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

These are the days that are 'work'.

Oh dear.

This may be a tough day.

My Gratitude Buddy sent me my daily mantra:

laughter is great medicine.  today let's laugh at our mistakes, past and present

First thing I thought of was how angry I get about lids.

Yes.

Lids.

I have this inability to get a lid on with one try.  They fly off the bottle or jar, straight to the ground.  Either when I'm taking it off, or trying to put it back on.

I am 'ill-lid-erate'.

It's one of the most frustrating things in my day, because it happens all day, every day, no matter how hard I try.

As I meandered out of my bedroom, I thought to myself, "Ok, Andréa.  We're going to laugh at every lid that flies across the floor today."

I proceeded up the stairs with the Bucket Head to let him out for his tinkle, while I checked the mail, turned on the heat and fed Psycho Kitty.

It's my morning routine.

But who's the mother fucker who pissed in my fucking cornflakes?!?!?

I opened the first envelope and read a letter telling me my driver's license has been revoked, and I need testing again because of my brain injury.

I opened a 2nd letter that told me I'm not qualified for  disability tax credit, so I owe the government money.

The 3rd letter told me the same thing, only I owed less than the first letter.

Laugh?

No.

Cry.

I'm having withdrawal from the nerve meds, which leaves my temper with less than normal strength to 'manage'.

Jeeeeeezus.  There's so little in there to 'manage' on a good day.  It's all my strength to think positive!

I spoke a bit with My Gratitude Buddy, and true to an awesome friend, she reminded me of another mantra.

you have to fight through the bad days to earn the best days of your life

Indeed.

This instantly took my out of control emotions that were quickly looking like we could have a sighting of Hurricane Andréa, and took it down a notch.

It's just a bad day.

That's all this is, coupled with a short fuse from withdrawal.

This is a test.

This is only a test.

Had this been a real disaster, my love would have woken up completely when I asked for support around the three letters.

Instead, Papi just rolled over and told me it will be fine, and continued where he left off mid-snore.

One thing I know is, just like when my back flares up and I have to do extra to get it to calm down, my mind is no different.

My mind can be just as seized as my back muscles.

I have to exercise my brain.

I have to rewire it to think of the positive in my life.

So, I'll start by reading my mirror.

You know the one that I covered up to shut that bitch the Anorexia Monster up?

Here ya go.

I'll share it with you.

Now I have to convince my mind that all of the above is true.

I don't like cornflakes anyway.

Warning: heart melting pics alert!

I'm such a fucking Negative Nelly!

See what I just did there?

I proved it in one sentence and at the same time, I insulted myself.

Nothing really new.

What is new is that I'm trying to silence the abusive voice that frequents my existence!

I was sparked with a rejuvenation of positive energy when I found the site, Positively Positive.

I've been keeping up with My Gratitude Buddy daily, but yesterday I had an idea to step things up a notch.

We're still continuing to share our gratitude list daily, and we're both starting to think more positively thanks to writing out the things we're grateful for.  However, we've decided to add in a daily mantra to focus on.

I chose today's mantra:

I'm stronger than I think.

I'll tag it at the end of my blob/blabs in case you want to join us.

I've been thinking negatively about Papi's health.  It's not going to help things if I continue reminding myself of worst case scenario.

So, for today, I'm stronger than I think.

Yesterday, not so much.

It was such a sad day for The Golden yesterday.

He had surgery to remove one helluva lump that sprouted an extra head.  It sorta looked like it was on a mission for world domination!

look at his war wound!!!!

He's getting pretty old, so of course, things are cropping up for the aged ol' One Eye.

Old man lumps, hips starting to go, less energy and the classic old dog ghost face.

He was so sick and depressed, that he didn't move from one spot.


So, I set him up with his favourite plush toy, Mr Bunny.

This is the teddy he brings out when company comes over.  When he brings you Mr. Bunny, you know he likes you.

Anyway, I set it up right by his head, and the poor ol' thing looked at it with disinterest.  Yet, within a few minutes, this is what I saw:

The old fart was cuddling his toy.

It made me so happy.

I had to get the world's sweetest close up:



Tell me your heart isn't melting!

He's feeling much better this morning.

I actually got a wag out of his tail.


There's nothing worse than a member of your Fuzzy Family feeling bad.

One thing I could live without are the fart bombs that he's overwhelming our air space with.

Good God it's rancid!

Someone bring over gas masks stat!

But at least he's feeling better, as am I, and so is Papi.

This pleases me.

I'm sure I'll have many pics of the Bucket Head effect.  But in the meantime, you can chuckle for 15 seconds of silliness with someone's Bucket Head on YouTube.

Uploaded by ciaraoh1 on Mar 24, 2008

i'm stronger than i think.