i am insignificant

I feel bad for The Yank.  She couldn't have come to visit at a worst time.

It's not good when Papi and I are depressed at the same time.

Usually one can pick the other up, but we both have shit going on.

Papi is feeling like he has no purpose.

That when he left his job, he left his intent in life.

I've reminded him that when he gets to the Dominican Republic, he will have MANY people to help and he will not feel pointless in this life any more.

I feel insignificant.

Like I just don't matter.

There was a time when I used my music to feel like 'someone'.

I needed that.

I needed to feel like I was loved, even if it was through my craft.

I felt needed that way.

That option left me after the motorcycle accident.

Gone.

I was ok with feeling like 'nothing' for a long time.

However, yesterday really made me realize just how 'nothing' I really am.

I am insignificant.

I'm not needed.

There are a handful of people who love me, and for that I'm grateful, because if I didn't have them, it's times like this that I'd surely disappear.

I tried to say goodbye to a few people at the synagogue yesterday, but soon realized, not too many people cared, so I left in tears.

"We'll miss you," they lied, with a smile on their face.

No, you really won't.

Maybe one day, you'll look at that seat and remember when I'd sit there, but you won't miss me.

I'm not important enough.

That seat will be filled with someone else.

Probably the passive aggressive guy who likes to comment that it used to be his.

Yeah, buddy?

Well, then get your ass there on time and it can be yours too.

Early bird gets the worm.

It was mine.  Not any more.

He can have it with his daughter who really believes the world revolves around her.

Imagine how she's going to feel when she realizes it doesn't?

She'll feel insignificant.

She'll feel like nothing.

She'll feel just like I do right now.

Not very fucking important.

I have no place and it doesn't matter, because there's always someone to replace me.

I just fade into the woodwork like the pretty little wallflower femme I am.

Nothing.

I used to hold people's attention.

Last night, the saddest words I dread to hear came from Papi's mouth, "I wish you were with it like before the accident.  I wish you were lively again."

I had to remind him, "Yeah, morphine will do that to ya."

It's really not good when Papi and I are depressed at the same time.

He hides it so much better than I do.

I just want to disappear.

Oh yeah, right.

That's what we're doing.

Sometimes, I wish I could really believe the positive daily mantras I write here.

i matter and what i have to offer this world matters

peace on earth, well, for me anyhow

I'm doing so much better with my anger toward zealots who use religion for hate.

I really am feeling less angry, and it's a much better way to live.

I'd like to share with you what I found on the internet some time back:

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighbouring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians??

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offence.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is, my neighbours. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbour who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wriggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev 19:27. How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? (Lev.24:10-16). Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev.20:14)

I couldn't even look at the word g*d without feeling anger to the point of turning red, suffering with my heart pounding.  I would use the above as a way to fight.  Now I see it as a way for my own peace.

The bible was written by mere mortals, pen in hand, in hopes to gain power over people, not love.

My anger stemmed from being exposed to mean nuns when I was raised.  I realized, if these were g*d's people, then I wasn't a fan of this g*d.

Also, as a tiny child, I prayed best way I knew how for my life to get better.  It only got worse.  I then decided there was no g*d and was vehemently against anyone who could ever believe in such crap.  It was my only way to survive this world of hate and anger.

I still don't believe in a g*d, but I'm definitely a firm believer in spirituality amongst astral beings that surround us.

I believe in angels.  Nothing has ever swayed me on this position.

Anyway, my point is, now that I'm starting to allow myself my own spirituality, I'm having so much less anger around that three letter word.

It sure feels a lot more peaceful.  I've spent way too many years seeing the word g*d as a synonym for bad because of all the anger I saw in people who believed.

I can now just put two 'o's in the middle and turn it into something I can believe in:  good.

I believe in good.  I believe we all have the power to reach one another with collective love.  One by one, we can change each person in the world, and change the anger and hate into acceptance of one another.

Last night, I set my alarm and woke up bright and early at the crack of 3:30 am Vancouver time.  This was to meditate with the rest of the people in the world who were celebrating the solstice and asking for peace on earth.

You would never catch me waking from my beauty sleep for anything in the past, but I did it last night.

I didn't feel anything like I did from my Soul Activation, but my intent was there.  I sent my positive energy out as best I could, and imagined myself breathing with the rest of those who were doing the same.

Even if I can't feel the angels all the time, they're there.  They are fleeting and will expose their energy when they see fit.

The angels are here and I have so much more peace.

i welcome, and am open to receive all abundance that comes

i see dead people

I wasn't going to write about this, because I was afraid of people labeling me as nuts, but then I realized, people already do.

So, fuck it.  I'm writing about it.

I get visits from my deceased Fuzzy Family.

Every time I've lost a Fuzzy Family member, they come back to tell me they're ok.  It's been happening since I was young.

I have to be honest, I've also had visits from a few people that I've felt a connection to, family or not.

I see dead people, and dead animals.  Sometimes, I even get visits from other people's dead animals.  But that's another story.

Anyway, I have been waiting for The Golden to come, and was fearing the worst; that I'd lost my deceased visitation rights.

Not true.

I talked about it a bit yesterday, but I didn't go into details, and didn't think I would, until I saw Madonna Badger on Piers Morgan last night.

This poor woman lost all her kids in an Xmas fire last year, but she feels her grief is more at peace, because her children come to her in dreams.  She thought she was nuts until she read a book by Eben Alexander called Proof of Heaven.

As much as I don't really believe in heaven or hell, I do believe in an afterlife.  Some cosmic plain that we go to.

Our energy can't just end when we die.  Our spirit must live on.

Well, every animal and human I've felt connection with will visit me as I sleep.

It's not just a dream, and if you've felt this, you'll know what I'm saying.  There's more to it than just fantasy.

When The Golden visited me 2 nights ago, it was really his spirit.  It wasn't just the wanting to see him again and the grief.

He came bounding through the door, knocking me over to the ground with all the love and misbehaving he had when he was here.  He was youthful and energetic again, and his Ghost Face was returned to a rich golden blonde.  He was happy.  He was so full of love and the feelings of love I had to give him, were returned.

I could feel and smell his breath on my face.  I could feel every lashing of that tongue, every wash of wet nose and every tickle of whisker.  I could smell his scent and as I looked into his eyes (yes, he had both of them) I knew he was here.

He was here.

He came back to me to show me that I can stop grieving.  That he'll never leave me.  His spirit has now forged with mine, and he will never leave my heart, nor my soul.

He has a place right there with My Dearly Departed Gypsy.

When Gypsy came to me, it was so quickly after her death, that I couldn't believe it was a visit.  I said to the woman in the visit (whom I didn't recognize until later), "But she shouldn't be here!  She should still be in the hospital!"

This woman calmly told me, "Just enjoy your time with her right now.  This is your opportunity to be with her.  Just be with her."  I did so, sitting with this woman for a very brief moment, until Gypsy partook in her favourite pastime, ripping up the flower beds of the nearest garden.

I recently found the picture of my Great Grandmother, and immediately recognized her as the woman was from the visit.

Not dream, visit.

What I really feel from The Golden returning, is a piece of my heart has been healed.  I am almost in tears from the joy of feeling that he came to me.

It means I am forgiven, or rather that I can forgive myself.

It means I am loved, and I am able to know he's aware of how much I love him as well.

It means I am still allowing these spirits to come back to heal my heart, and I trust I will be able to do so for my next loss.

Thank you so much for coming back old man.

I'm sure you know how much you've healed me.

i recognize and honour my talents, abilities and skills

oh, MY 'god'.

Wow.  My brain woke up from my coffee and the strongest level of ionized water I could squeeze out of that machine, when I realized what an amazing day I had yesterday.

You see, I've been going to the Shul (or as us non-Hebrew speaking folks call it; the Synagogue) regularly for the past month and a half.

I've been enjoying myself, receiving positive messages about spirituality.

I've been so impressed by the consistent positive revelations I've been seizing, that I wrote to the Rabbi and told her, "I have never willingly gone to a house of worship in my life.  Thank you for your positive wisdom and for being on the path of my spiritual journey."

Afterward, they always have a potluck.  I forget to bring food, always, however, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to bring.  I have no idea how to make kosher food really, or even to find the foods to cook with.

Anyway, they are all nice to me even still.

Yesterday was a little out of the ordinary.  My gratitude buddy had to leave right after the service, which left me alone, to talk to people until my 'short bus' came to get me.

Talk to people!?!?!  Do you know how afraid I am of strangers?!?!?

But something magical happened.  I sat down with two old men and debated spirituality, NOT religion.

I was in my glory!!!

I listened to their belief system and was so happy to sense them being ok with how I believe.

I think that's what attracted me to this house of worship to begin with: Free thinking.

One of the first times I went, I listened to an agnostic verging on atheist speak about her journey in spirituality, and what it means to her.

I couldn't believe I'd found someone like myself in a house of worship!!!

Well, yesterday I was sincerely in my element.  There I was, sitting around the table, talking to those two old men who had gads more religious experience, and I realized, I may not have religious education, but I indeed have very strong spirituality.

I may not believe in a 'god', but my spirituality is powerful and mighty enough that two old men, who regularly visit Jerusalem for their religious journey, actually listened to what I had to say about spirituality, and genuinely cared to hear it.

I told them how I believe that spirituality and religion are completely different, and only very rarely do people actually have both.

Most people feel that if they follow the ritual of their chosen religion, that they are closer to their 'god'.  But personally, I believe some of them are further away from their 'god' than I am.  Religious ritual has nothing to do with spirituality, to me.

These old men listened and understood what I was saying.  They accepted my belief.  They didn't belittle me like most zealots and say, "You're wrong.  God is the only way."

No, they questioned my belief system in such a way that it made me understand theirs a little more.  At one point, a woman who had joined us couldn't handle the debate of 'What is spirituality?', 'Where does our soul actually exist?', 'What is our higher power?' and 'Why do we return to this house of worship?' because her belief is one dimensional.

Not to mention, she feels she had an experience, that to her, trumps our beliefs.  What she doesn't understand, is I've had years of an experience of finding my own path of belief, and mine is just as worthy as hers, albeit completely different.

And that's ok!  She walked away because her's was so strong.  I'm kinda glad she did, actually.  I have my own belief system and I'm finding more and more people that have the same beliefs, and we all know that it doesn't matter 'what' we believe in, as long as we have 'something' to guide us along our spiritual path.

I can't tell you how amazing it was to be able to say out loud to someone there, "I'm not comfortable using the word, 'god'."

It was like a release of every spiritual struggle I've had, when the person across from me said, "I only use that word, because it's easier than trying to explain my belief."

Bingo!!  You got it!!

Truly, I have found my people.  Truly, I have found a place where I can be who I am, yet still be in a room filled with people who believe that positivity, not power, is the path to enlightenment.

It set my day up for even more beauty, and that moment I had of Nirvana a few months back had found me once more.

i am secure in myself

halle-fucking-luja

I had another moment of bliss.

Joy of living!  Gratitude for life!  That feeling of elation, because I understand life's secret!!!

It occurred to me at that moment, that I have really lived my life.

I have lived within the permission it has given me, but none-the-less, I have lived.

It doesn't matter that I've had times that have been difficult.

What matters is that even through the turmoil, I still strove to make myself happy.  I didn't do this for anyone else but myself.

I have given myself a gift that nobody can take away from me.

At the same time, nobody else could give it to me either.

I saw my dentist the other day.  Here was this man who has a wife, 2 beautiful children, a breathtaking office view of our amazing city, that consequently, we get to enjoy while he's drilling our mouths, and he really has no money woes to speak of.

All the things a lot of us would kill ourselves with stress to have.

Funny part was, he was envious of the fact that my music is transferable to other countries.

He said, "You are so lucky you can move your talent to the Dominican Republic and do it from there.  I'm stuck here."

I have lived.

I continue to live.

I plan to live a hell of a lot more.

Friday night, I realized that I have created the happiness in my life.

No matter what has been given to me, I find a way to get happier as my life goes on.

I am no where close to believing in some dude up there in Birkenstocks, a toga, with hair and a beard that could use a little trim and dye job.

But I realized, that what I do believe in, the belief in the exchange of positive energy, is my belief.

I could exchange all the beauty other people find in that three letter word I'm supposed to believe in, with the word 'energy' and I finally have a way to relate.

I had tears of overwhelming joy, which were a little embarrassing.  However, My Gratitude Buddy and all the other sweet souls who comforted me made me feel welcome to have my feelings.

You see, I attended the Shul for the 3rd time again Saturday.  What that building lacks in size, more than makes up for it with positive messages and love.

It truly is a place of peace.

I realized that my agnostic verging on atheist struggle has begun to rest.

I am ready to let go of the atheist within me.

I can believe in energy.

I don't have to call it what the zealots prefer I call it.  I have a belief system and it works for me to keep me happy.

The most wonderful part about this, is that in my 3 visits to that place of Judaism, I have found some more people who consider themselves agnostic.

They, too, are searching.

They, like me, are needing more than just a few words in some silly book to tell them how to think.

There are so many free thinking people I have encountered in that building of love, and I realized something yesterday; I fit in.

I've found my place where they allow me to be who I am spiritually.

I have been building my belief of energy since my spiritual breakdown 10 years ago.  I can now say that I'm well on my way to understanding what people mean by praying.

I couldn't get it before, because how could I ask some imaginary dude for help?!?!

I still can't use the word 'pray'.  It's too much of a reminder of the evil in my Catholic upbringing.

But I can say I create positive energy around me.

Those tears of joy washed away my strife of searching for my place.

I have a new path.

It sure is a beautiful feeling.

today's mantra from my MC Guru:

let's live life with joy instead of judgement ~ don miguel ruiz

karma.

I'm sorry if you came by yesterday to find a blog that seemed to be posted, however was not there.

Papi told me to remove it, as it may put another person in danger if the offender figures out who I was speaking about.

So.

Let's just talk about karma.

You can still say karma is a bitch, and I'm it's queen.  I feel like a bit of a sick and twisted person for enjoying this, but when karma actually comes to existence, it makes me happy for the process of life.

When we're done wrong by people, if it's bad enough that we can fall into great despair. 

I just can't tell you how many times in my life I've been attacked by cliques and their leader.

There is always a ring leader.

There are always minions.

There are always going to be people who believe the lies of the head honcho, because they want so badly to be accepted by the person they idolize.

In every case of my life, I have silently writhed in pain from these groups of people.

This re-occurring theme in my life seems to be a bit monotonous.

Yet, every time it happens, I withdraw and allow the lies to be believed.

There's not much I can do to stop the lies and gossip, so I let it be.

I sit back like a tarantula in my web, waiting for the opportunity to strike when someone else has had the same experience.

I can allow people to believe the lies about me, because it weeds out the scum mother fuckers who don't deserve my friendship.

I just found out the worst of their personality.

These people would use my 'friend'ship on Facebook to go through my pages and laugh at my misfortune.

Can you believe that they would go through my pictures and laugh at me being in a wheelchair from brain injury?

I can.

I know whom I'm dealing with.

Well, one person has come forth believing what I've gone through.

All it takes is that one person for me to feel that I'm vindicated.

I know that karma will have her day on all the many cliques who have decided that they can prey on my weakness.

Right back to high school bitches.

Only this time, I'm stronger.

This time, I'm not afraid to say fuck you.

my instincts can be trusted.

Uh-Oh!

Now it seems that Jesus and the devil are fighting for my attention!

You see, I drink ionized water.

Here's my machine that has helped me so much!

People think I'm a kook because it greatly increased my cognitive healing after my brain injury.  After a year of brain games and following doctors' orders, within 1 month, my 5 minute attention span became 20 minutes

yeah yeah laugh away ... i'm telling you ... it's the truth bitches!

I'm a bit of a water fiend/snob.

Don't bother asking me if I'd like a glass of anything when I come by your humble dwelling.  Well, unless it's coffee, but then I probably have had my one cup for the day and will refuse that as well.

Yup.

Off track.

Again.

Anyway, you have to change both the filters every once in a while when the tracking number gets to 9999, and the numbers are displayed on the front.

So, I approached my wonderful machine to fill my super thick Ikea glass full of oxygen filled love.

 As I got right up to the machine, I saw this:

I suppose that if there is a 'God', and Jesus is hanging around with G'pa in the attic, then The Devil should have a few words in as well, right?!

I mean, we can't really just listen to one side of the story, right?

It's only fair.

All I can say is I hope I don't start seeing Jesus in my toast, or The Devil in my dreams.

But really, all I want to say is I'm still waiting for my phone call from 'God'.

If this phone call does come, you're allowed to legally commit me to an institution.

No, really!

You might as well, because I'll probably be sitting in the corner sucking my thumb.

That would be the final straw that would blow my mind.

In the meantime, while I'm waiting for 'God' to surface and prove it's existence, I'll just keep trudging along with life as I know it.

I mean, it's super important to get in my America's Next Top Model quota, not to mention I'm starting on the next film score.

which has me sooooooo excited!!! this one will be right up my industrial music alley!!!

Now that The Devil has made it's appearance for this agnostic verging on atheist, I can see that my life is balanced again, and I will be back to slamming the door on the zealots that come a knockin'.

There ya have it.

I thought I was famous here in Blogger and Tranny Terrorist land!

Nope.

Even Jesus and The Devil want a piece of me.

Either that or the medicinal marijuana has fried my brain, leaving me delusional.

But then again, I do have pictures for proof!

Jesus lives!!!

Ok.

I'm pretty sure Jesus is stalking me.

Let's back up for a sec.

Remember the sewage flood and The Great Sewage Flood Purge?

It's been a while since I've been to the attic to see what clothing I have.

Well, if I'm being honest, the brain injury didn't even allow me to know about all that existed up there.

I now have a brand new bunch of dresses to choose from!

The real reason I was up there was to find my winter puffy coat.

Found it!

And guess what I found in the pocket?

Seriously.

Of all the people that could receive this little gem, this agnostic verging on atheist is the last one to actually appreciate this gift.

I'm pretty sure that if I believed in 'God', I would be shouting from the mountain tops that he's sending me messages.

No.

It's just Jesus, and here is my gift:

I thought it was probably the Tranny Terrorist making a funny, but my love assured me he didn't do it.

Honestly.

Who's the one who keeps getting the zealots at the door?

Who's the one who incessantly has to explain to the G'ma that I don't believe in her 'God'?

Who's the agnostic verging on atheist who gets royally pissed when people try to push their beliefs on her?

And who's the one who has Jesus in their pocket?

Me.

I don't really get it.

It definitely wasn't G'ma who put this gem in my pocket.  G'ma can't get up the stairs.

g'ma has just left for 3 months!! my blood pressure has resumed normal levels ...

So, there's a mystery in the house, and I'm pretty sure I know who did it.

Yup, it's Jesus, and he's stalking me.

I don't deny that he existed, but I have a hard time believing that he's always hangin' around me.

Though I just have to wonder, who's the devil who keeps taunting me with all this!!??!?!

Hang on!!

Maybe it was the ghost of G'pa.  I occasionally feel him in the house, and apparently he was a real joker.

So there it is!  I just figured it out!!

G'pa has combined forces with Jesus and they're playing games with me.

Papi always says, "I wish you got to meet G'pa."

I have, Papi.

I have, and he's a cheeky bugger.

All Hail Snak Oil!

Yeah, everything always works out.

I now have in my hot little hands enough grocery money for a good 2 weeks, and Papi can now spend all his on gas, credit cards and rations for the Fuzzy Family.

I am fortunate enough to be sharing my life with a very generous person.  My love hates that I don't accept money from him without a fight.

I think I am this way because when I was young, I had a single mom who had to take care of 2 girls on her own, and I learned that handouts are embarrassing.

As an adult, I know they're not.  I know that giving to someone who is down on their luck makes us feel good.  It's not a burdon.  It feels good.

I have offers from beautiful friends for help right now, yet all I want to do is find my own way.

I am too stubborn and too independent for my own good sometimes.  I feel like I have to do everything on my own.

None-the-less, I will have enough to feed this organic eating body her treasures of nutrients to continue to repair this broken carcass!

I'll tell ya, earning my food on the shoot was so much fun.

I now know that I really need a job where I'd be allowed to take pain killers.  I felt the pain, but it didn't debilitate me like it would have if I hadn't had the option to slay that bitch with Snake Oil.

At one point, things were a bit dicey in my bitch of a back, and I took a bit too much to kill the pain, and I kinda had my own little party there on the set. 

whoops!

Damn my bass is heavy!

It's damn fucking heavy!

But that's what I bought it for.  Heavy bass with a heavy sound.

I feel like I need some kinda contraption that would just let it float while I play.

Lord knows that because of the Motorcycle Accident I won't be touring with that beast of a bass anytime soon.  I think this new body is much happier making film scores.

My mind however?  My mind was ready to jump on the bandwagon last night and sign up to a tour for country loving fans. 

just hook me up with the Snake Oil and I'll be on my way!

Anyway, I really started this rant about how life really works out.  The moment you're down to your last penny, something comes along.

I remember needing to find a home that was mould free.  This is a hard thing to find in Vancouver, because we're living in a rain forest, hence almost every home has mould.

One week before I would have been homeless and sleeping in my car again, I found the place.

Crazy isn't it?

Sometimes life is just so sweet, which is good, because it makes up for the crap we have to deal with.

As long as you can see the positive and be grateful for it, it will always come.

You see, sometimes it does come and we don't really see it.  Sometimes it's because we're so fogged up, focusing on the bad.

When I got clean and sober, I had to learn how to see the good.  If you're feeling like you have nothing good in your life, take this challenge.

Get yourself one of those Fat Little Notebooks, and every time something good happens, write it in.  By the end of the day, if you don't have 10 things to be grateful for, think again.  There's always the one we miss first.

We have good friends and family in our life.  And if you can't say that, then start searching for them.  They're out there.  I've found mine.

Look, in terms of gratitude, I'm talking about even driving to a destination with a great green light wave.

You know the one right?

You get green after green after green and you wish all those days of commuting could be so lovely.

That little moment of 'yes!' is a time to see that there are so many good things in life if you look for them.

Write them down.  I'm telling you my friends, it teaches you to learn gratitude, and send that pessimist elsewhere.

And now, I'm going to go roll in my $50s that I earned yesterday, then I'm going to take them shopping and buy some bright, gorgeous, organic green collards.

On the Upswing.

It's amazing how the moment we speak about 'secrets', they begin to lose their power.

I believed that nobody would think my 'secrets' were something to be affected by.

As a young teenager, I went to my mother for help with my emotions, and was told, "You've got nothing to cry about."

I replied with, "Well, the counselor told me I do have something to cry about," and I proceeded to tell my mom I'd been abused.

The reaction I got from my mom was very difficult, "Was it dad?" she asked.

As far as my memory was concerned at that point, I could only shake my head 'no', because it wasn't the memory I was talking about.

However, hearing your mother jump straight to assuming it was my father has left me with questions to this day.

did he?

Anyway, it's all related; the reason I went off the edge over papi's male transformation.

I know I was looking for something to explain why I reacted so bad.  I know it's not normal to become catatonic for 6 weeks in a La-Z-Boy when your spouse tells you they're going to go through gender transformation.

Well, I get it now, and it really has lost it's power.

I've connected the dots.

I now realize why I slipped into the Pit of Doom when the bomb was dropped.  It was a familiar place of fear, same furniture, and the silence was the same reaction.

It was somewhere I would frequent, until I figured out how to work with the pain and stay out of the Pit.

Now that I'm out, I realize there is another layer to work on, however I can see that it really can't hurt me this time.

I've learned too much from life to allow it to win.

Yeah ... I needed to really look at my 'secrets'.

I also needed to 'check out' in my every day life for a few days.

Papi and I took a little drive down to the U.S. to visit the Yank for her birthday.

During our drive back, it really kicked in that there were dots to connect.

I felt the fear of my 'secrets' dissipate when I spoke about them to Papi.

I didn't ever want to admit my 'secrets', because I couldn't handle another person saying, "That's nothing to cry about."

Papi didn't even come close to laughing at my story.

Instead my love wanted to find one of the fuckers that created my pain and have a 'word' with them, "No, that's something to be upset about."

I had confirmation that I'm not just wallowing for no reason.

I don't know where it comes from, that as the victim in assault, we tend to negate our own feelings and pass them off as 'no biggy'.

We downplay.

We decide not to press charges.

We don't want to talk about it, because someone may laugh and tell us we're being ridiculous.

We all do it, but why?

Now that I have strength from my love telling me that it was a big deal, I'm feeling that I can overcome it.  My fighter instinct has risen once more.

It's going to be work, it always is, but all I need is support.  It was all I needed to get moving to the next level of healing.

I was able to hold Papi close, give loving kisses on his cheek and say, "I love you soooo much," without any exceptions.

Bring it on bitches.

There is no way it's going to keep me having adverse feelings about my love's male transformation.

Indeed, if I believe mi esposo has such a massive, understanding heart that they would make an exception to his line of work, then damn!  I should feel very fortunate that I too get to experience my healing of this 'male' figure as a good teacher.

I didn't marry any of my offenders, and that's all I need to remember.

oh. my. god. well actually, YOUR god.

I know I vent a lot about religious zealots, but here's one that I just need to get out.

So, there we were having the most BEAUTIFUL sights of nature that could ever be witnessed, at the top of the mountain in our area of Puerto Plata.

They call it the Tereferico, but basically it's a tram that takes you up to see the views of the ocean, the city and the local rolling hills of green.

So amazing.

We got accosted by the merchants at the top and got suckered into buying their wares.

It doesn't feel bad to give money for their wonderful goods, but damn they're aggressive!

At the end of our financial beatings, we were walking away and the nuts attacked us.

"Here!  You both get one of these!"  The man handed us 2 pamphlets that had a cover that read: 'How to get out of debt.'

This is a topic that is always interesting to me, as Papi and I are not too good at keeping the credit card put away. 

hence ... here we are in the beautiful caribbean thanx to mastercard

But when I looked a little closer it had all the markings of religious propaganda.

"No thank you," I passed the pamphlet back.

"Oh, you go ahead and take it.  You can read it later."

"No really!  We don't need it.  We don't follow religion."

"But you don't know when you'll need to call on god," he was getting pushy now.

I tried to explain in my 'spanglish' way that I don't believe in god and there's no point in me having the pamphlet, but this was when they begged me to keep it because ... 

oh get this ...

... because, "You don't know when later you will want to pray to god to change.  When you don't want to be gay, god will help you." 

WTF?!?!?!?!?

Seriously.

Who the fuck asked me if I WANTED to change?

Dearest religious mother fucking brain washed slime balls:

Please pray to your fucking 'god' for tolerance.

Please pray to your invisible leader in birkenstock shoes to ask what 'judgement' is and who is to be judging.

Please pray to your mother fucking, fear instilling, imaginary friend to learn what respect is.

Please learn that your mother fucking 'god' doesn't exist, because if he did, he wouldn't have fuckwads like you telling me that I should change so that your 'god' would love me.

I have all the fucking love in the world, and I don't need another imaginary friend.  The one I already have is fine thank you very much.

I have the joy in my life that most people would pay to have if they could.  Do you really think that I want to change that just to appease your imaginary friend?

CHANGE?!?!?!

Why the fuck would I want to change this life of joy and love and become a sad-ass loser like you. 

end vent.

So.

Papi and I went and took pictures of us holding jesus statues in our hands.

Yes.

We held jesus up. 

goddam ... i'm sure jesus would love your fucking love and tolerance you mother fuckers.

Other than that, hey, it was a beautiful day here in the Dominican.

Except for the power outages while we're trying to listen to the hockey play-offs.

Third world country indeed.

And what the fuck is a 2nd world country?  Do they have religious zealots there?

Love-Able

Cherry blossoms.

Their fragile petals bloom with immeasurable power.

"It's spring!  It's time for the winter demons to leave," they say.  Their pillowy strength reaches for the sun, cleaning the air for a new season.

They take over the streets with happy sights as I drive these pink enveloped tracks.  A renewal of vitality with their injection absolving my veins.

It's time for spring cleaning.

It's time for our belongings to be returned to us.  I clean in preparation.  I'm readying myself for the purge.  I say goodbye to pieces of myself that I thought I needed.

I don't 'need' them.  They are filler.  Items meant to satiate.  Ironically, all they do is make a room more confusing.  Too much to look at in one sweep of view.

Upon opening a bewitched box that hasn't been visited in 5 years, I brace myself for a goodbye to my spiritual past.  A time when I tried so very hard to believe in a 'god', 'goddess' or any kind of 'higher power'.

All I could come up with was molecules of energy.  There is energy in this box.  I could feel it's past attempts speaking to me with liveliness.

Positivity.

This magical box carries a time of immense healing.

This enchanted box also contains words to myself from the past:

On Sunday, March 15, 1992 @ 11:30 at night, you cried.

You envisioned yourself with a love and that beautiful thought was replaced by being broken up with.

You cried.

You wrote 2 poems.

You thought you are not the one to ever have a relationship.  You don't believe love could enter your life.  You believe that you are destined to be alone forever, because you are terrified of being hurt.

It's much easier to be lonely than to be rejected.  You realized that all those times you cried because you were 'lonely', were really because you were too frightened to love and be hurt again.

And again, and again.

Your eyes were swollen and you realized there was no way you could get up the next day at 5:30 a.m. to go to your aerobic class.

So.

How do you feel today?
 
Today?  I feel a hell of a lot better than when this note was written.

Life can still throw adversity my way.  I'm not sure why this path is so rocky for me.

It just is.

But I'll tell you, my heart is much stronger than when this note to myself was penned.

I am lovable.  I am capable of being loved and that relationship I always imagined is here.

I'm living the dream.

Yes, I cleaned out the house from the flood.  I cleaned out items that are not necessary to this new world.  I'm ready for more healing from my past.

I will continue to keep this note.  I will read it again in another 10 years perhaps.

I will keep these words as well.

The beginning of belief

When I spoke to my person about the change in scent of my love and how it drastically affected me, my person told me it could be a deal breaker.  It could be the one thing that someone could feel is too much to bear.  Scent is one of the strongest senses we have.  Sometimes, we don't even perceive we're smelling anything, but our psyche recognizes it.

It's usually the first inkling of attraction we have for someone and we don't even know it.

I told Papi about our conversation and what my person said.  Like always, my love was shocked.  I believe there is an aspect of denial in mi esposo's world as well as my own, and it's possible we have the same denial.  It's possible we both just think the other is going to zap out of their current state. 

I haven't had tears for 2 full days.  I'm sure this is going to be day three, (**enter gitty smile here**) but I think that my love feels that now that I've found my person, I'll just snap out of it and jump straight to acceptance.

Sorry boo.  Ain't gonna happen that way.  We still have work to do.  It's just that I can do the work without hyperventilating and feeling the only way to end the pain is if my spirit dies, giving me that much searched for peace. 

So, when I told my love that the 'man stink' could be something I wouldn't be able to handle, and that my person said my love may have to shower with highly scented soaps before coming to bed, or entering in to the big love fest, Papi was silent.

Bio-men do have to shower more frequently, or find someone who can deal with the lack of hygene.  I'm not one of the people that can deal with that, and fortunately, I'm not straight.  (**phew**)  However, here I am in what I will always consider a lesbian marriage, and someone has the 'man stink'.

The conversation ended when we moved on to the drama at hand: a poor little kitty that is part of Papi's small pet sitting business.  Molly had to be rushed to the vet because her diabetes was out of control and her mom was away for holidays.

It was a great diversion and caring for this little gem took our entire day.  We arrived home late for me; 10:15, and Papi convinced me to watch a movie to spend more time together.  I warned mi esposo that we could have a snoring, drooling wife on our hands, but we settled in anyway.  When the movie was done, I staggered off toward our attic space we now inhabit since the sewage flood.

Then I heard it.

Papi was getting in the shower, cleaning that gorgeous body with my love's favourite scent: Old Spice Body Wash.  Not my essence of choice, but damn well beats 'man stink'.

I glowed.  It was such a loving gesture and I remembered at that moment why I married my sweetheart.  I remembered who it is that I want to spend the rest of my life with.  I remembered how much I am loved and how much Papi expresses this devotion with every chance there is.

I looked around at the safe haven that my love has built for me.  During the sewage flood, we've been reduced to necessity only.  However, Papi grasped pictures of us together before the insurance vultures did.

Papi had strategically placed these visual memories of love in our skeleton of a home not only so we still had some familiarity, but also because my love does indeed find every chance to declare the adoration inside that big mushy heart.

I went to bed feeling loved and safe.

I went to sleep with ease and woke this morning to see the peaceful face of mi esposo.  My love who will do anything to prove our bond is strong.

I couldn't have chosen a better partner to spend my life with.  Through all my tears for the past 6 weeks, every gesture my love makes has said, "I believe we'll make it."

I am starting to believe as well.