Last night I visited my sister and the girls in my dreams, but they were all still living in Connecticut. Sarah was over 6 feet tall, LOL. I was standing on a step somewhere and commenting on how she was still a lot taller than me. 

Back in 2000, Tom started getting chest pains so he went to the doctor to get it checked out. He was diagnosed with exercise-induced asthma. I just looked up its symptoms and I don't have the other symptoms that go with that. Tom does, though. I don't cough, wheeze or get short of breath or feel out of shape despite being in good physical condition. 

I had a little discomfort after today’s workout but am pretty sure it’s not heart-related. This time it was on the right side, lasted longer and didn’t feel sharp and cramp-like. I will sometimes feel it if I move a certain way so that’s got to be a pulled muscle. 

Someone just drove by playing their music a bit too loud. *sighs* I thought we were done with that shit? Well, if I see that car regularly, I will be headed down the street. I’m not going to tolerate that shit here. I swear I’m not. And I don’t care what kind of connections they may have either. 

Anyway, before my train of thought was rudely disrupted, I was going to say that Tammy said that Larry did have heart problems. I didn’t know this. Not sure how serious it was, though, or if he was on medication. I guess that answers my question as to whether or not his heart would have gotten him in the end if the liver cancer hadn’t. 

My weight is strange but inconclusive. Meaning that the 4 pounds I lose during the weeks after periods that started to come back are back off again, and while it’s a little unusual for me to be this low 11 days before a period, it’s not enough to assume the meds have boosted my metabolism back up to normal. I need another 2-4 weeks to know for sure, what, if anything, is going on. 

Later… 

Fucking mother-fucking blacks! Everywhere we go. EVERYWHERE! I saw a black car with music blasting head down the circle and said to myself, “Bet it’s black and going to where the blacks live. Sure enough, a few hours later it blasted back out and I saw the blackie with my own two eyes. So it’s no longer an assumption, knowing how loud, rude and obnoxious the vast majority of them are. Oh, but please don’t tell anyone I said so! Wouldn’t want to be called a racist even though the problem is THEM and not their color. 

I tried to tell myself, who cares? It’s no louder than a delivery truck, so why does it bother you? Because it’s rude, that’s why. It’s not only a reminder of the shit I went through in the past, it’s wrong. Just plain wrong, unnecessary and uncalled for. Just because granny may be too deaf to hear it, well, I can. And it’s just one more rude and needless distraction, so that’s why it bugs me. I shouldn’t have to know it every time this punk visits just because he’s got security issues and doesn’t feel it’s getting enough attention in life. 

But like it or not, he is black and this isn’t the 50s. I can’t just go complain and risk them crying discrimination on me, knowing damn well that they’ll be the ones to automatically be believed, and then things could get worse for me. They take things so damn personally and act like the most simple, reasonable request is utterly rude, unfair and downright outlandish. I can’t take a chance. I know I shouldn’t give a shit what they cry and I know this isn’t Phoenix, they’re not welfare bums, and even if they’re friends with every pig on the local force, they probably wouldn’t spite me for complaining. Worst case it just wouldn’t do me any good. Blacks are some of the most defiant fuckers on earth. Push them left and they tug right. 

If they were white I’d go directly to them, but I wonder if I should either leave a note on their door late at night instead simply saying: Please ask your visitor in the black car not to play music so loud upon coming and going. 

I’m not sending a letter by mail. I’m not going to pay to ask them to do the right thing. We lost enough money to the blacks of the ’90s. 

Why would these shits want to live here anyway in a place that’s predominately white and that’s supposed to represent peace and quiet, which means respecting your neighbors and having your company do the same. Really, it’s their company so shouldn’t they be responsible for them? 

My only other concern with leaving a note is them going door to door to try to find out who left it. I wouldn’t want Tom to know, should they come by when he was home. Retirement community or not, older and non-welfare or not, they’re likely to get pissed, not understanding. 

*sighs* I’m just so sick of getting Mexicans and blacks on every city street I ever lived on, and yes, it’s because of their BEHAVIOR. I shouldn’t give a shit what others think or how people are going to handle things and take a stand for what I know is right, but for now, I guess I’ll just be glad the fucker doesn’t live here and doesn’t come around every day. Really wish others would speak up too, for once, but maybe they did and their request fell upon deaf ears… unless I anonymously complained to the office. Really, I should NOT have to be dealing with this shit in a retirement community!