yes, i'm still alive.

We had no internet, and no internet means no blog.

Now, we're slowly getting back on track.

And now that we're gradually getting back on track, I need to tell the world how hard a worker my love is.

Other than when one friend who helped us for part of a day, with the really awkward, heavy stuff, Papi did the whole move on his own.

Seriously.

I tried to carry a few light things, but my bitch of a back wouldn't let me do the stairs with even the small stuff.

So, my love had to do it all, and do it all he did.

It really looked like we had nothing when we were in that big house, but now that we've taken that 'nothing' into 454 sq. ft. of animals, it's another story.

It's shown me that even more has to go.

If Papi has to be the one to move all my stuff, I'm going to get it as whittled as possible.

Our Closet is small, but so, so sweet.  I suppose because it's ours.

Once mi esposo and I get past the worst of settling in, we can enjoy ourselves.  Papi's not liking this whole game so far.

And the animals?

They're all on Rescue Remedy.

Oddly enough, we finally found something that works.

Everyone is calm and there hasn't been one fight.

Even Sir Bark-A-Lot only had one flip out.

However, Papi and I weren't so calm up until this point.

The humans were having issues that Rescue Remedy couldn't touch.

The last time I moved somewhere, which happened to be 4 months before the motorcycle accident, I could just about anything.

I was such a pack rat, and hence I had a lot of stuff.

A lot.

Well, back then, my love and I moved them, with only our two able bodies.

I was able enough to help huff our canoe up on top of the truck.

It's hard for a work-a-holic to not work sometimes.

I'm learning though.  Everything in moderation, including walking up stairs and whining.

Oh!

Papi had a finger cut emergency and had to use his Band-Aids.  What I found was, most of those boxes were pretty much empty.

Still, they were important enough to mi esposo, that he had them unpacked 1st.

Good thing!  You never know when you'll use them!

Well, now Papi can say he's moved like the rest of us.

Poor Papi.

He's exhausted.

I have the hardest working husband on the planet.

This has been a whirlwind of 5 days.

i learn from my mistakes

HOARDER!!!!!!!

There were people emailing, texting, phoning and the frenzy was beyond that on our selling page.

We thought we'd put things up and see if they sold.

Oh, they sold.

We couldn't keep up!

At one point, there seemed like there might be a bidding war, because of the need for a few items.

My love didn't expect it at all.

I've tried to tell him how garage sales are a really good thing and that if done correctly, you can get a lot of cash.

Papi said, "No garage sales!  Too much work!"

Really?  And that wasn't work last night?

Christ on a stick!

My bitch of a back started nipping at me at 6:30 a.m. from all the stress of trying to keep up!

The Great DR Purge is quite successful so far, but it also means that we won't be needing the Garage Sale Gala.

Through all of this, I've realized that I'm a full fledged hoarder.  I've just been keeping it in check all this time.

It's been a job keeping it under control, but I've managed to have it down to people only saying, "Wow you have a lot of stuff to move!"

All my golden items mean so much to me.  My love just wanted to drop them off at the 2nd hand stores around town, but when you're a hoarder, that just won't do.

No, we pack rats have to find specific homes for things.

Our belongings that mean so much to us collectors, that need to be somewhere we know they'll be loved.

As I put my items into little piles, I cringe when mi esposo comes to see what they are.

I feel the need to hide them!  Save them!!!  They're special!!!!!!!

They're going.

It really doesn't matter where they go to in the big scheme of things, but to put the hoarding mind at ease, I have to feel that my items are being loved.

Sounds familiar.

Being loved.

I suppose that's what hoarding is all about, isn't it?

We hang on to things to fill us up, because we feel too much loss in our lives.

I suppose it's a way to feel we have control over our lives.

If we can control our 'things', then we aren't out of control ourselves.

Right?

Nope, not even close.

Even having all my 'things' around me for all these years, I haven't had control over my life.

There is nothing we can do to sway our circumstantial fate.

Hanging on to items only pisses your friends off when you have to move.

It also makes for a hard time asking for help.

Once somebody has moved us, they never volunteer again.  Oh, they've done their time alright.

More than done their time.

So, this is my apology to all those out there who have heaved all my stuff for so many years.

My next move will be pretty damn easy, but unfortunately, you can't come help us in to our new abode.

That's just not going to happen, even though it would be super fantabulous!

Alas, it's just Papi, the Fuzzy Family and little ol' hoarding me, only lighter.

i always receive more than what i need

My hillbilly

I've had a great couple of days poking fun at Papi.

The Brace Face is epic, and now yesterday, my love had a front tooth extracted.  Now mi esposo looks like a rich hillbilly.

My love had a really hard time with all the bleeding and pain yesterday.  Papi always says, "I wouldn't have been able to go through what you did," in terms of my motorcycle accident pain and dealing with the brain injury.

I still say it's all relative.  Whatever pain you have right now is the worst pain ever.  Really.  Think about it.  When you get a paper cut, isn't it fucking awful?

Well, drooling and writhing in pain from a back and neck injury is terrible, yes, but now that the worst is over for me, my version of level 7 & 8 pain is much different.  I had it just the other day.  The searing affliction of a jolt to my already fragile back was enough to almost make me upchuck.

I know it was definitely not as bad as what I went through right after the accident.

So really.

It's all relative.

However, now it's my turn to have the fun poked at me.  At 9:15 a.m. today, i'll have braces as well.  I don't need a front tooth extracted, but in 9 months I'll have nasty jaw surgery and both upper wisdom teeth removed.

Oh I remember the suffering of the lower wisdom teeth removal.  Tooth pain is brutal!!

I have big plans on the 'ToDo' list, and Papi says, "Yeah, good luck with that, you're not going to feel like doing anything!"

My 'ToDo' list may be diminished to the Great Sewage Flood purge.

I haven't found my clothes yet.  Can you believe it?  Papi has everything and it seems that every box we open is another full of my love's t-shirts.  We've already gotten rid of 3 boxes full of mi esposo's cotton gems ...

now who's the hoarder?!?!

... but they just keep coming!

And I haven't found one pair of jeans.

Got my yoga mat though!  And the sleeps on our beautiful king size bed have been luscious.

This hoarder is slowly letting go of 'stuff'.  You want to know the funniest thing I've collected for the past couple of years?

Twist Ties.

Every time I get a new, fresh, deep green bouquet of black kale et al, I take the twist tie off and cut it in half, then put it into a little pencil box.

The box is so full that it can barely close.

I'm really not even sure what I'm gathering them for.

but wait!!! you'll never know when you need them!!!!!

Can't see them coming in handy for the Apocalypse the zealots go on about.

I listed them on 'FreeCycle' because I thought SOMEONE would want this amazing treasure, but noooooooooo.

Nobody wants them.

Alas, they're in the trash.

tranny lover

Ok.  So I'm a pack rat.

More technically, a hoarder, but I don't allow my gems to take over my life, and really it's my grandparents fault.

Having a partying kind of single mother, I'd be shipped off to stay with the grandparents most weekends.  I learned from them that you never get rid of anything!

you never know when you might need it

So, this experience of a sewage flood, resulting in our belongings taken away, has really opened my eyes as to what I 'need' vs. 'want'.

i swear one day i'll make it to minimalism!!!!

I've gotten rid of 3 full boxes so far and it's feeling good.  Besides, we have to get rid of everything when we move to the Dominican Republic.  Can't really travel with my dear 100+ year old, upright grand, Heintzman piano.

i'm already grieving our goodbye

I'll tell ya though, today when it was time to leave my part time, return to work shift, I was not looking forward to coming home to the boxes.

they loom in hallways and nooks, calling out to me, "don't bother opening me! just toss me away!"

I hung around work as long as I could and filled out forms.  Not something people would want to do when their shift is done, but it was definitely easier than coming home to the hoarder who can't decide what to toss and what to keep.

One of the forms was to ask for a leave so that I could help Papi with the after care of the top surgery.  I feel so guilty asking!  I was off for 2 years post motorcycle accident, then tried to go back, re-injured myself and was off for another 4.5 months.

As soon as I'm back full time, I go for my holiday.  Then I come back for half a week and want to leave for 6 days to help my love.

I really feel like I'm being a bad person milking the system, but damn!  I've never asked for time off to help with a spouse.

Then the moment I was afraid of happened.

I was asked why I needed the time.

"My spouse is getting surgery and won't be able to lift arms, and there has to be someone there to drain the fluids.  It's not here in Vancouver, so I have to travel."

"Oh really?  Where?"

"Florida."

guilt settling more and more ... i'm not taking an extended holiday ... no ... not a holiday trust me!  every inch of me still carries that evil catholic guilt, even though i'm a non-believer ...

"Florida?!?!?!  Why the hell do you have to go there?"

I told her.  Her jaw dropped.  I don't think she wanted to know much more, but you could see her mind ticking, thinking as to why a 'woman' would want their breasts removed.

She thought it was from cancer.  I felt like just letting her think that, but the reality is, everyone at work would know about it in seconds.

I wonder what's worse; having false sympathy that I'd have to keep lying about to cover my tracks, or living with the sideways looks from people at work when they find out what's going on in my life?

Obviously, I told her the truth in not so many words.  I'm just no good at lying.

But damn.

I just start handling all this and now it's like a mud slide, taking all parts of my life with me.  Trees, homes, cars, all of it being washed down the hill.

All my friends don't even know.  Some of my family members don't either.  But now work will.  Everyone is going to figure it out eventually, so I might as well get it out in the open.

**sigh** c'mon Andréa ... make your entrance out of the closet you Tranny Lover ...