By the light of the moon ...

There's a very good reason for why I don't celebrate my birthday.

It's not because I've kept the secret of my age for so long and I'm afraid to admit I have a few crow's feet.

they're starting to look a little more like eagle claws with all the stress goin' on over here!!!! 

I don't celebrate my birthday, because there are so many expectations attached to the day.

It must be a fun day.

It must be filled with friends who adore me.

It must be a massive, positive celebration of how wonderful life is.

However, every birthday would come and all my expectations would be blown to bits, and I'd wind up crying in my beer.

That was, of course, in between chain smoking joints, and the beer could be exchanged with any other alcoholic beverage I could get my hands on, because it was my birthday dammit!  And I was going to be half lit so I couldn't remember any of it.

I stopped celebrating my birthday somewhere before I got clean and sober, and when that day would come along, I would silently tell myself how good my life is at that very moment in time.

Yeah, it hurt when nobody gave me a surprise party, but you know, nobody can give me a surprise party if they don't know when my birthday is.

See where I'm going with this?

Well, I'm shown again, that it's not ideal to place expectations on any day here on planet earth.  Life makes it's own decisions on how our day goes, and we have absolutely no control over it.

I was an utter emotional wreck, feeling like everything my love said was proposed in an angry manner.  The P.T.S.D. that I worked so hard to bridle was in full swing, and panic attacks were in abundance while being on the road, coupled with Papi telling me he had issues about this date as well.

This date represents so much for both of us, and I forgot that the other half of this relationship had to live through the motorcycle accident as well.

You'd think I would consider this, seeing as how I'm always fighting to be the other half that is respected in Papi's male transformation.

I mean really!  My love had to take care of me for a long time, from November 22, 2008 forward.  It's not that he is resentful for the time I had to be coddled, it's just that our life as we knew it changed on this day.

Mi esposo had a much different partner before this Living Day, as I was very strong emotionally and physically when Papi and I started dating.

On top of all of the above, this day is also the exact date that Papi started taking hormones, and I suppose I was too narcissistic about my Living Day, that I didn't pay attention to what was going on.

Consequently, I found out about the testosterone a few days later, and a psycho spouse was born, blubbering and catatonic in the La-Z-Boy, complete with drool and tears that could be confused for the epic snot from crying so much.

Not to mention the swollen eyes I'd wake to every day.

So, this is what this day brings for us.

My love and I don't ever fight, because we tend work things out with communication and humour.

However, on this day, Papi and I had the worst communication fail possible.  I wound up in tears and my love wound up feeling like he had to walk on egg shells, between saying the words I took as anger.

We had a ridiculous fights about nothing what-so-ever, really.

My day of gratitude ended when I swept The Golden's hair off the floor, and the rest of the day was a write-off.

Yet, it was still better than where I was 3 years ago.

And this, is the reason why I should probably take the same attitude with my Living Day that I take with my birthday: No expectations.

But hey, the evening got better, and I was also privileged to witness the full moon of the Tranny Terrorist.

That was Papi's way of making me laugh, and it worked.

Sorry I don't have pictures.