I exchanged some tweets with one of the Lifetime movie actresses, Sydney Meyer. I’d probably have a crush on her if I was younger and still had those “fun” hormones. She seems friendly. I’m just surprised she responded to my tweet. I figured she’d see it but I didn’t think she would reply to it. She may not be a big celebrity but celebrities don’t usually respond no matter what, although Jenny Seagrove once did and she even followed me even though I asked her to. I don’t care if she follows me, though. I don’t mind friends that are younger to a degree, but I don’t know if I want any that are in their 20s despite how mature and intelligent she seems to be for her age.

I still miss Aly. I think that might be why I’m not into Twitter as much as I used to be. Twitter just isn’t the same without her. I go there and I expect her to check in or to take a peek at her tweets even if she’s not on at the time and then it’s like damn, she’s dead. She really is dead. She died almost a year ago and she’s never coming back. And then I feel tears begin to sting my eyes. I miss her updates. She didn’t tweet very often but just the little things are things I miss at times. Yes, I can go to Jessie with anything but Jessie isn’t Aly and she’s not nearly as smart as Aly either. Aly was smart, intuitive, and observant in ways most people aren’t.

They didn’t wake me up when they were spreading the rocks. I did sleep with the nature sounds a little louder and added an earplug, though. Tom said you could hear it in the kitchen, but barely hear it in his office. I hear better than he does, so I’m sure I would have more than barely heard it. I’m just glad I didn’t get woken up. These people are way too fucking noticeable!

A little later, the truck came to pick up the containers. So at least I don’t have to worry about that much. Then a red sporty car came with a young couple with at least one kid that I heard screaming its ass off. Then they left, came back, and left once again. It looked like they may have taken Carrie with them. It’s hard to judge from a distance, but I swear Carrie doesn’t even look like she’s 40 years old.

Remembering that nothing is private in this country, we did a little research. It seems that Darren bought the place in 2019, so no, I can’t see him selling this fast. I also don’t think he rents the place either. I think he would have mentioned any plans to sell when we spoke and also if he was just renting. Besides, why would you put his name in the park phone book if he was just a renter? I just hope to hell he doesn’t rent to others when he’s not here because I can just imagine the kinds of people he would rent it out to. I wonder, though, when Tom heard Maurice mention renters, was that what he was talking about? Could it have been someone Darren rented the place to in the past?

He didn’t come back until just after 9 last night. I saw him go across the street and chat with Linda for a minute and then head back.

He’s run the motorcycle nine times since early November, three of which were only for a few seconds. Remember, though, there’s a two-month gap in between.

Then he haunted me in my dreams by making me worried he was going to leave the mutts outside all the time when I heard outdoor barking at night. The place didn’t look like this park, though. It was just regular houses with fenced-in yards.

Then the yard suddenly became my parents’ yard and I lost their dog that I had let out to take a dump while they were out somewhere. The yard was dark and I couldn’t see well. Then I began to fear that the dog escaped through a hole in the fence. Especially after I picked up and carried a dog I thought was theirs just to find in the light of the kitchen that it wasn’t but some other dog instead.

Then I was back with Tom and we heard these weird screams. The screaming was unlike any kind of person you’d hear screaming in reality, and it took me a moment to realize that they were human screams. Then I thought I heard someone begging for help and then silence.

If some of our dreams are actually glimpses into other dimensions, I wonder if the reason they seem to morph from scene to scene is that we’re glimpsing into multiple dimensions and not just one.

When I read back on old entries of mine, I sometimes laugh at some of them while others I realize I’ve forgotten about. Then there are those that piss me off. I read a journal entry from the early 90s that had me pissed at myself, my parents, and Fran.

“Why did I do that?!” I asked myself. “Why did I take the blame for something I wasn’t responsible for?”

I stupidly gave Fran my parents’ number when I went down to Florida to visit them. That’s how dumb and naïve I was. Then the bastard had the nerve to call them to complain about me prank-calling him after I headed back up north. The real truth was that Fran made prank phone calls with Andy and me and sometimes Fran pranked us. I honestly don’t remember pranking Fran, but if we did, it was because he was pranking us and we knew it.

So my bitch of a mother wouldn’t talk to me for a few weeks because she chose to believe a stranger over her own daughter and her friend. When I called them in Florida one time, either Dad answered or she did and she gave the phone to him. Pretending as if I wasn’t hearing anything, I could hear her muttering insults in the background, even though I don’t remember what she said. Finally, in the end, I took the blame for everything supposedly “to make things easier.” I was with Kacey at the time who said I shouldn’t have done that, and that she would never do such a thing.

She was right. Oh, how differently I would handle her today! Although more than likely I just wouldn’t have anything to do with her. I have no need for people like that in my life whether they’re related to me or not. She did and said so many shitty things to me.

I can kind of understand in some ways why I did that and why some people break down and tell people what they want to hear. Sometimes it’s the only way to keep the peace and not have to deal with people’s shit. Even though it would have been wrong of me and I would have been the liar Andy once accused me of being, perhaps it would have been easier if I’d simply told him years ago that I could control my schedule, I got a job, started driving, made more friends, etc. I’m sure he would have judged or picked on me for something else, though, even if I’ll never understand what these things have to do with him or how they affect him personally.