Yesterday I had some random memories pop into my mind of my mother. One of them was about the way she would taunt me about my weight as a child. I have pictures throughout my entire youth yet where the hell was I “fat?” The only fat spells I had was a brief one when I was in my late teens, then after I quit smoking, and then when my thyroid crashed. But even at my fattest, I was never literally huge or anywhere near as big as she was. 

It never ceases to amaze me how full of hypocrites this world really is. Lonely is the one who picks on those who prefer not to have tons of friends. Poor is the one who picks on those who don't have much money. Fat and ugly is the one who picks on others for the way they look. Deceptive is the one who insists others are always bullshitting them. 

Another memory I had which I have written about in the past is definitely the worst memory I have pertaining to my mother. I don't remember exactly how old I was but I couldn't have been more than 10 or so. We were at the beach at our summer cottage when I decided that I would go on a starvation diet that also included not having any liquids. At that age, I sure as hell didn't know any better. 

On the second or third day of this “diet”, I awoke incredibly weak and unable to get out of bed. Our cottage was tiny and I called to my mother for help who sat in the next room playing backgammon with her best friend Charlotte. She refused to help me, saying that I got myself into that mess so I would just have to be the one to get myself out of it. I can tell you for damn sure that had that kitchen not been right off the bedroom I slept in, there's a damn good chance I may have died. I don't think she ever even realized just how much of a risk she took by carelessly ignoring my cries for help. It took me hours to muster up the strength just to jump up and grab a devil dog, which was the closest thing I could grab from the kitchen. Then it seemed to take me another hour just to open the damn thing and eat it. 

If she could materialize long enough I would absolutely torture her. Forget about all the other millions of things she put me through. I will never ever forgive her or the God above that sat back and allowed her to do the things she did to me. Must’ve been pretty fucking funny in His eyes. They say that when we go through shit in life it’s only God “testing” us. Yeah, how fucking tough do you think a 10-year-old kid is, you bastard?! How tough should she be? 

Well, if there truly is an afterlife where we all meet up with dead family members, and if there truly is a God, not even He can stop me from inflicting my own brand of hell should we meet beyond the pearly gates. 

My nieces are already having problems at their new apartment. Kids throwing sticks and balls at cars in the parking lot, I guess. I can just imagine the noise. 

In one dream I had last night, Tom and I went and got a bunch of rats. We assumed they were all male rats. Then it hit us that some could be females that could also be pregnant. We were wondering how we should handle all the babies and if we should just try to weed out whatever female rats we could find right then and there and return them to the store or what. 

In another dream, I might have won a house, but my dream self didn't seem to know for sure. Well, the dream didn't go on long enough for me to find out. Meanwhile, my parents were present – again – and I was trying not to get ahead of myself and let myself get all excited in case I was wrong. 

Later… 

They weren’t kidding when they said that keeping a journal could help us to see things more clearly later on down the road that may’ve flown over our heads when we wrote them. I’m not just referring to how naïve and stupid I could be when I was younger, but how utterly stupid I was when it came to Maliheh. *shakes head in disgust* When she finally contacted me in 2010, she said she hadn’t contacted me until then because she was instructed not to. At the time I took this to mean because I had told her not to contact me when I thought she was messing with me online before I learned it was someone else. I then apologized for accusing her and contacting her friends and told her I hoped to hear from her. Well, in hindsight – and I can’t believe I missed this knowing how vindictive she was/is – I can see that she probably went right on the legal defensive when I first contacted her about a book loosely based on us with a major twist of an ending. In blunt English, she was no doubt hoping to “get” me in some way being the totally unforgiving, hateful, spiteful person she can be, which means she probably consulted a lawyer who told her not to contact me (until the lawyer saw she had no case). 

She even paid to get a copy of the old police report, and of course, she stated “facts” when she first contacted me on the old MyOpera site that was totally false. Whether or not her memory was just messed up or she was intentionally lying, I do not know. All I know is that she asked me to dance the instant I walked into the place and not the other way around. She voluntarily gave me her number. I did not ask someone else for it. She kissed me on the cheek on the way out that night and not the other way around. My pranks to her went on for less than half the time she claimed they did. I never pranked her after I was summoned to court as she also claimed because I was too afraid to. Lastly, never did I order Fran to call and threaten her. If he did, he did that on his own and that was very wrong of him. The guy’s dead, so he can’t speak for himself. I can only speak for myself. 

So she states facts, half of which are incorrect or not quite right, then she goes on to make all these demands of me and I could really kick myself for being too nice and too forgiving like I was all in the name of how she looked. If anyone’s learned a lesson about seeing past some people’s beauty and into the coldness of their hearts, it’s me. Damn me for kissing her ass like I did! Really, I could kick myself for that and all because she was hot? Well, inside she was the cruelest, hateful, deceptive, mean, vengeful person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. Maybe she did come to care for me for a while – I don’t know. Only she knows that, but that doesn’t matter anymore. The fact is that she befriended me under false pretenses and that was to see to it that her name was kept out of the book, which it has been. 

That much I can see a person wanting. That much was pretty reasonable; wanting your name kept out of something someone might profit from, but who the hell was she to tell me not to use her name in my own damn blog? To what did she think I owed her that much anyway? And if she was oh so innocent all those years ago, then what was she so afraid of? Huh? What was she so afraid of? What did Little Miss Victim have to hide that she wanted her name kept out of this and kept out of that? And how could I have been so blind to see that that’s classic behavior of one who knows they did something wrong and wants to keep it hidden? 

Well, she can rest assured she’ll never be named in any past or future books of mine, but not mention her in my own damn journal? I don’t think so! She’s out of my life and I seldom refer to her, but that’s my right to do so as long as I keep it within the law! I have read up on blogger’s rights and there is nothing that says I can’t use first names. Nothing. I have two rules I always abide by – no full names or other sensitive info and no threats. If you’re not a friend of mine, I’m not going to cater to your privacy wishes. Period. There is no law that says we can’t use first names as long as it’s not a public figure we’re insisting we had some wild affair with or something like that. 

I’m sorry I let her appearance cloud my judgment. I normally see right through people’s bullshit. Had I not been so damn stupid where she was concerned, I could’ve seen what she was really after when she contacted me a few years ago, promising to always be my friend until she one day disappeared forever, realizing she’d gotten what she wanted and that I was no longer of any use to her. The dumb Jodi put up with her shit. The smart Jodi would slam the door in her face if she showed up here starving and homeless. She is just an absolutely miserable person that will no doubt continue to alienate people through her poor treatment of others, and I’m sure she still loves to use the law to get at those that piss her off, be it neighbors or anyone else. Probably still reads my blog here and there always looking for ways to screw me. *shakes head sadly* Some people are just born haters. I’m gonna end it right here. Thinking about her any more than I have to makes me sicker than sick. Why do some people hate themselves so much that they feel the constant need to make others just as miserable as they can, be it through the law or just by playing with their heads?