10 more views from CH and I’m still not sure who it is. Maybe it really is me it’s tracking or a bot.

Had a strange dream and a scary dream, but first, Tom showed me how to shoot vids, so I’ll play around with the software a bit and eventually share some cute rat vids. The rats that never shut up when I’m trying to work. Right now one of them is chewing on a peach pit.

As I may’ve already mentioned, I’m determined to start setting more realistic and doable goals for myself. Keeping active and eating healthy so I don’t gain any more weight is reasonable. Expecting to lose 30-40 pounds at this age is not.

My period is just days away so my energy levels are down and my hunger levels are up. Here’s where it’s easy for a woman to gain monthly weight that isn’t just water, so I have to just tough out the hunger. Most of it, anyway.

So why does my hair keep getting curlier and curlier with age? I have such tight spirals that they almost look like dreadlocks from a distance.

Tom made a 5-dollar profit on $10 worth of scratch tickets and is convinced that someone down the street has a workshop and that the sawing I heard wasn’t next door. He could hear them when he was out watering. I guess that would explain why I could barely hear it in the house. I could just make it out by the bedroom window, but not at the front of the house. It’s a good thing we’re not next to this house cuz that’d be insanely loud! I’m surprised they’d even allow that here. “People still have to have a life,” Tom said. Yeah, but should it extend beyond the walls of other houses? If it should, then I should be able to blast my music.

He met Jim, the 6:00 Man, as I’d call him, when he was out watering early.

Until God figures out a way to take it all away from us – no scratch that – until we grow old and die, there are a dozen positives for every negative to this place. I absolutely love not having to worry about running out of propane.

For the last few nights, I’ve been waking up hungry and having to pee. PMS hunger can be hard to curb and when you do it isn’t for long.

I’m too tired to write about the dreams now and why I hate September and October so much. I just want to eat, get in the shower, and get to work.

Later…

I’m pleasantly amazed by Nane’s “muah” and affectionate messages earlier. She was offline for a few days dealing with Internet issues. In a week she and Askim will be renting a house down in Turkey near Askim’s mom in a place called Kappadokia, or Cappadocia, as English speakers would spell it. So between being back online and her upcoming trip, she’s quite happy. Wish I could kick Askim out for a night, though I don’t know that I’d like being in TR. They have some beautiful beaches, but it’s Muslim country.

That’s 5 times I’ve had the runs, all pissing me off right along with the guy next door and his insanely LOUD blower. I still hate being so close to others, but if it wasn’t the guy’s blower 3’ away, it’d be some other guy’s motorcycle 200’ away. Still, why does it have to take a whole hour to blow such a tiny lot? He started right as I went to dust the bedrooms and I could hear it over the stereo. I turned it off and switched to the iPod, but I could still hear the damn thing. Finally, I had to switch to my around-ear headphones.

Not that this much is bothersome, but did they open up a new freeway recently or something? For the last few nights, I’ve noticed I can hear vehicles on the freeway that I never noticed before.

Really, really disappointed that I haven’t gotten any win notices. sighs Guess I’ll just have more free time for other things I’ve been planning for months if I continue not to win.

As much as I hate winter – even mild ones – I’ll feel better once it’s November. I hate September and October because it seems that that’s when most of the shit I’ve been through as an adult has happened.

September of 2000 was pre-sentencing on account of the white-hating freeloaders and their corrupt pig pal who worked for a corrupt system.

September of 2004 was when we lost our land in Oregon and it was on to 9 years of renting dumps (except for the duplex which, of course, was the noisiest).

September of 2011 was when they stopped our unemployment checks before having a job.

October of 2000 was when I was sentenced and lost half a year of my life to a vengeful pack of welfare bums with the wrong friends.

October of 2007 was our first of two survival scares, though the second one was far more critical.

October of 2011 was when the sick fucks in Arizona came at me online and tried to scare me into thinking the cops had built another “case” against me. It started to work at first, though I knew I had to have been framed again since I didn’t do anything wrong… until I realized all their mistakes.

So while I’m not overly nervous or anything like that, I’m being very cautious. We’re not spending money unnecessarily in case any surprises come up that need to be dealt with.

In last night’s strange dream, I was visiting Nane and I shopped at a mall while she went to work. She reminded me not to get anything I couldn’t fit in my suitcase. After she left I went to check out some shops, but they were all filled with Muslims playing Ping-Pong and pool.

In the scary dream I had, Tom and I were in the lobby of some big and busy hotel. He said there was a clinic across the street and that now (that evening) would be a good time to get me a checkup since he’d be tied up tomorrow.

Out we went into the cool rainy night and I said, “I never thought I’d say this, but this weather is a refreshing change after the constant heat and sun we’ve been having. He didn’t say anything. Instead, his and everyone else’s features seemed to disappear, making them all look the same and little more than shadowy human forms with a sinister air.

We entered a small building that was dimly lit and seemingly deserted. I was surprised anyone would see me that late, but Tom led us to a small room with a few chairs in it. We sat down and I momentarily closed my eyes and rubbed my face. When I opened my eyes again, the room was darker and Tom was gone.

I ran out of the room calling his name. When I got no answer I went outside to see if he decided to wait out there. There were 5 or 6 people chatting and smoking, but none were Tom. I ran back inside and into a large room near the “waiting” room. I began calling for help. I saw flickers of movement coming from a brightly lit room toward the end of the larger room, but no one came. I woke up crying for help and feeling lost, alone and rather worried.