Well, someone’s either restless or jerking off. I heard the bed slam against the wall a few times.

Got some great news today in the mail. They finally read my pap smear and it’s clear! No cancer!

I saw another commercial on TV for a different 70s CD, but even though I used a different name, they’re not stupid. Chances are close to zero of it arriving.

I got my parents' package today. There was a too-big and not-too-impressive sweatshirt, but a perfect-fitting and impressive skirt. The skirt is of denim with chiffon at the end in shades of brown with a matching chiffon belt. I got an address book and hair clips. I got seashells and flowers in shades of pink that hang on the wall and a fancy face mask too. The mask was egg white and the eyes are lined in green glitter. The lips are of red glitter. One eye forms into the shape of a swan. Not the eye itself, but the green glitter. Then, across the face are shades of yellow and brown glitter. The face has pearls around it and around that is white and gold lace. At one side of the face is a red satin flowery bow with a yellow ribbon. Then there are two small feathers. One in pink and one in purple.

Andy called Stevie’s house earlier. I spoke to a woman whose voice he said he didn’t recognize. I said I was Lisa Salero and wanted advice on an album I’m making. She told me to call back tomorrow saying she had out-of-state company.

Later...

Yup. So far Tom’s at his game of you know what and I’m almost certain he won’t want to screw today. How do I feel about it? Well, I’ve actually got my mind more on the shopping we’re gonna be doing in 1½ hours from now.

I was right, though. He had to have read Journal 100. Otherwise, there’d have been no way he’d have touched me last month when he was supposed to “think” I was mid-cycle. He knows I really am mid-cycle today.

I also figured out why he’s so obsessed with putting stuff back in different positions. I wonder what took me so long to figure it out, too. I already figured out why he wants me to either wait for him to do certain things or to see that he’ll never do them. That’s to get me used to not getting things.

Like I’m not already?

The reason, or the message, I should say, that’s behind his moving shit around is that you can’t always have things your way. In other words, you can’t have a kid.

Again - as if I didn’t already know!

I’m surprised this trip means a lot to him in May cuz it’s an excuse to not do things, but I’m also surprised, too. Usually, people don’t really care so much about people’s families, but he is really psyched up about meeting them. He gives off a sense about it, rather than saying so. The only thing about it is that I can see in him something very familiar. He’s gonna kiss their asses. No matter how mean or nice they were to me. What is it with people siding with and reacting this way around my family? And how did my family come to obtain such power and persuasion over those I know?

No mail from Bob, so he’s probably busy fantasizing about Kim. How can anyone lust for her as he does? She’s got the same lousy shape I do; only it’s a bigger and more exaggerated version of it. Also, her face is so plain; almost ugly, and her hair’s gross. Nothing but short, kinky and frizzy.

Later...

Got two new spiral journals today which will probably be used for my story. We looked in a paper supply store for stuff to make journals, but we didn’t find what we wanted. I also got two canvases and my brush cleaner. It’s something different than Turpenoid, though, and it stinks.

I didn’t mention yet how Tom teased me twice today with both the issues of sex and a kid. I figured he would, though. He’s so predictable. I just went along with it, though, which is all I can really do. When we returned from shopping he said there’d be no time for sex today, even though he expected it. Right! If he wanted to, there was plenty of time this morning, and when he gets home if I’m still awake yet he cries no opportunity. Who does he think he’s kidding?

In the car, I said I was sorry if my being hyper was obnoxious. Then he goes on about demonstrating good behavior for this kid we’ll never have.

He says he’s committed to being neat if I quit smoking for this fictitious baby and I’m so sick of his lies, sick of his games, sick of his teasing and I just wish he’d leave me the fuck alone about the kid. If he’s gonna be too scared to plant the seed, then I want nothing to do with the subject. I’m at the point now where I may write about it, but couldn’t care less to discuss it with him. It’s pointless.