I guess I’ll do some writing now. Let’s see…Mary and Dave came over to get Tom’s bed. I was asleep while they were here, but Tom showed them the animals. I’m glad that they finally got to see them and the way things are now set up. Especially Mary.

Ma gave us one of her recliners and this thing isn’t just a recliner. It’s a massage recliner. The seat and the back vibrate. It’s really nice and we needed it, too, cuz the recliner that goes with this couch has really fallen apart. It’s out on the patio till it’s time for the city to pick it up (we’ll have to look on the calendar to see when that is) and the cats are using it for now at night.

Speaking of cats, we discussed getting a trap to trap Mama Cat and then bringing her to wherever. That way we won’t have to deal with so many litters and I won’t miss this wild, mean bitch of a cat.

That we know of, they still haven’t been a problem as far as loud music is concerned but I heard other sounds at 11:30. It was the sound of plastic and metal scraping along their back patio. Something big and plastic, too, but the metal might’ve been the dog’s chain. I got the impression that whoever it was, was pissed and hoping to wake someone up over here, but who knows? I also still have my doubts as to the city contacting them. I think that as soon as they got the letter, it went into the garbage.

I changed the mice’s setup around again a while ago and what a cute show Tom missed! The babies were all bouncy, hyper and playful. It was so cute and as for the adults, Ziggy’s a playful one, too, and jumps around when she’s happy like Bunny and Spunky do. Unfortunately, I’m not as happy as my animals are. I haven’t full-flowed yet, but have upgraded to spots and a bit more cramping. The thing about it is the reality of knowing that there’s no way I could be pregnant and that I will have a full flow within the next 24-48 hours. God, why must you torture, control and deprive me of following my dream and my every instinct!? When it comes to something more than just hobbies, pets and marriage, can we ever agree on what I want? Like I said, if I woke up wanting to do anything else just as bad, God would see to it that I couldn’t do it.

This really, really is gonna be how the rest of my life is gonna be. This really is gonna be an issue all my life and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. My husband will always stall and make excuses for why we should wait to see a doctor. There’s always one more thing we’ve got to give a chance. One more thing that’s just got to be the answer. Well, this is bullshit and I’m sick of it. And he’s not the only one afraid of a doctor. We’re just afraid for different reasons. He doesn’t want to go to a doctor cuz he doesn’t really want a kid or to discuss our sexual relations with strangers. I’m afraid of what God would do to me for going against him and I’m also virtually certain that there’s nothing they could do for us. First of all, they couldn’t make Tom cum regularly. Secondly, if they could make me pregnant by some procedure, how can they make me stay that way for 9 months?

I feel totally alone here. I feel as if Tom just doesn’t want to deal with it and never has and never will. All he does is tell me year after year that things will work out and where are we now? Just where we’ve always been. The only change is that he’s cum occasionally for the last year and a half, and we share a bed. That’s better than nothing, but it’s not enough. And I still say that he could cum every day, but - something’s wrong with me. Even though he hasn’t cum but maybe 15 times, those 15 shots and all the years of precum should’ve done the trick by now. Nobody could miss it like this if they tried.

When they begin fertility testing on a woman, they usually start by sticking a dye up there. I don’t know what this dye is supposed to test, but usually, that’s all you need. If I heard right, the most common cause of infertility in women is clogged fallopian tubes. I’m not stupid, though, and I know my problem goes way beyond just clogged fallopian tubes. God will do anything and everything to ensure I never have a child.

Even if it does get easier with time, it’s still hard enough and it eases up so gradually. I feel like it’ll take 10 years to pass by before I can really live with it without it getting me down once every month or two like it does.

Tom just got up, so I feel a bit better. He reminded me that the primary reason for us switching insurance, as well as getting the bed, was so that we could do something if we need to, but meanwhile, let’s just have fun throughout December. It sounds good, but I’ve heard things like this before.

Just when I think my periods are out of new tricks to pull, they pull new ones. The night before last, I had faint, light, microscopic beginnings of a period. The kind that is even smaller and less apparent than spots. They’re more like a milky reddish-pink color and you really have to strain your eyes to see any of these kinds of spots. Well, never has my period tried to begin, then had 48 hours go by without a full flow by then. I had had cramps, too, but even those have eased up. My boob soreness has eased up a bit, but not much. I wish I could say it was a baby and that God never did intend to deny us a child and that he was just waiting for the right time and that the sudden ability to quit smoking and the new bed really was a stage set for a baby after all, but dreams are just that - dreams.

Speaking of the bed, though, I had been all bummed out and frustrated, feeling like we made a mistake and that it could never work out. Tom said that it’ll take time, but that I’ll adjust to sleeping in it together and I guess he was right on that one. He got into bed with me already asleep in it and didn’t wake me up!

Thank you, freeloader. I was just about to forget to update him, but he just reminded me to with a good, deliberate, hard slam of his car door. As far as we know, there hasn’t been any music, but again, is this cuz of the dog? Cuz of some other reason? Cuz of the city letter? I highly doubt the city contacted them and I still don’t think they ever will. Either way, though, the music will be a problem again, as always, in just a matter of time. That’s when I’ll make my final move and never have to worry about it again and it’ll never be a problem again.

Andy went out of his way to make an extra trip over here, which was nice. I had thought we wouldn’t exchange stuff till we saw each other again. However, he dropped off some coffee coupons and some clothes Laura didn’t want and put them out back while I was asleep. The clothes were mostly tank tops and halters and I like just about all 10 pieces or so, except for a couple of sweaters.

I was pleasantly wrong when I said it’d be a not-too-peaceful day. It’s been quite peaceful and I slept just fine. The freeloaders actually went elsewhere for Turkey Day. I heard them come in at 10:30 PM (no music). I’m just glad Thanksgiving isn’t in the summer, cuz then they probably would party hearty. I used to like the summers best of all cuz it’d drive everyone indoors but not these freeloaders. They’re out and about more when it’s hot and their dog will bark more, too, when the summer nights return.

Tom set up the satellite dish and I really like this Direct TV a lot. It’s really cool and you set up things on a screen that’s a lot like a computer. It is simpler for the most part, but there are so many different things you can do and so many different ways to do them. My favorite part of it is the '70s and '80s commercial-free radio stations. On-screen it says the title/artist, but I run audio tapes on his stereo that’s hooked up to it and record stuff. Then I screen them and pick out anything I may want.

I asked Tom, “So, is this gonna be my last period for about a year?”

He said, “That’s what I th-yes.”

Well, that sounds awfully unsure and suspicious. I know he’s full of shit, but anyway, my period hasn’t shown up for real, if you know what I mean, but I’m sure it’ll be more than a faint spot or two when I next wake up.

Had another weak/spoiled spell a little while ago, but as with cigarette cravings, baby cravings pass, too, if you tough them out. Like my mother has to believe the DES saved my life for her mental peace of mind, I have to believe I don’t deserve a child. In a way, this is true, though. I’m blessed with enough things so what’s to say I really do deserve one? I also have to believe that God does know best and is doing what’s right and that he’s not just punishing me. I have to believe he’s just looking out for me and doing what would be in the best interest of any child we could’ve ever had. So when it gets tough, I just tell myself that I’m not worthy of it, nor could I have ever handled it.

Speaking of babies (all mice deserve babies over a few of us humans, huh?), one of Ziggy’s babies wandered out of the burrow. I picked it up for a while and am calling it Spot since its tail has a few faint spots on it.

I guess Teddy Bear’s getting old. He came down earlier, but he wheels less and less and spends the bulk of his time sleeping his life away up in his high-rise.

Later...

See? The desire to have a child is getting less and less and not lasting as long when they do come. I feel much better. I just reminded myself of what my life would be like with a child and what a shitty mother I’d be, and now I feel better. It’s been the longest time since I’ve shed tears over it. Just when it seemed like it would never get easier to deal with and stay that way, it finally is. Meaning, since knowing Tom, I’d say that fall of this year, was when it started getting noticeably easier. It’ll keep getting easier with each year, too. I still intend to be strong and be totally over it someday, too. Lastly, I must really, really love my husband. I already forgive him for the pregnant-in-December-for-sure lie.

I told Tom about yesterday morning’s barking fit and how the dog ran down the end of the driveway, but he doesn’t think the leash is extended that far. He thinks that the only reason I saw the dog was cuz it got loose and that it can’t reach our house. Well, maybe they do keep it in the yard at night after all, cuz the freeloader didn’t park his car deep into the carport tonight. I peeked out and saw its tail end sticking out of the carport and if there was a dog leashed to it, I didn’t see it.

Later...

I’m kind of bummed out right now. You could say it’s part PMS, part life.

God seems to want me to only sleep straight through for a few days at a time, then I gotta get woken up. Just 3 hours into my sleep, Tom accidentally woke me up as he was setting up the satellite for Direct TV. His end of it was an accident, but how much God-influence was there? After a while and two Benadryl’s, I fell back asleep. He woke me up again when it was his bedtime, but I had had enough sleep by then. I know that his climbing into bed after me is gonna wake me up, but if only I could know that I could go back to sleep. I don’t think I can and furthermore, I’ll be woken up numerous times after that when he moves and snores. I kind of think this bed was a mistake and that we threw away $1000 when what we should’ve done was get two twin beds and lay them side by side. Maybe normal isn’t so nice after all.

I guess that if there are any signs or messages in the fact that I’ve been woken up more in the last few weeks than I have in the whole year, it’s God reminding me that I could never handle getting up every hour for a baby, so don’t think that just cuz I quit smoking, he’s gonna change his mind and reward me with that. Oh, there’s no way in hell I could handle having to constantly get up for a crying baby (even though I still kind of wish he’d let me have a kid and make me be able to handle it), but still, that choice should’ve been mine. Maybe I’d have been wise enough to do the right thing on my own and not get pregnant, but God never even gave me that choice. Instead, he made my decisions for me, as far as if I’ll ever have a kid.

Speaking of rewards, well, I know this will sound selfish, but I was hoping that God would give me some kind of reward for quitting smoking. Quitting smoking is the hardest thing I ever did. It’s a daily challenge that I’ll have to live with every day for the rest of my life if I continue not to smoke. I understand he can’t give me a child for it, but what about letting me be thin again? What about being a heavier sleeper, so I could sleep through more noise and Tom’s movements? What about a better and full-time sex life? It’s like he just doesn’t care. He hasn’t even noticed that I’ve quit smoking.

Another thing on my mind is Tom. How can anyone be so loving and be such a bold and casual liar at the same time? Knowing my husband’s about to hurt me yet again with his lies, is something I’m used to, but I still don’t like it. A part of it is my fault, too, for letting him set me up to play me for the fool that I’ll be throughout December. When it comes to certain things, my husband will always say what I want to hear, even if it’s bullshit.

Not that I’d ever have the guts to see a doctor about my sterility since you can’t fight fate, but it still hurts me to know that Tom will always be in denial and won’t admit that there’s a problem with the sex and with me physically, and therefore, I’d never have had the slightest shot at a child, anyway. What I don’t know is - what’s he gonna change his “everything will work out and we’ll have a kid” line to when I’m out of my childbearing years? Let me guess - it’ll be - “There was just no opportunity!”

I wonder something, too. Could Tom be taking any kind of spermicide drugs? I can’t think of what he could take while keeping it discreet from me, but you never do know.

I wish to hell my schedule was on days. Those freeloaders are never gonna let me sleep tomorrow!

Later...

My period is just beginning so I won’t be feeling so out of it for too much longer. Boy, God just does not want us to hit it right for sure! I know, I know, I couldn’t handle it anyway and he doesn’t want to help me be able to handle it, let alone be able and allowed to conceive.

The HS sent more address labels. A couple of different dog pictures and a couple of different cat pictures.

Yup, these fuckaroos next door are definitely afraid of someone. And they’re afraid for their physical selves a lot more than the house. Cuz if they were afraid for the house, they could have the dog be able to reach all points of the house during the daytime, too, but instead, they have it in the backyard only. At night, it’s chained to the car and it can reach just about all 4 sides of their house and I was wrong when I said it couldn’t. Get it? As if to keep someone they fear away from them.

Although these are the kinds of people that tend to attract many enemies, the only one I can think of that they could be afraid of is me. It’s been said that when I verbally let someone have it, that’s scary enough with my loud, viscous mouth and my temper being the way it is, and this dog first arrived right after I screamed at them last summer. So they didn’t just get the dog to piss me off, they got it for protection.

At 6:30 AM it went on a barking spree and for the second time that I know of, it went charging down the driveway, then came back up again. Shortly after, I heard a car door that suggested they put it in the backyard for the day.

Well, the knowledge that it could roam the front wall of our house if it wanted to scares the shit out of me and I wonder just how legal this is, too. I also wonder if there’s some other reason for this besides any fear they could have. Are they hoping it bites us? Or are they trying to make it more tempting for me to hurt the dog so they can go to court? Well, if it came on our property and hurt us here, we have a right to kill it.

Thank God I’m caught up on my sleep, since Thursday’s Turkey Day. He lives here, that’s a holiday, which means it’s gonna be anything but peaceful around here.

Later...

The Sony Satellite dish came today and I got another 80s CD, too.

Boy did I count wrong! I couldn’t see Shy’s babies too well in the burrow that they’re in and with the adults sitting on them. However, I got a glimpse of them just now and there are way more than two babies. More like 6 babies! And Cocoa’s definitely next. She’s starting to show now and is having trouble climbing.

We could have mice for the rest of our lives at this point.

Ziggy’s two are starting to move around now, but they haven’t wandered out of the burrow yet.

Shy had her babies. It looks like there are two of them, but I can’t tell for sure and I don’t want to go poking around and disturbing them. Same rule applies - gotta leave them alone for a couple of weeks. This is perfect timing, though, since I just cleaned their cages. I could work around them, though, like I just did. As when Ziggy had her two, Cocoa and Ziggy are helping Shy out and they’re all cleaning them and sitting on them to keep them warm in shifts. Shy had hers where Ziggy’s babies are. I thought she’d either have them there or in the maze. Anyway, if they want them moved, they can pick their tails up in their mouths and move them. The first batch is really starting to look like teeny tiny mice now and their eyes are just starting to open.

There’s no way I could be blessed with these babies being females like the adults are, so I’ll have to do some decision-making in a couple of weeks. Even though their living quarters could hold 100 mice, more like 15-20 mice are enough for me and would be nice, but I’ll have to keep it at just the 3 adults, plus whatever babies are female, and give the males to pet stores. Or maybe we can let the population grow to 15-20, then give to pet stores anything else after that. If I did that, though, the fathers would have to be separated from the babies cuz they’d eat them. Gross!

I just realized something about the freeloader. Naturally, I know that the reason why I’m not seeing a car there overnight since the dog’s return is cuz it’s deep in the carport cuz the dog’s rigged to it. Its leash, according to Tom is about 25’ long. Well, I was wondering how in one bark it could sound like it was in the carport, then sound like it wasn’t in the next bark. Well, it’s become obvious that only when they’re asleep, they’ve got it rigged to the car, but not with just a few feet of slack like it did when I went off about its 2 AM fit. Now it’s got an extension. Not 25’, of course, cuz then it could reach our doorstep and they certainly wouldn’t want that. However, they’ve got it so that it can just get to the front wall of their house. This is something they’ve never done till after the screaming match, so maybe I’m not the only one who’s not living in peace. Maybe they fear me doing something to the house or the dog and feel safer if the dog can cover more wall space of the house. Or they may want me to do something, as I said, to have an excuse to drag me into court. They can’t care that much about this dog and them ditching it cuz of the work they did over there is another thing proving that (unless she’s not supposed to have a dog), cuz they could’ve kept it in the house, then taken it out front or down the street to do its job. Anyway, maybe they really are afraid of me and just like I live in stress cuz of them, they live in fear cuz of me.

I hear the mice squeaking now. Yes, they make those sounds, too, but it’s more like a soft, high chirp actually.

My tits are so, so sore and I’m glad I only have 4-6 days before I get some relief. Of course, if I get relief on Saturday when no fertile woman should who has a guy get off in her 14 days prior like I did, Tom will still be running around saying everything’s OK. Fine. Let him.

Later...

The more I think about this fuck-up for a mailman we’ve got, the more I wonder if the Nicorette people will cancel the next two things I’m supposed to get in the mail or not. All cuz of someone’s lack of caring and hastiness to not read properly. So that’s what he’s doing now, huh? Instead of giving us other people’s mail, he’s giving other people our mail.

Later...

Some lonely dude, desperate for attention went blaring down the street so incredibly loud a couple of hours ago. Even louder than next door.

I’m pleased to say that I did get what I was supposed to get from the Nicorette Company today after all. I guess I was a week off in assuming when it’d be here. Anyway, it said: Congratulations Jodi, you made it 6 weeks! It also had tips on cutting back on the Nicorette gum.

I talked to Paula a couple of days ago, too, who was telling me how condemned it was where she was living when she was living in Puerto Rico. Justin’s father is from there, so they lived out there for a few months. The father’s back in the States now, too.

I’ve still been getting fairly regular messages from my folks, which is nice. She’s gonna be sending Tom out something soon.

I offered my parents the address and number at Mary’s and she said to send it, so I did. They know, though, that the house hasn’t been sold yet and that she’s not completely moved into Mary’s yet. When Ma does put the house up for sale, it should go fast, cuz she’s not asking for much for it. It’s a tiny rundown place, anyway, and just like Oswego Street was in Puerto Rico, her place is in Mexico. It’ll almost certainly be a Mexican family with 9 little kids that’ll move into her place, so I hope she’s not gung-ho about having Tom fix up too much of it. A Mex will take anything and besides, they’ll only tear the place up.

Again I woke up at 113, but I know I’m not gonna be losing weight. First off, I just don’t “feel” like I’m going to and second off, the way it fluctuates from 113-115 tells me I won’t. Usually, when I go to lose weight, it drops to whatever and stays there for a while. Then it drops again to stay for a while, and on and on. However, I’m just bouncing back and forth on a steady plateau.

When I look at how Cocoa’s looking lately, I wonder if there’ll be any more “mice droppings” but we’ll see.

I began to have a spoiled/weak spell yesterday about the kid I’ll never have. It’s sort of like cigarette cravings, though, and if I just tough it out, it’ll pass. Just like the reality of why I shouldn’t smoke helps me, the reality that I could never handle a child helps me, too.

That fucking mailman! Never have I had such a mail problem in all the places I’ve lived. During week 6 of quitting smoking, I was supposed to get another mailing from the Nicorette company, but I never got it.

Anyway, to get the freeloaders updated and out of the way first, the music hasn’t been much of a problem yet and the dog’s been better than expected. This is all subject to change, I know. That dog came in here as not much of a big deal, then became a big deal, and is now back to being more tolerable.

I am not looking forward to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s around here. Cuz he’ll be next door, it’ll be wild with visitors. Last year was peaceful, but that’s cuz he wasn’t living here for those holidays.

Andy and Michelle came to get the waterbed today and tentatively, Mary will be getting the other bed next Saturday.

The security door’s here too, but of course it’ll be a month or more before Tom can put it up. Things have been hectic, and there are never enough hours in at least Tom’s day. He’s also always tired still and complains of something new hurting him every day. All this has me more and more comfortable with my sterility and with the fact that my husband’s a joker. I am getting - shall I say - to like myself as a whole more and more. As I learn to accept and like myself, sterility and all, I feel more confident as a sterile/childless woman. More so than I have since knowing Tom.

As I may have said before, I may wonder periodically throughout our lives what life with a child would’ve been like (except for the obvious parts of that), and I may still want a child to a degree, but I have enough responsibilities and he has more than enough, and I want him to be as happy as he can be. I also think that people should have some things that they want, be it a little or a lot, that they just can’t get. Cuz that way, it keeps us from becoming too spoiled/selfish, to not have everything we’ve ever wanted. People like the sick fucks next door must be used to having most everything their way.

Our schedules are still opposite each other so we haven’t really slept together yet, so I don’t know if it’ll work out well. I don’t expect it to be fun, therefore, I may not bother to try to always be on his schedule. That way, I can catch up on my sleep when his schedule’s different than mine.

Friday night we went out to Old America where I got two puzzles and two more drawing books to use as demos. Since I’m naturally good at things like flowers and cartoon characters, and am not as good at people and realistic animals, these are the things that the books pertain to.

Shy’s gonna drop babies any second now, so I created a really neat setup for all the mice and T-Bear. T-Bear now lives with the big guys. I have a strip of solid wood that I’ve got going across the hutch. Resting on this is the smallest Play City cage. On one side of it, I have a hideaway and a high-rise stemming off. On the other side, is a long tube that goes down into the hutch where the big wheel is. The tube goes behind Spunky’s burrow, making it less accessible for the big guys to chew on.

I moved the babies under a burrow in the cage that is above the aquarium. I thought that they’d all be comfier there and there I can get a stable water supply. I can also get a stable water supply in the other cage, but not in the aquarium. The Velcro that’s supposed to hold the bottle holder to the corner sides is just too worn out.

I also shredded paper and put clumps in each corner of the maze and it was so cool how they dragged it all to the center of it. I did this so that Shy would have a nest of her own to use for her babies if she wanted to.

Cocoa and Ziggy move around to all parts of their 3 houses and maze, but Shy won’t be getting around till she delivers.

Is this nose of mine ever gonna feel the effects of not smoking as my lungs have? Better to have clearer lungs than a clearer nose. I know it’s allergy season out here and it’s better than wheezing like hell, but my nose is really no different than when I smoked.

Something must be going on a few blocks or so away. It sounds like a fucking kennel out there.

The freeloader is up to his usual shit. Slowly building up his music volume. Typical freeloader never fails, does he? He’s quiet for 3 days after he’s asked to lower his music and then it’s back to the same old shit. No wonder so many people hate freeloaders. They just don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves.

He left at noon with it at a mediocre volume, but I know that by this weekend it’ll be blaring and he’ll sit and play it in the driveway.

I told Tom just two weeks is all he’s getting. Then when nothing solves the problem, I will. In a way, this is my fault too, cuz I should’ve taken care of this problem nearly two years ago when it began. Like I said, when it comes to accomplishing some things in life, it’s up to us and us alone to accomplish them.

Up till yesterday, it seemed like we had swapped off here. The dog hasn’t been that big of a problem yet, but my hopes of not having to deal with both the music and the dog were obviously a waste of time. I wondered if it could have anything to do with the city contacting them, but no way. First of all, the city’s either never going to contact them about it, or they’ll just turn around and respond to us saying there’s nothing they can do. Secondly, even if it were possible that the city could and would do something about it, it would take a while.

The bottom line is this - the city can’t stand guard in their driveway all the time to make sure the music’s down or that he isn’t living there, but I can come close to doing that. I don’t give a shit whether or not he lives there. All I give a shit about is the music.

A couple of days ago, Tom bought us a few goodies. We got a new VCR, but the satellite dish hasn’t arrived yet. When it does, though, I won’t have to go through the hassles of programming anymore when I want to set up the timer to record something. All I’ll have to do is select what I want to record from the screen.

He also got some new dusters for me, since the ones we had got old and grubby. This set is really cool too, cuz it has a handle you can attach to two of the dusters to reach up high. The two regular-size ones are red and purple and then there’s a little pink duster.

He got a pool brush for when we clean the sides of the pool.

We got another sound machine for the back room. This one’s a little different but has basically the same sounds. The only thing I don’t like about it is that it’s not very loud.

He fixed his ma’s car yesterday. Till that one or his breaks down again in a month or so.

Later...

Another thing Tom picked me up the other day was a thing called Fen-Fen. It’s supposed to be an all-natural appetite suppressant. So far it does seem to be curbing my hunger, and I’ve gone from 116 to 113, but I’m certainly not gonna get my hopes up about it yet.

Now for the best news yet - the bed got here! Finally! We still haven’t slept together yet, cuz our schedules don’t match up, but last night was the first time in several nights that I slept 8 hours. I did wake up to pee once, but I fell right back asleep. So, the bed’s really nice, but I’m not sure how sleeping together will go. Yes, it’s much more stable than a regular bed, but it’ll still take getting used to. It’s great to be able to just walk right up to the bed, instead of having to get onto it at the foot of it or by climbing over another bed.

It was a real pain in the ass to drain the waterbed and it also took a couple of hours to set up this new one, so we had our work cut out for us.

I don’t have my side too soft, cuz then when I sit up, my ass is on the decking below it. I have it in between and I also put the foam pad on that had been on the waterbed. I like smoothness as well as softness and this bed’s mattress is a little lumpy.

Anyway, this Sunday Andy and Michelle will be coming over in her ma’s truck to get the waterbed and give us the door. At least, I think it’ll be this Sunday.

This was just all talk at this point, but according to Tom, there’s a place called New River just outside of Phoenix that might be a good place for us to live. It’s weird here, but the further out you live, the cheaper it is. So, we could get a chunk of land that’d be cheaper than this place and it wouldn’t matter how big the town grew since they can’t build up to within a few feet away from us. We may have to take a dumpy house with it, but in time we could maybe build our own.

Let me get the better or trivial things out of the way before I get to the shitty news.

I called to say hi to Paula, but there was no answer. Of course there wasn’t. The kid wouldn’t be there now.

Andy still leaves his daily 3-minute messages, which is the maximum each message can be, telling me how much he loves his job. I’m happy for him. Now that he’s got the car and job, I hope he gets the guy, but I don’t know.

I talked to Tammy a little while ago and she hasn’t quit smoking, but I told her to keep trying.

We went and played miniature golf yesterday. As usual, he kicked my ass, but we had fun.

Then we went to the library. It was a branch neither of us had been to before and it was weird looking. It was quite noisy, too, what with the handicapped people there. I don’t know if they had MD, or if they were retarded, had autism or what, but they were kind of loud with their hoots and howls. I got 5 books since I’m picky about what I read. The first one I tried, I couldn’t get into, but the second one’s great.

I was just out feeding the cats and refilling the cats and Bunny’s water supply. They’re all getting braver by the day, but of course, White Feet’s still the bravest and the friendliest and she even took a treat out of my hand the other day. I also play with the kittens, too, with yarn and balls.

Ma sent a message about her and Dad’s trip. I guess they were unfortunate enough to have to spend most of it with leg pain and arthritis pain and on the phone with their suppliers.

My other Mom has decided that that’s it, she’s ready to move. So she’s getting rid of a lot of her stuff and yes, the house will be sold at some point. I’m happy that she made this decision and is able to see that she just can’t live alone anymore. I’m sure that her moving into Mary’s and selling the house will make it easier for everyone.

From what I hear, Ma’s sister Margaret is still up to her same old crazy shit. She had to sleep in the tub with the water running on her feet, to ward off evil spirits.

The letter to the city went out yesterday and Tom did a fantastic job with it. Even though I know that nothing will come of this letter, especially anything good, it was so very well written. In fact, he did a much better job than I could’ve done.

OK, here’s the shitty news, even though I knew this was coming - it’s back. The fucking beast next door has returned and now I can kiss the peaceful nights goodbye. See, I don’t trust Tom when it comes to next door. He said that he was sure the dog wouldn’t come back, so when he says that, and that they’re not deliberately pissing me off, and that there’s something that can be done about the music and the dog too, I don’t buy it. In the end, the only person who can do something about the dog and music will be me. The dog’s return, however, may curb the music somewhat. Remember, by them and by God, it has to be one or the other. I wondered when he blared that music so incredibly loud a few days ago if he were trying to tell me something. He was trying to tell me that the dog would be returning. Then he escalated the music till making the switch back to the dog. I don’t know if he won’t stick me with both this time, but we’ll see. Yes, I still would take the dog over the music since the dog couldn’t wake me up, but this shit’s bad enough. I’m so fucking sick of these people and this city. I love Arizona and yes, this city’s got a lot of nice things about it that puts Springfield to shame, but I’ve also come to hate this city with a passion. Here, you either live in houses a few feet apart or out in nowhere land. There’s no happy medium. It really sucks that if you live in a house out here, and if you’re neighbors want a dog as part of their lives, it has to be a part of your life, too. I can’t look forward to my dusk-to-dawn peace anymore when I’m up at those times. That’s all gone now. It’s daytime now, so the fucking beast is quiet, but dogs don’t break routines too easily (look how long it took the guard dogs to quit their late-night barking) and I know that from around 6 PM-2 AM, it’s gonna be non-stop barking. If only these dogs could do their barking on the same shift, but not a chance. Each dog has their own way, and trust me, when the guard dogs can’t be heard, it’ll be next door’s turn to bark, and vice versa. Tom says that in a week or two tops, the night barking will stop and by the time it gets hot again, it’ll be settled in and will be no worse than the guard dogs. Bull fucking shit. I’m sorry. I love my dear hubby, but he’s dead wrong.

Anyway, the depression, anger, and frustration over it, can really have me stressed. I have to have fans on all night cuz these freeloaders say so and cuz they have to force their dog on me. And God won’t let me fight back, either. If I were to stick a source of noise on them that was 3 feet away from them or wake them up, I’d get holy hell for it from God and have my sleep taken away and have more things go wrong, but meanwhile, they can do whatever the fuck they want to me and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

I know now that they’re not moving. Not for a very long time, anyway. Each day my feelings get stronger and the weaker any vibe gets about them moving. They ain’t going anywhere.

It’s quite a coincidence that even though I knew this dog would return, it returns the same day Tom sends a letter about the music. As if God’s reminding me that if I fuck with him/fate, I’ll be compensated and made to pay for it. If there was such a thing as this letter being effective with the music, they’d just go out and get more dogs, with God’s help. Or they’d just have to have more company and maybe use that basketball hoop some more.

Later...

When I mentioned that I’ll be getting a period in two weeks that I shouldn’t be getting, Tom said, “Who said anything about November? I told you December and that hasn’t changed, so there should be no question about getting a period in two weeks.”

There shouldn’t be? Does he know something I don’t? I’m sorry, but any normal woman who got a squirt when I did, should more than likely be pregnant. But I’m not pregnant and I’d like to know how many more years it’ll take for Tom to see the reality of the situation. And I’d also like to know how and why he can sound so sure about this December crap. I mean he really, really sounds so damn sure of himself. Has he gone that much further into denial, or does he really know something I don’t? Has he really held back all this time, just waiting for what he thought would be a great time to squirt like hell? If so, I’d rather that that be the case, than this yearly denial thing. His knowing the truth won’t undo the truth, but it’d still help me, nonetheless. This doesn’t mean I’d ever have the guts to see a doctor about it, cuz I know what God would do to me if I got by him (not that this is something I could get by God on). I still say it’s what my gut instinct first told me - he’s afraid to cum much cuz he fears a child. Therefore, we can’t worry about my being afraid to see a doctor when he won’t cum but once every few months anyway. He’s much too smart to be naïve, so I’d say he’s pulling my leg about the bed being a magic cure and he knows it, too.

Still, what the hell is going on here? I just wish I knew what was really going through Tom’s mind and heart. Well, the bed should be here this week, so it’s just a matter of time now that I’ll be seeing just whatever it is that he’s gonna do. That is if that bed makes it here for sure without any more stalling.

Later...

Tom went to bed a little while ago and I began my new exercise plan, which I’ll explain after.

As far as how I knew the beast was back. Well first of all, when houses are just a few feet apart from one another and no one takes their dogs indoors, it’s no secret for more than 5 minutes, but I knew it before I heard it. Yesterday afternoon at around 4:00 I heard the little girl and the asshole in the backyard. Knowing they were not big on cooler weather and that it was a very odd time to be having company, I knew they had to be setting up stuff for the dog, like food and water. And then I heard it bark away. I looked out front expecting to not be able to see the car and I got what I expected. He’s gonna park deep in the carport again. Especially at night, so they can rig the thing up to the car in regard to me. Yup, these assholes really want to instigate shit and provoke me. Well, when I can convince Tom of how useless the letter will be, they’ll get what they want from me, only much much worse.

My vibes when it comes to them are pretty darn accurate. I guess we all have our weak spots and our hot spots when it comes to vibes, but like with the kid, I seem to be right on mostly when it comes to these sick fucks. So, trust me when I say that the letter’s already either in the garbage or filed away somewhere way out of the way, they’ll be here for quite a while longer, and that the dog and music will be a problem unless I do something about it myself.

I asked Tom if the city decided not to ignore the letter and if we’re right about how he’s not supposed to be there if he thought he’d end up leaving. He said yes, for a while. That’s true. The for a while part. I’m sure it won’t come to his leaving unless they have a fight which doesn’t look likely lately, but if he does leave, you’re talking just 2-3 months. Meanwhile, I’m sure his frequent visits would be made known to me. Very well known.

I asked if he thought it was his dog or hers. No clue, he said. I’m sure it’s hers.

Just a few more hours of peace left to go. Even the guard dogs have been quieter this winter. I’m pleasantly surprised. I still wish this winter could be like last winter. It was the quietest winter of all the winters I’ve been here.

According to Tom, though, the couple of hours or so that he spent in the back room late last night, he heard no barking. I don’t know about that, though, cuz he’s much more tolerant than me. Therefore, the dog could’ve easily barked without him noticing. As loud as it is in the back room, especially at night, it could still go over Tom’s head. Unless he felt that telling me he heard anything, if he did, would rile me up even more.

I have news that’s good, surprising, and infuriating. Let’s just say that Friday night was the direct opposite of yesterday and of how today’s been so far.

As I left off saying, the freeloader let me know he was coming and going loud and clear a couple of times. Then later, at around 8:30, the freeloader came in with the music blasting wicked loud and he just sat there in the car and wouldn’t even get out. So, it was either me killing him for once and for all right then and there or my waking Tom up. He went out and talked to him, but as always, he said he’d turn it down.

And Tom says this isn’t personal? How can he believe for an instant that this isn’t aimed at me? And even if it wasn’t, it is by God. If the freeloader isn’t doing this on purpose (but I know he is), then God’s going through him to get at me. In fact, I’m sure God did have a part in it. I didn’t sleep very well that night, either, and I think a good part of it was payback for banging the previous night. So, all in all, I knew I’d have to pay for it somehow. I just don’t get it, though. Why do I feel like I’m the only one in this world who has to be punished for waking someone up (except Tom)? And I’m still sure they never woke up. I can’t even get away with just thinking about waking someone up that I’m pissed off at.

Tom says he’s gonna mail the city out their letter tomorrow, but I don’t know. Whenever he does, if it’s as useless as I feel it’ll be, that black ass is mine!

Now here’s where it gets shocking - yesterday, he actually was quiet. I wasn’t born yesterday or the day before, though, and I know this won’t last long at all.

Paula called again yesterday and we talked. Why is fate having it be that we only talk when that kid’s there? It’s so annoying to keep being put on hold so she can scream at him and to have to listen to him whine like hell.

I also got another call I didn’t expect. My brother left a message. I was wondering when and if I’d ever hear from him again. In his message, he said he couldn’t talk long cuz he had to go out and shovel. So when I got a hold of him at work, it was the happiest chat in a long time. Kind of like old times when I’d give him my laugh when he’d tell me how cold/snowy it was. He said Sandy was out raking leaves one day and then they were shoveling snow the next day. They had 24 hours’ worth of sleet and then it snowed, and they were expecting more snow.

He said that Sandy and Jen were fine. He’s talked to Mom and Dad, but not to Tammy who said, “What makes you think he’d call me?” when I talked to her after. Then he faxed us an “upgrade to complete asshole” certificate. I sent Tammy a copy, but of course, I won’t tell her it’s from him, much less that he suggested I sent it to her cuz then she’d really be hurt. I just told her a friend faxed it to me.

I was never more shocked to hear that for the first time ever (that I know of), the family of Sandy’s that she’s been so very close to, has been giving her and Larry some problems. I don’t know what the problems are that Larry and she have had with them, not that it’s any of my business, but it was surprising to hear, nonetheless. As surprising as it’d be to hear Tom suddenly say he was pissed off at his mother.

I had Tom give Mom a couple of pictures when he went over to take her to church. One of the kittens when I rescued them from that storm, and one of my Bugs Bunny wall-art in the bedroom. By the way, when Tom told her I got “fancy” mice, she asked, “Dancing mice?” Also, the babies are just starting to get their fur. I saw a slight tinge of gray forming on their backs.

Now that Tom updated one of the computer’s CD ROM drives, we got to see a little photo slideshow that’s on Gloria’s latest CD. It’s got a few different things you can choose from, like song lyrics, about certain songs, etc. All the pictures sucked, except for one.

I got a kick out of Tom’s teasing me yesterday (since he came and I didn’t) when he said, “When we get the new bed, I hope you’ll cum more.”

Another sign that my ma’s brain is on the fritz - their number came up on our box yesterday. For sure too, yet when I called there to see what was up, she said she didn’t call me. Maybe Dad dialed us by mistake from another extension, maybe not, but it was their number for sure. Meanwhile, she’s sending Tom something.

Tom says he’ll fire off the letter when he gets in from work early tomorrow morning, then off it’ll go. His doing this when he knows I’ll be asleep makes me wonder if he’s really gonna do this letter thing, but if he does, I’ve got mixed emotions about it working. I know it won’t work, but I kind of wish it wouldn’t so I could be the one to have the honor of putting his music out of business for good. A bigger part of me wants this letter to take care of the problem cuz it’s the city’s responsibility and not mine.

I like the sound machine a lot and it’s great for stuff like dogs, car doors, and things like that, but it only does an OK job with shit like motorcycles, and it could never compete with bass in a million years. We’ll be getting another one, though, to use in the back room on Tuesday.

Tomorrow, we’ll be playing miniature golf and going to the library.

The sicko’s still quiet, but as we know all too well, it’ll be very short-lived. For now.

Now for the really good and surprising news - Tom got off yesterday. It shocked the shit out of me, too. Not just that he came, but cuz of when he came. If I were fertile, I’d most definitely be pregnant. Guess God’s decided that it’s time for him to see that I really am sterile, but either way, it was fun. I don’t know if God pitted the asshole against me (along with the asshole pitting itself against me) with the music in compensation for this, the bed, or what, but I think it’s more than likely payback for my late-night ruckus.

Both the bed and the satellite dish should be here this week unless something else puts a block on them.

I really ought to be ashamed of myself for being so naïve as to get that Agia electrolysis thing. It really is a crock of shit. I should’ve known it was too good to be true and saved myself an extra $100, but it’s too late now, cuz I can’t get my money back from this place.

The mice are doing fine. I haven’t seen much of the babies, cuz the 3 ladies are keeping them buried under the sawdust to keep them warm since they don’t have their fur yet. Even Cocoa and Shy help sit on them to keep them warm. It’s the female mice’s instinct. Ziggy’s still the friendliest and likes to sit on my shoulder. When I lay on my stomach, she runs up and down my back. I had her in my hand and at arm’s length, I shot pictures. I hope they come out OK. I also shot a few of Bunny and the cats. The kittens like to play with Bunny and thankfully, Mama Cat and Bunny get along just fine. They ignore each other, but that’s better than them fighting.

The living room wall heater broke like everything around here does. Instead of picking up the part to fix it, he got a couple of little portable heaters and they work great. So I have the original one in the bedroom, and the two little new ones are in the music room and living room.

The babies are doing fine. It’s so cute how sometimes all 3 adults nestle in with them. It’s amazing that they don’t get smothered with 3 mice sitting on top of them.

As soon as I got up, fed the animals and made my coffee, Paula started my day with a good laugh. She says it’s sleeting there and that the place is all iced over. Also, there’s no school there today, so I had to deal with at least a little of her screaming at Justin.

I’m now on step 2 of the Nicorette program. For the first 6 weeks, you have a piece of gum every 1-2 hours, but now it’s down to a piece every 2-4 hours. For weeks 7, 8, and 9 it’ll be that way. Then for weeks 10, 11, and 12, I’ll be at a piece every 4-8 hours. So, I’m halfway through the program and should be getting more mail from the company soon.

Later...

Got more pictures in the mail yesterday. I was wondering where the pictures were that I took of Spunky when we first got him. And it turns out that I did take pictures of Gizzy the gerbil, too, so Mom, Dad, and Tammy will each have a couple of envelopes of pictures to look forward to.

My folks left a message saying that they’ll update me on their trip in a few days, but first, they have to catch up at the store.

I’m really really pissed at Tammy. So pissed I could wring her neck! I should’ve known better when I wrote something about Tammy not making Lisa feel it was her fault that she got sexually assaulted. I’m sure that in the beginning she didn’t, but Lisa told me when we talked the other day that she called her own daughter a slut and told her that as far as what happened, she brought it on herself. Can you believe that?! I can, cuz that’s typical Tammy, but how sick can she be? How sick can anyone be to blame someone for someone else’s sick behavior? Especially a 14-year-old? Tammy has a way of seeming to be on your side one minute, then pouncing on you in the next minute. If there’s another good thing to never having a child, it’s that she and my parents would make me feel like I couldn’t handle it or that I’d be a lousy mom, if they didn’t come out and just say so. Maybe they’d have been right, but who would they’ve been to talk? I hate it when people pretend they can handle something or do well at something when they can’t, and then turn around and either tell or imply to others that they can’t either.

Lisa also told me what it was that she wrote that set Tammy off. Lisa started a journal, at the advice of her social worker, who she says also says it’s her fault and poor Lisa believes it, too. Tammy was rude enough to go and read it and I guess the problem was all about Lisa being friends with a bad boy. Lisa said she understands her parents not wanting her to hang out with kids on drugs, but she says she really cares for this guy as a friend. Lisa also told me she’d never write down that we talk, much less tell anyone.

Anyway, I told Lisa it was not her fault that some pervert hurt her (someone had to tell her what’s true). No matter what you do, say, or wear, a sick person is a sick person and we are not responsible for the actions of others. Parents should do their best to raise their kids to behave and all that and set good behavioral examples, but after that, we’re all on our own, all responsible for our own behavior. Not anyone else’s. Others may influence how we act, feel, think, believe, or our attitude, but that’s about it. We don’t control them and what they do.

Boy, do I have mixed emotions about God and Tammy. Tammy never should’ve had kids and God shouldn’t have allowed her any, but if she didn’t, I’d never have my niece Lisa as part of my life.

Tom doesn’t have a cold after all. Maybe he was just tired, as usual. Still, something will act like there’s a real pregnancy to avoid. Of course, we’ll also be busy, but that’s nothing new. God’s got to keep our time for sex, or for anything, in spurts. The positive side of it, though, is that it makes what time we do have more special.

Also, Ziggy went upstairs and came down without a problem, so I guess she just felt more comfortable waiting till she had the babies. Now my question is, is Shy pregnant? I doubt Cocoa is, but who knows with Shy?

Later...

Here we go with the bull. Tom’s implying that he’s gonna get off like hell tomorrow. When he works out his fears and paranoia - maybe.

I reminded Tom about the city letter, and now he wants to wait for a little to see if there’s a pattern. I knew it! I knew he’d stall and he’s gonna keep putting it off and making excuses with the false hope of my changing my mind about it. He still says he’s sure this letter will work, too, but I know it won’t. But if I can get him to send it and show him that it won’t work, then I can go and take care of next door myself in a way that will work till God punishes me for it.

Anyway, as far as patterns go - there is a pattern. There’s been a pattern for most of the time they’ve been here. At the same time, there’s a pattern, though, there isn’t a pattern. Meaning, instead of banging in loudly 2-4 times a day. It’s now usually twice a day and it’s sometimes not too loud. Also, the times vary. There’s no set time for when he comes and goes. He could leave at 7 AM and return at 5 PM one day, then leave at 8:30 AM and return at 7 PM the next day. Even so, he’s had about 3 different patterns in the times he’s actually lived there. First it was the loud music 2-4 times a day. Then it was no music, but the dog and the car doors. Now it’s car doors and music about twice a day that’s sometimes not too loud.

The asshole’s now beginning to park just outside the carport now where I can see him, now that the weather’s chilled down.

Like I said, if he or the city can’t or won’t do anything about their shit, I will.

We drained the pool some more today and it’s just about empty. There’s still a little bit in the Jacuzzi part.

Andy left 3 messages, 3 minutes each, telling me that he likes his job.

Again, I really like and care for my pal Paula, but boy is she a doofus! She doesn’t know who the father of either of her sons is. It’s fine to be a slut, cuz you know me. Whatever turns you on and to each their own is fine. But Jesus! Know the father of your kids for crying out loud!

She’s so full of shit too (unintentionally), saying that she didn’t know she was pregnant till she was in the 6th month and then she tried to tell me she had screwy periods till she was 6 months pregnant, then they stopped completely. First off, it’s impossible to not know you’ve been pregnant for 6 months. You’d have to be showing, be sick, or feel it moving around. Secondly, if you had that much bleeding, that fetus would be wiped out for damn sure.

It’s amazing how it wasn’t till this year that I really, really began to see and understand just how spacey and out of touch with reality Paula is. Sometimes, it takes being out of a person’s life for a while, then re-entering it, to see them for who they are. I knew she wasn’t too stable and that she was lacking at least a part of her brain back when we were neighbors, but not like I know it now. I was just too fucked up with too many of my own problems to be as receptive as I am now.

Later...

I’m so fucking pissed! Thanks, God. Thanks for rewarding me with next door going back to the way they were when they first got here for my not smoking and for my never doing shit to these people to deserve this. I swear to God, I’m gonna be out back making a ruckus every night that I’m up and I don’t care how much sleep I lose over it.

There were 6 helicopters swarming around the area really close by, and you know how loud those are. Yet over that, the fucking freeloader could be heard leaving louder than he has in well over a year. Tom heard it, too. I mean, we’re right back to where we started at the very beginning. Then, he came back just as loud. Tom was right when he said that in time, they’d go back to their same old shit after our screaming match, so I’d like to think he could be right about this letter shutting him up, but no way. And if it did, these fucking sick mother-fucking freeloaders would do something else. They’ll go out and get another dog or do something. Like I said, it’s either music or dogs with these sick fucks. And if it shut them up in all areas, God would have something else disturb my peace. Maybe a Mormon family will move in across the street, maybe there’ll be more construction around here, etc.

I’m gonna end up killing this freeloader! It’s just a matter of time now. When I get done with this fuck, this fuck’s gonna be out of commission for quite a while, and then when he is physically able to drive, he’ll be too fucking scared to blast that music, cuz he’ll remember. He’ll remember and he’ll have nightmares of me for the rest of his life. I really am about to be this freeloader’s worst nightmare. By the New Year, I’m sure.

Now this could be cuz they heard me talking to Tom out back and this is his way of saying, “I heard you. Now hear me.” Yeah, I hear you, you fucking black asshole. And soon you’ll be more than just hearing me! It could also be cuz they’ve figured out it’s me banging at night and why, but either way, I know they planned this the moment his bitch and I laid into each other.

What? Does he want me to do something to him or his car? He gets really loud at just about the same time he starts parking in front of the carport (as well as when the dog leaves). Is he looking for an excuse to take me to court? Well, he isn’t gonna get that, that’s for sure.

The only thing that’s improved here, is that due to the fact that these freeloaders don’t dig winter, they’re not having as much company, nor are they hanging outside gabbing.

And now I have 5 mice! That is, unless Shy or Cocoa’s pregnant, too. Meanwhile, Ziggy had two babies, and boy are they ugly. They’re these pink, bald, squirmy little things and are unrecognizable. I wouldn’t know they were mice if I didn’t know any better. They mature so fast, though, so they’ll look like mice before you know it. I just hope that this is it and that they’re the same sex. I could wind up with tons of mice if not, but I could give them to pet stores. I’m sure they’ll be fed to snakes, but I may not have a choice.

They’re so tiny. Barely bigger than a jellybean.

This may explain why only Cocoa’s been exploring the upper levels of their house, whereas Ziggy and Shy have remained downstairs (Shy looks pregnant, too).

Guess the workers are gonna be next door any minute now. Yesterday, I heard him leave by way of the car door awfully early, and shortly after, they arrived. Same scenario so far today - he left just before 7:00. Get it? As if he doesn’t want to make it appear that he’s spent the nights.

I was surprised but pleased that the workers weren’t here all day yesterday. Just a few hours, actually, but I thank God for my schedule being the way it is. They arrived at 7:00 and for a good 45 minutes, they pounded and pounded so loud that it shook this house and would’ve woken me up for damn sure! Then they worked quietly and left around 10:00 when we went and got Chanukah presents for my parents and for Tammy and Bill. I got them some desert decorations too, but not the same kind I’ve got. Theirs are coyotes with flowers and cactuses. A very beautiful southwestern display that I know they’re all gonna love and that they can’t get in the states they live in.

We went to the library too, and Tom got the address we needed. I got a Dean Koontz book.

Then Tom said he had a slight sore throat. Yeah, I believe it. He’s well overdue for a cold and it’s perfect timing, too. Meaning, right as I approach prime time. Once again, something’s got to act like there’s a pregnancy to prevent. Then why did it allow Tom to cum a good 5-6 times when it was the right time when he first started cumming? Nothing happened then, or in the past with asshole Ron, so I am sterile. Why, though, must it act like I’m not? And once again, if Tom’s so sure I’m fertile and if he wants a kid that bad, why hasn’t he cum in months?

Here is another of his many bullshit cures - he told me that quitting smoking would help him to cum, but all it did was increase the sex for a week or two when I first quit. Meanwhile, it’s been almost 6 weeks since I’ve had a cigarette and not once did he squirt. Oh, wait a minute! He needs a new bed to cum! That’s right. Only this mattress can cure his little problem.

We got some pictures in the mail yesterday that aren’t as impressive as I hoped they’d be. Some of them are blurry. There were some of my folks from when they were here and a couple of Gizzy the mouse. There were several of Bunny and Teddy Bear. Too bad I didn’t shoot pictures of Gizzy the gerbil, but I thought he’d be around a lot longer than he was. Anyway, I’ve sent my folks and Tammy about 12 pictures each. Of course, I look terrible in the few shots I was in. I look chunky and my face is geeky looking. You can also tell how dead and uneven my hair is.

I got a kick out of another ditzy thing Paula had said when we spoke. Since she loses my number every time she moves when she writes it down on paper, she wrote it on her apartment wall this time around. She’ll have to take that wall with her when she moves.

Later...

God, these baby mice sure are weird-looking. They look like they don’t have any eyes at all and you can barely see where the mouth and nose are. The ears are just little humps. They look like they’re only partially formed, which in a sense, is true.

I forgot to say before that the mice were $2.50 each. So they all came to just over $8.

Their tails look like rolled-up silk close up, but when you move away, they look like worms.