Happy birthday to journal number 1. Journal 1 is 9 years old today. Tom says next year’s the big one. Yes, 10 years is pretty cool to be writing journals for that long. Bet most people couldn’t imagine that or writing as many journals as I’ve written, but that’s cuz most people hate to write. The difference between the writing of my first several journals and the ones I do now is like - wow! Reading the beginning of journal 1 alone sounds an awful lot like the wacky letters Andy and I have written.

Yesterday we slaved our asses off getting most of the back room done. That leaves the yard, the patio, and anything Tom may want to do with the little room off the end of the big back room and the garage. And other projects, too. Right now, I’m testing the cigarette machine again.

My stereo has been working well. Amazing, huh? I never thought it would, but I won’t count on it to stay that way. It’s bound to malfunction again sooner or later, but he says he can adjust its gears permanently if it does. He says that when the hair got wrapped around the motor, it threw the gears off and that’s why it’d have trouble playing certain disks or the higher tracks of them.

We rearranged the back room, now that we don’t have to worry about leaky spots. We put the two main computers back against the wall where the windows are, as well as the desk, the file cabinet, and a few other little things. Instead of using the tiny speakers for the computer, we’re using my old stereo speakers. He still has the table he uses as a desk for doing bills by the alcove. The brown, wavy, furry-like chair that Andy gave me is now where the computers were before, and Piggy and Bunny are there, too. We put the computer that operates the cigarette machine on the wall where their cage used to be right by the microwave. He took off one of the smaller shelves to be used to put the fan up over the bed to make it louder cuz it’d be closer. No, they haven’t woken me up, but I don’t want to take chances and it’d take the edge off me, anyway.

They’ve had their music at a reasonable volume when they come and go, although, I know that some of the times I’ve heard music, it might’ve been someone else. It won’t last long, though. They’re bound to come in so loud that it shakes the house down soon enough.

We played with those Jenga blocks that Carol and Steven gave us last Christmas. The blocks you stack up and try to keep restacking till they fall. I won again, of course. Right now, he’s doing his favorite thing to do - watching TV. Once again, there’s no sign of wanting to have more sex from him, just as I figured. The TV even turns him on more. I may have been dead wrong in calling him a liar about the cumming issue, but all these promises of more sex and a baby are bullshit. Not that I’m OK, but if I were, as long as he’s gonna squirt 2-3 times a month and at the wrong times, then no, there’ll never be a kid.

Later...

Tom asked me if something was on my mind. I told him I was worried about his amount of seriousness. I told him that if we’re gonna say we’re gonna have more sex, let’s do it. Otherwise, if we’re not, let’s not say we’re gonna. He said I had nothing to worry about. 

I hope not.

I certainly never thought that 9 years to the date of my first journal and first journal entry, I’d be writing about sex with a husband and computers and stuff like that. It seems like journal 1 was written by a whole different person in a whole different life. It seems that way here and there throughout my journals. It seems like the first 5 were one person and one person’s life, then it seems like that for the Woodside journals, then the Deerfield ones, the Norwich ones, the Vista Ventana ones, the Crystal Creek ones, and the ones here. While several things have remained the same since I moved in here in September of 1993, so much really has changed, too.

Later...

Just made another change in the back room. I took my private little worktable that’s been in both of the bedrooms, but mainly the master bedroom, and stuck it in the back room. It looks a little different, but if I don’t like it, I can always move it back. Tom wouldn’t mind either way, I’m sure. I have the bulletin board right by my table and I’ve got some Norah pictures up there, as well as some address labels and stamps. I moved out here cuz I thought it’d be nice to be by the computer for a change since I go back and forth between the two constantly. I moved the bedroom fan to where the table had been, so now it’s at the foot of the bed. It’s not much louder there, but it may be a bit louder. Plus, the emptier the room is, the louder the fan will be. Once we get the bed we want in a million years (provided it works out), it should be even louder.

I haven’t found any concrete evidence telling me next door’s moving, but I still sense something’s up with them. I just don’t know what.

I’m still pretty sure we’ll be here for at least 3-5 more years. If we could have a kid, then it’d probably take 10 years to get out of here, but if I had to choose between the two, I’d take the kid.

I get strong vibes about long-term things, as you know. Not only does my vibe say there’ll never be a kid, but I can see more vividly about 1-4 months at a time. So, omitting the fact that I’ve got a strong vibe that we’ll never have a kid, I already know for sure that I’ll get a November period. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. It’s etched in stone and totally inevitable. The feelings that come are hard to explain. It’s just something I just know, no matter what.

Well, I’m gonna go and watch a movie that’s going on soon.