Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Oh ... so ...

... hungry.

My body isn't quite back on track on my food cleanse.  I went crazy the last few years after my accident eating every food I'm allergic to ...

except dairy ... I just can't damage myself for that one ...

... and finally, my body told me to cut it out.

So I did.

But the caffeine, sugar and carb withdrawal is brutal.

And I'm bitchy.

Over the top 'I can't handle it' bitchy.

I have to do the 'breathing' thing to make sure I don't verbally abuse the G'ma.

who incessantly talks about how bad the attic stairs are, how she can't turn the tv on and the bird seed needing to be removed ... 

It always starts like this: 

please use your best old lady voice in your head to make sure you get the full effect

G'ma watches me come up or down our dungeon stairs and says, "My they really did a great job with the carpet on your stairs.  Why can't we put that carpet on the stairs going up?"

Every fucking time.

I've tried to explain that my brain injury doesn't work well with narrow stairs and how I fell down them a few times because the carpet didn't hold my unstable footing.  I've tried saying, "If you don't like the look of them, don't look."

Oh, I've tried everything.


As soon as she got as far as, "My they really did a great job with the carpet on your stairs.  Why can't we ..."

I gave her the hand, then, "I don't want to hear it."

She kept trying with, "But," and I kept the hand up saying, "No.  I don't want to hear about the carpet every day.  It's not going up and if you don't like it don't look."

"But," and the hand came up again.  Then the old bird laughed, "I'll try not to say anymore about the stairs."

It was a nice gesture, but I know that it will only last 10 minutes.

Regardless, my cranky 'I'm so hungry' moment got a little overheated and I was thinking I did really well with Papi yesterday when I was off work and ready to keel over from starvation.

There stood my love with only boxers on and a camera in hand as soon as I came down those 'My they really did a great job with the carpet' stairs.

As I walked past my love I asked, "What's this all about?" in regards to my au naturel esposo.

I need you to take pictures of the 'after' pictures for the clinic.

the papirazzi is ready for their action shots!

Papi stood proudly, exposing The Great Breast Disappearance, and I snapped pictures with every shading of flash I could find via it's adjustments.

Again I was surprised.

My love and I giggled through the process and I didn't have any moments where my hair stood on end with the ouch factor looking at the still pink scars.

I'm coming along.

I think what I'm realizing is that because my love is going through the changes with me, I'm ok, because Papi is still here by my side.

I know I wouldn't do this again, because I wouldn't do this for just anyone.

Only my soul mate.

This is an amazing person who wants the world to know that **enter pronoun here** not slut-phobic and that **enter pronoun here** loves sluts.

Papi likes sluts.

There ya go Papi.

I fixed it for you.


  1. You amaze me. I was so not expecting that.

  2. Nice post A. Just really nice and fuzzy. ;)

  3. jamie, i never expect anything these days :)

    psycho, thank you, it was the nicest i could be in my current state of bitch from hell hehehe

  4. verrrrrrrrry funny rafa ... and in other news ... the g'ma is still alive.


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