Dec 1999

12-2-1999

We're at the Southgate motel now, after I swore Tuesday night I'd never stay at a hotel/motel again. I'm only here cuz Tom's still got a cold, although he told me he'd be OK either way. That's sweet of him, and I know how flexible he is, but still, I thought he deserved the comfort of a real bed and a real bathroom.

This room we got is also on the 2nd floor, but we got two doubles instead of a king, and it doesn't have a microwave and a fridge.

Boy, am I the opposite of how I was those last couple of years back east health-wise. Back then, I'd just look at someone with a cold and catch it, but now, even if I'm confined in small spaces with someone with a cold, and even if I share their drink with them, as I did with Tom, I still don't catch colds! I'd have definitely gotten it by now if I were gonna get it. The only thing I have is the usual tightness God's forever cursed me with, although it's improved since leaving Phoenix, and will continue to improve once we don't have to drive through it as much when we get in that house for once and for all! I did tell Tom from the get-go, though, that I vibed us not being able to move in till between my b-day and Christmas. When we went to make our first house payment, we were happy to hear that the loan people have refused to pay Steven and his associates a dime, cuz the work hasn't been completed yet. They now have a 12/24 deadline, or else! We totally regret using Steven (we used him cuz we knew we'd lower our monthly payments by avoiding buying the house directly), although anyone you hire is gonna fuck up in one way or the other. People are just too damn stupid. We're still fighting tooth and nail trying to get the well driller out there, and God only knows the story with APS, although Kathy, whom we've been dealing with, came out and replaced our red tag with a green one.

When we arrived at the land yesterday, we were pleased to see the dumb shit driving our storage bin finally found our place after three phone calls asking for directions and even more pleased to find our stuff intact! I was really sure that a lot of stuff would be smashed with the way they tip the bin. Tom packed it well.

We also got the bedroom and living room sets delivered yesterday, too. The living room set came first. I had to send back the three tables cuz they were bent and broken, but as it turns out, I'm glad they were! In this particular room, three tables would've been too much. Especially with how monstrous the sofa, loveseat, and chair were, which I'd forgotten. The chair's almost as wide as a loveseat, the loveseat's nearly as long as a couch, and the couch is a couch and a half!

So, we'll be going back there to select just two tables. One big one to serve the couch and loveseat and a small one to put by the chair. I have the chair against the utility wall, the couch in front of the windows, and the loveseat sticks out facing the chair with its back by the kitchen in front of the bar and entryway. It fits nicely, though, without blocking our path.

The bedroom furniture people arrived while the people with the living room stuff were still there, so Tom had the bedroom stuff plopped down. The living room guy offered to give us a hand, which we didn't but should've taken him up on, cuz it was a bitch to get up in there, and they rudely used us as a dumping ground. I didn't see it till it was too late, but they left a big empty box out front.

Anyway, we managed to get the dresser and nightstand in. They look great, too!

At first, when I looked at our very black living room furniture against the blue carpet and the whitewash and the tulips and everything combined, I thought it didn't look as good as I thought it'd look and wondered if it would've looked better with a light-colored fabric, but black really does go with everything, even if it's dramatically darker than everything else around it, and it's so dazzling and so comfy!

We were scheduled to have the dining room set, stools, and spider lamp delivered today, but they wouldn't have been able to bring it out till after we were planning on leaving, so he called and rescheduled it for next Thursday.

We stopped at Walgreens on our way here, and I got a picture frame in a water globe with glittery stuff that floats around. They call it a waterfall photo frame.

I also got some nail art kits. I decided I don't want some of the decals I got, so I'm enclosing those, and glitter from a vial of glitter that'll make a hell of a mess, in the black bitch’s final piece of mail from me. Yeah, I thought she could use one more wacky, you-had-a-lot-of-nerve-to-do-the-things-you-did kind of letter. I figured I oughta use my nice stationery some more, and that's why the moochers that bought our old house are gonna hear from me, too, but they should've gotten their letter by now. The other reason I wanted to come here, besides allowing him to be more comfortable, was so I could mail the Mexican's mail without his knowledge. The Hs’ letter implies I'm the next-door neighbor, but I don't come out and give any specific identity. I start by bitching about all their barking dogs, scolding them for vandalizing our place, then weird out on them with the senseless mumbo-jumbo.

12-3-1999

It has become absolutely freezing! It was not only just 50-something degrees today, but it was also incredibly windy. However, since it became wintry, the barking has lessened so much that at sundown you hardly hear anything at all. Well, we'll definitely be in the house long before the weather's comfortable enough for them to go off for a few hours in the evenings.

I still have yet to write about all the noise I had to put up with at the Fairfield, but let's just say that this time around, I had them thrown out. I'll write about it later, but first, the Southgate was again dead and quiet. We're at the trailer now, though.

12-5-1999

My 34th birthday, which was yesterday, wasn't pleasant for the most part, but neither are most of my birthdays. I don't know if it was my gut instinct or just logic, but somehow I knew he'd be tense and moody. I feel like he uses my birthdays to take out any negative feelings he's ever had towards me. What's he gonna do when his birthday rolls around? Bait me into a fight so he can feel like he has an excuse to "get me back" on my next birthday? Well, if I'm right about what he's been up to, it's childish and getting very old.

Before I continue - I've been up since 6:30 and haven't had a bite to eat all day! Yeah, but I'm gonna have a bag of popcorn later.

Anyway, on my birthday, we went to the grocery store to get the 13 dolls I had in mini storage, and to those southwestern shops in Scottsdale. They had a fairly decent-sized Indian doll for just $50 and lots of beautiful knickknacks. For my birthday, he got me a beautiful vase with cactuses and gold lines threading through it.

Our stay at the Southgate was quiet, but what is it with these housekeepers calling to see if you've checked out yet? Shouldn't they have this information in their charts?

Let me cover the shit that went down last week at the Fairfield and get that out of my system. It was 9:00, and I was just about to settle in to watch a new movie when all of a sudden, I heard a ton of banging and kids giggling. At first I thought it was coming from next to us, but Teresa, a nice girl who works here, said it couldn't be after she talked to him. It was just one older guy. Back in our room a little later, Tom had woken up and said it sounded like it was coming from above us on the 3rd floor. So I called down to Teresa, and sure enough, there were four kids up there, and these people had already been complained about and moved before. That's right, God, sic 'em on top of me! Why does he always sic them on me in fours? Four NHA monsters, four Mormonettes, etc.

Teresa had to call them twice to get them to shut up, and they were quiet for a while till they woke me up at midnight. This was the final straw. I called downstairs and this time, the guy whom I bitched to about that old biddy answered, and I told him that they had to go and that I wanted the cops called and that I wanted them out. He said OK, and they obviously were really booted out, cuz there wasn't a sound after that.

12-7-1999

I just knew today would be a good one. I had good vibes for this day for a week or two. We spontaneously stopped in the casino to try out their buffet (at least I knew I could be guaranteed no screaming kids in there!). Then we gambled, and he won about $40, and I won $30. I psyched out winning machines and then sensed it when I could win no more. I always sense it and know when I'm gonna win/lose. For $38 (there's no tax on the reservation), I got a cute little 14" brown-haired, brown-eyed ballerina in a blue satin dress with white tutu. Her hair is to her waist and is a cross between wavy and curly. She came with no stand and no name, so I named her Linda. She's very similar to my Christina doll, but rather than having lace-up toe slippers, she's barefoot. I plan to polish her toenails. As my shit doll luck would have it, I have to glue on a couple of flowers that fell off the ribbons that go around her ankles, as well as her fairy wings. She has a halo of blue flowers around the crown of her head.

For $14, I got an Arizona T-shirt with cacti and a shiny gold border on a deep magenta background.

At the buffet, they had some Chinese food. As always, I grabbed a fortune cookie and with it came a rather ominous message that says: Children's laughter, so beautiful to hear, soon will be a chance to have them very near.

No thanks! Their laughter is not so beautiful to hear and I don't want a chance to have them very near. I'd had them very near for nearly a decade now, which is more than enough, thank you. I'm not worried, though. I know God has other plans for me in life and that kid(s) is not in my destiny. I may've been wrong about marriage, quitting smoking, etc., but I know I'm not wrong about this, even though Tom feels it's inevitable just like he did with the smoking.

Last Sunday, after unpacking several boxes, we went and stayed at the Fairfield (I did our laundry, too). Teresa wasn't working, but Kim, another one we've gotten to know (we know the whole staff), was kind enough not to put anyone near us. I explained what happened the last time, and asked that she please be selective about who she puts near us if she could help it. We ended up being on the 3rd floor for the first time in this place, right in the very room those wild animals were in. It had a really cool 20' high ceiling, which made sounds echo. No wonder they were so damn loud. Anyway, it turned out to be their best room yet. I never heard one sound all night.

We're at the Southgate now.

12-8-1999

Tomorrow we're expecting the kitchen set, the stools, and the spider lamp. That's great, but when, oh when, are we ever gonna get water and electricity?!?! I keep insisting to Tom that we're never gonna get a well, so we may as well start hauling water. We'll probably have to fill in the septic ourselves, too, which has been inspected and OK'd.

When the fuck are we ever gonna get those two sets of stairs we were promised? When the fuck are we ever gonna get in that damn house?!?!

Steven, who's really lied to us and fucked us over, "claims" he fired Hilda. Then he swore he called the well driller, after swearing he didn't know we'd been living in motels, and got on his ass about getting us drilled, but even this cock's a fucking liar. He said he'd drill the well "as soon as we got our permit." God, how I hate people who say they're gonna do something they don't do!

It's a real bitch stepping up on our little step ladder, then taking the gigantic step up into the house. You have to pull yourself up there.

In case I forgot to say—our AC is a ground-mounted unit, right outside the utility door.

I'm just so fucking sick of people screwing us over; being all talk and no action! I keep telling Tom he's too soft-spoken with these people, then we argue over how my getting aggressive with these fucks will do us no good. It's stressful and frustrating, even if my worst days since being out here are still fantastic compared to an average day back east, but still, I feel evil forces working against us, as well as blessed ones. It's like first God's with us by letting us sell our house so fast, even if we had expected to get out of there 4–6 months sooner than we did, and now, it's like he's teasing me with this house. I feel like this preparing to move and this trailer/hotel shit has been going on for years. Well, I mentally "prepared" to move six years ago, but still—when is this gonna end? I just want in the house! I try to remind myself how much worse things could be by remembering the past, and I tell myself to be glad that at least I have Tom and the house is here and at least we're out of Phoenix, but I don't feel it half the time. Although I have a beautiful house and 10 gorgeous acres, God won't let me out of the city! Every other day or two we have to go back so we can shower, and once again—I'm stuck in the city! Stuck with all the noise and people. Stuck where everyone makes their business your business.

God really wants me to finish this decade with other people's noise. It's like the decade's not out yet, so he's not finished with me yet. But what's he gonna do next? What's the next decade's ongoing issue gonna be that's gonna take 8–10 years to either go away on its own or for me to fix? Why must I pay so dearly for this house? Can't I ever receive something without conditions? Why must I be punished and made to suffer just so I can live a normal life in this house and on this land (or as close to normal as God will allow and I'll be happy with)?

There is some good news, although it's not really good news, cuz it's been cold, and cuz they just moved in, but behind us has still been quiet. Again, I don't think they're living here full-time any more than we are.

What I'm trying to figure out, though, is all this being delayed from getting into the house, being screwed by Steven and his people, and having to play motel, punishment for leaving Phoenix and a house of noise? Compensation for getting the house/land? Or a sign of something good to come? Could we be going through all this hassle only to be soon compensated for something wonderful? Well, just getting in that fucking house would be wonderful enough!!!

Speaking of that house, I put some dolls up on top of the kitchen cabinets, and they look really cool. I had to put them mainly on the cabinets toward the middle of the house where the ceiling's high enough for them, cuz the ceiling's just a few inches above the cabinets on the exterior wall.

Now that I know more about how dolls are made, I was able to fix some arms and legs that I thought were defective or just the way they were. Take Maria, for example. Well, I didn't know she could be a sitting doll like Bailey, but she can and she is now, and she looks so much better. Before, she had an odd pose and was neither a sitting doll nor a standing doll, but more like a leaning doll that was very pigeon-toed.

I repositioned Angel and Lollipop's arms.

I can't wait to get back to the casino. We're gonna win the next time, too. I just know it. How interesting for me to vibe this before going there. Usually, I don't sense whether we'll win or lose until we arrive at the casino. It won't be millions, but it'll be more than a few bucks.

Gosh, I didn't think I could get in such a writing mood with all the shuffling around and with all the BS I've been through, but I guess after not writing nearly as much as I usually do and having been wanting to do it, it caught up to me.

It hasn't rained since late August–early September, and they say our first rain in months is due to hit this weekend. Can't wait to check out the wash during a rainstorm. Tom thinks it'll be a doozy, too, and it oughta be neat to see a little river cascade through our land.

If you ask me personally, I'm glad the weather's been like it's been in light of our circumstances. This way I'm not sweating my ass off as I go back and forth to the trailer/house and while I work in the house. It also keeps dogs quieter and flies, moths, and other flying bugs to a minimum.

We finally met our neighbors to our left. Well, he did. I was in the house and didn't even know they'd met (that's how big our property is)! Till he told me about it. As we were driving in earlier, we noticed five huge dogs by their shacks, which were a bit scary. To say there are a lot of loose dogs around here is an understatement. Anyway, they drove up to the trailer to talk to Tom, and they asked if they were our dogs. First, the grandmother introduced herself, her daughter, and her grandson. (I forgot if he said the son-in-law was present.) So he told them we'd seen them, and she said they killed a chicken of theirs, but that by the time she grabbed her gun, they were gone (too bad!).

He said she looked white, but the kid and daughter may be Mexican. Or did he say the kid's father? Anyway, it figures. It really figures. He did say they seemed like nice people, though, and we're glad to have met them since we were both curious, but what would they have done if he'd said they were our dogs? Shoot us?

I guess I'm not gonna be hearing about Joeshit's and the Hs’ letters, but I kind of figured as much deep down. What could I hear about them?

I called Andy twice from the Southgate, but the first time I dropped the damn phone and never heard what he was saying, so I just hung up in the middle of his babbling. When I called back, he picked up and said, "Rock and roll star you are," and I hung up.

Speaking of the Southgate—it was not peaceful like the first two times we were there. It was just like a regular hotel with hallways. There was a lot of banging, and while it wasn't chock-full, it wasn't as dead as usual, either. Some little shit slammed its door nearly on and off till late at night. Amazingly, I slept straight through from midnight till 8:00 like I did, although at 8:15 the banging started up again. The housekeeper was the cause of some of it. We left before they could begin to pester us to clean the room. As I said, DO NOT DISTURB signs are useless out here. If they can't go to your door, they call you and bug you by phone.

Anyway, right after Tom left at 11:00 for work, I called the nearby rooms that were occupied, knowing one or both of them had to be doing the banging. There was no one to our right, but there was to our left and below. I called below first and said, "Stop slamming that door!"

"What?" said the middle-aged to older guy in such a stunned voice.

"Sit down, shut up, and quit slamming doors," I said and hung up.

As soon as the cock to my left answered, I said the same thing. As soon as I finished, I hung up after hearing him say, "Who the f..."

I obviously really scared the shit out of them cuz they wouldn't answer in the morning, yet their cars were still there.

12-9-1999

About an hour ago, we arrived here at the Fairfield. Teresa's on tonight, and she put us in a more secluded room on the 3rd floor and says she'll look out for us as far as who she puts where. She said all four of those rooms (so that was connected to the guy that came in requesting four rooms. I remember thinking to myself—That's a lot of fucking kids!) turned out to be scammers, and she wishes she had called the cops on them. They rang up their phone bills and stole everything out of the rooms. Yeah, I believe it. And I doubt very much they were retards coming for treatment. Why would they have to come here? They can get treatment anywhere. I think they were a bunch of Mexicans out for handouts, just like they usually are.

Another thing that annoys me when we stay in hotels is Tom and his goddamn TV. He and TV are like glue, and it's hard for me to read or write with it going. I'm forced to listen to it, too, and you know I hate TV with their same old, same old shit that's always on. I looked at the HBO guide earlier, and I swear that everything listed was the same old shit they've been running for the last decade.

Earlier, our kitchen set, stools, and spider lamp were delivered.

As I predicted about a month ago, we're not getting a well. This fucking driller's put us on hold and made his false promises long enough. We don't know yet who's gonna be filling in the septic, but I'm sure it's gonna have to be us since no one seems to want to do anything for us. We are getting so fucked over, and God's so oblivious to it all, making me feel like he couldn't care less, and always feeling like I have to pay dearly for all the things I get in life. He's been totally ignorant of all my pleas for help, so now we're on our own with no one to help us but ourselves. There'll be no stairs, either, like we were falsely promised.

Tom's going to call the loan people about readjusting that, then we'll get water and pressure tanks and begin hauling our own water. Once the tanks are in and inspected, we can fill in the septic, call APS to put a meter box out for us, then finish the stupid, sloppy, lazy Mexican's jobs for them by fixing what they fucked up or half-assed within the house.

Then maybe, just maybe, God will give us our lives back and leave us alone to live in peace, but I won't hold my breath. I've always believed that as long as God knows Tom's with me, he'll always run him ragged and keep him on the go so we don't have time to do fun things together. And when we do, it's only once every couple of weeks or so. I strongly feel that as soon as we're in that house, his mother will become our daughter again and probably end up in the hospital, if not dead. Although it's too soon for her to die, from what I vibe. I think she'll live till around next June–September, but if she's still alive by then, then she may never die! Not for years yet, anyway. The doctors were obviously wrong in saying she had a terminal blood disease.

* * *

Tom fell asleep after turning off the TV to read for a while. I read, too, and decided I'd write some more. Perhaps I'll go begin a letter to Paula.

First, though, I decided that as cute as those borders were, I think they'd be too much and make the place look really circus-like, so I've decided that I'll eventually get a couple of murals that are 9' tall and 6' wide. A nighttime city scene for the bedroom and a beach with palm trees scene for my office.

Since there's a damn good chance I'll finish this book before we're in the house, I'll just get a regular notebook. I don't have any room on my shelves for any more journals. Wait a minute! I've got plenty of room in #77. I was gonna use that up for journal charts back before I knew I was gonna be doing all my journaling on just the computer.

I went downstairs for coffee earlier and ended up chatting with Teresa for a few minutes when she came over to get some juice. She unlocked the orange juice and apple juice machine, saying they weren't supposed to use it (it's for breakfast), but she was broke and thirsty. She offered me a cup, too.

12-10-1999

I'm writing for the first time in the house at the bar on one of our new stools. I'm rapidly losing light, though, so I'm gonna head to the trailer. Tom's bundled up asleep on the couch here.

We may still not have water and electricity, but we have steps! Three sets, rather than the two we thought we were gonna get. For a while there, I was beginning to think we were gonna have to get steps ourselves, but luckily, it's one less thing we have to do.

The steps are ugly, but we don't care. We've got them and they're functional and that's what matters! I just wish we'd gotten them sooner. They're wooden steps with a reddish tint. They each have a matching wooden rail to one side, and I managed to hang my three biggest wind chimes off each of the three sets of stair railings. Using a hoe to raise it high enough, I put an old, broken wind chime up in one of our old ugly mesquite trees that's sort of between the house and trailer. I put the little ones in a bush by the master bedroom side of the house.

Yesterday we got the kitchen set, stools, and spider lamp. They're gorgeous. I sure do love contemporary style furniture.

Today we went to the casino again, and unfortunately, my win vibe didn't pan out. Maybe next time.

On the way back, I saw a "wild west" kind of sight. It was so southwestern and such a cool scene to see. A herd of beautiful wild horses ran alongside us as we were cruising down the freeway.

I got a little tub of homemade cookies from the grocery store, but they were hard. So Tom gave me a wonderful tip. He advised me to put a piece of bread in the tub, and sure enough, it softened the cookies. The cookies sucked up the bread's moisture.

12-12-1999

We're at the Fairfield now, although he's gone to work. This time we're in the same suite that was left open the night I popped popcorn in its microwave. It's nice having the microwave, and I just slipped downstairs for about ten packets of hot chocolate, ten spoons, and five cups, not that I'll have more than 2-3 cups tonight. Yes, this is definitely my favorite hotel, even though I wish we never had to return after tonight.

I did laundry earlier and found that Teresa wasn't working tonight.

I placed one call to Andy earlier too, but he was on the phone cuz it only rang once before his machine came on. I left him a hang-up, and you know, I thought about it and realized something - he probably can't get a hotel number after all. Not unless it was a call from their main line, but extensions should come up as unavailable, the more I think about it, on both caller ID boxes and last number calls.

After he gets out of work, he's gonna go get a shed. They're coming to pick up the storage bin on Wednesday. Then all we'll have is our stuff in mini storage to get out.

Just when I thought my slow-starting period was over, I have wicked cramps, so I popped ibuprofen.

Last night at around 9 PM I heard a series of gunshots, the second-worst thing you'd hear out there besides dogs. Well, they certainly weren't hunting at that hour, so I guess they were shooting stray dogs or coyotes away from their chicken coops.

Tom and I discussed getting a gun with a laser line-up when we get the horses.

I love seeing roadrunners. They're so cute, and they sure are fast!

There still haven’t been any noise problems in back, and I know they can't be living there full-time yet. Not only cuz it's too quiet for anyone to be living there, but because I only see their outside light on at night and no other lights. It's just too dark for anyone to be living there, quiet or not.

* * *

Although I already feel much better, thank God, the last two days weren't the least bit pleasant.

First, though, since I'm obviously gonna finish this book before we move into the house, I'm gonna use either journal #77 or #160 to finish out our trailer/hotel stay, cuz they have blank pages.

Tom says I'll feel better by Friday cuz Friday we should have a handle on what's going on with the house. That goes with my vibes. I feel that yes, we'll know more of what the fuck's going on this week and maybe even be able to pinpoint a move-in date. But luckily for me, as I said a moment ago, I'm already feeling better. For a couple of days, I was not only beat and rundown to the point that I could've easily slept 16 hours, but I was depressed, too. I was so scared too, cuz it was over the two issues that I spent about 5 years being depressed over, and I began to fear I'd be slipping back in time, depressed regularly. I feared God was gonna compensate me for the house/land by having me be depressed over old issues, but nah. I don't think he'll do that to me. He couldn't be that mean, could he? Let's hope not!

The first issue took me a while to figure out, but the second one still has me confused.

Issue one - the realization that neither of us has made any attempt to have sex in the last three weeks or so was rather sad. It shows that due to how long we've been together, the love's grown, but the lust has died. I really think this is why he's been complimenting my looks too, to cover for his lack of being turned on.

I also realized it's not the infrequent sex that gets me down and frustrated; it's the damn lies and excuses. Always the lies and excuses! He just can't come clean, be honest, be himself, and quit bullshitting me. He is how he is, so why he has to come out and make such bullshit comments like "Sex will be fine for making babies once we get settled in the house" beats me, and it really bothers me. Who does he think he's kidding? Himself? Me? Not me. Certainly not me. But why oh why does he keep on, year after year, saying he's gonna be someone he isn't? It isn't in him to have full-time sex and to cum regularly. He doesn't even want to. Instead, he says he's gonna do shit he's not gonna do, then makes excuses. Nine out of ten times, as soon as he's about to cum, he quits and makes excuses. He's always got a problem. A cramp, an ache, a pain, a cold, exhaustion, etc. I'm so sick of it, and he's being so damn obvious. This is more than fear of making the baby he believes I can conceive. This is someone who's just not into it and just not very attracted to me. But why can't he just be honest and not do things he's uncomfortable about, rather than attempt them just to back out scared, or cuz he just can't get into it, then pummel me with excuses? Fine - don't screw me but once or twice a month. And fine - don't cum but once a year. But by God - cut the bullshit lies and excuses!

Issue two - this is the confusing one. How do you want something you know you don't want? I know I don't want a kid. I just don't want to live that lifestyle. I don't want to trade in dolls for diapers and deal with all a child entails: the stress, burden, responsibility, cost, loss of freedom, etc. I don't want the tremendous strain it'd put on our marriage. We'd only bicker over it, and then we really wouldn't have a life or much time together.

Nonetheless, I couldn't help but wonder about it. I'm so curious about this thing I can never have, but I know that, want it or not, I can never have it and I could never handle it. If it was meant to be, it would've been by now - naturally. It's better to always remain curious about what it'd have been like to carry/have a child than to live out those experiences and deal with the misery it'd bring. After my curiosity was settled, I'd have only been overwhelmed and miserable for years and years. I have no tolerance or patience for kids.

No amount of sex or in vitro could ever lead to a kid. It ain't in my cards, but despite my curiosity and how it sometimes gets me down, God didn't give me the free will to decide about having kids; his making a child not a part of my destiny is a damn good thing for me. Probably the best thing next to making Tom a part of my life/destiny. Having a life and having the freedom that I do is exactly what I need. Things turned out for the best, and I'm glad they turned out as they did.

I forgot to say that, as for sex - I have no desire to get what I'm not getting in the marriage with another woman, but I am getting more and more turned off and am losing interest more and more with each passing year. His lack of enthusiasm and his constant excuses really kill my drive.

So what am I gonna do? The only thing I can do is put up with his excuses when we screw every few weeks, and accept that I can never have a child, want one or not, under any circumstances, no matter how advanced technology is.

For a while I didn't want to discuss it, cuz I've learned it's useless to discuss the things we can't change, and cuz I didn't want to bicker about it or have him BS me in any way, but I finally agreed to spill it out after he promised not to talk to avoid fighting. He knows I don't want to hear the same BS he's been telling me for six years now - that he wants to screw full-time, that we will screw full-time, that he will cum regularly, and that I'll magically conceive someday when I know damn good and well that this is all bullshit. These things can't and won't happen. Fine. I accept it and am OK with it. What I'm not OK with are his lies and excuses.

He kept his promise and quietly let me bitch, but was that a look of boredom on his face I saw? A look of not-this-shit-again? Even a pleased look? Why do I feel that the more I'm turned off, the more he's turned on?

He explained to me that it's normal for everyone to have cycles of happiness and depression and that certain issues only seem to be getting me down when all it really is is just a case of me being down. "It wouldn't depress you if I died?" I asked him. "Yes," he said, "but if I died during a happier cycle of his, it wouldn't affect him as deeply as it would if I died during a shitty time for him where he was already feeling down."

Well, I just pray to God that I never go through years of wanting a child again! I don't ever want to want a child!!!!! Ever! For a woman to go through years of depression over that is practically inhumane.

12-13-1999

I'm sitting at the breakfast bar right now, but I'm not really in the mood to write. Perhaps later.

* * *

We're still pretty stressed out over things taking forever to happen. Not that I'm in the mood for sex myself, what with all his excuses, but I was shocked to hear him say he was too stressed out for sex. Don't get me wrong - everything turns him off. It's just that once again, Tom's anything but your typical male. Most people would want to have sex during stressful times cuz it eases stress. People tend to turn towards things they like and things that relax them and make them feel good when they're stressed out. I lose my appetite for food when I'm feeling down in any way, but I tend to do more other things. Especially listening to music.

Tom's level of optimism is so unrealistic that it pisses me off. He's too hopeful. He's still hoping for a well, saying there's a good chance the driller will be here tomorrow, but I just don't see it. Why would he suddenly decide to show up now after all this time?

Tom bitched to the loan people, and he said that there's a damn good chance they'll sue Steven and his fucked up associates if they don't have their work done by the 24th, but I doubt it.

12-14-1999

Today was both hectic and productive.

It was hectic hurrying to set up the new shed and empty the storage bin before dark (they're supposed to pick up the bin tomorrow).

It was productive cuz the Goddamn well driller finally showed up! It was cool to watch them work, and I intend to take some pictures tomorrow. They left the rig on the land and left in a pickup.

The question is, are we gonna have to wait forever for Gravity, or someone, to hook it up and fill in the septic so we can then call APS to finish their part and get the county out to inspect?

Tom made it clear to Steven that we know all this delay is his fault and that we regret using him. Steven had an excuse for everything, but Tom had an answer for everything, too. For example, Steven tried to convince Tom that despite the delay, we were saving money on a cheaper driller. But we're not, as Tom told him. The hotel costs are making up for that, so we may as well have gotten an expensive driller who was reliable and who would've been on-site as promised.

I said hello to Teresa when we got here, then took a much-needed shower to get all the dust off me.

12-16-1999

We extended our hotel stay for three days in a row, with tonight being the last night, to make it easier on us.

They were at 200' with the well Tuesday and at 400' yesterday, so they may finish up today. Meanwhile, Tom's gonna jump on the phone to push for Gravity to get his fat ass out to finish his job, so we can get in by X-mas and not have to wait a month in between jobs. Before, it'd seem like a month would pass after each job they did, be it the septic, the skirting, APS stringing the electric, etc. If these people want to get paid, they'll finish their job cuz as it is, they're not getting full payment. Not with all the delays, they're not.

Well, last night was the 5th quiet hotel night in a row. Hopefully, that's a good sign, and maybe God will give us a break for a change and let us into our home by X-mas as I prayed for. The bulk of my prayers go unanswered, though, as you know, so we'll see.

I called Andy last night and the night before, but I think I'm gonna call it quits with calling him. All he does is either say nothing or quote lyrics, and it's really quite boring. I'm done with him. I have nothing to say to him. And there's nothing he can say to me that's worth hearing.

I thought of Andy after I smelled pot a few times out at the house. Can you believe it?! Even Tom smelled it. If it isn't pot we smelled a few different times, then it's something that really resembles it closely. We couldn't tell where it was coming from, although we doubt it came from Dan or next door due to the direction of the wind. Dan and next door are south, the rentals are west, and the smell came from the north.

On our first night here, I sat down to listen to music and turned all the lights off. I then noticed these dots of light on the wall and couldn't figure out what was causing them. When I turned the lights on, though, I could see they were little glow-in-the-dark star stickers stuck to the wall. I took them to the house and put them in my office.

I haven't said anything to Tom yet, although I've mentioned it before, cuz I wanted to see if he'd notice. So far he hasn't. I swapped my old nicotine-stained lampshade that goes to the bedroom wall lamp with one of their wall lampshades here. Mine was only slightly bigger than theirs and shouldn't be noticeable to anyone who's not looking for it. Eventually, when it comes time to replace the fluorescent bulb, they may see that the lampshade's rather dingy-looking and replace it. By then, we should be long gone, and they shouldn't have a clue as to who made the swap. They may never even know it was a swap, but just a lampshade that got dirty.

Also, I filled those three jar lamps. I could've put a Barbie in the big one, but she would've been standing funny, so I put flowers in, and it looks great. Even Tom says it's way cool and looks like I bought it that way. I didn't get as lucky with the two smaller ones cuz most of my flowers were either too old and frayed, so I threw them out. So I put beads and pieces of turquoise in one, and an assortment of jewelry in the other.

Yesterday I thought I was getting a cold cuz I had a sore throat, but I'm fine today. Nonetheless, I took the day off and let Tom go straight to the house from work by himself. I hope he doesn't return with any bad news of any kind. We don't need it! I have a good vibe for the 20th and a somewhat good one for the 23rd, too.

Poor Tom's only had four hours of sleep the last two days. I hope he can catch up on at least some of it. He said he'd be in between 1:00 and 4:00. A part of me wishes I'd gone with him today, cuz I'm sort of bored here.

I automatically awoke at 8:30. Guess I've developed a bit of a built-in alarm clock.

I've written and listened to music, so I guess I'll read now.

* * *

If only I'd written down that black bitch's number before we got the trailer! I could've called to confirm whether or not she really got my mail. It's a little late for that now, anyway, though. She and her cock oughta be out of town now like they always were before X-mas and just after the New Year.

I can't call the Mexicans for confirmation, not knowing their name, not that they'd necessarily be listed. I can't believe that I never got a piece of their mail and learned their name during the four months I was stuck with them.

I can't seem to get myself to read right now. I'm in more of a writing mood, although I don't know what else to say at this time. Just the same thing I've been saying for months and what seems like years - I want in that house! I want in now! No, I want in more like yesterday!

I've gotten a few wall decorations up, but it'd help if I had my box of nails. They must be in mini storage. All I've got is my big toolbox, which does have some nails, but mainly screws.

Tom and I were fools to think I'd run out of doll or wall space. I've got plenty of room left for dolls, but that's mainly cuz 12 of them ended up on top of kitchen cabinets and a few on the counters. I could use some more pictures for the walls. The wall space in there is endless!

I wish Tom would hurry back!

* * *

We hit water today at 545'! Tom said there was water gushing everywhere. He says he also has reason to believe we will be in by Christmas, according to how everyone's acting. Well, this goes with my vibes, which I told him about. He said the 20th is when a pump is supposed to be put on the well, and the house should be inspected on the 23rd, which could explain why I had good vibes for those dates.

Also, he got a $750 bonus at work for being such a good worker. After taxes are deducted, though, it'll only be about $450, but hey, that's the cost of about 8 hotel nights.

He said he was feeling so well and that he wanted the good luck to continue, so he almost stopped at the casino, but was too tired. I'll bet! At least he's asleep now and will be able to get nearly 8 hours.

They took the storage bin back today.

I forgot to mention this "witching" crap the well driller went through before beginning the drilling. Talk about putting on a show! With a brass rod that looked like an L-shaped coat hanger, he walked around the property claiming that the more it moved to the side, the more there was water pooled in that area. What a bunch of superstitious bullshit! Yeah, right, and if I walk around with a tree branch that happens to swing to the side magically on its own, does that mean there's gold under me? He had to have consciously moved the rod, cuz you could hit water pretty much anywhere in that area. That was obvious with all the wells on the farms around there.

I said hi to Teresa, who was totally bored and told her about hitting water. Before I could ask her about stealing any plants, she got a phone call.

Tom hasn't noticed the swapped lampshade. I told the maid we didn't need her services today. Not cuz I feared she'd notice the switch either, but because we're all set till we leave tomorrow.

12-17-1999

In the trailer...

 Just when I was admiring how quiet the dogs have been, next door's dog takes off on a half-hour fit. It didn't start barking till 10:00, though, and at least the dogs around here, when they do bark, don't bark much during the day.

Haven't heard anything else around here yet. A good 99% of the time it's quiet. Finally! Yeah, but this peace I've been dreaming of and fighting for over the last 8 years is something I better enjoy while it lasts.

No Friday night stress as I had in the city! God, how I hated weekends there! I can just imagine how many cars are in front of next door now! Those poor moochers. Wait till the summer when they're outside gabbing from sunset to sunrise! It's just a hell of a relief and a hell of a feeling to know that I no longer have to be forced to listen to and deal with those Mexicans!

I talked with Teresa on and off last night and it was fun. She enjoyed my company and I found her pleasant to chat with.

She looks and acts older than she is. I thought she was in her early 20s, but she's only 18. She's engaged and has a 2-year-old. Figures, huh? At just 18? Truthfully, though, if anyone had to be a teenage mom, I'd hope it'd be her. She's so intelligent and with it for her age. She's your classic mom looks-wise cuz she's huge. She says she doesn't care that she's big. I envy her attitude.

She was shocked to learn I'm 34. She thought I was around 27.

According to the computer, last night was our 17th night there. That's scary. And that doesn't count the days we spent at the La Quinta, the Holiday, Hampton, Red Roof, or the Southgate.

Well, no place is perfect, but the Fairfield's definitely my favorite.

I bought us some chips, shared some cookies and soda with her, and she gave me a bag of hard candy.

She might let me steal this fake green leafy tree that's been cramped behind a cabinet-like thing for a while. She's gonna get a feel for whether her boss would miss it or not, I guess, then let me know Sunday night whether or not I can whisk it out.

She also was cracking up over some jokes I was telling her, which she repeated to her mom and stepdad.

I told her that if all went well, she'd never see me again after next Tuesday. That's not what she wants, she said, and I gave her our cell phone number. She knows and understands, though, how much we want to get in that house.

12-18-1999

Never again will I go out on weekends! Especially when it's so close to X-mas. The traffic and crowds were horrendous! At least something good came out of it - a new computer desk! It's a great 3-piece deal for just $150. We thought I'd have to spend a good $250 or so on anything decent.

Let me go in order of events, though. I slept till around 10:00 today, then we were off to the grocery store for a few non-perishable items, then to Staples. This Staples didn't have this model in whitewash, so the guy called another Staples 15 minutes away and had one reserved for us. The first Staples was offering a free chair with that model. I told Tom I'd still settle for light brown so we didn't have to be out running around all day, but he said it'd be no problem going to this other Staples. No trouble my ass! The fucking parking lot was a total nightmare, and the hordes of people were horrid! It took forever to get there, then to park, then to get the damn desk and the chair too, since this store tried claiming they knew nothing about it. Then, after two salesclerks were on the phone with the Staples we came from for an eternity, we finally got the damn desk and chair.

Then it was off to fight tooth and nail to get out of the parking lot. This one smart-ass cock was walking so slowly in front of the car, pissing me off and getting pissed off doing it, that I was prepared to fight if need be, and I didn't give a fuck how big he was. The fortunate little shit walked away, though, without provoking me and forcing me to kick ass. Lucky little bastard!

We also went to a sporting store where Tom ran in to get toilet chemicals while I sat in the car. It took him forever.

We grabbed me some Chinese take-out, got some gas, then we finally came back to the house.

The computer desk has a printer and a file cart. It's great, and I have good space, too. All the more it'll inspire me to write. We put it together using a super bright halogen light run by the generator.

* * *

Well, we're getting a little taste of the city now. God just won't let me live in peace. I just have to listen to other people's shit.

When I first heard the music, I automatically thought - here we go. The renters are ready to announce themselves and make their presence known. We drove by them today. Although there are curtains in the window of the one closest to us, it still looks deserted. We didn't see any people, but there was an old, Mexican-looking car by the other one with a big dog chained in front that may've been a St. Bernard.

It wasn't the renters' music, though. It was coming from the north, opposite next door. It sounded like it may've been country music, and it was coming from a house, not a car. Fortunately, it couldn't be heard at all in the house. Not till the parties get closer and louder. It was quite a party, though, setting off tons of dogs in the area. I thought they weren't supposed to do this out here! Tom said that people are bound to have parties during the holidays. Yeah, but there are holidays every other week. Can anybody anywhere keep their damn parties to themselves? It may be Saturday night, but isn't it a little too soon for an X-mas party? I can't believe this fucking shit, though! Everywhere I go, everywhere, I have to be forced to listen to other people's noise! It fucking never ends! Even out here I'm gonna have to listen to other people's music. Why oh why, God, can't you just let me live in peace! Why this obsession?! Well, this decade's not out yet, but it will be soon enough. Then he can decide whether or not to keep sticking people's noise on me or do something else to me for the next decade.

I'm out in the middle of fucking nowhere, yet I still listen to other people's music! All I hear is bass, though, and I'm really starting to believe it's a live band. I'll bet you anything that if we were in that house, God would make sure it was loud enough to hear in there. I can't hear it with an earplug in the good ear or when the trailer heater runs, so thank God for at least that much, cuz these things certainly would've been utterly useless in Phoenix against car stereos.

Still, holidays or not, Saturday night or not, I thought people out here kept their noise for their ears only. They must be renters, and surprisingly, they aren't scarce around here. I've seen lots of signs advertising houses for rent.

Anyway, it doesn't look like we'll be getting den tables from Heilig-Meyers cuz they just don't have any others as cheap as those other ones, and they don't have a great selection. Since we still have about $50 of credit with them, I'll at least grab a decoration of some kind.

Speaking of decorations, I picked up 6 new gorgeous pictures at Fred Meyer. They all came to only $50 cuz I bought them frameless. They're mounted on cardboard and wrapped in plastic.

One may be from some sort of play. It's called The Accolade, but I never heard of it and don't know what it means. There is a lady and a man dressed in fancy, old-fashioned clothes, and they seem to be involved in some sort of ceremony. The guy's kneeling in front of the woman, and the woman has a sword upon the guy's shoulder. The woman has beautiful long hair, so that's what attracted me to this picture.

There are two pictures of kids. One's of little girl ballerinas in soft pastel colors; the other is of a boy and girl from behind who are holding hands. “Friends Forever,” it says.

I got a long, skinny picture with puppies amongst pots of purple flowers, a field of purple flowers with a mountain behind it, and another long, skinny one of a beach with palm trees in Tahiti.

I have never written about Janette yet. She's an older woman who works with Tom, and she got in an accident by slamming into a median, so she called Tom to go help her. There was nothing he could really do for her (this was Friday after work), but calm her down till she reoriented herself. The poor woman's airbag came out and bonked her upside the head, her motor fell out to the ground, and now her insurance rates will go up.

Well, I want to listen to my music now, so I'm gonna unplug and see if they're still carrying on.

* * *

From the sound of it, they've shut up for the night. I took my Melatonin for the night and will be crashing soon. Tom, of course, is crashing in the house. He can stand to sleep in the house under a blanket, and all he has to do to pee is whip it out and squirt it out the door. He doesn't need any toilet paper. I'm glad he can deal with sleeping over there with no problem, since that way I can be free of his shaking the trailer and since I prefer easier access to toilets.

They left their well-drilling rig here over the weekend, so I hope that means they'll be in a hurry to get out here Monday and finish the job so they can take the rig back.

Tom was pretty nervous for a while before they hit water, as they did at 545'. The guy said he brought enough piping for 680', and that on Hidden Valley Road, right around the corner, he had to drill 785' before hitting water! That's deep.

12-19-1999

At the hotel...

Arrived at 3:00 after doing things around the house. We both slept till 10:30. My schedule's slipping! It's still too soon to stop taking Melatonin and allow my schedule to naturally go wherever it wants to.

I did laundry as soon as we got here, and again the hotel ran out of quarters. A black woman, who was sitting in the lobby with her three kids and who had been chatting with Teresa, gave me quarters for my dollar bill.

Tom mentioned seeing a black family leave every day for a while in a beat-up car. I think these are the same people cuz we got to talking, and they too, are having a home built. Theirs is being built on-site, though, here in Chandler, but why they couldn't stay where they were till the house was done beats me cuz they're not coming from out of the area. They're from Chandler.

We were talking about our rooms, and I made a comment about it being too bad that the vending machine was out of popcorn, since we've got a microwave, and she said they had some and sent her son to fetch me a bag. How nice of her. I offered something in exchange for it, but she shrugged my offer off.

I haven't had much of a chance to talk to Teresa yet, but two of her sisters were here, and my God! They don't look like sisters at all! Just like Tammy and I don't look like sisters, Teresa and her sisters are like night and day. Where Teresa is quite hefty, her sisters are as skinny as a coat of paint. There's only a slight resemblance in the face.

Got a couple of really nice calendars, although I still plan on making my own too, with the thick paper I just got. One of the ones I got has pictures of the desert in bloom, and the other has cats. The cat ones have a little cat picture for each day, rather than one big picture for each month.

Not much else to tell right now. Guess I'll do some reading. And hope to hell this week goes well. I sure as hell hope to have a better idea of just where we stand by the time the week's out, or even by Wednesday. Just please God - let our well be completed with its pump tomorrow, and then please let Gravity and APS finish their jobs!!!

Another thing I wonder and even worry about is how long after we move in it will be before we get a washer/dryer and the exercise machine.

Just let things work out for a change!

12-21-1999

At the hotel...

I'm getting sicker and sicker of unreliable people! Why can't anyone finish what they start? The stupid shits drill the well, and now they're not gonna finish it till tomorrow! Or so they say.

I had had a good vibe for the 20th, but all that happened then was they came and got their rig. Big deal, huh? Although he says it was a good thing cuz he had been worried they were gonna be stuck in all the mud they created, I was never worried.

I had also had a good vibe for tomorrow, but logic, plus people's work patterns, tells me we can forget about getting in by X-mas and count on not being in till around January 10-15.

As soon as we arrived home yesterday, I knew, I just knew things weren't gonna work out. Immediately, I knew our two-week wait just got jacked up to about four weeks.

What really burns me up is that these people can fuck us over and there's not a damn thing I can do about it short of killing them. We don't have a case in court since contracts, as I've learned, mean absolutely nothing around here. They can put it in writing all they want that they have until December 1st or December 24th to finish up, but it's bullshit! All bullshit! No one keeps their word, no one does shit, and no one gives a shit that we have to live with the hassles and expense of bouncing between the trailer and hotel. They can promise, they can write, they can threaten each other, but it's all a bunch of bull fucking shit! None of these contractors will ever get sued or fired by anyone; we won't get a discount for all these lazy, needless delays, and we're gonna be losing thousands of dollars on account of these cocks. Aaaaarrrrggggghh!!! I want to kill these people sooo fucking bad!

I should've known something was up as soon as the house sold as fast as it did and as soon as we got that incredible offer. I should've known God had a reason for it. Of course he had the house sell fast at such a phenomenal price; he knew we'd need the money and that it'd take forever to get into the house. This was his first of many compensations to come, too. He won't be finished with us when we do get in the house. No way. He's gonna make us not only pay dearly for this big, nice new house, but he's also gonna punish me for leaving the city. He wanted me to be a city girl. He wanted me in the city, and he wanted me to listen to those Mexicans next door. But because I refused to stay in the noisy, crowded city filled with freeloaders, I have to pay for it. The question is, what's he gonna do when we do move in? Fuck up the house? Have us get sick or injured?

God, if it's you who's been cursing us, leave us alone! If it's not you, then leave us alone, whoever or whatever you are!

* * *

Must be a Mexican close by. Yeah, I heard a car stereo thumping.

Last night I crashed earlier than usual cuz I was so beat. That pain I get at halftime every so often was back again to bug me, so maybe that was draining me. For the first time on the land, I awoke before sunrise.

I ended up speaking more with Teresa and Tracy, the black lady, last Sunday night, but mainly Tracy. We mostly talked about my having braces/retainers, and why she's interested in getting them for herself beats me. Her teeth are already straight.

Teresa brought in cookies she baked for the guests, and they were delicious. She has her younger brother Joey here with her tonight. Last Sunday her two sisters stood over. I wonder why they stay at the hotel.

We're in the same room we were in last time - room 330 with a king bed and micro/fridge. Last time, on a hunch, I called the room directly below me to see if Teresa's sister was in it, and sure enough, she was. A young girl answered, and in a disguised voice, I asked if she was Teresa's sister. Yeah, she said, and I hung up.

Tom's mom is giving us quite a generous X-mas gift. As Tom said, if he understood her right, we're each getting a wrapped gift, $100 for each of us, and $250 for us both. Neat, huh? Can't wait to get in that house and get our new exercise machine, even if that means my big Barbie, CD changer, new headphones, and cactus napkin holder have to wait.

12-22-1999

In the trailer...

That's the second time I've seen one of the trucks next door by the shacks. The first time, a cock was there during the day. He was telling their dark, medium-sized dog to "go home." As in, to go up to the house. After he was done doing whatever it was he was doing at the shacks, he drove around the corner and on up to the house. Our house is on Ralston, but theirs is technically on Bitter Root.

Someone was there again just now. I could hear the truck engine and see taillights. There was once electricity running to these shacks, and there's still a phone wired to it. Rumor has it that some old people, presumably the older woman's parents, used to live in these shacks before they died, but I don't see how they could have. They're barely five feet by five feet.

They're so old and ugly-looking. They're leaning slightly to one side, and their windows are smashed. Fortunately, this should keep the kid from playing around them, cuz that'd be dangerous. They're right on the corner of their property, which I thought was illegal. I thought you couldn't have any building of any kind closer than 25' to the edge of your property.

Maybe they're using them for storage. I just hope that if they're not gonna tear them down, they never restore them. I don't want them that close to me, despite how quiet they've been.

Anyway, I'm here hanging out in the trailer, and Tom's asleep in the house.

These fucking cocks keep fucking us over with more bullshit lies and excuses, but now my vibes make perfect sense. As I said, I had had a good vibe for the 23rd, which is tomorrow, but I also felt a bad vibe kick in two days ago. I had thought the good vibe was cuz of the two dolls I got today, but we'll find that out for sure tomorrow. The bad vibe was cuz the fucking well people didn't finish the job they were supposed to finish today, the lazy, lying mother-fuckers! I kept telling Tom for these last two days that they wouldn't be out today, even though he insisted I'd be wrong.

Today's excuse from the well driller was that he couldn't get any workers today. Bull fucking shit! Steven told Tom that he spoke to Dan, the cock who's holding up this final part of the well, and Dan swears the well will be done by 10 AM tomorrow and that he'll bring his wife out to help if he has to. Even Steven said he'd come out and help. Like that stupid, worthless piece of shit would know anything about wells, yeah right! Then we got Gravity swearing he'll come running right out to finish his job as soon as Dan gets his lazy ass out. Then we gotta wait for an inspection and for APS to give us a meter box.

Well, it's all bullshit. All fucking bullshit. No one will show up tomorrow, and tomorrow's excuse will be that he couldn't get any vehicles running in order to get out here, or some lame, bullshit excuse like that. I can't believe a damn thing anyone says! My life has been based on nothing but lies. All people want to do is talk. Everything's all talk and no action.

I made a deal with Tom. We did it his way with the Mexicans and the blacks. I never laid a hand on them. But this cock's mine. If he does come out tomorrow, fine. I'll keep my mouth shut and my fists to myself, but he's not allowed to leave this property till his job's complete. If he doesn't come out by X-mas, he's at my mercy, and I swear, I'll be his worst nightmare! I'll fucking beat the cock beyond recognition. Nobody fucks me out of thousands of dollars and gets away with it. Even if I could win in court, I'm not gonna use the courts to fight my battles for me, which would cost more money and take forever. I can't beat the money we're losing to hotels out of this cock, but I can beat him so he suffers and so he really has an excuse to not work for a while.

Tom and I were checking out the well the other day, which is only a 550' long pipe in the ground at this point. They covered it with a bucket, and when we picked it up, you could hear the fine pieces of rock trickling down it that slipped down when we removed the bucket. Sound really gets funneled well in such a narrow space. I threw a stone down, a small quartz rock, actually, and it sounded weird. It not only seemed to make a wind sound going down, but you could also hear it hitting the sides of the pipe as it went down. I heard it hit water with a hollow splat that echoed. It must've taken at least ten seconds to get down there.

Why is the dirt out here so powdery, and why are there no rocks out here? Tom and I have been asking these questions, and if we can ever get back online one of these years, we'll research this topic. I thought I once heard that the Grand Canyon was once an ocean, but Tom never heard that. He never heard what a co-worker told him either, which was that this was an ocean millions of years ago. Well, the powdery, dusty, rockless dirt supports that theory, but why aren't there any fossilized bones of the sea life from back then? I know land can change drastically over lots of time, but it's hard to understand how a desert could've once been a swampy or tropical area.

Scuttles is almost as big as Ratsy is now.

I accidentally scared poor Teresa last night. I came up to the desk and asked if she believed in psychics, and she stiffened right up. After a few seconds of hesitation, she said yes. Then I told her I had a bad vibe that they weren't gonna show up tomorrow (today) and proceeded to explain when she suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Oh, you scared the shit out of me! I thought you were talking about having a bad vibe for me."

Got two new dolls today at the grocery store. They're 17," and from the same company I got Shauna and Meagan from. They were marked down from $20 each to $10 each, as I told Tom I thought they'd be. It's hard to believe these two dolls together cost half of what Anne costs alone.

Nakita has reddish-brown hair and grayish eyes. I guess some might call her hair auburn. She wears a beautiful dress with shimmering gold and gold beads. She even has gold beads on her shoes.

Selena has blond hair and brown eyes and wears a white dress with pink tulips across the chest.

Their hair was styled the same, with looped braids. It's where you put the hair in two ponytails, then separate three sections of hair on each side and braid them. Then you hook the ends of the braids up by the rubber band holding the ponytails. I never particularly cared for this hairstyle, so I redid their hair. I put Selena's in a high ponytail and started to make one braid for Nakita, but because her hair was uneven, loose pieces stuck out along the braid. Instead, I took those shorter pieces, which were at the sides, and pulled them back with a gold barrette. Her hair's long! To her feet.

12-23-1999

Tom and I are at the hotel now, and boy, are we pissed, frustrated, and depressed! It's an understatement to say we are really, really cursed! Something does not want us to live in that house. I knew God was gonna make us pay for leaving Phoenix and the Mexicans, but like this? This is overkill. He's really taking it to the extreme.

Today was such a mix of emotions. Not only was the fear of God in me, but so was everything from tears of frustration and depression to a red-hot, boiling rage.

I nearly killed Dan, the head well-drilling cock, today, but I did scare the shit out of him. Everyone's pissed off at Dan and Steven, and I'll tell you one thing for damn sure - once we get in that house in five years, I'm gonna beat these cocks so bad, and when Dan's wounds heal, he'll be too old to drill wells and fuck up someone else's life like he's fucked up ours, and every time he hears the word well, he's gonna see my face.

Both Dan and Steven's careers are over cuz I also intend to sabotage their so-called business and have their licenses pulled.

I gave Dan a piece of my mind from A to Z, and according to Tom, even he said I had every right to be upset later on when I ran into the trailer to cry, bitch, and cuss.

After Tom called at 10:30 complaining about how they "promised" to be at our place and done with the well by 10:00, the fucking cocks finally decided to show up at 1:00. Tom was asleep in the house when they pulled in, and I hopped out of the trailer and approached the driver. I asked if he was Dan. He nodded, then I firmly said, "I want the well done today. No more delays."

He looked terrified, although his partner, a cock I've never seen before, found it to be quite funny by the amused look on his face. So Dan says it'll be done, then proceeds to set to work on the well. Then Gravity, who's turned out to be one of the more reliable guys we've dealt with so far (along with Brian, although I wish he'd finished caulking nails that are visible), shows up and digs two trenches. One running along the back of the house to the well for water pipes, then one running along the front of the house to the well for the electric. We had no idea he was gonna dig a trench in front. His cowboy buddy was with him. They both sympathize with what we're going through as far as Dan and Steven go, and Gravity said that yes, Hilda was really fired. He said he'd have quit if she weren't.

Anyway, Dan is such an incompetent little fuck. Before he even tested to see if the well had dried up, he and his assistant put the pump, threaded pipe, and wire down the well. And the stupid fuck never had enough pipe to begin with, cuz his math is worse than mine. He said he went down 526', but the fucking thing's 550' deep (which should've been deeper). So the shit runs the pump, gets no water, has to pull everything back up, then tells us the well's dried up and he sees it all the time. Then if he's seen this before, the stupid fuck should've known better than to have those other guys only drill to 550', and he should've checked for water before going through all this shit and wasting more time. Now the retarded fuck is saying they'll come back and drill deeper, and it'll be done and operable by next Thursday. Oh, bull fucking shit it will be, and as I told him, he's already looking at not getting paid. And I'll be so pissed if Tom pays the January house payment, cuz I'm not paying for anything I'm not living in. They wouldn't pay these assholes' bills for not being done yet, so why should we have to pay for a house we're not able to live in? That ain't fair.

There's no fucking excuse for this. We should've been living in that house 6-8 weeks ago. These people are turning my dream into a nightmare, and I'm gonna be their worst nightmare! Just as soon as we get in that house, so help me God! I'm fucking sick and tired of people lying to me and fucking up my life and getting in the way of the things I want to do. It's one thing to have God running my life and making all my decisions for me, but another to have people doing it, too.

I'm scared. I'm really scared. I know it's gonna be one problem after another as the “price” we have to pay for leaving the city. But why?!?! Why?!?! Why should we have to be punished in order to have something we want in life? We worked hard for this. We earned it. We deserve it. What? Can only lazy blacks or Mexicans be given anything for nothing?

If these stupid shits don't want to do the work for us, why don't they just say so? Why the bullshit excuses and stories? Tom let the loan people know we're way past ready to fire these people and hire new people, but if we do, will they be any more reliable and competent?

Teresa isn't working tonight, and I'm kind of glad she isn't cuz I'd be lousy company. I'm all bummed out, and I may only bring her down, too.

After we got here and showered, he called Mary, and we both cried on her shoulder. It felt good, and I could really hug her for being so positive, cheerful, supportive, and understanding. She really felt for us.

She mentioned a Christmas gift for me, and from what I understood, she and Ma picked it out together. I guess they debated about which one would be best for me, but as I told her, whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it. Tom and I doubt it's a doll. We think it's clothes of some kind. I kind of hope not, cuz I don't think anything they could get would fit. Not if they're buying something for a 110-pound person to wear who's really close to 130 pounds.

Before anyone came out to our place, all by myself, I put Tom's free chair together, and then he broke it. We were having trouble snapping the wheels in, and he put so much force on it that the plastic we glued it, but I don't expect it'll stay put for long.

The directions the chair came with were actually written in clear, blunt English. No wordy shit, no dancing around the subject.

What I've already written about wasn't our only problem. Something's really out to get us good. We're gonna have no more free time than we used to in Phoenix.

The fucking trailer toilet is fucked up now, so you can't fill it up with water. Another thing we have to deal with. As if we don't already have more than enough to do.

Also, the headphones for my portable CD player have a short in their wire, so now I've gotta get new headphones. I have a couple of other pairs, but one's too uncomfortable, and the other's jack is the wrong size, and I don't know where my adapters are at the moment.

I also let Mary know I was sorry I couldn't make up those calendars for X-mas as I'd originally intended to do, and she understood.

She also said things like how she wanted to see the house when it was done, we'd be very happy and things would work out, and this will only make me stronger so I'm a pioneer woman when this is over. Well, if I haven't been a pioneer since I was about five, I never will be. I feel the opposite. I feel like all the shit I went through at home with my parents, then at the places and apartments I was in, along with living with the blacks and Mexicans, has made me smarter and more experienced, but weaker, nonetheless. I feel like each crisis just breaks me even more.

To make an already shitty situation even shittier, it was so incredibly windy today that the dust Gravity and his tractor were kicking up was horrendous. We had to shout to hear each other, and dust was getting in my eyes and hair.

12-24-1999

In the trailer...

Tom went and turned in in the house where the animals are now.

I just heard the strangest thing I ever heard around here. I was sitting on the bed relaxing with some cocoa when I heard a voice. It certainly wasn't loud enough to make out, but when I stepped outside, I heard a male voice say, "Go to hell, go to hell," in the most terrified voice. I think it was from next door. They said it with such fear that if they were just joking, they're a damn good actor. I also heard a dog that sounded too close for comfort bark a few times. The only other sound I hear right now is some engine revving up, but I don't know where it's coming from. It sounds a lot like a big tractor a few miles away, but it's probably a truck next door.

I expect it to sound a bit city-like tomorrow for X-mas. Some voices, gunfire, and music oughta be heard. I'm surprised I haven't heard any music yet tonight, but it's still early. The music I heard last Friday didn't start till close to 10:00.

I still hear that engine and am beginning to think it's a farming vehicle of some kind (you'd be surprised at how much work they do at night), cuz I can't imagine why next door, or any other neighbors, would sit and run their vehicles. It's not idling. Whatever it is, they're gunning its engine periodically.

Anyway, to sweep through the day—we went to Whataburger after checking out, and I've really had it with them. They take forever, they fuck up our orders, and I've had enough. I don't want to go back to noisy restaurants with shitty service either, so I'll just grab something from Circle K. People are just too stupid!

Then it was off to mini storage to load up with more stuff. I made a plant hanger out of silver chains and hair elastics for my pink floral plant that was here all along in the big box where my monitor is. I hung it on Tweety's old stand. Once the house is all set up, I'll thoroughly describe each room.

Our last stops were to the grocery store and Circle K for my coffee.

Upon arriving home at 1:30, we were both majorly shocked to see the well drillers here, who had just arrived too and were setting up to pull all the casing out.

Then it hit me... they're here cuz they want us to think they're finally gonna get their asses in gear and finish the job right for once and for all. The fact is, though, that after today, we're gonna have to wait God knows how many weeks to get them back, but hey, their rig's here. I'll sabotage it on top of everything else I'm gonna do to them (and Steven).

With no success, we tried moving the trailer by the house by chaining it to a crowbar that we chained to the frame of the car, but amazingly, all it did was break the crowbar right in half.

Since we only have enough propane for one night rather than the two we plan on being here for, I'm trying to go as long as I can with no heat. To help with that, I swapped in my blanket for a down comforter and am gonna sleep with my pants on, as well as the sweatshirt and socks I've been sleeping in.

12-25-1999

Today was a great day. Save for a few scattered dogs in the distance, it was a quieter Christmas than I expected. No voices, no gunfire, no music. Till 8:00. Yeah, I heard distant bass rumbling off towards where all the lights are for about 15 minutes, but fortunately, it was too soft to be heard in the house. I could only hear it in the trailer. I think it was coming from the same place last week's music came from.

New Year's Eve is probably gonna be noisier than in the city. It's tradition, especially in Arizona, to shoot guns at midnight. Well, if they do it in the city where it's not allowed, I can only imagine how much they'll do it out here in this rural area where it is allowed.

I was surprised at how many cars I heard driving by last night. Maybe not down Ralston or Meadow Green, but near enough. Right before midnight, the gray dumpy car that lives at the furthest rental drove down Ralston by the house, then turned onto Meadow Green, then in front of their place. That's the second time I've seen them come in really late. Maybe someone there works a 3–11 shift.

Shockingly, there's still no one in the closer house in back, nor has George brought in any new trailers or houses.

Although it was cold, in the 50s, I survived sleeping with the thermostat just below 60º. Tom said that hardly any propane got used last night. Tonight, though, I'm gonna keep it at just under 65º, although I prefer 70º. I just don't want to risk running out at 3 AM. I could sleep without any heat at all, but I'd rather have at least a little.

Why are we so fucking hexed with toilets? Toilets and cars! First, the valve wasn't closing all the way, so we couldn't fill the toilet with water to take a dump. Then the toilet paper got jammed up, so no more would fit down the hole. It certainly wasn't full, so our tipping the trailer the other day trying to move it must've caused it all to settle in one spot. I just hammed the toilet paper down with the end of the fly swatter, so hopefully it'll be OK for a while.

I haven't been setting alarms for a few weeks now. I seem to naturally wake up between 8:00 and 10:00.

When I got up today, I brought food and water over to the animals, who are now in the house.

We dragged the generator over to the house to run the portable heater to heat the bedroom, where we had boring, predictable sex. The only surprise to it was that it didn't hurt as I expected it to. Good, so when we screw again in 2–4 weeks, I'll know not to worry. Other than that, the excuses came again. This time it was the cramp-in-the-side excuse.

I steamed some dolls' dresses and hair, but what really made the day was that I got to use the computer! Oh, it felt so good! I missed it! I was surprised not to have forgotten anything, like how to download pictures, which I did, and my typing hasn't slowed down a bit.

I typed 7 pages (nearly half of my first trailer journal) and retrieved Joebitch's number. The one she got when she moved. I'd love to call her from the hotel to hear her reaction to hearing from me and to see if I can confirm she got my mail, but unless the bitch has changed habits, she's out of town till after New Year's. However, if there's any good to us being delayed from getting in the house, it's that we'll still be playing hotel when she gets back.

Speaking of that black and a certain pack of Mexicans, I wonder if part of the shit we're going through trying to get into our own home is part of God's punishment for my mail to those people and for dumping Andy. I think it's mostly cuz we left the city, though, and to compensate us for getting such a nice house. Well, we feel we deserve and earned this place, and if something up there doesn't think so—tough.

Because we brought over the 2 big boxes my computer and monitor were in from the trailer to the house, we were able to fold the bed back into a couch that's in the front of the trailer. It sure makes the place look bigger. I swept and vacuumed the trailer today.

It was good to take a day off from going out. I needed it. Tom made a trip to Maricopa, though, for gas and my favorite coffee.

Tom told me that many years ago, for about a year or more, all he had to eat every day was a ham and cheese sandwich, fries, and a shake. He got this at a drive-through every morning before work and kept no food in his house. I asked why, and he said it was just a habit. I wish I could get myself into the "habit" of only having one meal a day, but I'm such a wimp. I can never get used to the hunger no matter how long I diet.

Around 7:00, I fired down my computer, and he fired down the generator. He went to bed in the house, and I came here to the trailer. I'm gonna go do another round of singing.

12-27-1999

I'm in the trailer for the night, and Tom's asleep in the house till he has to get up for work.

The well drillers were out today. They arrived right before we did and found the rig's battery dead, so Tom jumped it.

Again, I'm not kidding when I say that something does not want us to live here. They drilled down to 660' and still no water. I guess the only reason they hit water at 545' was simply that they hit an isolated pocket of water. I feel so fucking teased with this house! First, something up there had to tease me with when the house would even get here, then I had to miss out on seeing the house arrive, and now this!

I've already resigned myself to the fact that my life on the road is going to exist for a while longer. I see no end in sight too soon. And I once wanted to be a traveling singer! Ugh! The only sense of normalcy and my old life I'm getting is during all the hours I'm spending on the computer. I've already typed up the first page.

Sunday morning wasn't very pleasant here. I woke up at 6:00 to go pee and spoke to Tom after I heard him rummaging around in the car. I had just fallen back asleep when every Goddamn dog within a ten-mile radius decided to go off, and our local cocks decided to get trigger-happy. I hate these weekend shoot-outs. The dogs are barely audible in the house, but the gunfire isn't, and I'm not gonna get any sleep in my own home on weekends! I could if I slept with the box fan, but I don't want to sleep with that particular fan. I want to sleep with the other one. I hate being controlled in my own home by strangers, and I refuse to be. I don't even know these people, and I'll be damned if I'm forced to accommodate these assholes. After all the shit we went through and are still going through to live here, I'll kill anyone who tangles with me out here.

I spoke to a certain black bitch that tangled with me once upon a time in Phoenix. I got her number from the computer and was surprised to find her even available. I thought she'd be out of town.

Anyway, she answered, and I started off by asking if she got my mail. I didn't get the reaction I expected, so I don't know if that's good or bad. I mean, I expected her to go off on me instantly. Not act like she didn't have a clue about it, but hey, there are no guarantees that she ever did get my mail. I'm still hoping that she did and was just caught off guard by my call.

So then I asked if she knew who I was, and she said no. My next question brought an instant hang-up, rather than the fit I thought she'd fly right into. I asked if she got any mail from an old neighbor. Then I called back and got her machine, as I hoped to at that point, and told her just what I thought of her. After a few minutes, I made another call where she hung up right away, then my last call where I left my final piece of mind on her machine.

It's a damn good thing I didn't call all night long too, over and over, cuz it was a long-distance call, and I didn't even know it till Tom asked me about it (it was on the hotel receipt)! I denied knowing anything about it, and he told the front desk we never made the call, which they "say" they'll remove.

I didn't know it was long distance cuz of this screwy new system they've got where Phoenix now has a zillion area codes. Sometimes you don't know if it's long-distance cuz for both local calls and long-distance you have to dial the area code before the number. They needed to create 10-digit numbers cuz they ran out of numbers.

We got everything out of mini storage yesterday, so now we have nothing stored anywhere.

12-28-1999

At the hotel...

We arrived at the hotel and got a third-floor room, like we've been doing lately.

The last time, I forgot to pack the sneakers Tom works in, and since he didn't want to go to work in sandals, he bought new sneakers before work that night, which was Sunday night. He was due for a new pair anyway. Now he can use his old, smelly, beat-up pair for outdoor activities.

After we checked in this evening, I ran down to wash his work pants. Luckily, Tracy wasn't using the machines. One of her daughters saw me and said hi. Last Sunday, I saw Tracy by her room down the end of the first-floor hall and ran to ask her how much longer she planned on using the dryer (Teresa told me it was she who was using it, which I had guessed). She was glad to see me and was on her way out with a friend for pizza. She offered me some popcorn, and I told her we didn't have a room with a microwave this time and needed to cut the snacks down to lose 20 pounds.

"Where, girl?" she asked.

It was kind of amusing to think about how she and Teresa think I look fine. I bet I do to them. These are gigantic women, so I'm sure I do look fine in their eyes.

Anyway, I helped her daughters Sierra and Desiree gather up the clothes that were in the dryer (they're about 6–8 years old), and I put a bracelet on for Desiree that she was having trouble getting on.

Teresa had a headache, so I brought her some ibuprofen.

I took a chance and had us eat at Denny's earlier cuz I wanted something different. Luckily, it was quiet, but I'm not gonna push my luck, that's for sure.

Dieting without something like prune juice is a hopeless waste of time, cuz whenever I try to diet, I get stuck. The lack of food gets made up for cuz my body just hangs onto everything it gets, so there's no use in struggling to keep food out when my body just struggles to keep it in. Kind of defeats the purpose. I'll never lose weight and be thin again, anyhow, which has been more than obvious for 2–3 years now, so what the fuck, huh? My only worry is—how much more weight will I gain before we get in the house? I'm nearly 130 pounds now. Will I be nearly 140 when we move in? 150? Dan, you fucking cock, I could kill you! You fucking motherfucker! You really controlled, delayed, and fucked up our lives! I can't work out on an exercise machine cuz of this cock, I can't begin my story, sleep in my own bed, live my own fucking life! Oh, the money, time, and hassles he's cost us!

Tom and I made a deal. That I'd send letters to Steven and Dan giving them a piece of my mind, rather than going and beating the shit out of them when we're in the house. He worries I'll go overboard with how mad I am and kill the cock. Fine. I'd be happy to drop them a line.

We went to Casa Grande yesterday to get refills on my inhalers. For a couple of bucks, I got a gorgeous souvenir ruler. It has several beautiful pictures of various places in Arizona, like the Grand Canyon, Sedona, etc. It sure beats my old plain, boring wooden ruler I'd had for seemingly half my life.

I forgot to mention the comment Tom made when we screwed in the house on Christmas Day. "I did all I wanted to do," he said. So he does have control over his actions. I always knew he did, but what I can't understand to this day is how he can stand to be the way he is. How can he stand not relieving his excitement? How could anyone? Now that's major self-control. Also, it's almost like he's just dying to prove me more and more right each time we screw about, how I say he's always got a problem. It's like he's saying, "Yup, you're right. I'll always have an excuse when we screw." I swear, his turning me off is what turns him on. Well, we've all got to get our satisfaction somehow, huh?

The computer, which has really helped occupy my mind and time, was fun for both of us today. We played miniature golf against each other. He won one game, but for the first time in my life, after never beating anyone at miniature golf, whether it was on a computer or not, I beat him.

Brian, our favorite, came out with his son to do a little work. We were supposed to have an inspection today, but as usual, no one showed up for that. We were chatting with one of the well drillers right before we both headed out. The only kind one that may have some brains and that may be somewhat honest. We're now at 700' and still no water. Dan's been sick, he says, and I was making little comments about how glad I was to hear he was sick. Then Tom told me afterward that that was Dan's son. Well, I didn't know. He doesn't look like Dan any more than Brian's son looks like him, but that's not a surprise. A good 80% of the time, kids look more like their mothers. I resemble both my parents, and unfortunately, God picked out each one's worst features to give to me. I've got my dad's long chin and little hole of a mouth, and my mom's lousy shape.

12-30-1999

We're at the hotel now, and Tom went to bed a little while ago after negotiating a deal with fuckface Steven over our washer/dryer. We'd prefer to settle on a reasonable price rather than have to sue, but if that's what they force us to do, we'll do it. It wouldn't be the first time people made us do something we'd rather not. There's always someone, no matter where I go, fucking up and interfering with my life! Am I ever going to be allowed to live without others controlling my life? And I totally resent God too, for sitting back and allowing this to happen. It's nice that he connected us with Dennis and his trailer, but other than that, he's been of no help to us as we've been dragged through the mud. What does he care that we haven't had a home or a stable, normal life with some structure and routine? What does he care about all our mental anguish? Or about the fact that we've got to make house payments and hotel payments and we owe Dennis $1,200? Tom's still being way too overly optimistic. He says we'll be in the house next week for sure. No, we won't. There'll only be more problems, delays, excuses, lies, incompetence, and plain old cockish stupidity. If we'd had women running the show, the bulk of this would've been done right and on time, if not very close to it.

The fucking inspector, who works for the county/state, wouldn't even inspect yesterday, even though he did show up. Thanks to the people who never told us in the first place, we found out we had to make some preparations before he could inspect. Someone had to come out to remove most of the skirting, for example. Now they say they'll re-inspect Monday, but so what if they do? They'll only find more problems to complain about and tell us we've got to take care of first. Then we can be stalled some more.

We're now at the point where everyone involved has fucked up. Of course, though, Brian and Gravity haven't fucked up nearly as much as Steven and Dan. Fucking, motherfucking cocks! I am such a sexist, and I always will be! I fucking hate males! Sure, there are some stupid women out there, but there's no comparison between females and males, except for a few guys like Tom. Females are way smarter. They know more, learn better and faster, and they retain info well.

I had a bad vibe as soon as we got here and to the room, but hopefully it'll be a false alarm. If God has any compassion for us, he'll leave us alone with other people's noise. All we've heard so far was a loud door slam once or twice. Really, though, I don't need other people's noise and shit on top of the people who are already shitting on us.

Yesterday, we decided to go see Ma, Mary, and Dave, and they were kind enough to put their dog out back. Even Dave said he's getting sick of Pepper. Pepper's been getting into all kinds of things. Maybe that's why he was in the Humane Society.

Dave was his usual teasing, humorous self.

Ma was with it, but man, is she shaky! She had her forearms resting across her stomach and would have occasional spurts where she'd slap herself; she was so full of tremors. What an inhumane, awful way to live! Yeah, God is good. God is really good.

We received more gifts than we expected. We thought we were getting gifts only from Mom, Mary, and Dave, but nope. We got more!

Mom got me a facial skincare massager and Tom a super cool screwdriver with a handle that allows for better leverage. Mary got me one of those little musical dolls that are 8" sitting (identical to my other two) and Tom a computer game. Ray and Nora got us four beautiful puzzles. They're each 1,000 pieces, so the table I plan on getting will be great for them. Jackie and Jim got us a Christmas card holder which would take us 20 years to fill. Carol and Steven got us treats—cookies, dried fruit, nuts, etc. David and Evie got us caramel popcorn, and of course, like always, even had to enclose a picture. Her and her pictures! It was a nice one, though, taken in San Diego with Ma, David, Evie, her kids, Carol, Steven, and Matthew.

We also got that money I said we were getting, and I spent $75 of it after we left at Walmart.

I got a tier/valance set and put the valance in the kitchen and the tier in the guest room. I got swags for the bedroom. Now all I have to do is get something for the living room.

All these window treatments are white or ivory. I wanted neutral colors where furniture and bedding of any kind are to be, so they wouldn't clash with it.

For the first time I've ever seen before, especially at a place like a department store, they had boxes of porcelain doll clothes. I got Anne a pretty pink dress with a few scattered rosebuds to replace her hideous, old-fashioned dress with small clusters of flowers on a dark blue background.

Lastly, I got a gorgeous Peruvian Barbie with the most realistic face I'd ever seen on a Barbie. She has a very pleasant face with long dark braids. She's dressed in colorful Peruvian attire right down to her sandals. Debbie makes for a great variety of these little musical dolls (she plays an old '50s song I never heard of). Melanie has brown hair, Stephanie has auburn, and Debbie's blond. Melanie has green eyes, Stephanie's are blue, and Debbie's are brown. I wonder why she has a name and the others didn't? Anyway, she's a nice-looking doll in an ivory satin dress with gold accents. She has a matching ribbon for a headband.

I decided to wait for the new headphones, to get the CD changer when we can, and not get a big Barbie. I think she'd look really tacky, especially after seeing a large Barbie head in the store (so you could do her hair).

Tom slept on and off from the time he came home this morning. He fired the generator for a while so I could type, then later I drove the car from the house to the trailer while he hauled the generator back. He had parked by the house when he got in cuz he didn't know if I'd be up. I hope to sleep well tonight, cuz there's no way I'm gonna be able to sleep in on New Year's Day. Not with all the gunfire, and also, I'm sure New Year's Eve and New Year's Day will be filled with lots of music. It fucking figures New Year's Eve and New Year's Day have to come before I could be in the insulated house, sleeping with the fan.

Anyway, this will probably be the very last time I write in the 1900s. Till the next century!

* * *

Well, I guess it isn't the last time I write this century, after all. Tom and his fucking colds! One after another after another. I'm sick of it! I knew it, too. Mom and Mary had colds when we saw them yesterday, and I knew he'd catch it. He says it's not possible to have caught it from them so fast and that he probably caught it from someone at work. I disagree. It only takes a day, but for him, five minutes is enough! He blames it on lack of sleep, but whether or not that's a factor, just knowing he's gonna have ten colds a year for the rest of his life really bums me out. It bums me out for him and me, cuz I still have to deal with it, too. I may rarely get colds, but I've had enough to know how cranky they make you. He's as hexed in the department of colds as I used to be. That isn't gonna change anytime soon. Nothing about him will change upon getting into the house. Not his eating habits. Not his lack of sleep. Not his trashing. Not his busyness. Not his lack of interest in sex/cumming.

Anyway, now that I'm done bitching, I'll probably return to reading. He's in the shower now, getting ready for work. Guess I'll also do a little singing once he leaves, too. Teresa wasn't working tonight. She said her days off vary.

I never saw Tracy tonight, but her car's still here. Her husband owns a sign-making company. They have their own company, a house, and can pay all this hotel money, so why don't they get a nicer car than the beat-up piece of shit they have?

Tom's so sure that we'll be in the house next week and that next Sunday, Tuesday, or Thursday will be our last hotel stay. Yeah, right! That's not what my logic or gut feeling tells me. I don't know what I feel anymore. All I know is that I can't believe a damn thing I hear from anyone and that I need to always assume the worst and be a pessimist. It helps lessen the feeling of disappointment when things don't work out. The house is like one big dead person we've been trying to bring to life. It's like electricity is its heartbeat and water is its lungs breathing. Will this house ever come alive?!?!

Nov 1999

11-1-1999

We're now on our way to see our new house!

I slept really well and got caught up on my sleep last night. We extended for another couple of nights. Hopefully, God won't let any rowdy kids be placed next to me, but I won't count on it.

* * *

I really oughta write before I get too backed up. I'll finish with yesterday first.

When we checked in on the 4th floor yesterday, I had us moved to the 2nd floor shortly afterward due to kids running around screaming in the halls, knocking on doors, and slamming doors.

You don't know how much I hate kids! I am so sick of them interfering with my day-to-day living. I can't dine in a restaurant in peace, I can't shop in peace, and I can't even get a room in peace some of the time. There's just no end to my being forced to deal with kids! I try to tell myself—at least they're not inside your house—but still, I'm sick and tired of kids. Not that I'd have gotten very far, but I backed out of having in vitro for a reason. That reason was that I didn't want kids to be a part of my life. I'm sick of living with blacks, Mexicans, and kids, and I resent God's forcing them on me. A person who doesn't want kids should have the right to live without them, and I wish to hell they'd have their own areas for them. They separate smokers from non-smokers in restaurants, so why can’t they have a section for kids? People want smoke-free areas, but what about scream-free areas?

Anyway, the room we were moved to is tolerable, but that doesn't mean I won't get stuck with the same shit next to me today or tomorrow.

My only other complaint about this place is, well, I thought DO NOT DISTURB meant exactly that. Why did a woman have to knock on the door and wake poor Tom up to ask if we wanted our room done when I put the fucking sign out? Well, now I'll know it doesn't do me any good to put it out if they're just gonna knock anyway.

Anyway, this room is different from most hotel rooms, and even has a microwave and a mini-refrigerator!

The main part of the room is square, rather than a rectangle, and rather than two double beds, we've got a king-size bed. We can deal with that since he's at work while I'm asleep. It not only has a big bed, but it's also got a love seat with a bed in it that folds out. Instead of the usual round table and two chairs most hotels have, we have a desk-like, rectangular table with a nice office chair.

All the pictures in here are right-side up. One of the pictures upstairs was upside down. Was the person who put it up actually that stupid? Or was it done as a joke?

We stopped at a drive-through before coming here yesterday, and I got a kid's meal cuz the adult portions tend to be too much. An interesting toy came with it. A toy car with wheels you rev up, then you set the car down and watch it take off. Tom says he loved playing with those as a kid, but I don't remember anything like it.

* * *

Still not done with yesterday. Yesterday we walked to a nearby restaurant that was not what I expected. It had a gift shop with lots of dolls. They had nice faces and clothes and weren't ridiculously priced. JBS Dolls are better, though.

I got shrimp, catfish, and steak fries, which were excellent.

We left just before 9:00 today, and although we arrived at Palm Harbor's factory 20 minutes early, we only had to wait 5 minutes for the manager to give us a tour.

The tour was great. There was only one thing Tom wasn't too happy with and one thing I wasn't too happy with.

Tom wasn't thrilled that they were putting in a furnace when all we wanted was a heat pump. He said he didn't mention it cuz he didn't want to risk the house being delayed and cuz it won't add to our costs.

I wasn't too thrilled with having a Mexican-made house. There wasn't one white person in there but the manager, but if they do the job right, other than installing a furnace we didn't ask for, I guess it's all right. I certainly can't call these Mexicans welfare bums. They were rude as usual, though, staring us down.

It was nice to see they had some women there, too.

The house was further along than we expected, and Tom felt better seeing its guts. It's one thing to be told something and another to see it. The house has 6"-thick walls instead of 4", and will be packed well with insulation. I can see how well it'd cut down sound compared to the brick house we used to have. It'll also help with cooling/heating.

The house had its floors, walls, and some of its electrical work and plumbing. No windows or roof yet, but the roof, which was suspended nearby, was about to be placed on it after its paint dried.

It sure made me feel filthy rich and spoiled rotten to see our custom-made house being built by a total of 180 people within its assembly lines! A house I chose and designed that nobody else has ever lived in.

11-2-1999

The house should have a roof now! As Tom said, though, it would've been nice to see it moved from one spot to another.

The house is due on Thursday, but when are they gonna drill the well and septic?

Yesterday I finished a book and forgot to get another one from the trailer, so I bought one at K-Mart. I read 255 of its 290 pages.

After work today, Tom will be at Mary's playing car again. Just how much of our time and money will this cursed car eat up this time? It's the water pump this time.

I got up at 8:00 when the alarm went off, made coffee in the microwave, then went to the lobby for a muffin. I returned to the room and ate it, then I let the front desk know that now would be a good time to send up housekeeping.

A woman and the supervisor, the same one that knocked yesterday, came up and were very friendly. I let them know that all I really wanted was the garbage emptied and the bed changed.

The housekeeper and I chatted a bit, and she, too, left Phoenix cuz she was just as sick of everyone wanting to be on stage and in the spotlight. She, too, got sick of always having to know what her neighbors were up to, like it or not.

I asked if they had lotion, and the supervisor generously gave me three bottles and apologized for disturbing us yesterday. She said new people were just hired and they screwed up and had the room listed as a check-out, so she thought the room was empty. No problem, I told her.

I'll write about my "free" breakfast later.

* * *

I expect it'll be hours before he gets back, knowing how car jobs always turn out to be a bigger deal than expected before we go out to the land.

Yesterday was acceptable here—just a few scattered door slams. Hopefully, God will let our last day and night here be peaceful and will let me be the childless woman that I am. But with kids being made to be part of my life anyhow, you just never know.

This place is in Phoenix, right on the Phoenix/Chandler border. No wonder the tightness and congestion are back. And we're by a major freeway, too, with lots of traffic to pollute the air.

I had $12 and change and went to the Cracker Barrel restaurant after the housekeepers left, and ordered breakfast. I ate that to the tune of babies crying (usual restaurant sound), then walked out without paying. I left $1.50 for the waitress's tip, and I would've paid if someone had been available to take my check and money, but I was ignored long enough and decided to split. Naturally, Tom would be anything but thrilled to hear this, so I'll just tell him I got a buck's worth of junk from the vending machine. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. It's nice of me to lie to him, in a sense, what with how paranoid he can get. I mean, why stress the guy out unnecessarily? I just hope he doesn't suggest we go there later and have me end up accused in front of him, but I doubt I would. I'm sure there'd be different people later, and even if there weren't, I wouldn't be remembered. Most people don't have as good a memory as I do, and that place is pretty packed, so I'm sure one walk-out now and then wouldn't even be noticed. Not unless the person left the check on the table.

I have news regarding Andy, but first I want to shower. I'm a grub.

* * *

I called Tom at Mary's. Mary answered, sounding pleasant enough (I was surprised there wasn't some hostility cuz of my getting upset with Evie). Tom was just finishing up with the car. Another surprise. I thought it'd take till 6:00. This time it ate about $50 of ours.

He's on his way here. He suggested going through a drive-through, which I happily agreed to, conveniently commenting on how sick of noisy restaurants I am. After we eat, we'll head out to the land so I can feed the animals, and this time, remember to bring a book back with me.

* * *

Tom's still not back. For now, I'm listening to next door slam its door, and I thought I heard a little kid over there, too. Figures, huh? Can I ever have just adults next to me?

I was surprised to learn that pets are allowed here. An old couple and their dog passed by me in the hall earlier, and I saw someone out walking dogs, too. Even Tom had said he saw people walking dogs.

* * *

That vicious, no-good rat Polar Bear decided to go for bite number two and got me on the knuckle. It bled, and I put a Band-Aid on it. I swear, though, if it weren't for Tom, I'd fucking kill that rat! Or better yet, I'd turn him loose in the desert for the coyotes and snakes. That rat just will not allow himself to be picked up unless it's for moving/cage cleaning. And only after the others have been moved first. I bopped him a few times and yelled at him, and as I said, it's only cuz of Tom's pleading that I didn't go any further. That and the fact that Vanilla Belly and Scuttles felt he deserved a little protection and jumped on him. Ratsy kind of acted like nothing was going on, and he stayed on his wheel. Tom was going on and on about how he's just an animal, he's blind in one eye, it's his nature to be aggressive, etc.

Then on our way back, we got held up in traffic for at least a half-hour (must've been something big going on). At least I remembered to bring something to read, and at least Gravity will be out to put the septic in on Thursday when the house comes.

I wondered if the rat attack and the traffic jam were my punishment for the breakfast I stole this morning, but I don't think so. It doesn't seem harsh enough.

Anyway, APS was out at the land while we weren't there, cuz we discovered stakes for poles they put in. So APS is on a roll; the house and septic are on their way, but will the well driller hold us up in any significant way? I kind of think so. I still feel we won't be in that house till November 20th–29th. I hope I'm wrong for the better, though.

I had a hunch they'd mail guests' mail and was right. I brought Bob's letter to the front desk on my way to get a soda.

The stupid shits screwed up again today and had us down for checking out today, and just like yesterday, our key cards expired at noon and we had to get them reprogrammed. I'm sure this had to do with us changing rooms, but either way, the service is "horrid," as Tom says. They're totally incompetent here.

I decided that I may've been too forgiving in the past, but that I was being too non-forgiving with Evie. I left her a message and let her know that I was sorry I didn't handle things well and that I understood I was being a bit immature. Also, I loved her too much to be in any hassles with her, and I shouldn't have been so selfish with my conditions. I could simply move stuff if any kids were visiting. Yes, she should've come to me first, and no, I won't be so forgiving if she does something again that I don't like, but she does have a right to discuss whatever she wants to with whomever she wants to, whether or not I agree with it. Nonetheless, I hope we can get along from here on out without offending each other. I explained that we'll be without computers for a while longer and why, then I gave her our PO box address and cell phone number.

When I told Tom about my message to Evie, he had an amused smile on his face, but what was so funny about it—I don't know, and I didn't ask.

Wow! He's actually snoring! A good 90% of the time he sleeps in hotels, though, he doesn't snore for some strange reason. I wish he'd be this quiet in the trailer. And in the house, too. Then only his talking and his movements could wake me up, but he doesn't talk that much. Not as much as he moves.

I'd have loved to have called the black bitch to see if I could get a reaction, and therefore a confirmation, that she did receive my mail. However, I couldn't remember her damn number, and she probably would've been out at the time, anyway.

As for Andy—he read it all. At least that's what he said, so maybe God did answer my prayers about that. I express myself best on paper, and I really wanted Andy, the blacks, and the Mexicans to "hear me out," so to speak. That goes for the losers back east, too. When I've got something to say, I want people to listen to me in my writing. I think that the reason I prefer getting my point across in writing is that I can then edit a sentence more easily if I decide I don't quite like the way I worded it the first time around, and so I don't get interrupted. Out of all the people I've had a heart-to-heart with upon moving, Doe, Art, and Larry would be the least likely to be such captivated readers. This is why I bluffed them. Hope the curiosity got to them!

Anyway, I knew Andy would be home, and wanted to see if he'd mention my mail or not. As usual, he was on the phone for ages, so I left several hang-up messages on his machine. Sometimes I'd breathe heavily for the hell of it.

When he finally answered, I was surprised, not surprised, and baffled by what he had to say. I wasn't surprised that he was angry and bitter and "counter-attacking" me, so to speak. He and Tom are similar in that they either accuse you of exactly what you accuse them of, or they accuse you of something, whether or not you're guilty of it, for accusing them of something.

I was surprised that there wasn't any trace of sadness in his voice, but hey, I dumped him. I didn't die.

I was sort of surprised he was willing to stay on the phone as long as he did, as he would with Quinn when they were having problems. I used to tell Andy he should just hang up right away on people he has trouble with and not bother giving them a second of his time, no matter how bored he is. As Andy always said, he doesn't give up on people easily. He's too forgiving, not that he'd forgive me any more than I'd want to resume our friendship. I just hope I haven't upset any of his other friendships. Meaning, I hope he's not afraid to continue his friendship with Michelle out of the paranoia that she'll dump him.

There were two different phone calls, but of course, I never said a word. Not surprisingly, he knew it was me and said, "Mystery, Mystery. You're so bored. Such a schizophrenic, crazy loser, so bored, so bored."

Why does he think a prank phone caller has to be bored in order to make prank phone calls? That may've been his case, but not mine, although I can sure get bored waiting for this house to be ready.

Then he said, "You're a phony, a fake, pretending to be my friend, and I believed it. Surprised I'm not eating? Should I get a Twinkie and continue this discussion? Everything you detest, you are. Just look in the mirror at that fat ugly face and you'll see." Then he hung up.

Everything I detest, I am? I don't get that one.

When I called right back after he hung up, I wasn't the least bit surprised to find him not answering the phone. He no doubt was seeing if he could get the number. Well, if he could, wait till he gets a hotel number, I thought. That ought to confuse him. He might now have had time to call here, though, in between my calls to him. He may not have found out where the calls came from till after our last chat.

In our last chat, he said, "If you have something to say, just say it. You wouldn't be calling if you didn't want to talk."

Wrong. Very wrong, Andy. I wanted to hear you talk.

I grunted at one point, and he said, "Yeah, Jodi, I know it's you, and you know I know it's you, so let's not play stupid games."

He was getting frustrated on top of being angry by this time, then the confession came. He said, "Well, I obviously can't be prank calling you now. I don't even know your number. So if someone's calling you now, don't take it out on me."

The "I obviously can't be prank calling you now" part totally confirmed my gut feeling that, yes, it was him pranking us from time to time. Any innocent person would not have used that choice of words.

By this time, I really was getting bored with him and hung up on him as he was saying, "What the fuck are you calling me for? You got what you want, you have no neighbors, you live alone, have no life..."

Live alone? I don't think so! Have no life? He wishes! I have more of a life than ever before!

11-3-1999

It's the eve of the house! It's so hard to believe it'll be here tomorrow. I just hope nothing goes wrong. We don't need any incompetent fuck-ups working for us. As it is, we're wondering things. Things like—why didn't Palm Harbor check out what roads they'd be driving the house on? When are they gonna get trees and shit like that out of the way? They have to widen the road. The house is way too wide for it. Remember, most of these dirt roads out here only get a few cars a day on them. We're so remote that we make Tammy seem like she's in a little city. She can get to a store in under 20 minutes, and she doesn't have 7 miles of dirt roads to drive on before she hits paved roads. Her nearest neighbors aren't two football fields away, either. Aside from the few main 2-lane dirt roads, most of the dirt roads are single-lane roads that look more like large paths. Some of these roads are actually driveways leading to people's houses.

Anyway, all I can do for now is hope everyone knows what they're doing: the people driving the two house halves, Gravity and his crew, APS, the well driller, etc. It's the damn well permit we're waiting on. We may be able to get the house set up quickly with electric and septic but be delayed from moving in cuz of the well, which will hold up the inspection.

They still have some standard procedures to go through, too, before the house can be set up. They've got to level the land, clear away brush, and do a termite treatment.

I did some ant treatments today. God, I hate those ants! At least you can spot them from a distance, cuz they surround their holes with those weeds that have those stickers I hate. They peel off the little stickers and use them. I don't know why they do this, but they haul pieces of it that are barely a quarter of an inch long and place them around their holes. I've seen them at work carrying the things. They have big black ants as well as little red ants.

I made myself a nice little walking trail that I not only get good exercise on but get good color as well. I walk when it's not too hot or too dark. I'd love to expand my little trail, but I can't get by these washes too easily where the brush is too dense, and you just never know what creatures could be lurking in there. It's still a good long trail, though. Way bigger than the perimeter of our Phoenix lot (these lots are numbered, and we're number 40).

At sundown, but while we still had enough light, I took him for a walk on the trail with me. He said he didn't realize how far around we were going at such a bad time for snakes, and I was like, bad time for snakes?! He says snakes are out in the early mornings and early evenings and that they're cold-blooded and cannot take heat or cold. Oh. I thought they were mostly out all through the night and were pretty much nocturnal like rats, but nope. Thank God one of us is a native and knows how this stuff works.

While we were out walking, Tom said he saw them working on the houses behind us. I'm not looking forward to people moving in there! Not the people, but their dogs. A dogless household is so rare in Arizona, and a dog that lives indoors is even rarer. Poor Gloria. She's got to be going crazy with the two collies and the three H dogs.

It’s still so weird that I don't hear dogs here every night. That group of dogs that's about a mile away was going off yesterday at dusk as we were leaving for our last night at the La Quinta, but not tonight. Tom mentioned the possibility of someone breeding greyhounds when we first heard it, and we saw one running around loose on our way into town earlier, but who knows for sure if what we heard really is greyhounds? No matter what they are, it's nice not hearing them every evening, but I still wonder why we don't. Just my inquisitive nature, I guess. Tom suggested it may have to do with the direction of the wind, but I doubt it. Those dogs were still loud enough and close enough to be heard even if the wind was blowing their barks away from us.

Tom refilled the trailer's two propane tanks today and says we won't have to empty the duty tank till we're done with the trailer cuz it's barely half full. That's nice to know we don't have to dig a hole every week to dump it. At first, I was like—all this shit, and we're only half full? But we are only here a few days a week, after all.

11-5-1999

It's here! The house is here! But it came today, not yesterday.

Yesterday was both a great day and a disappointing one.

Tom was called at work by Hilda, who said the house was on its way. He woke me when he got in at 8:00, but no one showed up till around 9:00, and it wasn't the house. It was Gravity's assistants, who never did introduce themselves. They were nice, though. The driver, a middle-aged white guy, was accompanied by a young Mexican guy. He spoke virtually no English, so while the "cowboy," as we call him, talked with Tom, Mr. Mexico and I gabbed in Spanish. He complimented my Spanish, which surprised even me, considering how long it's been since I used it regularly. Or at least a lot more than I do now. I taught him some English words.

Maybe it was my imagination or maybe I'm just crazy, but I think the guy liked me. Don't get me wrong. He was very polite and never once stepped out of line in any way, but I was like - I'm 33 years old, dude. Not to mention a good 20-25 pounds overweight. Couldn't he see this? Although there are no laws saying you can't be attracted to a middle-aged, overweight person (even if no one else agrees with the overweight part).

After the cowboy and his pal arrived, a middle-aged, skinny white guy pulled up alongside our property in a small white pickup, walked over to us with his hand extended, and introduced himself as our neighbor Dan. He lives alone in a single-wide modular diagonally to us. Behind next door (it figures that the childless guy has to be diagonal and not next to or behind us, and I know damn well that whoever ends up next to us on the other side and in front will be anything but childless).

11-6-1999

I wasn't really in the mood to write yesterday, but I am now, even if it doesn't last long.

As I was saying about Dan - he says he knows most people around here, and he too, isn't happy that the lot behind us was split into four properties. He says there's an older woman next door, her daughter, her daughter's husband, and their 5-year-old son. The couple works in Casa Grande while the older woman watches the boy. The daughter had a fiancée die nearby in a car accident years ago.

Tom, who talked with Dan more than I did, said he was nosy and talkative, but at least he found out the phone prefix out here. The stupid phone company had the nerve to suggest we ask someone out here about prefixes after swearing they have our address in their records and telling us we're in Stanfield, a little town nearby.

Anyway, Dan, who's from Indiana and who goes there during the summers, says next door watches his place while he's gone, and that they're nice people. 

Where did all this friendliness come from? You mean, there really is such a thing as quiet and friendly neighbors in Arizona? Wow! Although I don't know how quiet behind us will be once they get settled in. We've seen and heard two of the little boys that'll be living there (why are there only little boys surrounding me?). Although we were too far away to tell for sure, I think they're white, and I also heard a guy call out to a Matthew. Not a very Spanishy name.

Once they get settled in, though, as well as the rest of the people who are gonna be on that lot, I thank God they won’t be three feet away, cuz there's gonna be a ton of screaming and barking coming from there. I know it.

We've seen quails, roadrunners, lizards, and about half a dozen coyotes. Tom's seen a couple of jackrabbits, and earlier, when we were returning from Denny's, our headlights picked up some furry rodent. Maybe a gopher? Fortunately, we have yet to see a snake here, but we did cross paths with what we're pretty sure was a baby tarantula out on the road towards the back of the property. Tom stepped on it and killed it.

Dan says the high-pitched yipping we sometimes hear isn't dogs - it's coyotes. He says he has three dogs that are penned, cuz people here shoot loose dogs. Not fast enough, considering how many loose dogs we've seen. Since no one will take their dogs indoors out here, I wish they'd shoot any dog that was outdoors. I mentioned my not liking dogs cuz of their barking, and he said all you had to do was just get a good dog that doesn't bark. I'm like, how? That's what dogs do. Babies cry, cows moo, cats meow, and dogs bark. Some dogs may bark less than others, but there is no "good dog." Not unless it was dead.

I've heard cows off in the distance towards the front. Cows make pleasant sounds, but they sure do stink! I hope this place doesn't end up smelling like one big horse stall. Driving by these huge stockyards in Stanfield is miserable. Totally gross-smelling.

God, I wish I had the computer to do all the writing I want to do! I miss it! At least I got to listen to my stereo today for a while.

11-7-1999

Gosh, I'm getting more and more backed up! We're at the Hampton now (his pick), but actually, I'm here by myself cuz he's at work.

Last Thursday night we stayed at the Holiday Inn, which was $20 more than the average hotel rate around here. It was the best-decorated hotel, with lots of cactus decorations, and it had laundry rooms but wasn't worth the $20 extra in our opinion.

Friday we went to Casa Grande to get home insurance, then to a really nice buffet.

Sounds like it's finally quieted down around here. This time around is not as quiet as the other times we were here.

We had our first visitor on our land who wasn't a neighbor. A woman was doing a neighborhood census. She came knocking on the trailer door since it was more than obvious no one would be living in a house with two separate halves side by side, with their inside sides covered with plastic.

Anyway, after Dan, the cowboy, and his Mexican assistant had been around a while, I finally got to meet Gravity. As Dan said—he's a big boy. Maybe his mother knew somehow that he'd grow up to be so big and heavy, and that's why she named him Gravity. It suits him so well. He brought a Mexican assistant, too, the other Mexican's cousin.

Gravity had his tractor in tow, which he used to dig a trench and hole for our septic/pipes.

Unfortunately, we had to miss seeing the house be hauled in. They were just finishing up as we were pulling in, and I wasn't too thrilled to see one of the drivers was letting his German Shepherd run around our property. I would've ordered it into the truck had they not left when they did. How rude. Not just because some of us are afraid of dogs, but because it's rude to let your dog out to shit and piss on someone else's property.

The cowboy had to return the next day to add the grounding rod to the utility pole they put by one corner of the house, the halves of which were within inches of each other. That's to prevent people from having an easier way of stealing your appliances, even if that'd be so very unlikely to happen. The chances of that happening where we are are next to nil. Dan did say things weren't very good a few years ago, though, and that bad people moved out of the area. I don't know what he meant by "bad" people. I don't know if he meant burglars or just plain old snobs. The people that are there now sure seem to be the direct opposite of Phoenix folks. So many people wave to us on certain dirt roads out there. Nobody waves in Phoenix. They're too busy blasting music and slamming doors for people.

Tomorrow morning he's gonna do our laundry at Mary's while he visits his ma, then we're gonna check out a truck for sale in Maricopa I had a hot vibe on.

I can't wait to type this up on the computer, and as always, my typed versions may slightly differ from my written ones, as I change/add/delete things. I don't usually delete, though.

I'm on my third V.C. Andrews series, and never before have I ever heard of such a repetitious writer! Everything that happens in one series happens in another, and talk about being loaded with childbirth! Yeah, babies, childbirth, and the like still seem to be everywhere, in everything I do, see, and hear. And I thought I was once obsessed with the subject! The shit's invading my new home. Tom found an easy way into the back half through the utility door, and so I walk through the den, into the kitchen, and what do I see? A woman feeding a baby in a picture on an ad on the dishwasher! I'm like—Jesus Christ, here we go again! It's everywhere, and I still get the feeling that God's got some message behind it, but what hidden meaning could I be missing that'd make any sense?

I called Andy again, curious to hear what he may say. As always, I kept silent. I have nothing more to ever say. My final words were already mailed to him, and as he said, "You got what you wanted; I read it all."

He was so mean to Michelle tonight. I don't know if that was really Michelle I heard in the background or not, but either way, what a mean thing to say regarding her.

The first time I called, he picked up, said hello twice, then called out, "It's Mystery. Wanna torture her?" (pause) "No, we don't want to talk to you. We have a life."

Yeah, a life of smoking pot.

The second time I called, no one answered.

The third time, he again asked whoever the girl was if she wanted to talk to Mystery, then he said, "Well, start chewing. You're gonna be as fat as Michelle. You're gonna have to share clothes with her."

I don't care if someone ranked on me for how I look, but most people do, so that's why I was like—how mean to Michelle! Michelle, you got a damn good friend in Andy! Sadly, I'm sure she thinks so, although I can't forget or deny that Andy and I did have some fun times in the past.

Anyway, Gravity plowed the ground under where the house would be and made it read powdery. Then he put stakes marking the house's corners.

When I was walking around the house with tears of joy and disbelief a couple of evenings ago, words from a decade ago popped into my head. Back in '89, shortly after I'd returned to Woodside Terrace, I cleaned houses for a guy a few different times. I think his name was Jim P. He drove me to a house in...Chicopee? Wilbraham? Either way, it was a gorgeous house I'd only end up cleaning once since I couldn't really hold jobs and handle responsibility in those days. I remember being very sad and telling the woman who owned it how depressing it was to know I'd never have a nice house, too. Her response—"Someday you'll have a house that'll make this one look sick."

She was right. So very right. I never would've believed it in a million years. A house like what we got just seemed too impossible a dream to even dare to dream.

How lucky I am to have all my dreams come true, and those that haven't aren't dreams of mine anymore.

No blessing is free of flaws, though. The fucking Mexicans put dual faucets in the baths, rather than a single-lever one, but Tom says it's more likely that Steven fucked up the order, or we didn't get that package in the end. Well, at least I got more counter space than I thought we'd get in the master bath. Also, you know how I opted for dual linen cabinets in there rather than dual sinks? Well, one of the cabinets is huge! And just like with the kitchen cabinets, they've got adjustable shelves.

Also, not only are the cabinets the whitewash I chose over the oak, but so are the doors! They're even brighter than the cabinets (white) and are so bright and cheery compared to dark wood.

I got more than I thought I would as far as the Catalina window treatments go. I got like five different designs instead of three, and they're just too "clashy." The den and living room ones are ugly, with shades of yellow and dark blue, and I think they'll clash with my other decorations, so I'll probably remove most of them. I didn't know they were gonna mix so much together. I didn't know there'd be lines with flowers, and I didn't know I'd have a wooden floral border in the bathroom above the windows. This may go, too, but I love the white lace under it. Both baths have frosted windows, too. They don't open, either. This is OK, though, cuz we have fans to vent moisture.

Yesterday, a guy whose name we forgot came to level one side of the house, which took all day. Tomorrow, he's gonna do the other half and join them together, too.

It was pretty neat watching him move the back half away from the front a foot or two. He had hydraulic jacks, and as he was cranking this cable, the house slowly moved. It was so funny, too, cuz it looked like this bionic man was moving a 22,000-pound house half (I think the front half's 20,000). Our 2,100-square-foot house is about as big as they come. At 76' long, it took forever to walk alongside it!

Anyway, the guy leveled the front half with a level and water level (a hose). He put metal, cone-shaped stands on top of square cement slabs. Two rows of 15. He left his trailer there, as he asked to, and we nosed about it after he quit work for the day. He had all different sizes of stands, among other things. We're gonna put skirting around the house since we chose to keep it elevated, but it doesn't look that ugly without it.

We got here at around 11:00 this morning, but they didn't have a room ready yet, so we checked out a nearby arts and crafts store where I got a latch hook kit with a piano and rose design, a stained glass floral sun catcher, and he got a rock tumbler. I might have fun playing with that myself. We have a lot of quartz rock on our land.

The stained glass thing is a sheet of clear plastic with raised lines outlining the flowers that you apply acrylic paints to, and glitter, too, if you want, then hang it in a window. It's pretty cool looking.

I thought Tom was gonna punish me by avoiding having sex this weekend, cuz I lost my appetite for it last weekend, thanks to the little animals at the La Quinta, but I was wrong. We not only screwed, but he got off. And I laughed at him, saying I'd heard that before when he told me yesterday that our sex would be fine for making babies once we got into the house. I'm sure it would be for a man who came regularly and a woman who could conceive, and who was meant to conceive. But, not that I'm complaining, he probably won't cum again this century, and I can't and aren't supposed to conceive. Not in this life, anyway.

11-8-1999

Brian and a guy named Brandon came to level and join the house today. They were working everywhere: on the roof, underneath, inside.

When we were in the living room yesterday, we could see several other things besides rolls of carpet. There were extra roofing shingles, the air duct, etc.

It's just so cool having a house custom-built like this! It's such a neat feeling to be able to look at the house's color and know that it's that color cuz I chose it. There's tulip wallpaper in the kitchen and baths cuz I chose it. The cabinets are whitewashed cuz I chose it.

The shower stalls are pretty neat. They have seats in them. But who wants to sit down while they’re showering? Maybe an old person.

We left the Hampton, which was noisier than it ever was before, at 10:30. We were right by the stairs, which were where a lot of the noise came from. I was shocked at how many people used the stairs.

It's amazing the contrast in Andy since I left Phoenix. People sure are different when they're pissed at you. He told me so many times - I'm such a loser, Jodi. I have no life. Yet now he suddenly has a life. How convenient.

I wasn't fat the last time he saw me, but now I'm fat and ugly.

Well, hopefully he can remember the good times, but if he doesn't - he doesn't and that's just too bad for him.

I asked Tom what he thinks next door thinks about us moving in (they probably took a look at the size of the house and assumed we're Mormons). He says they're probably anxious and uncertain, now knowing what to expect. Good. Let some neighbor feel that way about us for a change. It's about time the tables turned. It'll be my turn to have those feelings again, though, the more things build up. Wait till all these little boys grow up to get loud car stereos and to have loud, wild parties while their parents are off vacationing somewhere.

He didn't get to Mary's today, so we did the laundry in Tempe in a quiet place.

Tom had to pee so bad that we stopped at the AK-Chin casino cuz he didn't think he could make it to the trailer. We gambled $10 each. He doubled his money and I lost mine, so it ended up costing nothing.

11-9-1999

Got my period today (a crampless one). Must be why he came yesterday. I doubt he'll do that again till April. At least I can never get pregnant and have to lose my life! This is how much I know God is on my side, too—he'll make sure something comes up so we can't even get together at "prime time," rather than get together without cumming. My hormones are what I believe God used to ensure me a life of freedom. I really think my hormone levels are wacky somehow.

We're now at the Fairfield Inn, which is quiet so far and gives you candy, but is otherwise not very good. Those damn Mexicans. They just can't do anything right. It was obvious our bed wasn't changed. I could tell by all the hairs on the sheets. So I had them change it. We got a king-size bed just like last time at the Hampton.

* * *

It's still been pretty quiet here; just a few door slams. I can't believe hotel doors weren't created to close quietly. You'd think they'd consider that.

OK, let me cover the day's events before I get backed up again and end up having more than just one day to update.

We left right after Brian arrived to work on the house. We were inside it right before he came. It's now joined enough that you can walk throughout the inside, but you have to step around screws and over rolls of carpet and other supplies.

After leaving, we ate at a drive-through, then Tom took us to Game Works. He still had about $15 left in games that he got through the bank. It was fun, and we ended up getting nearly 180 tickets from games, which we traded in for stuff. I got a few beaded necklaces, a picture frame with stringy, pink, shiny, crinkled paper around it, and a finger puzzle. I didn't even know what that was, but he insisted I get it, then showed me how it worked. It's a little tube of woven straw that you put a finger in, then pull on and get your finger stuck in. You have to sort of scrunch the tube together in order to get your finger out.

Tom slept for a few hours after we checked in here, then we went to Marie Callender's, and now he's asleep again till I get him up at 11:00. Marie Callender's is a huge restaurant. He got a burger, and I got the baby-back ribs/jumbo shrimp combo. It was pretty good.

Out of all the places we stayed, each has its pros and cons. I like how this place has coffee available in the lobby 24 hours a day. They even have laundry available. Although there were only one washer and one dryer, I was surprised to see them unused and without a ton of people waiting to use them. I'm sure that if I had wanted to use them, there'd be a ton of people trying to use them, too. Although the tub is shitty, cuz its back is straight up and down so you can't comfortably lay back, this place has the best shower. Most places are too wimpy, but this one's got a massager on it, so you can make it pretty hard.

11-10-1999

This hotel is turning out to be the best. The only thing it lacks is a coffeemaker, but I don't mind going downstairs for coffee. They have both decaf and regular to choose from, and they have French vanilla.

It's been quiet overall. Just a few scattered door slams. Tom said the walls are wicked soundproof, cuz as he was leaving for work last night, he could hear next door's TV blaring into the hall, which we never heard in here.

Tom called at 8:00 and got me up, then he called again after he ate a half-hour later. He went to see his ma and do Mary's threshold, then I headed down to the continental breakfast, where there was only one person. There haven’t been many people here.

As I was heading out, I saw the younger Mexican girl who changed our sheets standing by her cart. I asked her in English for a Do Not Disturb sign, since we never had one. I should've known better than to have asked in English, so I asked in Spanish. Then she called out in Spanish to Mario, the maintenance guy, as the old Mexican lady (the boss) who was with the younger one yesterday came up to me and said, "Yes?" I asked again for a sign, and they gave me one. The older one then moved further down the hall, and in Spanish I told the younger one we didn't need service today as Mario and I were heading for the elevator. The older one called, "¿Señora? ¿No servicio hoy?"

I replied, "No servicio, gracias," then hopped into the elevator.

"Beautiful Spanish," complimented Mario.

When I returned, the young one smiled at me with mixed emotions. It was cool that the white girl knew Spanish, but she had to have gotten a verbal warning, if not a written one, for not changing our sheets.

Although Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, and the like are notoriously lazy, I understand how easy it is for anyone to want to laze out of a bed or two. I know. I was once a housekeeper, too, and here and there I didn't bother changing sheets, but I was smart enough to at least pluck the hairs off first.

I dozed off for about an hour this morning, then when Tom came in at 10:00 and extended us for another night, we were given a bag of treats cuz of the sheets. This was a really nice gesture. It contained two small bottles of water, two bags of cookies, two Ritz crackers, two Rice Krispies bars, figs, and cheese crackers.

We headed for the house to take care of the animals and check the house's progress. At least Brian's making good time cuz Gravity's not, and who knows when we'll have a well.

My view from my "office" is really neat. I can see a row of about half a dozen palm trees off in the distance that's a few miles away. Right now, there's nothing but a little bit of natural desert and a lot of farmland in front of the house.

Here goes Tom talking in his sleep again. I couldn't make out what he said this time.

We spent about a half-hour on the land, where I ruined my sunglasses. They just weren't dark enough, so I painted them purple, using the paint I used on the plastic suncatcher, hoping to darken them. Instead, all I did was make them too ripply, so I couldn’t see well through them.

After we left, we went through a drive-through, came up here, and now he's in bed. I'll be listening to music and latch-hooking for the remainder of the day.

* * *

I guess it's not gonna be very full tonight, either. I just went downstairs for coffee, and I never passed a soul along the way.

* * *

Again, I didn't pass a soul.

I finished the second out of a four-book series by V.C. Andrews. It's a little series compared to the other two I read that had five books with 400 pages each. This four-book series only has 150 pages each. Actually, there is a fifth book in this series (I don't know how many pages), but it's not due out till next month.

Tom finally received his yearly planner and pen from Ashton-Drake.

I forgot to describe the games we played yesterday. He played a basketball one, but it didn't give tickets. Another game we played against each other, which also didn't give tickets, was a mini bowling game thing. We played a slot machine-type game and a Jet Ski race that you sit on and that shakes while you see an image of a jet water skier on a big screen in front of you. My favorite game was this thing where you throw balls down a narrow strip and up into these bins. Your points depend on which bins you get balls in.

* * *

Went downstairs and got an apple along with my coffee. They had the usual for breakfast—muffins and cereal. I think they had bagels and yogurt, too. This morning I grabbed a couple of mini chocolate chip muffins. I'd better enjoy all this eating now, cuz as soon as we get into that house, all this eating has to stop, and it will stop.

I've decided to place one call to Andy each time we're in a hotel. I'll leave hang-up messages when he doesn't answer. He answered when I called him just now, but I hung up as soon as he did. I wasn't in the mood tonight to hear anything he may've said. Having Tom right here kind of dampens my curiosity, too.

I wonder if Andy ever got the numbers I called from. I wonder if he'd have been confused getting numbers from the La Quinta, the Hampton, and here. Or maybe he figured we were in the house already (I never mentioned the layover) and that I wouldn't be dumb enough to allow him to get my number. It's quite amusing to think about, but I'm certainly not gonna be doing this in the house, even if I can block our number from there and even if it's not long distance. This is strictly a hotel game.

11-11-1999

Back at the trailer now till Sunday. I ended up enjoying my stay at the Fairfield Inn, even though last night was bangier than the first night. There were more people. Just for the hell of it, I called the room next door and told them to shut up. "You have the wrong number," the cock was saying as I was hanging up.

Thank God housekeeping at the Harley in Enfield, CT, wasn't as it is out here. Out here, housekeeping's nothing but Mexicans. No white people at all do hotel housekeeping.

Like an idiot, I slept till he came in at 10:00 and brought me a letter from Paula. It was a nice letter I was happy to get, and I did write back, explaining all the events from when we left Phoenix till now. She enclosed two pictures. One of her son and one of her car. Like, I really care? I mean, I'm glad she's got a car and her son's nice, but what about her? I'm just not meant to ever get a picture of her. She did, however, request my email address, saying she wanted to send me pictures, so who knows? I let her know, though, that I won't have access to the computer for a while yet.

She basically asked why she hasn't heard from me. She enclosed a phone number, but I'm not gonna call. Nor am I gonna give her our cell phone number. I explained that we have to pay for incoming calls we get and that we ain't that rich (although I'm sure we're just about the richest people in Maricopa. One look at our house will tell you that much. Also, we made over $32,000 this year). I told her we probably won't get regular phone service, even though, in truth, I'm sure we will. I just don't want to go back to the constant calls from her, even if she pays for them. I gave her our PO Box address.

Here we go again with the barking. Yeah, it's been a bad dog night. There must've been a loose dog nearby cuz its barking sounded too close to have been coming from the nearest houses. I've heard barking coming from all different directions.

After leaving the hotel, we went to Game Works again, where we played that skeeball game again that I like, and a couple of slot machine games, too. We won nearly 400 tickets, and I got a yellow teddy bear and a purple and a blue picture frame to go with my pink one.

We bought most of our furniture, too, and I think I may've forgotten to write about the living room set we bought a few weeks ago. Both stores we got furniture from are gonna deliver to us, but before we knew this, Dennis, who's so incredibly nice, offered to haul it here in his truck for us. He's also gonna hunt really hard to find us a truck. Well, we certainly haven't had any luck ourselves.

Anyway, the living room set I chose isn't what I expected. It's better. It's a soft, crushed velvet-like type of material. It's solid black with gold trim. We got a couch, a love seat, and a chair. Got three glass tables, too, with gold and black. The tables we can fit in the car. The tables are tempered glass. Not the wood and light-colored floral fabric I planned on originally, but man, is it gorgeous!

Got a beautiful gold spider lamp to go with it, and I almost bought this other really gorgeous lamp, but I decided to make my own instead. It had a mauve-colored shade with mauve-colored flowers in a glass base, but I decided to get K-Mart's glass jar lamps and put some of my own silk flowers in them.

We got two black stools for the breakfast bar and a black kitchen table with four black velvet chairs with gold and blue streaks throughout the seats and backs.

Instead of getting a tall dresser, a headboard, and two nightstands for the bedroom, I got one nightstand and a long dresser. These are whitewashed with gold trim. The nightstand has two drawers, and the dresser has a mirror.

Now all we need to get is a washer, dryer, entertainment center, computer desk, a brown wooden nightstand to match the brown wooden dresser in the guest room, and a double bed for that room, too.

We've spent a total of $2,406.31 on furniture so far. Tom thinks we're right on track, but I think we're ahead of what we budgeted by $400–$600.

11-12-1999

The dogs have settled in for another night of barking. Last night was the worst dog-barking night since we've been here. It began as the sun was setting, as usual, and continued on till around midnight. Some of the dogs sounded close enough to be loose and on our property, but we didn't find any tracks. Maybe some were coming from next door. Having them live two football fields away isn't always helpful when you've got nothing in between to buffer sounds, but we'll get a wall up of some kind. At least it's only for a few hours a day, and it sure beats noisy blacks and Mexicans with their fucking ball games and music blaring a few feet away.

No more Friday night stress! Normally, I'd be so stressed out at this time, knowing their company had to be mine, too, but no more!

I hope these Mexicans are really dumping their shit on those greedy fucks that bought our house. They did send Hilda a bill, after all. The moochers wanted more than $250, but Hilda let them know that's all they're getting. I made Tom promise not to give them one more dime if they try to weasel more money out of us in a few months from now and to drive me to that house to deal with them in person. He agreed. He said he's only giving them the money to avoid the hassle of having to go to court, even though we know damn well we'd win cuz they never set up a final walk-through.

Well, they'll hear from me one last time, and that's my promise. It just may not be for a while.

We think one of the reasons so many dogs suddenly start going off at sundown is cuz of the coyotes. Coyotes get more active and start howling when it gets dark. We were outside earlier and heard about three of them howling, and it sounded so cool.

I've seen some wild horses in some of the really deserted pieces of land.

Tom says that the land in front of us isn't part of this subdivision. It's not part of an Indian reservation, but it could be some kind of government land. We'll have to see if we can find out who owns the land in front and to our right and what their plans are.

It'll be a shame when they tear down "Psycho Soldier's" house. This is an abandoned single-wide trailer a few miles from here with military camouflage on it.

It's a surprise just to see how many deserted houses there are out here. Also, there's such a huge mix of nice houses and rundown ones. Mostly rundown ones, though, that are pretty old.

Tom said Maricopa must be a bit of a depressing town filled with broken dreams. This subdivision was somebody’s failed dream. The four or so acres of dead trees in the center of town are obviously someone's dead dream. We're not sure what the trees were or what they were supposed to do with them, though.

Speaking of my dream, which is to get moved into that house for once and for all, I'm finding little things I'm not too thrilled with, but I understand that nothing and no one's perfect. The stupid Mexican left a globe off one of the lights. Also, Tom says he thinks Brian's done a good job, but I feel like he's been cutting corners and weaseling out of jobs like putting door handles on all the doors. We agreed we'd do these little things ourselves so we can get in there faster, like cover some of the wallboard's staples that are showing, but we shouldn't have to. This should've been done already.

At least Brian's leaving us some goodies. Wall strips, caulking, and odds and ends like that.

I marked my vibes on the calendar with Tom yesterday, and some of them aren't great. I vibe the carpet layer coming Monday and the electricity being taken care of by next Wednesday, but that fucking well, among other things like inspections, could take longer than we'd like. Tom still thinks we can get in the house between the 20th and 24th, before Thanksgiving, but I don't think we'll be in there till the 29th or 30th. Maybe not even until the first week of December, even though we have papers guaranteeing us that we'll be in by December 1st.

11-13-1999

Starting off on a sad note—Vanilla Belly died today. Tom told me he didn't think he was acting right ever since moving here, but all he seemed to me was a bit lazier, but I guess something was wrong all along, and I just didn't see it. Tom buried him in front of the trailer. I'm gonna really miss him. He was a bit shy but very loving. He was so big, and I liked how he looked like your traditional brown rat, yet also had a touch of color. He had a sprinkle of white hairs besides a patch of white on his belly and chest.

He never appeared to have any tumors, and neither did/does Mocha, who seems to be dying, too. It's the weirdest thing I ever saw. When I got her, she looked like a normal mouse who was pregnant, but now she doesn't look pregnant at all, and her back legs look odd. Like they've been disjointed and are too long for her. It's like they're suddenly deformed and are sticking out at the hips, too, making her look anorexic. Tom said he thought she looked like she was having trouble breathing. Yeah, I thought so, too, but she is getting around. I've even seen her wheeling.

Today was a pretty leisurely day. I didn't go anywhere for the first time in ages (it was dead quiet all day, and I've heard very little after-dark barking), but he did. He went to get us some lunch and to get more gas. He also dug a hole behind the trailer to dump the shit tank in. It stunk, too!

Baby Scuttles is really growing. I want him to stay my cute little Scuttles, but I also want him to get fat enough for the other cage so he can't squeeze through the bars.

Last night I slept with an earplug in. The foam kind that was pretty useless for me in the NHA did great at blocking out his snoring, but he did wake me up a few times when he shook me awake by shaking the trailer when he'd toss and turn, and then when he got up.

I never finished with all we did Friday.

We went to a Chinese/American buffet, then to a close-out store next door. I bought an OK-fitting skirt for $5 and a shitty-fitting dress for $5. As Tom agreed, it wasn't cut right, and that's why it ended up at that store.

I got a bundle of purple flowers with a touch of yellow. I know the name of these flowers but forgot it. I've got to get some vases, though.

Tom picked up a cheap set of utensils and a small frying pan for making hot dogs.

Oh, I also got a couple of silver pin barrettes to hold my bangs to the side.

Later on, at the grocery store, I got a cute little musical doll which I named Melanie. It plays the Barbra Streisand song The Way We Were. It's a sitting doll with a nice face for just $13. She has brown hair, green eyes, and wears a dress that's a color between maroon and brown. She has white patterned stockings with cream-colored shoes. Her hair has two braids on each side of her head. Her music box broke shortly after I got it. Such shit doll luck.

11-14-1999

We're at my favorite hotel now—the Fairfield Inn. He just left for work, and I'm finishing up the laundry here, which sure beats Laundromats! We're on the first floor for the first time, at the end of the hall. The washer/dryer is at the other end of the hall by the front desk, so I don't have to lug the clothes up and down the elevator.

I decided that "mysterylin" has to go. If I'm gonna change cities and addresses, I may as well change screen names, too. This way I can unlock my mail controls when I want to without having to worry about hearing from anyone I don't want to hear from. I thought of names like doll99, rodent99, but I think I'll try for desertwinds99.

* * *

Laundry's all done. So now I'll cover what we did today, things about the house, then the bad news last.

After leaving the land, we stopped at Circle K in Maricopa for cookies for both of us, coffee for me, and soda for him. Then we went through a drive-through near here, then came here. We came at 1:00 and were told no rooms would be available till 3:00, so we sat out front for a while browsing through truck ads. Only a few looked like they had any potential. We got machines or no answer on most of them, but there's this one we may check out.

We went to K-Mart to look at household things we want for the house, but all I got, since the car and trailer are pretty packed and since I don't want to put anything in the house till it's carpeted, was a picture I didn't expect to get. It's a pretty good size for just $6, too. I was looking for desert cactus pictures, but instead I came across a picture of a beautiful Indian woman (a copy of an oil painting).

For window treatments, we have flowers and crisscross lines in the master suite (bedroom, bath, and retreat). The den and living room have this very boring yellow and dark blue pattern, the kitchen has crisscross lines, and the other three bedrooms have stripes. The stripes are fairly colorful, and they can stay cuz I really don't have to worry about them clashing with anything. The retreat's flowers and crisscross designs can stay, too, but the bedroom has to go. I want to get solid-colored drapes in there, so they won't clash with the comforter. I want a white or cream-colored lace for the kitchen, and I'm not sure about the den and living room. The bathroom windows are frosted, and they don't open. Maybe I'll take the flowers and crisscrosses that are in the master bath and put them in the den, since all they really need is the lace valance under it. And maybe I'll wrap my silk flower vine around the living room rod.

The lowest part of the ceiling is 7' and the highest is 9'. I've got three walls picked out where there's no slant above them where the wall/ceiling meets for mini-murals. I still may get borders, too, but definitely not door murals.

I don't exactly have a place to hang wind chimes yet, so I sort of wish one of our ugly minute trees, which have a lot of bare branches, were near the house. I could hang them on that.

Perhaps it's only normal, and perhaps it's lazy, stupid Mexicans and their sloppy workmanship, but we've been finding some imperfections with the house. The breakfast bar is tilted. Maybe it won’t show as much with stuff on it, though. Also, they put the dining room light switch in an odd place: on the back wall by the door. The fucking cocks did a sloppy, half-assed job with the trim on the bottom of the kitchen island, and only half a trim job in the entry area. The fourth bedroom's door doesn't close all the way and needs sanding. We have a lot of wall panel staples showing, too, that we have to caulk.

Hopefully, the carpet will be down tomorrow. Then he can call Hilda to see if a cleaning crew is gonna go through there or what. I'd hope so, cuz it'll be a lot of cleaning to be done, but at the same time, I may as well do it myself to get in faster. We just want in!!! Even if that means tying up loose ends ourselves.

I'm getting a bit tired, so if I don't get to the shitty news today, I will tomorrow. Tom says I have nothing to worry about other than typical dog barking. God, I hope he's right!!!!!

11-15-1999

I hope our house is being carpeted right now!

Anyway, things here continue to be quiet. Just a few door slams and hardly any people. Tonight might be different, though. There may be more people and more banging.

OK, here's what I feel is a nasty vibe and what he feels is pure paranoia on my part. Yesterday morning, a little white pickup that I've seen drive by before pulled up between the house and trailer, which, by the way, could fit our old house, the freeloaders’, and the collies between it. He introduced himself as George P, the guy who owns the 10 acres behind us. He said that he's retired and bought several lots that he split up and rented. Yeah, you heard right—he's renting the four lots in back. I moved out in the middle of nowhere, and I still have renters next to me to deal with! They may not be subsidized blacks or Mexicans that are three feet away, but tell me they're not going to be noisy, and I'll tell you you're full of shit! Tom says the worst thing they'll do is trash their place, but I know better. If no car stereos are blasting in and out, which Tom says their electrical connectors couldn't hold up to over these bumpy roads, then there'll be loud music coming from their houses. And remember, they make even the dumpiest stereos so bassy nowadays that it doesn't even have to be "loud" to be heard in our house. Tom says we're too far away for them to blast music loud enough for us to hear cuz it'd blow their eardrums out. No, it wouldn't. Dogs bark loud enough for us to hear without blowing their owners' eardrums out. Granted, they are outdoors, but that's just the thing—I think they'll have windows open and music playing from outside.

We know there'll be dogs to listen to, cuz George told us one of the guys moving in is planning on getting a Retriever. Yeah, I'm sure he is.

He says he only has two of the four lots rented so far, and that he was gonna buy our lot, too, to split and rent, but I guess something was on next door's side. OK, great. God looks out for them, but who looks out for me? And I let George know just how I feel, too. He claims he's gonna sell, but so what? It's still too many damn people over there. That's all the more dogs and people I have to listen to till we get a wall up, and even then, nothing blocks out the sound perfectly.

He says they're moving in next week, and that one more house is to be brought in. So the house we thought was on the closest lot to us isn't really the closest to us. There's gonna be three houses running nonparallel to our land in the back, then one property behind the three properties. The front house, which I guess isn't rented yet, may sort of buffer sounds from the two behind it, but still, I know they're gonna be a problem. And I'm not gonna call George (he gave us his card) when the parties get out of hand. I'm not gonna be stupid enough to complain to him just so he can tell them to quiet down so they can get even noisier. I simply have to take care of this one myself, and I will. No more neighbors’ noise! I mean it! They're not gonna force their noise and their lifestyles on me. I'll be damned if I put up with their shit, and I don't care what color they are! I won't stand for it out there in our new home! And I was a fool to think God was finally releasing me from his near-decade-long obsession with pummeling me with neighbors' noise! Yeah, well, this is it. It's over! I'll fight for my right to peace within the walls of my own home, even if it means getting a gun and killing them all.

Tom says he's 97% sure that all we'll hear from them are dogs. Yeah, right! And pigs can fly. Well, I'll shut them up ASAP. I'm not taking another eight years of this fucking shit everywhere I go.

I reminded Tom that before we even bought the land, I vibed it building up and getting noisy once we moved in. Well, these renters moving in are quite a coincidence so far, wouldn't you say? Especially when I have an 80% accuracy rate.

I also reminded him that Dan was upset about all this, too, and that had to be a reason. He said Dan would be worried about them not maintaining their place, not about them being noisy. If it were a case of them simply trashing the place—fine. Any trash that made it to our property would be barely noticeable, what with how big it is, unlike with the filthy Mexicans in Phoenix.

George said that in the farthest house were three people. Two kids and one adult, I thought, cuz I saw two little boys head over there twice, but Tom thinks it'll be one kid and two parents. In the middle will be a single guy with a girlfriend, and this is the one I'm more worried about as far as music, parties, and vehicles coming and going, but Tom says he thinks it'll be a guy like Dan.

* * *

I have more bitching I want to do about the problem coming behind us, but first, we went to Game Works again, and I had fun playing skeeball again. Then I found the best ticket-spitting game I wish I knew about all along. It's this needle that spins till you stop it, and you win the number of tickets it lands on. Of course, I missed the jackpot several times by one spot. I think most of these games are rigged like most slot machines are in casinos. Anyway, it was a lot of fun playing both games, although next time I'm just gonna play this spin thing and rake in the tickets so I can get more little velour teddy bears. This time, though, we set out to win 1,000 tickets, and according to the guy at the prize counter, I had 1,040 tickets after we counted something like 850. Tom says they usually say you have more. I guess so. So, I got what I wanted most—a disco light. It's really cool. Nice and colorful. I have it going now in our hotel room.

* * *

Changed my mind. For 600 tickets, I think I'll get a lava lamp or one of those lights with purple streaks of light that look like lightning bolts.

I was pissed to find no one came to the house at all. No carpet layers, no APS, no well drillers—no one. Tom still believes we'll be in the house by Thanksgiving. I wish, but that ain't what I think! I think we have another two to two and a half weeks to go and that we won't get in there till just after my birthday.

Now for the latest Andy news—I did get mail from him after all. I was wondering when he, or someone, was gonna forward mail to me. Someone other than Paula, Kim, or Bob.

It took me a few minutes to remember and unravel the mystery. When Tom came in, he gave me an envelope with no return address on it, and I immediately recognized my own handwriting. I knew I didn't send myself anything, though, and wondered if Tom was playing a joke on me, even though this didn't seem to be his style. Then I remembered. When Andy went through all that bullshit talk about moving back east, I sent him font samples to pick out for letters and enclosed a SASE for him to mail his selections back in. He never used that envelope, though. I never knew why he didn't, and I never questioned it, but he used this envelope and enclosed one of my little sheets of paper with mumbo-jumbo on it. But what surprised me was—that was it? No writing or decorations on the envelope? No enclosing anything else, like a fuck-you letter? He really does hate to write.

Tom said that it gets even weirder, cuz we've got mail waiting for us that's too big for our box. At first, I thought it was a CD from one of his computer clubs or something like that, since I couldn't imagine anyone I knew sending me something that big, but then Tom said he knew what it was—our house payment coupons.

I called Jamie at the doll store, who said the dress wouldn't be ready for another couple of weeks. That's OK. She won't be together for a few weeks yet, anyway.

11-16-1999

We're back at the trailer now, and since being here, I've heard a vehicle drive by at least twice, as far as I know (yeah, they'll be passing by more and more as they get closer to moving in). The last time, I could've sworn I heard music. I know I heard music. I am gonna be made so miserable once these people get here till I put a stop to it. Why, God? Huh? Why do you insist I listen to others? You really will never let me live in peace, will you? It really is an impossible dream for me.

Anyway, Gravity's fucked up on putting in our electric pole again. How many years of experience is this cock supposed to have? Naturally, I feel Tom's being too nice about it. This man just can’t speak out and put his foot down to save his life, and whenever I'm upset with someone, he defends them.

These fucking "professionals" have a contract saying they have to be done by the 1st, but at the rate they're going, we don't stand a chance of getting in by then.

No one's living behind us yet. I can tell this due to the lack of screaming and house music, and I don't hear any new barks yet, either. They won't play their car stereo really, really loud, though, till they do move in.

Anyway, it's obvious God wants me to survive, in the sense of the word, and I knew he wouldn't ruin our lives by having us sell our house only to have the loan fall through and end up indefinitely homeless (or in apartments). But why, oh why, won't he leave me the fuck alone with neighbors' noise? Why is it so important to him that they be a part of my life? Is it compensation for not having to listen to a kid inside my own home for 18 years? What is it? Just what the fuck is it?

George said his supplies were stolen. He's some type of engineer, I guess, who works on houses, and he says someone stole his carpet and tiles, but we think it was someone working for or with him that did it cuz he seems like he could be a real bold, arrogant little shit that someone would do that to.

How do I know the vehicles, especially the one with music, were in fact connected to behind us when I never saw them? I just do. As I said, I know what God has in store for me. He wouldn't let me live in peace in the middle of the fucking Arctic.

Tom says I'm a "skinny little thing." Not at 122 pounds (we weighed ourselves on a scale in the store). Not according to the mirror. Yeah, I undid over a year's worth of work in just a couple of weeks. I still can't believe it shows in my face, neck, and hips now, too, and not just my stomach and thighs. My tits are 36-B. I'm no Dolly Parton, but I sure miss the little mosquito bites I used to have for boobs!

Well, if we can just get into the fucking house, I can start losing weight and toning up with a new home gym, but for now, I can cut down on the shit I've been having.

I also can't wait to take a break from being on a schedule (can't believe I've been on one for three months now!). I want to take a break from alarms and just get up whenever I wake up for a change. At least for a couple of weeks.

I'm gonna tear these pages out after I've typed them, then rebind the typed version in here. Meanwhile, rather than dump all this writing, I'll send this to Paula.

There goes another vehicle. Indeed, they may not have turned down Meadow Green, much less been connected to the place in back, but it's no shock to me we've got all these people moving in, and I'm hearing more vehicles. Most of them have to be connected. Getting closer.

Tom reminded me that people out here don't want to draw attention to themselves as they do in Phoenix; it's a different lifestyle, the roads are too bad for a lot of company, and they're too far out for a lot of company. He can say this all he wants, but these will be anything but rural folks. Maybe the family won't do music (just barking and screaming), but the guy and his gal pal will certainly do it all. I'll take care of them, though, trust me. This ain't Phoenix no more. Here, there are no laws. You got a problem with someone—you shoot them. Unless Tom wants to sell off our property in chunks like George did so he never has to work again, I'm not moving. I'll fight for my peace and home this time, even if I have to literally kill for it.

* * *

Now I'll cover where we went today.

Poor Tom wasted time standing in line forever at the PO for that thing that was too big, which turned out to be a computer CD that was for the guy who had our box before us.

We went to K-Mart and Walmart and got many of the household items we need, but we still need to get doormats, an extra hamper, and new pails for the offices and baths. Of course, his mom will be in the guest suite on weekends.

I still want to get a cushion for the car, too, to boost me up to shield me from the sun better, and some for the blue chairs I'll use in the retreat.

I've decided to wait on the murals and the big Angel Barbie. Yeah, they have this really cool huge Barbie I want to get someday.

I got those glass jar lamps I mentioned. A big one for the living room and two little ones for the retreat and office. One of the lampshades I picked out is a pink floral shade, and the others are white. One has gold trim. I'll put flowers in them.

I got a couple of bras and a beautiful velvet purple dress for only $10 that's like a T-shirt dress. Freesia floral body mist, a couple of pairs of batteries, and more earplugs, I also got.

Got air and fabric fresheners, a new, bigger salt and pepper shaker set that's nothing fancy. Just plain glass ones like in a restaurant.

I also got a dish/cup/glass/bowl/silverware set with a beautiful pansy design. Summer Blush, the theme's called. I liked it better than the garden one. Got pink floral dish towels, too.

For the baths—can I ever get 20 things in a row without a problem? Every time I buy stuff, something's got to be broken. I can't get past buying 15–20 things without a problem. I got two cute soap dispensers for each bath with floating swans and ducks (the soap goes in a chamber below it), and one of them has a broken pump. Got a couple of toilet brushes, and since we rarely use washcloths, I got two new ones and four bath towels. We don't bother with hand towels, so I didn't get any. I got a purple and a pink washcloth. For towels, I got purple, pink, light pink, and light blue.

11-17-1999

Just made my hotel call to Andy. I forgot to even bother the last time around. Actually, I gave him two hang-ups on his machine cuz he didn't answer.

We're at the Southgate Motel now, rather than a hotel, cuz they all seem to be booked. The Fairfield's booked, the Hampton's booked. Something's obviously going on nearby.

This place, which is the most old-fashioned of all, has real keys and its doors outdoors, like at that dive in Scottsdale. There are stairs you go up and a little walkway that goes down by the rooms, so you have an outside hallway. I expected it to be the noisiest, but so far, it's actually the quietest. With the fan on, anyway. Maybe it's cuz there's no hall for door slamming to echo in.

The place doesn't even have wall lamps. Their lamps sit right on the nightstands. We got a king-size bed on the second floor (it only has two floors), and the bed is awful. The worst thing about the place (I'd rather that than noise). I'll have to sleep on the pillows and make sure I get my exercise mat to sleep on when we go to the trailer tomorrow (we're booked for two nights). The carpet is old, worn, and stained, but softer than usual. It also has a little refrigerator and microwave.

There were a couple of not-so-impressive postcards in here. I wrote one up for Paula, then decided it wasn't worth the stamp just to jot her a few lines. I'll send her a real letter with more than just five sentences. I made up the other one with gibberish for "Deb Fanny." Tom agreed it was funny, but said it'd stir things up. I know he's just being paranoid, but that's OK. I won't mail it. They're not worth it.

Target was the first store we went to, and I got four awesome pails! They're small-medium size and are for both baths, the retreat, and my office. I got two that are like soap dispensers with floating objects in oil and water at the bottom. One's frogs and pink water lilies in green oil. One's fish in blue oil. One's just clear plastic with flowers. One's cartoonish with lots of bright colors.

Got another clothes hamper and a pretty aqua-colored washcloth, so now we've got three.

I looked at pictures, and although I did find some nice ones, no big desert ones yet.

Because I'm a woman of variety, the house won't have any specific theme decoration-wise. I've got everything from a picture of a sexy Indian lady, a disco light, dolls, and another broken music box. Yeah, I just had to get the broken one today at Walgreens, and I swear—it was not broken when I bought it, and I did not handle it rough enough to break it. It's a swan figurine of spun glass with a little pink flower and pink bow that sits on a rotating mirrored base. Fortunately, though, it can be glued back in place and still look nice, even though a piece is missing (the swans broke free of the base). It's not like I wanted to play its music, anyway. I just thought it'd make a nice decoration, and I always liked these since the first time we saw them nearly a year ago.

Originally, I had planned on getting a cactus clock and cactus plate, but this Walgreens didn't have them, so I got the musical swans and a four-pack of body mists. I should've gotten this $8 4-pack rather than the one big $8 bottle. The scents are water lilies, sparkling strawberries, Hawaiian ginger, and turquoise seas.

We also stopped in Radio Shack, where I found the perfect pair of headphones for my stereo for $50, rather than $100 like at Best Buy.

* * *

This is definitely the quietest place we've stayed at. Not one slam or bang.

Our third and final trip to Marie Callender's was a disaster, and this time I mean it when I say I'll never go to a restaurant again. Ever! Only drive-through places. It wasn't only due to screaming, unruly kids who had to run around the place like wild animals, either. The service was absolutely horrid. I feel guilty for the way I handled it, too, but I just couldn't imagine sitting there without uttering a word and keeping it bottled up. I had to speak out, be blunt, get to the point, and defend both my husband and myself. Mark my words, though—that waitress is extremely lucky I didn't go in there in a foul mood to begin with, or else I'd have kicked her ass to hell and back.

First, the bitch claims they were having some sort of problem, so she asked for our credit card and had us pay before eating. Then, we ordered. I asked her to hold the extra sauce from my ribs and chicken, but then, when she served me, I had the extra sauce. Also, she served me first. That was rude. Everyone should be served at the same time. So I reminded her that I asked that the extra sauce be held, and she kept insisting I couldn't do that. When I told her I did it the other night, she said I didn't have to get mad and that she'd fix it. I wasn't "mad," although I was reasonably frustrated at this point. She did fix it. But when she brought my fixed food, apologizing like hell, she also brought Tom's burgers and fries. Well, the fuck of a cook apparently couldn't handle my complaint and sabotaged his fries with way too much spice. They were loaded with chili pepper. This was obviously in response to my having my food sent back, but why the little shit botched his food and not mine, and why there was no problem returning a too-raw steak at Denny's one time, beats me, cuz this fuck's reaction was your classic reaction. So damn typical! Why is it so hard for someone to just redo something and move on? Everyone's gotta be so fucking sensitive and take everything so personally.

So the waitress returns to ask us how things are. We mention the fries, then she asks him to sign the credit card thing without even offering a discount as Denny's did, and I'm like—whoa, whoa! How about one after all this shit? Then she says something about taking care of it, and I ask to speak to the manager. So the manager comes, we tell her the scoop, she says it's an insult to accuse her cooks of sabotage, she says her cooks wouldn't do that (yeah, they're perfect little angels), and on and on and on. When I realized she'd just sit there and make excuses all night, I took the credit card and receipt to sign and said, "Look. Let me tell you bluntly how it's gonna be. We're not paying for this. Period."

Meanwhile, Tom had momentarily pushed his plate away from him, and I was under the impression he wasn't gonna eat his burger. The manager claims she refunded us, it was over, and so we left. Well, we sure hope it's over. Amazingly, the Siesta Suites didn't rip us off, according to the statement we just got, but will they? This is why I hate these damn credit cards, as I told Tom. You may as well hand out blank checks to people so they can just help themselves to whatever they want.

Anyway, to wrap this story up, Tom was upset that I bluntly refused to pay and that he didn't get to eat his burger. He wanted to at least eat that, then argue over the bill. He said not to feel bad about it, but I do, and from now on, whenever we have a problem with someone, I'll just sit there with my mouth shut and let him handle it, no matter how much my blood's boiling. I'm so sick of people and their incompetence and the problems they cause. I can't wait to hibernate in that house, away from people. People are such stupid assholes.

Oh, and the manager also tried to tell us they season all their fries. Uh-huh. Sure they do. Just like the first two times we were there, right?

11-18-1999

Gosh, it's almost Friday already. We still have biweekly sex, although sometimes 3–4 weeks pass in between sex. I'm glad I've gotten used to this, and I wish to hell I could know I'll get used to the hunger once I begin dieting, but it never goes away. Not for me, it doesn't. Anyway, whatever we do sex-wise, he won't be squirting this time. Not with me close to mid-cycle and with his cumming just two weeks ago. It still strikes me as odd how God sees to it that he doesn't cum during mid-cycle, although he has a few times. That was quite some time ago, though. I know part of it is Tom himself, but if God can do anything, why put such effort into it and work at the timing and all that? I still say—why not just see to it that I need a hysterectomy? Why work at it needlessly?

Again, not a sound since we returned around 5:00. I let the housekeeper do her thing today, but she didn't change our sheets. That's OK. The stuck-on booger is way up by where the bed meets the headboard. We noticed this yesterday, if this is really what it is.

APS finally came out today to do their thing, but once again, we're waiting on fucking Gravity. He needs to get his ass out there and get the meter box up. I'm so damn sick of stupid, incompetent little shits! One person says one thing while someone else says another, then Hilda says she doesn't know who's doing what. She doesn't know? Then what the fuck is she in this business for? If she doesn't know who's doing what by now, she's got a real problem. How many years has she been in this business? Well, I think it's about time people start figuring out who's doing what and do it! If Gravity wants his money and if people don't want to get sued, they better get their asses in gear and get us in that house by the 1st, as the contract states.

One of the guys from APS, who has the same model we do, is in the process of suing Palm Harbor for similar problems we've got, like all the staples showing, the botched island trim job, the half-assed baseboard job in the entryway, and the crooked bar. Even Brian, who's the only one who's been dedicated so far, noticed the island trim, and he suggested I mention it during the final walk-through. Oh, I will. I'm not gonna necessarily have them fix things, cuz that'd just delay us from getting in there (we'll fix their fuck-ups ourselves, even though we shouldn't have to. We paid them to do it). However, I am gonna point out these flaws to them. I understand no one and nothing is perfect, but this is a little overkill.

Also, why do people have to die who are associated with those working for us? First Gravity's mother-in-law dies, and now the carpet layer's friend dies. The carpet would've been done today if the guy's friend hadn't been killed on a motorcycle. Hilda says it'd be no problem getting another carpet layer if she has to. Let's hope not, although I still can't understand why so many different people have to be involved. APS has to be APS, but why can't Palm Harbor take care of their house's setup as well? And the septic? We shouldn't have to be bothering with separate contractors, but I guess it's cuz we went through Steven and not Palm Harbor directly.

So we still need the septic filled in after it's inspected. The electric box needs inspecting. We need carpet. And we need a fucking well, too. Where the hell is the well permit we should've gotten two weeks ago?

Again, I can't wait to get into that house and away from people and their stupidity!!!

Our first stop of the day, after Tom got off work, of course, was to Home Bass. He couldn't find the tool he needs for the rammed earth wall he wants to make. This is the one to keep loose dogs, coyotes, etc., out and cut down sound, but we'll still put up the barbed wire perimeter fence.

We looked at outdoor plants/trees, sheds, decorative light switches, and indoor/outdoor mats. Their indoor mats were a bore, but I got a nice flowery outdoor mat cut around the shape of the flowers.

We also went to Game Works and accumulated about 1,400 tickets. Not enough for a 3,000-ticket lightning lamp. So I got three 75-ticket velour bears, and now I have a yellow one, an orange one, a red one, and a green one (they were out of purple ones), and I have a voucher for 1,185 tickets. So, two more trips and we'll have the lamp. It's not nearly as cool as the lamp I saw at Home Bass, though, which was amazingly only $50. It's a stick lamp that's about 4' high with water bubbling in it, and it changes colors, too.

11-21-1999

I thought I'd write and keep from getting overly behind, cuz I can't focus on reading right now. Writing requires me to focus, too, but in a different way.

It appears Gravity's skipped out on us. I hope he knows this means he won't be getting paid. Since Gravity won't haul his blubber out and finish his job, Tom's gonna get the plug for the electric box so we can have heat Wednesday night and sleep in the house for the first night ever! (We're now at the Fairfield for three days. Same room as last time.) We'll be able to heat the place, but we'll have to go to the trailer to use the bathroom since the damn well's still not drilled.

Brian strapped the house down with metal straps that attach to a 3' pole that he slowly drills into the ground with some really cool tool.

Tom and I discussed plans for outside the house—where the pool will go, the deck, stuff we want to plant, and we even discussed getting a couple of horses. They stink and are more work to take care of than rats, mice, and guinea pigs, but if it's what we want, we can handle it. Tom's quite an expert on horses, so I can learn from him just like he's learned from me about things I know.

As I probably mentioned, I had begun growing my bangs out. However, it looked so geeky, so I cut my bangs back again earlier this evening.

I got another sitting music doll on the 19th (Stephanie) at the same store I got Melanie at. So far, I'm shocked to say it still works. We got it in an awesome grocery store in Sun Lakes. Sun Lakes and its stores are great, cuz just like Sun City, it's a retirement area where everyone's old, white, and quiet. They just really annoy you with their 10 MPH driving speed.

Stephanie's got auburn hair, blue eyes, and wears a blue and white dress with a touch of glitter. She has a white dove on her arm, too.

We began putting Jade together Saturday. Saturday, we wrapped the armature with plastic bags at the legs, then poured Durham's Rock Hard inside the leg molds, then squeezed them on. We let it set overnight, but this morning, one leg was loose, so we reset it. Hopefully, we can stuff her up to her waist or so tomorrow, then set her arms.

Tom read a whole Dean Koontz book yesterday. One I bought and haven't read yet.

He went down on me the day before and said we'll screw tomorrow. And let me guess—he'll be too scared to cum being where I'm at in my cycle, right? Good. There's no sense in taking stupid risks.

I called Andy from the Southgate hotel, and he said, "Hello" in a calm, quiet voice. Then, in a more exasperated way, he said, "Bruce?" He let out a sigh of frustration at that point, and then I hung up. This was the only call I gave him from that place, which turned out to be dead quiet. It wasn't comfortable or convenient, though.

I called Andy three times tonight. He didn't answer the first time, so I hung up on his machine. He answered the second time while I happened to be fiddling with the clock radio. "Your music sucks," he said and hung up. I got his machine on the last call, and it was perfect! What a funny, ironic coincidence that this God-obsessed guy got the message he got. I was just flipping to a religious station as the machine came on, where a guy's ending words of some speech were, "May God bless you." He'll love it! He'll totally get a kick out of it, and I'd think he'd be a bit curious.

11-22-1999

Saturday, when I was in the house, I saw a US West truck, plus some other worker's truck in back. One was driving up as I approached the window, and I watched someone get out of the truck and shut the door, and I never heard the door shut. It would have to be slammed hard while it was dead quiet to be heard in the house, but unfortunately, music doesn't have to be all that loud to be heard just fine in the house.

Later that day, we noticed a small U-Haul back there, and from what we saw, someone had to have stayed there overnight Saturday night, but they were quiet. This is the house closest to us I'm talking about. The one I'm pretty sure is where the single guy's going. I wasn't surprised they were quiet for two reasons. One—their dog's not here yet. Two—I noticed that people usually wait till they get settled first, then a week or two after moving is when they draw attention to themselves and rub their presence in on the neighborhood.

A gray van I'd never seen before went by our house on Ralston, but I couldn't see where they came from. I waved, and they waved back. There were at least two people, and the passenger may've been a fat adult female. Couldn't tell too well with the sun's glare.

Saturday, we checked out a road that we thought would take off a good 30 miles or so when going to Melanie, but it was in really shitty condition. However, the scenery was breathtakingly beautiful and made our land look dull. It had an awesome mountain view with tons of saguaros one way, then, in the other direction, you could see a town far off in the distance. I'll bet the distant lights at night are gorgeous. You can see that and beautiful mountains from our place, too, but nothing like this. And we're too low for saguaros to grow naturally, although they'll be fine once we plant them. Saguaro cacti occur in the higher desert. This area, though, wasn't for sale, had treacherous roads, and no utility poles for miles.

We're supposedly screwing sometime today, but I'm sure there'll be some excuse to get out of it, or some problem with it if we do get around to it.

* * *

So, was I right about him having a mid-cycle excuse? Yup. He was too tired. Figures, huh? Well, I know I can't conceive, but he obviously doesn't, so from now on, I'm gonna try to hide from him just where I am in my cycle so he doesn't have to get all wound up for nothing. It'll be easier to do once we get in the house, cuz he'll seldom be in the bathroom I'll be using, so I can hide pads and tampon wrappers easier. My cycle isn't always predictable, but it's close enough, even if I have erratic spotting at odd times.

I tested him earlier. He passed just like I knew he would, but even so, I still like testing people from time to time, even if I know what their reaction's gonna be. I just like to see it periodically.

I said that maybe we could bring women into our sex life, and he seemed to truly be disinterested, and he said he didn't want that. He wanted me (just part-time, not that that's not good enough for me). When I told him I was testing him, he said he thought I was testing to see what I could do. Hope, not at all. Women are fun to fantasize about, but ever since I met Tom, I've never had the desire to act on any fantasies. This sort of surprises me, despite how much I love Tom, but then again, love and lust are two different things, so I guess I really shouldn't be surprised. As I've said, sex is a tiny part of this relationship, as far as I'm concerned, and I love Tom way more than I lust for him. I'm glad this is how I feel, though, and wouldn't be happy with someone I lusted for but did not love. That would've been fine in the past, but not now.

I have a lot to be grateful for. Not just that Tom doesn't think with his dick, not just that I quit wanting a kid and don't have the sexual drive I used to have, but that I am finally healthy and happy. I may still get tight at times, but look how long it's been since I've had to go to the ER! God's blessed us with a great house, nice stuff, and he's finally allowed me to quit smoking and get on a schedule. If only he'd let me lose weight now! Well, he may choose not to help me with the hunger part of it, but I have to at least not eat. I have to face reality. I'm not in my 20s anymore, and I never will be again, so I can only have a bite a day if I want my weight to be somewhat reasonable, and this is the way it's always gonna be.

Tom got to the hotel right before 9:00 this morning and had me get him up at 1:00. We went to the trailer, and oh my God! Even in the middle of the afternoon, it was chilly as all hell, and we had to run the heat for a while. It felt like late August–early September in New England.

The plug he got for the electrical box was the wrong size, so he'll have to get another one. At least it didn't cost even a buck.

He measured walls and windows for drapes and murals, and we worked on Jade some more. It wasn't very easy. The legs set great, but stuffing the body was harder than it sounded, cuz we had to get things evened out and proportioned. I wonder if the cloth body, which is what you fill, is too big for this doll. There's a lot of bunched material, so it looks like she's got skinny legs with a fat ass. It doesn't have to be perfect, though, cuz clothes cover the non-porcelain parts of dolls. We just have to get it close enough so her dress doesn't appear to have a funny-shaped body underneath.

Hey, I didn't write about my new cactus clock and paper. We went to a touristy Walgreens, and I got a cactus clock, but they didn't have the cactus plate I wanted as well. I got paper for letters to Paula with pretty watercolor splashes throughout it. I'll keep a few sheets for myself, too, and maybe use some for those lying control freaks in Florida. I still intend to mail them pictures once the house is set up, but I'll have to use the back.

11-23-1999

I'm doing a mini-load of laundry now.

About four days ago, the weather here turned rather wintry. It's only making it up to the mid-60s, and even in the afternoon, it's nippy, especially when it's windy.

Tom called Hilda today, and the idiot still doesn't know where our well permit is. Tom reminded her that our first payment is due on the first, and he said her response to that was, "Then we have a week to get it done."

Yeah, right! I'll believe it when I see it. She also says Gravity's gonna come out and connect the well to the septic once we ever get the damn thing, but this is even harder to believe.

In other areas of the house setup, Brian's supposed to take care of the skirting, and someone's supposed to lay the carpet this week.

Our storage bin's coming out next Monday, and the furniture will be delivered on the 30th.

Tom got a plug to fill in the drop-out in the electrical box, and he called APS to tell them it's ready for a meter, as well as an inspection.

We still have to get the washer, dryer, trash compactor, computer desk (for my office), entertainment center, and the project and animal tables. We discussed the possibility of building our own entertainment center since we like being creative and making things.

The kitchen sink has a spot where you can add either a hose spray or an instant hot water spigot. I think I'll take the hot water. We also have to get a water softener, but we may not need a filter. That'll depend on how it tastes.

As with most hotels and other businesses, they have fake plants around the lobby, which is usually deserted. I could easily swipe a couple of little ones, and I thought about it, but they're not that great. Just green leaves. No colorful flowers.

Besides going to a drive-through and to Circle K, we made two stops.

We went to the trailer and house first, spying on the back houses first. What dumpy trailers these are. They're double-wide, but according to George, only 40' long.

There's definitely still no one living in the furthest one yet, but there was a Doberman chained by it. It was there when the workers who are usually there were there, so maybe it's one of theirs. What is it with people taking their dogs to work, anyway? Amazingly, though, not once did I hear it bark. Dogs do tend to be quieter out there during the daytime, though.

I took care of the animals while he took care of the plug, and even brought Scuttles to run around in the house. He didn't explore that much, just did a few corner duties. I wish rats could be trained like cats to use little boxes. It'd be so cool to have them run around loose, but they'd chew everything up, of course.

At Walgreens, we got my meds and some toys. They replaced the Flovent with my old stuff—Vanceril. Well, good, cuz the Flovent's not very good. Got my Albuterol as usual too, and that's it. I only have two things I take.

He got a yo-yo, and just like he said, he's super good at it.

I got a pocket Simon game where you match color sequences. Also, a Barbie I've wanted for my collection for a while with a pink, satiny, glittery dress with a jagged hem. She has a pull-string with a pink plastic star on the end that you pull so she spins at the waist and makes bubbles with wands you clip to her wrists. I didn't get it for this purpose, though. I just liked the dress. Besides, my fan can make bubbles a lot better than she can.

* * *

Gave Andy another hotel call. I'm not calling him too often cuz I don't want to drive the poor guy crazy and possibly even into spending money he needs on getting his number changed. I doubt if he'd go to those extremes, though. Andy can certainly handle prank calls better than anyone I know. You're talking about a phone addict here who loves to do the same thing.

I picked up, and he was quiet for the first minute. Then, after a sigh of frustration, he did what I thought he'd have done by now—chewed disgustingly in my ear. I had the fan on, so I couldn't tell if he was alone or not. All he said was, "Don't hang up. I know you want to hear me eat. This chocolate pudding is so good. I have chocolate swirl, too. Everyone loves chocolate. Everyone loves Raymond, too." Then he hung up. No, I don't know who Raymond is or if he even knows a Raymond. Bruce, though, might be the gay guy from Circle K. I'm not sure.

11-24-1999

We stopped at the grocery store in Sun Lakes before coming to the land, which was pretty crowded, being the day before Thanksgiving. If there's anything I hate about old people, it's that they drive too slowly and rudely block aisles in stores when they stop to gab with one another.

During the daylight, it was as quiet as usual, but with the onset of night, the dogs are beginning to stir up.

Tom and I made a bet. Since we know at least one of those trailers in back is now occupied, the holiday changes when the noise starts. If it weren't for tomorrow being Thanksgiving, I'd say we were a week or two away from their antics/noise, but I guarantee it'll be noisy over there tomorrow. I'm sure we'll hear from next door and maybe Dan too, but in back, I bet Tom nothing for me for six months on their barking, screaming and music. Nothing for me, meaning no dolls or anything like that.

Nothing anyone around here can do can compare to how that Mexican household in Phoenix will be, and I thank God I am not there to have to hear it. Man, is it gonna be a circus over there! I hope the Hs are planning on trying to have a nice, quiet, relaxing Thanksgiving cuz they ain't getting it. I know everyone will go to the freeloaders’ and that they won't go to someone else's, and I know there'll be music from the house and car stereos. Thank you, God, that I don't have to be forced to be a part of it and listen to it for 12 hours.

The factory still hasn't called us about outside steps, the globe, cleaning, or a final walk-through, and APS hasn't been out. What else is new, huh? But the heat pump and carpet are finally being installed. The guy "says" he was putting it in today, but I don't think he and his partner can do it today. I think they'll have to come back Friday along with the carpet layers. They took our unwanted furnace out, by the way, too. As for the carpet, the padding's down, but the carpet won't be laid till Friday.

Actually, come to think of it, the dogs have been quieter lately. Maybe the colder weather has to do with it.

11-25-1999

Signing in on a very boring Thanksgiving. There's just nothing to do. Nothing to do, no place to go.

Tom got up a little before 11:00 last night and stayed in the car till morning so I could sleep without him shaking the trailer. Remember, we've got a total of four nights here. I slept in till 10:30. I know it may fuck up my schedule, but I really needed a day in my life to get up on my own. It's been over four months now of waking up sooner than I planned to get up or to the alarm. I can't wait to take a break from early wake-up calls and alarms! Last night's reason for waking up was that I was absolutely freezing! It sure does get colder out here, if not by much. Trying to heat a little flimsy trailer's hard. It heats up quickly and well, but two minutes after the heat stops, it's fucking freezing in here again!

I expected to hear a lot of gunfire this morning, but I didn't. That's the only other thing I don't like while we're still in the trailer (we shouldn't hear it in the house) are the goddamn weekend gunshots. They hunt quails and shit like that in the mornings and late afternoons.

I'm not sure if anyone's behind us or not. I heard a dog, which may've been a Doberman, barking from that direction for a few minutes, but I was pretty sure the Doberman belongs to one of the workers. Unless it's one of the workers moving in there, or the barks were coming from Dan's or somewhere else.

The only thing I've heard so far is so soft that I can't hear it inside the trailer with the windows open, so I sure as hell couldn't hear it in the house. The house toward the front of us, actually, in front of next door, is playing a radio. As I said, it's so soft I can't even make out what kind of music it is. It's an old, bass-less radio. All I hear is the faint beat of the drums, and I can tell when the DJ is talking, too. Although this surprises me, since people aren't supposed to want to draw attention to themselves out here, I'm not worried. It is a holiday, after all, and who knows? Maybe they're renters.

I wish it would rain for a change. It hasn't rained in months. I want to see what it's like with water running down our washes. That oughta be so cool, having a little river run by our house when it rains.

The house's 6" thick walls and thermo-treated windows really insulate well. It finds a temperature average to maintain. It doesn't get as warm as it is in the daytime or as cold as it is at night. It's 55º in there lately. Our highs lately are 70º and our lows are 40º.

11-26-1999

We decided to check into the Fairfield so we could take showers. It'll also give me a break from being shaken awake. First he shook me awake, then I woke up just because, and then a fly landed on me and buzzed me awake just before 8:00. I couldn't have slept much later anyway since the carpet people started their work.

We got here at 11:00, and we were supposed to be on the 2nd floor, the one with the lazy Mexican who doesn't change sheets (this place has three floors), but the room wasn't ready, so now we're back on the 1st. This time, though, instead of being at the end of the hall by the exit door, we're up in the middle by the lobby. The little laundry room is just across the hall. The laundry room where they wash sheets is across the hall, too. I thought it might be very noisy here, especially with it being a Friday night, but it hasn't been too bangy so far. Since it's the Thanksgiving weekend and not a regular weekend, they may not be as booked up.

The room was really musty when we first came in, but Tom opened the window and we aired it out. I didn't even know these windows opened.

He went to see his mom since he hasn't seen her in a couple of weeks.

There was no alarm clock in here. Tom can get me up by 8:30 tomorrow if nothing beats him to it, but I thought it'd be nice to tell time, so I got one at the front desk. Oddly enough, there were no outlets behind the nightstand, so I plugged it in by this table I'm writing on.

I also had to hunt down the maid for a DO NOT DISTURB sign again, but I still like this place the best.

* * *

Tom's still not back yet. I napped for about an hour after a shower and doing a little load of laundry.

That musty smell returned, and I noticed the floor by the sink is damp, so I think there's a leak somewhere. Yeah, I'm a magnet for leaks. We both are. I'm also good at sending out those infertility vibes, too, cuz as it turns out, none of these mice were ever pregnant. How amazing, too, seeing that they were in a cage with males.

Tom won our bet about it being quiet behind us, although he won by default. No one's been over there as far as I can tell. Still, I won't get anything till June. The bet was that I go without any more dolls and stuff like that for six months. I'll keep my end of the bet, but I wish he'd quit lying and learn to keep his end of things when it came to sex! As you know, I no longer want a kid, but when the guy comes out and says he's gonna cum regularly, this really burns me up. Not just cuz he's lied about this before a zillion times, but cuz we don't even screw regularly to begin with. How can he cum regularly when we don't screw regularly? Again, part-time, cumless sex is fine 90% of the time, but why bullshit me about it? He is how he is, and as I said before, any guy not afraid to go to a doctor about it, but that doesn't, wants to be the way he is.

* * *

Tom got in shortly after I last wrote. With him were a birthday card and a check from Mom. It was a very pretty card, too. Bright and colorful.

The people next door are getting on my nerves, and believe it or not, these aren't kids either. They're just as rude and immature, though. Totally childish, and fucking males! The filthy pigs always have to go about things in such a forceful, macho way. Maybe I shouldn't talk, for I'm just as aggressive, but I guess that except for my husband (or else I'd be alone forever or having little flings with women), I'll always be a die-hard sexist.

I was reading and Tom was napping when a cock, accompanied by his woman, knocked so fucking hard and loud on next door's door. Poor Tom nearly fell out of bed, and I myself nearly jumped through the ceiling. I thought for sure someone was knocking on our door, but it was next door. If he'd done it again, I'd have really let him have it. Meanwhile, it appears to be an older couple staying in the room. I guess they recently checked in. I saw the old lady go across to the washer, and she'd gone back and forth slamming the door several times when I decided to take the matter up with the front desk. Unless he just said he talked to them, which very well could be the case, it's had its usual effect—nothing. However, I don't chew out or beat up old people in the way that I would with a younger person. Because it's still early and because we don't live here and because she's old, I'll let her annoy me by rudely slamming her door. If she isn't finished with the laundry and the door-slamming by 10:00, then I'll go directly to her, old or not. I could kick myself for going to the front desk, though. Why do I even bother? Why do I waste my time? Again, you got a problem with someone, you want results, you gotta go to them. Also, I still can't figure out for the life of me why people can't handle such simple, reasonable complaints without getting so damn hot and bothered. It's just a door-slamming complaint. I'm not saying their family has to die, nor am I requesting their execution. Everyone's so damn sensitive. So you close your door a little quieter next time you go in and out—big fucking deal. What's wrong with a little common courtesy?

Instead of complaining, I should've yanked all her clothes out of the washer when she went back into her room, but that probably would've led to more commotion from over there.

11-27-1999

If Tom's right, and if he's not getting his hopes up for nothing, this will be the last night we sleep in the trailer. If gunshots don't wake me up sooner than I'd like, then he will, but it's OK.

The fucking idiots sent the well permit to our old address, so that's part of the reason for the delay. According to the way Tom's figured things out between the well driller and APS, we should be in the house Wednesday.

The skirting is now on, and it really makes the house look better.

Also, the carpet's down. It's darker than I thought; sort of like faded denim, but it's better than brown. I like it.

I found yet more problems, and I'm telling you - there's no fucking excuse for this! Those fucking goddamn lazy, half-assed Mexicans!

They installed the things for the outdoor lights crookedly, and the utility door handle does not fit right. There's a large gap in the door.

We went over to the house after the girl and guy who did the carpet left, and we discussed clean-up and preparation jobs, as well as did a little work over there. When we can, I'm gonna sweep the floors and vacuum and he's gonna wipe down the walls and counters of all their dust.

Today we set up the fridge, oven, and dishwasher, and peeled stickers off of things in the bathrooms. I also took down the curtains I plan to replace.

Anyway, I hope Tom's not jumping the gun, cuz he's got a room reserved for us for three nights at the Fairfield. Being there on a Friday night/Saturday morning was just as bad as I figured it'd be. I should've known too, that just because it started off quiet, it wouldn't stay that way. Not once it got well past check-in time. They ended up pretty packed and the early morning door-slamming was pretty wild. I'm amazed they let me sleep till 8:30 as I did. Shortly afterward, we screwed.

There was nothing to say he wouldn't or couldn't cum, based on his actions, but then, like usual, he had an excuse. A cramp in his back was the excuse of choice this time. Fine, but why make excuses, Tom? Just be yourself.

11-28-1999

Back at the Fairfield till Wednesday. God's up to one of his favorite obsessions concerning me - sticking kids next to me. I was in between CDs when I heard a kid scream and felt its footsteps. I peeked out into the hall (this was just after he left for work) and saw a guy with a ton of luggage heading next door. I never actually saw any kids, so I couldn't say how many are over there. He smiled at me and we went into our rooms. Thank God these walls are thicker than the apartment walls at the Vista, Crystal Creek, and the dive in Snottsdale! Although I've heard a few bumps and bangs, they haven't been as noisy as I thought they'd be. The question is - will I be able to get up in the morning when I say so, or will I have to when they say so? No kid is gonna sleep till 8:30, and you know the parents won't give a shit if they run around like crazy.

I'd like to say that they'll be settling down for bed soon and gone for good in the morning, but I know better. One look at the amount of luggage they had told me they'll be here for more than one night. They're not in the middle of their trip. Here is their final destination. If they were coming/going from some other state, they wouldn't have that much luggage cuz you wouldn't need so much for one night. They've come to visit someone in the area for at least a few days, which is why they had so much crap. Besides, I know what God would have in store for me.

This is also not a very good sign of the "end times," so to speak, signaling our final hotel stay. I still don't see how the well could be done, along with APS's job and Gravity's job of connecting the well/septic by Wednesday, so we can be in by the 1st. Tom promises to hire new people, though, if they don't stick to the contract.

11-29-1999

I forgot to say that the day they were finishing up the carpet, we spied on the back, and it looks like people may now be in the house furthest from us (originally, I thought it might be the other way around). These houses and their immediate surroundings look like total dumps. There was a beat-up car outside with two adults sitting out front of the furthest house. I couldn't get a make on their color from a distance, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were Mexicans. They may've been workers, too, and not residents, but it's still too soon for these renters to be a problem enough to know better (till I torch their places). Still, I accept losing the bet, which I had misunderstood the terms of. The bet means I can't get any dolls till May, not that I can't get anything at all till June as I thought was the case.

Anyway, it was pretty funny how I insisted I could hear the neighbor's music the day we pulled in while the carpet layers were there, when it turns out it was coming from our own house! Funny, huh? Tom sure thought so. Yeah, the carpet people had a portable radio going.

Here's something even funnier: I spent over a decade wishing I could keep a schedule, and now I can't wait to get off of one! It'll probably be another couple of weeks before I can.

Tom just went a little nuts in his sleep, talking again and saying, "I'll check it out for you. I'm a skeptic. I can't believe what you say."

* * *

I really hope I don't need to buy a third journal, but I doubt it. We should definitely be in by the time this one's done, but boy, let me tell ya—if we ain't, we're gonna be in court suing these people!

He talked with the well driller today, who says the well will be done this week. Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. And what about APS and Gravity finishing his job?

He called the mail carrier and was told there are no mail services on our street, so we can either apply for a delivery extension, put our mailbox on Bitter Root, which is too far to walk to, or just keep our PO Box. We'll probably just do a PO Box, and remember, now that I'm there, the area will build up quickly enough so our application for a delivery extension will be accepted. As it is now, though, there are not enough houses between us and the two rentals, but once there's us, four rentals, plus houses across the street and to our right, an extension will be no problem.

I definitely want to check out the land to our right and in front. I want to find out who owns it and what the story with it is. It's not for sale now that I know of, but give it 6–12 months and I'll bet it will be.

At the trailer Sunday morning, we were locked in. I couldn't get the damn door open. Tom loosened some screws and fixed the knob, though. While we were still trapped, he jokingly said, "It's kind of scary being trapped in here with me, huh?"

I joked back, saying, "Yeah, I'm afraid you might rape me."

The night before this, I nearly blinded myself in one eye with a clip that broke and flew into my eye. Miraculously, I had no bruising on the skin, but it did bruise a corner of my eyeball.

Since now's the time to mail something and hope that Tom doesn't find out about it, by having the front desk mail it, I'm gonna send the Hs a wacky letter. He still may find out about it if they suspect us, then contact Hilda to contact us about it, but I doubt it. If they do, they do, though. I'd still rather not hand an envelope addressed to them to Tom to mail, cuz he'll only try to talk me out of it. Meanwhile, what he doesn't know won’t hurt him, but if he does find out, then I'll listen to him lecture me for an hour about it, and I'll deal with him being paranoid over it till 2005.

* * *

Last night I called the front desk about the room next door, but not to complain, since they weren't that noisy and since it wouldn't have done me any good if they were. I did it to see if I could find out when they'd be leaving. It sounded like the same guy who I complained to about that old crone on the 1st floor (we're now on the end of the 2nd floor directly above our usual room), and I was surprised he gave me any info. He let me know they were leaving today, which eased my nerves. I didn't think they'd leave after just one night. Someone's door woke me up at 7:15, but I'm almost sure it wasn't theirs, cuz fortunately, their door's not right smack next to ours. It was probably the door across the hall or the outside stairway door. Unless they arrived late, no one was above us last night, cuz as is my habit lately, I call the surrounding rooms to see what's empty and what's not. So far, as far as I know, no one's above or next door to us now (who cares about below), but someone's across from us.

The maid called today, wanting to know if we wanted our room cleaned. That was a stupid question. Why would we have our DO NOT DISTURB sign out if we did?

* * *

I've become sort of friendly with one of the girls at the front desk. She's the one who helped me get my popcorn that got stuck in the vending machine. She smiled when she saw me earlier making popcorn and asked how long I was staying. I told her about our situation. I stopped by the front desk to chat some more with her just now when I went to get coffee, when a man came in saying he needed four rooms. Four rooms! That's a lot of fucking kids! Next door's still empty, but I'm sure some of them will be unloaded in there any sec.

Last night, for reasons I can only guess, a suite door was left with its door guard in place so anyone could walk right in, just like I did. Their suites are identical to the one we were in at the La Quinta, only it was laid out differently. We're in a regular room with two doubles, a dresser, and a table. This had a king with a table, dresser, couch, and micro/fridge. Since it was on this floor, I used its microwave. I also helped myself to some toiletries. I could've made free long-distance calls. However, there's no one I care to call that's long-distance.

Tom may be coming down with a cold. I hope not. It could just be exhaustion, though.

My trip to Melanie's was a waste of time and gas, but at least I don't have to go back for 8 weeks! The doctor didn't even tighten the retainers. All he did was look at them and ask if they fit OK.