The Jes pest is almost just a memory and I’m wondering why the heavy period. So much for menopausal dreamin’.

I’m also wondering why I’m still Stephane’s only friend on Facebook. If it weren’t for a fellow VH sister confirming that she’s another “sister,” I’d be beyond suspicious. But why join FB just to friend only me, someone she never met? She was at VH from 1984-1986 and I was there from 1982-1984.

Poor Nane was sick, but will soon be off to enjoy a vacation in Spain!

I hope Alison’s doctor’s appointment went well today. The poor girl’s skin is all broken out and she’s lucky to get just 2 hours of sleep a night. Damn! I can’t even live on just 6, so I don’t know how she does just 2. Her last round of blood tests came back as “unusual,” so I worry about her. She herself says she doesn’t know how much more she can take. She’s been as cursed medically as we were financially.

At this point, I’m just hoping to hell there are no last-minute delays. Things have been running smoothly and on schedule so far which is pretty damn amazing for us, so that’s why I worry someone’s gonna throw a kink in our plans at some point. I hope not, though! It’s just that no one’s asked us for money yet and we can’t get in the house till we make the down payment. The loan lady said everything’s fine, so I guess we should just trust her and assume she knows what she’s doing.

Why has life been so good to us lately anyway? I wonder. I know we deserve this compensation after the hell we went through for so long, but still, I’m not used to things going this well for this long and I tend to get a little suspicious when they do. I suppose I should just shut up and enjoy it! If the shit’s gonna hit the fan again at some point, and if there really is a God that’s pissed off at what we’re doing and is going to “punish” us with breakage or health issues, there’s nothing we can do about it now.

I laugh to myself when I read back on some of my old journal entries. Damn, was I naïve! Back when I didn’t always talk right, sometimes by choice when I’d alter words, I then saw it as cute, creative and funny. But like most people when they get older, what I once saw as cute now seems immature. Sometimes it still brings humor to me (if not convenience) to either abbreviate or alter words amongst friends and whatnot, but if I were reading a journal like mine from the 80s and 90s I wouldn’t take them very seriously or consider them very bright. I guess that the more serious I became about writing, the less I wanted to sound like I was in my teens or 20s, unless it’s a character in one of my books that’s that age or something.

The growing illiteracy rate and poor spelling, grammar and punctuation are still alarming. Especially when people are looking for love or jobs where the last thing you want to come off as is some dumb-ass, uneducated person from the slums. As a writer, though, you tend to not only hate it when you make a typo, but you notice the errors of others more and are more annoyed by such things, especially when the writing is so bad you can’t even understand them or you have to read whatever it is they wrote a few times just to get what they’re trying to say.