silent day

i just realized i never shared episode 38 with you!  here's your sunday sillies a little late

After a few days of grieving heavily for the loss of our little baby-dog, Harley, my time got very busy to help me move on from the sadness and get shit done.

We had to prepare for the village.

It's been an intense week and I have had no time to tell you about everything.

We started off with playing Santa to the children in the village.

But first, we had to drive almost an hour to Puerto Plate to buy the toys.  It was a store Housemaid told us about where the toys are inexpensive and we can get a discount.

That was of course, after the boss finished his chicken.  No talking until his chicken was done.

On the day of giving, we walked out of our yard door to see the entire village of children jumping up and down, arms to the air with tight little fists pumping upon every bounce off the ground.

Of course, Papi and I had Housemaid to help us with wrangling the kids.  As we approached the excited horde of short people, she yelled, "You don't get your presents unless you are at your house!"

Immediately, they ran home to wait eagerly for our arrival.

Later that same day, we were going to give out rum to the adults.  The adults were very insistent about us giving them presents as well.

We also realized we couldn't just give to a few people, that we needed to give a lot more to the rest of the village.

Off we went, credit card in hand and bought a box full of bottles of rum.  Let me tell you, the kids were easy to get back to their houses to wait for their gifts, but the adults?  It was a very insane time.

Grabbing, yelling, frantically wanting their share and trying to get more than we had allotted for for everyone.

Next year, we will be giving out food and care packages instead.

That night, there was quite the party in the village, as we listened to sounds of gunshots.

Well, we thought they were gunshots.

It wasn't until being invited to the party last night that I realized what it was.

Housemaid and Dominican Daddy invited to me the Fiesta de Navidad.

My DR Family fed me a meal, in which they were so generous as to buy special Dominican chicken and rice.

I brought a huge salad, which we topped with the Dominican dressing.

I also brought the grapes, which are like a tradition for the dinner.

Oh, and a few bottles of red wine.

Another tradition is lots of apples.

People are lucky to be able to eat healthy, local, organic produce here, whereas in Canada, these foods are the more expensive of the choices.

Not here.  Instead, junk food is expensive.

Anyway, back to the 'gunshots' I heard.

They have what looks like a bazooka, that is filled with some kind of explosives and they put all kinds of chemicals in and "BOOM!!!" it goes, as I startled with every firing.

Last night, people danced and drank, ate apples and grapes, while sharing their beer with children.

Yes.

Children.

It seems normal to everyone here, but when I saw a father giving beer to his 8 month old baby, it really disturbed me.

What can I do though?  I'm not here to preach about anyone's culture and it seems this is what everyone does with their children.

The party then moved up to the street, where we found the village bar.  Lovely woman serving, who's house is below the establishment.

She invited me in to see her house and while she walked I spoke to her about playing and singing at her bar, reminding her that it would be for free.

It'll be my practise gig when I'm ready in a few months.

Anyway, that has been my week, and rest assured that it was all on video!

Today I settle in for a quiet day, while I wait eagerly to hear from Papi who is somewhere in Vancouver.

And it's a silent day in the village.

The dogs have had nothing to bark at.

i am grateful for the time shared with those who have left to be with angels

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

emasculation

Jeeeeezus ... I needed that.

I needed to look at a beautiful sight of people being happy and enjoying themselves.

I needed The Chef Extraordinaire to fry up some Dominican barbecued chicken, traditional side plate of fried bananas, and purple potato salad.

I've never seen that one before, but I suppose, here, it's normal to put beets in potato salad and it tasted just as good.

They laughed when I said, "Why is it red!?!?!?"

It was torture for me, walking to our spot, but once I was there, the only time I moved was to go pee in the bush like everyone else.

OK.  Forget about drunk crutching through a crowded bar with the potential of slipping in beer.

Let me tell you, if you've never tried to walk with crutches in the beach, it's a feat upon itself.

... hehee pardon the pun ...

It felt like every step I took, I was going to disappear like sliding into quick sand.

Then, once out of the sinking sand, I had to find a spot to piddle, bushwacker style.

Papi held me up by the armpits and I hoped for the best.

I obviously didn't think about the fact that there wouldn't be a toilet on a public beach.  The public beach IS a toilet for most folks who don't have one.

We watched children playing, teens making music with a güira and conga, and hawks flying above us all looking for their feed of fish.

We didn't bring the princess chair when we realized we were the transportation for everyone.  No room for the chair.

But what they do here is rent out chairs and tables at the beach, so we just rented it.

The funny part is, when these folks want to go home, they come and take back their chairs and tables, kicking you off the beach.

It's a riot!

Partway through our fun time, I noticed Papi was getting a little overzealous with the beer, so I stopped my wine intake quite early.

I was now the driver.

Papi said, "But I feel like it emasculates me!  Here the woman can't drive!"

What?!?!  Who are you trying to kid?

When it comes to wheels here, there is no problem to have 3 grown men groin to butt on a motorcycle.

In Canada?  You wouldn't even have ONE male on the back of your bike.

People are so weird about that in Canada and the US.

Here, I've seen women riding scooters with their boyfriends riding bitch.

The men here hug each other.

They touch each other on the arm, waist, whatever.

They wear bright pink, and are more metrosexual than ANY guy I've seen in Canada.

They don't have anything to prove of their sexuality and here, men just seem to come out of the womb macho.  Could have something to do with the fact that they're put to labour as soon as their arms can wield a machete.

Besides, as far as their concerned, there are NO gay people here.

With the exception of the male hookers, but even then, people rationalize, "They're not really gay.  They just need the money."

So, no, Papi, you will ride shotgun when you've drank more than your share.

And off we went with the portable BBQ to drive our newfound friend back to Cabarete, dropping our DR Family off along the way at our tiny little road to our village.

This morning, our new friend who did all the cooking came bay with a gift.  Sweeter than sweet.

There are some really good people here.

Yesterday, I watch the entertainment and forgot about my immobility for a while, not to mention, finished off the filming for this week's YouTube show.

It was wonderful.

In one hour, we go to the hospital to see if this damn cast can come off.

Wish me luck.  Let's hope this is the day I have my legs back.

If it's not, I will do my best to find ways to enjoy myself none-the-less.

Enough of that fucking bed.

i have the ability to see the brighter side

no bueno.

I remember sitting outside a hospital on a rock, waiting for a 'short bus' to come bring my crippled body home after the motorcycle accident.

I felt so vulnerable.

Me with my cane, still very fragile and needing some assistance to walk a short distance.

I was weak.

I was compromised.

I was afraid of the potential people had to prey on an easy target.

I feel it again.

The other day, I went to the hospital, just to 'check out' my ankle, as the swelling and pain weren't going away.

Sure enough, I was told I'd torn the ligament in my ankle, not enough for surgery, but enough that they had to put a cast on it to immobilize it for 3 weeks.

It kinda feels like the 'behave yourself' punishment, for having limped about on a fucked up ankle for a week, ignoring my intuition.

I honestly thought it would just go away on it's own.

I also honestly thought I was over-reacting to the pain.

Turns out, I was under-reacting.

I guess that comes with 4 years of chronic pain from a bitch of a back, and comparing the level of pain.  I suppose I figured, if the pain wasn't as bad as my back, then it's not so bad.

Anyway, now I feel VERY insecure about my safety.

I am not feeling like I can protect myself.

Yesterday, I had to go shopping.

I needed the Housemaid to help me.

Her and Our Unadopted Child were so amazing.

They were my saviours.

Helping me in and out of the car with my crutches, grabbing the items I needed, opening doors for me.

I can't even tell you how grateful I am to have had them help me out.

The Housemaid and Dominican Daddy are now the dog guardians.

Dogs are NOT impressed with this turn of events, and are destroying every single thing they can find in revolt against my inability to be their everything.

They are banished from the bedroom, so that Dominican Daddy can let them out all night.

They are being fed by Housemaid.

Our DR Family is happy because all their help is earning the family a little bit more money.

I have my own assistant.

Oh man, she's more than an assistant.

Seriously?  She's my everything right now.

But the best part is that I have constant companionship while I feel I need it.

Normally?  I'd be cringing at the fact that someone is around all the time.

Not now.

Now I'm grateful.

Only if you've ever been on crutches do you know how hard the simplest task is.

Like bringing a glass of water up a flight of stairs.

Yeah.

No.

I've put it in a bottle and thrown it into a bag I carry non-stop, thanks to a lovely tip a very sweet Facebook friend gave me.

She also tipped me off about the rolly chair.

Yes!  The rolly chair is a great way to get around in the middle of the night.

Especially now that there are no dogs in the room to roll over.

6 sleeps until Papi comes home.

i know that putting myself first is not selfish, but rather self-care

It's a bad day for The Donkey.

The Donkey goes in to see Dr. Bob to get fixed today.

She will look at us with the saddest face when we leave her, "You're abandoning me?!  What did I do?!"

Then when we pick her up, while she's depressed and lying in a cage, the face will say, "Whatever I did, I won't do it again."

I wish they spoke English so I could explain what's going on.  Hell, I'd settle for learning their language, if I could.

Old Ghost Face is in heat, but she's much to old to get fixed, so we'll just hide her from the other horny males in the 'hood who keep impregnating all the bitches.

So many pregnant dogs.  So many puppies killed because of it.

Why can't I be that rich person who could pay for all the animals to get fixed and stop the reproduction problem they have here in the Dominican Republic?

Not to make this into a billboard for promotion of the local program or anything, but if you feel like giving anything this year, here's the AAAS, their tax exempt donations, along with their wish list.

Anyway, back to Old Ghost Face.

When we went to the beach the other day, we left her in the yard for a short amount of time, as we didn't know what she might do.

Bolt?

Find a stud to take care of business?

After the mob calmed down, we let her out to join the masses to see what happened.

She stayed close by, because she loves her pack and her humans.  There was nothing greater than seeing that smile on her face.

First, there was trepidation that looked like she was thinking, "Is this a trick?  Are they trying to tell me to leave?  But I get 2 meals a day now!  WITH Alpo gravy!  I'm not leaving this yard."

Then, she took the brave slide down the sand that is slowly disappearing from our front area, as we need those massive boulders PRONTO before we wash away.

Next came the smile.

The, 'I'm so happy I could shit' smile.

I'll spare you the details on that one.

Never-the-less, it was successful, and as soon as she's out of heat, we'll take her on those treks to the beach, along with the pack who will also be exempt from making more puppies in this country.

Totally un-related, let's talk about how much love I received yesterday, when Our Fave's Mom and his sister came by to invite me to go play in the ocean.

The sweetest thing ever is when a child who isn't born to you, loves and trusts you enough to ask you to her hand while you go both go wading in the water.

Honestly.

It makes me so proud that the innocence of a child understands my heart.

Even if adults don't, a child and their intuition know that I'm here for good and I'm here for love.

Because of this sentiment, and the affection of friends who keep making an effort to remain in my heart, I can safely put aside all the politics, judgement and people who have dumped me because they're now part of the 'cool kids' who are on the 'hate the Hector-Browns' bandwagon.

... again ... my heart needs so much healing from the henpeckers ...

When a child wants to play with me in the ocean, doesn't see colour as a barrier, and asks for nothing but joy?

That trumps all.

Then we came to the pool, I pushed her around on the Princess Floaty Chair and she giggled and smiled while her mom had just a few moments to rest and watch.

She had time to just do 'nothing' but watch us in the ocean, in the pool, because the Little Angel was sleeping and Our Favourite was at school.

Rest, for the mama, for at least 30 minutes.

Probably felt like more to her, considering she goes non-stop because her husband is always working.

I keep offering us to babysit so she can have rest, but she hasn't taken us up on that yet.

However, she did say she was moving to Gaspar Hérnandez without her husband, to be closer to her sister, who is a HUGE help.

That made me sad, but until she actually goes, I'll appreciate the time with my DR Family and play with the little ones in the ocean as much as I can.

That child, and the friends back home who haven't left my side, make me stronger every day.

Truly, love is all that matters.

i know i am important

the oil of oregano dance

Oil of oregano is SO good for a virus.  It'll kick that bugger right outta there.

So, when Our Favourite was complaining that he had a cold, I decided to give him some.

I'm going to make some ginger tea for him today to keep up with the immune boosting and get him healthy, but last night I just didn't have the energy, so oil of oregano it was.

I warned him and Our Fave's Mom.  I made sure they both knew it would taste horrible so they were prepared for his reaction.

I had the eye dropper all poised and said, "Ready?" with a partial giggle, knowing that this would probably be the most horrid tasting medicine he would ever experience.

Buckley's ain't got NOTHIN' on oil of oregano.

Anyway, tongue up, drops in and blammo!  There it was!!  The oil of oregano dance!

Hopping around trying to spit it out.  Arms flailing as he tried to put his shirt up to his mouth to get the excess out.  I think I even saw an evil eye glare at me!

He could try and spit that stuff out all he wanted, but once it's under your tongue, the burn just has to work it's way out.

Our Fave's Mom laughed and laughed.

We know that sometimes, the best things for us are things that hurt, leave a bad taste in our mouths, or have us learning big lessons.

I had another lesson this week.  I was called racist again.

I understand a lot more about why people of colour would hate white people.  I see it in the workers here, when I see how white people treat them.

Even though I know I'm judged, I do my best to maintain a smile with the men in our yard, as I give them water all day long to keep them hydrated while they do good for us.

One of them absolutely despised me.  He just saw me as another white asshole.

One night, he was working late and alone, and the sun was going down.  He hadn't stopped for a dinner break, and we had some delicious pasta in the fridge, and I thought he was probably hungry.  Maybe he'd want it?

My dinner was chocolate, and I don't share that with anyone.

I didn't even think he would accept my offering, and battled with whether or not I should try to feed him, because he probably wouldn't want anything from me considering how much he abhorred me.

However, I meekly went out and offered, and was so pleased he took it.

Ever since I gave him dinner, he has been nice to me.  I suppose he's just like me; the way to his heart is through his stomach.

Now, he says hello in the mornings, and he has been the biggest help with giving me gardening tips.  Every time he sees me doing something wrong, he comes over and shows me the right way.

It's the greatest gift of all to me, a city slicker, who has only kept one plant alive in my life.

That was of course, until my motorcycle accident, and Papi was in charge.  That poor plant didn't last very long, but I'm keeping things alive as I get a lot of tips now.

Anyway, I understand how people of colour would hate white people.  It just hurts that there's absolutely NOTHING I could ever do right, because I was born white and am judged not by my actions, but by the colour of my skin.

An article I read, as I was trying to learn more about how people of colour hate us, was talking about a room full of white people who were there to learn more about racism.

The woman looked out amongst the mostly white crowd and said to herself, "It's still all about you."

Why?  Those people are doing their best to try to change things by learning more, but still, they're bad for being there.

Why is completely OK to be hated and put down because of being white?

I don't intentionally do anything to harm another person, no matter what colour they are, unless of course, you're an asshole to me, then you're fair game.

Yet, I'll never be able to do anything good enough and will always be hated by some because of my colour.

Lesson learned.  Damned if you do, damned if you don't.  Just accept being hated.

Every time someone from the 'community' calls me racist on that toxic social media site I call Fecesbook, they're added to the 'mean girls' list, and are hidden so they can't see anything on my wall.

I'll just be invisible to the haters, and take away their opportunity to attack me to look cool to the other assholes in the 'community' who yes, happen to be white.

I've learned that all that matters is that I know I try my best to help people in ways I feel are good for both of us.

All that matters is Our Favourite and Our Fave's Mom trust us to be part of the DR Family, no matter what colour we are.

I'll keep on doing my best, no matter how much people try to insult me.

i value and honour myself as i am

family.

What a day!

What a hospital.

Oh man.

You're there to heal and hold a fresh little baby that has just come into this world who needs all the help he can get with his fledgling immune system, and the bathrooms don't have toilet paper to wipe your ass, nor do they have soap to clean your hands while you're drip drying.

Seriously.

Then you're going to hold a little bundle of love who just breathed air for the first time.

Of course, I did it anyway, for as long as my bitch of a back would allow.

Which was just long enough to fall in love.

What a sweet little soul.

To Our Fave's Mom, it was nothing, as she's had 2 others before.

She giggled at our silliness with the little bean.

As did everyone else who thought us ridiculous.

The family has taken us in, and I believe I have found the DR Family we have been searching for.

Including the gangster brother who scares the hell out of me now that he knows where we live.

But at least, I won't be alone for those three months Papi was talking about.

He was indeed having a grief breakdown.

You know the one if you've had it.

You're not only grieving, you're experiencing every bad thing that ever happened to you in your life along with the pain of loss.

Well, Papi isn't going back to Canada to stay with G'ma for 3 months.

He was just having 'a moment' of weakness.

I won't be alone for all that time, but I would have done it to make Papi happy.

We do know that G'ma is in the best care she could have.

She is surrounded by other family and friends.

She is taken care of with her Alzheimer's better than we could do.

She is where SHE wants to be, near her church people who mean the world to her.

We have asked her to come with us, but she didn't want to.

So, there in Canada, with the BEST care, she stays.

Best care, with toilet paper, and soap to wash her hands.

Best care, with people who know how to care for her condition.

Good thing she's not here.

She would not have survived the heat first of all.

Second, she would have a fit about all the repairs she would have to live with.

Third, we wouldn't be able to have the dogs to protect us, because they would knock her down.

She wouldn't be able to handle Papi firing off a gun every night, just because he enjoys it.

You know that story?  The boy who cried wolf?

I fear that people will get too used to my dingbat husband firing off a gun and not come to help when they hear the real thing.

Well, at least the gangster brother will know we have it.

Today, we will have a full house, because all the repairs we needed yesterday couldn't be done, because we had to be there to bring the new life into this world.

Not to mention, I also have a visitor.

Another dog lover from down the beach.

Her New York accent is very thick, and I love it!  We're going to share coffee along with some papaya straight from my tree.

I don't know where we're going to sit, as there is no deck to sit on right now, but I have a visitor.

And workers.

So, I best go get that veggie garden watered before all hell breaks loose.

Day begins ..........

NOW!

i let go of all lies i tell myself

Gratitude List Day 4/10
1. I am grateful to be a godparent a 2nd time over.
2. I am grateful to be accepted into a family here in the Dominican Republic.
3. I am grateful to have experienced a brand new life yesterday.
4. I am grateful Papi is feeling so much better.
5. I am grateful I am feeling so much better.
6. I am grateful Papi heard Psycho Kitty tell him that he's happy and doing well.
7. I am grateful for papaya straight from my tree.
8. I am grateful to be making friends.
9. I am grateful for my angels supporting me.
10. I am grateful for friends back home, who help me through the hard times.  You know who you are.

the greatest day of all

Wow what a day.

Indeed, something to write home about.

Let's start with Mr. Majestic.  The new guard dog.  AKA: Cat Killer.

So, as per instruction from my friend, The Super Googler, I've been keeping Cujo on a leash, tied around my waist.

Everything I do, I do it with him.

He's lovely, other than the cat killing thing.

I've had to put him into submission already, but I learned that I've lost a lot of strength since my motorcycle accident.  I couldn't quite wrangle him to the ground, but still, the intention was felt and he understood I am alpha.

So, yesterday, the Housemaid came and we were ready for our deed, pay out and papers in hand.  The moment I saw her, my fearless protector started barking and scared the shit out of her.

Mission accomplished!

She will not be the person to come sneaking on to our property unannounced anymore, and word will get around about our scary guard dog.

I was shocked, amazed, and so damn grateful, you wouldn't believe.

He didn't like her and he protected me.  He hadn't even been here 24 hours and he protected me.

Then it was time to do the nasty deed, and we did it with love and hugs and everyone was happy.  Of course she wanted to work for free like I knew she would, but I told her, "You are my friend, not my employee."

Then something magical happened.  That friendship grew yesterday.

She invited us to her house.  Of course we saw the fresh white paint, but we didn't say anything.  We're swallowing our pride.

Then she invited us to sit in her garden area.

It was beautiful.  Spacious.  Fresh.  Cool.  Kids were in abundance, playing with 'guns' made out of wood someone had specially crafted for them.

I met the Dominican Daddy's cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, mother, and anyone else who was remotely related by way of babies.

Oh, there was also a parade of everyone's chickens, roosters and dogs, and did we meet babies!  All that was missing was a donkey and a goat.

Our guard's baby was placed in my lap without even asking.  He was so damn sweet and looked just like his papa.

Then more ladies brought another baby, children squealed all around us, people came and said hi and I'll tell you, THIS is what I expected in moving here.

THIS was getting to know the village and becoming part of the community.

It was the nicest time I've had here.

I was welcomed, I was grateful for their congeniality, I was made to feel like I wasn't a stranger.

I felt love, and the possibility that we could have our DR Family.

I was invited back anytime, and I will take her up on it.

Probably the most beautiful part of the experience, was when the little critter who comes to our yard unannounced saw me in his house.

His mouth gaped open from the surprise, and I said, "Now I'm in YOUR house, my friend!!"

He ran over to me and gave me the biggest hug, so filled with love and respect, I almost cried.

It was the most amazing feeling ever.  Love from a child who has accepted me whole heartedly.

Prior to this day, I felt that I was only seen to the village as money on legs.  Now that we told the Housemaid that we don't have anymore, we were looked at differently.

We felt we were actually looked at by the Housemaid as a friend, and that this is the start of a new dynamic.

We're still not going to be stupid.  Everyone is an opportunist, but we definitely can have friendship and get to know our neighbours.

I had a thought last night, that with the amount of children who are back in our village, I'm going to start a children's choir!

I'll start small, by just learning some songs and the solfege scale, then I'm going to create a monster!  I'm going to have the children be the voices of instruments and song and make a vocal children's band!

It will keep me happy, keep the kids busy, and allow me to give music to their community.

It was a day to write home about.

i know that i have a choice in the work that i do in this world

Mr. Extortion was back.

The roosters are crowing.

The sun is shining.

I'm moving from this lying down place to the outside to watch the pool get built.

It's my new TV.

Here's yours: episode 2.

Yesterday, Mr. Extortion showed up in our yard again.

At first I was thinking to myself, "What the fuck are YOU doing in MY fucking yard!?!?!" and was about to ask him such.

Then I remembered I can't take the guy on.  He's corrupt and fucking scary.

But that didn't stop me from having Pissy Face.

My Pissy Face wasn't as covert as Papi would have liked, prompting him to say, "You are looking really upset.  Stop it."

To which I replied, "It's my fucking house and my fucking yard.  I can have any fucking face I want on MY fucking property."

The reason I was mostly angry, was Mr. Extortion just showed up unannounced and was hanging out with our house maid, all best buddy, chatty chatty.

Smiles wide.

You know why?

They both had on beautiful new clothes.

Other than his designer jeans and fancy man top, dude had on a brand new pair of gorgeous white Doc Martins.

Hell.  I can't afford that.

Know why?

BECAUSE HE TOOK ALL OUR FUCKING MONEY!!!!

So, there they are, all decked out in brand new duds and I'm sitting in an 2nd hand dress that is destroyed by way of her fucking bleach.

They sure looked nice in their new clothes.

Apparently, he was here just to 'make sure nothing NEW was being done'.

They are not the suffering developing world people I thought they were.

Nor are they are ever using Papi or I for any more cash.

Then she crossed the line.

When it was time to talk to our plumber, who is my biggest hero in the world right now, ...

... damn it's nice to have a warm shower again!! ...

... the house maid decided that she would follow Papi in to eavesdrop on their conversation about how much we're being charged for our water to be fixed.

Fortunately, he told Papi he'd tell us tomorrow, so she didn't get the inside scoop.

But damn.

She's really making herself at home here.

She lived here for 11 months while the house sat empty, so she feels like it is hers.

It's not anymore.

And bringing in strangers who's husbands are in jail, not to mention Mr. Extortion is really not cool.

There will be some changes around here, because now I'm so fucking angry that I have no qualms about telling her what I expect out of an employee.

We will never be giving her any more than the money we give her while she's employed.

Which isn't for much longer.

Her family is not our DR Family any longer.

Let me tell you.

I am so angry, that after all was said and done and there was nobody left in our yard, I ate an entire bag of corn chips in seconds flat.

I hate it when I have an angry eating episode, but even more horrible is the fact that I was so nauseas from eating all the crap!!!

OK.

So, I got that off my chest.

Now I'm going to go outside and watch the concrete dry.

i let go of my anger so i can see clearly.

trust is broken

I couldn't write to you yesterday, because our internet was out in the morning.

Welcome to a developing country!!

So.  What we've now learned is we were overcharged for our wall.

By our house maid.  Who took a cut.

And she is the one who told the authorities to come extort cash from us about our wall, in which she took a cut of also.

This has disheartened me greatly.

Not to mention the fact that I have to rewash every dish she cleans, because they're not up to my cleanliness standards when they still have chunks of food dried on.

I've already had to talk to her about the bleach that ruined the only clothes I brought, all my favourites from Canada, and now I have to talk to her about the dishes.

I'm not paying someone to rinse them off and throw them in the rack.

I can do that, but I won't, because I'm a germaphobe.

Anyway, I now know that I need to be harder and tell her to clean things up to par.

I fucking hate this!  I'm not a 'boss' like that!

Unless, of course, you're on four legs and have an abundance of fur.

However, now I have to be with her.  I can't trust her, and I have to teach her.

Papi goes on to the DR1 Forum and chats with expats there.  They told him we have to train our house maids because they are not very good.

How can she not be?  She has been a maid forever!!!!!

I guess nobody wanted to tell her.

I also noticed that she does the bare minimum and then is 'done'.  She doesn't clean for the 5 hours we hire her for.  She sweeps, throws a mop around, rinses the dishes then does a load of laundry and leaves.

I had to wash the counters off because of the grease that had accumulated over the years that she never properly cleaned.

I'm so frustrated and I don't want to be a 'boss', but we're not paying her for fun people!!!  We're not so rich that we can give money away for free.  We could do without paying someone to be here, but she guilted us in to hiring her when we bought the house!!!

You see, the last people were guilted into hiring her and the people before them were, and so on and so on.

We also learned we have to get her to sign a document stating when she started working, because the other scam is that people will say they've worked for 7 years and sue for severance pay, even if they only worked for a month.

Now that we are learning about how people operate because of the colour of someone's skin, I understand how it becomes 'us' and 'them'.

It's NOT what I wanted.

I wanted to be part of the DR Family.

I wanted to have love from our new neighbours.

I wanted to immerse myself into their 'community'.

I wanted to be accepted for 'me', the loving, giving person.

I don't get to have that.

The Pool Man and his Dominican wife are teaching us all about how people operate their scams, and it has really saddened me.

The Dominican wife told us not to trust her.  That she is the one calling the authorities who extort money from us.

I wanted so bad to believe that she was trust worthy and have faith in her.  I was wrong.

We've been taken.

I didn't want to believe it, until I realized something about the temporary guard we have.

The first day we hired him, she told us he was $1,000 pesos.  The next night when we were going to pay him directly, she told us it's now only $700 pesos.

Why?  Because she took a $300 pesos cut the first night.

She wants us to hire her friends to do 'this' and 'that' all over the place here, even if they don't know how to do it.

No more.

I'm not hiring one more person from her, because I don't need to pay a finder's fee for every job that needs to be done, plus I need the job done by a professional.

Like the Dominican wife says, "They'll never tell you that they can't do a job."

Now, I have to be a 'boss', and I don't like it.

my confidence reigns in any business setting

let the chaos begin

The 2nd puppy has arrived!!

I'd love to take pictures of her, but damnit if Papi hasn't hidden the camera on the bandidos.

Or perhaps, me?  Always when I bring it out, I hear, "No, not right now."

Yes, Papi!  People want to see our chaos and I have more YouTube shows to make!!!

Anyway, she's going to be an ugly little girl, but that's the way we want her.  She's short one eye, has a huge scar on her head and an unattractive underbite.

We have NO idea what she's made of, only that she has black lab in there somewhere.

Man what a cutie though!!!  So damn sweet!

But I'll be lucky if this blog gets written within 4 hours.

You can call me Cinderella, because I'm mopping the floors more than I ever have in my life, and between mopping and running to the john, I'm a little short on time.

She's a good girl, but so little at only 8 weeks that she couldn't get off the bed last night and peed on it.  Which didn't upset me so much, considering we're getting rid of it.

But how grateful am I to have a 2nd one?!?  She won't be coming on this one that's for sure.

The humping has ceased for me since I showed my alpha, but not for Papi.  He just can't bring himself to do it.

Yet, there is no humping of the new puppy, because now SHE is humping the Jake-A-Like.

There is going to be so much puppy safing in the house.  The litter box is her favourite thing right now.

Not to mention, we can't let them run in the yard, because the fence is being built, so there's nothing to keep them in, so there's not much time to get her outside in time for accidents.

Wow, these people mean business!  I've never seen anything like it!

Here's the problem though; no fence = easy access for bandidos.

Our DR Family instructed us to get a guard.  More precisely, a body-guard.  The Dominican Daddy has a cousin that is about 10 feet tall and missing a few teeth.

He came and stayed outside on our hammock last night.  He looked like a scary amazon, but upon meeting him, he was really just a gentle giant.  However, being as massive as he is, nobody was going to mess with him.

Anyway, yesterday when I got up, I thought all the people who were here were actually here to work on the wall.  I realized in the afternoon that there were more spectators than workers.

Casa Paraíso drew a crowd.

When I brought the babies out for an attempt at potty training this morning ...

... excuse me for a moment while i go pry kitty-roca from the puppies mouth and move the litter box to a higher level ...

... the crowd was already starting to form.  It was 7am people!!!

I guess their roosters woke them and the decided to get front row seats.

... excuse me while i pry the puppy pee training pad out of BOTH of their mouths ...

It was still a little dark outside, which made me a bit nervous, so I didn't stick around long enough for them to get the poop out.

No matter.  They both found a nice spot on the floor in the kitchen to take care of business.

Both puppies are having so much fun, and I'm so grateful.

So is Sir Bark-A-Lot.  He's not so cool with the new arrangement.  He's looking a bit like Cujo these days.

The good news is I'm eating, because I decided there's no point trying to stop the nastiness, and starving wasn't working.  So now I have energy to run to the can.

More good new is I found my Prozac.  No need to worry about Hurricane Andréa showing up anymore.

The best good news is our stove is fixed!!!  We now have 4 burners, as opposed to one that we had to light with a match.  They all work with the flick of a switch.

Tonight I'm going to make a meal for Papi and I.

Probably only pasta with meat sauce again, considering we haven't found much more in terms of ingredients to cook with.  We'll have to go into the big city to find more staples.

Besides, we don't really have time to investigate food, because there's always so much more to do.

Like fix a flat on a tire.  That was nice for Papi to have to deal with yesterday.

Now I know why there's a tire store on every corner instead of Starbuck's.

all the things i want and need come to me

Bribery is Rule

For anybody who missed my spamming of our YouTube show, here it is!  You may have to watch on YouTube for it to make it all the way through:

So, I touched lightly on the bribery that goes on here.

About how we had to pay off the authorities in order to have our secure concrete wall.

We knew it to be truth that people are corrupt here, so we just assumed it was true that the house maid told us she'd help us pay the authorities.

We know that when a cop pulls you over he may be only doing so to extort money from you.

We know that we can bribe him not to ticket or fine us with a small 'donation'.

We know that our spot in the queue at the hospital can be shortened by way of money.

It was when the pool guy came by, who is a man from America who has lived here for 20 years, that we'd been told we were taken.

He told us, "I've been here long enough to know how things work."

However, we believe that he may be wrong.

Mama brought the documentation that we were allowed to put up the horseshoe around the house, but not the wall in front of the house, because they don't want the scenery ruined.

She told us that in a few months, we'll sneak up the wall in front and the authorities won't know, because they will have come to see only the 'horseshoe' up.

When we get the pool in we'll have a the fence up that will block the view of the ocean, but we'll be having sliding doors so that we can still look out.  So the pool has to go in first anyway.  Kinda works out to our advantage.

They started the wall this morning at 8am.  Hard workers.

Anyway, we can't really know who is telling the truth without being mind readers, so at this point, we're just going to keep our eyes open and be wary on both ends.

What we do know, is that our DR Family is really looking out for us.

I mean, for the lady to come running down the road to be sure we had a 'bueno persona' in our house on her day off, and to come by to check on us for small reasons that could wait, we realize she's protective of us.

The other day, when they were upstairs helping us, Papi had dropped a coin.  Some kinda peso.

Papi nor I knew, but the Dominican Daddy and son both saw it.

We watched the Dominican Daddy point to his little love of his who saw it, look at him and say in Spanish, "Nope.  Pick it up and give it to Hector."

To me, a dishonest person wouldn't do that.

To me, the way they help us get what we need and do it without asking for anything says a lot.

We've given them all the hand-me-downs that we get rid of day by day and they're so excited!

Mama asked us, "What will you do with the old fence?"

We told her, "Garbage."

She asked if she could have it.  When I asked her if it was to put around her house, she laughed, "No, I will sell it and use the money to fix MY house."

Would a dishonest person say that?

Would they?

I still want to believe that they're inherently honest and that we didn't get scammed.

I still want to believe they are our DR Family.

We will definitely be wary, and watch if things go missing, but that's no way to set up a dynamic if we're not coming at this situation with love.

I spoke to her gently about not using bleach on my clothes, pointing out the polka-dots on everything and asked her not to use bleach anymore.

So, to get them really clean she used SO much soap that my clothes seem like they will never feel dry.  They felt greasy!

No matter.

We hung them out to dry and it's rained so much that they didn't get dry for a few days, instead they were WELL rinsed.

On a different topic, here's something I don't understand.

I've not eaten since Friday, for fear of Montezuma's Revenge wreaking it's havoc on me, and I'm starving.

I'm lethargic, weak, dizzy and shaky.

What I can't figure out is, how the hell was I ever anorexic?  I'm dying over here!!!!

I think I can safely say, that I will never, ever harm my body with starvation for the sake of feeling 'skinny' again, no matter how hard that Anorexia Monster tries to sway me.

I can't take 3 days!  Never mind the point to get to skin and bones.

Good thing I've got some padding for my body to feed off of.

i respect my body

Our DR Family

The first day we arrived here, the housekeeper was so damn sweet.

She had figured out how to say, "Welcome to your new house, Hector and Andréa."

Here, in the Dominican, people can't say Papi's name very well, so when they look at a document with our last name on there, they immediately jump to thinking his name is the first part of our last name, 'Hector-Brown', and call him 'Hector'.

So, our non-English speaking housekeeper made a cute little sign that had our welcome on it.  You'll be able to see it in Episode 2 of our YouTube reality show!

Right now, as I write this, I'm uploading Episode 1.  I'll tag it on here when it's actually finished uploading.

Anyway, on top of making us a sign, she also had a meal of rice and fried eggs ready for us.

Lotsa salt!!  Holy!!  But we were so damn hungry and tired, we ate it with zeal!

They are so incredibly sweet.

When the internet person came to hook us up, she came running down the road to make sure he was a 'bueno persona' because she's so protective of us.

This wasn't even her working day!

She just wanted to make sure she knew the person who was in our house, because she wants us to be safe.

She is definitely our DR Family.  She comes by to help us without pay.  Just to 'help' us.

One of her 4 boys, the smallest one, will bring me fruit fresh off the trees and the smile on his face as he gives me a mango is incredible.

He is so proud to be able to give me something and it shows.

He has nothing, but to make me happy with a mango made his (and my) day.

We really haven't had a chance to rest, until now because I'm so sick I can't do anything.

We run around to get the puppy better, get the cat his dental surgery, get the internet, get our cable, cleaning supplies, food etc.

Oh, update on the stove.  We now have one burner!  So I made us a nice pasta meal last night with meat sauce.

Not that I got any nutrition out of it.  It just went through me, but it felt good to put something other than corn chips in my yack.  I'm sure you don't want to hear about how I'm living on the toilet.  I've resolved to not eat anymore, so that I can have a rest from being sick.

Anwyay, there are so many 'priorities', it's hard to figure out what is first!!

~ Stove fixed.
~ New bed so I'm not in agony.
~ New doors that bandidos can't just push open because the hinges are rotted from the sea.
~ Bars on the windows so that we can sleep with fresh air.
~ Taps that work, water pressure AND hot fucking water for a shower people!!
~ Lights.  Oh, we have about 3 that work.
~ Dressers so we can finally put away our clothes.

There's more.  Oh, so much more.

However the 'more' is really just stuff that would make our lives 'nice'.  Like a lounging chair to sit in the sun.

I tried putting my towel out on the grass just to lie in it, but soon found I had laid right next to one of 100 ant chambers that are in our yard.

That 'relaxing' moment was short lived as I ran screaming patting myself off.

Then we got a hammock.

I lie elevated, however, I can't type on my computer while I'm out there, because we don't have a wall up yet.  The bandidos will see our computers and rob us, so we hide indoors.

Oh our wall?  In order to have a wall, we have to pay off the commissioner!  They say, "No!  You may not put up a wall and destroy our scenery for our native people!

That's sweet and all, but they will let us do it for a 'fee' of $2,500.

Yup.

Bribery works here like gang busters.

Anyway, yes, we are off to a rough start, but my Eternal Friend, who just moved back from a 3rd world country giggled in an email, asked me if I really believed it would be easy.

I suppose I knew it would be work.  Just not this hard.

I'm trying very hard to stay optimistic and know what I've always known.  Things will always get better.  Always.  They always do.

giving up is easy.  i will delay the urge, just for today

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

gun therapy. oh yes.

While we were talking to the housekeeper at Casa Paraíso, telling her with all our sadness that we can't hire her full time when we move there, she told us in her broken English, "Get a pistol."

This is not because we won't hire her full time.  We told her she will be part of our family and that we'll take care of them best we can.  We already have plans in place to make them our DR Family.

She told us that the bandidos would come to rob us if they're not there full time, because we're gringos.

At first it was a little alarming, until I realized I finally get to have a gun and get to go back to the shooting range for practise.

Of course, people are a little worried about us, but I'm trying to reassure everyone we're going to be just fine.  

We're cool with it.  We love guns and I've always wished I had one to protect myself from predators.

I know that if I had one when I was younger, I wouldn't be living with P.T.S.D for the rest of my life.

I guess I will have to work on my anger management before we have an Uzi.

Also, there will be no sugar in my system to make sure there are no ocean side Hurricane Andréa sightings.

None-the-less, I promise you, this little femme will not hesitate to protect my home and family.

I also know, once we get the reputation for not taking any bullshit, the opportunists will leave us alone.

Not to mention, once we become a part of the community and show that we're there to help, not take, they will not want to diss us.

They don't diss family like people do here in our fair city of privileged white boys who don't give a shit about elders or children.

They respect those who respect family, and these lovely caretakers will be our family.

Dammit, I can't tell you how excited I am to start my target practise on Saturday.

I also have a couple of good friends who I've asked for help to get the best out of my practise.  One is my drummer from HECTOR who is the baby daddy of My Godson, The Turkey.

The other is the Godfather of The Turkey.  He's cleared to carry guns, and regularly goes to the shooting range to keep up his chops.

I'm sure they'll both want to get me the best I can be.

Envision this: I'm lying in my hammock, sipping on coconut water I got from our coconut palm in our yard.  The salty ocean breeze is drying my hair from the morning's ocean pain relief for my bitch of a back.  I may or may not have a missing tooth with a stalk of hay hanging from my mouth, instead of a cigarette, because cigarettes are gross.

Someone comes on the the property thinking that this li'l gabacha is an easy target to get past to take her items.

Wrong mother fucker.

See this Saturday-night Special?  I know how to use it.

He takes a step closer and the dirt beside him erupts from a bullet.  That is a warning, and one warning is all he gets.

I'll be sure to let him know the next one goes into his leg, prohibiting him from taking any steps closer.

That will take care of our reputation and will be the only time someone bothers to try and take advantage of us.

So, this weekend, I start target practise.

Perhaps, I should find myself some anger management to go along with it.

That, and there will be no sugar in my system to make sure my chemical imbalance is in check.

Good thing Papi and I don't drink.  There could be some troubles in Casa Paraíso if that were the case.

Lord knows that sliver of my Irish heritage comes out when I drink, and I become a leprechaun.

Just add alcohol and a gun.

i have deep faith and belief in myself