Papi and His House.

I'm not sure if I told you the Papi and his house story.

Well, my love has never moved.

Ok.  Once.  For a girlfriend.  However, he didn't really move, he just kinda moved in and left everything he owned at this here crib.

Really, that's more like a 6 month sleep over.

Anyway, mi esposo was born in this castle, and every other relationship he's had has moved in here with him, the G'ma & G'pa and the Fuzzy Family.

You see, at the ripe age of the double digit 10, my love's mother passed away from cancer.

It was at that point that G'ma and G'pa took care of the orphan, as Papi's father was not in the picture.

That's a long story that one.  No time to go there.  Having said that, my love is now 'sorta' in contact with his bio-father.

Never-the-less, Papi was an orphan at the age of 10.

That meant he wasn't moving out of this dwelling.  He was now staying put until it was time for him to leave the nest.

Yeah.  He flew for 6 months, then he was back.

It was shortly after that, that his G'pa got sick and Papi was a helper to take care of him.

Once G'pa passed away, he was here to help with G'ma, as G'ma didn't have a license anymore and needed the support.

Here he stayed. 

Then I came.

I said, "Ok.  Listen.  I vowed I would never live in a basement again, so I'm giving G'ma a few years of us taking care of her, then I have to move out of the black hole."

4 years and one Dungeon Syndrome later, here we are.

So, Papi has never moved.

It's pretty funny and a little hard for me to believe.  I've moved more times than I can even count anymore.

I could count them before the motorcycle accident, but now, well, it's sorta a blur of being a transient and considering it 'normal'.

Prior to this crash pad, the longest stability I ever had was from kindergarten to grade 5.

I'm a professional mover.

Nothing really stresses me out about moving, and I feel like this is my department.

My poor Papi has no idea what to do first.

Not to mention, he doesn't get the concept of a small space, because he's lived in quite the amazingly generous abode for his whole life.

He really believes that our full length leather couch is going to fit into Our Closet (aka temporary home #3) of 454 sq. ft.

He also believes that both his gargantuan televisions are going to fit.

Yeah, maybe in the tub!

One thing he hopped to quickly was getting our TV and internet set up in the new address PRONTO!!!!!!

He knew to do that.

But seriously.  He's never moved.

Have you ever heard of anything such as this?

Is it just me who thinks it's the craziest story I've ever heard?  Is it just because I moved SO MUCH that MY reality is all relative and I think it's nuts?

Maybe my life is the one that's a bit like a feral gypsy, but I can't help but think it's so bizarre that this is Papi's first move.

Yesterday, I just taught him about a change of address.

He thought it was a great idea, until he found out how much it costs.

Oh, it's a brave new world my love!

i have inner resources

needles in my ass ... again.

I'm usually alone when I'm writing my blog.

Today I have company.

The humming Uncle.

Normally, he's the new recipient of Dungeon Syndrome, but today he's upstairs taking advantage of the bright space to do his work in.

Problem is, this house is so old, there's only a few plugs to choose from, so we're sharing this here table.

Well, he talks while I'm trying to think, and when he's not talking, he's humming, or muttering to himself about what he's going to do next.

Not good for my brain first thing in the morning.

My brain hasn't fully woken up until I've had my coffee and my blog is written.

So, here I sit, trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to write about, but I keep getting distracted.

Oh, the fucking joys of brain injury.

And company.

This weekend, Papi and I get to have our first weekend alone in 3 weeks.

We had a small attempt at 'alone time' when The Uncle was away for 24 hours, but there was so much to do, and there was so much gramma drama, that we didn't really get to appreciate it.

Anyway, what I wanted to write about has finally come to mind, now that I'm halfway through my coffee.

Needles in my ass.

Did you know that Botox became a household name because of migraines?

Let me explain.

They first used it for migraines, and when they noticed that people's wrinkles went away, they marketed it for cosmetic surgery.

Well, this is what was shot into my ass yesterday.

The first one was really painful, but the second and third seemed like they were just an annoyance.

However, for the rest of the day, it seriously felt like someone had taken a tenderizer to my ass.

That, or a baseball bat.

Today, after my usual sitting to do my blog, I had to do the coffee tinkle.

You know the one?

That black gold makes you run to the washroom.

Well, upon standing from this here table, I anticipated the usual horrible pain I get, but it didn't happen!

I braced myself to stand and cringe, only I didn't!

Then I walked and it feel great!

I've been told that sometimes, this feeling only lasts a few days, but what the hell!  A few days without pain killers would make me so fucking happy.

I don't enjoy the feeling of stupidity and sloth, so perhaps, today is a non-pain killer day?!?!?!

Oh for fuck's sakes.

Just as I wrote that, I felt the pain begin to shoot down my leg, and up my back again.

What-Fucking-Ever.

It was a good moment.

Don't mind me while I go mope.

 i deserve to be in perfect health

dream a little dream with me ...

Oh dear.

We decided to move the cats up to our new floor of the house.

It was a bit of a gong show and Papi was the gong.

Up we went, while protecting our faces from the possibility of becoming The Golden's one eyed kin.

We brought them to the new pee box space.

Immediately, The Bastard Prince was placed in the box and proceeded to tinkle.  It was, in our minds, excellent that he went right away.  We thought we were at a good start.

The Mrs. however, when placed at the top of the stairs, hissed at 'nothing'.

Or perhaps Papi's mother's ghost, or even the ghost of G'pa, but none-the-less, there was nothing we could see worth a kitty spit.

When we were back into the kitchen, hoping everything went well, I noticed it.

Piss.  Allllllllll down Papi's pants.

... no, it wasn't papi ...

The Bastard Prince was so scared of coming up into Psycho Kitty's space that he pissed himself.  I knew he was afraid of him, but I didn't realize just how badly.

We all meet our match in life, and well, it looks like The Bastard Prince is no longer the king of his castle.

In the past, he would even scare the dogs in the neighbourhood wherever he lived.  Not anymore.  It was so sad and pathetic.

Then there was The Mrs.

She made herself at home on Psycho Kitty's tree, and when the loony cat came to say, "Hey!  That's mine!" The Mrs. told him, "Not anymore, bitch!"

It blew me away.  The one I thought was tough is the chicken and vice versa.

Meanwhile, Papi and I have switched spots on the bed now that it's in a different room.

Well, when I heard my alarm go off, I did my usual 'slap around the bedside table to find the alarm', only I almost clocked Papi in the head.

Fortunately, I had removed my eye patch just enough and just in time to see my possible mistake.  It truly would have been a rude awakening for my love.

One thing I can say is, moving up to the bright sunny floor has definitely helped our moods.

The Dungeon Syndrome is leaving me for sure.  Papi actually relaxed last night.

We spent some quality time writing out our 'dream home' list in the Dominican, and Papi had the audacity to laugh at my wishes!

~ land with fruit trees

~ space for goats, chickens, pigs and my donkey

~ walking distance to the beach

~ walking distance to stores

~ gas stove

~ granite counter tops

~ privacy from neighbours

~ a boat moor

Hey!  What's the point of making a 'wish list' if you can't dream big?

That's the point of a 'wish list'.  It's not an expectation!  It's hopes that maybe, just perhaps, those prices will keep coming down and we'll find the home we've always wanted.

One of the houses we looked at when we were there is down by $70,000!!!!!!  It's moved into our price range!

Who knows folks, we just may get what we deserve.

Stranger things have happened.  Remember the time capsule dream list I made in 1999?  I did indeed get a few things on that list.

I wonder what we'll get in paradise?

all the things i want and need come to me

A New Space.

So there I was, absolutely ecstatic about being able to do my blob/blab this morning in sunlight and my fucking plans were bamboozled.

You know how I have to have a routine in the morning to make my breakfast?  I'm a wreck in the morning.  My poor injured brain can't function, unless I have my routine.

Well, last night we moved upstairs from the dungeon, and I thought I'd moved everything I needed for making my breakfast.

Nope.  All I moved up was my coffee bodum and beans.

Good god.  If you've ever seen a comedy routine like the one this morning, you'd never forget it.

Up and down the stairs, trying to figure out what I need next, coffee beans hadn't been ground until after the water was boiled, apple sauce cups flying all over the place as I tried to bring them up the stairs while that kettle screamed at me to do something about it, and no spices for my eggs.

Not to mention, my first bite of eggs fell off my fork and on to the floor, and were now an awesome treat for Sir Bark-A-Lot.  After inhaling it in one gulp, he looked at me as if to say, "Please sir, could I have some more?"

I don't know about you, but my breakfast has to go well for me to get a good start in the morning.

Then came the worst decision I could make on this day.   I thought I'd check the mail.  Bad idea.

There was my little envelope saying all my benefits that I sent in for my Brace Face were not eligible.  NOT a nice thing to read before I've had my coffee.

The woman on the phone was absolutely wonderful, mostly because I told her my animosity was not directed toward her, but toward that horrid fucking company she works for.

She didn't disagree.  She only giggled.

I liked her giggle.  It calmed me down.

I asked her if she ever received a happy person on the other end, because every time I call I'm psychotic and want to fly through the telephone wire and strangle someone.

She giggled and replied, "Well, we get a mixture of satisfied customers and some not so happy."

I asked, "You mean bitchy people like me?"  Again, she only giggled.

She soothingly explained to me what nobody else has ever explained in my 4.5 years of dealing with them.  She broke down what every little number meant and how it works.

I cooled off and told her I hope the rest of her day was filled with the satisfied customers she spoke of.  She gave me one last giggle, "Thank you.  I hope your day gets better."

This blob/blab today was supposed to be about the fact that I'm up here writing in beautiful daylight upstairs, and not in the dungeon.

The gargantuan, acorn filled trees are my amazing picture as I write to you.  Every little wisp of wind helps the leaves wave at me to greet me to my new view for writing.

The sunshine coming through the window absolutely makes my heart feel so much more warmth and happiness.

That's what this was supposed to be about.

Oh.  And the cats.  They are not liking the fact that we're upstairs with Psycho Kitty.  I tried to get them to come up and eat, but they prefer living with Dungeon Syndrome.

At least while they're down there, they know their hiding places and are content that they can gang up on Psycho Kitty and run him outta town!

I'll continue to attempt to feed them up here, but The Mrs. won't eat.  She just paces the room meowing showing the whites of her eyes.

She's also not impressed that everything is gone from her space.

All alone sits her cat tree, amongst the vacant space of a room that holds only my piano and a few items that we won't be getting rid of until the house sells.

It occurred to me that the anxiety Papi and I are feeling is also being felt by the Fuzzy Family.  I can use them as my gauge as to why I'm feeling so unsettled.

This is an exciting venture, but there is also a little bit of difficulty when life is in chaos.

The critters are my mirror.  Another reason I love them so much.

Ah for fucks sakes.  I just spilled my entire water glass.

joy overflows in my life

sadness is leaving us

Yesterday was the day and we told her the night before.

I can't tell you how hard it was to see her have to go through the acceptance that she has to go live somewhere else.

It's her home, where she wanted to die.

No longer.

Now she's moved to a much safer place for her little old lady legs to walk around.  Everything is accessible.

Except her house.

We have Papi's uncle here to help, and they've gone through a lot of G'ma's stuff.

Some of the memories of pasts are damn sweet!  We found Papi's kindergarten report card G'ma kept.  It was so fun to read Papi was a shy one in the beginning, but soon opened up to the rest of the class.

So hard to believe!

There is so much stress in this house, and we're all trying so hard to hold it together.

Lord knows my bitch of a back is not complying.

Between losing one of my besties, gramma drama, and getting all of our belongings out of the house, my back has forced me to take the worst of the worst drugs.

Morphine fucking sucks.  Let me tell you.

The craziest part is, G'ma is doing better with all of this than we are.  All three of us are one bundle of mess.

Tears.  Stress.  Sadness.  You name it, it's under this roof.

All I can look forward to is moving upstairs into the light and get my brain out of the Dungeon Syndrome.  We've been living in this dark basement for too long.

Papi's used to it.  He's been here since birth.

Me?  I never enjoy the darkness.  It brings too much crud to the surface.

Soon, we get to enjoy bright open windows of sunshine.  That is of course, if this damn city would stop raining.

Our home in this vault is pure chaos.  Our belongings are all leaving and we have nowhere to put our stuff that was in it.

Hence, it's hanging off the ottoman, my piano bench, our kitchen island and surrounding floors.

Mess.  Kinda like our minds.

One thing I can look forward to, is the moment the Uncle has left the building, we're moving on up, into the light.

Anyway, back to the G'ma.  She was amazing at taking the whole experience in stride.

When we went back to the home with a 2nd load, I couldn't find her.  She wasn't in her room, and she wasn't in visiting her sister.

I inquired of the nurse, "Would you have any idea where G'ma went?  She's already M.I.A.!"

She giggled, "She's probably up at the 106 year old's birthday party on the 2nd floor."

Off I went in search of the old fart, and sure enough, there she was, eating cake, drinking tea, and already organizing an evening game of crib with 'Dorothy', who said to G'ma, "You're the answers to my prayers!  I have the table, the board, the cards and the money!!"

G'ma is going to be just fine and will probably be running the place within a week.

Of course, it's going to be hard for her at times, but the fact that she's already mixing in with people had my heart filled with so much joy for her!

No longer will she have tears in her eyes from loneliness.

Hell!  They even bring a cart around a couple times a day with cookies and tea, just in case the old folks need a little sugary love.

Love.

Plenty of it there in her new home, and she's a two minute drive for us.

I'm so happy she's doing so well.  It takes one of the stresses out of the equation.

You hear that, bitchy back?  Now calm the fuck down and behave!!!

i am willing to let go of the past, so that i can create health now

zoom! there she goes!

Pain med hangover.

Fucking ouch.

I need pain meds to get rid of the fucking hangover from the pain meds.

Goddammit I hate pills.

I can't take the medicinal marijuana at night because they make me a bit, shall we say, 'creative', and my mind just won't slow down enough to catch some sleep.

But between the jaw pain and the back pain last night I needed to do something to help me sleep through the ouch.

So, today I suffer for sleeping last night.

However, I'm up and getting ready to head out the door.

I get to see two very sweet people today, one of them being My Gratitude Buddy.

So, I have to go get ready and look as pretty as this day will be.

I also gotta get out of this basement before the Dungeon Syndrome kicks in again.

Enjoy your Saturday.  I know I will.

all my relationships are loving and harmonious

My Old Lady Cart

It occurred to me yesterday that referring to my love as my spouse, and 'he', has now become effortless with only a slip up here and there.

I'm not cringing every time I have to say it, and I don't have the urge to want to tell the person I'm speaking to, "But I started out married to a 'she'!!" every single time.

Yeah, I did.

But now I have a 'he'.

A gorgeous, big-hearted, loving, generous, animal loving 'he', who describes 'fun' as the ability to taunt me by asking me, "Here!  Touch it!" as he pulls at the little hairs on his chest.

I am so glad I have this opportunity to get used to it all before we get to the Dominican Republic.   I don't need my love getting tranny-bashed when we get to paradise by my slip of a tongue.

It wouldn't be paradise anymore.

Speaking of paradise, I started my trek with counseling.  It was a teary hour, but it will get better.

I also want my paradise to include a P.T.S.D. free life from past traumas.

I want my life to be free of anything that would hinder our relationship.  I don't really have the energy to drag all that luggage to the Dominican.

I gotta get rid of it.

It's all a part of The Great DR Purge.

Oh ya!

Today was my first day riding the 'short bus'.  It was so nice to have a stress free ride to get out of my isolation and the Dungeon Syndrome.

AND!!

I went to the surgeon for my 3 week checkup and the splint and elastics are now gone!

Not that it makes any difference to the amount of food that trails down my chin in an effort to stain my favourite bra.

Oh, it's so nice when it's a sticky sweet substance.

That's my fave.

Anyway.

I don't have to wear the mouth crap and I look a little more normal now.

With the exception of the chipmunk cheeks.  They're still a bit round.

I do feel less stressed about time.  I have nothing but time until my next appointment.

I had enough time to go buy myself a handy dandy cart.

Yup.

My new fancy dancy old lady cart.

I have an old lady shopping cart to drag around with me so that I am able to bring my water, snacks and this here computer.

It's not so bad.  It actually feels really good to not be wasting gas in our monster of an SUV.

No, I don't like them, but we needed it and now we're stuck with it.

Or, I should reiterate, Papi is stuck with it.

My ride is much bigger than his.

My mantra today comes from my MC Guru:

 even through the thickest rain and darkest clouds, i can still see the light

Short Bus!!!

Well.

It's official.

I am a rider of the 'short bus' once more.

I don't actually mind.  I'm terrified on the road.  You would be too.  People keep trying to kill me!

... operative word; 'try' mother fuckers ...

Of course I have my personal chauffeur, Papi, but he's usually so busy sleeping off the Graveyard Coma that I don't get to utilize his services.

The one thing I'm happy about, is when I'm on the little bus, I feel safe.

It's a few tons of steel that has bars everywhere to hold on to.

Not to mention, my co-workers are so wonderful.

Well, I guess they're not really my co-workers if I can't do the job anymore, eh?

None-the-less, to me, they will always be my co-workers.  It was the best day job I ever had.

We didn't get to see too much of each other, until my motorcycle accident, then they saw me every day and it was wonderful!

So, I suppose now I get to see my co-workers a little more and that's just lovely.

Except for the ones that don't like me that much.

I'm a bit akin to a puppy jumping around saying, "Let's play!!" while the more mature dog just looks at it from the corner of her eye saying, "Bitch, I'm not in the mood."

I have a lot of energy to spare when I'm in top form.

I'm quite far from my original form, but at least they're not trying to flog a dead horse anymore, by doing their best to get me back to original shape to do the 'short bus' tour.

Now, I'm just rehabbing to get me to where I can be for my current state of my body.

I have arrived at my destination.

This is as good as it gets.

And I'll tell you, I'm grateful.

Compared to where I was 3 years ago, I'm walking, remembering more and you can't shut me up.

So, yeah.

I'm grateful for where I am.

I'm grateful for actually having the option of taking the 'short bus'.

It will get me out of my isolated area I live in, and into the thick of the city to see my friends.

There is nothing to complain about there.

It's a win win all round.

Someone else can drive and I get be panic attack free, I get to get out of this house and be flee the Dungeon Syndrome, I get to see my co-workers, I get to see my friends and neither Papi nor I have to worry when I get behind the wheel.

Then!

When I'm having a good back day and can walk to the bus stop closest to me, I could actually do a spur of the moment plan!

Life is good.

It's really really good.

Nothing can actually take away our happiness but ourselves.

We are also responsible for creating our happiness in the first place.

If I can do it, so can you.

Trust me.

i am able to take risks and try new things without fear

Papi get down from there!

It was tense.

It was really hard to talk Papi off the ceiling once he got up there.

We decided we weren't going to go away until the time came to look for property in the Dominican Republic.

Then it came; The invitation to one of my best friends' wedding in Mexico.

Well, of course we had to go.  He was my best man at my wedding and I love the bride-to-be to pieces.  She is one of the strongest people I have ever encountered in my life.

Then of course, there's my Godson; The Turkey, The Porkchop and the rest of the clan in that positive happy home.

Hell yes!  We're going.

However, this sparked my love to think of more opportunities for us to get a break from G'ma and the Dungeon Syndrome.

My love's aunt and uncle are coming to stay in May, and knowing that we could get out of this place and have a break from the G'ma really sounded like a good idea.

Until this.  "Well, if we're going to that wedding then we can go to the wedding for my half sister!" 

We really can't afford this one though.  It's in the Mayan Riviera.  That would cost way too much, but at first, my love announced, "We're going to both!" then skipped up and down the hall.

I'm not exaggerating.

"This is my happy dance!!" he crooned as he side step skipped up and down our tiny corridor.

The animals didn't quite know what to make of it.

Hell!  I didn't know what to make of it.

All I saw was our pending debt flashing before my eyes.  It a good cardio workout for my love, who has been stagnant since his hysterectomy 5 months ago.

It was so hard to convince my love that we have time to save for the one in October, but we can't possibly do that for the one in May.

His skipping stopped, and he looked like I'd just stolen his ice-cream cone.

"Honey, I've been through bankruptcy once, and I don't want to do it again," I pleaded.

I got myself out of that hole and learned about 'want' vs. 'need' and learned that cash for everything is the only way to stay out of debt.  If you can't afford to pay for it without credit, then you simply can't afford it.

However, I got sucked into a lot of retail therapy over the past few years.  You would too after all the hell we've been through since the accident in 2008, not to mention the hell I've been through personally since 2007.

We got sucked into, "We could die tomorrow!" thinking that allowed us to go into debt to get to our places of warmth every year.

But things are different now.  We have a plan to spend every day in paradise.  We don't need to bring along a looming debt to hinder our dream.

So, I did it.

I convinced my love that only one wedding will suffice.  The one we can afford to save and pay cash for.

But I must admit, knowing that there will be someone here to watch the G'ma in May does make me want to get the hell outta Dodge.

Maybe we can enjoy a Stay-cation perhaps?  It will give us time to get things ready for our massive Garage Sale Gala!

Get rid of crap we can't sell, and get a few bucks for the rest.

Anyway, I managed to keep us out of a further debt and I'm shocked I could do it.

Somehow, I edged one finger at a time out of the Gyprock above me.  His fingers were pretty much holding on for dear life.

I talked him down, but it wasn't without a lot of work.

Phew.  That was too close.

i am deserving of all the good things in my life

munch.

I've had some good advice here.  One of my Blogger Friends told me that I need to move around to get the anaesthesia  out of my system.

I started with that yesterday.

I was also reminded by My ever so brilliant Gratitude Buddy, that the depression is probably also partly due to being stuck in the basement.

Dungeon Syndrome.

I got out of the house, had hugs from My Gratitude Buddy, saw all the wonderful people on the Queer Arts Festival board, and guess what!?!

I ate!

We went out for sushi, and I had miso soup.  Then I decided I would take all the shrapnel out of my mouth and see how wide I can open, and I ordered edimame.

I pulled those little teeny balls of yum out of their shell and stuck them through my now one finger tip width of a space.

Then!

I ate tamago!

Not with the rice.  I just had the egg part and broke it into little pieces which fit through as well.

So happy!!

So, now that I'm able to smile without pain, eat soft food and be out of the house, I'm too busy doing all of the above to really have a good conversation with 'you', my imaginary friend.

But don't think I'm not thinking of you.

I have plenty to bitch about.

I'll be back tomorrow.

Today I'm going on my first bus ride as a non-driver.

... sigh ...

But I know that it will be a good day.  I get to volunteer for Queer Arts Festival.

I'm packing my soft food and all the goodies I need to clean this mess of a mouth.

Back to my life.

i am strong and healthy