only happy when it rains

Everything is in Dominican Time here.

Including my healing.

But my steps are getting stronger, and yesterday, I made my first home cooked meal in 3 months.

Nothing special.

Canned diced tomatoes stewed with onions, garlic and red pepper, over top quinoa.

These past few months of the Papi diet, aka: eating wheat and sugar every day, have taken a toll on Bubble Girl.

My food allergies definitely add to my chemical imbalance.

My obsessing and anxiety are out of control.

Non-stop.

A lovely Blogger Friend, and amazing writer at Lesbians In My Soup!, really got the essence of what I was trying to say yesterday.

I'm only happy when I have something to bitch about.

I bitch about anything.

Everything.

So, when I'm happy about something, you really know it's genuine.

I'm generally a happy person, and on a regular basis, I catch myself off guard thinking to myself, "I really love my life," but I was brought up to bitch and complain.

It's the way I remember my family as a child.

I think the reason the waves have made me crazy, is because I haven't had enough of anything else to focus on.

Lying around like a bloated manatee will do that to me.

I'm not very good at staying still.

I'm also not very sane when you take music away from me.

It's my meditation.

I also need regular exercise to release the endorphins that help me stay on top of my mood swings and eating disorder.

All of a sudden, as I was making healthy food yesterday, followed by playing my piano, I realized I didn't hear those waves all too often.

The white noise disappeared with the crackle of onions and garlic sauteing in my cast iron pan.

The action of cooking drowned out the drone.

Playing my piano, doing my best to memorize lyrics to the 3 Spanish songs I know, really took me away from everything.

Hell, I didn't even hear The 6-pack barking.

And I know THAT never ceases.

So, moral of my story is, this has been a tortuous 3 months with this ankle from hell.

But I'm making healthier meals as of yesterday.

I'm playing my piano as of this week.

I'm taking baby steps without my crutches.

I even started teaching as of Friday that just passed.

No, I am NOT good at sitting still.

This I know.

Maybe now that I'm literally getting back up on my feet and eating healthier I'll stop obsessing as well.

That would be nice.

I can only handle one obsession at a time.

It's time to search for my SuperGirl Panties again.

I know they're in here somewhere.

I suppose I'll have to do the laundry to find them.

I also need a little more music, healthy foods and some gentle, seated yoga.

That should bring me closer to them.

developing healthy eating habits becomes easier every day

Bubble Girl

Hallelujah!  I can walk!

Well, if you can call it 'walk'.

I'm allowed to walk lightly with my crutches and my brace.

My sexy, oh so sexy brace, that I have to wear a stinky sweat sock underneath because this here 'Bubble Girl' is having an allergic reaction to the plastic on the brace.

Seriously.

There isn't much I'm not allergic to.

It's a bit frustrating.

And a bit ridiculous.

I am Bubble Girl.

It's amazing that I've lived this long.

I should be dead by now with all that my body rejects.

If you want to know if something is bad for you, let me try it out.

My body will tell you in a second.

Or a day.  Sometimes, there's a delay.

Anyway, as much as it hurts, I used my ankle a little more today.

Mostly to help out the workers who are busy with our temporary sea shield until we can afford the rocks.

Right now, the workers sound like they're fighting, but that's just men and their machismo ways.

Plus I can't understand all they're saying, so it just sounds like anger.

Speaking of which, Housemaid managed to patch everything up and work her manipulation with the marina, Mr. Extortion.

We're not paying anymore and our DR Family gets to keep their job.

Really, Papi and I figured out that they are indeed family.

Only family can get that upset with each other, then the next day go on about business like nothing happened.

It's sorta the way people are here.

People blow up and have a meltdown about something, then they're friends again the next day.

It really reminds me of heated Italian lovers in a tumultuous relationship.

But I know how Mr. Extortion was tipped off in the first place.

There's this old man who rides around on his motorcycle just being nosy about everything.

He's the one that called Mr. Extortion on us when we first moved here.

Goddammit if our contractor, The Carpenter, didn't hire him to help with the ocean's bandaid!

There he was, all smiles at me today.

I was thinking, "Mother fucker.  You goddamn bastard.  You're the one that gives us trouble all the time!"

I just about tore through the gate to give him a wallop, straight up the ass.

But we all know Bubble Girl on crutches with a sexy, filthy, grey, sweat sock brace can't move very fast.

So, I just cursed him under my breath.

I can't stand the fact that he's working for us and that I have to pay him.

But The Carpenter hired him, and we don't have to pay Mr. Extortion, so I guess I'll just let it be and continue to give him the evil eye when I see him.

Oh, but I will NOT forgive this bastard with nothing better to do than try to cause problems for us.

I HAVE forgiven Housemaid.

I'm hoping that after having to stoop so low as to apologize, that perhaps she'll stop the nonsense and no longer be our worst thief.

And now, Bubble Girl is going to go hand wash clothes, as our brand new washing machine has yet again crapped out on us.

Envy me here in 'paradise'?

i will conduct myself in such a way that i can be proud