Water, water, everywhere

Water was coming dripping through various parts of Casa Paraíso.

Oh so pleasant.

We knew we needed a new roof, because we saw leaking when we first moved in, but it seems that the damage up there has accelerated.

I scrambled throughout the house to find any empty dog dish, bowl, and bucket I could find.

If I didn't have the drops under control with the 7 tubs I found, I would move on to the pots from the kitchen.

Last night, the trick was to find a place where I could write my gratitude list to My Gratitude Buddy, my MC Guru and the Sweet Ex on my laptop, without it being bombarded with rain.

Don't get me wrong.

I actually like the rain here.

It's warm and feels more like a fresh shower than in Vancouver, where it feels like an all out attack of personal space.

Not to mention, when it rains, I get happy for a few reasons.  First, the rain water pulls all the dirt to the bottom of the pool, making it much more clear and easier to get the dirt out.

Now, if only we could work that damn machine to clean out the dirt, we'd be in business.  Until then, I hover on top on floaty devices like a princess.

Anyway, back to the rain.

Second, I get happy because my trees are being fed.  They're new and need a lot of water.

So when I hear the rain teeming down in a full force monsoon, I am pleased.

It also means I don't have to do the watering.  I like watering, because I talk to my trees and tell them how much I love them.

Yet, I hate the sand fleas biting me and leaving me looking like I have smallpox or some other disease, confined to the knees down.

So, there we were dodging raindrops in our bedroom, when we decided to do a bit of budgeting.

Mostly because we now have to have a new roof.  That shit isn't cheap.

Do we go with the plastic tiles?  Or ceramic?  Ceramic would have a better resale value for the house that's for sure.

However, looking at our budgeting, we realized we've gone broke.

Good news is, we really have everything we need now.

All the necessities.

Papi set out with a certain amount of money put aside for getting started with and we've only gone over by a few grand.

... ahem ... the roof ...

After paying for the roof, the landscaping to fix what the pool people destroyed and the rocks out front to save use from the wrath of the waves, we need to live simple.

No problem!  Everything is fine!

Until I realized that my iMovie program stopped being my friend, and I still have to buy an editing program, plus I need a monitor and keyboard so that I can make music again.

Seriously.

We are a little stressed out for money.

No matter.

Once I get my garden up and going, between the veggies and the fruit trees, we won't starve.

The dogs are Dominican.

They're used to rice.

And hey, we haven't been able to wash our clothes for 2 weeks, because our washing machine we just bought doesn't work.  We're starting to look like street people and we're getting used to that too.

'Dirty' in Vancouver has NOTHING on the DR.  We get one wear out of clothes before they look like we've rolled around in the mud.

Especially with The Donkey jumping on us all the time.

However, being broke is not a problem when you have a beautiful view, doggy TV and a pool to de-stress in.

'Broke' is going to be ok.

For the first time ever in my life, 'broke' looks pretty swanky.

And the hammock swings.

my wealth is increasing more and more now

And a big ol' 'Fuck You' to you too.

My braces are too tight to eat and the Brace Face is in full force this morning.

Not to mention my coffee is weak.

But hey!

My love gave me $40 allowance, because I haven't received a penny in 5 weeks.

I thought of finding out the woman's name who hit me almost 3 years ago and asking her if she could spare a little.

Today I'm not feeling very forgiving.

Papi has a ton of new 'friends' on Facebook.  The majority of the 'new' friends are transgender.

Makes sense.  People like people that they can relate to.

Well, yesterday, one of these 'new friends' posted on their status about how the partner in the relationship should keep their mouths shut about how hard it is to see their partner go through a male transformation.

This person's words were something like, "To all you people who are having a hard time with your partners transition, get over it or leave.  It's not about you, it's about the person who's transitioning."

Really, bitch?

Papi and I were pretty sure that was this weasel's response to my blog.

go ahead and hate me, i don't really give a fuck, but thank you for the page hit.

Good thing I'm in a malicious mood today, or that might've hurt my feelings.

Instead of being hurt, I'd like to say fuck you.

You're young and have absolutely no idea what it's like to find your soul mate who is the perfect butch, fall in love, marry them and then find out 4 months later that your butch is being replace with a balding, pot bellied, hairy, middle aged man.

When you're in a marriage, it's about both parties.  You don't get to be selfish and say, "It's all about me."

Well, you could do that, but you'd find out pretty quickly that your marriage is ending and you're left alone.

I'm pretty sure you must be single and bitter, and this is the reason for the pungent taste in your mouth after reading my blog.

I didn't leave my soul mate because he's changing genders.

No, I had to grieve because she was leaving.

The person I married is dying, and I'll now be married to a different body.

So, no.  It is not all about you.

In a relationship, there are 2 people.

One day, you'll grow up and find out what that means, and you can let go of your self-righteousness.

I'm grateful that I've had 10 months to work out my grieving and find strength.

Those words that you spoke are the very words I was afraid people would say when I was first hit with the bomb.

They are hurtful.

However, I'm feeling pretty fucking feisty after finding out what the root of my fear about in this transition, and I'm not hurt.

I'm fucking pissed.

You are the very people that we as partners are afraid of and the reason I started this blog in the first place.

We matter.

Others out there are having difficulty with this, and they're afraid to speak out, lest you say those acrid words and make us feel bad for having natural feelings.

Papi 'unfriended' this immature person, but there are more out there.

We find this defensive attitude everywhere.

How about you remember that we're all in this together?

And again, fuck you.

Back off bitches!

The Hen Peckers are at it again.  Only this time, they're attacking Papi.

don't you fuck with my baby, bitches!! i don't care if your a he, a she, both or none of the above, your behaviour grants the title 'bitches'!!

The Trans Clique is spewing their defamation about my love on forums.

They have no idea about mi esposo's situation, but they feel that Papi should be following their orders.

like tiny little soldiers we all fall in line ...

Papi's job is a difficult subject that my love and I have spoken about numerous times, and mi esposo doesn't take this job for granted.  Papi is very aware of the transition being discussed amongst management at this company, and is waiting for them to figure out this issue on their own.

You see, my love started working at a transition safe house for abused, mentally ill women a few years ago.  Only 'women' can work there, and only 'women' can be housed there.  However, there has been an M-F who was taken in.

The women were uncomfortable with this transgender person at first, because she still had a penis and walked around with a short house coat.

Yet, over time, they became used to the soul inside and accepted her as one of their own.

Stress the words; over ... time ...

The women there adore my love.  Rightfully so!  Papi has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known.  Mi esposo is perfect for the job, because of this.

Abused, mentally ill people need to have this love in their lives, just as much as they need consistency.

I know that these souls would be heartbroken if my love were fired from this job, or even if Papi left by choice.

My love has been slowly telling these broken souls in a sweet way, that they have to be prepared for the day when mi esposo must say, "Farewell."

Slowly ... over ... time ...

It's giving them a chance to mentally prepare for the day when they have to let go of Papi, when it's my love's own time to depart.

Papi knows that time is ticking and that there will come a day when mi esposo must say goodbye, but just like in a romantic relationship, right now is not the 'right time' to break up.

Well, when my love was written about in the newspaper, the trans mafia read it, and are now spitting words of venom over the fact that mi esposo is still working in a facility that employs only 'women'.

What ever happened to free thinking, not being labeled by society, and supporting one another by understanding each other's own journey is just that; their own?

Nope.

The clan is saying that my love is double dipping and being a woman when it's convenient, and being a male when it's advantageous.

One of the biggest ring leaders is adamant that nobody label them as male or female, so how dare they label my love as only a male?

Papi shed a few tears from the hens pecking at my love's beautiful skin.

Cliques.

They are just insecure, scared beings who can't be alone from the clan.  They don't allow free thinking.  They demand you be just like them so they will accept you.

Papi and I are both one in the same kind, who allow each other to think how we feel.  We correct each other when we're too far away from PC thinking that may hurt another.  We love each other and the friends we have, because they, and we, accept each other for who we are.

We don't fit in to these mobs.

We and our friends don't fit in together.

So, in an essence, we are doing our very best to weed out the cliques one by one, find the real friends that we deserve, and feel the pain when the Hen Peckers break our skin.

My love is not hurting anyone by being at work.  Quite the contrary.  Papi's presence would be terribly missed.

If Papi triggered anyone into feeling that my love is an intimidating male, mi esposo would ask to be moved to a different facility in the company.

It's not the pack's choice.

Go on then.  Live your own life.

We'll be living ours with the people who show us love.

Looks like Papi will be making his own Trust List.

and yes.  it was difficult for me to type 'his', so shoot me.

Clique.

My performance went great!

thank you coffee

Only problem with my voice was the lower part of my register.  If that's all the fever took, I'm cool with it.  For now that is.

I'll be keeping the chatting in the ice box at work today.  Gotta make sure my voice is up to snuff for the next 2 shows Friday and Saturday.

It was just wonderful to see so many people last night and receive so much love.

My Person was there.  I told her I was going to the Gender Odyssey and asked if I could catch a ride.

Again I was one upped.  "Sure!  There's even room for you to stay with us if you want!"  This sounds like a great idea, considering the fact that it's right near the conference.

I had asked The Yank if I could stay there, but it may make more sense for me to be somewhere I don't need to take a cab to.

When My Person asked if it was just me who would be attending, I confirmed that it was, only to hear My Person squeal like a teenager with joy!  She took my hands and we were having a moment of bonding and allegiance to the femme club.

She told me about all the different kinds of people we will experience in our workshops.  She told me there would be Rah-Rah-Trannies, there would be Tranny Chasers, and that there would be tranny haters that will make me look like I'm carrying the pom-poms for the Rah-Rah-Tranny cheering foundation.

I told her I just want to find more love and acceptance, and perhaps more allies.  She told me that even she is still at odds.

She told me that there is really nothing wrong with living in both worlds.  Take one hat off and put another hat on.

Sometimes, she's seen as straight, sometimes she's seen as queer.

I just hate the straight part.  I'm so angry that I get thrown into the closet against my will.

When Papi and I go into public, I'll just be the normal straight girl that I fought so hard to leave behind all those years ago.

Then there's the Trans Clique.  There's a very large clique in the transgender community who support each other.  Which is needed.

However, when Papi told me I need to start hanging out with the Trans Clique, I felt uncomfortable.

I don't just accompany femmes just because we're femmes.  I convene with femmes who touch my heart and fill me with strength.

I pal up with straight people who are the sweet souls whom I've loved since before I came out of the closet, and more that I've encountered along my journey of life.

I get together with trans people whom I've watched go through the changes and loved them along the way.

I buddy up with butches that I adore, who have hearts bigger than most people, even though they look so tough on the outside.

There isn't just a clique of people I consort with.  I don't want to hang out with the Trans Clique just because Papi is trans.

I collect my hearts one by one.  I connect with souls who are like minded, sensitive and intuitive in our hearts, and keep them as a prize I've won.

So when Papi told me I need to support mi esposo by hanging out with the Trans Clique, I got very uncomfortable indeed.

Cliques scare the fuck out of me.

They have done damage to me like no other humans on the planet.

Time and time again, they attack the weakest chicken in the coop.  They segregate and plan their attack behind my back, "Ok, so don't talk to Andréa anymore."  They just whisper into one another's ear as they cast their death stare toward me.

Over and over they gang up on one individual and oust them with no effort.  They laugh as a group, pointing from the balcony as I meekly walk away from the home they stole from me.

Repeatedly, they find a way to ostracize one individual to make themselves feel power.  They confirm my fears, and add to the torment of my social anxiety.

Dearest Papi, don't bring me into a place that could take away all the strength I've worked 8 months to build.

I'm still at a point where I am the weak hen who could be pecked to death.