Use your imagination.

So it's a strange phenomenon this world we live in.

We sold the house, and I sorta found out through Facebook.

Not kidding you.

Here I am in Seattle and Papi tried to call me about it.  Problem was, it was when I was trying to tell my bitch of a back to shut the fuck up in the hot tub.

Now, Papi is someone who lives his life publicly, ... 

... i wouldn't know anything about that know, would i? ...

... and he couldn't reach me, so he started talking about it on Facebook and I caught up to the news that way. 

He's a fast mover that Papi.

Today I went on, while thinking Papi was sleeping off the Graveyard Coma all day, but find out other-wise.

I saw that Papi had maliciously teased me, by posting TRANNY CHASER on my wall.

That could be confused with hate and bullying!

The horror!

... removes tongue from cheek ...

He obviously read my blog.  Now I knew he did that as well.

The next thing I found out about was that mi esposo guapo is out there drumming up options for me for places to live. 

He's put it right up there on Facebook.

Looking for a home for me.

It really didn't hit me until this morning, we're moving out soon.

We're actually going to need a home as of September 20th.

Imagine this scene would you?

This is what our Xterra looks like.

So, now imagine the back window has Papi's company, "Raining Cats and Dogs" in white letters.

Next, imagine the back with an array of stickers.  One that reads, "Motorcycles are everywhere.  Open your fucking eyes!"

That one gets us phone calls about our conduct of driving on the road with a company name and profanity.

We just tell them to fuck off.

Now, imagine this little vehicle pulling a U-Haul cubicle.

At this point, the inside will be filled with the following:

Papi at the wheel.
A large kennel in the back for two cats.
A smaller kennel on the back seat with another cat in it.
A one-eyed Golden Retriever in the passenger side of the back seat, hanging out the window panting.
Me in the passenger seat popping Rescue Remedy pastilles.
A chihuahua on Papi's lap.

Are you seeing it?

This is our reality to get to Nova Scotia.

All that's really missing is us with a chicken hanging out the window.

Well, now I have time to rest until the next Gender Odyssey function we're going to; dinner.

i am courageous

no, no, no, no, NO!!!!

This stress is too much sometimes.

We had our first open house yesterday.  What came next may sound really good, but at the same time, it's problematic.

We didn't really expect the response, but 5 people are interested, which means we'll be homeless soon.

That's where the trouble comes in.

We have nowhere to go with our 5 animals yet.

If you're not from Canada, sometimes, you may think we live in igloos.

Well, we might be living in an igloo.

Ok.  Not quite an igloo, but we do have a place to go to that is free: Bum-fuck-nowhere with The Uncle.

Nova Scotia.

compliments of wikipedia

See that little red island off the coast of Canada?  Colder than cold.

This is where people go to retire, not start a new life, because there's nothing there.

This is where my piano will be living.

So, we could move to my personal version of hell, or waste all our money sticking around a city that is way too expensive.

It won't take long to get super broke, super fast, in this way beyond our means city of Vancouver.

I'm quite a bit less than impressed.

While Papi was driving around with 5 animals in the car yesterday, listening to either panicked panting from dogs, yowling death screams from cats or hyperventilating from me, ...

... thank you ptsd ...

... neither of us knew that we'd come home to this news.

It's too soon!  We're going to be homeless!  With 5 animals!

Fuck.  This is a bit warped and wacky.

Ahem.  Hello!!!  Our dream is the Dominican Republic.  Not fucking iceland.

Nothing against Iceland.  I'm sure they're a beautiful country.  I'm talking ice-land.

Brr-fucking-chill.  But it's free.

... yeah ... there's a reason ...

I suppose it's ok, because there won't be any distractions and maybe we'll get some rest.

Oh.  Speaking of no rest for the wicked, there was an 'issue' with the pussies.

One of them now has a black eye, that could have easily been a loss of it.

Psycho Kitty took a bit of a beating from The Bastard Prince.

I actually thought it would have been the other way around, but nope.

Psycho Kitty had blood flowing out of his eye at 3:30 a.m., and I thought that we now had 2 one-eyed Fuzzy Family members.

We cleaned him up a bit and found it was cut on the eyelid, only millimetres away from actually hitting his eyeball.

So, he has a bit of a swollen black eye right now and is looking a bit droopy in the lid.

However, I am now armed with spray bottles in every doorway entry.

Fuck I hope this is was the fight that ends the battle.

Do I sound like my mind is blown yet?  I'm pretty sure I'm ready for that straight jacket.

And this is the journey.

my future looks great