ah forums. so full of useless crap.

It was either:

a) the gads of wasabi I stuffed down my throat at my Thursday Lunch with my mother that burned it out of my head

or,

b) the sweetest going away gift that I received from my Eternal Friend that melted my heart so greatly that it chased the pain away

or,

c) the love note I wrote to my migraine, leaving it no option but to abort the mission when it felt the positivity that oozed from my blood.

or,

d) all of the above, with the timing of the migraine choosing to have run its course.

Whatever it was, my head definitely feels a bit lighter today.

I can still feel it, but it's definitely not morphine worthy at this point.  I still took a tiny bit to make sure I didn't launch into puking from withdrawal.  I also didn't want that nasty rebound headache you get from taking the poison out of your system.

I don't need to write a love note to my body for going through withdrawal.  I've already met my love note quota.

Anyway, I woke up feeling a bit better, only to receive panicked texts from Papi.

You know how EVERYTHING you read on the internet is true?

Papi got a dose of it today and it scared the shit out of him, and in turn, he tried to bring my migraine back with stress and fear.

"Talked on the forums, looks like we need a guard.  They poison the dogs and then rob.  A big fence is going up!!!"

I rolled my eyes at Papi, even though he couldn't see me, because he's sleeping off the Graveyard Coma.

I decided to read on with what he wrote a few seconds later, "I think we made a mistake not getting in gated community."

Sorry Papi, but we are going to be enjoying Casa Paraíso.  No mistakes what-so-ever.

The next text showed Papi's disdain through the four little letters, "Fuck!!!"

Now I giggled at Papi, wishing he wasn't asleep so I could remind him we wouldn't have beachfront property in a gated community, nor would we be allowed the gads of dogs we want to adopt, because some control freak with a pickle up her ass wants to make sure she gains the respect now that she didn't have in high school.

Three and a half hours of obsessing later, he wrote, "Pay Albert to watch the house??"

Seems logical.  We want to employ our DR family somehow, but the way I see it, Albert will be there full time trying to teach this gringo how to garden, anyhow.

He had three more hours of consuming worry before he wrote the last text, "We should return your laptop.  It will be stolen.  I think our 2 computers is too much as it is!  I'm selling my gold necklace here.  I will make you read the DR1 thread about safety in the DR.  I will not get a safe because that will attract people.  I wish the gun shop was open on Sundays!"

Well, that pissed me off.

Papi, sell your own damn computer.

I need to make our documentary of our travels and you're always hogging your computer with your Facebook and Sims-O-Rama-Banana-Fana-Ding-Dong-Land infatuation.

Seriously.

The people who are writing these things are just trying to put the fear into you that someone else put into them.

Misery loves company and bored people are everywhere.

These people need a migraine.  That would shut them up for a while.

Papi has the worst anxiety I've ever known in a person.  He's not a candidate to be going on these forums full of people trying to scare one another.

There's always 'that guy' who likes to instil panic in others.

He's probably sitting in his mother's basement, snickering about all the people he's terrified, because he's jealous of the fact that he hasn't taken any risks in life, other than eating the moldy sandwich that he stuffed under his bed for safe keeping, just in case his mother ever kicked off.  Lord knows he's never had a reason to make is own sandwich, never mind do his own laundry.

Besides, like I've maintained from the start, if we treat the 'community' there like our own family, why would they treat us any less than their own?

No, we're not going to hide away, we are going to engage in living WITH our neighbours.

Great.  The pain is back.  At least I had a good run of bitching for a few minutes there.

Bring on the morphine.

i surround myself with people who treat me well