in the airport.

Here's where it gets fucked up for me though.

Papi has a Facebook admirer.

The first Tranny Chaser.

Oh fuck ya.

Here it comes.

Seriously you bitches.  You might be lovin' the Papi cuteness, but you so much as lay a hand on my love, and all that anger that I'm feeling about my love morphing from that beautiful butch I married into the tranny I don't know, will be served on a platter of pain.

Trust me.

I'm not normally a jealous person, I mean really, I can't make anyone love me and if Papi falls out of love with me, I would have to accept it.  But if you Tranny Chasers think you'll be able to move on in because you like what you see, you'll painfully witness everything I've been through for the past 5 months.

YOU don't get to move on in after all i've gone through to fight for my love.

I hated seeing this jealous side of me come out.

Papi?  "I kinda liked it.  I've never seen you jealous.  It's good to know you'd fight for me."

maybe i should be wearing the secret Tranny Lover t-shirt

Yes my love.  I adore you more than the awesome local Dominican coffee I'll be experiencing tomorrow morning.

You're all mine, with cream and sugar.

Tomorrow is a great day.

Egg.

Sauce.

Ted.

Yeah.

Exhausted.

I'm earning my holiday that's for sure.  10 hour shifts are rough for this aching body that hasn't been working for 2 and a half years.

I so miss 'you', my imaginary friend.

I feel my time with you is being squashed by that four letter word.

Say it with me and say it loud.

WORK!

It truly is a four letter word.

In 24 hours, I'll be officially on holiday and on my way to the Dominican Republic.  I'm so looking forward to the warm.

But mostly, I'm just looking forward to quality time with Papi, processing time for The Countdown, and relaxation.

I wish I had more to say, but honestly, there won't even be dinner tonight.

Bed beckons.

I can't wait to speak to you from some airport somewhere.  I have no idea where our first stop is.

:)

But you'll be there with me.

Oh,  by the way, May 11th is my sobriety date.  Tomorrow I'll be 12 years clean 'n sober.

Life is good.

Beware! Closets shrink clothes!!

Packed!

And ready to go ...

We don't leave until Thursday at 3 a.m., but within those 4 days, I will be working 40 hours.

eek!

I may need to have a chats with 'you', my imaginary friend, in the evening hours of relaxation.  There will be no morning coffee chats for this femme before we leave.

it will be frazzled around the edges Andréa.

As we were packing, my dear love realized that all the clothes from last year's vacation don't fit.

those damn cookies and ice cream with a lack of exercise will get'cha every time my dear ...

Poor Papi was suffering, trying to find the right fit of clothing that will be comfortable in the heat of the Dominican.

do i get my 'i told'ja so' now?

I suppose it's easier for me to keep the weight off considering the fact that I'm completely, 100% obsessed and OCD with my eating disorder.

I can feel 5 extra pounds, and they don't make me happy.  I abolish them!

However, regardless of the pain of finding mi esposo's wardrobe shrinking over the past year, there was a much bigger problem.

Breasts.

Papi has no way of concealing those beautiful sacks of joy.  Although, to give my love credit, Papi gets an 'A' for effort for trying.

Mi esposo has spent countless dollars buying fighting chance after chance of those 'somethings' out there that will cloak those mammaries.

Nothing has really worked so far.

It's been more like we've returned to the days of corsets, only the roles have been reversed.

Every binding effort comes with a doting wife pulling down that stiff nylon article.  Skin is chaffed as it violently rubs and squashes those breasts into deformed pancakes.

I really can't see anyone being able to get those buggers on without help.  They're brutal!!

Papi gave up on them.

All they really did  was push all the breast fat toward the shoulders and it looked like fat was oozing out of the top of t-shirts, work shirts, even sweatshirts.

sexayyyyyy

Well, the one we tried last night for swimming in, was truly horrid.  It was more like a middle age torture version of today's Spanx that women wear to hide the areas that the gym workouts can't reach.

abandon binder!

Papi looked truly defeated.  I felt so deeply for my love and this binding failure.

Then what I was waiting for came out, "Will you be really uncomfortable if I go topless?"

I replied no, but I know it will be a different story when we get there.

I'll be cringing when the prudes and religious zealots go insane and say nasty things or leer with hatred.  I'll also be getting my boxing gloves out when men think it's an invitation to get a woody.

I guess my last days with those breasts will be going out with a bang.

Maybe it will make it easier to say goodbye?

Perhaps.

Or maybe I'm just never happy.

alas, the high maintenance femme ...

I'll see what I want

Another added Trust List friend.

She came over last night to keep me company, have a chat, just be with me.  She had seen me on the never-ending day, and asked if I'd like to hang out for a talk.

This is someone who has a very similar heart to mine.  I almost called this gem in December while I was feeling suicidal.  I knew she'd understand, because she has also frequented the Pit of Doom.

More than once.

We are kindred hearts.  I've always been attracted to her energy, yet somehow we just have never bonded.  It's just the way it goes.  Right place at the right time brings what you need in life.

You never really know what you need until it hits you.  It's at that point you have the 'ah-ha' moment.

Last night we talked a mile a minute without so much as a break in the conversation.  We could barely catch our breath in our repartee, because there was too much to share.  There was too much to agree with in each other.  There was so much in fact that we really need a few more of those hangouts to even catch up to each other to get on the page.

You know the page.

The one where you don't even have to say anything to know what the other one means?  We were almost there last night.

We have just been waiting in the wings for the opportunity to come together and now is that time.

She is very much like me in the sense that she will upfront ask a butch if they intend to transform into an  F-M.  She's attracted to the androgyny just as I am.  She wants the anomaly of this beauty.

She doesn't want to be with a transgendered person who will change into someone else before her eyes.

Papi just doesn't understand this.  "But, I'm still me," mi esposo will plead.

Yes, my love, inside you are.  But outside you are becoming a stranger.  I married the perfect butch.  I was ready to live happily ever after with my butch.

I got to be married to my butch for 4 months.

enter the morph ...

I adore my love.  I cherish every piece of that sweet soul that I'm so fortunate to love, and be loved by.

As my tears fall, Papi's will well up with the sorrow of hurting me.  "I'm so sorry I'm doing this to you."

"You're not doing anything to me my love.  It's just our path in our relationship."

I will always see my love as the butch I married.  Papi can become as masculine as the next, but I will always hold the wife I married in my heart.

This is the reason for my resistance.

I battle all notions of this male I must accept, so that I may win the fight to see what I want to see.

My butch.

This person behind the mask.

When my added Trust List heart and I spoke about The Countdown, she made me realize something.  I was actually ok with Papi have top surgery before the news that there would be a transition.

I suddenly felt the removal of my love's breasts would negate the feminine side of my dear butch.

No, this is not the case.

My love has never had a true feminine side.  My love has always been a masculine woman.

The Countdown is really about the finality of loss.

I'm mourning because it is the signification of the end.

I have to accept this ending.  I have to say goodbye to my butch.  It will be at this point that people will see Papi as more male.

Me however?

I'll see my butch, minus a bit of chest fat.

'Good' Morning?

I woke with anxiety.

The rushing of blood through my heart pounded and I wondered why I'm having this experience.

the sleeping pills should've done their job dammit!

Then my first thought ran to a cheesy song I wrote for 'Ms. Thing'.  It's titled "I'm In Love" and it's a silly little ditty that I wrote for this comedy.

So strange to go from anxiety to silly in a matter of seconds, but that's what this brain of mine does.  That's why I need sleeping pills to keep it tame.

It didn't take long for my mind to walk over to The Countdown.  No, it was a short jaunt to that part of my psyche.

I realized at that point that there's no use in staying in bed with a pounding heart and wandering mind.

I realized that I would be able to have enough time to speak to 'you', my imaginary friend, if I actually got my ass out of bed.

I made my breakfast with coffee and sat down with you.

My heart however?

Still pounding.

We leave in less than a week to go to the Dominican Republic.

damn good thing because this winter that never seems to end is really pissing me off.

Normally, a vacation creeping up on you and taking you by surprise would be a wanted thing.  But I don't look forward to this day.

My hands shake thinking about what comes next.

My vacation is only a goodbye to my love's breasts.  This is my time to have all the time I need without interruption.

It will be a beautiful site with luscious trees and beautiful people, but it's the beginning of farewell.

Yesterday, Papi posted a new profile pic.  It almost had me in tears.  My love looks more like a male and it killed me.

I love the anomaly of androgyny.  It's what I'm attracted to.  My love has this, but now the pendulum seems to be swinging toward one side more than the other.

Papi is definitely looking more masculine.

This picture is just another reminder of this path.

My love asked me if I liked it.

I had to be honest, "No, it doesn't look like you."

One of the comments under this picture was from someone from the Trust List.  It read, "My kids said you look like a bloke."

My love's reply, "I've always liked your kids."

I love those kids too.

but do you have to encourage this?!?!

Papi.

My sweet butch.

Disappearing.

The Silence of the Lambs

She said, "It's not that we didn't notice you disappeared, it's just that we wanted to give you your space.  I wouldn't want to taint you with the pain I felt when I had to go through it, because maybe your experience was different."

maybe i'm a rah-rah-tranny and you're afraid i would judge you adversely?

My response started my tears, "But I needed to know you were there.  I needed to hear that I'm not horrible for the feelings I have."

Like a big sister who had walked my path before, I heard, "We're taught NOT to speak about it.  We're taught that the person transitioning needs support.  We're taught that we need to be the strong one, because we're not supposed to be hurt by this."

My fire grew deeper, "I will not be silenced."

No, I will not stay dormant while my love changes into the person I didn't marry.  I will be there when another person feels there is nobody to talk to.

I will scream from the mountains, "This fucking hurts like hell!"

You Rah-Rah-Trannies will have another thing coming if you think that you're the only ones that get to be heard.

My time has come.

All of those that feel that I should be the supportive wife, the person who just 'takes' it with a smile, the quiet mouse who must grieve in silence, lest I hurt the transgendered person's feelings will not win.

I'm hurting.

I'm terrified.

I'm grieving.

I'm losing my sweet butch I married.

No, this I can promise you; I will not be silenced.

I received another email last night from a sweet soul who saw me on that day that lasted an eternity.  She wrote, "I've never seen you looking so fragile and so sad before.  I just want to know if you're ok."

I wrote back in honesty that I was not ok.  I'm hurting, and that day was an awful day to live.

Another one that may be added to the Trust List.  They just keep coming.

Maybe it's because I need the support now that the countdown has arrived.  Maybe my energy is pulling those toward me because this will be a difficult time.  Maybe I need them.

Maybe I pushed everyone away for those 6 weeks.  Maybe they were my first steps to laying down and commencing the wanting of death.

Maybe now I'm learning to ask for help.

maybe?

All I know is, I thought the hardest part was over.  I thought that acceptance would be the biggest hurdle.

Oh no, it is not.

I'm counting the days until the symbol of my love's femininity has been torn from me.

Papi is starting to get Helium Voice.  The voice that all F-Ms get when the hormones start to transform them into more of a male being.

I've told mi esposo how much I hate that voice.  It's coming and my love is excited.

I'm doing my best just to ignore it.

It's hard however, when Papi is jumping up and down like a child on X-Mas morning, "Can you hear it?!  It's coming!  You have to admit it's coming!!"

No my love, I don't have to admit it.

I have to deal with it.

Shadow Boxing

Need I say I had an emotional day yesterday?

Isn't it just a given now that the emotions become overwhelming and that 'you', my imaginary friend must listen?

It was emotional yesterday.

I feel that every day is inching toward the end.  One day runs into the next and The Countdown is shrinking.

I had plans to be with 2 (and I believe I will be adding one more from last night) of my most recent Trust List friends.  I needed this.  I needed to be in an environment where the power femmes understood me.  Those who had traveled this road prior and can merely look into my eyes without saying a word, and their insides cry for me.

They understand.

I almost didn't make it.  Papi had a horrible happening at the safe house.  One of the clients there passed away while my love was working, but mi esposo just thought this client was sleeping.  Hell!  I would too!  It's the middle of the night for chrissakes.

However, Papi got the phone call that there was a deceased person, and they didn't know if it was suicide or an accidental overdose.  This poor soul has been suicidal from pain for a long time.

The hardest part of this?  Papi's bff is the niece.  This bff is also coming to stay with us for a couple of months while she works on getting her life together and gets her permanent home.  She will also be looking after our critters while we're away.

Papi dashed out the door to go rescue the bff and left me in the dust.

Left me in my pajamas saying, "I'm not sure what time I'll be home or anything.  I don't know if she needs me to take her to her family or not."

My plans were canceled.  I live quite far from all my friends.  Vancouver is a pretty spread out city and I'm at the furthest end.

I was almost in tears and felt a bit like a child ready to have a temper tantrum.  My opportunity to be with my femmes crushed.  My early dinner with allies would not be happening, as an emergency has arisen.

I felt so selfish that I was feeling left out and left behind.

it's not always about you, miss thing

I was looking forward to this dinner ever since those two became a part of the Trust List.

Papi stopped in with the fragile bff, mourning the loss of her aunt, and decided to drive me to the dinner and pick me up later.

I was grateful for this, but I was in such a negative mood, I wasn't sure I should go.

that black cloud is not sexy

I went.

I cried.

I ate mushy food with my tongue.

I laughed.

I was loved.

I choked on food that was too big to go down my esophagus whole.

fucking braces ... when do i get to chew?!?!?!

Papi's caretaking of the bff was finished, I was picked up from the dinner and then my love had a new surprise to deal with.

oh no papi, you don't get just one person having a meltdown today ... your caretaking hasn't ended

I broke down and reverted back to the fears, tears and pain.

"You're taking away my wife, my beautiful butch I married.  Every part of this that you do changes who you are piece by piece."

The tears came from my toes.  My heart ached, but Papi just kept saying, "I'm so sorry.  I love you so much."

My love's biggest fear is that I'm going to leave.

No.  I'm a fighter.  I'll stay.

Even if I'm in the boxing ring fighting myself.

I make a mean opponent.