There are a lot of things that Tom’s better at than I am, but making pancakes isn’t one of them. He trashed the kitchen making the damn things. But I, who can’t keep her paws off the stuff he buys that I don’t put on the list, and that’s usually not very healthy, make them without making such a mess. I cook them well too, and make them all about the same size.

I’m psyched to say that I finally heard from Paula! Tom brought a letter home from her yesterday, which had her new phone number in it. This was the longest letter she ever wrote, too. Her grammar is not great, but she spells pretty well. I dig how she started off: Dear Jodi – best friend.

She’s been in the same apartment in Chicopee for a record-breaking year and says she’s still waiting for Section 8 or some kind of housing.

I was right about suspecting she lost my number, but I gave it to her when we talked. She asked me once again to try to find a couple of guys online, but I let her know we were ditching the Internet.

I was surprised when she asked - how did you get in all that mess? What happened? What charges did you get? I was like – aren’t you reading my mail? She said she got confused by all the abbreviations I use in her letters, so I let her know I wouldn’t use initials and abbreviations anymore.

She contradicted herself a handful of times. Not intentionally or cuz she just doesn’t care what she tells people which is the case with most people, but just because this is the way Paula is – unable to focus. She said on the phone that she just started a computer training course, yet in her letter, she said she wasn’t going for that till November. She also said there’s no man in her life now. Just that black cop John. Yeah, and I haven’t eaten anything today. Just a sandwich, some soup, some pancakes, and popcorn!

She said she got a computer, but no Internet or printer. Soon she’ll send pictures.

Any CDs I don’t want, send to her. Also, she’ll send me some money to make her tapes of rap music. I told her not to bother sending money and that I’d make her tapes off the satellite. They have a rap channel. I made a tape up already and will send one at a time. That way I can use regular envelopes. She said she likes soul music too, but there’s no soul station. She said she has 5 dolls sitting in her closet. I let her know I’d gladly give them a home if it’d be OK with her.

She said her friend is in prison for 3 years. He’s in for drugs.

She asked how my diet is going and says hers is going well. Then why is she up to 170? The last time we talked, she said she was around 150.

On November 14th she’ll be having surgery for stomach adhesions.

I also talked to her son Justin who’s now 9 years old. We mostly talked about his coin collection. He asked me to send pictures of tarantulas and diamondbacks, and I assured him I would as soon as I could get shots of them. I enclosed his own letter, along with one for Paula, in the envelope containing the first rap tape.

Later...

Tom’s home now, eating the chili mac I made him before he got in.

I had begun typing him a note before he got in, letting him know that I don’t want to screw till after the 30th due to the doubled predictability involved. It’s predictable enough to know he wouldn’t cum (which puts a damper on my cumming) even if we were rich and had nothing going on, but another to really know it with all we have going on, cuz sterile or not, we have to take responsibility and make sure that he doesn’t cum, like it or not, as long as we don’t know if I’m going to jail, and as long as we’re broke and don’t know what’s going on with Mary. I don’t like the 2-minute quickies with all its limitations and restrictions. I want to wait until we can let our guards down and not have to be so cautious. After we take care of Mom, Mary, the courts, and get a little more stable financially, then we can screw, unless he insists we keep up on it anyway. I told him, If I don’t hear any protests from you, I’ll assume you’re OK with this plan, and remember, I can get you just as hard by hand as I can with my crotch, so if that’s all you need anyway, then feel free to ask me for handjobs along the way. For a while, I was comfortable with our routine, but for now, I can’t screw when each session feels so planned, mapped out and predictable. I need a little more spontaneity, surprise and variety.