dropping weight

When I write in my blog, it's stream thinking, and I allow the weight to be lifted from my mind.

As I write how I'm feeling, answers to problems come out.

When I write, it's public.

When I write, it's honest, and I leave details in that other would not, for fear of how they might be judged.

When I write, sometimes it gets me into trouble.

Usually, when I write, I am able to take those words and deal with the issue.

This time is no different.  I'm feeling much better today, however still feeling on the edge of tears and feeling quite a bit of anxiety.

It hurt my friend that I mentioned her here instead of talking to her first.

On the flip side, it also gave way to receiving support and love from friends.

Papi and I worked things out for the most part.

After talking about why we hurt each other with words, I learned that I said things that were hurtful too.

Like saying that what he was working on the new fans for himself.  When really, he was working on it for us and the cats.

I implied that he's selfish, when I know he's not.

He's very giving, sweet and compassionate.  When he's not depressed, that is, not unlike myself.

He apologized, as did I.

I took a few more steps today.

Now I'll behave and not get too overzealous with the thrill of it.  I vow to take the best care of my ankle I possibly can.

I would do it for the dogs.  I take care of their health issues with love.

So, I will take care of my own with the same attention and care.

After this weekend, I think I should be able to start making healthy food again and take off the weight I've put on lying about eating really bad food.

I'm having grave issues with what I see in the mirror.  It's not pretty.

I limited my food intake yesterday to try to calm my mind.

This is the worst thing I could do to myself while I'm trying to feel better.

This does not fix my heart.  This hurts me further.

Today, I'm starting my day with coconut water.

I hacked them open with a machete and was donned the beautiful, healing energy from those fuzzy orbs.

I don't have any coffee.

Let's hope the coconut water keeps me from lashing out.

The dogs are needy and making me crazy.  They can feel my energy.

They want to help, but they're not helping.

They act out, because my emotions are in a whirlwind.

They feel me.  They act accordingly.  They are my indication.

I've been quite aggressive with them, telling them to leave me alone.

The Thug was actually depressed last night.  That broke my heart.

My pain and anger has prompted a sweet, loving soul to hurt at the sight of me falling.

If we think our emotions are our own and don't affect others, we have got to give our heads a shake.

We affect others greatly when we are in this space of depression.

Depression makes us selfish.  We only think about ourselves.  We can try as we might to think of others, but we just can't do it when we have that fog.  It comes out forced and forged.

I don't want to be selfish.

I want to think of these little loves that I adore so much, and not push them away because they're trying to help.

They are trying to protect me.

I suppose I should do the same and start eating better for my mind.

I need to lose weight.

In my heart.

i dissolve all blocks to reaching a healthy weight

Gratitude Day 2/10
1. I am grateful for coconut water.
2. I am grateful my friend forgave me.
3. I am grateful Papi and I love each other enough to work things out.
4. I am grateful I took some steps today.
5. I am grateful for the rain to feed my garden.
6. I am grateful for my Fuzzy Family's love.
7. I am grateful for gratitude lists.
8. I am grateful we have electricity.
9. I am grateful I can use a machete.
10. I am grateful I can find gratitude. 

gravity work your magic.

Oh, the ebb and flow of emotions.

Looks like that wave has crashed into the sand today.

Hurricane Andréa is upon us and she is one massive shitstorm.

I have the feeling I'll be wearing the cast for more than the 3 weeks they told me.

I'm still having a lot of pain.

So, having pain means, I'm trying to rest with my ankle up.

Resting too much means my bitch of a back acts up, because it does NOT like to be lying down with all my organs pressing on it for too long.

Fuck you back.  Like I need your fucking bullshit right now.

Then there's the meals I'm being fed, which are increasing the weight of fat pushing against my back as well.

Papi isn't much on cooking healthy food, so whatever is easiest for him is my meal; hot dogs, pasta, cornchips, chocolate.

I'm rolling around like a bloated manatee and having a major issue with my chemical imbalance.  Wheat makes me a little freaky.

Fuck you food allergy crazy brain.  How about we lay off the fucking wheat spaz-out, OK!?!?

Then, add in the fact that my cycle is a week and a half late.

I'm NEVER late.

I highly doubt Papi got me pregnant.

But I'll tell you, this is the PMS people use as an excuse in murder trials.

Perhaps it's due to stress?

Or, perhaps, all that sweating I'm doing has nothing to do with the crutches and the exertion it takes to get around.

Maybe I'm just going to stop that monthly womanly hell all together now and I'm having hot flashes sent directly from hell itself.

I'm old enough to be freed from my womanly duties.

You know what I don't understand?  If my fucking uterus won't give me a fucking baby, then why the fuck do I have to suffer through womanly hell every fucking 3 weeks?!?!?!

Huh?!?!?!  A big fuck you to my uterus.  If I could, I'd rip you out myself you fuckwad!

Not to mention, when I don't exercise, my brain gets a wee bit off kilter.

Anyway.

Put it all together, and I'm a fucking mess today.

I got up and cursed Papi's name a few times when I saw my bread wasn't put back in the freezer.

I'm glad he wasn't up, because after that, I really lost it.

I found our new cutlery in the cutlery drawer on top of all the old cutlery in a colossal clusterfuck of silver.

Swearing his name, I ranted, "What!?!?  Am I living with a fucking child?!?!?  And those fucking dishes!!!  I'm wobbling around in pain and you can't help with the fucking dishes?!?!?!"

When I finally had my coffee I calmed down a little, and remembered that there are many factors adding to my bad attitude today.

That it's not the cutlery or the bread.

I'm not myself today.

I started feeling messy yesterday when I couldn't get the mother fucking free video website to work so I could watch a fucking show and take my mind off the fact that I'm not able to play my fucking piano and ease this fucking insanity.

... excuse the run on sentence ... just felt right ...

I signed up for a free month of Netflix to watch Breaking Bad.

It was a good distraction to watch violence and anger played out by someone else, instead of spewing pea soup with my head rotating a few times.

I'm fucking sick of this.

And like I said, I'm pretty sure this fucking cast is staying on for longer.

I'm not impressed and I'm losing it.

However, what goes down, most definitely comes back up again.

Today's mission is working on patience.

everything happens for a reason

switch.

sunday sillies ...

I have sleep anxiety.

If I know I HAVE to get up early, I just can't sleep.

Here, people get up with the sun.

Easily 6 a.m.

I remember asking the teens, "Are you up to make it to a class by 8 a.m.?"

They laughed at me.

It's not like the teens in Canada.

Teens in Canada will sleep until their mother finally drags them out of bed.

Or at least, that was me, and a handful of friends who can relate.

Not here.

They're up early and working.

Not me.

I try desperately to keep up with the schedules here.

Everyone is so bright eyed, and then there's me.

Don't talk to me until the coffee has done it's job.

But even on my Saturday to teach, I still find that coffee isn't enough because I'm so tired from not sleeping well the night before.

I'm not sure if you noticed a pattern, but there is very rarely a blog on Saturday.

I scramble to get up and out to The Garage Band for the first class of teens.

Then when I'm finished the last class of 7-12 year olds, I'm done and needing a nap.

So I nap.

I just need so much sleep on Saturday.

Anyway, this week, the regular group of teens didn't show up.

There were only 2 kids, who are not teens, but sing with the teens because they're friends with them.

Second group?

One child.

Third group?

One child.

Granted, it was nice to have private lessons that day.

The last child, she's something amazing.

She is absolutely brilliant and gets music quickly.

I'm teaching them some English words.

It was a riot!

I told them, "I sound funny speaking Spanish, so now you sound funny speaking English."

They got a kick out of it.

The hardest word for them was 'sleeps'.

Here, they really don't pronounce very much of the letter 's' in a word.

They drop that letter.

Making it even harder for me to understand anything.

Trying to get them to put an 'l' after an 's' was really hard.

They'll get it though.

And eventually, I'll be able to roll my 'r' properly.

Right now, I just do it at the back of my throat like I'm a growling dog.

I'll get it.

They'll get it.

And we'll help each other.

my pace is perfect

guess what day it is?!??!!?

Papi comes home today.

Not a moment too soon.

There is going to be some serious training.

The Donkey is out of control.

Now she doesn't even bat an eye at having the water squirt her in the face for jumping up on us.

She is massive.

She is strong.

When she jumps on you, she is staring you eye to eye.

You're the same height with an animal that, if she didn't like you, could do some real damage.

She REALLY needs work.

I would love to find someone on the island who could help us.

My regular obedience training I do is just not good enough.

Papi is coming home to trouble.

Papi is coming home to some dogs that don't know how happy they're going to be.

Yeah, they're acting out because I am locked away in my cage.

I don't go outside.

I just tell them I love them through the bars.

I don't open the windows.

I sit at the table yelling at The Donkey to stop beating the shit out of Pathetic Puppy.

I sit and look at the pool, wishing, swearing at my cast, while sweat is dripping from my body because I don't open the windows.

I don't open the windows, because what's the point?

I have to ask for help to close them again before I retreat to my castle tower.

I just can't do it.

So, I lie upstairs with the fan trained on me, while I listen to the dogs beat the shit out of each other, barking.

Going downstairs to eat is too much of a production.

I do the once in the morning for my coffee, because we all know I wouldn't survive without it.

Then I sit there, drinking it, sweating profusely.

I'm not exaggerating.

When those windows are closed in this house, it is a sauna.

I come upstairs and strip my fully soaked clothing, then sit on the edge of the tub to shower what I can with my cast resting on the toilet.

Papi comes home today.

Windows will be open.

Papi comes home today.

Dogs will get attention.

Papi comes home today.

I get love.

Papi comes home today.

i have much to celebrate

Beautiful

The dogs slept through the ENTIRE night!

As in snoring, dreaming of chasing cane toads, and letting out the stinkiest farts, due to the hotdog nibs I've been giving them for training rewards.

Do you know how I KNOW they slept the ENTIRE night?

Because I didn't.

Not a wink.

Full on fucking insomnia.

It may be a double coffee day.

I'm not good at having naps in the day then trying to sleep at night.

It has never worked for me.

But what could I do?

Those little pills Dr. Bob gave me knocked me out.

And they really worked.

My ankle is very close to being deflated and boney once more.

Anyway, all night long, I had the pleasure of running a song through my head that I worked on all day yesterday.

You know the song.

There's no way you wouldn't, unless you live in a time warp bubble of some kind.

Christina Aguilera's 'Beautiful'.

I'm trying to find as many positive, inspirational songs for the kids as possible, because the songs they choose are just about sex.

This whole country is all about sex.

As much as they are songs I am drawn to as well, with their contagiously characteristic beats of the Dominican Republic, I can't have them singing that for people from other countries when it's time to perform.

I know it's culture here, but I just can't chance that there's a Canadian predator in the audience who speaks Spanish, getting off because my little innocent children are singing suggestive lyrics.

So, I am translating 'Beautiful' into Spanish.

The translation was already online, but not the pentameter.

I've had to go through every single syllable and beat, to try to figure out the placement of each word.

I'll tell you, my brain has not had this much stimuli since the motorcycle accident, and that includes rewiring from brain injury.

It's so good for me.

Like, REALLY good.

Except for the obsession part.

Before the accident, I would have sheer infatuation with whichever song I was working on.

It was just part of my everyday breathing, that reverence.

Before the accident, I felt emotion with music and would frequently cry when a song I was working on moved me in the right way.

Yesterday, while working out the piano part for the song, that grace returned.

I was singing the English lyrics to get my singing/playing coordination down for the Spanish parts, when all of a sudden, I felt my heart being overtaken with elation.

The instrumentation, the melody, the words, they all came together to give me that feeling of the real reason I make music.

It actually happened.

I wiped the tears of joy away, thanking the angels for that moment.

I've been working towards that feeling since the accident.

I honestly thought I was broken.

I accepted that I would never feel like that again.

I felt I would just fake it for the rest of my life, but the real thing happened.

I spent 4.5 years rehabbing my body and mind from the accident.

Now it's time to rehab my musicianship.

And it is something beautiful.

Beautiful.

i fully approve of who i am, even as i get better

a full plate

sunday sillies...

I need to manage my time a little better.

Papi will tell you this is an understatement.

This actually has nothing to do with my brain injury.

I've been like this forever, but still, WITH a brain injury, it makes things really tough.

I forget what I'm supposed to do all the time and then at the last minute, I'm scrambling to get things done.

Then I'm stressed.

Then I'm a nightmare to be around.

I stressed myself out so bad that I didn't sleep all night Friday and couldn't teach the kids on Saturday.

I got Papi to put a 'no class today, Andréa is sick, sorry!' sign on the garage.

Sick is one way of putting it.

When I'm in that state of not being able to sleep from anxiety, 'sick' doesn't come close to describing it.

Then I spent all day yesterday frantically editing the YouTube show, and today, my panic is to get a song prepared for the kids at Dream Project tomorrow.

That one was sprung on me yesterday by MusicMan.

I'm not really responsible for that procrastination.

When a musician asks me to prep something, I never say no.

I just pull my hair out all day trying to show the world I'm good enough.

I feel like I'm always hanging by a thread.

I've always felt that way.

I see other musicians carry on with their jobs and I never see them sweat.

Mind you, they don't see me sweat.

I do that alone.

Then I show up and try to act like I'm a pro.

Perhaps that's what everyone else does too?

I don't know.

All I know is, today's mayhem will be learning the Marc Anthony song, 'Vivir Mi Vida' on the piano.

Thank g*d I know all the lyrics and the main themes of the song from teaching The Garage Band for the past month.

Phew!

At least I have a leg up on that one.

But the other night, I realized, I'm supposed to be having fun here.

This morning, someone asked me if I could teach them bass.

I actually said, "Not until September."

Me!

I admitted I was too busy!

I'm proud of myself.

However, it does have a lot to do with Papi.

He repeatedly tells me what he's learned from other expats; that here, you have to choose one thing a day.  You can't possibly do more than that in this country.

It's true.

I'm learning.

I'm here to enjoy my life, not be stressed!!

Alas, off I go to fret over a song for the kids tomorrow.

My only thing today.

Of course, that is other than washing my hair, toasting my coffee, cutting up the pineapple before it rots, doing the dishes, paying attention to the dogs, and more.

What's Papi doing?

His one thing a day.

Sleeping.

i do well in all my assignments and i love learning

it is possible!

I'm tired and I want to kill the Fuzzy Family today.

Apparently, so does Old Ghost Face.  We're all a little cranky.

I'm sure it was Pathetic Puppy who tore into the garbage.

The Thug has been hunting cats all night.  That is of course, when he wasn't panting from the heat.

The Donkey has been jumping on to the bed, causing Sir Bark-a-Lot to do what he does best, and Jake-a-Like has been sprawled along my body, making me warmer than I thought possible.

This is the first day here that I can actually say, "I'm too hot."  This will be the first day I'll experience what gratitude for a pool really means.

It's not so much the heat, so much as what comes with it.

Our air conditioner doesn't work when there's not enough city power to juice the batteries.

That means nobody in the village has had any power for a good day and a half.

At least we had enough to run our water.  People in the village have nothing.  It fucking sucks and don't get me started on how the government doesn't care about the people here.

Anyway, it was hot last night, but I don't usually mind the heat.

However, when there's no air conditioner, it means windows are open.

When windows are open it means mosquitos come in looking for snacks.

When they use my body for a meal, I'm up all night scratching.

Every available body part was eaten.

I was ready to tear my skin off last night.

Then, couple that with sweating and bug spray, and you have a sticky mess of dirt that beads and rolls on your skin as you scratch, making it look like you have miniature mouse shit all over your body.

Of course, the mosquitos are NOTHING compared to the ants that bite.

Seriously.  Way to harsh my mellow.

Thought I'd have some wine to help me sleep through the heat, and the ants thought it was a great idea as well!!!

In no time flat, I was flailing from being covered in ants who were biting my hands and arms, and those bitches hurt!!!!!

Then there's the itch that comes with the welts due to their chomping.  It's like the devil himself has crawled under my olive casing, adding salt and vinegar to the wounds.

When the ants nip me, I scratch until I bleed, leaving my derma with great gashes guaranteed to weep with pus later in the day.

These are the kinds of days I wish I didn't have to wear a bra.  A bra in the heat is pure hell.

It's not just the fact that it's tight up against my sweaty skin, but trying to get it on is like a game of twister.

It sticks to my shell before I can get it into place, then trying to adjust it once it's stuck is game of skill.

Forget about trying to get a sports bra on.  That will NEVER happen.  It will just roll along my skin, looking like the world's thinnest tube top.

It's the kind of day where you can shower away the sweat, but once you dry yourself from the shower, it's back in mere seconds.

It could be that I can't handle the heat because I had no sleep last night from the dogs' antics, and Papi up all night trying to get power back on.

That could be why I'm not enjoying this amazingly beautiful day.

Or, it's the fact that the heat has made it hard to sleep, leaving me a bitchy mess.

Today, I made my coffee extra strong.

Not to mention, I don't give a shit what I'm 'supposed to wear' as a white person to keep me safe from predators.

At this point, I'm wearing my fucking tank tops and cool, short, breezy skirts.

I'm bitchy enough that if anyone violates me today I won't have any problem telling them to fuck off.

Even if it's in English.  They'll know what the hell I mean by the nasty look on my face.

Maybe I'll pack my stun gun.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go scratch.

Indeed, it IS possible for ME to be TOO hot.

i sleep soundly and beautifully through the night

6 months

Tomorrow, we will have been here 6 months.

I knew my life would change, but I didn't know to what extent.

Who knew I could get used to microwaving my water for coffee when we've run out of gas?

This princess has never lived in the country.

I have learned to have a bath in a bowl when the electricity stops.

I have learned the importance of positivity in life when cruelty erupts from people I thought were friends, showing their true colours because they don't have to face us every day in our hometown.

My, how easy it is to lash out at someone via the internet!

I have learned that we lived like royalty in Vancouver, even though I'm grateful not to live with the cold &/or rain.

I do love the rain here, even yesterday, when it was pouring so hard that I looked like I'd taken a shower with my clothes on just running 20 feet to the car.

At least it's warm and it doesn't hurt my bitch of a back.

I have learned how to roast my own coffee, dry my own coconut, and make my own fruit juice by hand.

I've also learned that washing my clothes by hand rubs my skin raw.  I have learned there are some things I can't do.

I have witnessed how horribly government can treat their people, and every day, I ask my angels to allow everyone in the country access to healthy, clean water, health care and electricity.

Every day, I try to think of more ways I can help the village without going further into debt.

I am grateful that Papi researched the dangers and took measures to give us great deterrents for the violent thieves.

The violent thieves are not those that live with us in the village.  Well, other than The Guard who has been to jail.

The thieves come from other areas, hearing about someone who may be alone and/or have something they want.

A target, who has easy access to get into their home.

Our home is not easy access.

It doesn't mean we're exempt, as the greatest trick the thieves have is to poison the dogs and come back the next day while you're grieving to rob you.

However, scaling a wall may cause them to be seen and security cameras may cause them to be identified.

We have deterrents.

A woman in Cabrera was murdered this week.  She was stabbed and her throat slit.  Perhaps a crime of passion?  Perhaps not?

During the past week's shitstorm of nastiness, someone told me I was a bad person, assuming I have guns "... to keep out the poor."

No.  We have guns to defend ourselves from the violence that has risen 3x since our decision to be here.

Just because someone is poor, does NOT make them violent.  You hear me?

Some thieves come in a uniform, originally meant to portray, 'We're here to protect you'.

The police arrested 3 people for the murder this week, but did they take the opportunity to arrest anyone they had a grudge against?  Merely to give the facade that they have done their job?

I have learned it's possible to trust a doctor with my health here.

Mr. Lumpy is gone!  Just over 2 weeks of using his recommended vitamins and amino acids and Mr. Lumpy is 100% gone!

I wonder what chemical poisons they would have given me in Canada, so the doc would get one point closer to a golfing trip or cruise for prescribing them?

I have learned that I cannot live to please anybody, because I can't, and I'm the only one I have to please.

I have learned what culture shock means.

I have learned I am truly that strong person people have told me I am for the past few years.

I have learned the importance of love, even when it's only by way of texting, or a quick G+ chat with family.

I have learned some of the most generous people out there are those with the least to give.

Generosity has nothing to do with money.

It is honestly the spirit.

i am happy in my own skin and my own circumstances

we are happy

... your sunday sillies: crash!! ...

Oh, how I love the children in The Garage Band!

Word is starting to spread and more are coming to join us.

Initially, I didn't want to teach the teenagers, I wanted to keep it to the wee ones, but I'm sure glad I chose to include them.

It was so nice to work with them, and I think they really enjoyed themselves.

I now have to split everyone up into 3 groups, because different ages need different instruction.

For instance, the 2 tiniest of them all.

The lowest to the ground prances around without any pants.

It makes sense.

If his parents can't afford diapers, then it's best to just let him do what he needs to do without the obstruction of clothing.

His pants would be messy to clean all day long, considering this little guy is only about 2 years old and accidents are in abundance.

So, there he was, with his little willy waving about in the air.

I figured there would be piddle all over our carport, but he managed to keep it in.

He wasn't there to do music, so much as just there to be with all the big kids.

The second small-fry was pretty in her best dress.

Can I tell you what an honour it is to have parents dress their children in their best clothes for the lesson?!?!

I showed up stinky, in dirty clothes, as I only woke up in enough time to get coffee into my system and open the garage door to begin teaching.

Having children dressed in fancy threads made me feel their gratitude for lessons.

In turn, I had gratitude for the children merely showing up!

Anyway, this little doll in her Sunday Best was really too young to keep up with everyone, but she tried.

OH, how she tried

Whatever anyone else did, she would attempt to copy, and do it with immense zeal!

Her voice was voluminous!

Her clapping was colossal and packed a punch!

Nothing was in the right time, nor were there proper words, but her intent was so strong that I could feel the music just waiting to come out when it's time for her to truly understand all the emotion that brews within her.

It made me tingle.

Even the dogs in the hood came by to watch.

Upon smelling the mutts that were invading their space, our hounds were barking at them through the door of the garage.

No matter.  We all sang loud enough to overpower their cacophony.

Speaking of the neighbourhood dogs, today is our day to volunteer to give them all heart worm medicine.

We were going to do it a few weeks ago, but I got so busy and so tired.

We are armed with hotdogs to entice them, and candy for the children as we go along.

Papi wants to win their hearts with candy, because he feels I get all the love and he's a tad jealous as we drive down our bumpy road, listening to the chorus of 'Andréa! Andréa! Andréa!' bellowing through the village.

Hopefully, as we pass through, I'll find the shyest of The Garage Band and give him a little boost of a quick lesson so that he will feel more confident next round.

The underdog.

I always love the underdog.

I want to help him shine amongst the others.

If you're reading this and you'd like to help the children by sending percussive instruments, we would all be so grateful.

Shakers!  Wood blocks!  Anything you have that you just don't use would be MORE than appreciated if you can send it:

Andréa Hector-Brown 

10800 NW 103 St. 

Ste. 5E

Medley, Florida 

33178

United States

Right now, we just clap.

And we are happy.

i compare myself only to my highest self

haggard.

I have so much to talk about, but somehow, I don't remember what I was going to tell you.

I do remember one item; tomorrow is the first day teaching the village children's choir.

I better have songs for them to sing, don't'cha think?  I haven't even started to prepare!!!

I've been a 'tad' busy, between Mr. Lumpy, driving to Santo Domingo, volunteering with Dream Project and everything it takes to be prepared for the above.

I'm exhausted, the dishes are piling up and the dogs are being neglected.

We haven't had the Housemaid in for a week, because we haven't been around for her allotted time.

Today is the first day in almost a week that I get to blog with my coffee.

These days, it's about running out the door with travel mug in hand, and waking up on the go while that coffee gets into my system on the road.

Showering?  Ain't nobody got time for dat!

I'm sure the locals are having lots to talk about with the stinky tattooed gringa they gossip about.

I'm pretty happy that the accident occurred 45 minutes away from here.

People in Nagua don't know us and I don't have to bow my head in shame in my own area.

Somehow, I have to look presentable for the children's concert today.

Those little beans at Dream Project are going to perform for a jazz band today.

I look forward to seeing the jazz band, as well as seeing them play for the pros.

The MusicMan is well connected and I'm very happy I've been able to be his assistant for the past few weeks.

The day before, I realized my Spanish has so far to go.

Sometimes, when I'm so tired that I can't even be bothered to shower, I just don't have the energy to study, or for that matter, REMEMBER Spanish.

Yesterday, I had a tough time at the school, and I had a tough time in my Spanish lesson last night.

Thinking that hard is difficult with limited energy!

Well, I might as well tell you about my corn.

I planted some seeds along the wall at the very front of the yard against the wall.

I didn't realized they're like banana trees, in that they're typically like a weed.

You plant in one area, and they spread out.

I have corn popping up in various areas of the yard!

I was wondering why Dominican Daddy wasn't plucking them from the ground, until I realized that they look identical to the other ones I planted.

I hope corn looks pretty, because they're invading our yard and it seems that they'll be spread out in no time.

But I know it wasn't corn I wanted to talk to you about.

Here I am, almost done my blog, and I still don't know what it was I was going to tell you.  It couldn't have been that exciting or I would have remembered right?

Wrong.

My poor injured brain has selective memory when I'm tired or stressed.  I could forget the most important of items.

I'm sure I'll remember later, when I'm in the middle of trying to understand someone's Spanish shpeel and have no idea what they just said, because I was daydreaming about some event of days past.

It will be another moment of me cocking my head, raising an eyebrow with a pained face, saying, "Que?"  That's my go to now for everything.

I was so happy to be able to get up and blog with coffee, thinking it would be a lovely writing session today, then I just sat here staring out at the ocean, watching and listening to waves crash, stunned.

If it weren't for the coffee, eggs, toast and lime infused water I was stuffing down my yak, that bewildered gaze probably would have been accompanied by me drooling all over the dogs that jump on my lap the moment I sit down at this table to write.

Ever have a donkey on your lap?

The Donkey honestly believes she's little.

Anyway, maybe tomorrow will be a little more informative and I'll remember the news I was going to share.

Until then, all you get is puppies, corn and one haggard femme.

i feel good about myself and the lessons i learn from life

day 1 of my roots.

I am so grateful today.

I got one of the two jobs.  The piano teaching job.

My first student in the Dominican Republic.

Yup.

They got me for dirt cheap.

No matter.  It doesn't cost a lot to get food, as I ate the last of my vegetables yesterday.

I was so sad wondering where the hell we were going to get money for veggies!!!

This will cover my veggies!

It feels like I'm really starting my life here now.  I'm putting in roots.

The reason they needed a new piano teacher, was their piano teacher had died.

At first, the opportunist in me thought, "Damn your teacher died?  Does she need a replacement for all her other students?"

Until I heard the story.

She just moved here and was only here for a few months.

She bought a scooter to travel to and from the lessons.

She was killed on her first day riding the scooter.

Absolutely horrible.

I can't tell you what the story brought up for me for flashbacks of my motorcycle accident.

The fact that I'm replacing an angel who wasn't as lucky as me is almost too eery.

It is pretty typical for people to die here, or at least lose a limb, from motorcycle accidents.

I don't know if they keep stats on it, but I would venture to say it's in the top 5 of the world.

Papi and I can't go a day without seeing someone who's missing an arm or a leg here.

Not to mention, it's very rare to see someone wearing a helmet.

Unless of course it's raining.

Because that's what a helmet is for, right?

To keep out the rain.

Anyway, I'm on the verge of panic attacks here just writing about the insanity on two wheels in this country.

Actually if I'm being honest, I'm in the middle of a panic attack.

My poor lungs feel like there's a mattress on top of them.

Let's change the subject.

I made my first dehydrated coconut yesterday!!!  Success!!

Oh, it is sooooo sweet and needs a little more time in the heat.

But I have coconut for treats now.

I'm going to search for coconut recipes that I can make without coconut oil to begin with.

Once I get paid, I'm on an all out man hunt for cheesecloth so that I can make the oil.

I have the YouTube videos to show me.

But you think I can find cheesecloth in this damn country?!?!

Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!!!!

I don't know how people make coconut oil here without a cheesecloth, but the last time I asked SOMEONE to show me how to toast my coffee beans, they were destroyed.

Yes, the Housemaid destroyed my first batch of coffee beans because she thought she knew how to do it.

I learned the right way.  On YouTube.

But I need the damn cheesecloth so that I have the damn coconut oil for the damn treats!!!

I want my goddamn treats!!!!

There.  Panic attack averted.

Now I go get ready to meet my new student.

My first student.

I'm so grateful.

the more grateful i am, the more reasons i find to be grateful

someone pissed someone off

I have more gratitude today than most days.

Some of my readers bought me coffee.  Lots of coffee.

And we're not talking a gas station special, either.  I mean an organic, fair trade, extra large, triple shot soy latté, with extra whip and sprinkles on top.

Oh, AND a bag of beans to take home with me.

We now have enough coffee money to last us the 20 days we have to wait for more coffee money.  It's a good thing living here is inexpensive.

I know I sent personal thanks to everyone, but still, I want to say thank you again, because you have no idea how grateful I am.

Papi got upset with me, because he doesn't like when people ask for money, but I told him, "Look, I've been writing a blog a day, almost every day since 2010.  If I want to start asking for donations for the entertainment that is YOU & I, then so be it.  I'm not telling people to pay me to read my work.  I'm just saying if you like it, and feel so inclined, buy me a coffee."

Some people really like it.

Some people who can afford to, may want buy me a coffee to show it.

Others write nice comments or private emails expressing themselves with their own words, about my words.  Either way, I'm grateful.

Anyway, I shared my coffee money with Prince Papi so he could go buy his OJ.

Should've seen him prance off to the city our village is considered part of; Gaspar Hernández.  Now are you complaining about me earning a few donations from my daily writing Papi?

I was a little worried though.

The day we emptied our credit cards, I had tried to drive The Carpenter to get more supplies, only we were diverted when we saw a rather large gathering, police and TV cameras.

Upon reading more on the DR1 Forum, it looks like someone from Sosúa got murdered then dumped in Gaspar.  Normally, I equate Gaspar with Whalley in Surrey, but upon looking at the stats of crimes in Canada, it looks like I should be equating it to Prince George!!

Back to the recently departed.  He was not a local, he was an Italian expat.

I have the feeling he may have earned the beatings.  We were brave enough to look at the pictures after the fact.  This was definitely personal.

He wasn't in the drivers seat of his car when he was found, he was in the back, so it seems he was killed somewhere else and dropped in Gaspar.  You don't go pissing people off here.  It WILL cost you your life.

He was hanging out of his fancy SUV like one of the slack, dead geckos I find in the house periodically, only intensely bloodied.

I think with the extreme beating he took, they will have to use his car for identification.

There was also other woman recently, a French Canadian, who was treating her employee horribly.

Looks like he had enough and killed her too.

I'm happy to say that we treat our workers as best we can, not out of fear, but out of acknowledgement of their work.  We feed them when we have extra, I put my water machine outside so that they can have cold water while they work and we bend over backwards to make sure they know how much we appreciate all they do.

Even if it means I drag my lazy ass outside to fill up on my own water, I don't care, because they're happy.  It's so nice when they're happy.

Even the crankiest man has become my friend, and today, he made sure my ripe papaya was plucked before it died.

Most people will just put the jug of water out and let them fend for themselves, but I can't do it.  They deserve cold water.

Normally, when the money is flowing a little better, in the afternoon they get a treat; ice tea, juice, soda or beer.

So hopefully, we won't be getting beaten any time soon.

Especially now, because the village knows we're broke.  Word travels fast when people are broke, because there's no point asking for anything.

We have nothing to steal when we're out and about, short of some coffee money.

Anyway, showing you like my entertainment feels like a standing ovation, and that just feels grand.

It's good to know that when I give, sometimes, I receive.

The angels are working.

But I still need a job.

However, it will not be in Gaspar Hernández.

i pay my bills with love as i know abundance flows freely through me

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

i might have to bring out pissy face

I'm quickly grabbing my breakfast before the day starts, now that I don't feel like death anymore.

I was granted 2 days to rest while feeling horrid.  That means that today should be hell.  Putting things off just means more work later.

The Carpenter already told me we have to go shopping after my breakfast.

Or rather, in his words, "After coffee!"

True.  It's mostly about the coffee.

Yesterday, I was sick and wasn't moving much, and the house looked empty despite the dogs running around like the lunatics they are.

Yet, there were children SCREAMING my name outside the gate.  When they didn't get a reaction, because I was lying like a lump in bed, they even tried Papi.

"Andréa!!!!" and a two second break between trying my name again, then, "Hector!!" ad infinitum.  Then there would be quiet for 30 minutes, only to hear it all over again for 20 more minutes.

We had to hide in our bedroom, shutters closed, so dark that when my mother skyped, she asked me if it was already night time.

No mom, we're just in our prison tower, hiding.  Just call me Rapunzel.  Not short of the hair hanging out the window.  That usually gives me away too.  So the shutters were definitely locked closed.

When the time comes that I teach them choir in July, I will teach it on Saturday and drill it into their heads that Sunday, we are to have no visitors.

I'm even going to get a HUGE sheet of material and cover up the wooden slats so they can't just try to be passive aggressive about it and stare at us until we respond.

I will train them yet.

The signs didn't work, but there will be signs on Sunday anyway.

Signs.

A sheet.

Verbal instruction.

If the children don't get it by then, well, I'll have to send in the reinforcement.

Papi will have to put on his cranky pants and be angry with them enough to keep them away.

We moved here for peace and tranquility to heal from so much that has happened in our lives.

There hasn't been any for the almost 5 months we've been here.

When it comes to this problem, we would have been better off in a miserable gated community with stuck up bastards who came to this country, not to be with it's people, but just to use it.

At this point, I'd even weather out being with those snotty people who have nothing better to do than tell me how may dogs I'm allowed to have.

However, if I can train the kids that Sunday is off limits, Papi and I might have a fighting chance.

We might feel like we get to have ONE day a week where the time is just for us.

We deserve one day for fucks sakes, don't we?!?!

Or will this trigger a whole bunch of uber political in Vancouver to call me racist again.  I don't give a shit anymore.

I love these kids, regardless of their class or their colour, so everyone sitting behind their books and computers in their privacy of cushy Vancouver can fuck off before you open your mouths.

You've already ostracized me enough that you couldn't possibly do any worse, so I'm done with all of you.

The point is, I also love my alone time.

It would be the same in Canada.

I like to be alone.

I'm giving them 6 days a week at the Hector-Brown Amusement Park.

Even the locals get one day a week off.

Why not the expats too?

Are we not deserving of that?

I think we are.

They have a month to get it and then Pissy Face comes out.

i take pleasure in my own solitude

donkey. you dog me.

Oh, The Donkey.

So many antics from one canine being.

She's healing up fine from both being spayed, and her little abnormal thumbs being removed, but it was time for a check up anyway.

The vet had told us he'd never seen anything like her before.

That she was a drama queen after her surgery and wouldn't move.

Well, you should have seen the drama in returning for a check up.

There she was, enjoying herself on our drive to Sosúa to see Dr. Bob.

Head hanging out the window, sometimes, trying desperately to get her head out MY window, which was troublesome, as I was the one driving.

I drive illegally now without any care in the world, but that still doesn't mean I want to go killing anyone on the road because The Donkey has chosen MY window to drool out of.

However, when we turned onto the rocky road that leads to the vet, all sense of 'fun' went out the window.

Quite literally.

Suddenly, she whimpered, both paws were out the back seat window, followed by her mammoth body.

I then saw her roll a few times on the ground and I wasn't sure if maybe, perhaps, I'd driven over her legs!

Good thing we were at the right place for broken legs if the problem arose!

I stopped the car in drive with the emergency brake on, not really realizing it, and jumped out to chase her as she was galloping back home.

On the main street.

Where we see at least one dead dog a day now.

Or cat.

Or horse.

But there she was, "Goin' home!  Nope!  You can't make me go back there!"

Fortunately for me, she loves me enough that when I call, she can't resist the cuddles and she came back, I snapped that leash on and in we went to Dr. Bob.

When I told him of her buffoonery and that he should check her body out for troubles, his reaction was not what I expected, "I'm so offended!  Why wouldn't you want to see me?" he asked her.

I almost asked him if he was from the west coast of Canada and upper U.S., where people seem to be personally offended at the change in weather, never mind someone speaking openly and honestly about their feelings.

Oh, don't get me off track on that one.  I'll be here all day bitching.

Back to The Donkey.

Last night, I brought in some small stairs for Sir Bark-A-Lot and Jake-a-Like, so that they could get up to the bed with ease.

Actually, they made it easier for ME to get into the bed too.

Turns out, they also made it easier for The Donkey at 5 a.m., when she decided to go against the rule and hop on top as well.

Both Papi and I looked at what was happening, then merely shrugged our shoulders and went back to sleep.

Well, TRIED to go back to sleep.

Have you ever tried sleeping with a donkey in the bed?

Then I was supposed to drive Our Fave's Mom and the Little Angel to the doctor at 8 a.m.

Needless to say, I am quite tired and am going back to sleep, even though I've driven people around after having had my coffee.

This time, The Donkey is on the floor.

With the other cretins who are too big for the bed.

I've informed all the children in the neighbourhood that I will not be around, because I'm going to be sleeping.

Still, it probably won't stop them from yelling at my gate.

It's yet ANOTHER day of fiesta in this country, where we can't keep up with all the 'days off' everyone gets.

No school for the kids and they'll be coming the the Hector-Brown Amusement Park for sure.

My earplugs are firmly placed in both ears.

life is a joy filled with delightful surprises

i hide.

blogger still isn't being nice with uploads, so HERE is this week's youtube show.

I'm hiding.

There are no workers here today, they start the last of the renos tomorrow.

But this morning, the moment I let the dogs out, I saw Our Favourite at the gate just waiting to see me.

I do enjoy some time with the kids, but for chrissakes I haven't even had my coffee yet and the amusement park that is our house has kids lined up waiting for it to open.

No.

The sign doesn't work.

Words don't work.

I was told by the Jersey Girl that she has a crotchety husband who told the children to never come unless they've been asked to.

She has a heart like mine.

She can't do that.

But her husband can.

I know Papi couldn't do it either.

I'm looking at the clouds forming with their grey, ominous ambiance, the wind coming in with trees swaying their coconuts and am thinking, if it rains again it will mean another day of quiet.

When it rains kids don't even go to school, so they won't bother the gringos.

I entertained Our Favourite and his sister, and Our Unadopted Child yesterday.

We planted more veggies, we watered the garden, we made our homemade mini gardens out of juice cartons, we played with dogs and we babysat the Little Angel.

Today, I need space.

Today, I need quiet.

I never invited people over to my house all too often when I was in Canada, that's not going to change now, but it seems I'm forced to have company nonstop.

I suppose when people would tell me I was a closed off person, or that I didn't open up very much, they were right.

I do like solitude, but sometimes I want to be with friends, when I have good energy.  Not this 'hanging by a thread' energy.

When all the workers are gone and we have our space all to ourselves, the weekdays will be good because there is guaranteed times that the kids will be in school.

Only problem, is they only go for half a day, so there will be half of them at our gate in the morning and half of them in the afternoon.

I can hear the dogs barking at them.

I'm hiding.

I'm tired and I deserve to rest.

If it means I have to suffer by not looking out at the ocean or our pretty fruit trees, so be it.

It sometimes feels like we're prisoners in our house.

If we step foot out the door, we belong to the village, so in the house we stay.

And this house is not what we bargained for.  It's a lot of work.

So, here I hide, no coffee, no view, but no children.

I'm so tired.

Somehow, I have to accept the love of the children and be at peace with having them around 24-7.

I don't know how I'm going to do that.

So for now, I hide.

I think I'll go back to sleep.

i know that i deserve love and i accept it now

this is me trying

I didn't want to get out of bed.

Damn that bladder anyway!!!!

I tried to ignore it, but there was no option.

I actually had to rise.

Once I move, the dogs all know they get to relieve their bladders too and I become the rock star of the house with my mobs of groupies hounding at me.

I didn't want to get out of bed.

But I also promised Our Fave's Mom that I would drive her and the baby carriage we got her to her sister's as she stays there more now than here.

So, I would have had to eventually anyway.

I didn't want to get out of bed.

But the clonazepam had worn off and I was truly awake to think about the day.

In 2 days I get a biopsy.

My stomach is reeling.

My head is pounding.

I'm more tired than I ever was with anemia.

The moment I opened those doors to let out the tribe, the workers were there and The Carpenter needed me to go shopping for more wood with him.

Now, I have to go and face people, pretending like nothing is going on in my brain.

Like I'm not obsessing about Monday.

Like I'm not reliving the results yesterday that confirmed there was a lump on my lymph node in the upper right side of my breast, and that the doctor said it's a bad place for it to be, but not to worry.

Like I'm not freaking out, wondering if it will be the easy route out, a double mastectomy, or the hard route, chemo.

Like I'm not doing my best to just say, "Hey, it might not be anything and we won't know until the biopsy is done."

Silent hell.

Nobody needs to know of my silent hell.

It could be nothing, then I'd be spreading drama amongst everyone else around me.

I didn't want to get out of bed.

I wanted to lie alone and cry.

There's too much to do.

I'm up.

I'm here.

I'm about to drink my coffee and enjoy every sip of it.

No crying now.

Just have to try to look presentable to the people out in that world.

Yesterday's clothes are just fine.

That's the best they're getting out of me.

I'll put deodorant on, just to be nice.

Maybe I'll even brush my teeth.

Maybe I'll just live this day as best I can.

I didn't want to get out of bed.

But here I am.

 this day will come and go whether i participate or not.  i'll participate

it's all about learning.

I want to live as environmentally sound as possible, and one day we will have solar energy!  But for now, we do our best here.

I just don't know if I'm ever going to make that recycling plan I wanted to talk to government about, because the government here is just so corrupt.  I don't know that they'd ever listen to a city girl from Canada.

I also need to learn how to live off the land as much as possible.

I found a vendor who wants all my used glass containers.  I wash and save pasta sauce jars, etc., and give them to him to sell his wares!

Today, I am going to grind up my egg shells from my eggs I eat every morning.  I boiled and dried them overnight, and they are now baking.

I found a recipe online to make my own calcium from them.  This way, I can have calcium, not throw away my shells AND cut down on costs.

I also tried my hand at toasting my own fresh coffee beans I bought from our neighbouring city, which is scarier than taking a chance on a gay bash by holding your partner's hand in Whalley back home in Surrey.

I thought I needed a little practise on the coffee, but the way my body temperature has risen and I'm typing at the speed of a cockroach coming at me in the bathroom, I'd say that I did a good job!

I was taught how to do it on the first round, by the Housemaid, but she burnt them to a crisp.  I'm pretty sure she needs glasses.  No matter.  She has a Blackberry phone and fancy clothes instead.

Anyway, my coffee now tastes even more delicious with my cinnamon AND nutmeg.

Yeah, I started adding nutmeg from the advice of the local Dominican, Our Translator.

Am I boring you with coffee talk?

OK.

I'll talk about my garden.

I have so many things sprouting up, but being my first veggie garden, I can't tell what's a weed and what's food.

The weeds are even different here!  They actually look like little plants.

So, I'll have to wait until I actually see the real deal, then weed out the rest.

There will be many trials as I learn.  With my coffee, calcium and veggies and more I'm sure.

We just got taught how to actually sharpen our machete properly.

The Carpenter, who built our bed, our wall, our gargantuan fence and is now installing our roof, showed me.

We now have a machete so sharp, I'm afraid to use it!

Not to mention, the puppies are SO curious about it, I'm afraid they may lose a nose.

Oh, the coffee heat has worn off now, so excuse me while I go put a parka on.

Papi has his air conditioning going in the bedroom.  I'm fucking freezing in here.

Alas, we still don't have a functioning washing machine.  We need to find someone to buy it and we'll go buy one that isn't digital, according to Mr. Sincere.

He told us digital isn't going to work far, far out in the village here.  We need old fashion dials.  Another trial failed.

But we have trustworthy electricity again!

The problem was 45 minutes away, where their inverter died in the 4th biggest city here in the Dominican Republic.

I ALSO learned that I will be able to go play in the ocean starting at the end of May until September.  I was told the water is calmer and won't try to kill me, so I'll have some good ol' floating for my bitch of a back.

Learning.

So much.

Including the fact that the Housemaid took us YET again.

We need massive rocks, or shall I say gargantuan boulders, for the front of our property so we don't wash away, not to mention, we need it to support our wall that is built on sand.

The Housemaid told us we need to pay Mr. Extortion (aka: the 'marina'), but the Jersey Girl told me they're not the ones we pay.  It's the environmental agency.

So, she bamboozled us, yet again, stealing money that we had to borrow from our credit card.

Learning.

So much.

i trust myself to make the best and smartest decisions for me

Gratitude List, Day 6/10
1. I am grateful for electricity.
2. I am grateful for clean water.
3. I am grateful to learn every day.
4. I am grateful to feel loved.
5. I am grateful for friendship.
6. I am grateful for being brave and taking a chance, moving somewhere for my health.
7. I am grateful for the warmth to heal my injuries.
8. I am grateful for a roof that doesn't leak.
9. I am grateful for my teachers.
10. I am grateful to be feeling so much better emotionally.

no turtle please.

So, I tried a new morning routine.

Papi was upset that I start my day with my coffee and blog, because it seems that I don't get enough done around the house.

He doesn't like that my blog takes precedence in the morning.  Today, instead, here's how my 'good morning' went.

~I begin with poop picking up,
~Yard watering,
~Taking care of the plumber who's checking out our water that still seems dirty,
~Trying yet AGAIN to get that fucking washing machine working,
~Feeding the animals at the same time as trying to deal with my local salad vendor who came to the door to bring luscious organic veggies,
~Trying to explain to the guy who wants to buy our machine and comes to the house EVERY DAY that I don't want to sell,
~Dealing with the Housemaid who also tried to tell the guy who wants to buy our machine that we don't want to sell,
~Taking a 20 minute snack break with Our Unadopted Child who cooked me crab for lunch to go along with the papaya I plucked from the tree,
~Dealing with the car mechanic who is desperately trying to get more work done on the car, even though we keep saying less, because we've run out of money,
~Then I tried to get Papi up. 

It didn't work, and I just finished showering.

I've been so busy, and there has been so much trouble with water issues in the house that I haven't showered in days.

Along with dirty clothes because the washer doesn't work, I felt like I was going to morph into the newly laid sod.

So.  I got in the shower and then checked online to see when the bank is open.

Earlier on, Papi had grumbled in his half sleep as I was running around, "Can you check online to see when the bank is open, because if it closes early we'll have to ride the motorcycle in."

I informed him that I haven't even gotten out of my pajamas or eaten breakfast yet, because I haven't stopped running since 8 a.m. and that would be a 'no'.

When I finally got out of the shower and online to check if it was open, I was too late.  Of course it's too late.  We're very close to it being g*d's day, so people have to start drinking.  It's only 1:00, and everything is closing.

People back home just don't seem to get why it's so hard to get anything done here.  Nobody really understands that other than cleaning non-stop because it's so damn dirty here, you get to choose ONE thing a day to do and that's it.

I chose to wash my hair and very dirty body, and now we don't get to go to the bank.

However, if Papi just had've gotten his ass out of bed, then he could have gone, but my love likes to stay up until 4 a.m. and can't get up in the afternoon any earlier than around 2 or 3 p.m.  Then he tries to catch up on everything I couldn't do by myself.

I have clean hair though.  And everyone who's conscious has been fed.

I just know that my usual morning routine would have been much nicer.  A nice positive way to start the day with a coffee and blog.

Today my coffee was being drank while I watered the plants.  Not a bad way to wake up, but now, instead of trying to write about yesterday, I can't remember what happened, because too much time has passed today and the day already feels like it's 10 p.m. because I've done so much.

All I can do is review my day today, because the stress level shot up with my first breath.

Sorry, Papi.  My morning routine will stay as is, because people would probably have liked to have known what happened yesterday instead of the mania I had to deal with today.

Anyway, now I'll just wait patiently for the carpenter to come to make our bed, as his decrepit car broke down somewhere en route and now he's stuck.

Then I'll wait a little more for the street power to come back on so I can do some laundry.  Then I'll clean my dishes with water that is dirty again.

Maybe, just maybe I'll find a moment to relax and have those eggs I didn't get to have this morning.

And maybe Papi will get out of bed and I'll have an adult who speaks English to talk to, rather than Our Favourite who came to my door asking if I'd like to buy a pet turtle today.

Our Favourite was doing everything in his power to convince us that we need a pet turtle he was holding out toward me proudly.

I did everything I could to convince him that the dogs would eat it, considering they already ate a baby crab that was minding it's own business today.

He proceeded to tell me that all I needed was a home for the turtle and it would be fine.

I tried my best to explain that we have no more money and are living off credit cards.

He's a child.  He doesn't get what 'no money' means!!!!  He couldn't understand that this goddam Casa Paraíso needs so many repairs that we're financially finished.

No turtle please.

i accept myself completely as i am

Mission in mind.

No coffee in the world is going to wake me up today.

Last night we had a little problem with the garage door, and Papi and I went to work to fix it.  It meant lifting way more weight than either of us should have.

Hence, I had to embark on a Pain Med Party.

I'm doing much better today, as the heat really relaxes my damaged muscles, and they don't go into full spasm.

However, now I'm groggy and not really into accomplishing much today.

Still, I don't have that choice.  There are a few different workers coming.  One to build our bed frame, another to work on our car and a third to come fix our damn washing machine we've had for 3 weeks but haven't been able to wash any clothes with.

Yesterday at the PriceSmart in Santiago, they weren't willing to make the customer happy when I had 4 items that were not working properly, because I didn't have a receipt.

I told them that I KNOW it's in the computer, because that's where they checked when our washing machine we had just bought wasn't working.

The guy went on and on about how much time it's taking to look through the computers and how I'm taking all his precious time that could be used for something else.

I told him, "It makes up for the fact that I'm still waiting for your technicians to come and fix our washing machine.  My clothes are all dirty and I'm being patient, so maybe you can be patient with me?"

Things got much nicer after that.  We got everything I asked for and apparently, they're coming this morning.

We'll see if they get to see the crankiest, groggiest, gringo femme they've seen in their lives.

My eyes are half slit and I look about 100 years old.

Anyway, yesterday, we had a really good day getting things we needed and I'm only one step away from being able to make music again.

I just need a keyboard to talk to the computer and make music.  I may have to order online.  Here, they don't have anything that works with midi that I can find.

Hell.  It took me all this time to find a monitor with the correct hookups for my computer.  Everything is old school and about 40 years behind.  But I found the monitor.

I also finally found the synagogue!!

But dammit if they didn't have services, nor did they even have a rabbi.

I emailed Rabbi Laura about the possibility of having someone give me my jew lessons from afar.  She said she had info and would send it.

Papi asks me why I need this, and honestly, I don't have a good answer for it, other than the pride I feel for knowing that my great grandparents escaped the holocaust and I feel the need to redeem my heritage for the sake of all the years it's gone without recognition, as my family kept our heritage a secret.

I suppose I'll have to work extra hard at it, being alone without much instruction.

We all know how I feel about the g*d issue, however, having learned that we really aren't supposed to say g*d's name, it pleases me.

Besides, I'm free to talk to my angels and my Great Grandmother as my spiritual guides.

Oh!  I met the woman who gave me the baby shower invite!!!

She's very shy and I couldn't tell if she was just too shy to talk to me, or didn't understand a word I was saying, but she really didn't say much at all, but she seemed sweet non-the-less.

All I could really do was tell her I would be there, smile the biggest smile of thank you and left, because the silence was way too awkward.

Papi said she's probably not used to gringos being nice and didn't know what to say.

No doubt.  Sometimes, white assholes treat the people awful here.  I want to smack them upside the head.

But I get similar treatment from people who don't like that my Spanish isn't good enough for them.

There's one guy in particular at the hardware store who does that thing people do when someone doesn't understand the language enough.

He yells the words really loud, aggressively and slowly at me, invading the space in my face.

All I do is laugh at him and tell him I'm practicing and will get better, then tell him that people here speak Spanish fast, but he's the fastest one out there, so it's hard for me.

He doesn't care.  He just can't stand helping me, yet he's the guy I always need to talk to.

I'll win his heart over.  You watch.

I now have a new mission.

i make powerful and enjoyable business relationships and many of my business contacts are now my friends