Saturday, October 24, 1998

Tom made a pile of papers from our file box for me to scan and save, and to scan and trash. So I made a legal document folder on the computer that Tom will put on CD.

Did laundry, dishes, and the usual weekend stuff.

Got an email from Kim. She’s doing OK. Still with Walter. She forwarded me some blonde jokes, but they weren’t all that funny. Why are there so many blonde jokes? Is it cuz people really hate blondes? Or is it cuz people are jealous of them?

We had sex which was typical - cumless.

My schedule’s backing up again. A few days ago I got up at 12:30 PM, yesterday I got up at 10:00 AM, and today I got up at 8:00 AM.

I forgot to say that the city woke me up at 7:30 on Friday. I awoke to a huge truck with a thunderous idle that was parked on the corner here by the fire hydrant right in front of our house. They worked on the sewers all day, but like an idiot, I forgot to turn the music beats on. The amazing part of it was that I went back to sleep and didn’t get woken up again. Without Benadryl, either.

There was a ruckus around here alright (this morning), but it wasn’t next door. The people across the street had a tag sale. A big one. There were enough car door slams to make up for several weekends of that from the freeloader. It drew a few stereo bangers in, too. By just 11:00 AM I had heard 5 stereos bang by.

Tom says their sign said it was a moving sale, although there’s no for-sale sign up over there. I don’t know if I like the idea of these people moving. These people, by the way, are a couple with a couple of small boys, I believe. The guy bought a small TV from us when we had our tag sale and he seemed nice enough. Anyway, I hope they’re not moving, cuz it’s too close for comfort. Too close for potential trouble from new neighbors. The only time I had problems with these people was when I first moved in here. They had a black and white dog that yipped its ass off. The problem with this house is that they don’t have a block wall running around its back and sides like we do. They’ve got a chain-link fence which means if there was a dog over there, it could go right up to the front of the house at the side and bark out at the street all day and night like the one they had did (I’m surprised I haven’t heard more from these boys, though). So, if they leave and if new people come who are owners, there’s an 80% chance there’ll be a dog, and gone will be the peace from the living room. Especially at night. There are a couple of dogs somewhere across the street within a span of 8 houses or so, but they seldom bark and they don’t have loud or shrilly barks. And who knows how many kids there’ll be playing out front, since people out here usually use the front of their house for play and for sitting around gabbing and shit like that, and who knows what stereos they’ll have?

The people that have been there all along, though seem like the last family was - decent, friendly, and respectful of others. They don’t seem to be the selfish assholes we got next door.

Tom said they didn’t have anything really nice to sell. No dolls or anything like that. Mainly toys and furniture.

Later…

You could say that I’m not in a very good mood right now, that’s for sure!

Tom bought T-shirts so I could make up shirts for my nieces and Tammy with family pictures for Chanukah. He bought the iron-on sheets too, that claim to be better. They claim this kind’s better cuz you can peel them off when they cool so you don’t have to be rushed. The first one went on fine, but it was too easy. Just like with the CD-making. Sure enough, to make up for that easiness, I couldn’t get the rest on. Some wouldn’t go on at all and some would only partially go on. So, I’ll see if Tom wants to do it, but if not, we’ll just mail them a card.

Today has been horrendous as far as stereos go. It’s just been one after the other!

Tom saw the little clown next door sitting out front as if she was waiting for someone. Then an aqua-colored car (or some medium shade of blue) that I may or may not have seen before pulled in, then left.

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