Word of the Papi.

Things are starting to look up in the health area of our home.

Yeah, just in time to enjoy it while running around doing the G'ma's bidding.

At least we're feeling better enough to handle the summons of the old bird.

We're starting to eat real food now.  Perhaps the chicken pakoras last night weren't the right idea, but hey, they tasted so much better than crackers.

So, as I was making veggies to attempt another round of, "Please, please, please my dearest stomach!  I've been so good to you for so many years.  How about we allow a little chard in that empty hole?" I asked my love if he would like to have a few greens in his healing tummy too.

I got the face of squint.

I asked again, in more or less of a rhetorical question, and managed to get him to allow a 'few' on his organic brown rice.

Of course, this will be chased with Dr. Pepper, but at least there's an attempt.

So, I filled my bowl and drizzled with some lovely tahini sauce, I asked my love if he would like anything at all on his bowl of rice.

"Sweety, do you want anything on your veggies?"

"Honey no!!  No vegetable weird shit!"

Word of the Papi.

No vegetable weird shit.

These are the times that I realize he's feeling much better.

That and harassing the old fart upstairs.

She has been quite adamant that she will not allow my love any freedom to be who he needs to be.  We've been hearing about it while she gave us a breather being in Alberta.

"I refuse to call her a man!"

Our sweet aunt said, "Well, you're going to look pretty silly when he has a beard and you refer to him as a woman."

I was told that one had her thinking for a moment.

The cranky ol' thing started in on Papi pretty quickly.  No less than 24 hours into the return and I heard, "You look like you have a moustache."

"That's because I do."

"Well I don't like it.  Please get rid of it."

"There's going to be more to come, so you might as well get used to it."

Oh, but wait, this was also done topless so that the G'ma had to face the facts about the top surgery.

There's just no point in sugar coating it anymore.

The old poop is going to hate everything about anything regardless of what it is anyway, and she's going to be nasty about it on top of that.

So, as I sat downstairs waiting for the conversation to turn into either a religious debate or a homophobic/transphobic slamming of my love, I was pleasantly surprised.

The G'ma gave in.

It was a most shocking moment.

This could be the beginning of a calm household, right?

Or perhaps the old coot is just warming up.

I bet on the latter.

i am glowing with health and wellness

I'm now straight.

What a day yesterday!

I started out with my physio who is more like a Master in an S&M role play.

I managed to squeak past him without much notice and head straight for my strengthening regime.

I then ran around and got goodies for an awesome family visit last night.

My baby sister and her family joined Papi and I at my aunt's house with my cousins.

It was a riot!

There were 2 very exciting parts of our visit that were out of the norm and a gay ol' time!

One of my sweet cousins is now a full fledged hair stylist and was eyeing my hair up all night.

You could see the shears in her mind just waiting for the opportunity to start clipping.

My hair does have this affect on hair dressers.  The scary part is with the bad Honky 'Fro hair cuts I've had, I won't go to new hairdressers for fear of leaving the salon looking like Roseanne Roseannadanna.

I won't go into stories about that or I'll be here all day and I won't get to the Papi part of this blob/blab.

yes ... it's alllll about my hair ...

However, she did ask if I've ever had it straightened, and because I hadn't, she decided to show me what it looks like.

I will do my best to get pics for you for tomorrow.  I need to have the full femme face on to really let you see the glory, and that's not going to happen until I've finished my coffee and done some work on my film score.

Never in my life has a comb gone through my hair without losing a few teeth.

It was pretty cool!

Now for the intersting moment.

Like I had told you, my nephew is going through puberty.  Well, Papi, and this now taller than me nephew, were having a great ol' time all alone in the 'man zone' chatting about electronics and boy stuff, while all 7 of us girls got to the make-over part of the evening.

When my love came out around the corner to ask the legitimate teacher in the house for some help with my nephew's homework, ...

... yes ... you heard right ... another story ...

... the two of them standing there like nothin' else I'd ever seen, I'll tell ya.

There they were.

Matching caterpillar moustaches, to go hand in hand with the matching 'Fox' sweatshirts.

The two of them were the epitome of awkward teen-ness.  I mean really!  Papi even has Brace Face to drive the effect back to home plate!

Now, when I call Papi a manchild, it's going to have a whole new meaning for me.

That was when it dawned on me.

My love had told that the transition takes a few years.

I didn't understand why, but I get it now.

My love truly is a teen with peach fuzz, and it will take a few years to get through the teen-ness and into adult manly-ness.

i'm having a few issues at this moment thinking of the scary man ogre i thought about a year ago ...

A teen?

Seriously?

I'm truly living with a man-child.

Fucking hell.

Save me.

Say Uncle!!

Sometimes I like to harass my Tranny Terrorist in return for his antics.

Things have been very quiet on the Tranny Terrorist front lately.  It's hard to get in any kind of trouble from your La-Z-Boy while healing from a hysterectomy.

"Here try it!" I said.  I wanted my love to try my sugar-free coconut water, because I thought it would taste like a Pina Colada.  "I put it in my protein shake and it tastes awesome!"

I'll try anything to get my love to eat properly and find treats in healthy foods.

Well, Papi tried my shake, and for a moment I thought it was a hit.  However, aftertaste kicked in and the face of "OMG that's awful!!" was fully animated and I had my very own giggle-fest.

Papi asked me, "Did you do that on purpose because of the piano thing I did to you?" 

i would never do something like that Papi ... hehehe ...

Honestly though, it was a little bit of payback for the trick my Tranny Terrorist tried to play on me.

You see, my love almost put his protein shake on my piano.

Well, you don't put anything moist on my piano and live to tell the story.

ask the guy i once slammed against the wall who pissed himself in fear ...

I jumped at mi esposo bearing fangs and claws sharper than a cheetah, "Fuck no!!!!!!"  I growled.

That's when I saw the twinkle in Papi's eyes, followed by, "I knew I'd get a reaction, but I didn't think it would be so fast!"

Yes Papi, you got me, but I got you to swallow healthy food.

I think I win.

Eh?

Papi is starting to feel better and is getting his Tranny Terrorist mojo back, and I appreciate it, because I am going to need my distraction from that dastardly time we call x-mas.

I didn't think we'd be doing anything, but we will be going to my baby sister's house for brunch, then dinner with Papi's aunts.  Our day will be full of family.

When I spoke to my baby sister about the x-mas plans, she had such a sweet story to tell me.  She had told my niece about mi esposo and the male transformation.

The reaction from my niece was probably the most amazing comeback I could ever imagine.

"Really?"  She asked excitedly, "That's soooo cool!!!  Now I get to have an uncle!"

Yes, I suppose you do.

Then there was the talk about my love's caterpillar moustache and my sis had this to say:  "Oh that's perfect!  Because your nephew has the same thing, so they can go through puberty together."

While my love and I waded through the frenzied shoppers trying to get their deals, we spoke about how lucky we are that we have family members who love and accept us for who we are, who we love, and allow us to be who we wish to be.

It was a beautiful day.

Music, love and a movie with my 'rough around the edges friends' called, 'Tomboy', that I really recommend you see if you can find it.

Oh, and a wheat free power cookie.

That was the topper.

Ok, so Papi didn't die ...

I think the most entertaining part about the day was that I ate all my food before 3:00.

I eat when I get stressed.  I ate my snack, lunch, dinner and desert all by 3:00.

While we were out in bum-fuck-nowhere, Papi kept asking me, "Are you ok?  Are you scared?  Did you take too much Crack Butter?"

no my love, i did not take enough crack butter ...

I didn't want to tell my love I was nervous, so I had to lie.  "No, I'm fine!" I said as convincing as I possibly could, channeling my inner, perky optimist.

Of course, I was then greeted by, "Good!  'Cuz if you said you were scared, then I'd be nervous!" 

yes, my love ... i do know that ...

The greatest Tranny Terrorist moment of the day award goes to Papi for the last words I heard him say before leaving my side for the surgery, "Oh!  You better kiss me in case I die!"

No, it wasn't a sweet nothing in my ear.  He said it to the WHOLE room.

People chuckled and I shook my head uttering threats, "I will kill you if you die."

Of course this was just a few minutes after I had a near thermo-nuclear melt down with the control freak nurse who must have been a cat in a former life.

"Who moved my cat toy?!?  Why is that door closed!?!  Don't you know I like to be fed here and not there anymore?!  Capiche!?!"

Ok.

She wasn't freaking about cat toys, but she certainly didn't like that I had our knapsacks and personal items were on a wheelchair in her space.

The sweet intake nurse knew my back pain, and he, with his magical moustache, ...

... no seriously ... you have to see this thing to believe it!!! ...

... suggested I use the wheelchair to push my stuff along, rather than try to walk two feet and stop to say, "Ok.  Which way to emergency?  I've put my back out again."

Control Freak Nurse just couldn't handle this foreign article in the nurses' area.  When she realized that I just may cause a stink, she decided to let it go.

Which was a good choice, because that's when I finally gave in to my inner bitch and the rolling of eyes, death stare and deep breathing were activated.

I have to admit though, I was feeling rather edgy when I didn't get to see Papi right away.  Why do they do this to me all the time?!  It's worse than security at an airport sometimes!

I was expecting them to kick me out the room I because Papi wasn't there yet.  You see, after all the coocoos found me at the hospital, I managed to secretly find out what room Papi would be in and flew in there with my knapsack and bag wheelchair home.

I set up camp with my 'house' and when they came in, I said, "So, this is our room right?"

listen ... do you see me eating?  I'm married to the patient ... my room ... 

They kinda just looked at me ready to tell me I had to leave, then changed their minds, because they were sweet, lovely people.

So, I ate the rest of my food.

I then proceeded to listen to Papi snore for the rest of the day.

My love is doing fine and is all kinds of fun to laugh at.

Oh, the droopy face was awesome.

The only problem is that I don't like to leave Papi there.

So, Papi didn't die.

Now I don't have to kill him.

I get to bring him home in just a few short hours.

Just a Moment

Successfully accomplished fuck all yesterday.

Today I may be manic trying to catch up, but before I do that, I need to regroup and have a chat with 'you', my imaginary friend.

I always feel better after we've spoken.

or perhaps it's the fact that 'you' come along with a cup of coffee ... hmmmm ...

I'm feeling extremely overwhelmed with all I have to achieve over the next few weeks.

I had a really nice talk with bandmate/producer Lin Gardiner the other day.  It was about energy.  It was about how little I have since the brain injury, and how I'll be joining with BlueLight as my primary and HECTOR as a secondary.

I do 99% of everything on my own for HECTOR and sometimes, just trying to get my drummer out to a sound check on the gig day is even work.

With BlueLight, I have the hardest working, most professional person I could ever ask for in a duo.

Pre-brain injury, I could take on the world.  I would say 'yes' to everything, do it all myself, and somehow swing it with my superman boots and cape affixed.

Now?

It's all about one thing at a time.  I no longer have the drive.

or the organizational skills ... where the fuck did i put my organizational skills?!?!?!?

It's almost like I now live the meaning of being in the moment.  If I look too far ahead, I get anxious and freeze to the point of not doing anything.

seriously ... where did andréa go?

Other people with brain injury have spoken about their super powers that they've acquired.

Not me.

I just got lazy.

It also carries over into every aspect of my life, including this male transformation.

The future terrifies me.  If I stay right here, right now, I can handle so much more.

Yes.

My love now has a flat chest.

Yes.

I see a caterpillar above the lips I kiss.

Yes.

Papi is getting helium voice.

this one is the current 'oh gawd help me i can't take it'.

Yes.

I'm still in love with Papi.

However, while I was on the phone with a panicked conversation about the car, I let a 'she' slip out in reference to Papi.  Boy did I get the death stare.

Then on Facebook, I saw my love do what I didn't want to ever see.

Mi esposo has openly asked every person on my love's friends list to refer to Papi as 'he'.

It really is hard with a new pronoun, especially when I still see Papi as my butch.  I don't see a man.  I don't know that I ever will, because Papi is my Papi.

Today.

Right now.

Papi is still my butch.

If I look to the future of the 'man' my love wishes to be ...

i'll freak the fuck right out

... I'll get anxious and see things I just shouldn't be seeing.

This is my fear:

 

 This is my butch:

 

I'll just stay right here in the moment thank you very much.

Hello my name is Andréa, and I'm a Tranny Lover.