So far, the weekend’s been a pleasant one, save for the usual sex bullshit.

I saw El Cocko’s car Friday at just after noon and thought it was an odd time to see his car. It worried me, but it doesn’t look like he’s moved back in yet. He will, though. In time. It’s inevitable. I haven’t seen its car since, but yesterday, some blue car I’ve never seen before must’ve dropped the bitch off. She actually went elsewhere for the day. If he were still in the picture, though, I’m sure something would’ve been going on here. Anyway, I heard the kid wailing and a few adult voices. I saw a big male freeloader who may have had some hair but couldn’t tell for sure who it was. These things all look the same. It left with the music at an acceptable volume, which is lucky for them, cuz one more outburst, holiday or not, and they’re out of here. Anyway, that’s all that’s been heard so far this weekend from next door.

Throughout the weekend, Tom worked on both our computers, but mainly mine. He made mine faster, but he had a lot of problems, too. I like the faster computer and I like the new version of AOL I’m using. It lets me choose fonts in the email and even lets me insert background pictures and things like that. I asked my folks what version they have. If they have 3.0 and not 4.0, then I can’t use these new features for them. This thing also has a spell checker, too.

It was muggy last night, and we even had some unexpected rain. It stopped a few hours ago and the sun’s poking through and drying things up. At 9:30 this morning, we took advantage of the light drizzle we had and went for a beeless swim. They are so bad this year! They come to the pool in 2s and 3s constantly. Sometimes there are even 4 at once! Usually, they come one at a time and there’s a 3-5-minute gap in between trips. Not this year! This year’s really making up for last year’s low bee count. I won’t swim unless it’s raining or dark.

I got a kick out of what I did to that bitch of a cat yesterday. Not White Paws, but mama bitch. I chased her out of the yard and when she realized I was too close behind her and that she wouldn’t have time to scale the block wall, she turned around and I veered her off into the pool. It was only for a second, though. As soon as she fell in, she got out a second later and ran off towards the side of the house.

Lisa called yesterday in tears. Mark’s 18-year-old daughter is becoming a regular little Jenny C, I guess. She and Lisa are friends and get along well, but Lisa, who cut herself again, is finding that some people don’t want to be around you when you’re down. This girl told Lisa, “Every time I come over, you’re always doing suicidal things.” When I say she’s become a regular little Jenny C, what I mean is that she’s willing to associate with Lisa when Lisa’s happy, but not when she’s depressed. Tom pointed out, though, that this is not something that’s necessarily easy for an 18-year-old to handle, but still. She should stick by Lisa if she’s a true friend and I told Lisa this.

Some therapist she’s got, too. It’s like she’s either blind or is a biology/meds/hospital freak like too many of them are. First Lisa says this therapist thinks the vacation would do her good, but now she wants Lisa in the hospital. The problem is Tammy. Can’t she see that? She needs to get out of that house! Not to Florida with her dad punching her out, not to a hospital, but out of that house and to a place where she won’t be abused emotionally or physically.

I believe that someday, just like with me, Lisa will stop cutting herself. All one can do is tell her it’s wrong, but then she must go at her own pace and do whatever she’s gonna do. I just hope it won’t take something as extreme as window-jumping to get her to learn her lesson. She’s gonna have to learn it the hard way, but how hard of a way will it be? It scares and saddens me.

She said she’s depressed a lot and sometimes she doesn’t even know why. I suggested she look into her diet. Maybe she doesn’t eat right. Maybe vitamins will help her. Not eating right can mess with moods, so we’ll see.

I just heard a car door that sounded like it could’ve been next door, but I didn’t see anything when I looked out. It’s prime time for them, too. These are their peak hours to come alive.

I got Lisa laughing at the end of our conversation. When I was in Natchaug she snuck a note on my pillow which I found after she, Tammy, and Dad left on one of their visits. It was so sweet, and I think I’ve still got it somewhere around here. She said she really looked up to me then. I told her that I was sorry I wasn’t able to return the favor and leave her a surprise note when she was in Natchaug.

How right people are when they say that age really affects your metabolism and weight. One can control their weight from getting sky-high, but not be thin again. Yesterday, I woke up at 120 again. Did that for about a week. But then I ended up throwing it away by eating myself back up to that infamous 124 cuz I’d gotten some Chinese food. I awoke at 122 today, but who knows how long it’ll be before I’m 120 again? I know I can never be thin again, but I want to try to keep my weight around 120. If I’d been eating normally all along (normal for me is still less than what’s normal for the average person) I’d be in the 140s now, so I can control it to a degree. I could never get under 120, but I can keep from going over 125. My metabolism isn’t at a complete standstill like it was for a while, but it’s still very very slow. Just one extra bite can cost me a few pounds. It’s either a few bites a day and going hungry almost all the time or eating normally and having my weight keep climbing to God knows how high. I can’t afford to let my weight go over 125 cuz then I can barely get in my “rock-out” position and I don’t want to have to keep getting new clothes periodically. All I, or Jenny Craig, or Weight Watchers, or groups like that could do for me would be to control my weight, not lessen it. Again, I could lessen it if I stopped eating, but that’s not something I want to do at this time. Maybe I could bring my weight down in notches like I mentioned before, since I’ve noticed a pattern, but I just don’t have the strength, tolerance, or willpower for that. Maybe I will someday, but for now, I can’t live on just liquids.

Sex is the same old games, lies, and excuses it is 95% of the time. I’m mid-cycle now, so since my husband, who can’t come out and say, “Look. I really don’t want a kid, I’m 95% sure you’re sterile and not 100%, so let’s not screw today,” we had to play games instead. The usual - wouldn’t go inside, went soft, blamed it on some bogus thing. He was lined up just fine, I guided him in as usual, but as soon as he was in, that old subconscious fear kicked in and he deflated. Then this time, he blamed it on feeling like he was rubbing against bone or something that hard that hurt him. And I also need to let him stick it in there from now on. I do? Since when? There’d be no problem with my sticking it in there if he’d just let himself stay hard enough to get in there, and if he’d just drop his silly fears. But I know we can’t help what’s in our subconscious. I just wish he’d stop being so stubborn and not deny my belief of a subconscious fear going on within him. I wish he’d consider it and look into it, but nope. So maybe this is conscious. Maybe he knows what he’s doing and enjoys it. He didn’t seem so upset afterward. Instead, he was all playful and cheery. He didn’t act anything like a man who didn’t get his fun would normally act. Well, he has a hand. He can take care of himself and so can I. I can’t keep going round and round in circles here with the same old bullshit, games, lies, denial, and lame excuses for another 5 years. The 5 years I’ve already had are more than enough for me. He’s gonna have to fend for himself, which is obviously what he prefers most of the time and he doesn’t seem to mind, especially around mid-cycle time.

And of course, there’s always God who’s still acting like there’s some big pregnancy to delay. It’s all so fucking weird! Why would God still want to hex me sexually? Can’t he see it doesn’t hurt or faze me like it used to? I’ll write about how our sex life is, whenever there is one which there isn’t too often, but I’m too used to it for it to affect me negatively anymore.

Later…

I forgot to say earlier, that while there are signs pointing to Tom having a subconscious fear/problem, there are also things that point the other way. After our little charade yesterday, we were discussing it and at one point I told him I bet he wouldn’t go down on me, then screw me. His response was that he’d go down on me, but not screw, cuz he had to work on the computers. He’d been working on the computers all along, so why were they suddenly more important? See? He didn’t even want to screw all along. I’m sure he took care of himself.

Later…

Here’s another thing I forgot to mention since not writing for a few days makes you forget some stuff - I got a message from Andy. Last Friday I left him a message asking what was going on with him and he left me a message saying that the reason he hasn’t called is cuz he feels like a loser. He said he’s a jobless loser, getting fired really fucked with his head, he’s not suicidal but he’s miserable and tired of being alone and penniless. He said I didn’t need to call him back cuz I didn’t need his misery.

I called him back, but not live. I used the message send to let him know he can confide in me when he’s down, not to think he’s a burden to me, and maybe, just maybe, once again, this is a sign saying he should either get out of the restaurant business or think of heading back east. I told him to call me when he’s ready to and wished him luck for when he goes job hunting again.