here comes the fight ...

Bed.

All day yesterday, all day today.

Shots of pain in my foot and leg, and it didn't help that The Donkey did her best to knock me over again today, and I tried to save myself by using my ripped ankle to get her off.

Furthermore, I suppose going out Saturday night wasn't the BEST thing for me.

Housemaid looked at me like I was a wimp and kinda laughed at me when I said I just couldn't come by for the invite for a Sunday party in the village.

Yeah, well, my body isn't quite as strong as it used to be.  I gave up being strong after the motorcycle accident.

I accept these shots of pain as a warning.  I allow them to tell me I've done 'enough'.

I had told her I wanted to lie down for a few days until Papi got here, and I should have followed my intuition instead of allowing for someone to persuade me otherwise.

I feel so bad for the dogs.

I hear them acting out.

I read the sadness in their eyes that they can't be near me.

I sense the confusion.

"Why are these other people feeding me, but we're in the same house?"

It's OK my little loves.

Papi comes home in ONE MORE SLEEP and you'll feel things are back to normal.

I'LL feel things are back to normal.

The cats will be miserable again, because the dogs will be in the room.

That's OK.  They had a lovely week with some isolated time with me.

The inverter went out last night.

It wasn't the best sleep, listening to the white noise of the fan to try to keep me cool.

It was pretty hot, but Papi comes home in ONE MORE SLEEP to fix everything.

Papi's coming home tomorrow!!!!!  TOMORROW!!!!!!

At least I'll have my love to take care of me.

I'm staying in bed another day.

I think it finally hit me, after I realized that I truly have a nasty injury last night.

I can't just up and run about with a cast on my leg.

Housemaid will just have to find someone else to party with.

I know that she enjoys my time, as does Our Fave's Mom, as she called me a total of 16 times yesterday.

I understand, she's back in town and would love me to see Little Angel, but when you're tired and hurting, you kinda just want some quiet time.

I'm just too exhausted to even try to speak Spanish, so I studied it instead.

I spent the entire day filling out flashcards in the awesome new flashcard program I found: StudyBlue.

When I switched from iPhone to Galaxy, I had to make a whole new batch, and that's still considered studying.

An entire Sunday, filling in flashcards, instead of talking.

I'm tired.

I hurt.

I have a lot of healing to do.

I didn't even go downstairs for a healthy dinner.

Chocolate was on the menu, as I didn't have to get out of bed for that.

The novelty of my first cast has worn off and now I'm into the injury depression.

Chronic pain will do that.

I anticipated it, but hoped I could stay busy enough for it not to hit me.

No matter how much Housemaid tried to entertain me, there's just no escaping the injury depression.  It really is unavoidable.

It has arrived and Hurricane Andréa is just around the corner.

Time to mope in my bed, just in time for Papi to return.

You poor soul, Papi.

I am grateful for prozac.

Oh, but I'll fight that bitch tooth and nail, all the way down to the Pit of Doom.

i have the ability to choose happiness

what to do?

All I want to do is sleep.

Pain meds will do that to you.

However, Housemaid has other plans for me.

After it took ALL DAY just to get downstairs, make breakfast, pay a bill and buy more pain meds, I told her, "I think I'm staying bed for a few days."

My intention was that I would just stay in bed until Papi came home.

She was shocked and said, "No!  Andréa!  My friend invited us to a party!  You HAVE to go!"

I'm not too good at these crutches.

My balance is bad enough with 2 legs.

I've tried to shower, but having that one leg out of the shower doesn't make for a completely clean body.

I feel like a sticky mess, and now I'm supposed to look pretty for a party?

Plus, I'm sweating so much from working these aluminum gizmos.

At least I got a lot of Spanish studying accomplished over the last few days.

I really was meant to slow down.

When I'm better though, I need to work hard.

We just figured out how much we owe for all the bills we incurred from Casa Paraíso, and damn, it's NOT good.

We're going to be living QUITE frugally for quite a while.

No problem.

Prince Papi will have a crash course in how it was for me for all those years when I lived EastSide.

I had MANY years of practise, and here, it's just part of life.

Most people live dangerously on the edge, yet still have enough money for beer.

I can get a sugary treat for 10 pesos when I'm jonesin' for it.

Or make a chocolate bar last 6 days by only having one chunk a day.

Then Papi told me that the wife of the creep has begged me to come back to teaching.

Part of me wants to go under the conditions that he's not there.

However, no money in the world can make up for the possibility that something could happen with this guy.

Yeah, I need the money, but is there a chance that I could get raped for teaching?

Or suffer more disgusting comments that he somehow thinks are appropriate?

Wife says he would never hurt anyone.  Of course she says that.

All I know is, I responded to the wife and explained that I would not be in a safe environment, but she asked if I could teach her child in a different house.  Like maybe a neighbour's house.

What if the creep sees me?

Do I continue, because I need the money, and trust that he will leave me alone if he sees me?

Or do I continue on, looking for other students, eating less chocolate?

Would I be doing the wrong thing by going against my word of keeping myself safe?

Or would I be empowering myself by attaining an income under my terms?

All I know is, the creep never told her what it was he did.

She said he mentioned 'something about my skirt flitting up with the wind'.

Right.

Dude.

You left out the part about your pecker standing at attention, pointing to it and telling me that was 'my fault'.

What to do?

I could really use the money.

i know my inner self will guide me to the right decision

survival.

Shit hit the fan yesterday.

Wasn't mine.  I'm feeling much better thank you very much and I'm also a good aim in the toilet.

We took the last pennies out of our credit cards and we're totally, 100% screwed.

Like, we have zilch and we have people to pay.

The DoorMan will wait a few weeks.  He's a patient guy and has lots of money until we do.  It's the hard workers in our yard that I'm worried about.  They live with very little and depend on our money to feed them and their babies.

We'll be living off staples for a while.  Hello rice 'n beans!  Food of the nation!

... if you like my blog, you could by me a coffee ... here >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Can you see me when I've run out of coffee, begging in the village for a cup, while haggard and out of my mind from the lack thereof?

I don't have anyone in the family who has an abundance of money, so I can't ask them.

Papi, well, he feels that he's been such a thorn in his family's side growing up that he can't ask now.

I reminded him that the last time he borrowed, he paid back.  That shows he's not the same bratty drug addict that just took, took, took.  That shows that we are responsible.

I'm brainstorming in how to get a job here, even though it could mean disaster, because Papi sleeps til quite late and someone needs to be up for everyone; The Carpenter, Dominican Daddy, Housemaid, Little Angel to be dropped off for a few hours.

But I think I need to try to find money for food, and I also need to remember that every time in my life that I've been this desperate, everything always works out.  I will ask the angels to help it work out.

It would be nice if Mr. Lumpy would lend a hand.  Goddam freeloader pops up without so much as OFFERING to paying rent.  That bastard has cost us $800 so far!

I emailed PanMan to say that I wanted to come and talk about how I can help him, and earn money at the same time.

I also thought about all the amazing wheat free, dairy free options in the world that aren't here on the island.

Hey, I need 'em.  I could distribute them, then I could have them and earn money at the same time, no?

It's going to take me way too long to find my musician people to make an income from.  That will come, but not right now.

I need money now.  Prince Papi couldn't even buy his orange juice yesterday!  The horrors!  He goes through 2 litres in a day and a half.  It's better than pop, but I'd sure like to see him on water.

One of those massive water jugs is only 40 pesos, which is equal to one buck and is healthier and definitely cheaper.

I've had to stop drinking the water from my machine, because I can't afford the filters, and we're going through them fast because we STILL don't have clean, healthy water.

Now, we need to buy a machine that will clean the water, akin to my little drinking machine, only for the whole house and pool.

That's a lot of work for a machine, so it's a big bugger, which is a lot of money, so it's gonna have to wait too.

At least it's not shit water anymore.  It's just really full of sediment, but still, I'm thinking that's where that last round of sickness came from.

Someone does owe us some money, and I've contacted them, but no response, so I guess I won't hold my breath on that one.

New 'rule': NEVER do money business with friends.  It inevitably ends with no friendship.  Keep them separate.

I've now lost 2 friends in 4 months due to money and it hurts, really, really hurts to lose friends over money.  From this point forward, money and friendship will never happen at the same time.

Unless I'm giving.  That's a different story.

I give a lot, but I also get screwed for it, like when in a heated moment, someone commented on how selfish we were because we only 'threw a few 20's their way' and that we could have given more.  Live and learn.

Anyway, it's time to try to find a job so that I can keep buying the locals' veggies and fish.

I'm so fucking scared right now it's got my PTSD on high.  Panic attacks galore.

You know it's bad when I look at what I have left of my chocolate and am thinking of how I can ration it out to last the 20 days before we get paid again.

Torture!

More importantly, the puppies and cats need food.  Looks like they'll be eating rice too.

This is where the fun begins and the stories of yesteryear happen.

Survival.

i prosper wherever i turn and i know i deserve prosperity of all kinds

well, we tried ...

We had a full day off.

Both of us were wiped and wasted, but we had a day to be alone.  We couldn't really go anywhere to do errands, because we have a spare tire on that should be used sparingly until we get a new one today.

At first, I thought our day off would be spent sleeping.  I know that's really what I wanted.  You know when I'm eating chocolate at noon, that all I plan on doing is lying around.

But the puppies were being MORE than rambunctious, so we decided to try them out at the beach.

We haven't up until now, because there needed to be some training in place first, and there hasn't been any 'time' to get them out to the water.

The Donkey and Pathetic Puppy don't have all their shots, but we had to do it anyway.  They were using us as launching pads to attack one another in what seemed like their version of rock star body surfing in a mosh pit.

The waves looked pretty tame compared to most days.  We decided to give them a whirl.  I guess it's true that in May the water calms a bit.

What we realized, is only one of us can go in at a time, because the puppies were all over the map.

I thought they were going to run next door to Haiti, so Papi watched out for them to begin with, walking them further down the beach to tire them out.

I went in the water.  The sand in front of our home is amazing!  No rocks at all!  A couple of little dips in the earth that had me losing my already fragile balance, but nothing major.

Out I went allowing every crash of waves to body slam me, occasionally removing my bikini bra.

Arms raised in a vee, I welcomed the power of the water, and giggled with glee every time one would make an attempt to throw me over.

One did.  The undertow pulled me down before the wave smashed me into the sand, turning me over a few times.

... just roll with it ...

That was a little scary, as I concurred with the vast ocean, "OK, point taken.  That is as far as I go."

I kept it to thigh level from that point on, especially because The Donkey didn't like it that I was in the water.

She didn't want to stick with the pack.  She was too afraid that I was going to die.

She whimpered and cried, swimming out to 'save' me, but it was her I had to be careful of with those undertows.

Papi came back and it was my turn to watch the dogs and allow him his water time.

Kids came to watch us play, so I put the dogs back in the yard because of their limited training.  They still jump and some of those kids are tiny.

Papi and I enjoyed the ocean 'alone', even though people watched us from the shore.

We were together.

Nobody else but waves, because if you talk to anyone in our village, they'll tell you it's MUCH too dangerous and nobody ever goes in the water.

We were playing like children, body surfing the crests, and when there was a calm spurt between the pinnacles of surging water, "Quick!  Float on your back!!"

We decided we wanted some solitude at the house, so I made a sign out of wood that said in Spanish, "Please, do not bother us, thank you."

It didn't work.  Nobody cares.  It's not like that in our village, as boundaries are constantly crossed and people just come on in as they please.  When the door is locked, children run to our beach gate and yell my name, or just stare until I notice them, manipulating me into talking to them.

I was grateful for the gift of fruit The Carpenter brought by, and he felt bad that he didn't see the sign first.  He had called my phone to say he was at our house, then came to the door afterward and apologized upon seeing my wooden appeal.

Then, as Our Favourite came to the gate yelling, I tried to tell him that we wanted alone time.  That we would see our friends tomorrow.

It didn't work.  He came back 4 times and the 4th time it was the whole family including the Little Angel.

I went to our front door, and lovingly as possible, explained that we have people here every day and we just need a day to ourselves.

We were only asking for one day, but the look on their faces was horrifying and I'll have guilt over it for all my days, as I've never set a boundary like that with anyone here.

In 4 months, we haven't had that time alone at our home, but it still felt horrible to ask for one day to ourselves, and really, we didn't get what we asked for anyway.

I suppose if we want true alone time, it will have to be done away from Casa Paraíso, or we'll just have to go play in the waves.

It was easier back home to be in solitude, but still, we're looking for paradise more and more within ourselves and not in our abode of beauty.

Still, we had our day at the beach.

i give up the right to criticize myself

rubbish!!!

... your sunday sillies are HERE as for some reason, blogger can't find them.  i'll update later when it's behaving ...

I have 3 ways to beat the garbage problem so far, but it looks like I found a fourth.

First, I found a local who can use all my glass.  I've been saving the jars we use from pasta sauce, or ready to drink juices that we seem to drink aplenty in this heat.

The Housemaid knows someone who could use them to sell their wares, so with ABSOLUTE glee I put them into a bag and handed them over.

Then, I emailed the 4 people I know here who are also fortunate enough to have the money to buy ready made foods and drinks from a store, sold in glass jars.

I'll be collecting them for these folks, even I don't know who the vendors are.

Hopefully, I'll find enough people to do the same, that word will spread and other vendors will want them as well!

The second way, is after the fiesta, I learned that Our Favourite's family has pigs.

Pigs like veggie scraps.

So, I have eliminated produce scraps from the garbage, as I save them and bring them over to the pigs.

It also gives me an excuse to visit those little sty dwellers.  How I love them!  It will be a sad day when I notice one 'missing'.

Anyway, I don't have a composter here, and I'm still getting used to plain old watering of plants!

Maybe one day I'll have one, but for now, it doesn't fester in my garbage, becoming a watery mess, seeping through the bag into the bottom of the can, and the pigs get more food.

Third, I've been saving all of Papi's 1/2 gallon orange juice cartons ...

... again ... boy do we go through a lot of juice here ...

... and cutting an opening in the side, and saving them for more veggie garden space.

I'm a little afraid I now have more garden boxes than I can think of what to do with, so perhaps I'll give them to people in the village for their own little gardening projects?

I dunno.  But I keep saving them.

Then!  I had the problem of Papi's plastic pop bottles.

What to do with those gargantuan piles of trash that took up half the casita because my love has a soda addiction?!?!

Well, I thought I'd put them outside our door in a box and see if someone would take them.

Someone did!  So, I'm saving my garbage from a lot of stuff right now.

There's one problem.

We're not changing our garbage as quickly as we were, so the throw aways from that damn fish I cooked yesterday are festering in the garbage, and it's only half full.

It will take a few more days to get through this garbage bag before I can remove it from our space, unlike how we were going through one bag in two days prior to now.

I'm terrified to throw anything new away, as when the trash can opens, the stench of fish remains permeate throughout the house for a good 10 minutes.

I didn't have the time to ask Our Favourite's dad if pigs eat fish before I chopped that bugger up, so in my can it went.

I'm saving on garbage space, but stinking up the whole house.

Something that I realized as I went to cook that fresh fish from my Pescado Pal, I've never prepared a fish before.

I've seen it done a few times, but without hands on training, well, I'm definitely less than a pro.

I went through 3 knives before I found a suitable one to cut the head and tail off.

Never mind the spiky things on it's spine that were jabbing me every move I made.

Definitely good to ward of predators in the ocean.

Warding me off just fine.

I didn't do a very good job of removing the meat from the bone, but after all the trouble I went to with that food, I had a nice little meal and felt so good for having the fresh protein in my blood system.

But of course, I ate chocolate while I cooked it.

Now, I just need to find someone who wants used paper, wet animal food tins and pop cans, and plastic containers, like that of the cashews we buy every time we're in Santiago.

Bit by bit, I'm at the start of something.

Maybe one day it will be big.

i am filled with success

my padded room ...

Do you have troubles understanding what an eating disorder is?

Here.

Let me help you with how insane it can be.

I have an allotted amount of chocolate for each day in my cupboard.

That right there is part of an eating disorder.  Limiting how much I allow myself.

Anyway, it gets MUCH more entertaining.

Then there's the fact that I won't allow myself to eat it before 5 o'clock.

If I eat it before 5, then I will just obsess for the remainder of the day about the rest of the chocolate that is in the cupboard and will eat everything else I can get my hands on, even though all I really want is the chocolate, so I try to fill myself up with other things until I'm bloated and sick to my stomach to fill the void that which is the chocolate.

So, I try to eat super healthy until it's chocolate time.  After that, all hell breaks loose.

However, having said that, I have to eat it before 6, otherwise the caffeine will keep me up.  There's this magical 5 - 6 pm time that is like my happy hour.

Seriously, I might as well just stick to the rules and all will go much smoother.

Furthermore, I don't allow myself any more than the allotted amount of chocolate, or I will:

1) have too much sugar in my system creating Candida, then,

2) obsess about what I see in the mirror, then,

3) get on the 'wtf, I already ate that much, I might as well eat the whole damn thing' wagon, then, 

4) eat all the chocolate in the cupboard and have no happy hour the next day, which just sucks, then, 

5) get sick from too much so that I'm lying in a tub like a beached whale, calling my friend to say, "Omg.  I'm so sick.  I just couldn't stop eating it!  And now I can't move from the tub or I'm going to hurl."  (true story)

Anyway.  Among all of the above is also the incessant nattering, the worst of which starts around noon.

"We get chocolate in a while!"  It says.

Then around 1 o'clock.  "I can't wait until we get chocolate!  Here!  You better eat some veggies, brown rice and tahini to calm yourself."

Then around 2, "Oh man.  I don't know if I can hold out much longer!  Here!  Have some goat cheese!  Stat!!"

Around 3, I can be rational and say to myself, "You know, if you eat that chocolate, you're going to be really tired from a sugar crash and you won't get anything done."  That curbs me for a while, because the reality of the mid-day crash is enough to not allow me to make it worse.

But at 4, I seriously start to lose it.  "Omg!  I can't wait much longer.  How about we just eat it now and 'behave' for the rest of the day?!?!?!"

It's at this point that I start to snack on whatever I can find that is snack-able to try to convince my brain that the chocolate has to wait, or make the biggest plate of veggies in the world to keep my mouth busy.

At 5, I RIP THE PACKAGE OPEN AND GORGE IN A PANICKED STATE THAT LOOKS LIKE A COUGAR WHO JUST CAUGHT HIS PREY AFTER NOT EATING FOR A MONTH!!!!!

By 5:10, it's done, and I'm sad that I have to wait another 24 hours before I get to have more.

For the rest of the evening however, I must fight my brain off about the chocolate and remind myself that it just isn't going to happen.

Not to mention, my sugar crash usually keeps me down for the count, and I don't much feel like moving anyway.

This is how I live.

Every day.

This is only part of an eating disorder.

The obsession is manic and I have no control over telling it to shut the fuck up.

I could stop the obsession by abstaining from chocolate all together.

Yes!  I could!

Which I've done in the past.

But I'm in the Dominican Republic people!!!!  The best chocolate and coffee in the world!!!  Why would I want to deprive myself?!?!?!?

So, I obsess.

It must be worth it.

I keep doing it.

i learn from my mistakes