Tom’s mom gave me a small, paperback journal with about 60 pages in it. She got it from the Diabetes Association, and she doesn’t need it, cuz she already has something to keep track of her diabetes.

After thinking about it, I decided I’d use this journal for the 29 songs I currently have. That includes the one I just wrote, a song called He Was Only Sixteen.

I spoke to my mother yesterday She told me that she drove straight to E. Longmeadow. That night, she was to stay at Boo and Max’s house, but in the midst of the -10º, she said it was, the boiler conked out. So the neighbors did their best to fix it to no avail. Therefore, she ended up in a motel in Enfield, CT. She didn’t check in till 2:45 AM. I don’t know why she didn’t stay at Larry’s house. Maybe she felt she’d be in the way there.

She wanted to stress to me that I was not being left out. I told her I understood that perfectly well, that I know she’s pretty busy, and that we’re not always here or available to answer the phone.

This is pretty much all she told me, but here’s something good. Remember the picture frame she sent? It matches two of the journals she sent with the stamps on them. She had told me to leave that frame empty, saying that there was a reason for it. Well, she’s gonna be sending pictures of Larry. I believe the pictures will be of the whole family and I hope so. She also says she’s sending the newspaper article on this tragedy. So, one of my wishes will be granted. I can’t see Larry, but I can now have a picture.

Thank God the pigs didn’t take a cruel turn by bringing Larry up on charges. We all know he’s an excellent driver and there’s no way this could’ve been his fault, or that he’d have been drinking or on drugs. He wouldn’t risk his son’s life, nor his own ass and business.

Andy’s been a wonderful support, as well as Tom. Always concerned about me and willing and wanting to hear anything I’ve had to say. Even Marla left me quite a post saying she felt for me and his family. However, she told me not to blame anyone/anything, just like Tom did, and said it was just an “accident.” Well, I disagree, but that’s OK.

I’m starting to feel somewhat better, although this is something that no one ever fully gets over and becomes “OK” with. Tom had told me that if we “pretend” I’m right about the sterility, that if I just accept how I feel, and don’t try to change my feelings, I’ll be able to live with it a whole lot easier. This doesn’t make much sense to me and I don’t agree with this. I think that the only thing that can help me live with it is looking at the negs of having a child and keeping in mind the fact that God kills young, innocent children with great potential and lives.

Like I said, I may take a child if that kind of fantasy and miracle happened, but no more will I ever take any measures to fight/obtain this impossibility. Anyone else may say it would be best to avoid this from happening, and this is easy for me to tell myself, but I know I need not worry. God has taken care of it. So, there’s no sense in avoiding sex during the right times, but I’d prefer to. It’s like with guns; even if you know it’s not loaded, you still shouldn’t point it at anyone. Well, in the past, I’d have pointed that gun. Now, I see no sense in even doing that. That’s just going against God, asking for more trouble, and all I can see is us losing any such miracle.

It’s both depressing and scary. The depressing part is when things are stagnant and empty and boringly still. The scary part is when the shit hits the fan. Who will die next? What will break next? Who will be hurt next? Who will get sick next? If it’s not a case of nothing going on and feeling like the world’s come to a complete standstill, someone’s in trouble of some kind. Or something is.

Now, onto better things.

Yesterday, Tom cleaned the bathroom sink too, with stuff that normally gags me out. He did a great job and it’s sparkling white.

He also made a dice game similar to the one I downloaded and had for a very brief time. Some games you download only operate for a short time unless you pay for them.

Lastly, he also found a few more pieces of info on Norah on AOL. She’s a vegetarian, she was in an episode of a series called The Hitchhiker last August, she’s read a book on tape, and there are some nude pictures of her. We can’t get these pictures just yet, though, cuz they’re in pay areas. He says, though, we can find them elsewhere for free. He also found info that I’d already stumbled across.

BOA was kind enough to give him tomorrow off cuz of the death, even though we’re not going back east and they know it’s back east. He’ll still be paid, too.

Now, here’s the best news, since this horrible thing started. And believe me, this excitement sure is a pleasant break from all the shock, sadness, anger and numbness I’ve felt these last few days.

Last night I was in the kitchen when I heard something rattling around the oven. Yup, it was Gizzy, who first came to our house two weeks ago. As I was opening the grill to see if I could see him, he darted out, ran behind the refrigerator, then scuttled behind the washer. So I set up the trap that Mary gave us.

The trap is a narrow tube that’s about 6” long. It’s in a slight V-shape. You put cheese in the back of it and set the door open, which is like a tent. It goes straight out, like a carport, with legs that go straight down. The end where the cheese is, is elevated. Then, once the mouse goes in, and goes to the back of it, the front lifts up, the door shuts and the legs that held the door up, slip under the tube and catch shut. This way, they’re trapped, but still alive.

After we trapped him, which to my amazement, didn’t take long at all, we put him into the bomb tank. This aquarium’s walls are about a foot and a half tall, but boy can he jump! He can make it just about to the top and he sure is a fast one. Small rodents love to climb and jump.

The phone’s ringing now. It’s got to be Andy at this hour and I wish he wouldn’t call me every night. I’m just not the phoneaholic I used to be, and I told him that.

Anyway, we found a small box for Gizzy to use as a burrow since they love that. I put a little bit of lettuce, carrots, pellets, paper, and even birdseed in. I even put a cap from a jar in with water and the ball they run around in. He’s eaten and even got some drinks. He does a lot of climbing around, on his box, on the ball and he climbs around the screen I put on top, too. His tiny toes go right through the screen, so he can enjoy a good climb, belly up, and get good exercise, but he can’t chew his way through it.

His tail is longer than his body. The mice I had were a bit bigger, too. Including the tail, he’s about 4 or 5 inches and will probably grow another inch. He’s a cute little one and he’s a grayish brown.

Tom and I researched the lifespan and it varies from 18 months to 2 years.

He’s quickly going from a terrified wild mouse to a calmer, braver pet. I still haven’t picked him up yet. I want to give him more time to get used to me, though I doubt he’ll ever let me handle him. I did have him running around in the ball, which he loved, and we’re gonna get him a wheel to run on when we can. That, he’ll really love, as do the smaller rodents. When he was in his box, I poured him out into the ball, put the lid on it, and let him run around in the kitchen. He’s still so small, and with him just being by himself, he can’t run around on the carpet so easily. At first, he was constantly jumping, and I told myself that I’d let him go if he didn’t settle in but now he’s much braver. He doesn’t always scamper into his box when I loom up over the cage. There have been times when he’s been out and about and I’ve put my hand against the cage, tapped it, and he just stood and stared at me, rather than tried to run.

I have quite the array of rodents now - a rabbit, a guinea pig, and a mouse, although a rabbit isn't technically a rodent.

I’m trying to work on 3 different things.

1. To keep in mind that while our marriage may be a full-time thing, our sex lives will always be a part-time thing. Part of marrying Tom meant marrying someone with a lower drive than myself, even though he denies this. Also, what with the way the shit continually hits the fan, we don’t have a choice. Also, sex is only when he wants it. That’s how it’s always been and always will be. He definitely prefers to be the one to do the initiating.

2. To turn inward and to talk less. I still feel some of the stuff I have to say is upsetting to him and that he can’t understand certain things I say and feel too well.

3. To only ask something of him once, then to just let him do or not do something about it.

His pickup-after-me and his reposition-things-after-me are just too much of an obsession with him to get him to break it. All I ask is that he says he doesn’t want to do something I may ask of him. Not say he will or that he’ll try if he really doesn’t want to. At least he’s gotten better. He’s way neater and organized, compared to when we first met. I don’t know how long the back room will stay as neat as it is, though. We’ll see. I don’t really understand this obsession of his. Maybe it’s just cuz he’s a man and men do like to be taken care of, picked up after, neatened up after, pampered, and served by women. I just wish he’d want to be served in bed more often. Especially during the times I’m hornier, which is pretty much every other couple of weeks. Once again, though, better not to aim that gun, even though it’s unloaded.

Well, here’s what I think, even though Tom has a way of pulling surprises at times. I’d say that he won’t want sex during those likelier times. He saw how much easier my last PMS was compared to my usual PMS ordeals, what with my not having to worry about God being up to his old tricks and having to be made to deal with some weird period or whatever. I think he’s going to remember this and want to give me a break, so to speak, for a while. I think he also still knows my fears and doubts about what a child could bring, and that losing Larry is so fresh in my mind. We don’t need to lose someone else, whether they’re unborn, a child, or an adult, and I hope it’ll be a long time before another person we love goes. I doubt that, but it won’t be our unborn or born child. So, with him knowing these fears and thoughts play on my mind, he shouldn’t touch me around the end of this week and the beginning of next. If he does, he should be nervous about the idea of cumming. No, it’s not like I want one of us to get fixed, cuz that’d be silly, putting sterility over sterility. That’s like giving a perm to a person with curly hair. If he touches me at those times, no, I won’t fight him, cuz I don’t want to upset him or have him take it personally and I still know there’s nothing to worry about.