Andy and I called Fran. We didn’t talk too long and we’re gonna split the bill. Most of what Fran had to say was bullshit as usual anyway.

On the 11th or 12th, Velma trimmed my hair. Personally, I think Ellie did a better job. Ellie brought it from 1” below my waist to the waist. Velma’s brought it from 1” below the waist to 1-2 inches below the middle of my back. This really pisses me off. The weird thing about it, though, I saw the hair on the floor and it really did look like 2”. So, why does it now look considerably shorter? When Ellie trimmed it, no one could tell. But with Velma’s, it is noticeable. My hair was almost to my waist when I moved to Dfld. I have been so stalled and set back. My hair should be to my ass now. Not the same length as April of 1991. I know my hair is still in shock and everyone’s does that when it’s cut. I know it grows very fast and will be right back to where it was in 3 weeks to a month, but I’m not cutting it for a year.

Later...

Now that the days are not so hot, I wanna get on a day schedule for a while so I can go tan without getting sun poisoning. I’m losing my tan. In the daytime, it’s in the 90s. At night it gets to the low 70s/high 60s and it’s slightly chilly. Can you imagine that? It’s cuz there’s no humidity. 70º back east is warm. It hasn’t rained for nearly 2 months here. Back east it’s damp, dreary and rainy half the time.

My hair is definitely coming out of shock now, but I won’t cut it again till December of ‘93 or January of ‘94. The year I “thought” I was supposed to get my foot in the door musically.

A zillion other things happened that I swore never would or could, so now that I’m in total doubt about singing, will it happen? Yeah, right! I never thought I’d get to Phoenix, have sex with a girl looking like Ann Marie and so many other things. I never thought I could draw or be psychic. But a singing career is the ultimate dream. And quitting smoking. Never having the ultimate sexual attraction is easier to live without. Plus, even if I got it, it’d never be as good as it is in my fantasies.

I have mixed emotions about quitting smoking. A part of me says to continue smoking and die a slow, young painful death. Another part says quit and live with always dying to smoke and get fat so I can breathe, save money, get off medication and be able to sing without coughing up phlegm.

Remember how I used to stick to writing love stories with all my characters? I’d always lose patience, but it’s been a while. Maybe I should try again. I’ll do it in a notebook first, see how long it runs, then copy it into a journal whether or not I see it through. I’m gonna write more convos from tapes, too. I know I never finished that one with Fran telling the crisis center in Northampton how he planned to jump off of the Northampton high school roof.

Fran gave me Bobbie’s address and I’ll send her a wacky letter along with some hair. It’d sure be nice to know Tracy’s address and phone if she even has one. Fran keeps on insisting that Tracy is in jail, but the truth is 50/50 with him. Is it a lie or true, who knows? But, I can easily picture someone like Tracy in jail. She’s a con artist and a thief, so you never really do know.

Later...

Andy told me that if I didn’t hear him up at 6:45 to slam my closet door and I did. He called out thanks from his bedroom window. It’s neat, though, to be able to do this. We always wanted to live together, yet separate. It’s like we’re roommates, but we have our own private territory.

Well, I’m timing how long it’ll take to read each journal from 1-30. So far, it took 1 hour and 20 minutes to read #1. Two hours and 35 minutes for #2 which I’m still not quite done with. Almost.

Right when I moved I left a couple of goofy messages on Robert’s machine. One night Andy and I called Robert at 2 AM and began saying our weird shit on his machine. Eventually, he picked up and said, “Jodi, you better stop doing this. I got your voice on tape. I don’t know what your little problem is. You’re a tramp.”

I said, “I told you we were very weird.”

He said, “Yeah, you are.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” I asked.

He said, “You’ll see, but it’s 2:00 in the morning.”

Funny how 2:00 in the morning is too early to wake someone up, but 4:00 isn’t.

Also funny how a girl who’s only had two one-nighters in a year and a half can be a tramp. He just said this cuz he wanted my body. He also changed his number.

Shit! Here goes those fucking obnoxious lawnmowers.

My neighbors are nice. I’ve seen Andi and her best friend Gretchen, but 95% of the time she’s not home. Andi and Gretchen are so pitifully ugly and I think they’re both gay for sure.

Mary, the girl below her and next to Jeff is very nice. She can’t walk too well cuz she’s got CP, but her speech is fine. Not like Melissa, Fran’s friend. She’s sort of pretty and in good shape for being 30 years old. She gave me her number and I gave her and Andy mine. They both say Jeff is a very nice guy. I guess I believe that cuz he hasn’t bothered me or tried to talk to me.

I got a package from my parents with paper towels, Kleenex, toilet paper, a really nice cream-colored shag rug for the bathroom, a nice shirt, and a nightgown. Also, some liquid dishwashing soap, but I told them not to send any unless it’s for dishwashers.

Am I ever gonna get the rest of my pictures?