Gizzy may be escaping anytime soon and if he does, I’ll have to trap him for the third time and put a screen across the top of the aquarium. I’d have to cut a tiny part of the screen, too, to fit the tube through it that leads to his upstairs areas. Let’s see if I can describe this any good. Well, the box that Mary’s cage sits on, sits on top of the aquarium. The open part of the box faces the half of the cage part that’s open. The part where he could’ve always jumped out of if he’d really wanted to. I noticed shortly after he was wheeling, that he wasn’t in his cage. Then, Tom spotted him up in the wooden box. It’s amazing too, that he didn’t freak out and run somewhere, cuz I reached right by him at one point, to check to see if he was in his trap. So, when I saw him in the box, I figured he’d get curious, go explore and escape. Well, he did get curious and explore, but he only walked around the piece of Plexiglas that the box sits on (cuz the box isn’t quite wide enough to rest on top of the aquarium), then walked around the rim of the aquarium, then finally jumped back down into his cage and hopped onto his wheel. I don’t know if he’ll escape or if he’ll just jump up into the box here and there, then back into his cage. We’ll just have to see.

I’m gonna be right about my theory about the fight we had on the first day of his so-called promise. Regardless of how much of it was Tom’s fault, yes, God did make sure we had that fight, cuz if we would’ve screwed that day, and if he’d have cum, I’d have probably gotten pregnant. If I’m OK, that is, but of course, God would’ve made sure I lost the baby. I know I’m gonna get my period on the 1st. That’s how I know this. If I didn’t get it till the 2nd, then that’d really point to something being wrong with me, cuz 14 days prior to the 2nd, was when he got off in me. How can I tell I’ll get it on the 1st? Well, logic is a part of it, I guess. Also, I guess maybe God did sort of answer my prayer, but just a day later, and not nearly like he did with Andy’s teeth. My tits are a little less sore today, but it may not have to do with God at all. That’s cuz the day before your period, your tits and pre-cramps tend to relax and back off a bit the day before. It’s now the 30th, and my body’s doing what it normally does the day before. So, since I’m as sure as can be that I will be ragging on the 1st, I was right about why we had that fight. It was destined. However, I guess something making sure we miss it, is better than sterility confirmations. If I kept getting periods 14 days before we screwed where he got off, that’d be an awfully bad sign. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something wrong with me and maybe God just doesn’t want me to see this at this time, figuring I couldn’t handle it. Yeah, well I don’t see how I could handle getting as far as getting pregnant, just to lose it 3-4 months down the road. If I go to the fertility people in a few years, that’s what I’ll be getting. I won’t be going to get a baby. I’ll be going to get miscarriages.

All locked up. Well, sort of. I had asked Tom to find me my padlock and my combo lock a few days ago. Not surprisingly, he didn’t make any move to find them, no doubt in fear of my locking the hoop net up. He was telling me how that’s vandalism and trespassing. Yeah, well I wasn’t about to sit around listening to the 4 or so different little trespassers that have been spending their weekends at next door’s basketball hoop, which is barely 5 feet away from the house. Obviously, these kids think next door’s vacant. It does look that way more than most of the time. There’s never a car there and all the blinds are down and I think that maybe she’s been away somewhere for a little while, cuz I don’t remember seeing lights on over there at night or hearing car doors as she gets her ride to and from the house.

I told Tom to forget the locks and I took the lock that came with one of the journals my folks sent and used that. However, I didn’t quite manage to get the lock locked, cuz it’s such a tiny lock. Also, that hoop, which has always been quite low, has gotten even lower since the last time I put that metal clip on it right when next door first moved in about a year ago. Back then, I had to stand on a chair, but this time, I could reach it just fine. I could reach the bottom of the net just fine on heels. It’d be more of a stretch for me to reach the rim of the hoop. Also, the net, which is made of metal chains, has been broken since I last played around with it. There’s a part of it that hangs lower, while the other side of the net’s higher.

Anyway, I took the lock, and at first it got tangled, but I managed to snag the two longest parts of the net and slip the lock through the links. I’d assume that it’d take an adult to reach it to get this lock out and it’d take a few minutes. Kids, however, couldn’t reach it, but then I realized something else. I’m not sure and we’ll see if I can get a better look at it in daylight, but a ball still may be able to get through it, cuz of the shorter side. The shorter side hangs free and it might be able to just push the longer side that’s locked, out of the way as it tumbles through. Still, I’ll be much firmer with these little punks next weekend and remind them that trespassing is illegal.

Fucking kids! You know, I’ve never been gladder to be getting my period in 1-3 days and I even wonder if 35 isn’t a fine age to wait to possibly deal with a kid of our own. Tom wouldn’t allow us to go to a doctor any sooner, anyway, so I may as well look at the bright side of the freedom that I’ve got now and will have plenty of for quite some time - I can sleep, the house is peaceful, etc.

Now I’m laughing at both Tom and I and not just Marla. It hit me that there is no such thing as more fertile or less fertile. Less fertile would mean a woman ovulates less than one egg a month and more fertile would mean that a woman drops more than one egg a month. Well, normal women are said to drop one egg a month, as long as they get monthly periods. So fertile is fertile and that’s that. Age does not matter. As long as you have your monthly periods, you’re not any less or more fertile, cuz there’s no such thing unless you’re not getting periods or are on fertility drugs.

My tits have really been a nightmare. I’ve never ever ever had them hurt this bad. I suppose this is God’s way of punishing me for not being strong enough to not have said “no” when Tom first suggested that bullshit promise. Instead, I was a little conspirator and I asked for this. Also, this must be for my ignoring Dr. Bock’s nurse’s call and not letting God get to me or what he has others do to get at me.

At this point, as time goes on from that bullshit promise thing, I think both God and Tom were responsible. God let this happen to play on my emotions and I think Tom knew he couldn’t, but more likely wouldn’t, keep his promise. But why he did it, I just don’t know. I only have theories which I’ve stated numerous times before, but why does he do a lot of the things he does? Why’s he so obsessed with making me wait on him? Why does he get off on going out of his way to move things around, be different, disagree, etc.? It’s like he wants to be the direct opposite of me. The more I want to do whatever, the more he stalls. If I’m not in a hurry for whatever, he is. If I say, “Here. Watch this movie. You’ll love it,” he’ll say it was just OK or that it sucked. He just seems to deliberately want to disagree with me and just repel and go the other way.

I still really feel, deep down, that if it hadn’t mattered to me how much he came, he just might be cumming more than he does now.

I told him it’s OK that he decides when we go to a doctor, but that if this has anything to do with him making me wait cuz he feels he didn’t get to wait long enough to get married, then he’s got to take a good look at himself. He’d need to ask himself what’s more important; a child, or making me wait to either punish me, teach me a lesson, teach me patience, get even with me, etc.

If this is really about the marriage, like I believe it is (among other things), then I’m sorry. He said he only wanted to wait just two more weeks, cuz he bought the house illegally. But then social security cut me off and he married me sooner so I could have insurance. He said it wasn’t my fault and that I didn’t make him marry me when he did. Yeah, well I still think deep down, maybe even in his subconscious, that he had a problem with when we got married and still does, but I’m sorry. He got married two weeks too early. Just two weeks. There’s a big difference between two weeks and 3 years (not the mention the times I’ve wanted a kid before we met). So, if this is what it’s all about - the marriage date, control, patience, evening things out, etc., then he doesn’t really want a kid as bad as he says. Of course, I’ve always known he never wanted sex as much as I did or a kid as bad as I did. He doesn’t want a kid an eighth as bad as I do. He says different people can handle things differently but still want the same things as bad as the other person does. True. He may handle his wants differently than me, but the point is that he’s a man. No man wants a kid nearly as bad as a woman does. He’s acting perfectly ordinary about the kid business and I don’t buy it when he tells me it’s not OK if we never have a child. It’s OK if we do and it’s OK if we don’t, but I still firmly believe he’s having me wait on him and getting a kick out of it. Regardless of our schedules or things that keep him busy or make him tired, if he wanted more sex and to cum more, he would and he could do so. When he gets more serious about the kid, as I get older and start running out of years, then he’ll make his move somehow, some way, whether or not it gets me pregnant. So, he may act typically about the baby thing, but he does not act typically about the sex and cumming thing. Not in the least and I don’t care how old or busy or tired he is.

I see right through his every move and motive and he can call me paranoid all he wants.

Anyway, regardless of how much more I want a child, mid to late 30s is fine for having a baby and I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait for my period! I’ve never wanted a period so bad, cuz my tits are a nightmare. I’m in pain just sitting still, whereas in the past, they’d usually only bother me at their sorest when I was walking fast, bouncing or running. This is ridiculous and kind of scary. How often is this gonna happen? And will it be even worse? Oh, God! That’s a really scary thought, cuz I don’t see how they can be any worse than this.

Later...

I just watched part 2 of a 3-part movie of Stephen King’s. It’s based on one of his books and he’s pretty good, too. A lot like John Saul. All these fucking baby commercials, though! I saw a whole new set of them. They’re really cranking them out! And they’re getting more and more graphic, too, showing pictures of the unborn child, showing the woman having it. Everything on TV is babies and pregnancy. Totally overkill!

Speaking of John Saul, Tom picked up his book Black Lightning which I just started. I’ll also be reading the remaining 4 books of his 6 book Blackstone Chronicles series, too, and he’s supposed to have a new book out this summer called The Presence.

My horoscope says that on Saturday, kids will be on my nerves. Gee, I wonder why?! Yeah, well I’ll take care of them.

Now here’s more proof that God does not love us all equally. Andy told me he prayed for God to take away his tooth pain, till he can afford to have more work done on it and he did. I just prayed for him to take away my tit pain till I get my period and what did he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Well, I always did say and know that God has a little more love to go around for Andy, than for me. Oh well. You can’t make someone love you or give you what you want.

It’s just like with Tom. He’s not ready for a child now. He’s not nearly as serious as I am about having sex more often, cumming more often and stepping up the action towards getting me pregnant and I can’t make him as ready as I am. In a few years, though, he’ll be readier and we’ll go to a fertility doctor, the doctor will impregnate me, and God will take it away.

Congrats to Tom! I didn’t think he had it in him and I didn’t think he could or would glare at anyone. Well, those couple of 6 or 7-year-old white boys came to visit last Sunday, yesterday and today. Today, I went out there and asked if they knew those people (at the house), and they said no, just as I figured. I said they shouldn’t play there and they left. But cuz kids of today aren’t taught to listen very well and they came back with another little friend of theirs just as Tom was getting in, he told me on the machine, and he glared at them and they left. Naturally, the rude kids had the nerve to come back for a little while for the third time, later on. Tom also said there was a little girl playing alone at one point, too.

Next time will be it, though, cuz I’ll scare them off for good and remind them that trespassing is illegal.

Got a message from Marla who mainly talked about two things, which were Shelly and older pregnancies. She said that yes, it’s common and very possible for older women to have babies, but that age can be our worst enemy and that the difference between 3 years can be like 300 for the baby-making percentage of the eggs. I don’t buy it. I think that’s mostly hype, cuz our society encourages young pregnancies. I think eggs are eggs and that due to the fact that a woman’s sexual peak is from around ages 35-43, I’d think that that’s when a woman’s more fertile. Even Tom agreed to this, and I told her that I’d be around the same age she was when she started her family at age 38.

I told her that my trustworthy, smart, responsible, logical husband will do what’s best for us when it’s best for us, and to please tell Linda that the reason why I haven’t called her (Andy said she still wants to talk to me), isn’t cuz I don’t give a shit or cuz I have anything against her, it’s just that she can’t tell me anything we don’t already know or that we can’t find out ourselves. Tom looked in his employee handbook yesterday and most fertility services are covered. We won’t have to pay all of the costs.

I told her about Shelly and how we met and she said the following about it:

I was absolutely appalled reading about the women whose foster home you were in. The part about moving you in the night and telling Shelly you had hung yourself is - reprehensible, to say the least, and most likely criminal. At any rate they should NOT be providing foster care. God Jodi, if you have these horrible life experiences you have done a tremendous job of turning out so normal despite them and I admire that. But PLEASE pull the information from your journals (if you were keeping them back then) or write it down from memory and send it to the authorities who administrate foster care so they will KNOW and ACT if they have to.

Jodi, perhaps you should write a book about your experiences in foster care. It could be chronological for those three years you mentioned, describing what you were going through emotionally and physically and the “caretakers” the state placed you with. It could encompass relationships you had with other “staties,” the people whose care you were in, your relationship with your family at that time. People need to know about this stuff, that it happens every day, that some people DO hang themselves because they are too fragile to survive it. At any rate it would probably be very cathartic for you and a reality check for the powers that be. It sounds like you walked a tightrope over hell. Write it so people can’t close their eyes and make it go away. Write it rugged and rough. Spare no details. Document the horrifics and sail with the surmountable. Start by making an outline of the period you want to write about, don’t worry about having it perfect, just get it down. When it’s all down, then you can re-write and get it the way you want it. Follow the Nike mantra and just do it! I’m really glad you found Shelly and she, too, is a survivor. Enjoy the communion!

Well, Marla’s not the first person to suggest I write a book, but again, it seems so overwhelming and the way it works is kind of confusing to me. How would I get this information out there? And where do I get it to? And what if someone tried to sue me for something I wrote about them, cuz I would want to use my real name, other’s real names and tell the truth. And I wouldn’t want my family to know about this, either. It’s easier to just let someone else speak out about the system that won’t change, anyway. They all protect their own, so complaining to the proper people, wouldn’t do any good.

She doesn’t know the eighth of my childhood ordeal, so when she mentions all those that DO hang themselves in the midst of all the hell they endure, I thought to myself, wait till I tell her I jumped out a window!

As figured, I keep remembering more about what Shelly and I talked about. Well, not only was I amazed at how much she remembered me, the house, and wanted to talk to me like I said, but she even remembered some of my clothes! She started to describe some white nightgown with flowers and some dresses, but I can’t remember one piece of clothing I had back then.

Tom and I talked some more about the fertility thing and I misunderstood him about a couple of things. It’s not the kind of invitro Linda had, that I would have. It’s a new technology that’s just getting ready to be more widely used and that’ll hopefully get cheaper soon enough, as well as more available. This technique is even better. When Andy said it took Linda 4 tries, that didn’t mean she had 4 miscarriages, which means that the egg didn’t get fertilized the first 4 times. Invitro wasn’t always guaranteed to take right away, cuz all they’d do is use something to make the egg release, then shoot sperm up there. With this new thing, they take the egg out and then directly fertilize it by injecting a sperm into it, so it’s a guaranteed pregnancy you got the first time around. Then all you have to do is hope to hell you don’t have a miscarriage. Anyway, this is what Tom was talking about us doing if need be.

Andy said it cost Linda 8 grand per pregnancy, but of course, she got her money back on the babies that didn’t get made. I think I’ve always heard that you only pay if they can make the kid and if the kid makes it into the world. If they can’t make the kid or if the kid’s miscarried, you don’t pay.

The other thing is, is that I thought we couldn’t go to a doctor till precisely January of 2001, but Tom said it’s best for us to be flexible and not decide on a date. I asked him if he’d like to be the one to decide on when we go and he said yes, just like I thought he would. I’m sure he would like to be the one to decide this, so he can make me wait for years. I told him, though, to try not to make me wait too many years, but he really does get off of me waiting on him, as well as instilling patience in me. Then he brought up the marriage saying he didn’t have me wait on that. Oh yes. The marriage. The marriage he would’ve preferred to wait a little longer on. I see. So now it’s his turn to make me wait on the baby, cuz I didn’t let him wait longer on the marriage. I’m not surprised.

I asked Tom if he’d go by when he felt it was time for the kid to make his decision on when we go to a doctor, or if he’d at all weigh into it my sheer desire to have this kid yesterday. He said neither cuz there are a lot of factors involved. He said we’ll go when he feels the time is best, for various reasons.

I’m very glad to know of this guaranteed procedure, but I know Tom’s gonna make me wait years before he’ll let us go to a doctor. And also, even if we went right now and they got a fertilized egg in me, would God let it stay there for 9 months? Will he let me have it vaginally? Will he let the kid be OK?

I know we’ll never get me pregnant ourselves, and even though this procedure sounds so promising, it seems too unreal and just too far-fetched to think that I’ll be pregnant and have a baby vaginally in 9 months. Something’s gotta go wrong, cuz that’d just be way too good to be true. There’s gotta be miscarriages in there, or a c-section, me being one of those rare cases they can’t impregnate, etc. You know how it is with me and God, the more common something is and the more I want it, the more I either can’t have it or have to work my ass off for it. It’s gonna be a long hard haul at ever getting a kid, that’s for damn sure.

Meanwhile, I’ve got years to wait for whatever’s gonna be the outcome of this thing, so I may as well enjoy my freedom, cuz I’m gonna have that for quite a while.

Again, just like last weekend, two little boys were playing ball next door. They played for about two hours and I swear, I’m gonna lock up that fucking hoop! We couldn’t see them both, but I think they were both white boys and I don’t think anyone was home. What did they do, just walk up to a stranger’s driveway and start playing ball? Well, it looks like they’re gonna do this every weekend if I don’t lock up that net. It’s basketball season and if they are associated with next door in any way, now’s the time they’re gonna be playing more often till it cools down again.

Later...

I talked to Andy who talked to his sister Linda. Linda really wants me to call her. I told him to tell her I appreciate her wanting to talk to me, but there’s nothing she can really tell me that I don’t already know.

It’s up to Tom. Plain and simple. When he’s ready for us to go to a doctor, we will, and that’s that. It’s not up to me.

Andy said he felt we were just procrastinating. I explained to him again how it wouldn’t do us any good to go to a doctor now with the way he cums so little. But if he keeps cumming so little or cums more often and I’m still not pregnant, then we’ll go see a doctor, and I trust Tom to know what’s best for us and when.

He said Linda said that these things get more expensive with time, not cheaper. Maybe so, but again, it’s up to Tom and I filled Andy in again on the situation for the 20th time since he’s got such a short-term, pothead of a memory.

No, I don’t fully agree with what Tom’s doing, but there’s nothing I can do to stop him. If he is truly controlling how much he cums and is planning to make me wait, then yes, that’s wrong. If this is the case and if he’s not as ready as I am and doesn’t want a kid as bad as I do, then yes, he should come out and say so, but I can’t force him to talk, to cum more often, or to go to a doctor sooner than he’ll allow us to go.

Yes, I do think he should put as much energy as he does into losing weight into having more sex and cumming more often, but again there are a lot of factors here. His mother’s slowing him down along with any progress we could make, he’s older, he’s not as horny and again, I don’t think he’s in much of a hurry to cum more and have that kid in the near future. Even he said it wouldn’t be a crisis if I had my period and that he’s not urgent about this month being no period. Well, I feel the opposite and I understand that it’s a woman thing and that guys don’t feel the same as women do about having kids. Women are always in a hurry for that. Guys take their sweet old time till the last minute and that’s just what he’s gonna do here. He’s gonna either cum more often when I approach the last handful of childbearing years and get me pregnant ourselves with no interference from God. Or he’s gonna do that with God making sure I’m not pregnant, or he won’t be cumming any more than he does now and again, God will be there making sure I’m not pregnant, then he’ll OK a trip to the doctor.

I don’t know how guaranteed this procedure is, and if it’s as sure to win as he says it is, but that’s beside the point right now. He’s waiting. Waiting patiently, all the while enjoying the agonizing wait he knows it’ll be for me. I just have to keep reminding myself that it’s gonna be a long time before we ever do have a kid if God will allow it and that he’s not ready to cum more often (if he can control that), and he’s not as ready as I am for the kid. When he catches up to me, has made me wait enough, and is ready to see a doctor, we will.

Meanwhile, it’s not for sure that we’ll be going to CA, but I guess we’ll be going. So, I talked to Andy and he’s gonna do me a little favor while we’re gone. He’s gonna lock the basketball hoop for me. He’s tall enough to reach it, and if we don’t go to CA, he’ll do it as soon as he can. So, I guess I’ll have another 3-4 weekends of listening to that obnoxious ball bouncing. I just hope to hell they don’t distract the visit with my folks and go playing for hours while they’re here. For the most part, though, we all will be out doing stuff and not just hanging out here at the house.

I realize I’ll be running out of room in this journal to say all I’ve got to say, so I’ll carry it over to the next one.

Now I’ve gone completely the other way around and am dying for my period to relieve my tits. Just when I thought they couldn’t hurt so bad, they’ve never hurt this bad before! I’ve also had some pretty fierce pre-cramps, too.

We’re gonna be bombing soon. When we do so, we’ll leave Bunny outside and take Piggy and Gizzy with us wherever we go. Speaking of Bunny, he’s like a cat, too, besides like a dog. He rubs his chin on my hand as well as objects like cats do.

Another thing I remember about when I was at Dotty’s, is that I only left that house twice in the month and a half to two months I was there. If I’m remembering correctly, I left once with Dotty and maybe Valerie, too, to go to McDonald’s and then that once with Shelly when she and I went to a nearby convenience store.

Anyway, Tom and I had a lovely talk last night and I’ll just get to the point of what he said before I talk around it and get into what my feelings and opinions about it are.

He said that my saying I’ll never have a child is a crock, cuz even if I were right and he was wrong and we couldn’t make a baby on our own, we go to a doctor, they take one of my eggs out, add sperm to it, then put it in my uterus. A loan will pay for it, too.

OK, if getting the procedure done and paying for it isn’t a problem, then God is. He’s our only real challenge and he’s the only one we’ll have to worry about. Again, if something’s so meant to be, it’ll be. If it’s not, it won’t be, and all God has to do is knock them out of me. If they keep implanting them in me, all God has to do is to keep getting rid of them and make sure I miscarried them. The more I want something and the more it’s something that’s common, the more he makes me fight tooth and nail for it, but more so, I just can’t get it. If he doesn’t knock them out one after the other, he could also know of our plan and make sure something goes wrong so I need a hysterectomy before we ever get to seek a doctor’s help.

I asked Tom if maybe God’s making sure they can’t read my PAPs, so he can start cancer brewing there and make sure it’s not discovered till it’s too late and I have to die a slow and painful death. He said no, cuz cancer takes years to grow and he reminded me that his dad’s cancer, which wasn’t discovered till about a year before he died, started forming 40 years ago.

Of course I wish Tom could be right about how sure he is that we’ll have no problems making a kid on our own. I mean, who wouldn’t want to do it the natural way? Besides, it’s only fair. I mean, you’ve got people that are loaded out there like Gloria is and she gets free babies, while a middle-class couple has to pay for one.

How fair, huh?

I know that God won’t ever allow us a child, either by ourselves or by a doctor. Let’s pretend he will let us, though. First of all, he won’t allow us to do so on our own and we will need a doctor. Secondly, we won’t be going to a doctor till I’m around 35, cuz that’s when this new technology, that’ll allow even 70-year-olds to conceive, will get cheaper and more affordable for us. It’s like with microwaves and VCRs. When they first came out, they were very expensive, but in time, they weren’t.

So again, let’s say God will allow us to have a kid. Here’s what we’ll have to go through to get that kid: First, I still think that yes, Tom wants a kid and would be very happy if I were pregnant now. However, no man could want a kid as bad as any woman could, I still think he’d rather wait till I’m between 35-40 and that he’d like to instill patience in me. So, say I’m now 35 and God will allow us this kid with a doctor’s help. It’ll take about 3 months for them to get about 3 unreadable PAPs. Then on month 4, they’ll probably have to do an exam with a microscope instead. Then there are 3 months of testing. Now remember, they can’t just do the in-vitro. It took Linda 4 tries, so it’d probably take me about 8. Let’s say it’ll take me 4 tries, though. That’s the least it could take. That’d mean that it’d take me a year to get the pregnancy that’ll keep till it’s time to be born. That’d also mean, that it’ll take me about two good years of fighting God before he let that doctor let Tom and I have the child we want. If he ever really did. I’ll be about 37.

Tom also told me that as long as a woman has all her parts, and as long as the parts work and aren’t damaged or misshapen, the vast majority of women can be impregnated by in-vitro and it’s very very uncommon that a woman can’t be helped who has regular periods and all her parts, etc. Well, I’m not the majority kind of girl, so all the more of a challenge it’ll be. How many people have one ear? How many people can sing, draw, sign, dance, act, etc.? How many women seeking other women are as feminine as I am? How many had to try for months before they could take the first very small dick in them? How many were with guys that could get hard, but not cum for so long? How many are this short? How many rock to music, have the power to communicate through photographs and have the kind of pitch I do? How many can’t get pregnant?

I know this is stupid, but I’m gonna go into this with the attitude that yes, I’ll have that baby. It’ll just be in about 5-6 years from now. Better later than never, though.

So, since I know Tom’s gonna be wrong, unfortunately, when he says we’ll get me pregnant on our own, this does mean sacrifices, but they’re well worth it. We could take a loan now and move. Or get his RK for his eyes, but we need to keep money available, as he said, for if we need help with the family. Well, since I know we’ll need it, we’ll be here for many many many years, but that’s OK. Whatever it’ll take. If we can’t have the doctor get around God, as I expect will really be the case, we’ll just take the money and move, I guess, but for now, I’m gonna be ridiculous and pretend that a doctor can fight God for us and win.

Back when he wasn’t cumming and we agreed to see a doctor this month, I never ever could picture us going to see a doctor. Well, it turned out that the reason I couldn’t envision it, of course, was cuz we didn’t need a doctor, cuz he came. My point is, is that I can’t see us ever going to a fertility specialist and I’d like to think that that’s a good sign, but I don’t know. I think it’ll be for the same reasons I thought I couldn’t see us going to a doctor for his lack of cumming - believing it couldn’t help us.

If Tom is controlling his amount of cumming, and he always could be, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t let himself start cumming more often until I was around 33 or 34. Right before we agreed to see someone.

Even though Tom doesn’t have the sexual appetite I do, etc., it’s his mother that’ll hold him back from cumming more often and slow down any progress we may make. As long as he needs to babysit our 74-year-old child, take care of her, and be run through the mill by her, he’ll continue to be tired most of the time and unable to cum more often.

Nonetheless, knowing about the technology that’s out there does give me a slight sliver of hope, but it’s not very fun knowing that if I do stand a chance, you’re talking several years from now. To me, to wait 6 years is like waiting 60 years. In reality, though, God’s gonna do one of two things. He’s either gonna make sure something goes so wrong that there’s no way I could conceive, or he’s gonna keep knocking out every kid a doctor implants in me. But for me of all people to get pregnant, stay that way till it’s time for it to be born and not need a C-section is absolutely ludicrous. It can’t happen. I just can’t see it. It’s impossible. Totally out of my cards and not meant to be.

And by the way, I knew those few days I didn’t hear those dogs was just a fluke, cuz I heard them loud and clear during the late afternoon and early evening.

Oh, I’m so pissed, frustrated and sad! I hate God! I really really do! As I knew they would, Dr. Bock’s office called. And God had to make sure that they called while I was in the tub and didn’t step out of the tub till it was 5:00 when they’d gone home. Then I said to myself, that’s fine. I’m not calling. I’m not gonna give God the satisfaction of bowing down to him and his using others to harass me. I’m not gonna keep running to GYNs while he’s up there laughing at how he’s running me ragged and killing me emotionally.

Like I said, there’s always a fucking price to pay for sex. I’m just totally cursed sexually, or my female parts are, and of course, I’m a no-good sinner for wanting a kid. I’m just so fucking sick of his controlling me and my body. I can’t go to GYNs, cuz they’ll never be able to read my PAP (I know this is what the call was about), and I’ll never have a child, DES or not, I can’t fight God and win, so fuck it! Just fuck it! I fucking give up. I’ll just live the rest of my life out just as it is, without moving on, just as God wants. Then maybe he’ll leave me the fuck alone.

And of course, I’ve got Tom telling me he understands. No man could ever understand. And he still keeps on telling me I’m going to have a child. Well, of course he’ll tell me that. He loves me. He’s supposed to tell me this. Just like with Kim. She’s my friend. She’s supposed to be positive and tell me the same thing. I could have a hysterectomy and they’d still be telling me the same thing.

The point is, is that I know Tom will never cum more often and that I’m sterile. I don’t care what he or anyone else says, I know the truth. I also know that there’s nothing I, Tom, or any doctor could do to fight God and change his fate for me. He’s got his mind made up and that’s that and I’m sick of dealing with this fucking shit! I don’t care anymore. I’ll just get the period I know I’m gonna get (the pre-cramps have started), and just deal with it and accept it.

Mary told me she’s OK with sterility. Emily, from MA told me the same thing, and I’m gonna be just like them. I refuse to live my life feeling like it’s incomplete and like there’s a void. I’m not gonna cry over this for the 30-50 years I’ve got left on this earth. God’s not gonna “sentence” me to a life of misery. I can’t win. I can’t have a child. But I refuse to let it beat me down anymore.

Whatever controlled me back east did follow me out here, but what am I gonna do, keep moving? I don’t think so. That won’t let God let me have a child and make my own choices in life and with my body. I love Arizona and this is always going to be my home. Maybe we’ll leave this house someday, but we’ll always be in Arizona unless I kill myself first. Or if God decided to take me much sooner. Sometimes I wish he would. My life is over here, anyway, I may as well move on and I can’t move on here in this life.

Sometimes I fantasize about plunging a knife straight through my uterus and ovaries. God would love that. Yes, he’d love for me to help control and destroy my female parts, just like he has.

Tom doesn’t understand and God doesn’t care. I understand but fuck caring anymore. There’s nothing to try for, to change, or to care about anymore. Just doing my time here on earth, living with what I do have, till my time comes to die, however I shall die.

I have to try my damnedest to put on a happy face for my folks if I don’t want any trouble, but I just realized something. Tom’s mom is really gonna drive them nuts. Or if she doesn’t, my folks aren’t gonna be too happy when they have to hear all about David and Evie’s kids and not much of anything else. If that’s not the bulk of what she’ll talk about, that’ll be at least half of what she talks about.

Later...

Shelly had said, “Wouldn’t it just blow our minds if we saw each other?” 

Oh yes! Oh, how I’d love to see her right now! But I never will. I’m still pretty certain I’ll never be back there and if so, I don’t know if we’d have the time to see her, but I would try to make the time. And I’m sure she’ll never come out here. She did say she lived in New Mexico for a while, as I forgot to mention.

Another ironic thing is that when I lived in Deerfield, she was living only 10 minutes away at the time and used to constantly go into Deerfield. We must’ve brushed arms several times and didn’t even know it. I really needed people like never before when I lived there out in nowhere land and it’s amazing how you could know someone for barely a month or so, then not see them for 15 years, yet love them dearly and wish you could see them and just run up to them and throw your arms around them.

Andy spent his last night here last night and we emailed Marla. I typed while he dictated.

Shelly and I must’ve been really destined to reconnect, cuz when I went to show Andy how I found her, there was no Shelly L listed. They had just updated their numbers, names and addresses. If I waited just one more week to look for her, forget it, cuz I’d never have any other way to know she was in the Northampton area, let alone her new last name. Just one more week, maybe even a little less, and there’d be no way I could ever find her for sure. It would’ve been more impossible than it had been until I did find her.

I saw the trailer over there yesterday but didn’t hear anything.

There’s something else I haven’t heard, which is totally weird and bizarre. I haven’t heard those dogs over there for 2-3 days now, but I’m not stupid. I know the pig didn’t talk to them. They didn’t decide all on their own that maybe it was annoying to their neighbors. No one shot them. They didn’t decide to keep them in the house all the time. They didn’t give the dogs away. The dogs didn’t drop dead on their own. Aliens didn’t abduct them. God didn’t get them off my case, etc.

Tom says he doubts Mike will ever be back, cuz of how long he’s been gone. Oh, he’ll be back. If they don’t get back together, he’ll be back sometimes. What I wonder, is when is she gonna get her new bass-blasting piece of scum of a boyfriend? Well, when she does, I’ll be right there to take care of it, as much as the new beau won’t give a shit, either. In fact, she’ll probably tell him to make sure he basses in and out on account of me.

I know there are other little tidbits of stuff I wanted to mention, but can’t seem to think of them right now. It’s not always easy to relax my mind and organize my thoughts. Not when I get so upset and furious.

I did get a Bob letter today. Nothing new, of course.

I hope Shelly’s already got stuff on its way in the mail to me. I don’t know for sure if she really will mail anything, but I hope she does. That’d mean so much to me and pictures of her would be great. She mentioned sending pictures and looking through her photo album to see what she’s got from that time (1982).

I told Marla about Shelly and about what Tom and I discussed earlier, but I’m too tired to get into it now.

I filled Tom in on my chat with Shelly. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was either on Aerobid again or a manic depressant, since I've gone from being psyched about my talk with Shelly to being depressed over never being able to have a kid, and back and forth.

I saw the true story of a paralyzed woman who walked in a marathon. If a paralyzed woman can walk in a marathon, why can't I have a kid? Huh? Which one's more normal and common? Being paralyzed and walking in a marathon, or having a baby?

Of course, Tom told me again that he knows I don't believe it, but I'm going to have a baby. Of course I don't believe it, cuz my husband is wrong. But he is my husband. Therefore, of course he's gonna tell me that, whether he believes it or not. He'll always tell me that. Even when I'm old and gray.

Andy will be over in about an hour.

Andy’s here now. He got here just after midnight and checked out Stevie stuff on the computer till he went to bed, which was at 2:45. I don’t think he’ll be up as early as 8:30 like he said. He knows he’ll be up before me, though, and to be quiet.

For the last two nights, I went to bed at around 5 AM and woke up at 9 AM wheezing. Then I’d go back to bed till 2 PM. So, I’m hoping that I don’t have to go through this for the third time.

Andy brought me a couple more coffee coupons, which is always nice.

Not much else is going on here, but besides being bummed knowing I’ll get my period in about 9-10 days, and being nervous and excited about my parents visiting, I’m really having mixed emotions about his mother. At the same time, I love that woman dearly, she’s helped us out, we don’t want to turn our backs on her, she’s running Tom ragged. He spends half his time taking care of her and even Tom said he agreed she was silly to keep the house. I want to shake her and tell her, “Please keep this a secret, but give Tom some slack. You’re gonna kill him. He needs his sleep, we need more time together, we need to do work around our house, and if we stand the slightest chance of making a baby, we need him home and awake more often.” But I can’t do this. Not yet anyway.

Tom brought up a good idea, but if it’ll work is questionable. He said he’s gonna get an appointment book and schedule his jobs for her and us, to free up more time. He said he is going to have a talk with her and tell her that he’s gonna have to schedule the projects he does for her. I just hope that she’ll get the message and that Tom can stick to this plan and that it’ll work. Again, there’s nothing like having family to help you when you’re old, but I wish she’d meant it when she said she didn’t want to burden family members and I wish she’d get into an apt. That way she can call the landlord to fix her stuff. Not bother Tom. My biggest question is how long will this go on? Will she need Tom to take care of her for 5 more years? Or even 10 more years?

If God isn’t as cruel and as unfair as I thought he was, does plan to let us have a child, is he just waiting for his mother to die? And again, when she does go, will I be 40? How the hell’s Tom gonna juggle a family and his mother? If God does have a change of heart, she’s gonna have to understand that we can’t take her on, too, unless she moves in with us. Or she’ll have to get an apartment or hire a handyman if she stays at the house.

Like I said, we are a family of 3. Only difference is our child lives in its own house. I know this is so mean, spoiled and selfish of me, but sometimes I wish she’d get that disabled where she did have to dump the house and go to a home or something. But if that were to happen, God will just sic someone or something else on us to tie up half of his time and it won’t be our own kid. With a kid, he’d still work, of course, and I’d be home all the time, I’d hope, so it’d take up most of his time and all of mine, but that’s different and that’s OK. I just wish we could live more for us. Most things are what we can do for others. Well, I wish most things could be for us, for a change, then for others. I want us to live our lives and have our dreams, not cater to other people’s needs so much of the time. It’s not fair that we should be taking care of her half the time. We should be taking care of our child and each other full-time, then deal with her. With a child, Tom would get even less sleep and I wouldn’t get shit for sleep, but a child may be the only way to get her to back off and stop being so silly and come to her senses.

Later...

I don’t believe it! I mean, I absolutely don’t believe it! It all started when I was out de-dutying the patio. Tom came out and said he didn’t answer the phone, but there was a number on the caller ID box that had a 413 area code. I knew that was MA. Then he went and read me the rest of the number, but it didn’t recognize it. So, I thought it could be Minnie or that Paula got a phone and called. Then for one fleeting moment, I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be funny if that letter really got to the right Shelly and it was her calling? So I ran in to listen to the message and it was her!!

So I called the number she left, and as much as I hate the phone nowadays, we talked for about an hour or more.

Unlike Paula, she’s really doing well for herself. She talks very well and is well off financially, with a husband and two sons. She lives in Florence, just outside of Northampton in a 3-bedroom, 2-story house. Her mom lives with them. She says she feels very content and pretty much has all she wants.

She said that a few days before getting my letter, which was forwarded to her new place (she just got married and is now Shelly N), she was telling someone how sick she is of just getting bills and that she needs a pen pal. Then she received my letter.

She said she thought it was a joke for a minute when she got my letter, cuz she thought I was dead. Those psychos, Dotty and Valerie, told her I’d hung myself when they surprisingly took me to Valleyhead. Yeah, that’s something they would do. They took me and only a very few of my belongings. They kept most of my belongings, including a guinea pig that I’d had there. I never knew what became of the pig, but it turns out that Shelly took it and had it for a couple of years. That was nice to hear that she did that.

We were both just so shocked to be talking to one another. I told her I had searched for her on and off for a good 10 years or so but didn’t know to look in the Northampton area. She and her family weren’t in Springfield for very long. I told her how I ended up finding her, which she was curious to know.

I didn’t know what I was in for. I mean, I didn’t know if she was gonna be ditzy, shy, quiet, not very nice or willing to talk to me, or what, but she was as psyched as I was to talk, as talkative as I am, and she’s really doing well for herself. She said she too, went through many tough times and was filled with rage and confusion for a while.

She said her kids helped her and that when she breastfed her first kid, it was the most calming thing for her and that she’d filled her missing link in life. Unlike most abused kids, she seems to be doing pretty well as a mother and not sorry she had kids. She has a 10-year-old boy and a 3-year-old boy and is trying for a girl. I then told her that that was my missing link and that my husband and I wanted a child. I told her we’d like to move and do things, but if having a kid meant giving that up, that’d be fine. I told her how Tom and I thought the responsibility may be good for me and that I have the romantic notion of having and sharing a child with the man I love so much, but that that’s not meant to be. She told me that she had a 36-year-old friend who only got a period once every 7 years, who was told by the doctors that she couldn’t have a kid, but then did have one. Yeah, but that’s a very extraordinary case, and when something extraordinary happens to me, it’s not usually in a good kind of way. So when she got into her complete, happy family, I was a bit envious. I have a happy family, but not a complete one, and I reminded myself of that period I’m going to get in about 9 days.

The most shocking thing of it all was how much more she remembered about the foster home than I did, and how well she remembered me. She remembered so much about me.

She remembered just what I looked like back then, the guitar playing, the singing, Charlie’s Angels pictures all over my walls and so much more. She remembered more than I could. She’s still 5’ 9”, but is about 180 pounds with brown hair and eyes. I thought she had dark blond hair and blue eyes, but not according to her.

She remembered me to be fragile, soft, shy, scared, depressed, yet very sweet and pretty. She said she loved my hair and used to brush and braid it a lot, which I sort of remember (it was dyed jet-black back then). She said she never forgot me and how she used to protect me. She said she couldn’t and didn’t try to look me up, though, cuz she couldn’t remember my last name and of course, those assholes told her I was dead.

She said that the only reason why she didn’t leave that place the day she arrived there was so she could look out for me, but as soon as she was told I was dead, she ran.

She said she told many people over the years about me and that one time, she was in some museum when she saw a picture of a female playing the guitar. She said it only showed the guitar and up to the chest of the woman, but that it reminded her of me, with the long hair, etc. She said my guitar playing and singing used to really calm her and soothe her nerves, but I don’t remember doing much singing or guitar playing there in that fucking place.

Both Valerie and Dotty bullied me, but Dotty was afraid of Shelly and Valerie wouldn’t mess with Shelly, cuz she respected Shelly for being as tough as she was.

So, before I get into our memories of this rotten place, this is what Shelly told me she’s been up to - she ran from that house. Then she was doing some work at the Air Force base in W. Springfield for a while, as an adult, and was here, there, and everywhere for a while. She wasn’t a slut or a hard-core druggie, but she drank and did weed and partied a lot. She wasn’t in Springfield for very long and she had spent time out in Boston. She also did topless dancing, too.

The first guy she was with was a great guy, she said, but he was a helicopter instructor and he died. She had her first kid with him.

Anyway, most of her family has always lived in the Northampton area and as I figured she would be, she’s very blunt and open-minded, too. She’s never really been with a woman, but I think she’s kind of experimented all the while having her heart set on a guy. She has gay friends and I told her my best friend was gay.

There weren’t too many things about her that I didn’t expect. Not too much was different about her and her life, either, except that she’s got kids. Everyone else has kids but me, so what else is new?

I told her how great Tom was and how he’s such an optimist, while I’m a pessimist. I told her that Tom believes something will work out, until and if he sees that it doesn’t and that I don’t believe something will work out, until and if I see that it does. She said she understands cuz she’s a pessimist too, and says we have to be after all the shit we’ve gone through. You live what you learn, she says, and said that yes, she’s a good mom, but has made mistakes and tries really hard not to be like her father was. I didn’t tell her I feared being like my mother was.

She says she now gets along with her dad well, loves him to death, but that he was a classic typical male. A violent drinker. Her mother was described as my dad usually is. Calm, quiet and passive.

So, her parents got divorced and she didn’t take well to her new stepmother, so she rebelled. That’s when she was put in the house and also, someone reported her father’s physical abuse. She’d skip school and says that due to that, she can’t write too well, but that she’d try and would send out pictures of her and her family. I told her that after I got that, I’d send some to her with a letter and she told me to write and call all I want. I told her to write and call all she wants, too.

I think I’m gonna take a break from writing about my talk with Shelly till later. I was gonna record a movie that’s about to come on, but I think I’ll just watch it live and deal with the fucking baby commercials.

That reminds me - Kim, who has it in her mind that she can only have a kid if she’s married, feels the same way I do. It also breaks her heart to see shitloads of pregnant teens all over the place. I told her that not only can I relate to that, but every other fucking commercial is about home pregnancy tests, messages about child abuse, and just always baby and kid-related. It’s a constant reminder that’s rubbed in my face, of how unfair and cruel God is, and about the child I can never have.

Then after she was mentioning her female problems, Kim said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if you were the one who could have kids and I couldn’t?” 

Well, I can’t and I don’t think she’ll be "allowed" to, either. She’s not a kid or unfit for that, but if one of us ever does conceive, it won’t be me.

Later...

I decided I’d tape the rest of the movie. That way I can zap through the commercials. There were only 3 baby commercials in the last 45 minutes, so that’s actually pretty low.

Before I get back into Shelly, I’m kind of crying right now. Yes, it’s all about how I’m going to get my period and how life isn’t fair and how I just want a baby. I just want a baby! But God won’t change his mind and his unfair ways. He doesn’t care about me or what Tom and I want. When I first felt like crying, I told myself that maybe a good cry would help. That way, I won’t cry so hard when my period comes, if I start letting it out little by little. By that time, the tears just came flowing, without caring if I was giving God the reaction he wants. Without caring if he was laughing down at me.

I’ve gone back to my old coffee. This is cuz my lungs weren’t doing too good without caffeine and also, cuz my tits are still sore, anyway. It’s really weird, but they are.

Gizzy’s using his new tubes occasionally so that new addition hasn’t gone to waste.

Now back to Shelly. She said something about setting up the kid’s computer and possibly getting AOL. We’ll see.

There were a few things about that house that I didn’t remember, but she did. She said that she wasn’t Dotty’s foster child. She was the reverend’s (I forgot he was a reverend) foster child. He was Dotty’s brother and he lived on the second floor of this 3-story house. I know all the houses in that area were old triple-decker houses and that there was a Spanish lady with a young boy and girl on the third floor. According to Shelly, though, she hung out downstairs while her brother (Dotty’s) was gone during the daytime, but that’s where we’d hide out and sleep and there was no third floor. She doesn’t remember the Spanish lady and her kids. She said in the early mornings, she and I would go to her room on the second floor. Did we? I thought Shelly slept out in the living room on the first floor, and Dotty and I were in the two bedrooms on that floor. Then, early in the mornings, we’d go up to the third floor and sleep in the Spanish lady’s bed till around noon. Right after she went to work and her kids went to school.

Meanwhile, Valerie, who was black, was at the house on and off. Dotty, who was part black, part Hispanic, was always there. Shelly mentioned something about a lot of people going in and out of there (maybe friends of Dotty’s?), but I don’t remember a lot of people. Shelly also said that right before I left, there was another girl there named Shawn, who wasn’t there very long. I don’t remember this, either.

She also remembered too, that there was hardly ever any food in that kitchen there and that she called her dad who brought us a couple of boxes of food. This I don’t remember, but she said we were really pigging out on this food (this was when I was 85 pounds).

I also don’t remember her throwing rice at Valerie (something I’d never dare do, cuz I’d get killed for it, but that’s something Shelly could get away with), then refusing to pick it up, then me sweeping it up. She said she felt bad for that; me sweeping up her mess, so she got me some candy for it, cuz she had some of her own money.

Speaking of money, with Anne and Harry, I got and spent my allowance, but Dotty never let me have my allowance.

Something I’d forgotten about till she mentioned it was how her father, or someone, brought her white rabbits. I don’t think they stayed there too long, though.

As I remember more about Shelly, like she said I probably would, I’ll write it in. For now, though, I’m gonna go listen to music.

Tom's gonna be really tired when he gets home, but will go to bed, then we can have some time together tomorrow night. His mother continues to run him ragged. I mean, she's halfway as needy as a child, with things always breaking. And you can't just simply replace what's broken most of the time, cuz that house is so old, that you can't always find old parts that it needs. Yet she still stubbornly clings to that house and has others, mainly Tom, take care of it.

Still, we love the dear old lady and she gave Tom quite a treat to take home to me today. She gave me about 22 books, but there are only about 10 of them I'll like. I just started one too, and this is great timing, cuz I've been wanting something to read and I have no idea when we can go to the library again.

I just sent my folks what will be their last letter till they get here.

I called Larry too, who said it was a bad day. He sounded awful.

Then I called Tammy and she said that the reason why mom and dad hadn’t called much was cuz when they did, Larry didn’t seem to want to talk. So they decided to back off and let Larry do the calling. Tammy’s gonna tell Mom and Dad to casually tell Larry, without bringing us up, why they chose to let him call, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea and feel like they don’t care or don’t want to deal with it. That’s what I thought was the case, too, until Tammy explained this to me.

Anyway, Tom was originally gonna just bring Mom to church, but now he has to fix her lock that broke, so who knows when he’ll get home.

I haven’t seen Gizzy go up to the new tubes yet on his own, but if he doesn’t, maybe he’ll like it better if we move the tubes elsewhere. We’ll see. He’s been on his wheel forever. All last night and today he’s just been wheeling away.

I’m still doing OK, but am bummed at the thought of having to be forced into my period. I’m trying not to think about it till I get the period and have to deal with reality then. It’s hard, though. It really is. We just wanted a baby and we can’t even have that. Meanwhile, God couldn’t care less and he’ll just go on allowing one unfit person and teenager after another to have all the kids they want.

Later...

Oh, fuck! They’re in season next door for their ballgames and parties. I heard some kid, or kids, playing ball over there and now I wonder, what kind of party are they gonna have tonight? The hotter it is outside, the more these people love to be outdoors and it’s basketball season and they’re black. Blacks and basketball go hand in hand, so now I’m sure I’ll be hit with a monthly party from over there once or twice a month till around October.

Later...

They didn’t play for very long and there are no cars over there, so that’s OK. As long as it’s not constant, ball-playing will be OK every now and then, cuz in the back with the fan on, I can’t hear it. Also, it can’t wake me up. So hopefully, if Mike stays out of the picture, maybe there won’t be parties and if there are, they’ll omit the bass. It’s the bass that I don’t want to hear. An occasional ballgame and loud-mouthed talking won’t kill me.

When I talked to Tammy about Larry, she said Larry needs to get on with his life, cuz that’s what his son would’ve wanted. Yes, his son would want that and he is getting on with his life and will continue to, but I don’t think that’s right of Tammy to say he needs to get on with his life. Everyone’s different and everyone goes at their own individual pace. Also, like Tom said, the first year is often the hardest, cuz you have to go through the first set of holidays without the loved one you lost, their birthday, etc.

Before I get to the great news, and yes, yesterday turned out to be a far cry better, that wasn’t Mike across the street. He said the house is in escrow, but that the guy that lives there is black. He said there was a black guy and a blond girl over there. So, that’s two rap-blasting blacks in Jeeps we’ve had?

OK, now for my good news. I did the right thing, so I thought, by taking the note down. Then after Tom got up, we got to talking. Again, he said it was his fault for breaking the promise, he’s sorry that he overestimated himself, etc. Then I ended up showing him the note and he said, “OK, let’s go screw.” I was like, what? You can do that? We can do that? Well, we did do that and he got inside right away with no problem and he came, too!

Talk about someone picking me up and pulling me instantly out of the rotten mood I was in! Now I really realize that he was sincere about breaking the promise. He didn’t mean to and I should’ve known this all along. Well, he’s right when he says I’m negative and always assuming people are lying to me or manipulating me. This may have been a major breakthrough to breaking me of my defensiveness and negativity, though, thanks to him. Together, we fought back and won. What I mean by that is, yes, I believe that there’s something that’s been trying to block us from succeeding. I still don’t know if it really is God, the devil, a spirit, etc., but then I began to wonder. Could Tom have been sent not only for us to love each other, but to help me fight this thing off?

You know how it can sometimes take years to figure out the reasoning behind certain events, well, I thought of a possibility. In my mind, and I don’t care what anyone else says or who calls me crazy, but something cursed me and really had it in for me good back east. I left it behind when I came out here. Then I began to suspect it found/followed me here at the time Scott fucked me over. I know everyone has bad times, no matter where they are, but old and familiar patterns were reoccurring. I was starting to slowly spiral downhill, after Scott’s shit and then those kids that lived next to me in the second apartment I had on Bell Rd. were really beginning to drive me nuts with their music, company, door slamming, etc.

Then I met Tom. Tom agreed that some people are more sensitive to both psychic experiences and being controlled and/or influenced by God or the supernatural of whatever kind. What I realized was this - I’m afraid of this shit and easily intimidated, controlled and influenced by it. Tom’s not. So, maybe something good up there connected us also so that he could help me fight them off together. Who knows for sure? It’s just a theory, but I guess fate is still gonna be fate whether or not we’re together. There’s only so much we can do together for each other or us both when it comes to higher powers.

So, after he came, I wondered if we were destined to have that awful night on the 17th, to stop him from cumming, cuz it knew that was my conception time. Or, if it knew last night was my time and it had us have the fight to stall us till it was the right time, figuring he couldn’t get off two days in a row (not that I could ever believe “it” would change its mind about allowing us a child). This is when I still thought I was 13 days after my period. Then when I looked at a calendar, I realized it was 14 days after my period, and I realized that yes, the fight was to prevent a baby. It was too late last night to make a baby. I’m usually on a 26-28-day cycle. More so, it’s usually a 27-28-day cycle, so if the right time is right before the egg pops out, that egg would’ve had to have said hello 24-48 hours before he got off late last night. So, if I’m OK, and if God or something isn’t really in our way, there’s no way we could’ve gotten me pregnant last night, but at least we had fun and at least Tom did wonders for my mood. It was instantly that he brought me from feeling sad, angry, frustrated, hopeless to happy, content, etc. We fought back and won and did what we wanted to do and nothing stopped us. It wasn’t easy for me to fight back. Not since every time I do rise and put up my fists, I get slapped back down into place, but I did it. We did it together.

Whatever it is that’s had a hold on us (I say us, even though it’s me, cuz we’re an “us” here), did try to stop him from cumming. Besides the fact that it was a wee bit too warm, he almost didn’t get off. Every time he seemed to struggle with going over the edge, was when I could sense its presence. But I kept saying these 2 words over and over again in my head; fight and win, fight and win. That backed it off, so we could do what we wanted to do and had set out to do.

Later...

I’m washing sheets today, but anyway, I got a message from Kim. Tom’s taking a day off from all his hard work and is at the racetrack, so when he gets back, I’ll have to ask him what the caller ID box said when she called. She called at 8 AM our time and I went to bed at 2 AM. But he didn’t leave till probably around 10 AM.

Anyway, I expect and understand that getting my period will be hard, so for the next two 2 weeks, I’ll have to keep reminding myself that I knew better. That I knew we were too late and I knew I’d get my period.

Amazingly, I woke up at 106 pounds today, but I’ve had coffee and an apple. I’m sure I’m now 108 pounds as usual.

Later...

Got a letter from Kim. She threw in some Spanish here and there and I understood every word very well. She’s now dating a dentist. I hope it works out for her.

I’m washing sheets today.

Later...

Kim just called and she kept me on the phone for a damn hour. Still, it was nice talking to her. She’s having her ups and downs. More female problems, but is happy with Walter, the dentist she’s seeing that’s 20 years older than her. She said she gets a kick out of how people ask, “Which way?” when she tells them there’s a 20-year age difference. She says she tells them, “Well, he’s not 7 years old.”

Now this is weird. I offed the caffeine, yet my tits are a bit sore. Oh well. At least they shouldn’t be nearly as sore as they were, but as we get closer to my period, we’ll see. I still feel so much better, even though I’m gonna be ragging in two weeks, but I feel bad about accusing Tom of botching up the promise for the 17th. It wasn’t him. It was definitely God or whatever the hell is so determined to hex us sexually and keep us from being parents. If we had done it on the 17th and if he had gotten off, I’d probably have conceived if all’s OK with me, so it made sure we had that fight to stop us.

Tom, who had been up since 10:30 last night, went to bed a couple of hours ago, but before that, he was sweet enough to say, “You said that you thought it was too late when we did it yesterday, but I can try today if you want.” I told him no, it’s OK, he can get to sleep and we’ll just have fun as soon as we can.

At least he was nice enough to remember it and ask me what I felt was best. It’s so amazing how last night, he just took me by the hand, pulled me up, and made me feel so much better. I guess we were both hurt. I was hurt cuz of God and what I thought Tom was doing. And Tom was hurt cuz of how I thought he hurt me deliberately and cuz he overestimated himself. Yes, you could say we’re opposites on that. I tend to underestimate myself, while he tends to overestimate himself.

Tom didn’t win anything at the racetrack today, but he had a lot of fun and he brought me home an awesome present! Well, actually it’s for Gizzy, but it’s fun for me, too. Normally, it costs $13 - $19 for a set of 4 curved tubes. And about $5 for a T-tube or a straight tube. Well, at the grocery store, he got a straight tube for $3 and a set of 4 curved tubes for $5. This is a great deal!

So let me describe what I did. Well, as you know, the base of his living quarters is in the aquarium. There, he has his water bottle, his wheel, and his trap lying on its side with the door open, which he never uses to burrow in. There are tubes leading up from there, just past the top of the aquarium, on top of Piggy’s old burrow, to Mary’s cage. There are two holes on both sides of Mary’s cage for tubes. The other one had that wheel that Gizzy couldn’t use, so that’s where I put the new tubes. They’re kind of in the shape of a backward S, but the top part of the S is straight cuz that’s where the straight piece is. So, now he really has multiple levels and from the very bottom of his living area to the very top of it, is about 4 feet long.

The only time he was up in the new highest level, is when I put him up there and I haven’t seen him use it yet on his own. I hope he does, though, but I don’t know, if he’s not asleep, he’s so obsessed with that wheel. He sometimes sits in the middle of the tube, though (the tube that Mary gave me), but maybe he’ll sit up top. We’ll see.

So, Gizzy’s got 1 T-tube, 1 straight tube, and 8 curved tubes. Both cages are clear glass and clear plastic, but out of all his tubes and connectors, the colors he has are red, yellow, orange, purple, green and pink.

It was pretty funny when I noted to Tom how Gizzy made a duty up in his new tubes, then Tom said, “Yeah. That’s cuz you scared the shit out of him.” Yes, us snapping on the new parts did freak him out for a while.

Now, I’m gonna go do the dishes, make some popcorn, then check out a movie.