Well, I’ve got 27 journals to proofread, so that shouldn’t take more than a month or so.

Tom and I did our “job” earlier and I got off. He didn’t. I offered to try to get him off some other way and he said, “No, we’ll leave it build up another day. Besides, we’re getting close to when it matters.” Not for about a week and I still think it doesn’t matter when we do it and that there is no time for me that matters. Well, as long as there’s no catch to his doing this with me, which is trying about as best as we possibly can (if he does cum at the right time), this is good for me. I really need to do all that we can do to either have a miracle delivered to us or confirm my fears to the max, so I can adjust to whatever the outcome of this will be. It’s one thing to be sure in my mind for 30 years, but I need to see that I’m right or see that I’m wrong. If I’m as right as I always believed I was, I hope no trouble comes out of this. Not only can you not fight fate, but if you try to, trouble may come along and that’s all we need.

We got some animal cards today in the mail from some wildlife thing. So I cut some of them out and wallpapered the back wall of Piggy and Bunny’s cage.

Well, I hope Tammy doesn’t think I’m crazy, but I just had to let her know that she and her family are under the same curse I was under back east. I know the signs. I know how it works from my own personal experience, and I told her it’s no coincidence that 90% of my life’s improved since being out here. Becky now has been diagnosed with advanced Lyme disease and Sarah’s got scarlet fever. They’ve got to get the hell out of New England any way they possibly can. The curse on them will never end. It’ll only get worse, just as it has been each year and God forbid any one of them gets killed. Yes, I’ve learned and have come to fully believe that lands can be like people. Some loving, caring and nurturing, and others evil, hateful and even violent.

I only hope Tammy’s not bullshitting me about the kids to get me to call her. Remember how I said I left her a message on AOL expressing my feelings to her? And I told her that I’d just keep in touch with her there for now, so I hope that this isn’t just an attempt to get me to call, even though I wish it could be just a joke as far as what she says the kids are going through. It’s just that for some strange reason, my parents and Tammy seem desperate to hang onto me. They don’t help me financially or in any other way that keeps me wrapped around their fingers, so I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s cuz of Tom. They really like Tom, which is great, and if they lose me, they lose him.

The office where I’m gonna get my teeth done called yesterday to tell me that they had to cancel my Halloween appointment and bump it up to November 14th.

Tom and I made cookies last night. Actually, he made the cookies. I just helped put frosting on some of them. They’re called Black-Eyed Susan’s, cuz the cookie itself is yellowish and then there’s the dark frosting on top of it. They’re really good.

I admire Tom’s effort in trying to achieve our dream. Neither of us came last night, but he says that he’ll get used to all this planned sex in a day or two. I still think that no matter how much effort we put into it, God will still see to it that we don’t succeed in getting what we want. He’s probably up there right now saying, “So you guys think that having sex every day will do the trick? Uh-uh!”

Of course, a small part of me worries that this is just all for show. There’s a chance he could do everything he can to make it look like he tried his hardest, but then not cum when the time is right. If I were fertile, we’d need for him to get off in a large dose a good 4 days in a row, right around mid-cycle and I don’t think he can do that. After all, the guy is close to 40, not close to 20. Once again, though, all we can do is do what we can and let fate play itself out.

Andy mailed me more coupons for my coffee today with a brief note. This one I’ll copy in since it’s not so sloppy and hard to read with something spilled on it like the last one was.

Yo Ho,

Roctober 26, 1996

She finally found a way to ditch the old labels. Certain chimes went floating down the river. I swear I left it there under blindfolds. Sarah works on a crack farm selling no doubt. Don’t speak because it hurts. She held up the green apple.

Sony told me to cancel many sold out shows so I refused nearly two-thousand 200 tickets. After she hurt her back she trimmed the lamb’s wool. Trees need to be vacuumed every once in a while. The cotton came to Tolleson where it’s ready to be picked up when red lights turn green under toes.

Sixteen times she called out to me but I left her there to drown. I could bake a pumpkin pie but I don’t have any oranges. Bitches parked on the corner blasted muzak to the homeless ice dankers. Truly I believe that I am a femmy gray-haired loser so why don’t you kill me. And what do you want at 5:30 in the Goddamn morning!?! Why did JFK Jr. marry someone other than Bruce Boxlighter? Were you just dreaming of the snow up there in Fagstaff? Dream on you silly dreamer as you go so far and then you crack up baby doll.

Later...

When Tom came home a little while ago, he told me he had a plan. To screw every day this week. That’s quite a plan, though, for someone who doesn’t like to plan and who doesn’t exactly have a high sex drive. Still, I love it and it sounds great. I told him I have a plan too, to screw every day next week, too. If he gets off, maybe God will have a change of heart, but I know he won’t.

Tom just told me he’s gonna call his mom to work on her plumbing on Wednesday. I asked if he was gonna work on my plumbing. He said no cuz mine doesn’t need any work. Yeah, well, I couldn’t be more sure that if we stick to our plans and if he gets off at the right times, he’ll change his mind about that. Oh, how I hope to hell I’m proven wrong! I dare not hope, though, even if I may dream. Also, the odds of him being able to inject me with major doses at all the right times seem so very, very slim.

As slim as me getting my weight back down to the upper 90s. All I ate today was two granola bars and a small serving of spaghetti and I’ve gone from 102 pounds to 104 pounds. My body’s acting like it did before I was 21 and on all kinds of medications. What could be slowing my metabolism down so much? Age? For about 8 years, I had gotten myself to the point where I could eat and eat and stay the same and if I just cut back a little, I’d lose weight. Now all it takes, once again, is a few bites to make me gain? Shit! I’m gonna have to starve myself and only have liquids for a few days. Getting up the will to do so is so damn hard, though.

I wonder what the house behind us is doing now. I noticed a circular light out there by a window and saw a couple of guys working on something, but I couldn’t tell what. It must be something fairly urgent for them to be doing whatever they’re doing at this time.

Later...

Bunny’s running around the cage all playful and hyper like Piggy does. They do this once or twice a day. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes both together.

We screwed earlier. I didn’t think I was ever gonna get off, but I did. He didn’t but was close. Imagine us having sex every day for the next 20 days! I don’t think so! Even 5 days seems like a pretty amazing record for us. Well, we’ll just have to see what happens.

I’ve got about 45 pages left in Andy’s birthday journal which I’ve been slowly working on. I think he’ll really like it and will be impressed with all the work and thought I put into it. Of course, his birthday isn’t till February 15th. I only hope my birthday isn’t as shitty as it was last year!

Happy birthday to journal number 1. Journal 1 is 9 years old today. Tom says next year’s the big one. Yes, 10 years is pretty cool to be writing journals for that long. Bet most people couldn’t imagine that or writing as many journals as I’ve written, but that’s cuz most people hate to write. The difference between the writing of my first several journals and the ones I do now is like - wow! Reading the beginning of journal 1 alone sounds an awful lot like the wacky letters Andy and I have written.

Yesterday we slaved our asses off getting most of the back room done. That leaves the yard, the patio, and anything Tom may want to do with the little room off the end of the big back room and the garage. And other projects, too. Right now, I’m testing the cigarette machine again.

My stereo has been working well. Amazing, huh? I never thought it would, but I won’t count on it to stay that way. It’s bound to malfunction again sooner or later, but he says he can adjust its gears permanently if it does. He says that when the hair got wrapped around the motor, it threw the gears off and that’s why it’d have trouble playing certain disks or the higher tracks of them.

We rearranged the back room, now that we don’t have to worry about leaky spots. We put the two main computers back against the wall where the windows are, as well as the desk, the file cabinet, and a few other little things. Instead of using the tiny speakers for the computer, we’re using my old stereo speakers. He still has the table he uses as a desk for doing bills by the alcove. The brown, wavy, furry-like chair that Andy gave me is now where the computers were before, and Piggy and Bunny are there, too. We put the computer that operates the cigarette machine on the wall where their cage used to be right by the microwave. He took off one of the smaller shelves to be used to put the fan up over the bed to make it louder cuz it’d be closer. No, they haven’t woken me up, but I don’t want to take chances and it’d take the edge off me, anyway.

They’ve had their music at a reasonable volume when they come and go, although, I know that some of the times I’ve heard music, it might’ve been someone else. It won’t last long, though. They’re bound to come in so loud that it shakes the house down soon enough.

We played with those Jenga blocks that Carol and Steven gave us last Christmas. The blocks you stack up and try to keep restacking till they fall. I won again, of course. Right now, he’s doing his favorite thing to do - watching TV. Once again, there’s no sign of wanting to have more sex from him, just as I figured. The TV even turns him on more. I may have been dead wrong in calling him a liar about the cumming issue, but all these promises of more sex and a baby are bullshit. Not that I’m OK, but if I were, as long as he’s gonna squirt 2-3 times a month and at the wrong times, then no, there’ll never be a kid.

Later...

Tom asked me if something was on my mind. I told him I was worried about his amount of seriousness. I told him that if we’re gonna say we’re gonna have more sex, let’s do it. Otherwise, if we’re not, let’s not say we’re gonna. He said I had nothing to worry about. 

I hope not.

I certainly never thought that 9 years to the date of my first journal and first journal entry, I’d be writing about sex with a husband and computers and stuff like that. It seems like journal 1 was written by a whole different person in a whole different life. It seems that way here and there throughout my journals. It seems like the first 5 were one person and one person’s life, then it seems like that for the Woodside journals, then the Deerfield ones, the Norwich ones, the Vista Ventana ones, the Crystal Creek ones, and the ones here. While several things have remained the same since I moved in here in September of 1993, so much really has changed, too.

Later...

Just made another change in the back room. I took my private little worktable that’s been in both of the bedrooms, but mainly the master bedroom, and stuck it in the back room. It looks a little different, but if I don’t like it, I can always move it back. Tom wouldn’t mind either way, I’m sure. I have the bulletin board right by my table and I’ve got some Norah pictures up there, as well as some address labels and stamps. I moved out here cuz I thought it’d be nice to be by the computer for a change since I go back and forth between the two constantly. I moved the bedroom fan to where the table had been, so now it’s at the foot of the bed. It’s not much louder there, but it may be a bit louder. Plus, the emptier the room is, the louder the fan will be. Once we get the bed we want in a million years (provided it works out), it should be even louder.

I haven’t found any concrete evidence telling me next door’s moving, but I still sense something’s up with them. I just don’t know what.

I’m still pretty sure we’ll be here for at least 3-5 more years. If we could have a kid, then it’d probably take 10 years to get out of here, but if I had to choose between the two, I’d take the kid.

I get strong vibes about long-term things, as you know. Not only does my vibe say there’ll never be a kid, but I can see more vividly about 1-4 months at a time. So, omitting the fact that I’ve got a strong vibe that we’ll never have a kid, I already know for sure that I’ll get a November period. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. It’s etched in stone and totally inevitable. The feelings that come are hard to explain. It’s just something I just know, no matter what.

Well, I’m gonna go and watch a movie that’s going on soon.

Oh, I just want to beat the shit out of Quinn right now sooooooo bad! You don’t fuck with the mind of someone I love and care about and you sure as hell don’t threaten them! Quinn dumped Andy for at least 30 days cuz he’s so pissed cuz he’s a scared paranoid wimp. I told Andy to tell him that if he ever hurts him, I will kill him. Quinn probably lives under the discriminative myth that guys are stronger, but I know that it just looks that way at times, cuz it’s not in a woman’s nature to be violent like it is for a guy. Due to women being too soft and not willing to put their foot down and stand up for themselves, they look like chicken shits, but I know men and women are equal. I know that fighting isn’t in strength, height, and weight but that if a person is angry enough and determined enough, they can beat almost anyone. It may be much more in my nature to be aggressive and violent than Tom, for example, but I’m sure that if Tom was that angry at me and that determined, he’d have no problem making mincemeat out of me.

I told Andy that either Quinn’s gonna kill himself on drugs or get killed by someone else if he or any of his sick friends don’t go shoot him, so I’d never go back to him. I know, like Andy said, you can’t help who you love, but Andy should be as strong as I know he is, have self-respect, and not allow Quinn or anyone else to treat him the way he’s been treated. I told him he should stay away forever for his own safety and for the sake of his sanity and just live with the few good memories he has of the wacko. It’ll hurt for a while, but time heals all wounds. I told him that it’ll get easier with time and I reminded him that no relationship is always better than a bad one.

Got a card today from Kim. It’s a cute card and I’ll probably stick it in the inner covers of one of my journals. She sent a couple of Bob letters and in one of them he mentions reading in the journal pages about a joke Kim and I played on him, but wouldn’t get into it. What the fuck’s he talking about? 98% of the stuff I sent him was journals 1-15 and we hadn’t met yet. I only sent a few pages that were from about a year or so ago, but I scanned them thoroughly and I’m curious about it. So I asked Kim to see if she could get out of him what it was since I’m done with him.

I wonder if Kim’s still gonna send Bob a letter right before Christmas saying she’s moving to Florida, then never write to him again and have me send a letter a couple of months later saying she was murdered? I asked her to let me know.

The wind is really whipping out there right now. It even drizzled a bit earlier which is weird. Out here it usually pours quite hard, but not for as long or as often as back east, of course.

Yesterday was a terrible day for me, but I feel much better now. I hope it lasts longer and longer too, after having miserable spells. I even went outside yesterday and fantasized about hanging myself from the rafters for a minute there. I felt so defeated and so hopeless and sad. I can relate to Andy so much. I know what it feels like to want something so bad that you can never have and go through that time and time again.

Tom really cheered me up yesterday. He said it’s not that he’d ever want me not to tell him about what’s bothering me, it’s that he doesn’t want to get into long 4 hour conversations about the details of why he thinks my plumbing’s OK and so on, so we can have more time to screw. Yes, he said he wants to do that more often, as well as just be together more often. Not only do I want a child, but I am a nympho and I also love to just be with him, be it just cuddling, talking, or playing cards or whatever.

I just fear that old patterns will come into play. Meaning, we’ve said so many times that we’d screw more and be together more. We do for a while, then things come up where we can’t do so for a while and sometimes it seems hard to get back on track, but not as hard as in the past, so that’s good. We’re making progress.

Now he says, like he’s said numerous times, that I’ll be pregnant in a couple of months, as long as we make the time. Well, of course, I don’t believe this one bit, cuz God has a way of making things come up that neither of us could control. Still, he has a right to his beliefs, just as I do.

He says he doesn’t believe I’m sterile for these reasons. Cuz of the spotting incident and cuz my periods aren’t always every 28 days. They’re usually every 26-30 days and also, cuz some are lighter than others.

I thought the little fuck next door just blasted in, but instead, it was that killer stereo that drives by every so often.

I typed up a list of commonly used phone numbers by us and put copies by the computer phone and the living room phone. I also made Tom a wallet-sized one and I typed up all the numbers and addresses that were in journal 54 and then taped them into the last few blank pages. I still have a few blank pages for if we update it, but eventually, I’ll carry numbers and addresses over into some other journal.

Anyway, my emotions and my period don’t seem quite normal, as usual. These days, I never know what to expect in the way of periods. Usually, as soon as I bleed my mental state perks right up, but for most of today, I was really bumming. After a good cry, then doing things that I enjoy, it helped a little, even if the problem’s still there and always will be. When I have a full flow, I usually have it for about 5 hours, but I barely full-flowed for an hour this time around.

Tom really confuses the hell out of me. I just don’t get the things he says. He says stuff like he’s completely sure that there’s nothing wrong with my plumbing. We’ll have a kid. He doesn’t know when anymore, due to his being wrong about October and he wouldn’t tell me if he did know cuz I’m resistant to change. Since when have I ever tried resisting to good changes that I wanted, even if they did seem a bit scary and overwhelming? And now, after all this time, he says he doesn’t have any guesses as to when I’ll be pregnant? Well, he sure as hell has made enough guesses about that in the last few years, always saying he’d be surprised if I weren’t pregnant by certain time frames. Yeah, I’m full of surprises all right. How long is it going to take him to see that I’m right? How in the hell can he think I’m fertile after 4 months of screwing? OK, so we don’t do it enough and we probably never will so who knows if we could ever hit it right, but look at all those people out there that screw as much as we do or even less and they have no problem within 1-3 months. I think it’s very rare for people to screw around here and there or often for several months before they make a baby. I suppose it’s possible for some people to screw around for years and not hit it right, but I don’t think that’s a common occurrence. I should’ve known better than to get that ounce of hope up when he began cumming last July. Now, I’m back to having all the old feelings back that I had before July. It’s almost worse in a way, now, cuz now the finality of my worst fears is setting in and boy is that a slap in the face. It’s one thing to fear, feel, and suspect you’re sterile, it’s another to actually see it. And now I’m seeing it.

I wish I could get Tom to screw me every day around when I’m mid-cycle, but there’s no way he’s ever gonna change that. If it’s not a question of our schedules, he’ll be tired, busy, sore, sick, etc. But if we could just do that as I expressed to him and as he agreed, (we know he doesn’t do everything he agrees to, though), then I could either get a damn good surprise and conceive, or logically speaking, I could advance my sterility belief to the max, (it’s close enough already, though) and begin working through it. I want nothing more, at this time, than to get on with my life somehow. The need to rid myself of all these bad emotions about never having a kid is quite immense, but how? I haven’t succeeded yet. I fear that I’ll always be like this year after year. The thought of it terrifies me.

Why can’t I just forget about the baby? Why can’t I look at all the cons of having a kid and let that help me through this depressing time? How many more years am I gonna be forced by God to feel as I do, no matter how hard I try to get out of it? Why can’t I be happy? I just want to be happy most of the time. I know I can’t be happy all the time, but why not most?

Tom and I are just not sexually compatible for the most part. I always knew it. It’ll never change. There’s always a problem with me or him. Another month of us having sex about 5 times and him getting off 3 of those times will enhance my fear that he might be losing his desire for a kid. I believe it when he says he still has the desire, but does he want it as much? I really, really do get the feeling that he wants to stall it.

The cigarette machine is just about done. In fact, I tested it last weekend. Could he be waiting till I get going with that? Could it be a tease? Is he angry with me and doing it cuz of something I did to make him angry? Is he trying to instill patience in me? Could he really have a time frame in his mind set for when he’s gonna all of a sudden start screwing me like crazy? Oh, how I wish, but I feel that that’s just a dream. If we do start screwing more, will God all the more go after my female parts as a punishment or compensation?

I know some of the things I say may sound paranoid or crazy and that I analyze things too much, but it’s all I can do. I guess it’s normal for a person to sit and analyze something when they can’t actually do something about it. I’m just tired of this whole ordeal. It’s just too damn old. Why is God doing this to me? Why? I guess I’ll never know. Only have theories. If I go crying to Tom about it, he says he cares and that he’ll listen to me as much as I need him to, but I feel like my being bummed gets him bummed and even frustrated and annoyed. It’s like he can’t deal with it as well as he says he can and then I feel like he’s punishing me for the way I feel and what I have to say about it. I’m trying my damnedest to put on a smile when he’s here and not let him see me cry if I need to, but it’s hard. It’s really hard.

Last night I tried to get him to tell me why he says I’d be an above-average mom, in his opinion and he couldn’t even do that. So yes, I feel he just made it up for the sake of cheering me up.

I asked him last night if he thought we should ever get me checked out and instead of answering a normal question in a normal way, he got all exaggerated and said he didn’t know how to answer something that was make-believe. Well, I know it’s not make-believe. I just wonder when he’ll know it’s not make-believe. And admit it. I still get the feeling that he’s awfully embarrassed about ever seeing a doctor about things like this or things related to this. I feel like I could just about bet my life on him never suggesting a doctor if I don’t when he sees that year after year goes by with no baby. If I’m all wrong here, just as wrong as I was about making it to Arizona and getting married and his cumming, then when am I gonna be proven wrong and he was proven right like he swears will be the case? How many more years? And why has it taken so long? Could it be that God really does love us and will bless us with a kid eventually? Oh, come on, Mystery! Don’t go dreaming up more silly dreams. He hates me and he’ll never change his mind. I can see why it wasn’t meant for me to be here the two or so years before I did get here when Andy and I first mentioned it to my folks, but I can’t see why it’s not the so-called right time for a kid if it were a case of that. I believe we’re both as ready as we can ever be. So, if there’s more “preparing” needed to be done, as Robin says, before we can have this kid, I don’t see what it is. Is it the cigarette machine? Another house? Another job for Tom? What? And then there’s that protection theory. What if God knew that I’d be way, way, way worse off with a kid and is just trying to look out for me? I doubt that. He didn’t look out for me when I was a kid or when I was in the NHA. Why should he start now? Sure, he’s blessed me, but he’s certainly cursed me, too, even though Tom thinks that’s nonsense.

Robin tried to pass this bullshit on to me that she had to lie to me cuz sometimes one has to be thrown down before they’re picked up and then all this shit about me being in front of her with a big belly someday, telling her she was right. Good, God!

I just want this to stop. With or without a baby, I just want to stop feeling so sad, so empty, so incomplete, so cheated, so angry and so frustrated. I want to be more carefree and not be hit so hard by not getting the things I want. There could be something else I could want as bad as a kid when I wake up tomorrow. Think I can ever have it? Almost certainly not. Therefore, since I know this pattern and since this pattern is nothing new, you’d think I’d be used to it by now and not feel like such a sorry loser when I can’t get what I want.

Got my period, just like I knew I would. I’m gonna tell Tom that I’m not gonna dog him about it, like he said I could, cuz it’s not his fault. The only one at fault is God and the only way I’d dog Tom would be if I saw he wasn’t putting any effort into upping the amount of sex. I’ll also tell him I’m gonna have a November period, so get "even" with me and prove me wrong. I know he can’t, though, cuz he can’t fight God and win, any more than anyone else can. I’m sterile and that’s all there is to it.

I wonder, though, could Tom do anything to himself to make him sterile? If he has, he’s sure managed to keep it hidden from me and I should think and hope that he’d never do a thing like that to me. He always swore that if he didn’t want a kid, he’d tell me flat out. I just hope he isn’t and doesn’t go playing any kind of games with me. Call this extremely paranoid, but you can never know if someone truly gets off deep down seeing someone else be miserable. I already know, for example, he deliberately places stuff out of position and you know I’m rather eccentric about stuff like that. I can tell it’s deliberate most of the time cuz you can see that he took the time to study how I’d place certain objects so he could place them differently. No amount of bitching about this or telling him, hey, this really means a lot to me as the designer and caretaker of the interior of the house, has ever stopped him from doing this, either.

I don’t see how Tom could believe I’m not sterile. All that spotting episode was about was God’s way of teasing me by throwing 10% of hope into me, so he could snatch that away for a good laugh. And a damn good laugh I’m sure it was for him.

The night before last, I was woken up by what I was sure was next door, but Tom said he didn’t hear a thing and that even he was quiet. I had him go check to see if there was a vehicle next door and he said there wasn’t. Then I checked at 2 AM and at sunup and there wasn’t. I don’t think they’ve been around since last Friday, actually. I wonder if this has something to do with the vibe I felt about them leaving, even though that had gone away. Maybe they just went on a trip somewhere, cuz no one’s moved any stuff out of there that I’ve heard of. So that leaves 4 theories. It could’ve been that super loud stereo that drives by the house, although he’d have heard that. It could’ve been a non-musical sound. It could’ve been me dreaming or maybe he banged the wall to get me back for waking him up two nights before that when I was freaked out about the stereo breaking.

Yesterday I thought I was coming down with a cold cuz my throat was irritated, but luckily I woke up fine. Tom left me a message, cuz I was asleep when he got home, saying he thinks he may have gotten my cold. Why is it that he gets what I get? Toothaches, colds, etc.? Is this a guilt trip cuz of my complaining about it, an excuse to be sick to get out of doing things, or a weird coincidence?

It was freezing in here when I got up, so I worked out to warm up. Also, I’ve never been so flabby in my life. I don’t think I was even this flabby when I was big, so I told myself, look. You’re never gonna be hopelessly fat cuz of having a kid, so just take care of your body. Get thin and fit and stay that way. So even if I can’t always make myself stick to it, I’ll at least stick to it whenever I can and for as long as I can.

Tom also left a message saying that he tested the stereo out for hours and that it’s fine. I said to myself, oh yeah? Well, as soon as I go test it out and God sees that it’s me listening to it, it’ll fuck up.

But it didn’t. So far. Tammy said she thinks we shouldn’t bother touching it and that we should take the stereo, the receipt, and the warranty back and have them exchange it. She said she’d be pissed too, and that she was pissed cuz she went through the same thing and it took her 3 stereos to hit it right.

I’m getting more and more fed up with Tammy’s moods and tenseness and her ways. I mentioned that journal 1 will be 9 years old on the 27th and I got, “I’m not interested in your journals.” 

I feel like I’m walking on eggshells when I talk to her. She’s never interested in anything, yet it’s perfectly OK for her to tell me the same things over and over again that she's into and that doesn’t interest me, yet I don’t tell her I don’t care or am not interested. Is she that jealous or that insecure with herself that she has to have such problems dealing with those who are different than her? She and Mom and Dad all should take a good look at themselves in the mirror and ask themselves why they’re like this.

It’s human nature for a person to discuss what’s going on in their lives and their interests, but when you can’t even talk about that, what can you talk about? So I told Tammy this and I told her I don’t expect anyone to be what I want and kiss my ass and the same goes for me, so I’m just gonna deal with her by AOL for a while and she can do what she wants.

I’m playing a wicked prank on my parents. I thought it was about time and perfect timing, too. I was laughing so hard at the idea and boy are they gonna be confused!

I’m on the phone now with Andy. He and Quinn are having it out on the phone right now. Quinn’s such a sicko. A rude, selfish little bastard. Quinn keeps saying he doesn’t need to explain himself, but he is. Then he finally got honest and admitted he’s only looking out for himself and he doesn’t care about others.

As far as the prank on my folks, I wrote a wacky, senseless letter to them. Nothing threatening or sexual, of course, just weird. I’m sending the letter to Kim to send it to them. That way it’ll be postmarked MA and they won’t recognize Kim’s handwriting when she addresses it to them and writes the bogus return address. I typed it in a basic and very standard font that any computer or typewriter can do. I’m sure I’ll be one of their top suspects, but they do have a lot of enemies they left behind in MA. If they ever ask me about it, I’ll either just laugh and let them know I just had to play with them or maybe I’ll deny it and let them think about it some more.

When I address their envelope, the return address will be from Springfield. I signed the letter from “C.J.” As for the mention of Gene? I know I’ve heard them mention a guy named Gene as a friend of theirs. Anyway, here’s the letter.

Dear Arthur,

Just got this daisy wheel to get used to and how are you and Doe? Please come see us the next time you’re in Massachusetts. It’s been a while and it’s not worth it here.

Sorry to hear about Gene, but if it’s not in his genes, he can’t wear jeans. It’s always good to eat before watching TV because then you can understand the dialogue better. Amy and Dan are always on time these days, but they have to count their ABCs better. When you last spoke to me, I didn’t want to throw a vase of flowers out the window, I just wanted to run and hide. That way you wouldn’t be able to see that I had my tie on backward.

How goes it with you and your family? Oh, I know. I think it means that a candle has to be spared for some kind of gypsy culture, right? I heard all about it. I’m so sorry, but the weather’s been quite damp and rainy here and I can’t even see the way to the ballgame. Did you drive up recently? I heard on my scanner that honey goes with tea quite well.

Don’t worry about a thing. I know how to reach you in case of an emergency. I’ll give you a buzz one of these days real soon so we can discuss how wood is related to metal.

I can relate to those who have a true value in what they see. If it’s not a case of a fluke, it doesn’t mean that we can’t walk to our cars in the mornings. I see your logo. I see it even when it’s dark. It means a lot to me and I’d really like to try to tie together some kind of connection. There is no king without a queen and if being a rock means being that, I’d rather be a piece of mud. Wouldn’t you? I guess so, anyway, and it’s a long way to go before we have any viceroys. Stop being as sad as you were when you were thrilled, or else I’ll have to water down the hose outside the place here. I hope for a red one, so I can see how tasty the countertops are. Qualms are ready to be taken advantage of and so is a weird dog bone.

Hey, I tried, OK? Don’t blame me for being a clock on the wall that has no Halloween candy. I can’t help it, but I can help falling down when I sit in a crème-colored chair. Don’t you see? See it? It’s here. It’s here now. Come follow me and I’ll show you the man who adopted that attitude.

C.J.

Later...

Just went to put out my final mail to Bob and I saw next door’s jeep there. Then a few minutes later they left quietly. I heard 3 doors shut, so this must either mean that one door was to put the kid in back in a car seat, the other was for her, and then one for him. I think they all leave together for the most part. Then she either comes in with him or with someone else. This could’ve also meant that he packed stuff to take wherever they’re moving to if they really are moving. They moved in little by little and I never really noticed or heard them move in as I did with the M's, so maybe they’re moving out little by little and are gonna spend more and more time at the new place. That’s how they moved in here. They did it gradually. They might’ve rented this house temporarily till they could get some other house they wanted more. Or maybe they’re going into an apartment, condo, or townhouse. It still seems too soon for a person renting a house to move and there’s no for-sale or for-rent sign up. I just hope that whenever the hell they move God doesn’t put another car stereo blaster there or increase the ones that go down the street. Let him give me back the dogs and kids, if he must do something, cuz I can sleep with them and a fan or a radio drowns them out when I’m up.

The feeling of them moving is up once again. Not too strong, but it’s there. I don’t know if it’s just wishful thinking or just cuz of another trip out of town or whatever. I just wish I could have mysterious neighbors that I never know if they’re home or not or what the hell they’re up to and all about.

So far, I’ve learned to cook 3 things. Barbecued ribs, spinach pie, and pot roast.

Later...

The kids two yards down are out there yelling now, but I figured they would throughout the winter when I saw they got those monkey bars. It’s not my favorite thing to hear, but it’s tolerable after dealing with that bass and they can’t be heard in the house like the M’s kids could be heard in here loud and clear. They still live out front a lot, too, and I never hear them, so that’s nice. Anything’s better than bass. The bass is like having every part of every wall, window, and ceiling pounded.

Does Tom know something I don’t know? Or is he just too hopeful in a naïve and unrealistic way or does he just not want to admit it to further my own disappointment and belief in the fact that I’m sterile? I hate to tell him this, but it’s gotten way too obvious that my worst vibe/feeling has come true, so why is he so sure I’m not sterile? He still tells me I’m gonna be wrong about the kid, wrong about when I say I can’t quit smoking, and wrong about when I say I could never maintain a schedule. Oh yeah? How? When?

I told him, “You said I wouldn’t get an October period and you were wrong. I say I’ll get a November period too, so prove me wrong and beat God.” 

Whether he knows it or not, I’m gonna come out the sorry winner even though I’d give anything to be proven wrong on the kid, the smoking, and the schedule.

Got myself a neat puzzle that I downloaded from AOL and Tom decompressed it. It’s a map of the US and each state is a piece of the puzzle you put together. You can also do state capitals.

Saturday morning he got off big time, which is great. I only hope I’m dead wrong when I suspect I’ll see a definite pattern where he deliberately makes sure we don’t hit it right. A part of me says we didn’t do it enough or hit it right. An even bigger part of me says it should’ve hooked this month if I was fertile. I still sense more than ever that I’ll be facing my sterility over the next few months like never before. Will I go to a doctor? I’d love to, but it’s not that easy. A doctor can’t fix me and no doctor, Tom, or myself can fight God and change God’s mind. Even if we did, would the baby live to be born? Would I have it the regular way? Would the baby be OK? Would it die of sudden infant death syndrome? I swear, though, if my periods could talk to me, they’d say, “You ain’t ever getting rid of us! Don’t bother, cuz we’re here to stay. We love you so very much and are so faithfully devoted to you.”

The big question is, what the fuck am I gonna do with my life? I can’t do anything I want, so what can I do?

Tom’s never been right on all those different months he said I’d be pregnant. I’ve never been wrong on all those times I’ve said I wouldn’t be pregnant.

In other news, it’s been a peacefully freeloaderless weekend.

Tom left a message for me saying the stereo was working and that sure sounded too good to be true. So I began disk 1 - no problem. I was psyched! Then it crashed again. How can I not feel teased and cursed by God?

Tom got the hair out so the rest of it is on God and I also have a hell of a feeling that he’s not gonna let me have any stereo work right or for long, anywhere, anymore, and probably ever again. I may as well go tape all my CDs.

Later...

It’s cold out there! It got so cold in the house last night, too. It’s only to hit 75º today, but it’ll be back up into the middle 80s in a couple of days.

I am so fucking bloated right now and the pre-cramps are stronger. I wouldn’t be surprised if I got my period earlier.

I had an idea that I told Tom when he got up. Part of what he had to say in response to what I had to say confused me, but anyway, I thought of an idea that I thought would suit us both.

As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t think we have sex enough to hit it right, regardless of my sterility belief. So, I told him that I wanted to either confirm my worst fears or be in for a surprise, so that can maybe make it easier to deal with whatever happens. He told me to do something about the things that make me unhappy the other day. So, I thought we could compromise. You see, as far as I thought I understood, he doesn’t like mixing business with pleasure. Meaning, he wants to have sex only for fun. Well, the same goes for me, but I think that during the times it’s supposed to be more likely for a woman to conceive, we should have fun but make more of an effort to screw. That way, neither of us has to be left feeling like the other ran the show and to hell with what the other wanted. We both share the same dream, so I thought this would be the quickest way to either be in for the shock of my life or see my worst fears come true so I can just deal with it and get on with my life for once and for all, somehow, someway.

So he told me that the timing, counting, or frequency of the sex wasn’t the issue for him and that the only problem was my always getting upset after sex. Well, I don’t think it’s fair to say I’m always upset, but if I make the dumb mistake I mentioned the last time, I would. And if he didn’t cum, but I’m not nearly upset about that as I was when he’d never cum. I told him I’d try to work on this, though.

The part that confused me was how he told me you can’t find out either way (if I’m sterile or not) and that it doesn’t work that way. You can’t find out either way? Well, wouldn’t it be obvious and go without saying that if a woman found out she was pregnant she’d know she wasn’t sterile?

I asked if two people could screw for 5 years, be both OK, but not make a baby. He said yes, that’s very possible. I don’t know. It’d seem to me that one would take that as a sure sign of a problem.

I still think something’s up here. I’m not saying he’s bullshitting me about his wanting a kid and that we could work out the cost of it, no matter how we were doing financially, but I have a hell of a feeling that he’s decided to stall on this for some reason. There’s been certain things he’s said and certain ways he’s said it that tells me that.

I still have the feeling hanging over me that something is wrong down there. Not as strong as the feeling I had about my ear for 6 years, but the scary thing about it is that I was right about my ear.

I talked to Andy last night cuz I was so depressed, scared, and angry while Tom was asleep. He’s become a good listener and he did cheer me up to a degree, even if no one can solve my problems. He told me the bible says that spirits in different forms, like with Robin, will lead you astray if you listen to them and that if you turn on them, they’ll do shit to you like fuck with your stereo. I don’t know. Maybe they’ve got a part in it, but I still think the main player in controlling my life is God himself. I don’t know what kind of God and it may not be him like I said before. Maybe it’s a devil of some sort.

Andy also said we should still see a doctor in April to see what’s wrong with me. I explained to him why I can’t do that. I’ll bet Tom would never mention that, too, if I never got pregnant. As I said, I know Tom does want a kid, but does he really want one that bad? As bad as I do? Sometimes I wonder.

Andy also says that maybe it’s not me and that maybe Tom’s shooting blanks. Given the fact that I’m a DES daughter with a strong vibe she’s had before and been right on, I highly doubt the problem could be him. If it were, I can’t see him ever doing anything about it.

I just wish I knew what my fucking purpose in life is! It’s got to be more than it already has been, but I don’t know about that one. Or else it’d be more by now.

Tom asked a rather funny question the other day. He said he likes change, but that change scares some people and he asked me if I thought things were changing too much lately. How weird. OK, so there have been some great changes in the last several months, like with our sex lives, but that and any other changes aren’t scary or overwhelming to me. His cumming, for example, which is the change that means the most to me and is a big deal to me isn’t overwhelming or scary to me in any kind of a way I can’t handle. I still fear a kid would be scary and overwhelming and that I couldn’t handle it, but I’m still willing to take that chance. I wonder if he said he likes change and asked that question to cover for stalling the kid. Since he told me he likes change, maybe he thinks I’ll be less suspicious of him stalling, should he do so. I wonder if he really has all the faith in me as a mother he claims to have. Perhaps he’s more afraid of how the pregnancy, having it and raising it would impact me than he’s willing to admit.

Twice in the last 4 months or so, I asked him to tell me why, in his opinion, does he think I’d be an above-average mother and he still hasn’t told me. This makes me wonder if he hasn’t told me cuz he doesn’t really believe that and cuz it’s just a way to butter me up, but I hope not.

I wish I could be so shockingly and pleasantly surprised by finding out I was pregnant just like I was about coming here and things that have happened since being here, but I know there’s no way I will. How many times in one’s life can one be that surprised? Especially with the way my life usually is as far as that’s concerned. The pattern is just too clear when it comes to stuff I want really, really bad.

Later...

Once again, when I first turned the CD player on, it worked, but then died again. I agree with Tom, though, when he says most technicians don’t know what they’re doing, so he’ll decide whether or not to bring it in to be fixed or fix it himself. I don’t think anyone can fix the CD player or how it doesn’t record right and even if I got another stereo in mint condition, God will just screw the damn thing up.

I’m so fucking bloated right now. I wish my period would just get itself over with. See, there’s no way in hell Tammy could feel like this after conceiving. She may have felt bloated, but there’s no way she could’ve felt the pre-cramps like I do. I don’t see how anyone could feel this way and end up just having gotten pregnant and not getting a period. I think that the only reason God had me spot those 13 days was to tease me. He just wanted to spark 5% - 10% of hope in me, so he could then take it away and laugh at me. Just like he did with Scott and other people and other things.

I think there are 3 reasons why the stereo’s fucked up. 1. Cuz of the dumb mistake I made by not making sure my hair didn’t get caught in it. 2. A punishment by God. 3. Cuz God doesn’t want me to ever go deaf so I can hear the neighbors.

I wonder, could something else really good be coming up? I ask this, cuz of the way life is full of ups and downs, good times and bad and I still believe in compensation. We’ve had bum luck lately. Especially me, so is it cuz of getting the rabbit? I don’t think so. I think it’d be cuz of something even bigger, but what? I’m not getting a kid out of all this shit, so what? I guess it’s not compensation for a good thing to come. I guess I’m still cursed. But why? What am I doing that’s so terribly wrong? I know I’m not perfect, and my attitude’s not always great, but is my strong desire to have a kid a sin or something? I guess it is. I just wish I could wake up tomorrow detesting the idea of a kid and have my own car that I could drive fearlessly. Then I wish I could keep a schedule and go to my typical office job or something like that 5 days a week like Tom does. On top of that, I wish I didn’t smoke.

It’s still so fucking chilly out! I wish it were like Florida here. I’ll wish that till March. I think the winters here aren’t much shorter than they are in MA, but they’re not as cold. I don’t think the summers here are much longer than they are in MA, but they’re hotter.

I’m in one of the worst moods possible right now. First of all, another negative baby dream last night. It was about how that’d be all I’d ever see or hear, no matter where I went like it is on TV. It seems like the worse of a mood I’m in and the more I yearn for the child I’ll never have, the more it’s on TV.

I’ve been having horrible feelings about God not only not giving me things that really matter to me but taking away the things I do have that matter to me. I made the incredibly stupid mistake of begging God to please stop torturing me and to please just let me be happy and at peace with myself and life and not put me in for female problems. I could’ve kicked myself for this and I told myself, you’re really in for it now! How dumb can you be?

Sure enough, my CDs won’t play. It’s just like the last time. Tom found a piece of my hair wrapped around the motor, which is the logical part of it, but I still find this all a hell of a coincidence. Right after praying. Two CD players right in a row. Something that means so much to me. Right after having the feeling about this.

Oh, so God’s gonna hurt Tom, too, cuz he means so much to me? Kill him? Kill my animals? Make my hair fall out? Burn my journals? Take my voice away? What the fuck is he gonna do to me next? I’m afraid to even walk around. For all I know, he could have me fall down and break my neck so I have to live my life in a wheelchair.

All he has to do is say he signed it. They can’t prove otherwise. This is what Tom said to tell Andy if they questioned him about that form on which I signed his name as a witness. All Tom has to do is say he isn’t punishing me or teasing me or trying to instill patience in me as far as the kid goes, and I can’t prove differently. All I can do is suspect. God, I hope I’m wrong, though!

This is what I think of the whole situation from beginning to end at this time. I think some of his feelings have remained and some of his feelings have changed. It’s a similar situation between how he thought I’d be a lousy wife, then saw that I wasn’t.

I think that in the beginning, he didn’t want to be a father, but never hated kids and would’ve taken it if it had come. Then, he decided he liked the idea but had no intentions of taking chances with making a kid till last July, even though he’s told me differently over the last few years or so. Positioning still may have been a big factor in his problem as well as other things going on in life. So, as of July, he probably said to himself, OK, having a kid now would be fine, but if I can help it, I’m gonna stall it for around 6 months to a year to tease her and to instill patience in her. How much do you want to bet that if he gets off after my period which I’m due for next Friday, he’ll conveniently do it at the wrong times? Yes, I really think he does want a kid but isn't that serious about it. He said we have no reason to wait, money’s no problem, but who knows what’s truly going through his mind? Even he said I can’t ever know what’s on his mind. Maybe he doesn’t have all this faith in me as a mother that he claims to have. Maybe he worries deep down or subconsciously, whether he knows it or not, about the same things I worry about, like handling the pregnancy, the labor/delivery, dealing with it, etc.

Anyway, right now, this is what I fully believe. I believe that if he’s serious and really wants the kid as bad as he says, he’s not gonna step up the action towards making one till right after Evie has hers. That’ll be around March. On the other hand, maybe he’s more serious than I think what with the way he’s been working on the cigarette machine which is ready for testing tomorrow. And of how we’re suddenly getting into cooking to save money.

I asked Tom if the spots I had were a sure sign that I was not sterile, or if he thinks that a woman can still do that and be sterile. He said that he doubts I’m sterile, but we can never know for sure either way. I still feel so teased by God, regardless of what’s on Tom’s mind or what the case is with my plumbing. Enough is enough already, but I knew it. I knew that if he ever came, the next step would be to really deal with and face the fact of sterility. God just had to tease me those years, even though I figured on sure sterility, but here’s where it gets really real. It’s just like with the woman. I had the gut feeling for so many years that she wasn’t meant to be. I knew she wasn’t meant to be, but then I really knew she wasn’t meant to be. The question is am I ever gonna be OK with a kid being not meant to be as I’ve come to be OK with the woman being not meant to be?

I’m just so afraid that I’ll be in for a long life of GYN problems, sterility, and feelings of being cheated, cursed, angry, bitter, sad, frustrated, and incomplete. This must be what they mean when they talk about “restless spirits.” They feel incomplete and like they lived and then left the world with unfinished business. Well, maybe there is such a thing as heaven or reincarnation. I guess none of us can know till we’re dead, although I doubt God would send me to heaven if there were a heaven and a hell. Maybe I’ll be reincarnated as a woman, once again, and have no problems getting pregnant. Hey, I may even come back as one of these pregnant 14-year-olds. I don’t have to finish the music or the woman issue, as there’s a difference between something that’s ended and something that’s ended, but that isn’t finished. Maybe if I can’t finish unfinished business and dreams here, there will be a place elsewhere to do so.

If only I could know what I’m doing now to piss God off so much and make him hate me and if I’ve done anything in the past that struck bad chords within him, can’t he forgive me? The guy forgives murderers, so why not me? I’m not perfect, but why is it that I’ve had to be treated like I may as well have been a mass murderer for most of my life? If I had taken someone’s life, then I could see this as a perfectly justified punishment. But since he still blesses those who do kill with kids, what could I have done that’s worse than that?

I had another baby dream last night, but I don’t remember it.

Perhaps I made a mistake by writing in the note I left him, thanking him for cheering me up, that I was gonna get pregnant next month. He hates demands and he’s gonna take that as a demand and all the more he’ll veer the other way and make sure we don’t hit it right. As far as the kid is concerned, I feel like if I say I’m gonna get pregnant with certainty, he’s got to make sure I don’t to show me I can never know something for sure. If I say I can’t with certainty, he still has to make sure that I don’t to try to send a message saying - if I’m gonna say negative results will happen, they will. It’s just like that time, what was it, about a year ago? Anyway, there was a time, which I know I wrote about, where I said I was gonna do anything I could to get pregnant. Then he said, “So what are you going to do? Run out and cheat on me?” He knew he wasn’t ready to cum then. At least that’s what I believe. Well, if he just puts all the honest effort into trying to hit it right and make this kid he says he wants as bad as I do, then unless I’m sterile for sure, as I believe, the past is done and over with in my book.

Later...

I’m watching a movie now. It’s OK so far. No one’s having a baby in this movie, so that’s nice for a change.

After reading back in here and reviewing things Tom’s said lately, I could almost bet all these journals on the fact he’s not too happy with me lately and he’s gonna have me pay for it. The kid’s called off for now and I would bet my life and even his that he won’t come near me 14 days after this next period. It’s really a shame, though, that “teaching me a lesson” is more important than our dream. If I’m sterile, that’s not our fault, but I don’t think Tom’s been putting in a fraction of the effort I know he’s capable of.

He went down on me earlier which was great. At least there’s something we do in bed that’s virtually problem-free.

This movie’s getting worse by the minute and so is my handwriting.

Anyway, I’m almost sure we’ll be screwing in the morning (as long as we’re positioned right and as long as he’s not hurting in some way) but I doubt he’ll cum. Actually, he just might, though. You can’t get pregnant one week before your period.

Later...

I read an ironic familiarity in my John Saul book. A woman’s newborn was stolen and she had dreams of him, so she knew he wasn’t dead. Then she went on to say how she’d have dream premonitions and had a dream constantly where she was older, with lots of kids.

Maybe there’s some way that I’ve never realized that would change God’s mind. I just hope my hubby here doesn’t renege on our deal. Our agreement is to have more sex. I don’t know, though. His tone earlier when he said we were just gonna have sex for fun for a while and if I get pregnant, fine - tells me something. It’s as if he may have said, “You really annoy and frustrate me lately with the things you say. Therefore, I’m gonna make you wait longer to punish and tease you.”

Can I really be all wrong about him? Can I just be paranoid? I wish, but somehow, I strongly doubt it. You see, a lot of my vibes/premonitions are still quite accurate. I know I’ll never have a child. I wonder, though, will God tease me far worse than he already has? Will he allow me to conceive, then just as I find out I’m pregnant for sure, will he take it away?

Nah - I doubt God would ever even give me the honor of ever at least finding out I was pregnant in the first place, let alone have it. And have it vaginally.

Later...

Tom just got up. I’m getting tired, but if want any fun before bed, I have to wait a whole damn hour, maybe more, before we do.

I was playing Nintendo games. I’m still the same with the car racing, but my shooting ability has dwindled a bit as far as the duck hunt goes.

I remembered another thing in John Saul’s book. This teenage girl tried to kill herself. Then she moved and began to see a boy whose parents heard about her. So the parents fought over whether or not the boy should see her and they never even met her. Yeah, I can only imagine all the parents I never met back in Longmeadow who must’ve fought over me. Before, during, and after my first suicide attempt.

There is one more thing I haven’t mentioned yet and that is that I’ve had this mysterious irritation at the opening of my crotch for a few days now. I have no discharges, fevers, or anything, so again, is this a little punishment cuz he’s cumming occasionally and cuz of my wanting a kid? See, this is why I’m afraid to go to a GYN. I’m afraid of God having me in for female problems to tease me even more. If I had to have a hysterectomy, he couldn’t tease me anymore, but the punishment would still be there. I just want him to stop. I just want him to either give us the kid or let me get on with life without feeling teased, cheated, and incomplete. Or angry and bitter.

We had Bunny running around the music room earlier and she was so cute! Cuz she’s bigger and will be much, much much bigger, she needs the extra exercise. She was more like a little puppy than even Piggy is. She was so happy, jumping all around and jumping up and down and running around the room. We have to watch her, though, to keep her from chewing wires.

At the start of my day, I put myself on a diet, but that’s not going so well. I guess I just can’t muster up the kind of motivation I’d have if I were in need of losing more than 10 pounds instead of just about 7 pounds.

Well, I guess I’ll choose between TV, reading, computer work and music for now. If I remember anything else about the new problem God’s replaced me with, I’ll make a note of it or just write it down. I just knew that if he came, God would go do something else, but personally, this is easier to deal with than the old bullshit.

Later...

I was just laughing to myself when I thought of something I could write to my parents if I did so again. When I’m about to tell them about Bunny, I could start off with, “We found out about a surprising and unexpected addition to our family,” and then go on about Bunny. This is true, too, about Bunny, but I know what they’re gonna think I’m gonna say and man, will their hearts be pounding and will they start getting rather unhappy! Maybe I just will give them a good scare.

Also, this didn’t bother me cuz I could only hear it out back, but someone was playing some kind of wind instrument at 7:14 this morning. 7:14 this morning! Now that is desperate. That is a truly classic example of how people want to be heard so damn bad. It was so obvious too, that that person wanted to be heard and was sitting right by an open window.

God, do I keep making the most stupid mistakes, or what?! Tom and I were chatting earlier and there are some things he said that I don’t agree with and some that I do. This morning we went to screw around and I was so stupid as to let myself be too far up to the wall of the waterbed. Therefore, when he was on top of me, he had to stop as he was worried about me banging my head. Then his tooth hurt too, and he said we were running out of time.

I still can’t believe that these constant problems, whether they’re our fault or not, are just coincidences. They can’t all be. God’s having us have these problems is the tease and God’s sterilizing me is the punishment. How can Tom expect me to have an open mind about it, not be upset, and run around saying that I don’t know what the future holds? Well, I do know what the future holds and I can’t help but be sad, mad, and downright frustrated. When I say I know what the future holds, that doesn’t mean I’m saying I know it all. I didn’t know we were gonna have a rabbit, but I know we’re not gonna have a kid. I’ve also had some things I was sure of and I ended up being wrong and am aware of that. However, I’ve never been wrong yet about a baby and I don’t see how or why I could end up being wrong on that in this day and age. It’s just as obvious as the singing and woman situation was and other things, too.

I swear I’m gonna quit watching TV, too. I turned on the TV and the first thing I heard was, “Mothers who almost got away with murder.” 

God just had to make sure I’d turn the TV on in time to hear that. And yes, I really do believe that. It’s part of the tease he just has to rub into me. TV’s nothing but babies this, babies that. Plus, bad moms and unwanted pregnancies. I’m already reminded enough on my own of what I can’t have.

I saw part of a documentary about the disabled, and this paralyzed woman was saying how shocked she was to find that she was pregnant. Do I have to be disabled too, in order to “earn” a child, since I won’t kill anyone or become a drug lord? Does something even more terrible than anything that’s ever happened to me already have to happen to possibly get God to change his mind and let us have a child? Perhaps the singing dream was far-fetched, even though others who sing no worse or better than me have made it. And perhaps the woman dream was far-fetched cuz they’re all too masculine for my taste and the few fems want non-fems, but how far-fetched can the dream of having a child be? Oh, so I’m asking for an uncommon, inhuman, unrealistic, out-of-this-world, ridiculous, and unheard-of thing? Well, obviously I am.

Tom said something that’s dead true, but that scared the shit out of me. After I said I was fed up and ready to walk away from my dreams, he said no one can walk away from their dreams, cuz their dreams are who they are and what they’re made of. Great. This is a real damn comforting fact. All the more I can expect to feel like my life will be incomplete and that I didn’t really accomplish much or get what I wanted. It’s really scary to think that I’ll be living life feeling like it’s incomplete and mostly second best. I just can’t settle. If I could settle, then I’d have taken any job I could get, I’d take the offers of any person that hit on me, I wouldn’t be here today and I could go on and on with all kinds of examples. I wish to hell I could settle, though!

I really feel like Tom’s blaming me and punishing me, but he swears that’s not true. He says that if I say something to turn him off sexually, that he’s the one who feels turned off and that’s not my fault. Aside from the fact that just about everything turns him off sexually, I feel like it is all my fault. He says I need to stop trying to control and dictate things, like life’s events, my feelings, my need to talk, and that I should do what I feel is right at that moment. I feel, though, that if I don’t watch what I say, he’s gonna be hurt, angry, or frustrated and punish me for it by saying he’s been put out of the mood for sex. I told him I’d try harder to not say something’s inevitable or etched in stone. Even if a doctor said I was sterile, I told him I’d still insist that the future is unknown. Wish I could make myself run around saying - I know we’re gonna have a kid. But what if I ended up believing that? Then eventually reality would once again sink in and I’d have to be hurt all over again.

This evening he said that he wasn’t saying that this was necessarily true, but that I seemed hostile and like I was trying to pick a fight with him, so then he found himself wondering what he could’ve done to set me off and that his wondering about it is was what put him out of the mood. And he says it’s not my fault? Why? Is it cuz he doesn’t want me to say anything’s his fault? Is he figuring that if he doesn’t blame me, I won’t blame him, so then he can go and do whatever he wants? The last thing I ever want to do is knowingly pick fights with him or make the person I love upset in any way shape or form.

He said he was also upset with me earlier for saying we couldn’t have a child. I didn’t say that. I said that because I was gonna get a period, I think there’s something wrong with me. He said he just thinks that the first time we did it, it was too soon and that the second time really didn’t count that much cuz it was a wimpy cum. Then, if he thought it was too soon or too wimpy and wanted this kid so bad, why didn’t he do it more often? Cuz he wants to tease me, punish me, or instill patience in me? Cuz of the dental work expenses? Cuz of the pig’s and rabbit’s new cage expenses? Would he get off seeing me teased or upset by not being pregnant till Evie had hers so I could feel all the more hopeless, cursed and that life isn’t fair? Does he think it’d be harder for his mom to handle two grandkids born around the same time? Does he think it’d be easier for her if they were spaced out? Does he want Evie’s kid to be about a year older, so she’d maybe give us the stuff her kid outgrows so we could save at least a little money?

I know I need to work on not saying something’s inevitable and etched in stone to his face, but to myself, it’s pretty impossible. It’s a scary and familiar pattern that I’ve been through before. Nothing is suggesting that it’s that more possible that God’s gonna change his mind, just cuz he’s cumming here and there. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that a woman who screwed 10 and 15 days after her period should be pregnant and if not, she can really believe something’s wrong. What about Ron? Thank God, but he never got me pregnant and he must’ve cum in me a good 10 times, give or take a few. And back then I did fit the so-called qualifications for being a mom. So if that did me no good then, how’s it gonna do me any good now?

There has been something going on, though, that is also familiar, but I don’t see how it can’t just be a weird coincidence. Before I became a dancer, I had money dreams. The night I was hired in the first club I worked at, Andy, Kara and I went to a Chinese place and my fortune cookie said I’d never have to worry about money again. Well, in a sense that was true.

Remember how I said I was having baby dreams? Well, I had one last night and the night before and I remember the one I had a couple of nights ago. It was a negative dream, not surprisingly, but it was weird. Before I get into it, I got Chinese the other night and my fortune cookie said to get ready for some big change in my personal life.

Anyway, in the dream, I was with some unknown woman who was in her late 20s or early 30s. She was going on and on about how happy she was that she really got to know me better that day. Then we were in a grocery store. Attached to it was a lab, right by a display of home pregnancy tests, with hundreds of cups that obviously contained pee to be tested for pregnancy. All I remember was gazing into the room at the cups and saying something about that there’d never be a cup from me to be tested. Then I began to get upset and the girl was assuring me that the lady was ringing up her purchases and that we’d split. But then the cashier began to brush this girl’s hair. The cashier seemed to be an older lady, but then I noticed the girl’s physique more clearly. She was fat, had lots of freckles, and had medium-length red hair. Then I noticed she had lots of bald spots, and that’s when I woke up. Weird, huh? But it seems like a typical baby dream for me. I can’t imagine ever having a happier one or one where I saw that I was pregnant.

Well, I don’t know if I’ve remembered to cover all the important things we said or all my thoughts, opinions, beliefs, emotions, or feelings, but I think I got the bulk of it all covered.