Well, they finally delivered our recycling pail. We agreed, though, we’re not gonna make a big deal of it. Obviously, glass jars, soda cans, and shit like that are recyclable, but if we’re not sure, we’ll just throw them in the regular pail.

On Sunday, next door threw the quietest party ever. There was no music, ball playing or loud yelling. I would’ve easily slept through it. I hope all their parties are like this where they keep themselves inside their place and not take their party out directly by our windows. These are definitely summer people, so I’m sure that from around May to Labor Day, there’ll be some major outbursts.

Bunny finally had to go into the bomb tank. She was well on her way out of Piggy’s cage when I finally realized there was no keeping her in there. So, after I put her in Piggy’s old aquarium, I put the screen over it, taped two sides of it to the glass, then tucked the other two sides under the cage. I also put heavy boxes on top. Something I couldn’t do with the other cage.

I can’t wait till their new cage is built!

Once again, this period is so light and while my boobs aren’t sore anymore, I never lost my water weight gain. I still weigh the same before, during, and after my rag. I gotta do something about this. Otherwise, in a few months, I’ll steadily weigh 108, then a few months later I’ll weigh 110 for a while and this will go on till I’m 130-150 pounds all over again.

There is a part of me that’s doing a lot better, though. My hair. Yes, I still have some split ends, but not as many, and I really believe this will prevent split ends before they start. Anyway, all of it, from roots to ends, is so much softer. It looks and feels much healthier. Even when I don’t straighten it, it no longer feels like straw and it’s not so frizzy anymore, either.

Later...

I’m still not as happy as I’d like to be now. I still have that doomed, hopeless feeling and it’s got me both sad and angry. Marla’s been a good listener through AOL. She told me about Linda, which I already knew, of course, and told me to get tested and do whatever it takes. I told her that that’s what we intend to do, but I also told her, that even though Tom disagrees, what my belief is about God, curses, punishments and how you can’t fight fate and that I fully believe it’s not meant to be.

What she had to say about childbirth shocked the shit out of me. She thought it was gonna be so painful, but she says she had no drugs and that it was easy. She said she only ripped 2-3 stitches down there but wasn’t sore down there at all. Of course not as she's huge? Me? I’m so small that if I could have a kid regularly, there’d be no way I wouldn’t be in utter pain and not rip to pieces, cuz I’m small and sensitive. Maybe not as sensitive as I used to be, and yes, I may be a toughie to a big degree, but not like that. Back when there were no drugs, which I hear doesn’t help much, how could people push a kid out through the agony of a torn pussy?

She said that easy births run in her family, but that Linda had a long, painful ordeal. Well, of course she did. She fought God and had in vitro. She fought God and won, though, and got him to break down and give in. He wouldn’t even do that for me. If he did, though, I’m sure he’d make it the worst possible labor anyone could have, in exchange for giving in, and I probably wouldn’t be able to shit or pee for weeks. Even worse, he’d probably make sure I really did have to have a C-section, so I could still feel like I didn’t experience the process naturally and do my job right, so to speak. I still wish he’d give in for me, too, whether I had an excruciating vaginal birth or a C-section. He won’t even go so far as to let me get pregnant.

Like I said, 90% of my life is what God says it is. I just have no say at all when it comes to making major decisions about my life or body. It’s all up to him.

I’m on a liquid diet till Saturday, but who knows if he’ll let me have my way with that? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was pregnant, cuz my body’s just like it was before my rag (even my emotions are). Except for the sore boobs and pre-cramps being gone, I just never lose my post-period water weight gain anymore. I still keep bouncing between 104-106.

So this is what Tom’s cum has done for me - not made me pregnant, but has made my period light, made me constantly watery and I look like shit. I look like I weigh 120. Well, if I don’t do anything about it (that is, with God’s permission), it’ll get up there eventually. As long as I can never have a child, there’s no reason why I should be fat. I know it’s got something to do with Tom’s cum, but I certainly don’t want him to go back to not cumming, either, even if we didn’t want a kid, so I can feel inadequate in bed again. He’s been right about the cumming issue, but I just hope it doesn’t take another two years to step up in bed to where he’s cumming more than once or twice a month.

My body’s acting like it did in my late teens - early 20s. I just look at food and gain a pound or two. I’ve got to reverse my thyroid and speed up my metabolism, so I can go back to staying at the same weight, no matter what I eat and how much I eat. If I can just get down to 98 pounds, I should look and feel much better and my clothes should fit me better. Meanwhile, I suppose I should try to tighten things up since except for the arms, that doesn’t seem to come as naturally anymore.

I’m just so fucking pissed, it isn’t funny. I’m sick of having no control. Will God ever let me do something I really, really want to do soooo very, very bad?! I just wish he’d leave me the fuck alone and let me live my own life the way I want it to be. Everything’s got to be his way and I’m just so sick of it! I just want to live for Jodi for once and do what Jodi picks out as far as her destiny or occupation goes. I’m tired of knowing what I want, wanting it really bad, doing whatever I can do to get it, and having him say no and throw it up in my face. If I’m such a piece of shit to God and if he hates me so much, why does he bother with me? I’m tired of having to be his little piece of clay that only he can mold into whatever he wants. I’m tired of being his slave.

I just wish to hell I knew Tom was gonna be as right about this as he was about the cumming. If he was right, when would that be, though? How many years from now? Would I be around 35? Would I be around 40? Better later than never, but I’m sick of waiting. Why can’t anything ever come easy and quicker to me? Why is it that I never get 90% of what I want and the things that I do get that I want take years? I’ve wanted this long enough. We shouldn’t have to wait. We don’t deserve to wait. Oh, I know, we’re not 16, we didn’t kill anyone, rob a bank, or sell crack, but can God ever do anything fair? Is he that miserable himself, that he has to make most people miserable, too? If he was such a good loving God like people say he is, then why doesn’t he prove it? Why doesn’t he be fairer? Why doesn’t he listen to me when I’ve talked to him? Why does he ignore most of us like he doesn’t give a shit or care and like our problems/dreams mean nothing to him?

I just wish I could see into the future and see if Tom’s right about us having no problem at all getting me pregnant, but I’m still pretty sure that if I could see into the future, I wouldn’t like what I was seeing at all. If only I could see what he sees, though. If only I could see a miracle and eat my words. That’d make all this waiting a lot easier to deal with.