Storm has passed.

So.

I scraped my way out of the Pit of Doom.  Fortunately, Papi was there to save the day when my pain killer packed smoothie spilled all over my composing desk.

Yeah.  That was a nice effect to put on the already fucked up day.

Oh, and the reason I was in my music room was because I was going to try to compose to take my mind off everything.

Alas, my cords have gone missing from the video and I had no AC to make music.

So.

I spent half the day crying tears of frustration.

I spoke to me dear aunt who stopped the tears with some chuckles.

I stared at the wall, drooling for a few hours.

I finally got hungry and I made some dinner.

I am still on a quest to make Papi healthy food that he likes.  Last night I made my usual steamed veggies with quinoa, and some broiled chicken.

I was thrilled that my love was even entertaining eating my lovely organic veggies on this day, so the steamer was put together with ardor!

Carrots on his side, kale on my side, shared broccolini and daikon in the center, and a nice sweet pile of quinoa on top to heat with the steam.

I excitedly brought the dish to my love, even though it looked boring in comparison to mine.  I like a little tahini drizzled on top for added calcium and protein.

True to any spoiled child, I heard, "There are people who eat things separately, and people who eat things together.  I'm one of the people who eats things separately."

listen mother fucker, i just spent a day sobbing over bureaucratic bullshit, and made you and i a nice dinner ... eat the fucking food and be grateful for fucks sakes!

Papi is a manchild.  If I want my Tranny Terrorist to eat well, I have to suffer the supper of perfection.

"It's just that I don't like all my food mushed together in the same plate!  I want to eat each thing separately so that I can only taste one thing at a time."

Oh, dearest Papi.

You make me forget all about what I was upset over, with your zany ways.

My love had a great idea for our evening.  He brought out the Wii Guitar Hero.

This game is insanity for any actual musician.  The beats are counter-intuitive.  You actually have to play the note ahead of where it should be.  I sucked!!  I wanted to play on the beat!!!

So, after failing a few times and letting down my band mate, because I was playing music the way it should be, I was demoted to singer.

This should have been better, except the songs were stuff I'd never heard before.

I sounded like a polecat in heat.

So bad in fact, that Sir Bark-A-Lot actually started to howl when I'd follow that little line up when it told me to.

As I crooned with the rat dog, Papi was trying to maintain his composure and nail his guitar hooks, the Bucket Head whined, and the cats ran around trying to find shelter from the pain of the din.

It was perfect.  It was exactly what I needed.

I was able to finally laugh at the end of the day.  It may have taken me all day to get to the point of my daily mantra, but I did it.

I laughed.

This morning I'm feeling much better, because 'today' is the 'tomorrow' I waited for 'yesterday'.

It's always a better day 'tomorrow', and besides, there's no mail to bring me down today.

All I have to worry about is getting my love, the new found chauffeur, to drive me around, considering I temporarily have no license.

That and trying to figure out how the fuck I'm going to make food for Papi 'his way' so he'll eat the goddam veggies!!!

'Today' is good.  I weathered the storm of Hurricane Andréa, and lived to tell the story.

i have hope ... i am able to see hope