After 6 or 7 months with Ron, I ditched him from my life. That was at the beginning of February, I think. Then, on June 30th of 1987, I moved out of Woodside Terrace. It was a mutual agreement between the landlord and me, as I was having problems with some of the other tenants. They were kind enough to let me take my time, and they never gave me a legal eviction notice. If only I knew then what I know now, I could've fought it in court and won, cuz you know me. I'd never cause anyone major trouble unless they did shit to me. Other than calling people I don't know, or those who have given me a reason to dislike them, I don't want hostility so close to home.

So, this was when I moved to Oswego St., which at the time was 10 times worse than Woodside Terrace. First, let me back up to February when I met both Fran and Nervous, who lived next to each other on the 1st floor.

Ron had worked as a maintenance guy at McDonald's, where we met. Fran had also worked there at one time, so that's how they met. Before I moved, Fran got evicted, and I met up with Stuart B, who I went to Longmeadow High with. Stuart’s gay too, and also was not at home for most of his teenage years. He and I have been friends now for 2½ years, and I think he still lives on Locust St., where he's been for 8 years now.

I feel our friendship ending was for the better, as he was the same case as Fran was in most ways. Both Stuart and Fran and I could hold nice conversations and have lots of laughs, but at the same time, they were too off the wall and unpredictable. And I thought I was once about as bad as you can get.

Around April, before I moved, I had a second roommate by the name of Barbara T. She was quickly in and out before a month was out. That was the one who only stole an afghan and some coasters, which didn’t mean shit but rang up a $143 phone bill. When I called the phone company about it, they removed it from my bill due to my good acting. However, I don't think I could get that lucky again in a million years. God was with me that day.

As for Nervous, I met him one day in February when I had the flu and asked him for a ride to the ER. I liked Nervous so much till I found out what he was all about, but keep in mind I’m not the same person I was when we met. If we were starting all over and I met him for the first time now, I'd never associate with him. His obsession with me back then pissed me off and rather embarrassed me cuz of the way he is. Today, I find it quite amusing, and I know that that's life, no matter what kind of person you are or what you look like. I really miss his spying and my playing dead or crossed-line with him. Also, I miss taping him and Fran or Andy. That, I'd do all over again if I could, in a minute.

Later...

About half a year after I moved, my friendship with Jenny and Mary ended. Jenny and I had grown to be two totally different people. We had met in grade school. Mary was too flaky and never returned the stuff she borrowed. Her brother was a loser, too.

I missed Nancy, who had lived next door to me on Woodside Terrace. She moved out a month after I did and got married.

I still spoke with Emily now and then, and shortly after I moved, Larry and John sold my building and hers. Right before Larry and John sold off all their Springfield property, they evicted Nervous for not paying his rent. Nervous then stayed at the Y, and when he couldn't afford that, he was out sleeping in his car. Because he was so obnoxious and had a lousy attitude too much of the time, I wouldn't take him in. Eventually, he got a room in a rooming house.

My neighbors were ok, except for Nellie and José, who stole checks and a boom box from me. The bank reimbursed me, but I always liked Nellie and felt that she'd be a decent person if she weren’t a thief and a druggie.

Hank pissed me off at first till I shocked him by going after him. Not punching him or intending to harm him, but scaring some sense into him. I intended to go further if I ever needed to, but we became friendly. Hank began to respect me, not cuz he would've liked to get down my pants or cuz I was gay, but cuz I wasn't scared of him. He was going with the woman next door on and off, and she was ok. I only got mad at her once when she accused me of fucking around with Hank when I was only downstairs talking to him or bumming smokes. Hank lived below me, and Mattie lived next door. That night, she pissed me off, and I chased her into her apartment. She beat me to it, slammed and locked the door, and I stood outside it, kicking it and screaming at the top of my lungs. I heard her calling the cops, so I ran inside my place, shut my lights off, and just stayed there. They knocked on my door, but I never answered. Hank told me the next day that Mattie was scared of me. I told him, as pissed as I was, and with all my cussing at her, I'd never be dumb or cruel enough to lay a hand on a 62-year-old woman. I told Hank if Mattie wanted to be friendly, so would I—but to ask, rather than accuse me of anything.

The nicest and sanest neighbors I had were these two sisters who were in their late 60s, Anna and Julia. They lived next door to me on the other side. Also, Dotty, who lived on the 1st floor next to Hank.

There were two adjoining buildings, each with two apartments per floor. My side was the 1-bdm side, and the other was the 2-bdm side. Very different from the Woodside-Locust complex and much smaller. All the apartments were big on Woodside-Locust. The Oswego St. ones were smaller.

Locust had 3 1-bdm apartments per floor. Woodside had 3 1-bdm apartments per floor and 1 studio per floor.

Next time I write, I'll write about my third roommate, Crystal. I'll always have mixed emotions about Crystal, but she was definitely the best roommate when she wasn’t being lazy or stealing from me. When I remember Crystal, I feel sorrier for her than angry. We had things in common, such as our backgrounds, and hit it off instantly. She and I had a lot of laughs, and we made phone calls and ranked on Nervous together. She was hardly ever home, though, as she was too busy hanging with the wrong kinds of people—such as her boyfriend, who was always beating the shit out of her, yet she'd keep going back for more.

She'll always be a lost cause and forever naïve. Always be a loser and know people who are losers. She'd have a much harder time attracting decent people than I ever would.

Sometimes I feel like a lost cause only cuz there's no possible way to get anything I really want, no matter how hard I try and how much effort I put into it. If humans lived to be 1000 years old, I'd never be a singer or get even one night with someone I'm sexually attracted to, whether I tried to or not.

However, Crystal's the type you could hand something to on a silver platter, and she'd refuse it.

So, she moved out in either late February or early March of 1988.

I really don't feel like writing now, even though I have nothing better to do. I'm bored, and I'm hungry, but I can't get my food stamps until tomorrow. Also, I feel like shit.