Oh, those assholes at AOL! Always a problem with them. Alex finished reading the Oswego and Woodside journals and is ready for me to send more, yet I can’t even do that.

When Tom was in the military, his superior was trying to fuck him out of time off that was rightfully his. Everyone told him that there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it, either, but they were wrong. So, he insists that there is something that can be done about next door’s music. Of course, one will get the run around if you try calling a government office over the phone, but government letter correspondences cannot be destroyed; they must legally be dealt with, etc.

Tom just doesn’t understand what it’s like to be under the influence of a God who insists she lives with other people’s noise day in and day out, year after year. He doesn’t believe in fate, he’s tolerant of noise, and he doesn’t understand that there are consequences for trying to fight what the Gods have ordered. Noise is just what the Gods have ordered. And there’s just no escaping it. Just like I told Tom, who agreed that this was possible, even if they moved right now, some new source of shit and noise is gonna move right in there. The only way out of it is to live more secluded, but I don’t know if God will ever allow us to do that. And what if I could? What if I could live where our neighbors were off in the distance and couldn’t be a problem for us as far as noise went? What would God do to me to compensate for my getting around him? If you try to get around fate or if you do get around fate, there’s always a price to pay for it.

Later...

Another thing I said would happen that did happen was based on how God doesn’t give without taking. He let me let myself give my lungs back to me and in exchange for it, he gave me the music for taking the pain of the cigarettes from me. This all goes to prove that no, God will not reward me with a child for quitting smoking. Why is it that it seems that the more people do bad, the more you get rewarded for that? I don’t, but it seems that most get rewarded with great things for being bad, but those that deserve great things more, just never get them. I may not be as desperate for a child as I once was, but I’d still take it if I could get it. I’m just not gonna go out of my way to try to get it (a doctor) cuz I know it won’t get me anywhere and if it did, I know how fucked up that kid would come out. He’s not gonna give that to someone who’s wanted that for years without a serious drawback to it. The price of that may very well be something that’d kill us both to have to pay.

Another thing that’s really sad about this unfair world and about God too, is that it’s one thing to do shit to get shit back that you deserve, but it’s another to not do shit and still get shit, anyway.

Later...

Got an update that may make my vibe about a change next door make sense.

Since 7 AM those construction trucks have been over there and this time, what they did would’ve woken me up for sure, had I been asleep. In fact, I’m sure next door is laughing their asses off about it, assuming it woke me up or pissed me off.

I never heard next door leave this morning, but they would’ve had to have left before 7:00, cuz there was some other weird-looking truck parked just outside the carport. Even Tom’s stumped as to what they could be doing, but when he went to check on the leak, which is half fixed and looking promising for once after we got rain, he said he saw them digging up trenches in the backyard and also, that thing he said was a slide, isn’t a slide. It’s a backhoe. At first, he thought they were sandblasting the house to prep it for painting since the city loves to waste money. Anyway, he’s not sure what the hell they’re doing. They could be doing something with the gas line or maybe putting in a sprinkler system to spruce it up to try to sell it to a buyer if the sick fucks are really about to move, but who knows.

Tom said that this explains why the dog’s gone. If they’re not moving, though, and if the dog returns, I’ll have to listen to its annoying barking, but at least that should stop the music, which I haven’t yet heard today, to my utter amazement. I said “yet,” though, cuz I’m sure they aren’t temporarily staying elsewhere or have moved yet. Tom brought up another theory about the music that I wondered myself, given the absence of the dog, all this work they’re doing, the packing shit in the trunk, etc. Maybe he figured, “Well, we’re out of here soon anyway, so I’m gonna blast my music for her till we do leave.”

Anyway, if they are gone, or just he’s gone, or if the dog returns, we’ll know it within a few days at least, I’d think. Later Tom will get up on the roof again to see if he can figure out what they’re doing and what it may mean. I still have a feeling about them moving, but whether or not it remains owned by the city, there’ll still be problems from over there. The only difference will be that if it’s subsidized people, there’ll be more turnovers and more of them to deal with. If it’s a buyer, it’ll be a long-term family to have to deal with. Well, God’s stuck me with screaming kids, bassy music and dogs. What’ll be next? The same thing or college kids that party hearty all the time and loud motorcycles? If it stays black over there that means we’ll still have to deal with bass. They fucking love that shit. If it turns Spanish, we’ll be back to Mormon land, as they’ve only got a hundred kids, but there’ll be kids and dogs either way.

Tom’s out signing the papers for the loan and after he stops at his ma’s, he’ll be back.