It was a dead quiet weekend. No door slamming, no kids, even less barking. That’s because it was such an unusual Sunday full of nothing but rain. It could only rain on a Sunday afternoon cuz of Tom’s trying to finish that fucking roof! If he hadn’t been roofing, it would’ve been bright and sunny. Of course, God will make sure next weekend’s weather is just beautiful for the little animal’s birthday party.

Just when I think I’ve finally played Leak and Bucket for the last time, I have to do it all over again. A part of me wonders if this will ever end! I told myself the other day that once the roof was fixed, I’d never again take for granted having a solid roof over my head, but now I wonder if I’ll be paranoid for the next 5 years whenever it rains. The good and shocking part of it is that it didn’t leak in here. Water did drip through the unfinished parts of the roof into the attic where there were little tears in the tarp, but Tom went up and put buckets under those drips. The only new thing that appeared was a little strip of what looked to be a water stain seeping through a crack in the plaster in the living room. Tom, though, said he couldn’t find any moisture up in the attic and said that there was less than a teaspoon in each bucket he put up there. Not enough to cause that line, so was the line always there, and did I, who’s usually so observant, miss it?

I don’t know if I forgot to write this, but Tom buried Spot in one of Bunny’s old holes that needed to be filled in any way.

Backing up to Saturday. Saturday was cool and breezy too, but not like Sunday. Sunday was cold! You could see your breath in the air. Saturday posed a threat of rain too, and Tom didn’t exactly feel comfortable exposing the roof to work on it when it could’ve started raining. So we went way out of town to a hardware store just to waste our time. He was looking for some part for his nail gun, but the stupid male prick that worked there didn’t know shit. He was obviously having some problems with his son too, who kept calling him. The guy told his son that if he called one more time he wouldn’t be able to sit. So I joked with Tom about calling the store to ask if his son could still sit.

I wasn’t kidding when I said that something up there really wants to make it hard for me to get dolls. I really have to pay and go through a lot to get them. We were heading to the doll store since they’re closed on Sundays and Mondays, and oh my God! Phoenix is notorious for its constant construction that’s everywhere and I’m sooo fucking sick of it! We got held up in traffic for quite a while cuz they closed a part of the freeway. It felt like it took us 4 hours just to get to this goddamn store.

Both the Edie dolls were still there, but I was wrong about her price. I thought she was $30, but she was $40 just like Anne, and Tom said that was fine. They’re both Seymour Mann dolls. For the most part, the dolls in this store were boring. There was a doll that was rather unique and odd-looking, though. I wouldn’t want her, but she was cool to see for the sake of something different. It was just your typical doll with regular arms, legs, mouth, hair, etc., but she had lavender eyes!

That nice guy that works there whose name is Mark, so I heard, told me that it usually takes 7 weeks to make two dolls. I didn’t know the people in the classes got to make two. He said, though, that since it can get pretty addicting, some ladies have been with them for years. So I guess you can do all you pay for.

The Barbie dolls were about $20-$40. Most of them wore gorgeous dresses. That’s the problem - the really small dolls get the nice outfits, and the bigger dolls that I like get the outfits that aren’t as nice. Part of it is the difference between porcelain and Barbies. The Barbie doll’s bodies are whole bodies, but the porcelain ones have no bodies. The trunks of their bodies are just stuffing. There was, however, a porcelain doll that had most of her body, cuz she was a woman doll and she wore a gorgeous dress that didn’t cover as much as the girl’s dresses usually do. The dresses that go on the girl dolls aren’t as nice, of course, as the dresses that the women dolls get. There were some pretty fancy dresses on a few porcelain women dolls. One was dressed as a Vegas showgirl. One had such a fancy dress of such nice material and of jewels that she was $1000! I guess this is a new string of dolls, cuz I don’t remember seeing them before. Their faces and hair were boring, though, and they were all the same. Only the outfits were different.

Anyway, I’m hoping to get this gorgeous doll I saw with any Christmas money I get. She was beautiful! An angel doll of some sort with purple wings, a nice lavender dress, really long blond hair, and an elegant and graceful pose. She’s a shorter doll like Jessica and Sunshine and Lollipops at about 14”. Her face was nice, too. Just like Summer Dream, her head is turned to one side. The opposite side of Summer Dream’s, which means she’ll go perfectly where I plan on putting her.

After this fucking roof is finally done, I’m going to move my computer back into the back room. Not just so we can network our computers again, but so I can put the red table that was in the living room back in there. I’m gonna keep Summer Dream in the music room and I’ll probably keep Jessica in there, too. Bailey and Rapunzel will go back on the living room speaker and TV. On the red table, I was going to line up Edie, Anne, Sunshine and Lollipops, Patrice, and Angel.

Tom believed Patrice would come that day, too (Saturday). I thought there was a chance of it since I seem to be getting dolls in twos lately, but nope. I gotta be either asleep or out when dolls come, but Tom says today’s an unlikely day for a parcel post delivery to be made. If it were first class, that’d be different.

Ashton Drake sent us what was supposed to be a mini magnetic dry-erase board, but not quite. You have to wet a cloth to erase the writing.

All I saw at the freeloader’s all weekend was a white car with a rack of some sort on its trunk. I went into the music room and heard a beat going and was like, shit! I knew it was just a matter of time before we’d hear from them, but I didn’t have a vibe about this weekend. I expected a ruckus next weekend. Then I realized it was the heartbeat I switched to in place of the stereo. Since this fan is softer than the last one, the heartbeat on my sound spa can be heard, and I like it so much better than the stereo cuz this beat is steady.

I got rid of “Mystery’s world” on the computer since the whole computer is my world now. I put the stuff that was in Mystery’s world into the start/program area.

I also paired up some journal pictures. That birthday wallpaper message turned out to be quite a present. I didn’t know this, but in the WinDraw program I use a lot, you can select a screen size background and make what you want on it. I made two collages of my favorite Gloria pictures and one of Norah’s. Then I paired up some of my journal covers to lessen the number of files I have. After I touch those up a bit, I’ll pair some family pictures.

Andy, who just has to do the opposite of what you ask him and who doesn’t always give a shit about what you’d prefer, just couldn’t wait till we talked live to tell me the rain he was driving through was mixed with snow. Yeah, it snowed in Vegas. Meanwhile, in New England, they’re having this unbelievably mild weather. They were even in the 70s! The 70s in November!! That’s quite a record.

Kim also called and is all moved into her apartment in Northampton with Walter. They’re in a two-family house. They have the top two floors. She’s got big rooms with hardwood floors. It’s a two-bedroom apartment and it’s $900 a month! Jesus! That’s the northeast for you. Especially Northampton.

Anyway, I guess Walt’s conveniently decided he wants kids. They’re gonna get married and be trying for a kid over the next year or so. I just hope Kim doesn’t get burned by him not doing his part in making the kid or by him leaving when the kid’s born if it’s born. That’s what I wonder. Would God give such a wonderful person whom I know would make a great mom a kid? She has the looks for it, that’s for sure. I hope she gets what she wants, though.

I called Tammy back Saturday morning. Mark and she are remodeling the hell out of her place. She was really nice in asking how my birthday went and she was happy about what I got/am getting, even though it’s not what she’d want. She’s gotten better at listening to me about my interests, whereas in the past she didn’t really care unless it was something she could relate to.

I spoke to Lisa too, and as usual, she’s not doing very well. She’s happy she’s lost weight. She’s gone from 152 pounds to 120 pounds, but now she’s into pot and acid. Great! Just fucking great! I’m glad I’m not destined to have a kid.

It’s almost scary to see how closely her life is like mine was, although I didn’t get into acid. I try not to compare us, but it’s something you can’t miss. Like I said, the only thing that’s different is her seeming to be as straight as an arrow so far anyway, and her interest in meteorology. Makes me wonder if she’s sterile and if she too, will go through years of depression over not being able to have a kid. I hope I’m wrong, and if not, I hope she doesn’t want one anyway, and therefore, doesn’t mind sterility. I don’t know about her or Sarah having kids, but I’ll bet you all my journals that Becky will be a mom someday. She already looks like a mom. She’s got God’s qualifications on that one totally. It’s like God has a fixation with homelier and plain-looking ladies becoming mothers. There are a few good-looking mothers, but they’re one in every 10,000.

She swears she hasn’t talked to Larry in over a month, but you know I can’t trust one thing she says anymore.

I still can’t call for the uterus test since I’m still only spotting. I wish my fucking rag would hurry up and start!

I fear my pap was too bloody to read and that’s why there are still no results posted for me on that voice messaging thing. If so, that’ll really piss me the fuck off, cuz this is why I went straight to a GYN in the first place, and I told her so. The whole idea was to avoid having to play the repeat pap game.

I’m hurt and angry with Tom right now, but not as hurt and as angry as I should be. Perhaps the reasons I’m not more hurt and angry are cuz I don’t want a child and cuz this is nothing new. It’s not like I just found out how abnormal our sex is and that he’s lied about sex and having a kid. I should’ve known that he’d eventually resort to bold lying and say he’s been cumming regularly when that’s pure bullshit. A lot of people are like him - they just deny what they want. So long as it can only be suspected and not literally proven in the way that you can prove it’s either light outside or dark.

Kim once told me she couldn’t tell if a guy came in here, but what Tammy told me is what I’m sure most women would tell me - that they can tell when their man cums. They ask rape victims if their attacker came. Why would they ask that unless they knew she could tell? There’s always been a distinct difference to me when Tom’s cum. When he cums, the sheets under my ass are soaked and so are my inner thighs. It feels as if I wet the bed when he cums. When he doesn’t, I don’t feel any different. Yet he has the bold nerve to tell me he cums 7-8 out of 10 times.

So I was right, after all, about how this infertility thing would play out. He probably figured I’d be fixable and that I’d let them fix me and leave getting pregnant up to God. Then he’d let them have his cum for testing which he has full control over, then he’d just come home and make sure he very rarely cums with me and that if he did cum, it was at a safe time. As to why I never would’ve ended up pregnant? Just because, he’d say. Just because that happens sometimes for no apparent reason. The doctor, he knows, would support this too. So that way he could’ve escaped having to deal with why he’s too afraid to cum, and why I didn’t get pregnant.

The man just doesn’t want to cum. Period. He told me he was gonna tell me from now on whether or not he cums, cuz he’s sick of how I “test” him (by his not correcting my comments about how he cums regularly, when we know damn well he doesn’t). I told him that that’s up to him. It’s not if he cums that I care about. It’s if he lies about it that I care about. He also told me that sometime in 1998 he began cumming regularly cuz of how we were able to get him inside me regularly, and cuz of the wonderful friction he feels now that he’s on top. First of all, he’s been on top for a while now. Second of all, he said sex is an emotional thing for him and not a physical thing. Lastly, he’s the one that refused to go inside me at times in the past. He’s the one that just had to play his games. It’s all bullshit excuses as far as I’m concerned. I’ve thought about it and thought about it and there’s no way he could be cumming regularly. I’d give anything to be wrong about this, but I know without a doubt that I’m not. And besides, no guy that doesn’t want a kid, and whose wife doesn’t want a kid, is gonna go squirting in her pussy regularly. He even admitted he’d do what I wanted first when it came to that. Even if he did want a kid, which I know damn well he doesn’t, he’d still go along with my not wanting one first, and do what he had to in order to ensure that I got what I wanted, which is no kid.

Now, why couldn’t he have just come out and told me, “I don’t want a kid and you don’t either, so why don’t I just not cum? I’d rather not cum than have to have you go through the hassles of birth control. I can get off on my own if I need to. Meanwhile, you go on ahead with your testing and try getting the answers you want.”

I also expressed that I was mad at myself for not going to this doctor back in 1994 when I wanted a kid, knew I was sterile, and so I could’ve maybe avoided years of misery. I should’ve not worried about him like he tells me not to. He always tells me not to worry about him and to just take care of myself. Then he tried to make me feel worse by turning things around and saying that I was mad at him and that I was blaming him. Well, I don’t appreciate his putting being embarrassed to talk to the doctors about his not cumming over my needs and my depression. He preferred that I go through all that depression like I did than be cornered by a doctor about his not cumming and about his not doing something he doesn’t want to do. What would he have done? Gone in there back then and said, “My wife wants a kid and she wants me to cum, but I don’t want a kid and I don’t want to cum, either?”

Still, we could’ve worked things out years ago somehow, if he’d only had the balls to face it and deal with it without going into denial and getting into lying and all that.

I’ll bet you anything that he’ll start telling me, after sex, that he hasn’t cum now that he knows I know he’s only cum twice in 1998. He admits to not cumming during the roofing, though, cuz it was at that time that I hinted certain things to him and he kind of caught on and figured he better be more honest from here on out. So, since then he’s admitted he doesn’t cum. It’s nice to know Tammy’s 48-year-old man can still get off in the midst of doing all that physical work of remodeling, but my 41-year-old man can’t. He can’t mix sex with physical work. Gotta act like an 80-year-old man instead.

Like I said, I don’t care how the sex itself is. It’s the lying and the lame, bogus excuses I get tired of, but this shit just never ends. If you want a sexual relationship of any kind with Tom S, you have to take it part-time, half-assed, and with all the lame lies and excuses added in. Then he said, “I could tell you that you should give me the benefit of the doubt when I tell you I cum regularly, but I won’t. I’ll let you be you and I’ll be me.”

Meanwhile, I guess I’ll continue on with the testing even if it does me no good in the long run. Tom might change his plans since I mentioned figuring that he’d let them have his cum for testing. He may refuse to let them have any now. If that’s what happens, then he can deal with this doctor alone about his not cumming if he wants to, but me? I’ll be out of there and permanently done with this whole fucking issue. It’s no wonder I don’t want a child anymore with this man. Not just because I don’t want the responsibilities and burdens of a child, and not just because I don’t want my life and freedom taken away by a kid, but because I’m so fucking sick of the whole subject that it sickens me. I just hope to hell I never go back to wanting a kid because both God and Tom would never allow me one.

Also, he’s been punishing me by not having sex with me all weekend.

What else could he be lying to me about? Is there anything else that’s not so obvious as this one that he’s been putting me on about? I’m just so confused. I don’t know who to trust or what to do, think, or believe anymore.

My lower teeth are enjoying their last moments of freedom. Got up at 2 AM. A little earlier than I’d like to have gotten up since I won’t be seeing Melie till 1:30, but I’ll live.