For about 60 seconds I could hear that car stereo somewhere towards the front of the house. It was maybe half a mile to a mile away. Fortunately, this car seems to be just a visitor and not someone who lives there or else I’d hear it every day and not just on weekends. And I don’t hear it every weekend. We better not! We moved out here to live in peace, not listen to other people’s music. When I’m at home, I don’t want to know anyone other than my husband exists, and if I want to hear music, it’ll be mine. I’m sooo glad every weekend that goes by that I’m not in Phoenix! It’s been six months now since we left and It’s just oh so nice to know that right now I don’t have to be stressing like crazy and trying to keep from wishing I could kill those freeloaders. I know it’s got to be a nightmare over there right now unless they simmered down upon my leaving. If they did it’d only be because God never had it in for the H’s as far as noise went, and God could and would have the Mexicans happen to quiet down. Either that or God would have it so that the H’s don’t mind their little antics.

It’s such a great feeling knowing no one lives just a few feet away, and knowing I can go to bed anxiety-free and not have to wonder if their fucking stereo’s gonna wake me up. The military might, though, if they start up on the 1st and if I don’t keep my schedule on days, so I’m gonna wait and see what they do. I was stressed out 95% of the time I lived in Phoenix. I was either stressing over what noise they might sic on me or fuming mad at noise they were siccing on me. Always with me, always with them. That’s how it was. Well, no more and never again! Hee, hee!!

Every weekend, I’m as curious as I am grateful. Meaning, I wonder all the time - just how do the H’s feel about living next to a pack of sick Mexicans? Just how do they have the house decorated? Did they recarpet? Repaint? Remodel the kitchen? Put a new floor down in it? And just how do the Mexicans feel about being boxed in by five dogs? Yeah, I know - stupid question. They couldn't care less.

Anyway, we went out today to the Walgreens in Sun Lakes. Of course, we had to drive 10-15 miles below the speed limit some of the time. The last time I was out when we got the mice, we stopped at the Walgreens near there to see if I could find a small super ball for the rats, but they only had big ones. They had the skater Barbie I want, too. That day Tom said there was money for either the mice or the Barbie and to take my pick. Naturally, I picked the mice. Today’s choice was the Barbie, if it was there, or Dairy Queen. Well, we ended up having Dairy Queen as well as a few things from the store, but no balls or Barbies. I figured this one wouldn’t have that Barbie. This one’s harder to come by. I got a couple of pairs of panties since I’m sick of having only three pairs that aren’t too tight. I also got White Musk cologne. He got patches for a rip in his pants. Lastly, this sticky stuff that you can use to hang posters, pictures, and whatever, but it’s crap. I got the cool idea of sticking my Barbies to the wall, but they were too heavy, then the damn shit made a mark on the wall. If there’s anything I don’t like about these walls it’s the papery texture. I like the glossy, slick, smooth walls better which allow you to wipe things off so much easier. Things like spaghetti sauce just get absorbed into this stuff.

Tom fixed the Barbie stand I have. I never set it up right, I guess. He also straightened Colette’s leg. As my shit doll luck would have it, I always thought that she was leaning over a bit too much, making her pose look a bit unnatural, so he straightened one of the legs which was attached at a poor angle, so he could straighten her up a bit and make her look much better.

This is the second weekend to go by without a call from Paula. Maybe she finally did lose her phone.