Wednesday, January 14, 1998

Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t even go out in this city without being screamed at! Just what I need when I’m still so tensed out from not smoking. I go to the library. That went OK. We get to Ross’s to pick me up slippers and hair ties, and there’s this fucking kid screaming at the top of his lungs a few feet away from me while we’re waiting in line. I came home so stressed out that I drank too much too fast and felt woozy and a bit nauseous. Fortunately, though, the effect didn’t last very long. Like I said, maybe a part of me is glad Tom’s in denial so that he doesn’t have to deal with what a doctor might be able to do, etc. The struggle with not smoking is hard enough right now that I’m just too overwhelmed to even think of kids. The missing cigarettes outweigh anything else and make everything else just not matter as much. I know Tom sure as hell won’t admit I’m sterile and decide he wants a kid and get down on his knees and beg me to see a doctor with him, so I’ll think about seeing a doctor myself after we move. I think that’d be a good time, cuz then I’ll be so used to missing my cigarettes and trust me, if I still miss them as much as I do, I always will. Also, it’s easier to move two people instead of 3 and if we had a kid in the picture, we wouldn’t be of any help to each other, cuz one of us would have to watch the damn thing. So, I’ll rethink the situation after we’ve moved, but that won’t mean that anything’s changed. I’ll still know a doctor can’t help me and that God said no to a kid. I cannot handle it and God knows it. But I would like to maybe know someday what makes me sterile. Is it a problem with the eggs? Or with the uterus as I think?

Speaking of the things this wimp can’t handle, I begged God to please make the ball player go away that came to play next door. He did, thankfully. Another rude, brazen kid just waltzed right up to the hoop as it was passing by and played for a few minutes. I got a good look at the hoop as we pulled out today and it is untangled, so someone did get the lock out of it as I suspected.

Sunday night is my tentative night for smashing a wine cooler bottle next door. I can’t say for sure that he’s back to his usual shit, but I’m sure he is and that it’ll be more than obvious that he is by the time the day’s out. Yesterday he had pulled in with no music and parked where I could see him up front. I knew he wasn’t in for the day yet since he was up front, and I heard 3 car doors (he doesn’t seem to blast off as much when he’s got the bitch and kid with him). I had to play fucking phone and favors with Andy again a little while later when I heard some music, but then when I looked out, the car was still there. Just a few minutes later, though, I heard voices and the car left, so that tells me that it could’ve been a passing car, but probably wasn’t. Then later, as I was waiting to fall asleep, I heard music 3 different times. Again - a passerby? Or the freeloader? One of those times was the freeloader, I’m sure. So now that we’re gonna be on one of his music harassment campaigns again, he’s gonna have to deal with my harassment campaign, too, and be made to wish he never moved in here. The reason I’ve decided on late Sunday night is cuz Tom will be at work, it’ll suit my schedule better, and it won’t look too obvious (this way I won’t be doing anything till the music’s been a problem again for nearly a week). Yes, I eventually want them to know it was me who terrorized them, but slowly. I want there to be some mystery and confusion for them while I toy with them before I jump out at them in whatever way I’m gonna do so. You see, nothing major’s gonna change over there till September. Meanwhile, that “major change” could be 3 more freeloaders moving in over there. So I have to start now with getting them to see that they’re not welcome here and that their living here is gonna create problems for them.

I just realized, though, that MLK Day’s Monday and that we’re in for a 3-day weekend. So Sunday night’s bottle tossing may have to wait. I know there’s gonna be some kind of shit from over there on Monday. Especially with him living here. Yeah well, they’ve got my shit to listen to, too. The bottle tossing isn’t my only idea of harassment, either. There are others, but I’ll get into it another time.

I thought I just heard some door slamming next door with no music, but I’ll be honest and say that due to these houses being so damn close, you just can’t always be sure who’s doing what.

Tom and I figured out how to sex the mice. It’s really pretty simple, but we’ll have the store people verify that we’ve brought them all males when we go to bring them in.

According to the email I received, both my folks are having physical problems. Ma’s dreading having to use needles for her diabetes, but it’s looking like she’ll have to. She’s got back, thyroid, cholesterol, and arthritis trouble too, and Dad has got to have a triple bypass done on his legs in the spring. It’s similar to open-heart surgery. He’s been having a lot of pain when he walks, and I guess this has to do with the arteries and blood vessels.

I hopefully set Andy straight once and for all about his calls and all that and I think he’s sensitive and understanding enough to my situation, and will back off and cut me some slack. He won’t be around from Saturday to Sunday, cuz he and Michelle are going to a Xena convention in Los Angeles. I was trying to write last night when the phone rang, and I saw it was Andy with yet another fucking call. I said to myself how I was so sick of his calls and favors, and the first thing I heard when I played back his message was, “Jodi, I need a favor.” He said he was afraid Laura would go into his phonebook and get my number and call me, wanting her rent money now for drugs. He said not to give her the money and that she won’t kick my ass or anything. I left him a message that I don’t want these druggies he’s associated with to have my number and that if she came to the door, I’d kick her ass. If he wants friends he can’t trust, fine, but I don’t want to get involved. Besides, we made an agreement a long time ago that we wouldn’t share friends. I also told him that I just cannot handle the daily calls and that I still associate smoking with phones.

So, he left a reply saying he was sorry to put me through Laura’s shit and that he won’t want the money till the end of the month as planned. He also said it “finally hit him” why I don’t like phones now that I “finally” said it. The cigarettes are just a part of it. Meanwhile, I’ve told him time and time again that I’ve outgrown my phoneaholic ways and that I can’t stand to sit still for very long like he does, on phones, while watching TV, etc. I told him not to take it personally and that it doesn’t mean I love him any less. It’s just the way I am, and I’d prefer messages every 3-4 days and a live chat once a week. Not messages and chats every day. And I also reminded him that this excludes emergencies. The only thing that could prevent us from talking if he really needed to talk bad would be if I were asleep or out. So, I thanked him for being supportive and understanding and I also filled him in on what’s up with my parents, Tammy and Lisa.

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