Bandit died. Now I’m down to four mice - Patch, Cocoa, Katie and Ashley. Lost four mice this month alone, and I can’t believe Cocoa’s still alive. I guess her tumor isn’t squishing against any vital organs.

I’m making some chicken wings now.

Supposedly, Andy’s coming over today at 1:00. I got up at 2:00, so I’ll be a little tired then, but still functional enough. I left him a message telling him to just come over at 1:00, but I know I have to get a zillion phone calls about it before then.

Later...

Finished another puzzle. Later, I’ll begin the one Tom picked out for me a few days ago.

Someone was playing car alarm a block or so away. You know, I’m really surprised the freeloaders haven’t harassed me with car alarms and car horns. You’d think that people who are desperate for attention, especially my attention, would do other things besides just music, dogs, screaming, and ball games.

I totally dread this Easter Sunday. Right now, although it’s awfully soon, I don’t have a bad vibe. The question is, if they do raise hell am I gonna be able to keep my promise to Tom and restrain from beating the shit out of them? Well, they’d have to be incredibly stupid to blast in and out like they did last Easter. I mean, they’d really have to not give a shit about losing the house. I’m sure there’ll at least be hours of yelling and ball games.

We have between 14-22 weekends left here. If we’re here till September 1st, then that’s 22 weekends left. If we get out as early as the beginning of July, that’s 14 weekends left. We’ll probably really have something like 17-19 more to go, provided things keep working out for us. But damn! That’s about a month’s worth of weekends left - yuck!

Later...

Just got call number one from Andy, but what made it cool is that he met Stevie Nicks. He told me, “I’m not gonna tell you any details till I come over at 1:00, but I met Stevie Nicks last night. And Cheryl Crow. I knew it. I told him I knew he’d meet Stevie someday. Somehow, I just knew it was inevitable. It was destined that they meet if only once, if only for a second.

I told him I’d tell him about the manufactured homes on Tuesday (my best phone day) since he’d no doubt be understandably excited and not let me get a word in edgewise, but he said his story would only take about 20 minutes. Well, it takes however long it takes. I’m happy for him and excited to hear about this.

Later...

Just thought I’d write while I wait for Andy. Of all the times I hated how Andy has shown up late in the past, I kind of hope he’s late today. If he has to leave in time for his 2:30 appointment, then the later he is, the less time he’s here. I can’t believe he hasn’t called me a second time, but he will. He’ll probably call right before or right after 1:00 to needlessly say he’s on his way. Wouldn’t be surprised if he brought food over, too. Since I’ve pointed out his overeating, that’s all the more he’ll mention food.

Tom said they’re doing something to replace pap smears, but he’s not sure what. It has something to do with grapefruit. Sounds lovely.

Anyway, Tom came in, ate, unwound in front of the TV, took a dump, and now he’s in bed.

I had a vision that our land would be prepped and that it was in Maricopa. I saw an old, small, white wooden house off in the distance and another one I couldn’t see, but that’s it. I could only see two sides of the house. The other two sides are blurred. I saw us in the house we like best so far (the one we saw the last time we looked), but these visions, sadly, are subject to change. Anything could come up to trip things up. So far, though, God’s paving the way for us just nicely. The biggest factor in what we can get lies within how much of a loan we can get, as well as the stocks. We certainly can’t count on selfish Marjorie, even though we’ve helped her. That bitch is too wrapped up in herself. Well, I just hope we won’t have to settle, although nothing we could move into could be a settlement compared to this house and this area. Even if it was the same exact house we live in now; just to be more secluded, would be way better. To not have a pack of sick freeloaders three feet away. To not have a basketball hoop three feet away. To not have a street full of bass bangers fifteen feet away. To not have to listen to this dog somewhere in front that I hear barking non-stop right now. Still, even if we do have to settle for a smaller house within the $50,000 range, it’ll still be bigger and nicer than this house and it’ll have at least three bedrooms and two baths.

About 90% of the time, the front is quiet dog-wise. It fucking figures that a dog has to act up non-stop when I’m expecting company.

I called and rescheduled my appointments with Mel and the Doctor for April 7th. I know it’s hit or miss, though, as far as if I’ll be able to go to this appointment, but things turned out for the better. It would’ve been hard on me to go to them today at 11:00 and spend an hour and a half there since I got up at 8:00 the night before.

Minnie’s still trying desperately to get me.

There was a message to call Dr. Wells to get a message left for me. Can you believe they’re telling me now, that the IVP test that I took last December came out OK? I know, though, that this is cuz I quit on them and never rescheduled to resume the baby quest. Once again, though, not only is there no baby to be had with the way God’s dead-set in his decision about that, and with Tom’s fears/stubbornness/resistance, but each day that passes, I feel more and more sure I don’t want a kid. I tell Tom I’ll probably have in vitro a couple of years after we move just to please him, cuz I know how much he likes it when I leave doors open, but I know better. Not only do I not want to put myself through any more physical shit that’s not medically necessary, I just don’t want the burdens and responsibilities of a kid, even if I thought I could handle them. I want my freedom and my life with my husband. And when my husband’s not around, I like my space so I can do the things I enjoy doing. No, I don’t fear conceiving naturally, regardless of the fact that Tom won’t cum. I trust that especially after not getting pregnant during the five years I’ve been with Tom, God wouldn’t do that to me and let that happen. Since it’s never happened yet, I know he’s looking out for me and that he’d never give me more than I could handle. He’s obviously taken serious measures to see that I have a life filled with freedom, security, and happiness, so I don’t see why he’d suddenly take that away from me. Not after all the shit I’ve already been through. Compensation’s well due to me after all the years I didn’t have freedom or happiness.

The pest is supposed to come over this morning when he gets up, but we’ll see. I’m sure that if he does, we’ll have to play phone 3-4 times leading up to this grand visit.

You know, I wonder if we’ll even be local calls to each other when we move? Maybe it’ll be a long-distance call for him, but I don’t know. I still think it’d be best for both of us if I just made a clean break. I can’t offer him the kind of things he wants in a friend, and to me, he’s nothing but a pest most of the time.

We went looking at this other manufactured home dealer, and sometime within the next two weeks, we’ve got one more place to look (there are three makers in AZ - Shultz, Cavco, and ?). The first place we went to had the Shultz homes and this place had Cavco. The next place we go to will have all three brands, so then we can really compare the differences.

At this place, we were shown around, rather than told to just go look at the models ourselves, but the woman did leave us alone for a while before we met with her again and talked with her in her office. Unlike the other place, she gave us a listing of land available in different areas surrounding the city. This should be really helpful to us too, cuz I know Tom was having trouble finding this online.

Later...

Gosh, our weather’s been on a New England roller coaster lately. It’s gonna be near 90º today, but by Thursday, it’ll be down to the mid-60s.

Anyway, for $14,000 less, we found a home we like better than that beautiful $79,000 one we saw. The only thing that’s not as nice is its kitchen, but that’s OK. You don’t live in the kitchen. However, it did have that nice light wood color I like that’s almost like a crème color. The cabinet doors were also nicer, too. Its glass doors had gorgeous stained glass-like flowers in them. It’s a double-wide and not a triple-wide, yet the rooms are larger. I also liked how the return air grills are in the bottoms of the doors, rather than above the doors. That ought to cut down on light. I like to sleep in total darkness if I can.

I like this $65,000 model better cuz of the way it’s laid out and the way the rooms are proportioned. Again, the master bedroom is at one end of the house, and the other bedrooms are at the other end of the house. This house is 76’ long and 27’ wide at 2026 square feet. The other more expensive one was the same in width, but only 64’ long. In this house, the living room and family room are a little smaller, but not by much. The extra room is made up in the bedrooms, and that’s where space really counts for our needs and what we want to do with the rooms. We really want four bedrooms. That way we can have a master bedroom, a guest bedroom, and a room for each of our computers and other things.

I just paused to call Andy to see if he was up. He wasn’t, so I let him know he can just call right before he’s on his way out the door to come over. He doesn’t need to call to tell me he just woke up, then a half-hour later to say he’s getting ready, then an hour later to say he’s on his way. However, I know him and how he loves to play phone, so I’m sure there’ll be at least two calls before he gets here. Of course, I told him to call and let me know if he needs to cancel as well.

We looked at a five-bedroom/three-bath and weren’t the least bit impressed. The rooms were much smaller. One of the bathrooms had a vent right smack in the middle of its doorway just inside it. Imagine the toes waiting to get stubbed on this thing. Still, the smallest house they got blows this one away in size and with its modern stylishness. This Cavco brand may allow us to rig an evaporative cooler to it, too.

The first place we went to had nothing but models. You don’t buy the ones you see. You order them from their factory. This place, though, does both. If you see a model you like and you like it as is, you can buy it as a cookie-cutter. They’ll even throw in the pictures they used to decorate it with if you want. I like how you can get appliances as options, too. That way, instead of buying a house that’s already built and sitting wherever it’s at, then having to haul in new appliances, you can just get everything all at once. Tom even says he’s gonna set up a couple of sheds for his junk upon moving, too. That’d be great! His junk alone would fill up all three bedrooms at the end of the house. He’s only gonna keep the things he needs and uses regularly inside the house.

This kitchen had a see-through skylight, and I believe you can get skylights in the bathroom, too, although I don’t see why that’d be necessary. I like how there were ceiling fans in every room. You can get a see-through fireplace put in the wall that divides the family room and living room, but for Arizona, I don’t think that’d be necessary. I like the closets better in this one, too. It had a regular rod for hanging clothes and regular shelves. No wire shelves which you also use for hanging clothes. The master bedroom was so cool. Way better than the other one. It had what’s called a retreat. A large open area off of the main part of the room itself. I haven’t decided what I’ll do with this area yet, but I’ll probably put the animals in the dining area, use the family room as a living room with the couch, recliners, TV, and the living room for doll-making and whatever other projects we may want to do. Another good thing about this house is that it takes 6 weeks to set up, rather than 9, but we still have to prep and sell this house and probably still won’t be out of here till July or August. The woman we spoke to knows the area we live in and says our house ought to sell fast. That’s what Tom says, too. He wonders if we can get an investor to pay cash for it like they did for his ma’s house. That’d be nice.

Other options (this will be the fun part unless we get a cookie-cutter house) will be picking out drapes, carpet, the outside color of the house, and so much more. Tom said as long as we get the cabinets we like, carpet and paint colors don’t matter that much, cuz they’re easier and cheaper to change compared to cabinets. I like how these had Formica countertops without the tile accents. I’m sick of tile! It’s so hard to clean in between the fucking things.

Later...

It’s almost 9:30. I know the morning’s not over yet, but it figures I haven’t heard from Andy yet, and I’m sure his definition of a morning visit is really a noon visit or later.

Later...

See? It’s doing just what I knew it’d do. It called to say it just woke up, and I reminded it that it didn’t have to call till it was on its way out the door. And of course, our morning visit turned into an afternoon one. It won’t be here till between 11:30-noon, so it says. It mentioned wanting to water its yard, and food, as usual. Why has this guy turned into such a pig? I mean, all he does is eat and eat and eat. I think he’s trying to get fat so he can feel like he has more in common with Michelle since he sees her more than he sees me. One thing I’ve noticed about Andy is that he’s very big on finding common ground with those he’s close to. If I played any instrument other than the keyboards perfectly, he’d still insist I was best at the keyboards cuz that’s his favorite instrument.

Despite his selfish ways lately, he did ask about our trip to look at homes yesterday, which was thoughtful of him. I’m surprised he remembered. He also said that for a quarter, he picked up a People magazine with Gloria on the cover at a yard sale the other day. That was nice of him, too.

Later...

I knew it. I just knew it. I’ll bet he did too, all along. Andy called wanting to know if it’d be OK if he could come over tomorrow at 1:00 instead, then go to a 2:30 dentist appointment in this area, since he doesn’t want to take his car out more than necessary. Also, he could come over, but would rather hang out at his place. Sure, no problem, I told him. He asked if I was upset. No, but I am sick of having to make a big production out of getting together. I told him I’d call to let him know if I was sure I could have him over at 1:00 tomorrow, and that if I was, he didn’t have to call. He could just come over at 1:00. Knowing him, though, we’ll have to play phone over it all fucking morning long and make such a big deal of it.

No freeloaders this weekend, as far as any shit from them goes.

About an hour ago, I was coming out of the shower when someone based by really fucking loud. The first thing I thought to myself was, if that car goes next door, I will sink my fist so deep into the driver’s face, but it didn’t. It could’ve been caddie kid, although he hasn’t been a regular attention-getter around here lately. I didn’t get to the window in time to see who it was, but I checked the whole length of the freeloader’s driveway and carport to be sure there was no car over there.

I did as I said I’d do, and not only did I refuse to give Andy the satisfaction of acknowledging his chewing message, but I cried foul machine this weekend. I told him people have said they’ve left messages that we haven’t gotten for the last few days. He didn’t mention Saturday’s message in his reply to me. Just that he called Sunday morning, but I obviously didn’t get the message. You could hear the oh-too-bad in his voice, too. He’s totally bummed that I didn’t get the message, and I thought for a minute there that he was actually gonna come out and say, “Oh, bummer. I really wanted you to hear me chewing in your ear just so I could piss you off and gross you out.”

The next chewing message, I’m gonna tell the truth - that as soon as I heard one chew, I erased the message. Better yet, I’ll just keep my mouth shut for the next four or five months and let him read that I erased his chewing messages if he reads anything I send him after we move. Any mail that gets forwarded to the new house from him or from family in the east will be marked “return to sender.”

Anyway, the little twerp’s message this morning, which was left a few hours before I crashed, was about him wanting to come over and maybe go to yard sales, too. He just doesn’t get it. The fucking idiot just doesn’t listen to a damn thing I say, nor does the little shit care. It’s like, hello! Hello, you stupid fuck! It’s like he can’t accept the fact that I don’t do weekend company and phone chats. He refuses to accept it.

Anyway, he mentioned Tuesday morning, which so far as it looks, should be a good time for us to visit. Of course, I know we’ve got to play phone leading up to it and make such a big deal out of a simple little visit. There’s always gotta be a big production. Can’t just make up his mind to do something, and just do it. Not all of it’s his fault, though. He can’t help it if our schedules clash. I told him, though, that if he can’t get over here for whatever reason in the next week or two, we’ll drop the comforter off at his place since we’ll be in that area checking out manufactured homes.

If he wants to feel insulted by my dumping him this summer - fine. I feel just as insulted by him and his selfishness. Maybe this will teach him a valuable lesson as far as just how selfish he is. He just won’t budge an ounce for someone he calls his friend. He doesn’t need me, anyway, any more than I need him. I mean, we have nothing to offer each other. What can I offer him? A place to surf the web periodically? A place to get his buttons sewn on once or twice a year? What else? That’s it. I can’t and or won’t get high with him, spend hours a day on the phone with him, pig out with him, go to Stevie concerts with him, etc. Getting stoned, stuffing his face, and yacking forever on phones is his thing, not mine. I’m just fed up with him trying to force his ways on me while he couldn't care less about my wants. Everything’s only what he wants. Call me selfish, spoiled, childish - I’m done with Andy come what July or August! I’m not gonna be any truer of a friend than he’s been.

Later...

I took my wind chimes down from outdoors and put one of them in the rat’s cage. They seem to enjoy playing with it.

This morning I’ve got to call and play appointment games with the fucking dentist, but did Mel cancel our appointment today at 11:00, too? Or just the doctor? Well, I’m gonna try to reschedule both of them for later this week, cuz this morning, we plan on looking at manufactured houses in this neighborhood.

A hilarious idea came to mind earlier that had me laughing to myself. I just might do it, too. I plan on not telling Bob our new address and number anyway, so the idea is to tell him (he’s a sucker for believing anything), that we’re gonna be living in a house back there that belongs to a cousin of mine (Larry’s) who’ll be vacationing in some other country from when we move till about six months later. So I’ll tell him from July until the New Year. At the turn of the century, we’ll return to Phoenix. Meanwhile, from July to the new year, I’ll tell him he can send any letters to me to the address I give him, which will be Larry’s. Larry ought to get a kick out of that. That’ll keep him guessing and wondering, alright. I’ll let Kim know what I plan on doing, and I’ll get started with planting the idea into Bob’s head now with a letter to him today. That way, I can hear what he has to say about it before I disappear, and of course, I’ll promise to visit him, too.

Later...

In case I haven’t already mentioned it - I straightened Rapunzel’s hair. Before, it was really wavy and fell to her ankles, but now it’s a few inches past her feet. However, I’m not overly impressed with it, so now I’m gonna crimp it.

Tom got in about an hour ago and is now napping till 9:00 when we go to look at homes.

I called the dentist to hear what hours their machine says they open. They open at 8:30 today and as early as 7:15 on other days.

I realized that the day I was woken up by the gold car’s stereo two weeks ago, was the first and last time I ever saw that car. How much you want to bet on what happened? Bet it goes like this - the people in the gold car recently met either the bitch or the cock and a “friendship,” if you can call it that, was just starting up, when the bitch, not wanting to but needing to for the sake of keeping the house, asked them not to blast in like that. What did she get? A reaction that didn’t fit the request. They reacted as if she asked them to do something far out, totally unreasonable, and insane. They reacted like she asked them to kill their family. Therefore, they no doubt said, fuck it. We’ll never come back here again if that’s the way you want it. You’d never know they were asked a simple, reasonable, legitimate request.

I’m gonna wait till after the cock comes to get the mistake, then I’m gonna go out and snap a picture of Bill’s car. Unfortunately, I may only be able to get the tail end of the car, cuz it looks like he’s parked a little deeper than usual in the carport today. That’ll be my final contribution to the freeloaders picture-wise.

Later...

The cock came early today, at 7:35, so I went out a few minutes later to shoot the picture. It wasn’t a great shot, but it was good enough. You can tell what it is. I got at least half the car. The recycle bin was in front of it, too.

Last night was the final straw with Andy. I mean, I have absolutely fucking had it with you, Andy! You selfish, spoiled rotten pest! You are like a bad cold that just won’t quit. A bad zit that just won’t fucking go away. Some friend you are Andy. Some true friend.

Let me start from the beginning before I get into what I’ve decided to do about Andy and why I’ve decided to do what I’m gonna do, although that ought to be obvious enough.

I told Andy I’d call him Sunday evening about doing his buttons then and told him for the zillionth time that weekends aren’t good for me. He says, “Well, you never know,” and I’m thinking to myself, yes, I do know, but of course, there’s no getting that through his thick skull. Of course, he can’t come over just to see me. He can only come over if he wants something.

Red Lobster called today asking why he didn’t show up for work. Way to go Andy. Way to go. Now you’re gonna lose this job too?

Anyway, I’ve had it with his selfishness and with his obvious desire to deliberately, knowingly, and intentionally do things that he knows damn well annoy the fuck out of me! He left a message chewing in my ear. As soon as I heard this, though, I erased the message. Wouldn’t even listen to another word of it. I won’t give Andy the satisfaction of acknowledging I got this chomping message of his, either. I’ll let the little pig know I didn’t hear from him all weekend, which I found to be odd since I know he loves to call when I’d rather him not.

Like I said, it’s way more than obvious that he wants me to bitch at him for doing simple little things I ask him politely not to do. He wants to irk me. Well, I’m sorry, but this is not a true friend as far as I’m concerned, and from here on out till we move, I’m just gonna have as little to do with him as possible, then I’m gone. He’s finally succeeding in pushing me away. This time around, I’m not even gonna bother to ask him for the zillionth time to please not gross me out on the phone and chew in my ear like that. He won’t give a shit. It won’t do me any good. So, instead of trying to change him, I’m just gonna leave him as he is just like I did with Doe and company, let him be myself, then I’m gone and then I can associate with others that are true to me. I try to compromise with him by letting him call any day, but he can’t even not eat on the phone with me? He can’t get me even that much? Well, fuck him then! Fuck him! I asked him a reasonable, simple little thing, and if a friend can’t do a little thing like that, they’re not a friend at all. This self-absorbed, stuck-up little snot just isn’t my type anymore. Except for his pot and his negativity, he was once the perfect friend for me. We had lots in common. But now, I can’t stand his constant calls, his selfishness, and all the other shit I’ve been putting up with. Makes me wonder - has he been trying to get me to dump him all along? Andy may have shit for memory, but he’s not stupid. He has to know what he’s been doing deep down what with his selfishness, etc. He won’t come see me unless he wants something, he won’t feed my animals if we go on a trip, he won’t pull in any packages that may come while we’re on a trip, he won’t give me the fucking weekend off from the phone, he won’t quit chewing in my ear, he won’t stop calling me constantly, and he won’t stop rambling and listen to a fucking word I have to say when we do talk. I’m sorry, but I don’t think the things I’ve asked of him were too much or too difficult to do. I didn’t ask for a zillion hard tasks. I just asked for a few simple ones, but everything’s Andy, Andy, Andy. Even he’s told me he’s basically gonna do what he wants and not give a shit about what others want. No wonder he’s alone. How could he ever be in a successful relationship? He won’t do shit for others, and if he does, it’s only if he can get something out of it. How much you want to bet that if Andy was offered money to not chew in my ear - no problem.

This probably won’t do me any good, since he never gave a damn about reading the journal I wrote him for a previous birthday of his, but I’ve done for him what I’ve done for the freeloaders and I’ve assembled together journal excerpts that go back to around the fall of ‘97 that I’ll mail him upon moving (along with his tape of calls left to him on his voice mail). This way, if he has any questions about why I’ve walked away from him, he can read all about it, not that I haven’t gone over this same old shit with him for how long now?

I don’t hate Andy. I will always love him and carry him within my thoughts for the rest of my life. However, I don’t like him, and while he may have no self-respect, I do. I think I deserve friends who are sober and who have a fair balance of give-and-take within them. I will miss him when I’m gone and I will always wish/hope for the best for him in work, love, health, home, friends, happiness, etc., but I also need to move on here. He has a right to be himself and so do I. I have to do what I have to do and cut people like this out of my life. If he wants to be a selfish loser, let him be. Like he can’t call Michelle every day? Isn’t she enough? He said they talk every day, so why does he have to call me every day? Michelle’s perfect for him. More perfect than I ever was cuz she’s a pothead along with him and she eats like a pig too.

Anyway, I’m just too good for him in my mind, and that’s being a selfish, conceited bitch myself, then that’s exactly what I am, and I, like Andy, have no regrets about how I am. He shouldn’t really miss me, when I think about it, anyway. Why should he? We have nothing in common anymore.

When it does come time to move and check him out of my life, I’ll block Marla from emailing me, cuz although I know she understands my feelings/frustrations with Andy, I don’t want her constantly emailing me telling me to get back with him. I respect her and Andy, but like I said, I have to do what I have to do. Come this summer - it’s my time to be selfish. The last thing I want is for my life in my new home to be marred by his constant calls and annoyances. I’m not gonna have as much time then to play phone with him, cuz I really believe deep down that I will be a doll maker. At least, there’s no reason that I can see as to why I couldn’t be. It’s a pretty cut-and-dry thing. I feel God’s on my side with that one, but if it turns out he’s not, I’ll still want to live my life in my new home, which will be busier with lots of things, without him pestering me and making me feel like he doesn’t give a shit about me.

In dumping Andy, I won’t have to worry about him giving our new address or number to Tammy, cuz she will try to find me. At least, I think she will, cuz Tammy doesn’t give up or let go of people too easily. Andy, being the wonderful, true friend that he is, wouldn’t respect my wishes and not give her any info. He’d do what he thought should be done. Of course, if they do find me, that doesn’t mean I have to acknowledge them, either. I can still ignore them and go my own way. Perhaps a lot of people would say that what I intend to do by walking away from Andy is wrong and cruel, but sorry, I feel like I’ve been pushed away. Totally driven away. But I don’t want to play blame and fault here. Like I said, Andy’s who he is whether or not I like it and he has a right to live his life without people asking him to change things, even if they are few and simple little changes, and I have a right to live my life as I see fit.

Enough of Andy for now, cuz I swear, if I think of him anymore, I’ll scream! I am sick to death of him!

Later...

I got new cartridges for the air fresheners. The old ones were dry and cracked, which would explain why we haven’t been able to smell them very well. Walgreens, where Tom went earlier, didn’t have any scents I haven’t tried yet, so he got scents I already have and three free plug-ins. Now I have six plug-ins. I have strawberry in the music room and living room, country garden in the bedroom, and tropical mist in the bathroom and back room.

Tom looked online and discovered that there are stores in Phoenix that sell realistic-looking body parts like what was used to make Bailey. That’s a good sign. He found all kinds of parts and kits.

Speaking of signs, Tom didn’t want to tell me till he found out for sure, but we now have the money to do the prep jobs we need to do in this house cuz he got approved for a new credit card. He said we’d have come up with the money anyway, but if an emergency expense had come up, it could’ve fucked us out of getting out of here in July or August.

Tom's online now looking up different things.

We just got done screwing. It was predictable, but not disastrous. At first he didn't seem into it. His movements were sluggish. Then he was panting away and moving in a way that suggested he'd cum, but he didn't.

My vibe says we will be out of here in July or August. Tom said he’s 95% sure we will be out of here in July or August. My logic says no way. He went to his ma’s today and tried to discuss our moving, but as usual, she was too preoccupied with her own damn self, but no matter how much money was available to us, I still don’t see how the hell we’re gonna get this placed prepped by late May to put it up for sale at that time. I hope to hell my vibes are right and my logic’s wrong. Still, I’m gonna try to write off moving this summer from my mind. Logically speaking, October or November should be when we’ll move, although I strongly don’t sense that at all. I hope I can trust Tom to know what he’s talking about, but like I said, he’s notorious for overestimating himself and for biting off more than he can chew, and even he himself admitted this a long time ago.

It still really pisses me off to know there’s no counting on Marge to help us get out of here on time, after all the help we’ve given her. Just when is this woman going to die? Not soon enough! By God, not soon enough!

Later...

Andy wants buttons sewn on his pants, and the dentist wants to reschedule me. I don’t know when a good time to do Andy’s pants will be, due to how my schedule is now. I left him a message to get back to me about it. As for the dentist, I’m sorry Doc Smith had to have eye surgery, but I’m tired of these people having to reschedule me. My schedule was perfect for this Monday, but now I have to play appointment games with them all over again. Will I ever again be able to see these people when scheduled?

Tom picked me up an appetite suppressant, but it’s too soon to say how helpful if at all, it is.

I straightened Rapunzel’s hair the other day. It was very wavy and fell to her ankles. After I straightened it, it was a few inches past her feet.

I sent Nickolena more doll pictures, as well as doll pictures for Paula, who says she’s gonna get into collecting, too.

Paula claims she got a doll that’s “as long as your arm falls” for just $7. No fucking way, although I asked that she send me one and I’ll send her money for it. I won’t count on it, though! She also says that she’s been busy, but hasn’t forgotten about the pictures she says she’s sending me.

Andy’s filing job ended. What’s he gonna do now?

He keeps saying everything will work out alright as far as getting out of here in July or August, but how? How can we get the time and money to do all the prep work we need to do? Tom says he makes a thousand dollars every two weeks, but still, how’s he gonna get the time? He says to trust him and that he intends to “plant seeds” in his mother’s mind about giving us money, but I don’t know. I still think she won’t give us any money till after we move, whenever we move. Or after she dies. Marjorie, you fucking bitch! We spend time and money moving you, but do you care to help us? No, of course not, you selfish user!

Even Mary’s tried talking to her about how it’s nice that she gives money when people need it (sometimes), but what about giving money out of the blue? Does there always have to be a reason? But Marge just doesn’t give a shit.

Thank God Tom got up when I went to make iron-on T-shirts, cuz without his help, the shirts would’ve been a total bust. I did most of the work myself, but he had to help with a few pictures. He really saved the shirts! I did two animal shirts for myself of past and present animals. There’s Piggy, Velvet, Measles, Spunky, Patch, Cocoa, Katie, Ashley, Ratsy, Butterscotch, Porky, Mickey, Bunny, and Shiny. Then I did a T-shirt for Mary with a family picture that Tom printed out for her months ago.

Later...

What? First my lungs are tight and now my voice is tight? It felt like someone was choking me when I was singing a little while ago. I swear, there’s always a problem when I sing! Can’t God just give me an ability and let me use it with no restrictions?

Guess the renters aren’t gonna hang out front and play car tonight.

I made another animal T-shirt and I like the way it came out.

Minnie tried twice more to reach me. She left a message too, saying to call her and she left her number. No thanks. I’ve got nothing to say and phones bore me. No offense, Minnie, but I just don’t have the patience to sit on the phone anymore. It was even hard for me back when I was into phones. Andy would want to stay on for 3-4 hours, but after an hour or two at the most, I’d be bored silly and want to go do something else.

Here’s a classic example of just how unfair life is: Tom and I lose money and time from each other and our lives to help his mother move and see that she’s taken care of for the remainder of her time, but who’ll be there for us when we get too old to fend for ourselves? No one. Absolutely no one.

I rearranged my little drawers last night. I have a set of parts drawers that I store my beads in for the most part, but I also added my sewing stuff to it, too.

The palm tree plant I got from Marge is in such a boring plant holder of brown wicker, so I decorated it with colorful beads.

I’m reading the other Ruby Jean Jensen book now called Night Thunder.

Andy shocked the shit out of me by actually going back to work. Good for him! I didn’t think he would. He said he hates the job for the most part, but he knows he has no choice. He’s alone now in that house and he has to work in order to live.

I totally understood something else he told me. So far, for this job, he’s keeping his mouth shut. Meanwhile, people are taking it the wrong way and considering him stuck up. See? People are just never fucking satisfied with the ways of others. They hate you if you talk, they hate you if you’re quiet. You talk too much, you’re obnoxious. You talk too little, you’re a snob. You talk an average amount, you could be anything! No one’s ever happy. I gave him the same advice, though, about not mixing business with pleasure, keeping quiet, etc., but I also reminded him that he’s not there to please others by talking less or more. He doesn’t owe anyone shit.

Paula left a message yesterday morning saying she just got home after being in jail for three days after being picked up on warrants. What warrants? I’m sure they had to do with fighting, but where’s Justin? Did they take him away? That’s a stupid question, though. You don’t take a kid away from its mother. Not in this country, anyway, no matter what they’ve done. I still can’t believe they took Robert from her, although they definitely did right by doing so. She shouldn’t have Justin either, and if you ask me, if a mother’s not fit to raise one of her kids, she’s not fit to raise the others. I tried calling her back but haven’t reached her yet.

Minnie’s tried calling five times. What is it that she’s so anxious to tell me all of a sudden after so long? Well, it can’t be that important, cuz she hasn’t left a message since the first message she left when she called the first time.

Later...

Guess who came today? Giselle. And of course, she was just about right on time too, since I’ve already got her. A part of me wishes I didn’t have Tom call to try to stop this one from coming, cuz although her side hairs are shorter than her back hairs, I could’ve evened them out for variety. It would’ve still been long. I also could’ve redressed her at some point.

Got only one call from Minnie today.

I finally heard from Kim. She sent me a brief but newsy email saying she was on a cruise for 11 days. If I could only take one more trip in my whole life, I’d want it to be a cruise, but not for that long. Just 2-3 days would be good enough for me. She said she plans on calling me soon. I just tried to reach her but got her machine. I’m looking forward to hearing all about this cruise. I guess she went with her grandmother, but I’m not sure. I don’t know why Walt didn’t go. Guess he had to work, being a dentist and all that.

I decided that instead of keeping a daily weight chart in my miscellaneous file, I’ll record my weight every five days.

I guess I’ve gotten used to the air fresheners since I’m home a lot. Tom says he smells them when he first comes into the house, then he gets used to them. I smell them, but not as much as I did at first.

Once again it’s gonna cool down to the low 70s and it won’t be back to the 80s till Monday. Since we’re gonna be moving this summer, I hope it’s a mild summer, but even a mild summer in Arizona is hot!

Later...

It’s been three hours and I’m still groggy as all hell from the Benadryl I had to take shortly after I got up.

The renters are being their usual strange selves. They’ve had the hood of the red car open for hours now. What work do these seemingly new and good cars need so often? Maybe they’re as hexed with cars as Tom is.

Another week and April will be here. I still worry that there won’t be enough time for Tom to prep this house. Imagine if we really could move in July or August or sooner, but couldn’t cuz he just didn’t have the time to prep the house in order to sell it? That’d really piss me off! A part of it wouldn’t be his fault, either. It’d be the fault of his boss mainly and probably his mother’s, too. My worst fear is that she ends up in the hospital right as we’re about to buy the land and sell this house. Or when we go to prep it. We’ve got about 40 hours’ worth of work to do, maybe more. Tom says it’s no problem, but I fear that for the zillionth time, he’s just overestimating himself. He says he’s gonna get going on the patio roof this weekend. I hope so!

I think Parker and Nickolena’s birthdays are coming up. I forget Parker’s birthday, but I remember Nickolena’s. She’s gonna be five yet it doesn’t seem she’s been around that long. I’m sure it must feel like ten years to Evie, though.

Once again, I find myself wondering why I wanted a kid like I did for a while there. Why would anyone want to put up with so much just to gain so little? Well, it’s better than that awful depression I went through. Crying day after day cuz I knew a child was 100% impossible.

Tom’s trying to tell me that the neighbors around where we’re moving to won’t be like these city animals and that they’ll be the same neighbors in 20 years. Maybe this is so for most people living out where we’re going. I know this is true, but I also know just what the Gods have ordered for me. How much do you want to bet that our nearest neighbor will be one of those few loud, selfish, rude, inconsiderate assholes that belong in cities? And if they are any good, they won’t be our neighbors for 20 years. They’ll move right out as soon as we get there and in will come a pack of bass-thumping freeloaders or a herd of screaming Mormons. Whether they’re white or black, there’ll be some kind of problem, but the idea is to get the bass far enough away from our house so that even if it’s turned up really loud, it can’t wake me up. Not till the stereos that can be heard from state to state get here. I’m not stupid. I know it’s just a matter of time - it may take ten years - before the noise catches up to our house.

We did it his way in this house with these neighbors, but I’m gonna tell you something right now. I promise this to myself, to him, to anybody that’d listen, we’re doing it my way with the next neighbors. As soon as they get close enough and loud enough to be a problem, I’m going after them myself in my own way. I’m not gonna ask the city or anyone else to take care of the problem for me. I don’t like to operate that way and have others fight my battles for me. So in other words, I’ll want to beat the living shit out of them and make sure that the first time they harass me is the last time.

Later...

Good, God! The renters are still working on their cars (the maroon one came to join the red one). They’ve been gunning the engine on one of them for several minutes now. They’ve been working on these cars now for six hours. Maybe they’ll wrap it up soon and go inside.

I never got a message from Andy today, but I doubt he went back to work. As Marla said, who used to be a pothead herself, pot kills all ambition.

I got an unexpected call from Minnie, but she’s not worth calling or talking to. Besides the fact that I’m not a phone person anymore, I hardly know her, and she’s not quite my type. She’s a naïve kid, if you ask me, but it’s sweet of her to call every now and then and I appreciate her sending me that article on Bob like she did. She won’t be able to call after August, hopefully.

I’m not looking forward to Easter, which is getting closer and closer, but you never know with these sick freeloaders, cuz any day could be a holiday over there.

Not that I give a damn, but the bitch made it a point to talk real loud again in the driveway. Besides the cock pulling in and out and Bill being over there as is usually the case on weekdays, a black car that I’ve seen before, but not too often, visited for a while around 6 PM. The bitch, holding the bald baby, and the 4-year-old mistake, all had to see this visitor off. Whose is this baby? Maybe it’s one of the twins that the cock’s supposed to have made when he cheated on the bitch - ha, ha, ha! Get it? I’m referring to the letter I sent the bitch a couple of years ago, claiming I was his mistress, pregnant with twins, with the hopes that the letter would get him kicked out. Yeah, right! I should’ve known better, too.

We screwed earlier since we didn’t get the chance to on Saturday or Sunday. It turned out to be a disaster, but this time, it was all my fault. Totally. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and I don’t know how many more years it’s gonna take me to learn to just shut up and keep my curiosities to myself. He does not like to discuss sex. If you even dare try, it really gets him going and he’ll turn it around on you and insist you’re making a big deal of it. People do that with subjects that are really touchy to them and with subjects they haven’t been particularly honest about.

The sex itself was fine. There was no irritation, he went on top without excuses, and all was fine. Afterward, I commented on how nice the sex was and he said, “We’re almost to where we were before.” I asked where that was, but he basically brushed me off. After I washed up, I told him, “I’m sorry, but the curiosity’s killing me. What do you mean by we’re almost where we were before? He said, “Well, I didn’t cum.” I was thinking to myself - Gee Tom, that’s your choice, isn’t it? Then he got all hot and bothered when I told him it didn’t matter to me if he came or not, and why did it suddenly matter to him? He also insisted I asked the same questions over and over and made a big deal of it. I did? I thought I was just asking a few questions once out of natural curiosity. The point is, is that I should’ve known how he’d react, and I should’ve kept my questions to myself. He’s very old-fashioned sexually. You don’t discuss it if you don’t want him to get uncomfortable or defensive.

Once again, mixing sex and relationships is a bad thing. I don’t know if it’d be this complicated if he had been normal sexually all along, but remember, he’s gonna have a guilty conscience no matter how much I’ve come to expect him not to cum, no matter how much it’s OK with me if he doesn’t, and no matter how much he doesn’t want to cum and risk impregnating me. He’s still gonna feel guilty about what he’s doing, which has been basically lying to me in this department from day one. The only one that’s been keeping him from cumming regularly is himself and he’s been deliberately, knowingly, and intentionally doing so. So despite how I now feel about it, it’s natural for someone that’s guilty of being deceiving, to get defensive and turn things around on the other person.

And by the way, where were we? Cumming three times a year? There’s not much difference between cumming three times a year and cumming no times a year if you ask me, so why does he feel the need to cum three times a year? If he’s that nervous about cumming, he shouldn’t cum at all. Period.

Later...

What, Joebitch? No coming out to yack at the top of your lungs to the black car tonight? Well, that car doesn’t come around too much. Instead, the cock’s here now. The trunk of the car’s open.

I still worry about this cock moving back in. I’d like to hope, once again, that neither of these people is that stupid, but I recognize a pattern when I see one. He’s visiting too much and I don’t like the unloading shit from trunks lately. Especially from deep in the carport. We’ll just have to see what goes on this weekend. If he were on his way back in, I’d think he’d complete the comeback over this coming weekend.

The more I think about it, although I hope to hell I’m wrong, the more I disagree with Tom’s belief that they won’t bass the shit out me upon seeing the for-sale sign go up. Yes, they will. They’ll figure, what the hell? She’s moving, so why not make her last few weeks here hell? They’ll pay dearly for it if they even think of harassing me again. What did I do to these people? God, what did I ever do to these people?

Jesus Christ! I just heard a male yelling, making some hooting sounds. Right away I thought it was coming from the freeloaders, but he’s gone and they’re in the house for the night. It’s the renters. They are so fucking weird! They’re hanging out front with their front door wide open. Are they gonna leave their door open constantly when it gets over 100º? Don’t they have a ton of bugs in their place? The sound this guy made was a definite, definite I-want-attention call. This worries me, too. Does this mean those stereos that are all bass are on their way in to be played daily for more than a few minutes at a time? Is society really that desperate and lonely? Do people really need attention that badly? Especially from people they don’t even know? They want just anybody to notice and acknowledge them. Sick!

Later...

I haven’t heard anything else since that little attention call, but the renters do have company tonight. There are four vehicles over there and the door’s still open.

I forgot to mention that yesterday, for about five minutes, I could hear bass thumping shortly after I got up at 2 PM. In the middle of a weekday? That’s not a good sign. Anyway, I couldn’t tell where the hell it was coming from. There was no one next door but Bill and no one was visible in any vehicles that I could see in driveways across the street. It must not have been soft and close, then. It was probably loud and far away. Unless it was coming from inside someone’s house since no one on this street seems to work. I swear each house has at least someone that’s always home. Most of the driveways I can see have two cars and there’s always at least one car in the driveway.

Am I hearing things, or did my computer speakers just talk? It sounded like a scanner or a CB type of voice. I only heard it for a second. Every now and then, when I’m leaving messages to people on the regular phone, I can hear someone’s outgoing message on their answering machine. Well, we won’t be here much longer, and it hasn’t interfered with any of our phone calls, so I won’t worry about it. Especially since I’m not a phoneaholic.

Wow. Andy actually said, in response to my message to him about the new car, that he was happy for us, the car sounded nice, and he can't wait to see it.

He wasn't negative. I thought he'd say something about how much he hates those types of cars or something to that effect.

Now for some more bad news. I would've thought that the next mouse to die would be Big Cocoa, but instead, I found Little Cocoa dead. She was sort of in view, cuz she was partway out of a burrow. Then I noticed that Shy didn't come out for her share of cheese. I couldn't find her at first. She was buried inside one of the boxes that have that colored crinkled paper. I felt through the box and when I felt cold hard fur, I knew I'd found her. I'm surprised to lose two of them at once, but these mice were at the end of their lifespan. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if we move with just Katie and Ashley unless they've got some contagious disease that'll kill them all. So, since I've only got five mice, and know that three of them are old and will die soon, I'm just using two of the Play City cages. No aquariums. If I'm right about just having Katie and Ashley when we move, I'll just get one male mouse to impregnate these two.

We got a much better car than we expected. For just $5,000 we got a 1991 Ford Taurus. I can’t believe how nice it is for being that old and at that price. It’s fully loaded, except it doesn’t have dual airbags. It has a 90-day warranty and 123,000 miles on it. We’d have preferred a light blue color, but it’s white. A good color for the desert, though. It rides really well and it’s such a comfy car to sit in. We’re already talking about taking it somewhere for a weekend. Maybe Vegas, Laughlin, California…wherever. We’ll probably have this car for about 5 years. We don’t like to travel much, we don’t often haul a lot of big stuff, so like I said, it suits us well. It also has tinted windows, ideal for AZ, and coin and cup holders that you pull out from where the radio is. We also have roadside assistance that really does exist, too! I couldn’t believe how shiny and new-looking this thing was. I expected it to be filthy for being a used car, but it wasn’t. It looks a lot like what the bitch’s cronies drive.

Later...

I began to panic when I saw it was around 6:00 and Tom still wasn’t back. I called Dave to ask if he’d heard from Mary and he said he had just been contemplating calling me to ask if I’d heard from her, but not to worry about it at this point. Shortly after that, Tom came in just as the sun was setting and we went to Jack-n-the-Box.

As we pulled in (we parked in the front driveway) I saw the bitch’s porch light was on and commented on how someone was coming. Sure enough, the white car pulled in and they had to have seen us. I said to myself, you being seen is gonna stir this bitch up. That bitch always makes a scene of some kind after someone connected with her sees me or hears anything going on over here, and I knew I could bet my life on the fact that the visitor ran and told her immediately that it saw me. I’m sure that was the first thing out of its mouth. Sure enough, the bitch came out and made it a point to talk real loud for a few minutes before the white car left.

The original plan was to push the old car out of the garage and around to the back driveway, so the new car could take its place in the garage. Of course, if Tom hadn’t been such a slob, we could’ve pushed it to the other side of the garage. Anyway, I told him he wouldn’t get the thing to start and that’s exactly what appeared to be the case at first. It sounded like a horse whinnying when he tried to start it. Amazingly, though, it did start up, although it screeched badly, and he got it to the back driveway.

Our weird renters came out to hang out in their cars, as usual. They’re always watering their yard, washing their cars, and working within the hoods of their cars. They were watering the yard today, washing the maroon car, and working within the hood of the red car.

That cock had me really worried earlier that he was moving back in, even though I didn’t sense it coming.

When I got up at around 2 PM, I looked out and saw three tires sitting in the driveway by the basketball hoop. Meanwhile, the cock was parked deep in the carport. I mean really deep. And this had me a little worried. I caught a glimpse of him in a white undershirt and before too long, the car and tires were gone.

At around 5:00, it was back deep in the carport again and at its trunk doing God only knew what. I couldn’t see. This had me really worried for a minute there, cuz this is exactly the pattern leading up to when he moved back in in June of ‘97 (it lived here 3/1996-11/1996 & 6/1997-7/1998). It began spending more and more time here, parked deep in the carport, and it unloaded stuff from its trunk. Tom checked the dumpster, but there were no boxes like when he moved in the last time. If it were moving back in, it’d change the long-dead obnoxious security light bulb in the carport for when it’d be out bopping around the carport and slamming doors on me till mid to late evening every fucking night.

Tom was telling me not to worry and that he’d leave and was probably just unloading something for the kid. Oh, I heard that kid, alright. And the bitch. They weren’t interested in getting away from me today. They were interested in trying to badger me with their nosiness. I’m sure they’re rather furious over the last complaint. Anyway, I know these people are naturally noisy no matter who’s around them, but still, I’m sure a lot of the screaming that could be heard easily enough in the rooms on their side, was hyped up regarding me. The bitch, kid(s), and cock hung out in the yard yelling and screaming for about 20 minutes. I knew right away they didn’t get a dog, cuz I never heard barking. I don’t know what they were doing, but he did leave, fortunately for all of us.

Tom says he doubts the cock knows about how sound gets amplified by block walls that are just a few feet away from a house, and you know, I thought about it and I’d say he’s right. This cock would never have the brains to know something like that. I thank God for their lack of mentality, cuz if they really wanted to, they could have him move back in, but not let it show. They could hide it from any inspectors to make it look like he’s not living there. Hell, that bitch could put his razor and shaving cream in her box of tampons, not that this fuck has any hair to shave, but still, it could be hidden. They could make sure he kept most of his clothes in his car and that he only took the bare necessities into the house. Most of which could be hidden under a mattress. The inspectors don’t check that thoroughly. Let’s just hope these sick fucks stay stupid sick fucks. They’re so lucky we don’t intend to stay here. If we’d had it in mind to stick around, this bitch wouldn’t be living there. I’d have had her tossed out years ago.

The white car came and went today, and that’s it.

OK, time to check for email, do some singing, do some reading, and exercise.

Later...

So God’s gonna win after all. I took a water pill yesterday and the day before and managed to wake up at 105 pounds today. But now? I’m all the way back up to 109½. Bet you if I hadn’t taken the water pill, I wouldn’t have gained a whole 4½ pounds. OK, God, I won’t cheat. I’ll lose weight the natural way; by practically starving myself.

The bald freeloader’s car is out front now. Mr. Cock was fumbling around the backseat, then the front. I see the car seat in back. Then it shut the doors and went into the house. Looks like it’s taking its bitch and mistake somewhere. I can’t believe they’ve been a couple for as long as they have. These are the last types of people you see in a long-term relationship. Like I said, I think she’s got him wrapped around her finger really well. He’s probably too afraid to leave her for fear of her temper doing something like destroying his car, spreading gossip, etc.

The baby and the 4-year-old are in the backseat now from what I just saw. Whose baby is this? Did he have this kid with some other woman who’s dead or in jail or who doesn’t want the thing? Is it the bitch’s nephew? I think it’s her nephew or a friend’s kid. Its mother is probably in jail. Either that or it’s just too doped up to care for it.

Finally, after a few more door slams, they left. Always gotta make a big production out of coming/going. Hopefully, they’ll be gone all day. As I said, there’s a chance she may not want to be around here as much on weekends cuz of me, which I hope is the case. I think she’ll want to go somewhere where she and her associates can be the assholes they are.

Later...

I just stepped up to the window in time to see the black-trimmed white car pull out. Probably came to see if the bitch was home, but of course, it’s not. Why not call and find out if she’s home? I heard music at a very soft volume, which was probably turned on the moment they saw she wasn’t home. That way they wouldn’t have to worry about her bitching at them to turn it off, so she doesn’t get evicted. Like I said, her friends are just as rude and as selfish as she and her cock is. Her “friends” have no respect for her whatsoever.

Wish Tom would hurry back with the new car. Not literally a new car, but one that’s 10 years old instead of 20. Mary took him car hunting at around 11:30.

Can God just ever allow me to be associated with a car that runs and functions well enough? Except for my parents, every single person I’ve ever been friends with or involved with had pieces of shit for cars if they even had cars in the first place. At this point, I’ll take anything as long as it runs and is trustworthy enough. It’d be nice if all the doors opened too, and if it didn’t have such a thunderous idle to it. It’d also be nice if windows and panels within the dashboard didn’t rattle obnoxiously. Another thing I hated about our now-dead 1984 Ford Tempo is that the seatbelt was so high, and on a short person such as myself, it was really uncomfortable cuz the fucking thing would go across my neck. Not my chest.

Tom says if he can fix the Tempo for little time and money, he may haul it to the back driveway with a $400 for sale sign on it. My vibe is that it can’t be fixed.

Tom said he promises to never trash this car. That’d be nice. He also says that although I’m number one, he’s also gonna consider a car his mom can get in and out of easily enough. I told him that’d be OK as long as he doesn’t sacrifice our needs, which he wouldn’t do. We come first, then his mother. Like I said, we already have a child. We’ve had one ever since.

Believe it or not, we screwed on a weekday. It was Wednesday evening if I remember right. At first, he was looking at the calendar like always, then he mentioned if it’d still be OK to screw since I mentioned being mid-cycle when noticing that the UT pains would come right before that. I reminded him that I couldn’t conceive, but that if he felt uncomfortable cumming - don’t cum. This was no problem. He wouldn’t even dare go on top. Instead, he said we were still “easing our way back into sex” which I’ve already done, as far as my crotch is concerned. He just can’t come out and admit that he doesn’t want a kid any more than I do. Instead, he says he wants one and that now would be a good time, when asked. Yeah, and I want a $10,000 phone bill!

I may have been slightly wrong about the footage here in this house when I said it was about 1400 square feet. That’s counting the garage. Not counting the garage this place is about 1200. About the same size as the apartment I had in S. Deerfield. The model we looked at that I fell in love with, was about twice the size of this house, twice the size of the S. Deerfield apartment.

Later...

It’s just after 4:00, but Tom’s still not back yet. I hope this isn’t a bad sign. I mean, I know just how much the evil forces above live for giving us a hard time with things like this. Right now, although I don’t sense it, my biggest worry is that it takes longer than August to get out of here. I feel like August is a year away. The more anxious you are to do something, the longer the wait seems. I feel sometimes like these walls are closing in on me and like the closer we get to moving, invisible hands will jump out of these walls and try to hold us back. I want this to be my final escape, so to speak, after waiting and trying to get out of so many places before - my parents’ house, hospitals, schools, apartments, and this house.

The renters are being their usual odd selves, with several different cars coming and going. Some of the cars are cars I’ve never seen before. Reminds me of the freeloader. They’ve been working on cars, or loading or unpacking cars, and hanging out front all day. There are several different people. I heard one of the car’s stereos, but once again, it’s not those kinds that are all bass like the freeloaders have. It was really soft, and only for a minute. I just don’t get this driveway bullshit of theirs. Instead of sitting in the privacy of their backyard on lawn furniture, they sit in front in their cars. First they sat in a jeep of some kind with the doors open. Some people were out of the car, some were in the car. And now they’re sitting in a maroon car that I see there a lot. They’re too fucking strange man, I tell ya!

I’m totally amazed that these people haven’t been a problem as far as noise goes. I only occasionally hear the faint beat of their drums within their car stereo for a few minutes. This is a moving sign. At least I think it is and I hope it is. Noise is usually more of a problem when I’m not planning an immediate move, although I did move out during quite a riot from the NHA and Bell Rd. The butch at the Vista wasn’t too quiet, but she did quiet down a bit in the end when she saw that if I heard her, that was one more night’s sleep she was to lose on account of it. Meanwhile, I got Robert to shut up before I moved out of there and up to be next to the butch and behind Andy. Bonnie and Steve weren’t a noise problem, but they’d have become one if I hadn’t moved right before Steve got his daughter from Georgia who was about a year old. The M’s shut up right before they moved. So, I do see a slight pattern here. It goes under Murphy’s Law. Just like people are more likely to be able to lend you money when you don’t need it, people seem to shut up when you know you’re on your way out and therefore, aren’t as worried about them.

Later...

Now that was weird. I happened to take a casual glance out the window just now and saw the cock pulling out. You mean he dropped off his bitch and those two kids that quietly? Wow!

See what I mean, though? That bitch is gonna want to spend the bulk of the daytime away from here on weekends. Fine with me.

Later...

Looks like our weirdo renters packed up their driveway/car party and have headed indoors.

Where the fuck is Tom? This could only mean bad news that he’s still gone, right? For it to take all day to find a car?

OK, Marjorie. This is the final straw and damn you to hell, woman! May you hurry up and die NOW!!! Oh, how I’d love to smother that woman with a pillow in her sleep! I wish somebody would, since she just won’t go belly up fast enough. The piece of shit car that the user insisted we have, and that’s caused us so much time and trouble, just broke down. Tom called and asked that I give him a number of a towing company. She better buy us a new car and pay these fucking towing costs, so help me God! Oh, how I’ve come to hate that woman and you can bet your ass I’ll be sick the day of her funeral.

He told this bitch, by the way, about the manufactured homes. He said she asked if it came with a little house attached to it for her. Fat chance, Marge!

I’m so fucking sick and tired of this woman, directly and indirectly, coming between us. Instead of being able to prep the house this weekend, we have to play car. The whole weekend’s gonna be shot to having to fix this fucking car.

Poor Tom’s stuck at a Circle K for about an hour having to wait for the fucking tow truck. Every single fucking time we try to get on with our lives, she has to interfere in some way shape or form. I wonder if Tom will have the time to move even with just the overtime they stick him with at work, let alone his having to constantly repair that fucking car and deal with his mother.

I wonder what our young, weird renters are up to, who never seem to work. They’ve been making trips unloading and loading things up in a red van.

Boy, am I a damn good detective! Got some goodies for those freeloaders.

I’m pleased to say that Bill’s back, which I noticed upon waking up at 11:00. I also noticed a white city van, too. There were two city guys. One was black, but I’m not sure about the other. He may’ve been black. Anyway, they were apparently doing something with the evaporative cooler. I got pictures of them on the roof and of the city van parked in the driveway. The guys had their backs to me, but what makes this camera cool, is that you don’t have to aim its lens right at them. You can hold the thing down by your waist and no one would know you were taking a picture of them, since the lens swivels. You can take a picture of someone above you while holding the camera downwards. After they left, the cock appeared in the street. Then a white city car pulled into the driveway and a black lady with short straight hair got out and went into the house. No doubt making sure the bitch didn’t have anyone living there that wasn’t supposed to be there, after my complaint. I got pictures of both cars.

The cock was its usual bald self with its gold glasses, and this time, it wore a white beaded necklace of some kind.

When the lady came and got back in her car, the cock came up to her door with a neon pink piece of paper. I don’t know what that was all about. There was an air about that cock, though, that said, See? I’m not guilty of doing anything wrong. It was like he was trying to butter her up and kiss her ass. Did he have a guilty conscience? Then the lady left and the cock got in his car. He was fumbling with a blue shade screen. He has two twin tree air fresheners dangling from his mirror. I took the binoculars and tried to read the license plate which was a little hard to see with our bird of paradise twigs in the way. I made out what I think is JYD, but then the little shit pulled away before I could read more. I guess this is an older car too, since it has those old maroon-colored plates.

You could say I’ve gone from being disappointed in Andy, to mildly worried about him. He just won’t work. He can’t keep living like he has been forever. He said he quit the filing job cuz he hated it so much. Then he told me that yesterday he began his first day at another temp job which was great. Then today, the phone rang at 1 PM. I got a feeling it was Andy calling, who shouldn’t be calling if he were at this job which is a day job. Sure enough, it was him leaving a message, and he said the same thing - he came home sick. He says it’s his stomach and he doesn’t know if it’s nerves, the flu, or what. He says he thinks it’s the cigarettes, he wishes he could quit, and wants any advice I could give him. As I told him, you just have to make up your mind to quit and stick to it. Everyone’s different as to how long their cravings last. It was 4 months for me, but I’ve known people who have told me their cravings only lasted a few weeks. I’ve also heard some say a year. I think another reason he could be having stomach problems could be due to how much he’s eating. Even he admits to eating like a pig. It seems he lives for food, pot, and phones, and nothing more. As he says, he’s just not interested in anything. It’s sad to see him go to waste like this. He’s too smart and too good of a person to go on like this, but once again, what can anyone do? No one can make him change but him.

In his reply message to me, he said he hasn’t eaten hardly at all this week, cuz he’s been puking up everything he eats. Therefore, he’s hungry but is afraid to even try to eat. Maybe all he needs is sleep, he says. Right. Sure he hasn’t eaten hardly anything all week. He’s lucky he’s only 160 pounds with all he eats.

Later...

Here’s the update - Tom said the car just stalled on the freeway, so he coasted to the shoulder of the road. Using the cell phone, he found out that our free roadside assistance was canceled due to low usage. Thanks for notifying us, huh? He said there was a broken rotor. As God would have it, the nearest parts store was 4 miles away. So he walked to a place to buy a new rotor (of course, there had to be another parts store right next to it). Then he took the bus back, getting off the bus earlier than he knew he needed to. He was afraid the car would be towed or that there’d be a ticket waiting for him when he returned, but God was at least willing to spare him that much. So he put the new rotor in, but it didn’t help shit. He did manage to get the car into a Circle K parking lot, but then that was it, the car was dead. This is when he called me to look for a towing company. Tom says it’s either due to a blown head gasket, a cracked block, or a cracked head. Yeah, I sure wouldn’t mind cracking some heads myself! Meanwhile, almost right on time, the car was towed back here and pushed into the garage where the dead piece of shit is sitting right now. Before Tom told me it could be permanently dead, I had a strong vibe saying it could never be fixed. It’s totally trashed.

I’ll write more about it later.

Later...

Tom and I walked to the Circle K that’s by our house shortly after he got home, and bought a few things to hold us over till he can do the regular grocery run. It was a bit warm, but still a pleasant walk. On our way up there, we walked up W. Weldon before turning onto 19th Ave. On our way back, we came down Whitten Ave., a block over from W. Weldon. A small to medium-sized dog began following us, but its owner called it back, thankfully, even if Tom said it was friendly. As Tom pointed out, every other house had a dog in its yard. It was sickening. This is one of the reasons why Tom decided not to put the doggie door in the back door. It’s not worth the time and money. We have enough other shit to do around here. Also, the next people, who’ll more than likely have a pet, will have a dog. And it won’t be allowed indoors.

Tomorrow, we’ll more than likely have a new car. Not a brand new one, but something that at least runs. Tom spoke to Mary and Marge. Although Marge will buy us the new car, there goes 4 or 5 thousand dollars towards moving. So, in order to get more money from her to help towards moving, he may have to bribe her, so to speak, since she’s selfish. If we told her we were moving to Nevada, all she’d do is think, He’s not gonna be able to take me to appointments anymore. So since there’d be nothing in it for her, she wouldn’t help us by giving us money. If we offer to let her stay with us some weekends, she may be willing to help a little more if she sees there’s something in it for her, too. Especially since she gets sick of dealing with Mary and Dave’s filthiness, their dog, and them eating nothing but fast food shit.

What if she were already dead and had given the money out? Then what would we do? As Tom said, we’ve got to start saving some money at some point so that we can bail our own asses out of trouble in the future.

I’m so tired of being the underdog, I swear! I know things could be worse for me, and perhaps this is selfish of me, but when I look at all these normal people around me who can keep schedules, sleep with their spouses and have normal sex, drive cars, work regular jobs, make decent money, have the houses they want, have the kids they want for free, it really bothers me. We’d have to pay thousands of dollars to have a kid that we no doubt still could never have if I decided to do the in vitro someday, we live in an old dumpy house, have a dead piece of shit for a car, and he makes so-so money working 50 or more hours a week. Forget about trying to fix and deal with the other things like the schedule, etc. He says he should be getting a raise in a week or two. Hopefully, that’ll help.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to get the house I want, in the perfect location, but I just hope Tom’s right when he says we should still get out of here in July or August.