Today’s been a fun and pretty active day.

I’ve been playing new games with the kittens. I go down into the pool and sneak up to the edges with an object that they try to catch. Also, I’ve been throwing balls around both down in the pool and up on the patio.

I got a kick out of Tom earlier, who got the back room looking nice again till he trashes it again. He said he wanted to show me how he and the bird play and how the bird bobs his head up and down along with him. The bird wasn’t bobbing his head in a game. The bird was scared shitless! I asked him, “That’s your game? Scaring the shit out of the bird that you think is really playing?”

It was pretty funny, though.

Tom trimmed 3 inches off my hair last night. It looks so much more even and much healthier. However, if it ends up uneven again - fine. I’m not gonna keep cutting it up to the crack of my ass like I just did. Different hair shafts grow faster than others and I suspect that my sides have pretty much had their growth stunted. They don’t move at all compared to the back.

According to Tom, our niece Pam, the one that’s a loser with the 3-year-old spoiled brat, may have ripped us off. All couples, except for us, got lamps. We have enough lamps, but still, if you have to rip off one of your own family members, that’s low. She probably chose us cuz we’re childless and therefore, she figures we’re not as needy as the others. She was said to have been seen leaving with a lot of stuff. Too much stuff. These are the types of scum God loves to impregnate!

Andy’s in crisis again. I swear, we’ve totally swapped lives. Now he’s got a lot of problems, rather than one or two issues. He called 3 times, but there was only one message from him. He said he really needed to talk, but wouldn’t get into what was wrong. I had gotten up, though, when he said he was due in at work. I left him a message. I’m sure it’s over someone ripping him off at work, at home (he’s got another druggie roommate, Laura’s male friend), his loneliness, or his wanting pot if he hasn’t smoked it already.

No therapy for him, unfortunately. He was looking forward to that, but they lied to him and told him he could get more free hours than he really could. See, he’s in the same predicament I am, in a sense. He can’t get what would “fix” his life, so to speak. What he wants/needs is love, and to be around clean, honest people. But he can’t have that love and I don’t think he wants to be around clean people. Even he admitted to me that he’s attracted to druggies, but now that he’s cleaned up, maybe he’ll feel differently. And maybe he’ll attract clean people easier, too, cuz clean people typically want other clean people.

Anyway, since he can’t get what he really wants, he goes for the next best thing; he wants me to be there for him by phone for an hour or more every day, and that just can’t be, but whatever’s going on with him, I hope it isn’t too bad. I hope he’s not really miserable or anything like that.

So far, it appears this New Year’s Eve is to be a freeloader-free one. Now I’m back to thinking that maybe there hasn’t been someone over there every day, cuz last night there were no lights on. There are no lights on over there now, either, but earlier, the father stopped over for a bit. At least that’s who we think it was. The car’s still in the same spot. Right now, it’s so peaceful out as far as dogs go, but not by the end of the weekend. By the time the weekend’s out, the dog and the assholes will be back and the early evening hours will be filled with that fucking beast’s barking. Well if it is, the wee hours of the nights that I’m up, will be filled with all kinds of racket on my part! It’s a two-way street around here from now on.

I typed up and sealed in an envelope that we won’t open till next year at this time, my predictions for 1998. It’s basically gonna be a still year. I don’t know if I’ll return to smoking or if the freeloaders will be gone that year for sure, but here’s what I do know: neither of us will go to a doctor in regard to our sex lives and my sterility. The sex will be basically the same. I think that we’ll both be used to and OK with having sex in spurts, and with him cumming on the average of every two weeks to two months. I know how he really feels about a kid, but I see this as being a year where I really learn to live with and accept having no child and to even focus on its pros.

I see that we’ll still be living here and that Tom will still be at the bank. His mother will live through this year.