It’s time for me to be all stressed out. The weekend’s here. According to Tom, the car’s been moving again. In other words, the asshole’s still there, as I figured, and will be up to his usual shit in just a matter of time.

I’ve been so busy that I haven’t written much lately, so I hope I can remember to cover all that’s been going on.

Andy got led on and blown off by yet another guy. It’s just not meant to be for him. He enjoyed Stevie cruising on the web and visiting with me.

Tom got a bottle of Metabolics and like I said, if this doesn’t work, nothing will. He said he talked to someone there and since it’s from a health store, it shouldn’t have any side effects. We didn’t see anything written about that, anyway. The person there said this is their most popular brand that I’ve got and should see results in two weeks.

Tom also got his new glasses. They’re a lot nicer. He wears contacts more often, though.

Now for my frustrating, yet wonderful new toy. Tom got a print studio program that lets you do so much in the way of graphic art. The things you can do with it amazes me. The possibilities are endless. I can make my own stationery by adding some kind of border design (including pictures of Gloria and Norah to border with), or by making a background page that I type over. And the thing I love about this printer is that the ink doesn’t get lighter and lighter till it dies like a dot matrix with ribbons does. It stays the same sharp colors till the ink runs out of its cartridges.

I’ll be getting a wire-bound unruled journal for sure, so I can insert clipart and graphics into my text and type over pages with designs on them.

The clipart and pictures this thing contains are amazing. There are so many. Everything from artwork to live images. There’s every subject imaginable, too - animals, food, textiles, floral, icons, woods, metals, fun designs, plants, etc.

It even has a card-making program and I made some really cool cards of a few different sizes that fold differently from one another. In a way they look just like something you’d buy in a store, only the paper’s not as heavy or as glossy. They have glossy paper you can get for inkjets that print pictures out of say, Gloria, Norah, anyone, in an even more realistic and higher photographic quality.

I made tons of samples up for Tom that I did to practice with and learn with. I also made up a card for his ma. It’s got pretty scenery on the front, ducks on the back, with a brief message saying that I made it special for her.

Tom was right when he said I’d like it for letters, but not for journals. The word processor it has is really one fucked up program. It’d be very hard for me to describe why that is. You’d have to know a little about computers and know the different programs I’m talking about, but it’s bad. It does have a spell checker, but you can’t tell what line you’re on, selecting is a bitch, you can’t change fonts, sizes or colors easily, and the page doesn’t move as you type.

Later...

I saw that they’re up next door, cuz I saw a light on 15 minutes ago. I guess the freeloaders mainly leave at 7 AM. I’m waiting to hear how he leaves. It’s when he comes in for lunch that’d give me an idea of what he’s up to at the moment, but I’ll be asleep through it. I don’t think this weekend will be a problem as far as any parties cuz they’re out of season. The company, outside chats that last more than a minute or two, and bopping around the carport, won’t escalate till it warms up. And you can only have so many birthdays. There wouldn’t have even been a party all winter if it hadn’t been for him being around (the kid’s party).

I still can’t believe the dog’s gone! I just can’t believe it! She must’ve got caught with it. I can’t imagine she’d give it up voluntarily. I don’t miss that thing barking for 2-3 hours a day and sometimes more, but how’s this gonna affect the music situation if this dog stays away and isn’t replaced by another dog?

I wish these fucking freeloaders would just move on. I may not get anyone any better over there, but still, they’ve been 3 feet away from me for too long. They’ve got to go. I just don’t want them there anymore. I was here first and I’m saying it’s time for them to move on. So, as soon as they act up and I know about it, I’ll make them wish they never moved in there. As I said before, there’s something I could do about the music quickly, but it may just be worth my time and effort to slowly terrorize them. If I began harassing them on February 1st, for example, I’ll have them out of here by June 1st. I drove those Mormons out of here. I mean, I know a part of their moving probably had to do with the city, with a house that was too small for them, and other things, but I think I was a part of their moving. I didn’t mean to drive them away; I just didn’t want their kids screaming 3 feet away from me. I would take that and a dog over the music, but I’d rather not have to deal with anything as far as other people’s noise. I’ve had enough of it. Someday, though. Someday we’ll be out of here and won’t live where we and the neighbors could reach out from our windows and practically be holding hands. When you live where your bedroom is closer to the neighbor’s driveway than your own, that really sucks.

Later...

El cocko left just after 7:30. It didn’t play any music. It didn’t even slam its door that hard. Just someone saying, “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”

I decided that since Tom’s so against me doing anything violent or scaring someone to their face, I’d compromise with him. I won’t deck them, but I will be heard, too. God may see to it that they don’t hear me, but I will do everything in my power to not only be heard when I hear them (when I hear a lot more of them than what I just heard, obviously), I’ll make them want to move. Haven’t heard those sounds coming from their yard, so I’d guess that those scraping sounds I heard were the dog nosing and pawing its bowl around. It did sound like it could’ve been plastic scraping concrete after all. I’m surprised he’s still parking in the carport at this time of year with the dog gone, but then again, I’m not. It’s easier to see someone that may mess with your beloved car stereo when they’re in the carport, versus just outside of it. After that letter, I doubt he’ll park outside the carport much.

I realized something that this letter could’ve ensured, unfortunately, and that’s their staying together. She may use this as an excuse to keep him under her wing and he may want to play big, tough man and stay with her cuz of this. Anyway, enough freeloader talk for now.

What the fuck was that? I just heard this really loud bang that was even louder than their damn car doors, but I can’t blame this one on them when they’ve already left. Maybe it was a big truck, but all I hear right now is the guard dogs. Thank you, God, for not having me be asleep for this big bang!

Speaking of God and noise, though, he sure does have a way of balancing things out. It makes me wonder - if we move to where it’s remote, will he give me other problems, like having me be bothered by some unknown source of noise that Tom and I won’t be able to identify? Or will I just start waking up a lot for no reason? Not that I’ve had a problem sleeping around here cuz 97% of the time I’ve been here I slept just fine. It’s the disturbances I get when I’m up that are the issue, but that’s better than having my sleep be an issue like it was in the NHA. If these freeloaders ever stole my sleep, I would kick their asses in a heartbeat.

This winter, so far, has produced less of other stereos blaring by. I’m sure God figured he’d spare me the drive-by stereos this winter, knowing that the stress of Mr. Fuck next door would compensate for it and any shit I may get from him.

Tom’s passing his test with flying colors. What I mean by “passing” is that he’s doing just what I knew he’d do. Not that this was a lie on my part, but I made it clear to him enough that I wanted to just accept fate and move on, so to speak, and I figured he’d take that to his advantage. I had told him that if having a kid meant that much to him, he could let me know and ask me to make a doctor’s appointment. I know he thinks I’m fertile, but he had said he was gonna take the beginning steps and get a physical “just in case” once we got our new medical cards (our insurance is now Intergroup), but he hasn’t made a move yet to make an appointment. He’s had the time, too, but he hasn’t read their brochures or anything. That’s some motivated guy! He really wants that kid!

Anyway, since you either have kids or life, I really appreciate my sterility/freedom when we get new programs like this graphics thing that provide hours of fun that I couldn’t have had with a child. I also have nothing to worry about as far as our getting together this weekend (prime time) so he can have an attack of amnesia and forget how to fuck me. I’ve dropped enough hints about how many things need to be done this weekend, so I don’t think the scaredy-cat will bother. He knows I’m uncomfortable about it, too. He hasn’t said so, but I just know, and I know where his true feelings lie, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to forget about sex till next week. Unless he really wants to play games and tease me. Also, my schedule’s gonna be on nights, and he’ll probably be working on Mary’s car. Mary always needs work done on her car.

Paula left a message last night, but once again, we’re playing phone tag.

Andy left 3 goddamn messages Wednesday, tried calling twice yesterday, so I’m sure I’ll get 2-3 messages today of the same old.

I called to see what was going on with Tammy and she was on her way to her second home - the doctor’s office.

God, these freeloaders have really scarred me, so to speak, with their fucking bass. Just like the NHA scarred me with other sounds. If I hear anything, like a big truck that resembles a bassy sound, I totally tense up. Thanks, freeloaders. Thanks a fucking lot! Well, hopefully the nasty, hateful things I said in my letter to them will make the lasting impression on them that they’ve made on me. Speaking of lasting impressions, though, as much as they’ve stressed me out and made my life miserable on and off, when we move, I won’t remain so scarred as I did after leaving the NHA. After leaving the NHA, there were still similar sounds and the same sounds that triggered that old familiar tension in me and that brought me right back there in my mind. But when we leave here, there’ll be no kids, bass, dogs, slamming, banging, screaming, and all that shit that I had to live with, to remind me and to stress me out.