Before I update, let me back up to some stuff I’ve read along the way of proofreading the Elm file. This is going back to S. Deerfield in 1991-1992.

There are about 3 things I read that make absolutely no sense to me. Why did I always use to say that I couldn’t remember much of my life up till I was 18? It’s just the other way around and people like Andy and Tom got me to see that. I remember almost everything. I remember too much. Way more than most people, I think, and I just don’t believe I could have any traumas that I’ve blocked out like that therapist Cassandra I had suggested. My memory’s just too darn good for that and I remember other traumatic situations I’ve been in, so why wouldn’t I remember all traumas and why would I block any out? So, if someone ever molested me, then yes, it’s blocked out beyond reach and I have no idea of it.

And what Valleyhead secrets? I had written something about not ever being able to write about secrets from there, but there are no Valleyhead secrets. I’ve written exactly what I went through there and what it was like there, just as I honestly remember my experiences to be.

Lastly, not too long before I moved from there to CT, I had mentioned seeing the apartments I was to move to. No, I didn’t. I never saw them till the day I got there and maybe those “nice” apartments I mentioned seeing there were the ones for the elderly that were further up the road. See, the NHA projects were spread down a long road that goes up to the top of a hill. That hill is the end of the line and there’s nothing but woods back there. Well, the part I said I saw must’ve been further up the road, not as far down to the end of this road up top the hill.

And where in the world did I ever get off thinking that any of these project buildings had skating rinks or elevators? The buildings all looked the same, except for the family and single units where I was. When you enter the road, which is long, but a dead-end, of course, all the projects branch off at the sides. Throughout 90% of the road, are small, square, 2-story houses that the old people were in. That was the better, cleaner, less congested, quieter area, but once you hit the top of the hill and the end of the road, everything’s on one floor, except for the family units that are in the middle of the single units. Each building has 4 apartments and is rectangular-shaped. These buildings are set up around a square court where people would park their cars. This is where it was more congested, trashed and noisy. The elderly houses just look like houses on a typical road, but not where I was. Where I was, there were two different types of building setups. The ones with 2-family units in the center, with a single unit on each side of the 2-family units. These were the 4-bedroom family units. The other buildings had 2-3 bedrooms only.

When in the apartment I lived in, if I looked out my front door, I’d see the square court which was the parking lot, and the dumpster. Also, the other 3 buildings. One was directly across from me, its front doors facing me. Then there was one to my left and to my right, its front doors facing into the court, too. To the left of my apartment was a big field that was part of the school. Behind me was all woods. To my right, was Barbara and her wild family, of course.

I’m sure the elderly people had better living conditions, but I know that the apartments I was in were totally condemned with no luxuries of any kind. I didn’t have a shower; just a tub. I had no garbage disposal, dishwasher, or anything there, but a small, filthy dump with paper-thin walls. The living conditions were pretty terrible. There was no door to the bedroom closet, which was more like a long, shallow alcove, than a closet. I had no shades on the windows and no light fixtures. I had nothing there. Nothing but no sleep and no peace and no life.

Anyway, back to the present. We bombed as planned, and went to Denny’s in Scottsdale.

No freeloader nuisances of any kind and God answered my prayers again. I know this was an easy prayer that may have had nothing to do with God after all, but just plain luck of my own. I asked him to please let me sleep till my body decided to wake up (yesterday was stereo day, so I was a bit worried about that and any bomb effects on my asthma), and that’s just what happened. I slept fine.

Now, if only he could answer my prayers for a child, but I know better. We all gotta just accept fate for what it is.

Later...

Poor Andy. I just spoke with him and he’s really bumming over not having a boyfriend and just about life in general. Well, you know me, I don’t believe a boyfriend’s meant to be for him, or else he’d have that by now.

He said that fat Indian called to tell him he’s been dating someone for a week and Andy’s like, that’s not fair! What about me? Yeah, that’s just what I say when I turn on the TV and hear of a 13-year-old getting pregnant, That’s not fair! What about me? 

So after thinking about it, I asked myself, then him when he called me? If this guy got someone he’s been seeing for a week, then why would he need to call Andy?

Cuz the boyfriend was out of town for a few days on a business trip, he was bored and just wanted to rub it into Andy and brag about it, no doubt. This is why Andy thinks he called and I agree.

Later...

I just had yet another of my many many theories/beliefs as to why I have been denied the gift of a child. And the woman I had wanted, and the singing career I had wanted, and other things I once wanted quite badly.

Everyone says my mother spoiled me as a child cuz of her guilt about my ear. Tom says I’m spoiled, too. Well, if any of this is true, then I wonder if that’s got anything to do with why most of the things I’ve really wanted really bad were denied to me. Did God, the devil, or whatever up there decide - OK, she was spoiled enough as a kid, so now I’m gonna make sure she can’t have the things she wants most. She has to pay for her mother’s mistakes.

But what about the fact that my childhood was also a living nightmare most of the time? What about the living hell I went through with my parents, others, and the things that weren’t just handed to me? Doesn’t that count for anything? I’ve still had to work for and fight tooth and nail for almost everything I’ve had or done. From life’s basic, everyday things, to things like singing, drawing, etc. You know how it is with me - the more normal and ordinary something is in life - the harder I have to try in order to obtain it. (maybe)

How can I be 109 pounds? Well, I am and I know I’m a few days away from my period, but I don’t feel like I’ve gained 4 pounds in two days. Usually, when I’m over 106, I feel it, so to speak, but now I feel like I did two days ago when I was 105. Has my metabolism really gotten that slow that I could gain two pounds a day? Or am I becoming more solid and gaining muscle weight and not inches, water or fat? Anyway, I don’t feel loaded with water and bloated to the point where I feel I’m gonna burst. And my tits are virtually free of soreness. Guess that vitamin E really does help, cuz I feel pretty good and not like such a blimp for being a few days away from my rag, so to hell with what the scale says, even though I still know I could afford to firm up and lose a good 10 pounds or so.

Andy also told me about something that he’s told me since he got here he’s felt alienated by his family, with the exception of his sisters.

I got a recipe from a gelatin box for Fruity Crème Desert, so I copied it into the index card notebook Ma gave me and I typed it up for her, too.