All I had today was a few chicken wings and some graham crackers, so I’ll soon be having a baked potato. I’m still 122. Been here a little too long now, so hopefully it’ll move on down to 120 soon and stay there for a week.

I forgot to mention earlier that I definitely heard packing sounds before the freeloader left this morning. It was banging around packing something for a good 10-15 minutes or so. My vibes don’t say it’s going anywhere, though.

I’m doing laundry now and making a CD. Or hoping to, anyway. It’s hit or miss. I made one CD successfully and now I’m working on another.

It’s getting pretty hot out there and oh my God! As I knew there’d be, to make up for last summer’s low bee count, there are tons of bees! One after another come to the pool for drinks. They’re like flies too, where they’re so fucking brave. They’re not the least bit scared to badger something that’s hundreds of times their size.

El Cocko left early today at 9 AM. One thing I don’t get about our little fucks - if the dog’s really gone cuz she got caught with it and wasn’t supposed to have it, and if he’s not supposed to be there, why is it that she can hide him, but not the dog? Guess they found the dog’s shit in the yard and carport. El cocko may flush his shit away, but haven’t they been inside the house enough to see his stuff? Maybe the teenage boy is supposed to be there, too, and they just assume his shit’s the boy’s shit. Both freeloaders are about the same size.

I don’t have a bad vibe for this weekend, but you never know. They have a way of springing shit on me when I least expect it, and this heat’s gonna stir them up at some point.

I hung a few of Tom’s shirts outside. I figured the heat out there could do a better job than our little dryer.

Blackie’s still in and out. We shared chicken wings earlier.

I’m still exercising daily, but I’m mainly focusing on target toning, rather than aerobics. I’m gonna have Tom bring over our treadmill that’s been at Ma’s for a while. I’ll put it in the music room and maybe I’ll walk to some of my custom-made CDs.

Playing CDs while I’m writing or doing something other than rocking or singing, is gonna be great, cuz I won’t have to program out the songs I dislike. All tracks will be stuff I like.

Later…

Oh, I’m so sick of this hit-or-miss shit! Every other CD’s a bust. I don’t mind it taking time to make CDs, but if there’s gonna be a problem with every other CD, then I don’t want to bother.

If I continue making CDs, I wasn’t gonna edit Linda and Gloria’s older stuff. Just the newer stuff where I don’t like many songs on their albums. Tom also suggested I make a singing CD of the songs I like to sing. That’s a damn good idea, but like I said, I don’t know if I’m gonna bother if the thing won’t record the shit the way I tell it to.

So, our little bitch next door filed her taxes with H & R Block, huh? Got a letter for her here saying they wanted to teach her how to file others’ taxes now that she’s filed her own with them. So, Joely, gonna go to school this summer?

Anyway, all we got for mail today was her mail. Guess our illiterate mailman felt we had to get something in the mail.

Later…

Tom got a pool cover. It was a bitch to get on, but the reason he didn’t get a reel, is cuz we want to see how well it works first. The reel costs more than the cover, but if the cover works well enough, we’ll invest in a reel.

I’m taking a break from making CDs for a while till Tom can get a more reliable setup created.

I knew those fucking freeloaders wouldn’t stay quiet forever. I knew it was just a matter of time. Oh, those fucking mother-fucking freeloaders! Do you know how hard it is to keep my promise to Tom and to restrain myself from going over there and setting them straight!? It wasn’t El Cocko’s gray car, but the company’s getting testy again. They want to see how far they can push me every few months. First an aqua-colored car came in and it sat with the music blaring for 2-3 minutes, then left. All I saw was some tall freeloader, but they all looked the same. So I couldn’t say if it was Mike, teeny-bop, or someone else. I was seriously considering going after them once and for all, but then it left. Who knows how often this car will be by?

Then about an hour later, in a pearl-colored van, out popped Miss Bitch herself. This van stayed parked there for about 10 minutes. Its music was at a soft, reasonable volume.

Do these fucks have any cars or know anyone with any cars that do not have stereos that are all bass and no music? And do they have or know anyone with a less-than-average car? Again, someone over there must have a job connected to cars and car stereos. All the cars are nice, and they all have the same fucking stereos.

I must admit that this bitch looked the best I’d ever seen her (she came out of the van with a stroller) and she’s one of the best-looking mothers I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if it’s drug-induced thinness or what, but she has a great figure. She may have an ugly face and she may not be able to talk or spell, but she’s got a great body. She also had her hair done nice, too, for once. Instead of having it up, she had it down to about the middle of her back. Also, I wish my last name was something like hers, instead of my geeky name.

Anyway, if they go back to their old shit and if I hear them on a regular basis, they’re gonna be dealing with me. That I promise.

They’re like spiders to me. Every time I find a spider, I got the willies for a while. With them, every time they act up, I’m stressed out for a while. I know this isn’t it and I know that if the company banged in, then so will Mr. Fuck.

Tomorrow’s Paula’s birthday. She’ll be 31. I made and sent her a birthday card. Using a glossy coated paper, the card came out great. I hope she likes it.

I’m hoping that Melanie will call me any time now to remind me of the appointment I could never forget.

I woke up at 120 pounds right on the nose! Good, cuz I crept up to 123 pounds yesterday.

It’s getting closer to being how it should be weather-wise, but it’s still been quite mild for this time of year. It’s to be 97º today and tomorrow. We’ll have our first 3-digit temp on Sunday of 100º.

At 7:15 I heard music at a so-so volume. I ran to see who it was but never saw anyone. The freeloader usually leaves at 7:30, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if that were him. Getting pushy and testy, huh? Well, I’m not going to be harassed by a houseful of freeloaders. That much is for sure. Especially when some of them aren’t even supposed to be there, so if we go back to our old shit here of them desperately seeking my attention, I’ll push for eviction and risk retaliation on their part.

Yesterday, Tom brought home a couple of pictures. One was of mom and her sister Neva from Michigan. They do look like sisters. Another picture was of Ma and Neva with Cindy and Mary.

Later…

Melanie just called. We only spoke for a minute, but I let her know that tooth has finally come down some more.

Burning away and making CDs! It’s fun but boring. We got some CDs that are blue on the writable side and silver on the other. We got some that are green on the writable side and gold on the other. He also got a CD label maker, but I doubt I’ll use it. It’s not worth the hassle.

Tom’s gonna try again to pick up a pool cover today. He tried yesterday, but they were all sold out.

In my parents’ email to me, they said cousins Boo and Max were coming down for a week, so if I wanted to leave them a message, do it here. So I sent them a quick hello and asked Boo how she got her nickname. Why would they be going down for a week at this time of year, though?

Although very soft, I heard that freeloader’s music this morning and I better not hear it any louder, or else in goes another city letter (if I can restrain myself from killing him). If the city letters are only good for a few months at a time, fine. Every time it acts up, it gets a complaint sent in.

Later…

Ma says Boo and Max send their love and that Boo got her nickname from a long-ago uncle.

El Cocko has been quiet. Maybe it’s not in yet. Don’t know for sure.

I’m making my last CD for the day. So far, we’ve been having lots of trouble with copying tapes. The CDs are coming along OK for the most part, but there were some screw-ups. One song got recorded twice, and twice I ended up with the wrong track. So I went and CD’d two songs I didn’t care to have on CD.

My allergies “seem” better since upping my nasal spray dosage. Remember, though, things seem to work for me in the beginning.

Gotta step up the action on the weight loss. It’s great to have gotten down to 122-123, but I don’t want to stay here too long. Time to take it down some more.

I’ve been leaving Tweety outside when it’s not too hot. He really likes it out there. He’s quiet now cuz the sun’s gone down, but in the daytime boy is he chirping up a storm!

Blackie’s still very loving and affectionate. He’s in and out all day.

Still no pool cover yet.

Tom’s old car failed emissions.

Mary’s got plumbing problems, David’s got computer problems.

I haven’t been able to tell yet if the freeloaders have changed their security bulb. No, they haven’t. It just came in and no light went on. It made a quiet entrance. Just one door.

Blackie’s watching Velvet now.

Bunny’s in a good mood and the other two cats just don’t get it. They still hang out back here as if they get all the love, attention, and food in the world from me.

Well, I guess there are not so many yards that are safe enough. They’d be hard-pressed to find a dogless yard in Arizona.

The dog vibe I had had in regard to the beautiful freeloaders has faded. God, I hope that they don’t get another dog! I thank God for every second that that yard is dog-free. If there were a dog there right now, it’d be nothing but yip, yip, yip! It’d be anything but peaceful. I know this is purely a dream, but if these freeloaders could stay as quiet as they have been, then yes, I’d love for them to be our neighbors till we move. I’ll keep dreaming while I can, though, cuz all good things must come to an end.

Tom should be in any second now. He’s gonna get more recordable CDs and he mentioned picking up a pool cover, too.

I just dipped my feet in the pool and spa. The spa may be something I could immerse myself in, but I don’t know about the pool. I’d have to be really desperate. The spa’s always warmer by a few degrees cuz it’s so much smaller than the pool.

I’m still usually weighing around 122, but I’m psyched to finally have my waist down to 29½ and my legs are now under 23. Still got a way to go, though.

The freeloaders never took in their recycle bin from yesterday. I’m sure they’re still there, though, so I guess they’re just lazy.

I talked to Andy. So far, his new job’s going well, but he’ll quit or get fired. I know him.

Got a thank you card from Jen (now that I know she spells that with two Ns) thanking us for thinking of her and for sending her the confirmation card. She also enclosed a picture I’ve seen before of Larry Jr. and one of her. I would never have known it was her, either! She looks like she’s in her early 20s and truthfully, I wouldn’t have recognized her if she fell on me.

We screwed yesterday and he didn’t cum as usual, but it was much better for me. I used the vibrator before he got on top. This helped to get me off easier. It pisses me the fuck off, but I still get irritation down there. Sometimes it gets bad enough that it bleeds. But we hardly ever screw, I said to Tom, and he said that maybe that was why. Just like with the braces. Cuz the braces are there full-time my mouth has toughened up to them. Well, we can’t have full-time sex, nor would I want full-time sex. Too much of anything, be it good or bad, gets to be a drag after a while.

I asked Tom if he’d be upset at my saying no to any procedures to fix me if that were possible since he swears he does want a kid. He said that he couldn’t tell me for sure how he’d feel, but going by past experience, he’d accept me as I am. Just like he accepts my ear, my hyperness, etc. Oh, I’m sure he can get by just fine with our never having a kid.

You know it’s funny, cuz here I am not only blaming others for mine and Lisa’s problems, but I even have my bouts of self-blame, too. I feel like I started this arm-cutting cycle and that somehow, some way, Lisa got it from me. I know this isn’t true, but sometimes I can’t help but feel that way and feel that if I had been a normal enough kid, so to speak, maybe I wouldn’t have had to deal with all the funny farms, foster homes, schools, and pills to begin with. Again, though, I know it was my folks who copped out on me. Maybe I was a bit different as a kid, but I wasn’t a bad kid. I didn’t hurt anyone, and I wouldn’t have hurt myself if they weren’t so negative. They just didn’t want to deal with me, but when they did, they didn’t usually do so well at it. In a sense, they were victims too, besides perpetrators. They only knew what they were taught growing up. They trusted the professionals without knowing they were quacks waiting to brainwash us.

So, this is the last journal that I’ll be writing by hand, then I’ll just be typing them into the computer and I probably won’t bother to print them out. I’m not sure what my new system will be like. Maybe I’ll have monthly files or two months per file.

Gosh, it feels like I haven’t written in weeks! That’s cuz I’ve been so busy burning CDs. When I say “burning” that’s cuz that’s what lasers do. Been burning myself too, but one thing at a time here.

Tammy called and we ended up having a pleasant talk, believe it or not. She told me she was never pissed off at me. She just needed space and time to deal with Lisa. Fortunately, Sarah and Becky didn’t get beaten. Just Lisa did cuz Lisa’s not naturally his. I swear that all guys are the same. If they don’t beat or molest their kids, they ignore them. Lisa, though, is having suicidal thoughts and is in therapy along with Tammy to deal with the beatings, but even so, this poor girl’s gonna be affected by this for the rest of her life. She’s never gonna forget it. And what further burns me up is that Bill’s allowed visitation rights. This guy should be killed, but if he can’t be, he should be locked up and have no rights to the girls. Oh, how I’d love 5 minutes alone with that boy! And leave it to my folks to tell me not to judge until I know both sides of the story after I expressed my opinion about Bill to them. Yeah, they ought to love Bill. They all have common ground. They all believe it’s right to hit kids. Well, I have absolutely no reason whatsoever to doubt my niece or sister when they say Bill was violent. 

I asked Tammy how she could stay with him as long as she did if she hadn’t been happy for years and since the beatings have gone on for years. Her answer is totally baffling to me. She said she felt it was her fault. How can any mother think it’s her fault that some sick fuck hits her kid? As I told her, she’s not responsible for others’ actions.

Well, at least she’s making it and trying to improve her life and the kids’ lives. I could never make it alone with one kid, let alone with three.

Tammy’s also understandably hurt and angry with Mom for playing favorites. Yes, Mom’s always been into favorites. Sometimes it’ll be Larry she adores, then me, then Tammy, etc.

She says she’s through with Mom and Dad and had tried to call Mom on Mother’s Day, but Mom wouldn’t go to the phone.

She says that Larry told her that if Lisa has any more problems, she won’t be hearing the last of him. What’s he gonna do? Have Lisa taken away? I don’t think so. It’s next to impossible to take a kid from their mother, even if kids have more rights nowadays like they do. Anyway, Tammy’s pissed at Larry for saying she’s a shitty mom when he was a shitty dad. Larry may have a great sense of humor and he may not have beaten or abused his kids emotionally and verbally, but he was never home and was a slut and a half. He even admitted this to me and that’s why he got off the road and into business.

Tammy says Lisa’s upset over Jen’s freedom, which I can understand. I mean, I’d be a bit envious too at her age. Yeah, Lisa’s bitching about Tammy’s rules cuz she sees how at 10:30 on a school night Jen’s running around the neighborhood with no rules or restrictions.

Later…

I finally got to talk to Lisa for the first time in quite a while. She was in Natchaug Hospital for a while. The same place they took me. She hated it there and says it makes her “feel good” to cut her arms like she did. I tried to tell her that there are other ways to feel good and that when she gets that upset she should remember our promises to each other and go listen to music, talk to someone, and do anything but harm herself. Her anger is at her father, not her arm. Her arm didn’t do anything to her. I also told her that things do get better even when we don’t see how they ever could. It’s her arm and her life, but hopefully, she’ll get better and do what’s right. She swears she isn’t smoking, either.

There’s something I don’t get about Paula. If the state took Robert away feeling he was abused, neglected, and molested, then what’s Justin still with her for? Wouldn’t the state feel he was in danger, too? It just doesn’t make sense. It’s such a screwy system. So screwy, that I think it must be deliberately designed that way. If you ask me, though, if a parent fucks up with one kid, they’re gonna fuck up with the others. If she can’t mother one kid, she can’t mother any kids, and if they take one kid away, they should take them all.

See, this is why I’ve come to be so glad I can never have a kid and I wonder how I could’ve wanted one in the first place. Just to go through what my parents did and what Tammy’s going through? No thanks! But I was bummed out yesterday over God’s taking away my right to choose. I know God did the right thing and is just looking out for me. He wouldn’t let me get into anything I couldn’t handle and that’s fine, but what burns me up is that these fucking assholes never tested the DES and these quack shrinks, who were so obsessed with controlling me, never thought about my future, and all the while God sat back and allowed my body to be used as a guinea pig. He let it happen. He let them use me as a toy to be programmed to suit other people’s standards of “normal.” All cuz I was too hyper, wanted the attention my parents wouldn’t give me, and had far-out dreams of becoming a singer.

Later…

As I told Tom, I’m a very curious person who likes to know how things work or why they don’t work, and it’s my right to know what’s wrong with my plumbing if they can tell me. So when I’m 35 I’m gonna go find out. Then later, he told me 35 was too long and that when I turn 34, that’d be a good time to go to a doctor. Oh right! Like he really would go?! That’s what he said months ago, and he’s never gone to a doctor yet. So, I told him I’m not stupid. I know that when I’m 34 he’ll make more excuses to put it off even longer cuz he doesn’t really want a kid. Fine. He doesn’t have to go to a doctor. Not now or ever. I just want to go, with or without his support, with or without his going too, to find out what’s wrong with me. That’s all. I don’t want a kid. I don’t want to make a big deal of it.

His actions just don’t go with his words. They really don’t. We screwed around Sunday, which was boring, but at least he got in there, and he said for the thousandth time how he wants more sex. Yet yesterday he didn’t touch me. He could’ve found the time, but nope. So, even if I’m hardly ever horny and even if I’d rather take care of myself, I hate it when he says one thing and does another. To me, it’s all the same as lying.

Out of curiosity, I asked him how he could not want to go to a doctor if he wants a kid and knows something’s wrong with me. Doesn’t he think it’s best to try to fix something that he thinks can be fixed (he thinks I can be fixed, but I know I can’t be)? He thinks yes, it’s best to try to fix something he thinks can be fixed, but not that instant. Yeah, I know, he likes to put off things for years. Especially things he’s afraid of and doesn’t really want to deal with or change. So now that makes two of us. Now we’re on common ground. We both don’t want a child.

Speaking of kids and how much I hate them in general, excluding those related to me, of course, Tom said he was mean to the neighborhood kids yesterday. He said they were kids he’d never seen before and that he just can’t understand playing in the street. There were a few kids playing ball in the street that ended up playing in our driveway. Right in our fucking driveway! Such rude, bold, brazen fucks! What if our front door was open? Would they just waltz right in and play in our living room? Use our bathroom? Eat whatever was in the kitchen? I’m sure they would! So Tom went out and told them to go play in someone else’s driveway. Good for him!

Anyway, it was a miraculously quiet weekend. I couldn’t believe it!

Mama bitch, who went from being fat one day to smaller the next, wizened up and had her kittens elsewhere. So I’ll be seeing them once they get a little older.

I’m now the smallest I’ve been since peaking at 128! I’m down a couple of inches all around and woke up at 120½!! And I had had a setback, too, where I almost jumped back up to that famous 124. Well, I know it’s a bit fast, but if losing weight the wrong way is the right way for me, so be it. I’m still exercising and firming things up even if it’s not much yet and Tom says my craters have smoothed out, too. I’m also amazed at how regular I’ve been since not eating as much. It’s nice to see the old me slowly, but surely emerging. And what’s neat is that I’m charting my progress. When I lost all that weight when I was 19, I didn’t document it, cuz I wasn’t writing journals back then.

My allergies have been a nightmare! They were so bad yesterday that I thought I had a cold. I was tight and wheezy and had sneezing fit after sneezing fit. Nothing’s really changed since quitting smoking but our financial situation and my weight. I still have ridges in my nails, dry skin, etc. If I had known that I’d have times where my lungs still felt like they smoked, and if I had known I’d get so big, and that not much would change for the better by quitting smoking, I would never have bothered to quit and put myself through those 4 months of hell.

So far, I’ve got 4 music CDs made, one edit CD, and 6 killed. Yeah, I fucked up a few times and got the songs out of cinch. I’d get the last half of a song and the first half of the next song, all on one track. It’s so cool, though, and although it’s time-consuming, it’s totally awesome to have the edits on CD! Can’t wait to surprise Andy with it, but I’m afraid he’ll ask me to make a whole shitload of CDs for him, but no way!

Woke up again at 122 pounds. This is the longest I’ve stayed under 124, but I’ve still got a long way to go. If I can ever get there! I practically have to eat just barely enough to stay alive for the rest of my life if I want to be thinner. I was right as to my theory about why crunches and certain exercises won’t take to me. They won’t work, said a fitness expert on TV, till you lose the fat. Yes, just like I figured, I have to get some of this fat out of the way by dropping pounds by not eating much and by doing cardiovascular workouts before they’ll start to work.

Guarding Blackie against the others getting his food has never been easier. This is cuz he now eats inside. He wants to be indoors more and more and I let him in when I’m around to watch him to make sure he doesn’t trash anything or harm the mice. We even got a disposable litter box.

So will the freeloaders pitch their fits today, tomorrow, or Monday? I think it’ll be mostly Monday that they’ll make total fools of themselves. In a sense, I’m sort of embarrassed for these sick fucks. Don’t they know what complete asses they make of themselves? I mean, hey! I’m not impressed. Not with your car, not with your bass, not with nothing, you sick freeloaders!

Later…

The bitch is back, and no, the bitch hasn’t had her kittens yet.

Before I get into the project that Tom and I are gonna work on when he gets up which is sort of an illegal operation, Paula called a couple of hours ago. She’s the same old Paula, but it was great hearing from her since she doesn’t call me as often as Andy does and would like to. She’s got restricted service now and was using a phone card. She cracked me up, as she usually does. She sounded more uppity, too, and even laughed more herself. She said Disability has got her listed as a paranoid skitzo which only comes out when she’s depressed or upset. I was shocked and said, “You mean you have multiple personalities?” Then she said she couldn’t sleep. Whatever. She’s what I call a “funny ditz.”

She beat up yet another girl and put her in the hospital and got arrested. I’m probably one of the only ones she would look out for. She could be rip-shitting mad at me and she wouldn’t touch me, but she could be somewhat pissed at someone else and deck them.

She said she had a friend who died of AIDS, who gave her her furniture, and she thinks her spirit’s in her place. 

She has no rights to Robert, her older boy, till he’s 18, cuz she was accused of molesting him. Paula says his father did that. I believe her.

Her Jewish friend is going to “church,” if she died, her ghost would look out for me, diet pills screwed her up, she cut her hair off short cuz she got pissed off at some guy, and sent a letter to me with pictures of her and Justin that I never got. She said she’s been having problems with the mail there. Or maybe our lovely mailman gave someone else her letter and pictures.

We jumped from subject to subject so fast, that I can’t remember every little thing we talked about. I should take notes when she calls!

Later…

Damn! Is Tom ever gonna get up? Half my day’s already gone. I’ve been up since midnight and he was already asleep. He’s had at least 8 hours of sleep, so I hope he gets up soon, cuz I want to begin making CDs. Yes, you heard right. We got blank CDs and the equipment to copy CDs, tapes, whatever. Just think - the edits on CD! Yippee! And I’m gonna edit my CDs. I have so many CDs where there are just one or two songs on them I like. Now I can condense all my CDs.

Well, I’m not losing weight all that fast after all. I’m still around 122-123, and this is the longest I’ve held it down there, too. I’ve also been lucky with not being so constipated. They say exercising helps that, too. Guess so.

Yesterday I had much more stamina than I’ve had in a while. I felt like my old self bopping to that aerobics show. Yes, you can see I’ve lost weight everywhere and I do feel better, but I’ve still got a long way to go. Tom feels I don’t need to lose weight or reduce in size; just increase in fitness. Well, I certainly want to do all of the above. So, I shall take it as far as God will allow me to.

Speaking of God, and speaking of our beautiful neighbors, I know God, I know the freeloaders. It’s inevitable, I mean, I just know this weekend’s gonna be hell. God always makes me pay for everything. Even the little, simpler things in life that no one should have to pay for - peace and quiet within their own homes. I also know that not only are these freeloaders capable of lying low for 3 days in a row, but that they’ll use this holiday weekend as the perfect excuse to torment me. Most of their sick buddies will be coming to them, cuz they have a house. Most of these sick fucks live in apartments. I can already tell you what’s gonna happen. Hell, it’s like a script already written out, just waiting to be played out. There’ll be about 4-6 cars, each will blast in and out. Mr. Fuck himself will bang in and out at least 5 times. The bitch and other adults will probably talk so loud you’d think they were all severely hard of hearing if you didn’t know any better. The little animal will be squealing away and zipping up and down the carport in its little car it peddles around. And to top it all off, there’ll be 8-10 kids playing ball for hours.

Yeah? What goes around comes around, you mother-fucking freeloaders!

Later…

Another hour and a half and we’ll see how el cocko leaves. There was no music yesterday that I know of, but he sure slammed that door real fucking hard.

I did the puzzle I got in one day, and now Mom can have it.

Later…

I never heard the freeloader leave. Maybe it left while I was listening to music or maybe it’s still there.

Just thought I’d update till Andy calls.

We’re almost at this dreaded 3-day weekend. As I told Tom, maybe I can get out of the party I’ll be forcefully invited to and made to be a part of by going to his ma’s house. I still have to vacuum like I told her I would. There’ll be parties there, too, down in Mexico, but it’s different when you know those people aren’t deliberately trying to bother me and piss me off.

These freeloaders are so fucked, though. They don’t give a shit what I think of their music and they don’t give a shit that it bothers me (although there hasn’t been any yet), but they do give a shit what I think of them. They give a shit that they make sure I know that they’re just as good as whites. They give a shit that I acknowledge and notice their existence.

Evie’s back. Yes, she left me a message a few days ago, so now I’m sure I’ll have the long, daily messages all about boring shit I can’t relate to, but I’ll live.

Later…

Andy called back but was too tired to talk.

I’m going to have a TV dinner, cuz my legs feel a bit weak. You know, that rubbery kind of feeling. Then I’ll cover what we got yesterday.

Later…

OK, if eating doesn’t help, I’ll see if an Ibuprofen will help the achy muscles in my legs.

We went to Tower Records yesterday, but they had a shitty selection. Still, I got a Cars CD, the Judds, Olivia Newton-John, and Juice Newton. There are still others of Olivia and the Judds I’d like to have, and there’s The Dream Academy, Nicolette Larson, and one of Linda’s I hope to find, too.

We also went to OSCO Drugstore where we got a puzzle, mace, a lotto ticket, wax, and a toothbrush since I just dropped the second one down the sink.

We went to the pet store for supplies, too. Guinea pigs must not sell as well out west. They almost never have baby GPs. All I ever see are older ones. We got sawdust, alfalfa, and nibble sticks for everyone, and the mice got a new toy. A colorful little “spaceship” by a brand called Critter Trail. They suck, though, cuz it was really hard to assemble this thing. Their parts are too tight. Anyway, all this thing is, is a little dome-like thing with a ledge they can sleep on. I put some food in it for them. They have houses, wooden burrows, and all kinds of cute things for them to sleep in. The only trouble is, is that the aquarium only has so much space. I also got a bright, colorful ball for Blackie. It’s a soft ball and it’s big enough so it won’t roll under the gate or the old easy chair that’s out there.

This mace I got was bullshit. It’s a combination of tear gas and pepper and it’s useless on cats. Cats move much quicker than humans. Also, it ran out after just a few shots. Well, the new feeding arrangement has worked so far on getting rid of mama bitch, but not White Paws. Unless the bitch is only gone cuz she finally wised up and had her kittens elsewhere. Great. Now I’ll have to deal with all those, too, when they can get into this yard. They can’t be too far away.

Later…

I just realized something about the freeloaders. There is a way I can get an idea of what’s to come this weekend. He usually tells me a “change” is coming, so to speak, by playing his music louder than usual. A day or so before there’s gonna be a party or he’s gonna split for a few days, he gets loud. So I’ll report in if there’s anything he tries to tell me. My biggest worry, even bigger than dealing with their shit, is restraining myself. How could I keep from going over there, beating the shit out of them, and ending up in jail for either assault or murder if I got carried away? I just hope God, who knows my temper, will keep them off my ass like they have been, for all of our sakes. Besides, I would think that these sick fucks would want to hang onto a place to live and not have all kinds of city complaints and risk eviction.

I forgot to mention that the weekend was another miraculously quiet one from next door as far as we both know. God’s really gonna compensate me for all this quiet time! I can promise you that this Memorial Day weekend will be a whole different story. There’s no way they’ll sit still and be quiet for 3 whole days.

Yesterday I called to thank Mom for the new AC/heat pump. She laughed when I said I wish it could be December or January just for a week so I can test out and enjoy the heat coming out normally, instead of through shitty wall heaters and portable heaters.

Just 12 more days till I see Melanie and this time, she should be seeing less of me.

The day before yesterday I had a TV dinner and that was it. Yesterday I weighed 123½ and had some grapes, graham crackers, and popcorn. Today I weigh 122 and I had grapes and graham crackers and will later have some potatoes and probably something else, too. I took a dump today, so that’s good. Been drinking lots of water and coffee and taking my vitamins. Still exercising as much as I can too, but again, if you looked at me and were told I’ve been exercising for a month, you wouldn’t believe it. Tom said to wait till I’ve been doing aerobics for a month. We’ll see.

I know I’m losing weight too fast and that this is the wrong way to lose weight, but it’s the only thing that’s been right for me and that’s worked. I’m amazed at how well I’ve been doing. No constant severe hunger, but I was tired yesterday. Today I feel fine. I don’t feel weak or tired, and I will eat a little more today. I certainly don’t want to get sick. I still don’t know how far down I can drop my weight and for how long, but we’ll see.

Later…

The two vibrators came yesterday. There was also a porno tape. I’ll let Tom watch that. I’ve never been one for watching people fuck. Anyway, I used one of the vibrators and came in less than 60 seconds. I wish I could do that with Tom.

There goes Caddy Kid who I’ve only seen once in the last couple of weeks or so. What? Are we back to blasting by 3 times a day? We’ll have to see what happens when school lets out, but this may be no high schoolboy. It could be a 22-year-old going to a job for all I know. 

Paula left a message saying she doesn’t have a phone. Yeah, I knew it was just a matter of time before the ditz lost her phone. And yet she gets close to $1000 a month between her and that kid.

Got another package yesterday that was pretty much useless to me. All it had in it was a blanket, a few throw rugs, and a couple of knickknacks.

Believe it or not, I haven’t had anything but a few grapes, water, coffee, and vitamins in close to 24 hours. I haven’t shit today and am gonna get my period anytime now, so I’m all watered down, but so far, not so good. I haven’t weighed myself yet, but I feel like I haven’t lost a pound. It’s hard, but I have to do this. It’s the only way I’m gonna know if something’s wrong. Also, I thought about it and asked myself if I wanted to be thin again if I could, and be hungry all the time, or not be hungry and be fat. I decided that if I could get thin again by eating barely a bite a day, yes, I’d rather deal with the hunger. It’d be worth it. However, it looks like what my gut initially told me, is true. I think that if I don’t eat, it’ll keep me where I’m at, but if I go back to eating, I’ll eventually keep gaining weight. There is no “right” way to lose weight. At least not for me there isn’t. Starving’s all that’s ever worked for me, but like I said before, I don’t know if the weight loss would keep accelerating like before, once I started eating again. Eventually, I’m gonna have to have a little more than grapes, cuz this isn’t worth dying over either. Well, we’ll see, but I still think it’s now in my nature to be heavy and if that’s so, I’m not gonna put up with all this hunger just to stay big. If there’s no significant change in another day or so, I’m just gonna eat what I want and never worry about that or my weight again. I don’t know if I’ll exercise, though. Again, it doesn’t really do much for me, but maybe I’ll do it just to say I’m doing it.

The new AC/heat pump is now installed. I was right about the times. They came two hours late, and 3 hours’ worth of work, my ass. A freeloader came right before 8:00 and forklifted the AC off his truck and put it by the garage. At 8:30, two guys came and began prepping for the new AC by ripping apart the old one. It sure sent down a lot of dust through the vents (fortunately I didn’t have another attack, but we’re back to the 4-hour wake-up calls) and it sure sounded like they were gonna come right through the roof at some points. At noon, the crane came, and it was cool! First he pulled out some extensions to brace his truck from tipping over from the weight of the crane/AC, then he picked up the old one and set it down (someone came later to pick it up for scraps), then he brought up the new 500-pound AC and using hand signals, they put it in its place. Then they took an hour lunch and didn’t leave till 2:30. So they were two hours late and were here for 6 hours, but it was well worth it, and we survived.

The only bummer to them being here was that they made all that noise and not a damn soul next door was there to hear it. I guess this was a Monday that no one was there, cuz no one came to take the recycle bin back up. Well, it wouldn’t have disrupted their day anyway. They like noise.

It’s gonna be another erratic period for me. Yesterday I had spots for a handful of hours and since then, nothing.

Later…

I sat outside at the table and wrote for a little while. Although cloudy, it’s getting pretty warm out there, so I just came in. Tweety was out there singing till it got warm. He likes to go out and sing in the mornings. He’s a strange bird.

I left Andy a message asking how his new job’s going. He started yesterday. Hopefully, he won’t be a little slut with his coworkers and customers this time! Not a slut. I mean a flirt. He should get a job doing phone sex. That’d be the perfect job for him. He loves phones and next to talking about music and people he knows, he loves to talk about sex.

I’ll also have to ask Andy why Laura wanted my number. She called me (I thought it was him) and she said she hit the last number redial by mistake and got me. She assumed I was someone else calling, she said. After, I thought about it, and what she said made no sense. Couldn’t she just check her messages and see it was me who just called? She called me right after I called there. So I put 2 and 2 together and that tells me that she wanted my number. I should’ve thought to block my number when calling there, but didn’t.

I’m kind of heavy-headed and groggy right now, but I thought I’d record some thoughts, anyway.

Amazingly, I haven’t heard from Evie, who’s been back from CA for a while now. Is she just busy? Or does she feel I’m too distant and don’t want to bother with her? Is there something else? Well, I won’t contact her unless she contacts me.

Yesterday was a really shitty, frustrating, depressing day.

First, though, we ripped the portable AC out of the back room wall, since in just a few hours from now we won’t need it.

What happened to me shocked the shit out of me. It’s really fucking scary to think that as a non-smoker, I can still wake up with bad attacks. I thought those days were over. You mean, I still have to live in fear of knowing that that can happen as a non-smoker? I thought my bouts of wheezing and my allergies would be gone with the cigarettes, but I was wrong. I still have bad allergies and I wheeze a little every day. I still need my inhaler once or twice a day. Yes, I’m much better overall since quitting, but to have this reality slammed into me in an instant that this old enemy is not entirely gone really freaks me out. It happened at that cursed fourth hour of sleep and it felt like something was literally lodged in my lungs. I had a pain in between the shoulder blades. For the first time since quitting, Tom had to whack my back to help kick up all the goop that was in my lungs. I thought at first I could cough it up in just a matter of minutes. Right! It took closer to an hour to settle the fucking thing. One really can never be totally free of old enemies, can they?

Later…

I still don’t want a child these days. I know that I’d just end up more miserable than I could ever imagine and than I’ve ever been before and that it’s something I could never handle. But this man of mine still says he does. Then why the excuses? He won’t go to a doctor and doesn’t think I should right now, either. But just last month he said I should do something and see a doctor. I’m tired of this man jerking me around, saying one thing then another, and playing on my emotions with this issue. He says we shouldn’t go to a doctor till we have full-time sex. Even if we could have full-time sex and even if we both wanted that, that’s irrelevant. What’s that got to do with my being sterile? We don’t need to prove to ourselves any more that I’m sterile. We both know it. He said he feels there’s a 95% chance I’m sterile. And I know I am. My gut instinct and woman’s intuition have always told me that, but despite his lame excuses and his games, lies, and the way he jerks me around, God made me how I am for a reason. It’s for a reason. He wanted me this way for a reason and if he feels I should be sterile, so do I.

I would love to know what’s wrong with me. I’m curious to know what it is. Is it my eggs? My uterus? But I’m afraid I won’t have his support. He told me months ago that not only would he make an appointment for himself, but that I should do something about my situation, rather than bitch about it. And now I come to find out that he wants us to screw up a storm first? Fuck that shit! And how he wants me to be tolerant of how he is in bed. So in other words, he wants me to just let him do what he wants to do in bed, and put off going to a doctor for as long as possible, if not forever, right? After getting nowhere with this man year after year as far as finding out what’s wrong with me, I guess I can count on the fact that I’ll never know the cause of my fertility problem. All I can ever know is that there is a problem. But did the DES do it? Did the years of different medications do it? What did it? I know God did it, but what method did he use to ensure my sterility?

What with how I’ve always been cursed with sex, and what with this sterility, like it or not, something up there surely has a beef against my womanhood and sexuality. Something’s really wanted to twist and toy with that and boy has it succeeded!

Tom and I talked more after last night’s bullshit. I got the same old sob story and excuses. He tried to convince me that things aren’t always the way they appear. He said people do tend to get obsessed with believing certain things about people that they see these things in their actions and sometimes they’re not really there. He has a point, but there’s no way I could be that stupid and that wrong about his playing games in bed and about his fearing a child and not wanting that. I don’t know if he knows his true fears and what he really wants, though.

I just know that the more he wants something, the more he puts forth the effort to achieve it. He still claims he wants a kid. Then why has he shown the same lack of desire for sex as I have? Why hasn’t he gone to a doctor? He still swears he wants full-time sex and that we will have full-time sex. How many more years would it have taken for him to see that by his own will and by God’s will and by fate’s will, there’s no way in hell we could ever have had a full-time sex life if we tried? He’s got too many conditions on him as far as sex goes, and our schedules clash a lot. And the excuses he made in bed year after year just got way too old and too obvious too, as far as I’m concerned.

What’s his latest excuse for not going to a doctor? He says he didn’t see any point in going till we had this full-time sex we never could’ve had. When I asked him why he didn’t tell me when he decided this, he said he didn’t want me to get the wrong idea and think it was cuz I wasn’t good enough. Sorry, bad excuse. Say we did miraculously have full-time sex for a while, there’d only be a new excuse. Then he’d find some other reason to put off going to a doctor.

Then he had the nerve to tell me that our sex “didn’t count” till he was able to get on top. It never counts for him. Before he got on top, he said that it “didn’t count” till we were sleeping in the same room. Nothing ever counts for him. Eventually, his getting on top will never count. Well, I hate to tell you this, Tom, but that was a whole two years ago. It’s been two years since you got up top.

He’s the only one I’ve ever heard of who got hard and didn’t cum, then got hard and sometimes came. What normal, red-blooded man does that? One who’s scared of cumming, obviously. All I’ve ever heard of was guys who get hard and cum regularly or those who can’t get an erection. They can’t cum cuz they can’t get hard enough to in the first place. But any man who can get hard can get off. He got hard nearly every time we got together. Last night was one of those nights, though, where he just wasn’t into it and wouldn’t admit it. I got him rock hard by hand, but then when he went to go in there, he got soft. I just couldn’t guide him in there. He was too soft. We went through this twice before I’d finally had enough. I don’t know if it’s to cover his doing this when I was mid-cycle, or if it was cuz of me, but I’ve just had all I can take.

Just cuz I no longer want a child doesn’t mean that I’m not pissed off by the what-ifs. What if I still wanted a child and what if God would’ve allowed me a child, but not without paying for it and working for it by way of a doctor? I wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell with this husband of mine who’s got his head buried so deep in the sand. Who would’ve lied, manipulated, and conned us out of that child. So, even though having a child is no longer a dream of mine, I don’t feel like it’s a dream God and God alone stole, but I feel that he stole it, too. The only way we’d have had a microscopic shot at a child would’ve been through either adoption or a sperm donor if I was miraculously fixed by the doctors. The sperm donor would’ve been more likely since adoption rules are so strict. It’s no wonder there’s a huge waiting list for adoption and it’s no wonder there are so many kids waiting to be adopted. Yes, the world’s full of unwanted children, but they’re asking for the kind of parents/people that are one in millions. Most people aren’t rich, but they mostly want doctors and lawyers. Fuck the secretaries and homemakers. I still say I’d have given them bad vibes, too, and made them wary of allowing us a child. And also, I’d have been judged by my past.

What I’d like to know, God and Tom, is how many more years did you expect me to put up with this shit? Another 5 years? More? Well, my emotions have been strung out to the max with this sex shit.

Fuck sex! Just fucking fuck sex! I’m so sick of being hexed sexually. Anytime I’ve had sex, there’s always a problem. Brenda and Kacey wanted it 24/7. The guys I was with for more than one night all had their little problems. I mean, they were fucking freaks. Maybe they couldn’t help it and maybe I’m being mean and insensitive, but one had a weenie that was practically invisible, one had premature ejaculation, and this one’s so scared it doesn’t cum 98% of the time. If I had been straight all along, God, how many other freaky dicks would you have sent my way? Well, I’m tired of wacky and abnormal sex and it’s been way overdue that I empty the garbage. My way is that if I can’t fix a problem, I throw it in the trash if I can. Kind of like a defective object. If I can’t fix it, or it’s not worth it, I dump it. I couldn’t say to my cigarettes when they first started to give me problems, “You’re a problem, so out you go,” for 15 years, but I eventually took the old trash out and dumped the garbage. It took me 4 months to take out the trash and dump the NHA, and other garbage. Now it’s time to empty this very full garbage can and throw away the sex for good. I cannot stand it anymore. Whether or not I wanted sex and a child tomorrow, I will never again subject myself to God and Tom’s pain and humiliation. Never will I beg my husband for full-time, normal sex and have my emotions toyed with while he knowingly, unknowingly, or both, plays his games with me. Never will I hopelessly fight him year after year for a child just to see him lie and con his way out of that while God watches on and refuses to help me help myself or to help us. Sex can’t be a problem for me if it doesn’t exist. When couples have fights, they should do whatever they can to remove the source of the fighting. I just did.

Later…

I was right. I haven’t been able to shit yet today and I doubt I will and I’m up 5 pounds. 5 fucking pounds in one day! Once again, I’d have to starve completely to lose weight or maybe eat a bite a day and I don’t want to live like that. I can’t lose weight. I won’t lose weight. Period. Once again, got a problem? Get rid of the problem if you can, and in my case, I can quit trying to force my body to be what it can never be, and get on with my life.

That fucking freak of a husband of mine! Oh, I’ve had it! This is it. If he wants sex ever again in his life, he has to do it with someone else. He has to decide whether or not he’s willing to spend his life with me without touching me. I’m sick of his sex games and his trying to pin his problems on me. I’m not responsible for his fears and denial. I don’t know anymore if it’s games, a legit problem that’s out of his control, me, or what. But the point is, he has been a problem with sex since day one and I’m sick of it. I can’t take another 5 years of this shit. I was horny all night and I waited for him to take care of me and he can’t even do that. He’s had his head in the sand and has been in denial since day one. If that’s how he wants it, fine, but he’s not gonna get sex from me anymore. He can get a hooker, a coworker, anyone but me. If he had told me he had a problem up front, which he didn’t, and if he had been willing to own up to it and do something about it, that’d be different.

Later…

I don’t believe it. I actually woke up at 123 pounds. Yeah, but it’s just one of those short-lived, rare moments. I got lucky and happened to shit 4 days in a row and I slept a long time. As soon as I get backed up in shit again, I’ll be back to that famous 124 or higher.

Tom was out from noon to 6 PM today so he couldn’t confirm my bad vibe on next door. Guess there weren’t any music or ball games today, but the weekend’s not over yet.

Tom picked up a thing called Eurosealer. It seals up plastic bags like potato chips and stuff like that.

We talked about getting some type of mace or pepper spray to use on mama bitch and White Paws. Maybe that’s what it’ll take to get rid of them.

We’re also talking about getting the equipment to not only put stuff I have on audio cassette onto CDs, but that can also edit my CDs.

Speaking of CDs, we’re gonna be going out Wednesday so I can pick up some. Some of the old tapes that I’ve had for 10-15 years have had it and I want to see if I can get some of these tapes on CDs.

God, are the weeks flying by! Once again, it seems like it was Monday yesterday. And once again, am I gonna get lucky with next door? It seems like that’d take a miracle.

Andy got a job. Still waitering, of course, at a nearby restaurant.

Later…

The kid and some white girl of the same age that probably belongs to the Lopez’s, are out zipping up and down their carport right alongside our house screaming on little tricycles. Again, it’s better than bass or having a screaming kid in your face 24/7, but this thing’s now at an age where it could become a nuisance throughout the 10-13 months we have left here (Tom thinks we’ll be out of here March of ‘99 and I say June of ‘99). Anyway, this thing’s now around 3 and it doesn’t need much supervision anymore. Well, I guess it can’t zip up and down the carport now cuz its sick fuck of a daddy just slammed in. I wonder if it was sent out for the noise Tom was making working on the door. Well, if that’s the case, wait till Monday, freeloaders! They say they’ll only be banging away for 3 hours, but I’m not stupid. I know it’ll be more like 5-6 hours and I also know that someone is there on Mondays, so it’s not gonna be peaceful for them.

It fucking figures. I woke up at 124 cuz I barely ate yesterday which is nice, but now I can’t shit. Every one to two days I can’t shit. So now I’ll skip shitting for a day or two, then I’ll be forced back up to 127. Something just doesn’t want me losing weight and when you diet, you gotta diet for life. You can’t just diet, then reach your goal weight, then go back to eating how you were before. What I’m saying is, if I have the slightest chance in hell of losing weight, it could only be by eating just a bite a day and I don’t know if I want to live like that. It’s too hard.

Tom insisted I could do aerobics and that I should try to follow along as best I could. It’s the motion that’ll tax my heart that’ll cause my metabolism to rise and for me to lose weight. Well, I’ll do the best I can, but he’s wrong. The only way for me to lose weight is to not eat. Especially since I don’t shit out half the stuff I eat. It’s my time to be big, now.

My arms are kind of a different story than my lower body, as with most women. Yup, I’m actually like most women where our arms are stronger than our lower bodies. In just a few days after I began working my arms, I could see/feel a difference.

There’s another way to tell the two Cocoas apart. Not just by how one has a little patch of white on her belly, but one Cocoa is distinctly bigger than the other.

I have Tweety outside now and boy is he singing up a storm. I wish I could say he was annoying our now door-slamming freeloaders, but I know how much they adore noise.

The AC people are coming Monday between 6:30-7:00 AM so I’ll have to finagle them around my schedule, but doing that for one day won’t kill me. I thought it’d be a 5-hour job, but the woman who called to confirm said it’d be closer to 3 hours without any complications.

I have a lot to say today, but a good chunk of it’s the same old sob story.

First, though, my mother didn’t have back surgery today. Instead, she’s trying a 7-day pill pack and if this doesn’t work, then she’ll have to be put out for the needle in the spine. Guess she’s really doing everything to stall having that surgery.

It’s drizzling out there now. Blackie’s still as friendly as can be, but sometimes too friendly. He claws and gives me little love bites I don’t appreciate. Bunny still runs up to say hi and get his nose patted. And mama bitch and White Paws are still hanging around acting as if they’re a part of the clan. They’re so damn determined to be loved and fed, but it ain’t gonna happen. Sorry God, but I didn’t ask for all these cats. Blackie’s enough.

The AC people came to check the ducts and all that and check things on the roof and give us an estimate. The thing will cost $2,700. I had him thank Mom for me when he called her, and I’ll call her, too.

Tom worked on the security door, too, and I saw the bitch come in while he was working on it, but the bitch didn’t see me. No freeloaders have seen me since the freeloader’s December birthday party that I know of. They may have heard me, though. Speaking of hearing, I know they had to have heard the activity going on over here, and if Tom’s right about them giving noise if they get noise from here, then I’m sure I’ll be paid back in some way shape or form. I hope they remember that that means they have to lose sleep and they must’ve when I’d make a racket, cuz why else would God have given me trouble sleeping there for a while? Just for trying? Just for hoping to wake them up and have them get the message? Maybe, but if I’ve got to lose a little sleep, which I’m not anymore by the way, then I will.

Later…

Here we go again. Time to play the let’s-wait-on-Andy game. I told him I’d call him back after I finished working out, and where is he? Tied up on the phone. He just can’t stay off the fucking phone for a lousy 10 minutes! Well, I’m just gonna go about my routine as usual. I’m not putting my night on hold for him. And if he calls too late, too bad. He may not have a life, but I do.

Coordinated my ass! Tom said I’d have no problems doing aerobics. Well, I’ve got news for him cuz I couldn’t do one thing they did. They change routines so fast that I couldn’t keep up with them. Just when I’d get used to one move, if I was lucky, they’d be off to another move. Half the time I couldn’t even see what they were doing from the waist down, too, cuz the camera would be on their upper bodies.

I’ve been on this trying-to-lose-weight trip for too long. I should’ve followed my gut instinct when it first told me I wouldn’t and couldn’t ever be thin again. Guess there is something normal about me after all. Your average middle-aged adult is heavy and so am I. Everything’s going as I predicted. If I could lose this weight, I’d have lost it by now. It’s mine to keep, plus any more that God decides to add on. I’m his little puppet and there’s nothing I can do about it but accept it. I’ll keep doing the isolation exercises cuz they help my back to feel better, but that’s about it. I lost about an inch from the hips and waist and that’s where it stops. I’m still gaining weight and I still have a huge stomach and huge thighs. I did all I could realistically do, I lost the battle which was never mine to win in the first place, and now it’s time to move on. I’m not gonna make the same mistake I did with the woman, singing, and the kid and let something I can’t change ruin my life and drag me down. I can still live a healthy, productive life as a heavy woman.

I’ve got to stop making the mistake of getting cigarettes thinking I can go back to smoking and trying to go back to smoking. For so many years I asked myself how I could get off of those things. And last night I asked myself how could I have started in the first place. And how could I rehook myself? Well, I can’t. It’s just too gross. It tastes and smells like shit and it upsets my stomach. I don’t want my old lungs back, anyhow. I wanted my old body back. But I can’t have it. Not now. Not ever. I’m older now and being heavy is a fact of life for those who are older and who don’t smoke. So whenever that or anything else gets me down, I remind myself of the wonderful things I do have. I have a wonderful husband and life. I have great animals. Well, I wouldn’t consider two of these three cats as great, and Tweety’s not all that great, either.

Later…

I talked to Andy. All’s still the same with him, but at least he’s now trying to get a job.

Later…

Good evening, freeloaders. Yes, it just came slamming in and the security light’s still dead.

I made Jen a confirmation card on the computer. I called her too, and she says she doesn’t know much about her confirmation, just that she’s done what she needs to do and is glad it’s over. She didn’t pay attention, she says, but she had to attend classes for two hours every Sunday for a year and do community service. It’s a silly ritual like baptizing and bar mitzvahs, etc.

I called Larry at work, but he was in a meeting.

Tom’s talked with an AC company. They’re gonna come out and give us an estimate tomorrow afternoon.

Last night really sucked. I was depressed, frustrated, and so confused. Once again, I can just accept the fact that I’ll never be thin again, I can go back to smoking, I can take laxatives, or I can stop eating. I know the signs of defeat. I know the patterns and when it’s a no-win situation. This is just like with the woman, the singing, the kid, etc. If I were smart I’d just live life as I normally would and not worry about that or what I eat and not waste my time exercising, cuz these pounds and inches aren’t going nowhere.

Tom suggested I do this half-hour program that’s on Monday - Friday that does high-energy aerobics. He says the exercises I do may shape and tone, but this will make me lose weight and have more energy. Right! Like God’s really gonna let this work for me? I don’t think so! Meanwhile, I’m doing it and giving it my all, just to show him it won’t work for me.

I finally took a shit, so now I can look forward to not doing that again till Thursday or Friday.

Later…

OK, the freeloaders should be tucked in for the night and that should be the last of the door slamming, although it’s still been mild. They’ve slammed doors much more often and much louder in the past than they have been.

The mutually sick Lopezs were a whole different story. Again, thank you God for sterilizing me! Those fucking kids, who usually don’t get on my nerves all that bad being two houses away, were screaming bloody murder, and that, of course, got the dogs going. It was a fucking circus from over there. If only they didn’t get the monkey bars and basketball hoop out back. They never used to play in back. Only up front and you couldn’t really hear them well unless you went outside, and we never sit out front. We use the backyard for whatever. Although, if they hadn’t gotten the hoop, they’d be here using the freeloaders more often.

Later…

And the kids are still screaming their heads off. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the Ms were back, but then again, those could be heard inside the house. Well, thank God these things can’t be heard in here, and anything’s better than bass.

I could’ve sworn I saw Blackie start to screw White Paws. Why couldn’t they both have been males? Now I’ve got two cats’ worth of litters to relocate.

I’m about a week away from doing these isolation exercises and where have I gone? Up two pounds. I should be really proud of myself. I worked for it, so I earned it.

Later…

God, I’m sick of this unavailable shit! Of course, they don’t leave messages and if you do pick up on one of them, they usually hang up. What was 2-3 unavailables a day has turned into 5-6. What? First God got me back from waking up people with prank calls by taking away my sleep and now he’s bugging me with calls to make up for those that I bugged with calls? Meanwhile, Andy gets to get away with it. He never had to have his sleep stolen and he never gets all these fucking calls. Although some girl that wacko Karson knew was bugging him, and Laura’s druggie friends bug him, too, with their calls.

I also asked my mom if I had false memory syndrome, or did her mother have something to do with ballet? She said yes, she taught ballet and modern dancing for years. That’s so hard to picture. I’ve only known Nana as a big, fat, old woman. You’d never know, knowing her as I did, that she ever danced. And all the while she’d taunt me about my weight. As if she was oh so thin herself. I hated her. I loved her, but I mostly hated her. She’s a major reason for my mother being the way she’s been.

She said Papa Joe was a nice man whom she never heard anyone utter a bad word about. I had asked her to tell me more about my grandparents and great-grandparents. She said she’d discuss this with me in person, cuz I’d have questions. She said dad’s like his dad was. Then what happened to Marty? I guess we really are individuals, cuz my dad and his brother are as opposite as my dad and mom can be. Marty and I may be on stable terms right now, but this guy’s still an asshole in general. He’s insensitive, he’s aggressive, and he’s violent. Philip said he fathered a lot like my mother mothered and I believe him. I’ve seen Marty push him around, I’ve been slapped and threatened by him, so I know how he is. Both my uncles have always been one and the same.

The weather here has been unbelievable. It’s cool and a bit rainy too, which Tom says is unusual for this time of year. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it was February or March out there and not May.

Ma got her card and reacted as I predicted. She said I was lucky I was not near her! She also said it was a clever idea that she may steal.

I looked up last Memorial Day and there was no freeloader shit. Remember, though, things were a bit different back then, so I’m sure I can count on them rounding up kids to play ball for me for a good 3 hours.

Tom swears they won’t get a dog cuz they’re not allowed to. Well, I hope he’s right, cuz she can’t be that weary of breaking rules. Not with that cock over there. It doesn’t belong and I’m sure high school boy doesn’t either. I don’t know exactly how many sickos are over there, but I’ll bet it’s only supposed to be the bitch and kid.