I’m feeling a little down tonight. I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s cuz the onset of June has us not too much further into the prep work as the coming of May did. Perhaps I’m feeling angry at God, once again, for cheating me out of my right as a woman to choose whether or not to have a kid. Perhaps it’s cuz I know this is the last day of not having assholes just a few feet away from me. At least, I think it is, even if I don’t vibe it, cuz not only is tomorrow the 1st, but I think I might’ve seen one of our new neighbors. The shocking thing about it is, is that she was white. White doesn’t mean better, though. Not when you’re a renter and not when you’re just a few feet away.

At just after 4 PM, Tom and I saw a new car with a couple in their 60s, accompanied by what must’ve been their daughter. I couldn’t tell her age for sure and I couldn’t see if she was pregnant. This one didn’t exactly look all that young, though. She might’ve been in her late 20s. Even her 30s. I thought the car might be too dazzling to be that of a couple that old, but Tom says differently. Well, Tom knows cars better than I do, so I trust him. I saw no kids, but I know the city isn’t going to rent to someone without kids. I suggested to Tom that maybe the people got it by word of mouth. Maybe someone with a city friend offered the house to them to either rent or buy, but Tom says they aren’t allowed to do that. Well, I know the older couple aren’t the ones to be moving in.

Since the couple drove that woman that tells me that she probably doesn’t have a car. So, I guess that means that like with the bitch, all her cronies will be running over here to see her and to take her places, huh? But is this who’s moving in? How many kids does she have? Does she work? Have dogs? Maybe tomorrow will tell. It only seems logical that someone would move in tomorrow, but again, my vibes just don’t say so. I see something going on, though. Perhaps the city will mow. Perhaps they’ll come back to see the house again. Or someone else will.

Anyway, it didn’t appear that these people had keys to the house. They pulled up, went into the carport, and tried to see into the window, then into the backyard, then a few minutes later they walked towards the front of the house, then left. They could’ve gotten into the house from the back, but I don’t think so. The good thing is that I don’t have a bad vibe, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in for rude noisy assholes. Remember, the bitch and company didn’t start off so bad. I didn’t even know anyone came to look at the house and was moving in till a couple of weeks later when I first heard that cock’s bass. I had asked him if he was a worker there when I went out and uselessly asked him to turn the music down. That’s when he told me that they’d been slowly moving in for a couple of weeks. Same with the Mormons. They were fine the first week or so.

The owners were across the street working on the house again. There’s still a paper on the door. Probably an eviction notice, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s gonna come back and claim it.

For three days I had close to 2000 calories and awoke at 109 pounds. But today, I had just over 1000 calories and woke up at 111 pounds. Nice, huh?

Tom did a wonderful job trimming the tree in front, but even so, that's all he did this weekend so far, and this is something that needs to be done anyway, moving or not. He also brought some of the stuff we have out back, like the old sink, an old little table, etc., to the alley for bulk pickup, but there's still plenty of stuff in the backyard. I guess we'll really need a dumpster right before we move! That alley fills up fast.

I'm surprised I haven't heard from Paula. Well, I hope her birthday went well.

Tom said he saw the owners of the house across the street come to mow the lawn. I just hope that whatever comes next over there isn’t worse.

This is the second day in a row I woke up at 109 pounds after I had been waking up at around 111 pounds for a while. Tom says it’s cuz of the exercise. Well, good. Then I can eat more. I had to have had about 2000 calories the last couple of days, so I was surprised to wake up at what I did, and I doubt I would’ve had I not been exercising.

Later...

I’ve been watching a lot of documentaries lately. Stuff on the Titanic, crime, natural disasters, rescues, etc. Every now and then I still check out a movie if I can find something appealing enough that I haven’t seen. It’s just that new movies are scarce! I swear they must make only 50 new movies per year. It really sucks.

Anyway, I’ve got one taping now, nonetheless, and hopefully it’ll have a good enough plot mixed in with the pregnant women having babies. And the TMs (typical males) with their so-called “ideal women.” That to them is a slim girl between the ages of 12 and 16 who’s very short, yet magically has endlessly long legs and big tits.

There’s gonna be a 12-episode Law & Order marathon on Monday. I’ve seen all I care to see on that show, but maybe I’ll tape it anyway just to see what episodes they run.

My vibes on next door have been accurate since that bitch left, but I wonder about Tuesday. You could say I kind of sense something then. Maybe someone won’t be moving in that day, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the city came to mow.

After mentioning to Tom how I’d miss never seeing Goldie and Al again, he said he felt I’d see them again. When I asked how he sort of shrugged, and then I asked if he thought I’d see Dureen and Art again. He said it was possible. Oh, is it? If so, I told him, it’d take a major backslide mentality-wise on my part. He said he didn’t say that. I asked what he meant then, but he wasn’t sure, I guess. Well, let’s just put it this way - knowing what’s good for me, I hope I never see these people unwillingly (which I don’t see as a possibility unless they broke into our house) and I most certainly hope I never see these people willingly. I’d like to think that I’ll always have self-respect and good judgment with whom I associate.

Still no renters. Tom said there’s a note on their door and that he thinks they’re being evicted. I told him so. I told him they were running. I won’t miss their constant comings and goings, but what if what comes in next is worse?

Why in the world don’t I have a bad vibe concerning next door? I should. But my logic and my vibes aren’t the same. Tom’s logic says they’ll move in tomorrow. My logic says they’ll move in Tuesday the first. My vibes say my peace isn’t threatened.

Tom thinks that whoever’s leaving us next door’s paper is someone who regularly cruises the area and lives down towards the right of our house. He thinks they see the house is empty and don’t want it to look that way to passing homeless people, so they put the paper on our doorstep as they’re walking back to their house. They’re obviously too lazy to carry it all the way to their house. Know what I ought to do for the fun of it? These papers are delivered every Wednesday. So maybe, once I see the paper over there, if there’s still no one living there, I’ll leave a note on the paper itself that says, Are you going to leave this one on our doorstep too? That ought to surprise whoever our little delivery person is.

Doe and Art did what I put at the top of my list of guesses as to what their next move would be. They didn’t call back. I figured they’d leave their number for me to see and go by that. Now that they see that they didn’t get a response from me, they may ignore me indefinitely. Long enough to get out of here, anyway. Then all I have to do is take the chance that the letters to Tammy’s kids don’t spawn off calls from Tammy, but if they do, they do. All I have to do is just ignore them.

Got a letter from that art school for training at home in art. They graded me an 85, saying that if your score is between 80-98 you qualify for training. They say they’ll contact me, but if they try to call, they’re not gonna have any luck. I gave them a bogus number. If I don’t hear from them by July, I’ll contact them. I’ll take Tom’s suggestion and find out all my options, but even if this course were free, how would I get jobs afterward with no car living where we’ll be living. It’d be hard even if we stayed right here, and remember, I can’t even keep a fucking schedule. So, my life’s options are pretty limited as far as jobs and huge responsibilities (such as kids) go. Tom thinks they’re legitimate, though, and he plans to take this same art test when we move to see if they tell him the same thing or not, but he thinks he’ll score lower than 80. They tell you if you’ve scored lower than 80, to keep practicing, and then take another test.

Later...

Just did the first part of my workout. I do my abs first, then my legs. I haven’t been doing too much with the arms. Just a couple of exercises, including push-ups.

My theme changer’s working again. We’ll see how long it lasts and what gets fucked up next.

Andy is going to get some more notes from me after all. He had wanted me to make up new notes for him to distribute, but I was too lazy to do so, so he had Michelle do it. Well, Tom got more colored notepaper. I pulled out a sheet of each of the 10 colors for my dream notes, so I’ll stick that in with Andy’s stuff.

Woke up to an unwelcome surprise. When I went to check the Caller ID box, guess whose name and number were there? Art O’s. And guess what else? They never did change their number. Right before I cut them off, their area code changed. So, when I went to chew them out about Larry last winter, I was dialing the right number, but with the wrong area code. I’m glad that I forgot the new area code at the time, cuz it would’ve been a total waste of time to bitch them out about Larry, themselves, or anyone. Like it would’ve changed anything? Yeah, right! I still do intend, though, to send them and Larry that stuff when we move, although I’m sure barely a paragraph of that will be read. With my luck, they won’t have that natural curiosity of wanting to see what others are going to be reading about them, even though I’m just bluffing.

Anyway, there was no message, so I don’t know which one of them left the message or why they were calling, but I’ll bet you I can take a damn good guess! Let’s see…we want to call and act like nothing went wrong, be nicey-nicey for a while, then go through the same old cycle of bullshit, huh? Not this time, Doe and Art. Not this time! Of course, I don’t know how long it’ll take them to see that yes, I’m dead serious this time. They really did blow it for the final time last summer. It truly is over forever. Well, sort of. I mean, I’m sure they’ll try again, but obviously it can’t be that important and nobody can be dying or else they’d have left a message. It could go the other way around, though, too. There’s a chance they won’t bother calling back cuz they know I’ve got caller ID. There were times in the past that I’d call them back after seeing their number on the box, even when they didn’t leave messages. They may now say to themselves after placing this one call, “OK, we left our number on her box for her to see. Now that she knows we called, she can decide from here whether or not she wants to talk to us.” Well, I decided that last summer.

Who the fuck is taking the papers that are left in next door’s driveway and placing them by our front door? I asked Tom for his theory, but he had none. I do. I think it’s the collie people. But why? To be a nuisance to us? To not let next door look empty? If they wanted to gather up the papers to keep next door from looking empty, why can’t they just throw the papers in their own damn recycle bin? Why give them to us? They’re the only ones I can think of that’d do that to us. They’ve got to know that the anonymous letters about their dogs came from this house. The Mexicans had to have discussed me, and then they had to have put two and two together. I hope I can spot whoever’s doing it to settle my curiosity and prove my theory right or wrong. I won’t do anything to them for it, though. After all, it’s just a newspaper, and not eggs or spray paint or anything messy like that.

Yesterday I put together a whole 500-piece puzzle.

Later...

I thought about it some more. Yes, thinking and analyzing things is my favorite thing to do! It could’ve been Dureen calling to say that Art’s in the hospital (with him expected to live). She could be using that as an excuse to patch things up for another round of abuse, knowing how much closer he and I were than she and I were. Well, if he’s sick - I’m sorry. I’m sorry if they’re suffering in any way. However, they still need to forget about me and move on. Nothing we can do can stop people from getting sick or dying. I’m standing firm ground on my decision. I don’t want anything to do with them.

There’s also a chance that out of sheer spite, they were calling to accuse me of something I didn’t do that they know I didn’t do. Or maybe one of their many enemies fucked with them and they really thought it was me.

Damn! It’s coming up on June and we haven’t scratched the surface of the prep list. My October vibe may very well end up turning into a January vibe, then an April vibe, and then the bitch won’t get her shit forwarded to her.

Later...

Boy, has my computer been doing weird things! It’s been totally hexed! First I get the virus, and now, the screen saver/color theme/wallpaper changer program is fucking things up. Last night, my themes quit changing. They couldn’t even be changed manually, so Tom had to reinstall Windows. Ironically, the thing’s working again, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure and that’s that there’ll be no more downloading or adding new programs to my computer for a long long time. Not if all it’s going to do is cause such hassles.

Walgreens is getting pretty incompetent these days. I called in a refill for one of my inhalers yesterday. They made it up when Tom went to pick it up today, but they claim I never called.

There’s been no one at the renter’s house since the day they played load-up last Sunday.

I forgot to mention that part of the reason Tom’s getting a raise is that, as he says, he complained about the way things were at work, as he learned from me. Well, it’s true that you have to speak out to get results at times. They hired a couple of new people and this is supposed to be his last week of overtime. Yeah, right! We’ll just see about that, cuz I say something new will come up to tie up his time. It just seems that God wants him to never have enough time here at home. It’s bad enough that we’re bound to this house for another God only knows how many more months, cuz of lack of time in which to prepare it to sell. And thanks to a certain selfish bitch who doesn’t give a shit about helping us. God, I wish that lady would hurry up and drop dead! But nope. In fact, she’s doing well enough to be going to California with David and Evie. Maybe even to Michigan to see her sister. See, people should listen to psychics more so than doctors. The doctor said she’d be going belly up last February, while I said that that won’t be happening till around August of 2000 and look who’s been right so far.

I don’t have a bad vibe for June 1st being just around the corner, and I should. Especially if those freeloaders, or something similar enough, are to be moving in that day. That tells me, along with a vibe that began last night, however weak it may be at this point, that perhaps the city is looking to sell that house (although I’d think they’d put up a for-sale sign). That means constant barking, but I’m prepared to deal with that too, if I have to. Not just subsidized freeloaders or their music. Anything that moves in there, be it black, white, or purple, is going to mean noise from kids. That may not be such a problem depending on their ages, or it could be a problem. We’ll just have to wait and see, cuz as you know, the kid that lived there wasn’t a problem. It was all the kids who’d visit that were a problem. And then again, dogs may be a problem no matter who moves in, be it renters or owners. I don’t know what to think anymore after seeing a carless, working bitch live there, then a jobless Mexican with a nice van come to check the place out.

Hey neat, all 3s in the time above this one, all 4s in this one. Even neater is that Tom got a 10% raise and will be making just over $26,000 a year!! That’s great.

Another messageless private call today. Again, it could very well be a business, but it could also be Michelle doing this so Andy could throw me off, cuz I had told him that as far as I knew, any private calls were from him, but I don’t know.

Woke up at 7:30 this morning with some cramps after falling asleep at 3:00. I took an ibuprofen, but what was weird was that an hour later, I woke up with more cramps and had to take two ibuprofen. I fell back asleep till 2:00, so I guess I needed it. The only trouble is that if someone moves in on the first, my schedule sucks for it. I’ll be woken up for damn sure that day.

I watched an old stalker movie I’d seen before and an autopsy documentary, and then I completed the day’s workout. I finished one of the four puzzles I got, but before starting another one, I think I’ll go relax with the current book I’m reading which is Stranger in the House. No, I’d better do the dishes first and get that out of the way.

When I got up I said to myself, I bet you have your daily message from Paula waiting for you. Sure enough, she left a message. She said she got the video, so that’s good. That’s all she said, though.

Also, in case I didn’t already say so, Andy didn’t mention any of the things I left him messages about when he called a few days ago from Springfield. That’s Mr. Into Himself for you, but he’ll rebel when he gets back and he’ll challenge or try to alter my views as far as Tom’s mom goes, or someone on my side of the family. The problem with Andy, though, is that he doesn’t listen. Do you know how many times he’s brought up manufactured homes being flimsy and how many times I’ve had to tell him that yes, ten years ago they were, but once they recognized they weren’t sturdy enough, they made them sturdier and are built of the same materials your houses and apartment complexes in Phoenix are made of?

Today and yesterday there was a messageless private call. It could be a business, but why do I have the feeling it’s Michelle calling, per orders of Andy, just to keep things going phone-wise?

Sounds like the kids are still in school.

Today’s the day. Seven years ago. It’s been that long since I left the NHA.

If I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, I’m soooooooo sick and tired of babies on TV. Like I said, in the 80s, all you saw on TV were drug busts. In the '90s, you’d be hard-pressed to find a show/movie with no one having a baby in it and it really gets old. I guess they felt they should really change subjects to something good, that most people can relate to. Well, even if I could relate to it too, the same old, same old gets old. I find myself less and less tolerant of the same old shit these days. I don’t know if Dureen and Art’s lack of tolerance has rubbed off on me, or if it’s just because, or what, but I’m tired of people having babies in everything I watch, which isn’t very much to begin with in the first place. So, since I rarely watch TV, it’d be nice to be able to enjoy something without the same old shit in it for a change.

Later...

Paula left yet another message today. God, she’s calling more often than Andy! Almost every day. I didn’t think she’d be such a pest since she’s long-distance. I didn’t think she’d have the phone to be a pest with most of the time, since she, like Fran, had a habit of ringing huge phone bills up and losing phones for months at a time. The whole time we were neighbors, she didn’t have a phone.

My waist is 27¼, my hips are 36, and my thighs are 21¼. I wish my waist, hips, and thighs could be 24-34-18, but that’s not going to happen. Tom says I’m going down all over, but since my upper stomach’s going down faster than the lower, it seems like my lower stomach’s not going down, but it is. Well, I hope he’s right and that it will go down some more, cuz I don’t feel like it’s gone down since I initially lowered it a bit. In fact, sometimes I feel like it’s gone up since then, so maybe Tom’s right; my upper gut going down some more makes it seem like my lower gut’s come up. My upper gut has definitely gone down a bit more. That we can both see.

I can’t wait till these braces come off, cuz then I can have carrots when I get hungry for a snack. They’re heavy compared to other vegetables like lettuce, so they’re somewhat filling, and they’re under 50 calories. Well, they’ve got 91 days to go, as long as they don’t decide to play appointment games on me again and reschedule me three fucking times. To go and schedule someone else when you’ve already got someone scheduled is totally rude. Anyway, the screen saver program that lets you put your own pictures into their effects is a countdown screen saver. Sixteen images I’ve selected flash by one by one as it counts down. So tomorrow, the same pictures will flash by, but it’ll tell me I’ve got 90 days to go in the corner.

Tom was headed out to trim the tree out front, but as we know, not being able to find things is his favorite pastime and he couldn’t find his fucking saw. Instead, though, he threw some old newspapers into the recycle bin. I’m so sick of the daily papers being thrown in our driveway. We don’t need them, we don’t want them, and we didn’t ask for them.

He slept from early morning to early afternoon, then went back to bed late afternoon. He doesn’t have to leave till 12:30, but he told me to get him up at 9:30.

He gets me an exercise mat if I ask for one, sports bras, almost anything within reason, but see? If it’s sexual, he doesn’t care to lift a finger to so much as try to meet my request. Well, I asked once and I’m certainly not gonna ask again. I have a feeling that’s what he’s waiting for and hoping for, but sorry, I’m not gonna beg my own husband to go down on me. I can see if I asked him to do something he didn’t want to do and he came out and told me so, but to just ignore a request from his wife to do something I know he’s capable of doing, tells me just how vindictive and selfish sexually he can be.

The blazer returned yesterday at 7:30 and played musical doors and loaded up for an hour, then left. So far today, I haven’t seen any vehicles over there, so I’m still guessing that they moved. They just did it in a weird way. Then again, these people are very weird, period. Well, I won’t miss their door slamming, but like I said, if it were next door, it’d be about as bad, maybe worse, as those damn blacks were with their door slamming, but I still don’t know for sure if they moved. I’m just glad they’re across the street and not next door! As for next door? I’m not sure what’s going on. My guess is still that someone will be moving in on the first, but what about that peeling carport paint and the overgrown grass that needs mowing? Are they gonna come out and do that first? We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.

These renters get weirder by the minute. They didn’t run, apparently. If they’re not coming to get some things they left in the house, then they did go on vacation. But why the need to pack things in several truckloads for a vacation? And why the need to come and go loading or unloading shit like they’re doing now? I can’t tell if they’re loading or unloading one of the vehicles now, but they’re doing something. Maybe they’re just hanging out in their vehicles. The people of Arizona have a strange way of doing that.

OK, I just got a better look and it looks like they’re loading the pickup. If they’re moving, what a strange way to move by moving stuff, then waiting a couple of weeks to move more stuff. The red car was here earlier, and now the Blazer and the white pickup are here. These people are more complicated to try to figure out than the blacks were with all their vehicles and their comings and goings. I still hope they don’t move, though. They may be into a lot of door slamming, but it’s across the street, not next door. Also, they don’t have a dog that barks non-stop outdoors. If they move, I could very well end up with a typical outdoor barker.

I’m loving every minute that next door stays scum-free, cuz I know it’s just a matter of a few days now. By the first, in comes the scum and back comes all that stress and lack of peace. However, I now know how to deal with these people! So, be it by the city or by my fists, I will set these people straight. They’re not gonna shit on me left and right like the blacks did. It definitely means having a dog to deal with if the city sells it, but as I told Tom, maybe that’s just what the city’s working on now, although there’s no for-sale sign up. Tom said he doesn’t see why they’d sell it cuz the law requires them to have a certain number of subsidized houses. Yeah, there are a lot of lazies out there.

Tom did more than I thought he’d do over the weekend. I thought all he’d do was just pick up the brush out front, but he did that, he removed the old ugly awning from the front bedroom window, he cleared the back patio, he filled in the AC hole in the back room, he spackled holes and smoothed the kitchen walls and ceiling, and he even drilled a hole for Mary and Dave’s new TV. Yeah, I knew them winning that would mean a job for Tom. If they get something, he has to set it up for them. Tom felt he owed her that for tagging along for so many hours the day they bought the new car. He still has another job left, though; to put an up duct in for them.

He got me some really cool computer presents, but as usual, there are problems with them. I can’t fully use them, I mean.

He got some ghost stories for me to read on the little computer to read myself to sleep, but he lost them, I guess.

He got a really cool program that lets you make your own screensavers. They have the basic effects and you add your own pictures. Some bounce, some fly, some distort, and they do all different kinds of things. There’s a 3-D cube too, and I made one of Gloria’s pictures, Norah’s, and the animals. What’s also cool about this is that you can set timers so that your themes, screensavers, and your wallpaper automatically change. The screen saver changer won’t work, and I don’t like their wallpaper changer as much as Tom’s, but the theme changer is so cool.

Yesterday we went to Walgreens. The prescription department wasn’t open when we got there, so Tom had to go back later to get my water pills. While we were there, though, I picked up 4 puzzles. Nothing spectacular. Just boring landscapes. However, they’re fun to do. I also got a couple of sports bras and they’re great. Not just for exercising and bouncing all around, but for any time.

Paula left another message yesterday with a whole different story. First she tells me that if I send anything to the 663 box, it’ll be returned to me. Now she says she’ll still get it, and that she just put in a change of address for the other box. But why change boxes? And why can’t she get her facts straight? First it’s this, then it’s that. She’s driving me nuts! Also, I thought that being long-distance, she wouldn’t bug me so much with the phone. Boy, did I think wrong!

I was also correct in assuming Andy would waste his time and money to call me just to tell me that he got my messages and is having a great time. Well, I’m happy he’s having a great time, but couldn’t this have waited?

Later...

OK, renters, come on. Let’s hurry up and wrap up whatever it is you’re doing. Your door slamming’s getting on my nerves. You’re lucky you’re not next door!

Later...

Good. The vehicles have left. I’ll enjoy the half-hour they’re gone since I know they’ll be back to play car doors all over again for another couple of hours.

Just checked my email. Kim’s jokes are getting dumber by the minute. What’s happening to her?

It just dawned on me that Andy never mentioned getting that letter from me. I’ll have to ask him the next time we talk, if and when I can get a word in edgewise.

God, I’m getting tired of these phone games with Paula! I’m gonna ignore her for a while, cuz I’m tired of the phone tag, and right now, I really don’t have anything to say to this air-head. Meanwhile, her video’s gone out today. She either gets it or she doesn’t. You know, I might not get the mail I sent to the wrong PO Box returned to me after all. It may go to that box, but whoever uses that box will be the one to get it. As long as you send something to an address that exists, it doesn’t matter what name you use.

I thought of something funny, but I’d never do it, cuz if I got caught, and with my luck I would, it’s a major felony. It’s just something funny to think about. I could get a change of address card and send Tammy’s mail to Larry, and another change of address card to send Larry’s to Tammy. Lastly, a card to send Dureen and Art’s to one of the houses we used to have in Longmeadow. Or perhaps the old cottage at the beach. Maybe even Judy and Al’s house in Springfield.

I’ve taken to writing my dream notes in an unusual place. The next person to buy these books will be like - what’s this? I’m writing the notes at the beginning or end of the book where you usually have a blank page or so, or a page with just a few words on it.

Oh, those fucking assholes that complain people hate them and then wonder why! Real winners, I’ll tell ya. Yes, they really are oh so mature and great for society. Great for each other, too. If it had been me to answer the door yesterday, there’d have been trouble. Especially if it were before I fully understood what was going on. I was in the bedroom with the fan on when I came out to pee and saw Tom up. The Mexican guys woke him up by coming to the door and asking where the car was. 

Gee, where the fuck does he think it is, stupid fuck of an idiot! 

I asked Tom if the stupid shit asked for the $50 back and he said no. Meanwhile, the little fuck’s truck was broken down on the corner. See, I thought the little fuck was trying to imply that the car was gone before he could get it, and that he was gonna ring the doorbell again and demand his $50 back after Tom told him he gave him the title and the keys, so it’s not his problem. That idiot is very very lucky that that wasn’t the case and that it didn’t ring this bell, cuz I’d have wanted to pummel the shit out of it. This shit totally reminds me of the Puerto Ricans and their scams on Oswego St. I was fuming! Anyway, what we think happened is that the shithead was double-crossed by its so-called pal. Tom said there were 3 of them that came to look at the car the first time. So obviously, one of them decided to beat the others to it. Yeah, I don’t doubt it. I mean, they even shit on their own selves, not just whites. 

As I said, it brought me right back to Oswego St. How could I have been so damn naïve?! So fucking stupid?! I know it’s senseless to get all pissed off at something that happened over a decade ago and that cannot be undone, but still, it’s hard to help it at times. The first thing I should have done was to take better care of my place so that those fucking Puerto Ricans Nellie and José couldn’t have ripped me off. But since I was too stupid to keep them away from my apartment and me away from them, I should’ve kicked ass. That surely wouldn’t set them straight and scared them off of the idea of fucking with my checks or boxes. I also never should’ve cashed those stolen checks she had, but I had absolutely no idea that if you cashed bad checks you had to pay for them. And I didn’t know they were stolen, but I should’ve. I shouldn’t put two and two together.

I try to remind myself there are good and bad in all kinds, but it’s so very hard at times. When that black bitch and her associates got on my case, I tried remembering Steve, and when Mexican scammers get me riled up, I remember Gloria.

There are sooooooo many things I’d do totally differently if I had to do them again. Well, you really do live and learn!

Another thing I can’t help is my daily bitter resentment towards God and his control. I try to ask myself how I can hate someone who’s given me Tom and so many other great things. Besides, I don’t even want a baby anymore. But that should’ve been my choice. Not his. Not unless I was some murderer or something of that violent nature. I’m glad things worked out as they did, but why did I have to go through all the suffering I went through? To me, God’s taking away a woman’s right to have a child if she wants to is the ultimate punishment you can inflict upon a woman. It’s cruel, it’s vicious, it’s heartless, and the worst thing you can do to a woman. It’s even worse for him to do that than it is for him to allow a woman to be raped. It may be traumatic to be raped and it may do some serious, lasting emotional damage, but the rape is only the rape while the actual act lasts. Demanding a woman be childless is forever. All her life she has to deal with that and with having her choice taken away from her, but a rape victim only has their choice taken away from them while they’re being raped.

Still no one next door. God, I can’t believe it! It’s so weird. Maybe they are planning to sell it, but I don’t know. The grass is getting to where it needs mowing. Also, Tom says that by law, the city has to repaint the carport area where the paint is peeling. With a city-owned house, the city can do what they want.

Later...

Just got a private call with no message. Was it a wrong number, a business, or perhaps Michelle, ordered by Andy to call me while he was gone, just so he could know he got my attention while he was gone, too?

Why do I work so hard for so little? All these crunches just to have such a paunch! The upper belly’s fairly flat. It’s the area between the belly button and the bikini line that’s the problem. And this is no subtle little swell, either. It’s a very defined bulge. I really don’t think I can flatten it any more than I already have, but Tom thinks I can in time.

Later...

I love my new exercise mat! It makes a world of difference to my back and joints. It really cushions the back, knees, and hips. It’s a piece of foam 60” long and 22” wide with a burgundy cloth cover. You can unzip the cloth and take it off to wash it. Just like when I exercise, it keeps the woolly carpet from bothering my sensitive skin. It also keeps me from making odd-looking impressions in the carpet.

I left Andy a message for when he returns, saying there have been some setbacks, so we won’t be moving this summer. In fact, I exaggerated it and said we’d be here another 6-12 months (we better not be!) so all the more he’ll be surprised when we leave.

I also told Andy that it’d be nice to hear about him when he returns. Not about God. He can talk about God all he wants, just some other time. First, let’s hear about his vacation and about what he did. Save God for another time. I know I’m totally wasting my time, once again. Even though I asked nicely, and I never said that he couldn’t talk about God ever again. It’s just that it gets so old and it’s so sad to see him so delusional. How can he kid himself about God like he does? It’s like, I may as well believe that this monitor is real and is looking out for me and is oh so loving and all that. Or one of my dolls, or a pair of scissors! We all can’t help what we believe, but God’s just a fictional character in a fairytale, as far as I’m concerned. At least, the kind he believes in.

I don’t have any more puzzles to do, so I guess I’ll go read some more of Haunted. Or maybe I’ll print out some stuff for this month.

I’ve been getting bruising along my spine, so I’m gonna be getting an exercise mat to cushion my back today or tomorrow.

Lisa tried calling me collect 6 times yesterday. I risked Tammy answering and called back, although I assumed Lisa was calling cuz she was alone, and quickly told her, “Lisa, I can’t talk to you. Hunt me down when you get on your own. I love you. Good-bye.”

But she’s trying to get a hold of me today, too. Isn’t she supposed to be in school? See, I’m just afraid to call. I don’t want to risk Tammy answering, and for all I know, Lisa’s aiding Tammy in some shit against me. Meaning, Tammy may’ve talked her into calling me collect and saying she’s in some deep shit to try to manipulate me to do something she wants me to do. This could be about Dureen and Art. I know, though, that if these people died or Tammy had something she really wanted to say, she’d call and leave a message. Still, I think it’s best I ignore Lisa for now. I hate to do it and I feel so mean and guilty, but I know that anything Lisa has to tell me will just get me down and maybe bring some unwanted, shitty memories along with it. She’d obviously mention people she knows like Tammy, Bill, and others, and I don’t want to hear about them. I don’t want to know them from nothing. The thought of their names makes me sick. It really does.

Later...

My guilty conscious finally got to me and I wanted to explain to Lisa outright what I planned to do. As I knew she would, even though knowing this didn’t ease my guilt, she understood that my cutting off Tammy, Larry, Dureen, and Art has nothing to do with her. She understands why I can’t have Tammy and the others in my life anymore. As I told her, though, don’t let my decision influence her. I told her that just like I have to do what I have to do, so does she. I told her that as far as she’s concerned if anyone ever asks, she hasn’t heard from me since April of 1999. However, as I told her, I’ll be hunting her down at some point when she’s in her 20s, but she cannot, under any circumstances, give whatever our number and address are at the time to anyone. She can’t let anyone know we’re still connected. I told her we shouldn’t risk calling each other and that if she calls this number in a few months, it’ll be disconnected. I told her we plan to stay in Arizona but that we want to move outside of the city.

All Lisa said, who was suspended for refusing to take a test, was that she was miserable there. I know she is. I told her, I know exactly how she’s feeling, but she has to just tough it out a couple more years, get her diploma, then get out on her own. I told her that when she does get an apartment of her own, to list her number as Lisa A. G. I told her to tell her sisters, once they get old enough to understand, that just because their aunt had to go away, she never blamed them for any of the family problems and she always loved them.

Maybe in 5-10 years from now, Lisa can come to our house out here be it to live or to visit, but again, as she says she understands, she can’t tell anyone where she’s going. I suppose the worst that could happen would be that her mother and her associates find out our number and address, try to call/write to get me back into their sick little circle, and I just play deaf and blind to it all. Just like I would right now if Tammy left me a message saying she just wanted to move on, she wouldn’t pressure me, let’s be friends. Even if that were true and we could get along, I’ve done my time with Tammy, just like with Larry and their parents. It’s time to move on. Period. Time to cut the connections to so many horrible events. I don’t need the reminders and the sad memories that these people bring. I just feel so bad for Lisa! I know the desperateness, the helplessness, the frustration, the anger, the sadness, and the hopelessness she’s feeling right now. Trapped with a bully of a father and a negative bitch of a mother. She wants to get out of there so bad that she said she was gonna get an apartment with “Joe” this summer. I reminded her of how her mother wanted out so bad too, and look where that got her. I told her to do it right, even if it takes longer.

So, after a few minutes of talking, with both of us in tears, I said that it may be a long stretch in between this conversation and the next, but that I loved her. She said she loved me too, and that was it.

I’m glad we talked one last time and that I laid things out on the line for her. I just didn’t like the idea of ignoring her calls for the next few months, then just disappearing for a while, even though she’d understand. I know she knows what’s going on. Next week, I’ll send Becky that birthday letter and letters for Lisa and Sarah, too.

First the doctor doesn’t call me back most of the time, and now they’re not calling the pharmacist back. I phoned in for refills on my water pills, but they haven’t heard from the doctor. Tomorrow, if I don’t get a call from Walgreens to come and pick it up, I’m gonna call the doctor’s office and give them a piece of my mind. I’m gonna set them straight for once and for all and make damn sure they know that when I call them, I expect a call back. Same goes for the pharmacist.

Later...

Well, it may not have been the doctor’s fault after all. First I called Walgreens and they said the doctor still hadn’t called back. So I called the doctor, and after being on hold forever, I spoke to the manager. She soon called me back saying Walgreens never called them and that that happens a lot with Walgreens.

Tom was visiting his mom today, and as you know, she’s the central source of family news. You can usually find out what’s going on with the family by asking her. She says David and Evie are renting a house in San Diego and we’re invited, as well as the rest of the family, to rent along with them, but Tom declined. Neither of us is interested. I mean, we’re not interested in visiting them in the next town over, so we certainly wouldn’t want to do it the next state over.

Ma also says there’s supposed to be a new bee repellent out. Something you put on yourself to keep bees from coming towards you. Yeah, right! None of the bee stuff we’ve tried worked.

Got a bad PMS back this month. I took a couple of ibuprofen but I doubt they’ll help.

Believe it or not, I’m really getting sick of Paula. So much so that I might cut her loose, too. Maybe I really really do need to just wipe the slate clean and start over in a new place with new people. I’ve lucked out a few times with neighbors, but the bulk of my friends haven’t been all that great. I’ve been basically hexed in that territory. Anyway, she’s just a ditz. A real fucking ditz! I left a message on her machine about a week ago, telling her that the PO Box address I have of hers is number 663 but then she leaves a message saying that's not what it is. Thanks, Paula! Now you tell me? So, I guess I’ll be getting a couple of pieces of mail returned, but I ain’t resending it.

Also, I know the mailman’s fucking around as usual, but I’m tired of this I’ll-send-you-pictures shit. I don’t need to play games like this and you know my opinion on talkers versus doers. Don’t tell me what you’re gonna do, just do it.

Lastly, I’m tired of her screaming at her kid while we talk, threatening him, telling me she slapped him, etc.

So putting all this together, I sat and thought about it, and I asked myself, do I really want someone this stupid and this aggressive for a friend? Someone who doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time? Who beats her kids and is in and out of jail? She’ll do nothing but fuck up the information she gives us about coming out here and she’ll have us running around the airport for hours, needlessly. She’ll make Kim, Alex, and Phil seem like the quietest guests and come between us.

Just like with Andy, a part of me will always love Paula. It’s just that the cons are overriding those pros once again and I don’t need it. I just don’t need it. Period.

Tom and I have evolved to the point where he’s not going to get all jealous, hype things up, tell me he no longer loves me, tell me to leave, and say things happened that never did, but you never know. I had no idea he was going to react to Kim’s visit the way he did. It was totally out of character for him and totally unexpected. He completely fooled me that time, whereas except for that, he’s not really all that full of surprises. But even if she didn’t come between us, she’d be enough of a hassle to deal with and we don’t need it.

Yesterday the muscles under my arms and at my sides were sore from push-ups. Today the backs of my thighs are sore.

I ran to the phone yesterday as soon as I heard the long-distance ring to see if it was Paula or Andy calling to tell me stuff that could wait till he got home, but it was Tammy’s number I saw. So I picked up the receiver and put it back as quickly and as gently as I could. The fact that the person didn’t call back told me it was probably Lisa. If you’re gonna call someone collect as she does, you don’t usually try twice in a row. If you’re gonna call a second time, you usually wait a while. If the person called right back, then I’d think it was Tammy cuz she’d probably think it was a faulty connection with the way I quickly would pick up and put the receiver right back down. So all she’d hear was a click. Not someone picking up, then hanging up. I know because I’ve done this with Andy. Sometimes I’d see his number, and I’d pick up and hang up out of annoyance, especially if he’d been calling like hell, but then he’d call right back leaving a message saying the connection didn’t quite make it or that my machine cut him off. The machine part is occasionally true, though. Sometimes our machine really does cut people off.

Still no renters across the street or people next door.

The Mexicans took the old car.

Thank God that hoop is down. Some non-white girl just went by with a smaller girl, bouncing a ball. They’re waiting for the school bus. They let them take balls to school? This girl has gotta be in junior high. Maybe even in high school. Aren’t these little animals getting out of school soon? What’s sad is that we’ll probably still be here when school starts up again in the fall.

Thank God the kids are playing ball in front of the old man’s house, which is like being two houses away since a house could fit in between ours and his. Would I be yelling at them to stop if they were in front of our house? Nah. Not since school is coming to an end and since we shouldn’t be here more than 5 more months. If it were September and if we had no plans to be moved soon, then yes. I’m sure it wouldn’t stop them unless they dropped dead, but it’d feel good to yell at them for it, anyway. But why did they come to the bus stop a whole 20 minutes early? Then again, maybe a bus passes by at 7:00, so they’ll be just 10 minutes early. There are 3-4 buses that pick up kids and drop them off at different times in the mornings and afternoons.

I hope the dream I had was not a warning sign of any kind. I hope it wasn’t a premonition of anything to come. The reason I wondered, though, was because of how I dreamt last December 28th that the freeloaders moved. Then 3 months later that happened. I also dreamt I was in the house after they moved (even though it looked nothing like it does in reality. It was a 4-bedroom, 2-story house with hardwood floors like you’d find back east). Well, after they moved, I was inside the house. However, there’s no way the place will remain empty for 3 more months, so if this dream, or any other one, does hold any clues as to the next people in there, it’s gonna happen sooner than August 19th. More like June 1st.

You’ll find this in my dreams file, but anyway, I dreamt that 5 white kids moved in. When I say “kids” I mean kids between 18-20 years old. They had their music blaring away and I went over there and threatened to have them evicted if they didn’t shut up.

There are two things about this dream that cannot happen. There’s gonna be people under 18 living over there once whoever moves in moves in. Also, they’re not gonna be white. Not unless someone buys it. No matter who’s in there, no matter what color or lifestyle, 3 feet away is just too fucking close, so it’s gonna be noisy either way. If you get owners, you get dogs. If you get renters, you get music.

If the dream I had before this one ends up a reality in any way, then things might not be so bad. This dream consisted of a white man, woman, and boy of about 10, and these people seemed more mature, more stable, and not apt to blast music.

Remember how I said I saw the blue van for a few minutes next door when the city wasn’t there? It could be that instead of the kid going into the house for something, she went in back to get something I threw over there. In fact, it’s doubtful at this point, that she was bringing anything over. I’d think she wouldn’t bring shit over this far in advance.

Tom told me earlier that he knew this was going to make me mad since I get mad when people win things and we don’t, but Dave won a big-screen TV from a drawing they had at work. I’m not mad. I’d be mad if they won a gorgeous doll they didn’t give a shit about that I wanted, but anyway, he and I aren’t destined to win anything big. Also, if he thought it’d make me mad, why’d he tell me? Would he find it amusing to see me mad or jealous? I’ve often wondered about this.

I saw Melanie yesterday and the doctor, too. I asked the doctor how much longer on the braces. As usual, he started off being vague about it, but after a few minutes, he finally answered the goddamn question. He said it’d take 10 months to really get things lined up perfectly, but only two months to tie up loose ends on the things we set out to do that I’ve already pretty much accomplished. So, they’re coming off in 12 weeks! On August 23rd. In 4 weeks I go back for the usual check-up, then again 4 weeks after that, then I get the braces off in another 4 weeks.

Melanie says she doesn’t like her retainer. You don’t have uncomfortable knobs sticking out that you have to wax, but you feel like you’ve got a wad of gum stuck to the roof of your mouth and under your tongue, and you talk funny. So, it sounds like I’ll be swapping in one misery for another. I’ll have to have the retainer for two years. All the time during the first year, then just at night.

I told Melanie how I was bummed she wasn’t around the last time I was in, cuz of the T-shirt I made for her to see. She said I could’ve come and gotten her, but I didn’t want to bother her. She said she liked my “cute little dress” and could notice the weight I’d lost. She told me she goes to the gym after work.

When I got home I printed out a rat picture, a couple of mice pictures, and a few different pictures of myself. One from when I was really skinny and one with my hair just past the shoulders when I was 24. I’ll give this to her the next time I see her.

My hair’s now to the middle of my ass when you don’t pull the curl out, and to the tops of my legs when you do pull it out.

Later...

I wonder how Tom’s back is? Good, I hope, but no matter what happens from here on out, I’ve already resigned myself to accepting and believing that we’ll be here till the fall. Maybe even as late as the end of the year.

I’m enjoying my time off from Andy’s calls, not that he’s been pummeling me with a lot of calls lately, but still, it’s always nice not to hear from him these days. I’m not looking forward to his return, that’s for sure. Cuz then I’ll have to sit on the phone for two fucking hours while he repeats the same old shit over and over again, talking in annoying slow, broken, intermittent-like sentences. I’m sure 80% of what he’ll have to say will be all about food and God. And then because he’ll be baked, he’ll call the next day and the next and leave a million messages about what he spent those two hours telling me about, cuz he can’t fucking remember that he already told me about it! Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhh! And who knows how much the little pig will be stuffing his face when we talk. Sometimes I wonder, though, if he conveniently forgets things just to have an excuse to call and tell me something on the machine. God only knows he has no life and not much new ever going on. So, when you have nothing new to tell, you usually go back over old shit.

I hate Andy, man, I’ll tell ya! Well, I don’t hate him, but I’m really sick of him!

I got a kick out of how he said he felt the same way after I told him I felt superior to others. How can a loser like that feel superior? He can’t hold a job. He’s a druggie. He’s loveless. He has immature druggies as friends. His life is exactly as it was a decade ago. He just lives in Phoenix, that’s all. He’s got these grand delusions about God and is totally clueless as to the fact that if his “friend” were really all that wonderful, the world would be a much better place. He wouldn’t always be in such a stagnant rut. Maybe he’d have love, a job he could hold, and a body and brain free of smokes and pot.

I decided to use a similar tactic on Andy as I did on Larry, Doe, and Art’s stuff. Just like I fibbed and told Larry, Doe, and Art that I sent copies to people they know, hoping this would up the chances that they read what I wrote (out of curiosity as to what these people will be reading about them), I put a note on the first page of Andy’s shit that the sentences with the letters fam in them were also shared with his family. See, a druggie has no ambition to do anything but sit on their ass. He never read that journal I wrote for his birthday a few years back. This is different, though, with different circumstances surrounding it, so hopefully, the lazy thing will be curious to read it. Maybe if I pray to Andy’s “friend” and ask that he make sure he reads what I have for him to read, he will, but I certainly won’t count on it, although as Andy claims, God always comes through for him. Yeah, right! Is that why we’ve got a kid? I’m glad we don’t, mind you, but I know he’s prayed for us for that and I know he’s told me that God always comes through for him. Oh yeah? Then why’s he still alone? And I wouldn’t doubt that he’s also prayed for help on quitting the drugs and the ciggies. Maybe for a little stability, ambition, and motivation, too. What a dreamer. A total dreamer. It’s scary when someone can’t separate fantasy from reality.

It’ll be interesting to see whether or not the city comes today. I should think so, but then again, I didn’t think they’d leave the house empty for another week either, not that I’m complaining. I’m pretty sure that house is done and ready to go. It’d be great if they were waiting for the first. That way, I wouldn’t have to worry about any scum being over there for Memorial Day, cuz I know that if any freeloaders were over there then, it’d be party, party, party. It’s always the outcasts that have to make a scene.

I can’t believe Andy, who’s supposed to be leaving today, didn’t call all weekend! I guess he’ll call if he doesn’t leave today as planned. For both our sakes, I hope he made it out OK.

It looks like yes, the renters did move. There have been no cars over there for days. Could be that they’re just out of town, but I think they’re gone. I’m not too happy about this cuz, believe it or not, they actually let their dog indoors for the most part, so it was never a problem. However, they’ve got a chain-link fence instead of a block wall, and if there’s a typical outdoor dog over there next time around, it’ll be right at the fence barking its ass off and driving me crazy.

I’m right about Tom - he’s definitely stalling for time. As I’ve said a million times before, he has an obsession with making me wait on him and saying things will happen way before they actually do, if they do at all. Why does everything have to be such a big competition with him? Why does he always have to rebel? Can’t he just do something when he says he’s going to? We filmed, and he took the flag bracket down, but other than that, all he did all weekend was trim the front hedges on Saturday, and pick up the hedges and carry them to the alley on Sunday. I know for damn sure now, that there’s no way we’re moving this summer. Not if he wants to creep around so he can make sure I don’t get my way, so to speak. I’ve been saying we won’t make it out this summer and he loves to prove me right when it’s not in the way I want to be right.

A classic example of how he just has to rebel and go the opposite way of what I want is how all weekend long he never once offered to go down on me. Well, if there’s any subject he’s always been selfish with and not willing to please me with, it’s sex. But why? He’s always resented me sexually and the only reason I can think of as to why is that I never took birth control to begin with and because I used to try to push him into cumming, and for a kid. If I’d only known better from the get-go! Maybe things wouldn’t have been that different anyhow since I’m destined to be hexed sexually, but if I had to start all over again, I’d be on birth control during the so-called childbearing years that don’t even exist for me. Still, it’s sad to see him not care. I’ll be damned if I’ll beg, though. I’m not gonna beg my own husband to go down on me, which my gut feeling’s telling me is what he wants. If he wants to be selfish and only screw me, I can’t change that. I can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, and I wouldn’t if I could. It’s too bad, though, that he has to play these games and therefore can’t come out and tell me he doesn’t want to go down on me. It’d be OK if he told me he didn’t want to do something I suggested, whether it was sexual or not. Aren’t people who love each other supposed to be honest with each other? Aren’t we supposed to try to do what the other wants and try to please them as best we can, and speak up when we don’t want to do something the other wants?

I know a good part of his ways are just that - his ways, but there’ll always be a part of me that regrets not starting things off differently since it’s obvious he’ll never get over it and move on. Some of what he said didn’t make sense, though, and I didn’t care to ask him to clarify himself since I know how upset he gets over sex talk. He hates even talking about how the sex went after each session. When he was talking about us getting off on the wrong foot sexually, he said something about him having to do things with me that were practically non-sexual, which I could tell by the tone of his voice he wasn’t happy about, but I have no idea what this means. What things did we have to do that were non-sexual? Does he mean not sleeping together? Well, if that ever did bother him, it doesn’t now. He said it doesn’t matter to him one way or the other if we sleep together. That’s good to know, and I feel the same. As long as we’re together and healthy and happy, we don’t have to share a bed. Just our lives.

We filmed a 5-minute walk-through of the house. We’ll keep a copy, and Paula will get a copy. God, I look like shit, though! Not only do I look 130 pounds or more, but I’m aging like hell! I can’t believe how a person can suddenly age so fast! I still look younger than my age, but also much older. I’ve got droopy jowls, and sagging lip corners. We got a kick out of how I accidentally said this was the N. 21 Dr. house. Even I fuck up our address.

My stomach’s popping back out a bit, and I’m gonna have to figure out a way to work the muscles harder. I can’t feel a burn so much anymore cuz my stomach muscles have built up a bit. I’ll bet I could keep up with some of those advanced abs workouts! I still have a good-sized bulge in between the belly button and the bikini line. I don’t think I can flatten this gut any further than it’s been flattened.

Yesterday, as Tom got up and dressed and ready to go clean the old car out and pick up the brush, he said it was hard getting going at first, but now he likes this prep work and is kind of disappointed to be moving to a new place. Don’t worry, Tom, I told him. God will have plenty of work for him. Things that shouldn’t be breaking so soon will break, and if they don’t, something else will come up. Besides, what about building a workroom or something like that like he said he wanted to?

Shortly after he said he liked the prep work and went out to clear the car out, he came back limping saying he hurt a back muscle. Hell of a timing, too. I mean, it was just quite a coincidence that this had to happen right at the start of the day so we could lose yet another day of prep work. I wondered if he was putting me on just to have an excuse to laze out in front of the TV all day, but he swore he really was hurt and that he’d keep on working no matter how much pain he was in, cuz I didn’t believe him (nice to know he was in a hurry to cum back when I didn’t believe he would). Anyway, I didn’t want him to work if he was in pain, and besides, I already know that we’re not getting out of here anyway till the fall, so what the hell? In fact, we may even be here around Christmas time.

My computer’s been doing weird things, so he installed some kind of crash preventer, but I don’t know how well it’ll work.

Later...

He just called to let me know he’d be late. Yeah, I know. I know he does 12-hour shifts on Sundays and I don’t expect him in till 8:00-9:00. He says his back still hurts.

Better go put the recycle bin out just in case he doesn’t get home in time.

Later...

That Mexican guy really did come back. He came back shortly after Tom crashed. He got up and gave him the title to sign that he finally found, then the guy gave him $50, and said he’ll get it today or tomorrow. Tom said he doesn’t know if the guy believes or understands that the car really is broken. The car could be fixed up and driven for miles, but it’d take time and money.

I hope Tom’s back is better soon enough.

I did that advanced abs video I could never do before, and sure enough, I did every single exercise without a strain or a problem. Tom and I talked about getting a machine to really tone up since there’s only so much you can do lying on a floor. Tom wants it for strengthening his back. This is the second time this has happened to him, and he says he can’t let this happen, even if it’s only every 6 months.

Unbelievably, no one came next door today. What luck, huh?! We’ll be compensated, I’m sure, but oh how I wish that place could just stay vacant till we move! I wish those freeloaders could’ve been our last neighbors! I asked Tom why he thought those people I saw didn’t move in since the place appears to be done, and he said that maybe they could’ve been shown a few houses they had available and this one wasn’t their pick. Maybe, but the waiting list is huge. Why keep the place empty like this? Well, the longer it’s empty, the happier I’ll be.

I had said earlier that I was shocked that Andy didn’t call all weekend, but he did, according to Tom. He just didn’t leave a message. Yeah, he’s taken to calling a lot without leaving messages. Knowing how much he loves to babble, this tells me all the more that he’s doing it just to get attention. Just so I have to hear the phone and check the ID box (if I’m up). It gives him a sense of control, I guess.

Tom got me a couple of packs of fluorescent-colored paper. Each pack has 20 sheets of 10 colors. One pack will finish my journal printing project. If all goes well, I should have 5 sheets left over from the first pack.

I’m back from 112 pounds to 108 pounds, but there’d still be a big difference for the better if I could just get down right around 100 pounds, but I won’t count on it.

Yesterday, Tom trimmed the front hedges. That’s all he did. I’m telling you, we’re not gonna make it out of here in July or August at the slow rate he’s going. Sometimes I wonder if that’s what he wants. He seems to be obsessed with procrastinating, as well as with being different. Being a disorganized slob is one of his obsessions too, and I got really mad at this favorite pastime of his yesterday. Two Mexicans came to our door wanting to take the old car to Mexico and fix it up. They were gonna give us $50 to tow it, but the slob couldn’t find the title. The guys say they’ll return on Tuesday.

I’m sending a birthday card/letter to Becky. This is gonna sound cruel and selfish, I know, but mainly it’s to keep Tammy from calling. I’m sure that if I didn’t call or send Becky anything, Tammy would call bitching about it (like she’d ever have sent our kid anything if we had had one, right!). Who knows, though? She may call bitching about my only sending something and not calling. If she does, that’s her problem. She’s not gonna get the reaction she wants out of me, that’s for sure. We should be moved by Sarah’s birthday (I hope!). Then, a year from now, Tammy will hear from me one last time before I snip the strings for the final time and cut her loose. But as soon as we move, the bitch, the folks, the brother, and the pest will get their last word from me. Tammy will get a bullshit letter saying we had twins by way of in vitro, live in a 5-bedroom house on a 3.3-acre lot, and that I make/sell porcelain dolls. Half of this stuff may be true too, but just knowing how furious the so-called twins part of it will make her and the folks really cracks me up. Then, I shall get on with my life in peace.

It’s pretty funny how my interests have really changed throughout the time I’ve known Tom. Besides him, other people I know, the animals in general, reading, writing, singing, and listening to music, if you look at the different time frames, different words pop out at you as you skim through the pages. The common words in the beginning, are sex, pregnant, and baby. Then it changes to bitch, bass, and basketball. Lastly, to dolls, moving, and rats.

I don’t know if this would be easier said than done, but if I were to end up pregnant now that I don’t want a child (even though that’s impossible) I wouldn’t abort it, but it’d get no prenatal care, I’d stop my vitamins, eat really shitty, and pray to God to lose it for me.

It’s a pretty noisy one out there now as I prepare to write. Yes, even in the middle of the night it can be noisy around here, even though it’s been great overall as far as kids and music go. The collies are back to barking even throughout the night. For a while, they had given me peace at night. Usually, they go off just to go off, but not tonight. Tonight there was a whole carload of old ladies that pulled up in front of the music people’s house, as I still call it, laughing and acting like a bunch of college kids. Tonight was also a classic example of what I mean when I say that these dogs are extreme barkers. There are at least three dogs that I’ve heard of that live in yards across the street within about a 6-house span. They weren’t going off. Only the collies had to go off. And they kept on going long after the old ladies pulled away. Yeah, I think those sick, inconsiderate fucks ought to receive a letter from me too, after we move, but I’ll act like I still live around here. What I still don’t get is how can they sleep??? How can even the soundest of sleepers sleep throughout all that loud barking that’s so close to their beds?

My vibes say no one’s moving in this weekend next door, although I dreamt that some white folks moved in there. That’s not gonna happen.

Tom’s at work for a few hours tonight, believe it or not. As I’ve told him, there’ll always be something new or out of the ordinary going on at that bank where he’ll have to work overtime or during his usual time off. He says new people are going to be hired, but that won’t make a difference. If God’s gonna let him have more free time, that probably won’t be till he retires. Maybe he’ll let him have a little after we move, knowing we could use him around here a little more now, but God’s not entirely against us with the move. Not so far, anyway. My credit report came back and it’s clean! As Tom said, that could’ve been a serious obstacle for us.

If I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a million times - God, don’t ever let me dream a non-material dream again! If I do, though, since that’s not something we can usually control, at least I’ve learned through time/experience not to do anything about trying to obtain the dream. Why exhaust and frustrate myself struggling for the impossible, when I could be living and enjoying the possible? I don’t enjoy all the possible things. No one does. But you know what I mean.

I asked him if his ma had any plans to help us move or give us money before she dies since she has about a year left, give or take a couple of months. 

No. Of course, not. I should’ve known better than to ask. He said she was afraid to give any money out before dying for fear of people deserting her. My first response was oh, poor poor Marge, but then Tom pointed out that we all can’t help our fears (like my fear of spiders). Anyway, I still have mixed feelings about her. She’s helped us in several ways, but sometimes, it just seems like she doesn’t help us where it really counts. That’s great that she bought Tom his contact lenses, but the cost of that is nothing compared to the cost of moving. And again, I still resent all the money and time we lost together. We were just newlyweds at the time and I needed him home with me. Now that we’ve been together this long, I still love him as much and want to be with him as much, but it doesn’t hurt so much to have him tied up. As far as the sexual end of it, things have never been the same since quitting smoking, even if the sex still is satisfactory and fulfilling enough. Ever since I quit smoking I really extinguished a big part of my sex drive along with the cigarettes. Just like I almost went back to smoking cuz of my weight, I almost went back to smoking to up my drive again, but then I said, nah. There’s no point in upping a drive that can’t be taken care of. We don’t have time for sex more than once a week and I don’t think my crotch would appreciate that very much at all. At least I don’t have to fear pregnancy and go through the hassles of birth control. It’s great to know he can cum all he wants to and not worry that it could make a kid. And it’s great to know I’m not pregnant cuz I chose not to be, regardless of the fact that that’s just part of my destiny anyway. Destiny or not, I chose not to be a mother so we could move and live life together. I may not be a doll maker after all, but at least I can collect. I may only be able to get the dolls I really like once every 5 years, but I can still get them, and other dolls.

So, to sum it up, my vibes aren’t certain as to what he’ll be doing when we move, I’ll probably be doing what I’ve always done since knowing Tom, and the health and sex will probably stay the same. That’s good on the sex part, cuz usually, if sex changes after 5 years of marriage, it isn’t for the better. It doesn’t get any better than this, which is plenty good enough, but I’d hate to ever see him bored with me. I’m sure he won’t be, though. If he were gonna bored out on me, he’d have done it by now. We’ve fallen into a comfortable routine.

I’m glad he met Dureen and Art, if only for that one time. That way he could really see what I mean as to their characters/personalities. It’s one thing for him to go by my hearsay, but another to see for himself what I meant. They didn’t do/say all they’re capable of doing/saying when they were here, thank God, but he too, is good with people’s characters and could see the positive/negative/abusive traits lurking underneath.

Can you believe a black ink cartridge costs $25 and a color one costs $29?! But why? It’s just ink, for Christ’s sake. So, although it’s a one-time deal and is well worth it, printing my journals out will end up being a $300-$400 project. Tom said we ought to get me a laserjet printer. It only prints in black, but you can print thousands of pages for about $80 or so.

Later...

I’m doing laundry now. Just changed the sheets, too.

Melanie called yesterday to remind me of my Monday appointment. I asked if I was still her patient and she said I was. I have mixed emotions about that, too. Mel’s faster and prettier, but rougher. At least it doesn’t matter as much now that my teeth are where they’re at. It’s not gonna be as painful, anyway.

Tom looked in that area where the houses were on acre lots. He said he couldn’t find the house that was advertised, but that the area sucked anyway. He said it was old farmland being converted into a development. Just dirt. No natural desert landscape like we want. He said everything was in clumps, too. You’d have a house with nothing around it for miles, then a cluster of trailers. Yeah, Arizona seems to be hung up on clumps. You either have a lot of people or no one around for miles.

Also, another problem with the area was that there was a prison nearby.

Last night, out of curiosity, I browsed through the national white pages online and came across Michael M’s name. He moved from Hamden to Longmeadow, so I see. Mike was the closest I ever came to having a crush on a guy before meeting Tom. This was when I was in the real high school when I was a freshman. He was my chorus teacher. Anyway, he ended up marrying another student. I last spoke to him somewhere between 1989-1991. They were trying to have kids, but his wife Daryl had just had a miscarriage. By now I’m sure they have a family. I wrote a half-sane, half-wacky letter. I put my return address on only cuz I know I don’t have to worry about him writing me back, which I’d prefer he not do. He’s in the past. I just wanted to surprise him, that’s all. I stuck in a few pictures of myself from when I looked my best in the mid-90s that I scanned and printed out. That ought to shock him too, since I did not look like that the last time I saw him. If I remember right, I last saw him in 1984 at 130-something pounds.

I’d bet my dolls on Andy’s calling this weekend. He’ll use his trip as an excuse, but that’s OK. Of course, I don’t even know for sure that Andy will be leaving Monday as he says. You know Andy - always gotta be late on things and make big deals of things.

Later...

I’m gonna start sleeping with a notebook by my bed so I can make notes of my dreams upon waking till I get around to typing them up. The longer I’m up, the more I forget my dreams.

Did the renters move after all? There have been no cars over there.

We screwed a little while ago and I made the dumb mistake of not using lubricant. I was so dry. I really need to use it all the time, even if it is a hassle. Besides, it’s a great spermicide cuz sperm can’t swim through its thick stickiness.

As I figured too, he did nothing about going down on me. The sex was the usual - too much time on the side, then too little time up top. He never wanted to please me. Never. All he wanted to do was play games, then please himself after the years of my bitching about his games finally got to him. Oh well. It’s only sex.