Mom had an unfortunate, yet funny experience on her birthday a couple of days ago. They were leaving her home alone on Wednesdays, but not anymore! She was drawing with charcoal, then decided to go outside to dust it off. She’s not supposed to go outside, but she did anyway, and she tripped and fell. She managed to crawl back into the house but couldn’t see the phone numbers, so she got the operator to call Dave at work for her. She asked if he’d come pick her up and Dave said he couldn’t. So he called Mary and told her she wanted to be picked up. Mary was like, “What do you mean she wants to be picked up? She’s not even at the center. She’s home.” Then Dave was like – that’s right, she is!

This weekend I’m hoping we can go over there because their Internet connection is lightning fast, and they have a brand-new CD burner that allows them to burn CDs quickly, without it being hit or miss, and usually miss, like ours. I swear, every machine we have is either broken, or has something wrong with it where it works, but not as it should. My new printer won’t do envelopes. The question is – will I hex their CD burner? I want to make CDs of MP3 files so I can have a lot of the songs I’ve accumulated on tape on CD which sounds much better.

Amazingly, I had not one appointment all week, but I’m booked up for the next 3 weeks. Gotta see Apple Cheeks next week and the week after. Then the week after that I go to the dentist, although I’m looking forward to that one and getting these teeth permanently retained.

I don’t know what I wish more right now; that Teddy Bear was with me, or that Tom and I were sound asleep in the middle of nowhere, drifting on the ocean, knowing that the radar would sense any approaching ships, sounding off its alarm to warn us.

I spoke to Gina yesterday, who called to let me know I have 25 hours for the month of August. I have just 18 hours left, and she said Tom could pick up bottles this Saturday when he drops off recyclable stuff, even though it’s not my week, cuz there are tons of bottles.

We also got to talking a bit about my case.

“Publish that book,” she says! “It’s a topic that needs to be addressed more.”

I’d have to edit out too much shit to publish it. If I can’t tell a story like it is, then it’s not worth telling.

So, do I think the freeloaders know I’m almost done with my community service? Sure I do. I’m sure they’re given regular little report cards along the way.

Today’s Tom’s mom’s birthday. She’s 78.

Oh, Teddy Bear, I miss you so bad at times it hurts! My eyes sting with tears. A part of me wishes we’d never met. It’d be easier, that’s for sure. I totally regret not being able to be with her just as much as I have no regrets about marrying Tom. This goes beyond my wanting her between my legs; I fell in love with her. Completely and utterly in love with her.

I was bummed not to get a letter from Mary yesterday, but I know I will sooner or later. I was thinking about how she said they might make a movie about her case, and you know, I’m really surprised they haven’t made one about my case. Hers is certainly far more movie material than mine, but with all the media attention it’s already gotten, a movie wouldn’t surprise me. Anything and everything is entertainment these days. It doesn’t matter how serious or how petty it is.

Just got out of the tub which the freeloaders take over tomorrow. It’s looking like I’m going to be right about finishing the community service in September, then the freeloaders will let me have my tub back for good (I hope!).

I back-combed my long bangs to poof them out, threw my hair in a braid (just below the waist when pulled straight), and now I’m ready to finish off the night with reading, writing and music. I already did my workout.

They definitely would’ve called by now if my thyroid was out of whack, so I’m just naturally heavy like most people over 30. To keep my weight from going any higher, I’ll still have between 1000-1200 calories, with the exception of my weekly treat, and I’ll still work at building muscle, but I have no choice but to accept the fact that I’ll be between 115-120 pounds indefinitely.

Autumn, the doll that Mary and Dave got me for Christmas, has arms that are bent, so I put the little teddy bear that the first doll I got (the one I stole at the Vista) had in the crook of her arm and packed the other doll away. I’m sick of that old doll.

I looked at all my dolls and decided which ones I’d take and which ones I’d leave behind if we were going on the boat now. About half of them would go.

I want my Teddy Bear. Oh, how I still miss that woman! I lust for her, and yes, I did fall in love with her. I really really love her! I can’t keep from wondering, though – does she miss me, too? Does she think of me hour after hour, day after day? Is she single or not?

I was thinking earlier how in all the apartments I’ve had in Arizona, I never got any complaints about blasting my music. Back east, though, I always did. Well, now I most certainly understand why! I couldn’t know at the time, though, while I was in the Arizona apartments that I was just being a normal, typical Arizonan, doing what was expected of me – sharing my music with those around me. Back east, though, this is not tolerated.

There was a dead scorpion on the floor of my office. This one was little and appeared to have been dead for weeks cuz of the way it crumbled when Tom picked it up, but how did it suddenly get there? I would’ve noticed it before.

This night is slowly dragging by (I got up at 4 PM). I guess I’ll just mainly do proofreading as well as regular reading and listening to music. At least I’m free, home, and freeloaderless, if I’m not on the boat yet, and even if I miss Teddy Bear, Mary, Rosa, Palma, Pérez, Chambers, Espi and Temple.

The pain in my knees seems to have gotten worse lately. I’m beginning to wonder when and if it’ll ever go away.

I thought that I’d make a little addition to Teddy Bear’s copy of the jailhouse journal just to be funny and to see how closely she reads it. I’d assume, though, that she’d read the whole thing pretty thoroughly. And get a kick out of most of it. Especially the parts pertaining to her. Anyway, I’m going to add that besides living in Georgia, she also told me she lived in Canada. You never know. It may just turn out that she really did!

I scanned Mary’s picture and printed out a few copies for her. That way, she’ll have copies to give to others if she wants to. I let her know I’d do this with any picture she wanted me to.

Tom let them have it at work for using him. They’re totally taking advantage of him and ripping him off. He was supposed to get time off for overtime once he got salary pay, but instead, they’re running him ragged, working him overtime, and not giving him time off. He put his foot down today and let them know - this is ridiculous!

He saw his mom after work. I gave them all a bunch of puzzles and she gave Tom a couple to give to me. I started one earlier.

Tom also planted the seeds. Meaning, he told Mom how much I like Pepper, telling her not to tell Mary, knowing that she will anyway. That way she won’t feel put on the spot and like she has to make a decision right away as she would if it came directly from us.

They’re also getting a truck, and since we’ll never have one at the rate we’re going, they offered to let us use it anytime we want. That was very nice of them, and we appreciate the offer.

Now I’ll explain what I meant by “the boat.” Tom had the grandest idea yet on our way to Helen’s yesterday. Instead of buying other land elsewhere if we make a lot of money selling this place if the area builds up as I predicted, we could buy a boat and make our home the south Pacific Ocean! Oh, how I’d love that! That’d really be escaping civilization, that’s for sure! No people, no traffic, no spiders, no scorpions, no ants, no pigs, no freeloaders, no off-brands, no laws. Just Tom, whatever we have for pets at the time, fresh air, sky and water (burglars would be impossible)! I just hope we don’t have to wait 20 years to do it. Tom’s going to check into how much boats cost. I would think they wouldn’t really cost any more or less than houses on land do. Naturally, we couldn’t do this unless we could afford for Tom not to work. Hopefully, though, we won’t have to wait till he’s retired. We’d buy the boat outright, then our only expenses would be food, which we’d buy in bulk quantities (we’d get powdered milk instead of regular milk), and the fuel to run the generator for electricity. We’d probably have some type of cell phone, which is now capable of being functional in the middle of the ocean. We wouldn’t be able to have TV, though. A satellite needs to point in the same direction all the time, and we sure as hell couldn’t pick up cable TV out there. Although he’d miss TV, and I’d miss it for the music channels, he says he’d still have his computers and other things, as would I.

We’d have to do email for everything. Nobody could get mail to us, but I suppose we could get a PO Box somewhere in Hawaii, New Zealand or Australia.

I was surprised when Tom mentioned this. For some reason, I had always been under the impression that he didn’t like oceans and tropical climates. I love tropical as much as the desert. Maybe more. It’s the cold and the snow that I don’t miss! It may get a little nippy out at sea at times, but I don’t care. It’s a dream I intend to fulfill someday, and I think I can, too. It’s a material dream. It’s the “action” dreams like being a singer that don’t come true for me, although my Teddy Bear is no “thing.”

She and Mary are my only concerns, but who can say what kind of a relationship, if any, I’ll have with them at the time? It’s too soon to worry about that, as much as I wish Teddy Bear could be a part of my life forever. Again, that’s just not reasonable being with Tom. If I were single, then yes, perhaps we could have a life together, but I can’t expect her to always have a part-time fling going with me and not settle down with someone who can live with her and be with her full-time. Also, if I had to choose between her and the boat with Tom, you know I have to choose the boat with Tom. I wouldn’t think twice about that one.

What’ll be so cool is the constantly changing view. Here, although the view is gorgeous, it never changes. It’ll be similar, though, cuz for the most part, all we’ll see is water.

Because boats have built-in furniture, which you have to have for obvious reasons, we wouldn’t take a thing with us furniture-wise. We’d take the Bowflex, though, of course, and our personal shit. Not all of it, though. Breakables will have to be secured, which would be a bit of a bitch, so I’d probably leave my least favorite cheap dolls behind, as well as some knickknacks. We’d have an open-house tag sale. I may not even do mice on the boat. Rats, though, I’ll always have.

I wish we could do this before 10/2003 and stiff the black bitch, but I know that’s just a dream! They’d be so pissed too, if I absconded.

Someday, some future occupant of this house is going to be in for a surprise if they peel the Velcro panel off the side of the tub and discover the goodies I’m leaving behind – a few knickknacks I don’t want, an old ugly purse, a journal page, and some ugly material ma gave me. At each end of the tub, there’s a Velcro panel. The one by the faucet is where you can see the plumbing and all that, but the one towards the back of the tub is just hollow space.

Two mice broke out of one of the cages. As soon as we got back from Helen’s, I spotted one white mouse running across the bedroom, and another one pulled itself up on top of the maze. The maze sits on top of the small tank, and apparently, I hadn’t centered it, so there were gaps big enough for them to squeeze through. I could tell they broke out right before I got home. The animals aren’t used to me being out, as many appointments as I have, and it was around feeding time.

Little Buddy still comes out to run around and play with me a few times a day, and Teddy Bear screams at me all night long.

So I was right. When we moved, I was pretty much under the impression that this would be our last move. When we got here, though, I knew I was wrong. At least it’ll be a beautiful place and house to live in till we do sail to sea!

Serenity. That’s going to be our boat’s name.

Better do some updating before I fall behind.

Later on, I have to go see Helen. Meanwhile, I had two appointments yesterday. I was in and out for blood work. It was the surprise urine sample they wanted that held me up, but it worked out OK because I had time to kill anyway between the two appointments. Still, if the doctor had told me that they’d want urine, I’d have drunk a lot beforehand. We sat at a table near the vending machines while I guzzled strawberry/kiwi punch till I could go.

Again, this dentist is way better. She has a rapid, high-pitched voice that’s a bit obnoxious, but she’s very friendly, telling me I’m a good patient, and she does a good job. She filled my fillings quickly and painlessly, taking the time to tell me what she was doing, step by step.

I had commented on it being cold in there, then went to the bathroom in between the two fillings I had done (one was to repair a loose one). When I returned, I found that they were kind enough to give me a blanket!

I can’t wait till September 17th. That’ll be the day I’ll not only get the custom-made trays for the fluoride and bleach treatments but both upper and lower teeth will be permanently arched! It’ll take 3 installments of $130, though. Hopefully, I’ll never have to put so much money in my mouth again!

After the dentist, we went to Mary’s. Of course, Mary and Dave were at work and Ma was at daycare. We did wait around to see them, though. We hit the pool and Pepper was so funny. I like that dog more and more each time I see him, and I think that in a year or so if we get fences and a doggie door, that dog will be ours. Tom says Mary would hand him over to us the second we said the word. He follows me around a lot and sits by my feet. He’s a 40-pound black cocker spaniel. They got him from the Humane Society. He was a lot of fun when we were swimming, lapping up the water as I’d make waves by jumping off the diving board. I even dived too, which Mary says is scary. Anyway, poor Pepper ended up throwing up all that chlorinated pool water he drank. He took a shit too, in the house that Tom stepped on.

I got two letters from Mary in which she enclosed a picture the media took in one of them. It’s a nice picture, too. Her makeup looks nice. Nice full lips I wish I had. Her red hair tips were brown, though. Upon the suggestion of her lawyer, she’d take brown crayons prior to every court appearance and color the red part brown to match the rest of it. She looks awfully thin, though. In the picture, her lawyer sits next to her, but I cropped him out and put her in a small frame in the den.

She says she didn’t flee to Florida with “Monster.” Monster went first to try to escape his child abuse charges, and then she met up with him later. I’d certainly believe her before I believed anything the media said.

She also says she’s in 4 now, and her only celly at the moment is Nancy, who’s facing 30-50 years and goes to trial on the 20th (yesterday). I was shocked when I heard 30-50 years! I thought it was more like 7.

Marla went to the tents and then to Alpha, and Laticia goes home in a couple of months to do 7 years of intense probation. She too, doesn’t care for Laticia and her loud, rude, obnoxious ways. She says she’s a snitch, too (I believe it). Then she told me something concerning Laticia and Teresa. I thought these bitches were buddies, but they’ve obviously turned on each other from what it sounds like. I couldn’t quite understand what Mary was telling me, though. Something about Teresa writing some letter that Laticia snitched on her for, getting her into more trouble. The men in black and the FBI came and tore up her cell and interrogated her cellmates.

So, of the people I knew, Laticia, Teresa, Marla, and Nancy are still there. There’s probably more. I’ll bet Becky’s still there, too.

She says the DOs that usually do 1st shift are Tomaszewski, Toye, Hudgens, and Vasquez.

So Toye and Hudgens are no longer 2nd and 3rd shifts, huh? So many DOs have switched shifts. She didn’t mention Teddy Bear, so I asked her if she’s still on 2nd shift on her usual day of Monday. I kind of wish she’d switch to 1st shift. Because I’m not a morning person, we could hang out together after work if she wanted to. The only problem with that is that that’s when Tom’s home and she couldn’t stay up late with me if she had to be at work early. It’d be ideal if she was 1st shift and Tom was 2nd or 3rd.

She says 3rd shift is all new except for Jones (I asked her if Pérez ever switched to 2nd shift like she mentioned), there are a few new 2nd shift DOs, but Gibb works a lot, too.

Then she had me laughing my ass off after she said, “It’s Gibb, isn’t it?” I was like, Gibb? Gibb??? Gotta guess a little taller than that, Mary!

I don’t know why in the world she thinks it’s Gibb. She begged for a hint, so I told her she has a slight southern drawl. It’s very slight, but it’s there.

She says that although she still wants to get a book out there, she’s been having writer’s block. Also, they may make a movie about her case, which would be too bad, since they’d plug in whatever they wanted into the story. It’d be best if she got a book out so that there could be a true version of her story, although folks are always going to believe what they want to believe.

Later…

Saw Helen. I asked for her feedback about the fact that Tom and I haven’t had sex since I’ve been out. I explained to her that neither of us has been interested in that, although we still love each other. She said she’s heard people tell her that their relationships have evolved into platonic relationships after being together for many years. She said that as long as we’re both happy, why worry about or try to change what works for us? She said if it works for us both, it’s fine.

That’s what I figured she’d say, but I just wanted to make sure. I agree with her, too. She did say, though, to let Tom know that I’m open to discussion about it should he decide to bring it up in the future.

Of course. I’m up to discussing anything.

Anyway, Helen assured me I wasn’t neglecting him and that he’s a big boy who can speak up and come to me if he wants to do anything, and I believe this. For now, if we’re happy as we are, that’s all that matters, and I won’t bring the subject up unless he does, though Helen urges me to go to him if I want it. We’ll see. Who knows how I’ll feel down the road?

He told me earlier he was confused about us sleeping together. I had thought he said he wanted to do this when I got out, but then he said I didn’t want to. Well, let’s put it this way. I’m not going to say we’ll never try sleeping together, but for now, with my having so many appointments, I’d rather wait. I probably could get back to sleep at this point if he kept waking me up. I just didn’t think this was a good time to try. If I could ever get my appointments down, then maybe. Or better yet, I’d like to wait till we get to the boat cuz boats move all the time (I’ll explain the ‘boat’ later), which I’m hoping won’t take too many years. Since we’re platonic, and appearing more and more like we’re going to settle into being that way indefinitely or forever, there’s no hurry. Hell, my grandparents never slept together. A lot of couples don’t. Either way, we know we’ll both always love each other, and again, that’s what it all comes down to. That’s what’s most important. Where we sleep is secondary to that. I love him whether or not he sleeps 3” or 70’ away from me.

Helen also read this thing to me, explaining the difference between anger and rage and its destructiveness. She also read to me the positive side of anger and how it sometimes helps to motivate us.

We also talked about how I’m afraid to succeed for fear of someone ruining my accomplishments or stealing them from me altogether.

After Helen’s, we stopped at that pet store to pick up sawdust. Pine and cedar bedding are supposed to be bad for critters, so we’re trying something new. It’s 100% recycled paper. It’s tiny clumps that look like gray gravel. It’s almost damp-like. So far, I like how it’s dust-free, but time will tell if it really lasts twice as long and how well it absorbs piss and odors.

It’s looking less and less likely, at least to me, that I’ll be getting any kind of a home job. Thanks to the freeloaders, there’s only so much I can do anyway, as a convicted felon. Tom still thinks I ought to try to write for profit, and that we could still do farming, but I don’t see it. Besides, I’m afraid to set goals for myself and to set out to do any particular thing because that’s never worked for me in the past. Besides, I’ve been a homemaker for so long that it’s obviously what I’m meant to be. I wouldn’t have been this way this long if it weren’t for a reason, and because I’ve been this way as long as I have, it seems unlikely that it’d change.

Anyway, I’ll be the bored homemaker that I was before the freeloaders took over my life, but at least I’ll be a free one. Not totally free, though. Not for a couple of years yet. I still gotta do this for them and do that for them. What I’m saying is I’d rather be bored in the comfort of my own big, beautiful home, than cramped in a jail cell with cellies that are loud, rude and obnoxious, waking me up all the time, along with the nurse screaming, “Are you OK?” And the clothes exchanges. And the 8:00 hour outs for scalding hot or ice-cold showers. And the cold, starchy food.

I think another thing that’s got me hesitant to get into things like writing, besides the fact that I don’t think I’m good enough, know that publishing’s a bitch, and don’t feel it’s meant to be, is because if I did succeed, I know it’d just be a matter of time before somebody came and tore down whatever success I built up for myself. It’s like – why work out faithfully when the freeloaders may come and tear down all the muscles I built up by having me thrown in jail for half a year? Why get a farm going when the freeloaders could come and kill all the animals?

I know it’s a shitty attitude to have and that’s letting them win and stop me from living life (whenever I get the opportunity to do so), but I can’t help but feel the way I do.

The queen of appointments here has two appointments tomorrow, and amazingly enough, none are for the freeloaders. I’m getting blood drawn, then I’m going to the dentist. After that, we’re going to go swimming at Mary’s.

Got up at noon today. We dropped some bottles off, sprayed the outside of the doors/windows (there were 3 spiders in here last night), put gas in the car, got us each a blizzard from Dairy Queen, headed home and now another tire is leaking air.

We think we know where the mice broke in. Probably through the vent in the bathroom area. That’s where I initially heard the chewing sounds, and besides, I could feel air coming through an outlet in that area when the AC was on. Leave it to us to have this happen. I’ll bet if we asked every single owner of a manufactured home within a 20-mile radius, no one would say they had anything like that happen to them.

Tom did some cleaning on my computer and I did some housecleaning. I also changed the pig and the rats. Now all I have to do is work out. I decided to work out every day, rather than alternate between upper body one day and lower body the next. It’s not like I’m working each muscle for an hour, so it won’t be too much for me. It’s just that I know I’m not going to lose the fat, so I may as well concentrate on getting as strong as I can and building up as much muscle as I can.

Got a picture of Mary attached to her email to me.

Yesterday, when my alarm went off at 10:00, I was having one of those typical jail dreams I have periodically. Not where I’m being thrown back in there, but where I never left. In the dream, I was alone in what appeared to be a nice, comfortable room, rather than a cell. A DO I’d never seen before came in asking why I was in Ad-Seg. I knew I had a month left to go. In fact, my release date was something like March 6th. I tried to make up any excuse I could, but she insisted I return to general pop and told me to roll up. Suddenly, I was milling about as if I were some trustee when the alarm went off. I hit the snooze button and fell back asleep, hoping that the dream would continue so I could see if I was thrown in the tents or the dorms and it did. I realized, in the dream, that it had been a few hours since my moving was mentioned and hoped that they had forgotten about it, but they didn’t. Just as I was thinking this, though, a voice over a loudspeaker told me to roll up. Then I awoke again before I could protest or find out where I was going.

Apple Cheeks came today at 10:30, a half-hour after I woke up. I know I’m in for a drug test next time I report. He was telling me to always bring my meds with me in case he has to test me.

I shredded a bunch of old journal printouts for the mice to use as nesting, and boy was I wrong when I saw that upon sending the journals to the welfare bums, I said that cops act on actions and not words. Not in this state! It used to be that way, though, and it probably still is in most places.

The toys came today. I thought I ordered 2 vibrators, but I guess not, according to the invoice. I still got 2 anyway, because one of them was a freebie. We also got a video and some raspberry warming massage gel. Teddy Bear could put it on my clitty and lick it off!

Not that I mind since it’s mutual, but Tom shows no more desire for sex with me than I do with him. No apparent interest in sleeping together, either. I wonder why he said he was so excited about it. I guess he was just being what he felt was “polite,” so to speak. The proper thing to say, I guess. I guess for some people, it’s easier to say that than to admit you’re not interested, but he’s never been all that interested anyway. I can tell he’s been this way all his life, too. This isn’t usually something that you acquire with age. I wonder if any of his exes ever left him over his lack of appetite and lack of cumming. I’d think he’d tell me if they did, but maybe not. That’s not an easy thing to admit, either. He didn’t admit up front how he was sexually. He just waited till I found out for myself. At least I know he still loves me, despite what he may or may not feel in regard to sex.

I was thinking last night how his room still needed a nightstand, and then I glanced over at the little shelves in my room on the other side of the bed and realized it was a waste having it sit there just to hold a couple of dolls, some books and a few knickknacks when it could serve as a nightstand in that room. So, I moved it in there today and rearranged a lot of the rooms in general. Actually, just our rooms and my office.

Another scorpion down. I was working out when I noticed it. This one was huge! It was twice as big as the other one I killed, nearly 3” long. It was on the living room windowsill.

Saw Dr. Rose today. He gave me refills on the nasal spray and inhaler. In place of the Theo, he’s giving me an inhaler I used to take a while back. He’s also sending me for blood work to run tests to see if I’ve got anything going on that’s been causing the ridges in my nails, or if it’s just the way I am. It’s probably just the way I am, but we’ll see. This test also tests the thyroid, too.

Afterward, we went to Walgreens. I got another sports bra, a pair of panties, and glitter nail polish that turns from fuchsia to pink as your body heat warms it. Run your fingers under cold water, and it’s bright pink again! It’s pretty cool. I put some on Bailey’s nails and Angel’s lips.

I also got a new Barbie in a 2-piece bathing suit with bold colors – pink, lime green and purple. At first I didn’t think it was all that different from my others, but not only is her hairstyle slightly different, but she’s got a sculpted belly with a belly button and all.

Tom said that according to the prints on the ground, the horses that were here were not wild horses because they were wearing shoes.

People let their dogs roam loose out here, so why not their horses, too?

I noticed that some of the male babies’ balls are dropping, so I sexed them as best as I could. I’ll keep an eye on them as they develop and try to pair boys with men and girls with women. I still intend to breed more. I’d just like to have some control over who breeds with whom, if possible. It appears that this time around, there are a lot more girls than boys.

Oh, Teddy Bear, I still miss you so much!

Although I’m polite and not friendly when it comes to Apple Cheeks, we ended up making a little bit of small talk yesterday, anyway. He was asking Tom about his job and telling me, “Well, your community service is almost done, you’re almost done with the anger management, you got the screening done, so all you have to do is stay out of trouble and report.”

This was good to hear. Meaning, I took it as a good sign saying he won’t harass me about the job. Tom says that unless I can find a job working for someone, I shouldn’t even bother to tell him. Meaning that if I end up being an independent contractor, I should never divulge my edges, so to speak, and not use them unless I need to. However, he did ask me what medications I was on. For him to ask this out of the blue and for the first time in a while, makes me think I’m in for a drug test next time around.

Jack and Jill turned out to be Jack and Zach, so I set them free yesterday about a mile from the house. I didn’t want them anyway, because they chewed so fiercely that there’d have been no way I could keep them in any of the cages for too long. They just weren’t happy here, either.

Tom picked up bottles this morning and told Gina that I didn’t come along so he could fit more in. As we figured, this was no problem.

Later...

Tom downloaded me a few programs to try out that encrypt files. Any kind of file. Not just doc files. The first one was risky because you only got one shot at typing in your code. If you made a typo, and couldn’t figure out what that typo was, you could never get into the file again, so that one wasn’t good. The next one let you confirm your password, allowing you to type it twice to make sure it matched up with the first one you typed, but it created other files I didn’t want that sort of defeated the purpose. The one I settled on allows me to confirm, use the same code for each file, and choose whether or not I encrypted a few files or my whole directory. First I encrypted my whole directory and then I decrypted the files I didn’t feel were necessary to be encrypted, like my doll and pet charts and petty shit like that. It’s the journal files I wanted to be encrypted.

It’s not as convenient, because now, each time I go to use the computer, I have to first decrypt the files I want to use, then encrypt them when I shut down. I think it’s worth the time and effort, though. Not that I’ve got anything to hide, but because I fear my stuff being stolen by the pigs and I don’t want to make things easier on them. If you did not receive my permission to read my journals or any parts of them, then you will not read them! Period. Any unauthorized people will get garbage; a bunch of meaningless letters, numbers and symbols.

I backed up all my stuff again too, so the stuff on floppies is now encrypted as well. I have a floppy on a couple of dolls that contain my current stuff. Then I have a backup that I keep right here on my desk and a set in the vent. Tom will take care of backing me up on CD and putting that in the ground.

I’m not even going to say what my code is in this journal because they could come and seize this while I was in the middle of working on it. I know it’s being overly cautious and paranoid, but after all I’ve been through, I could never be too cautious/paranoid. Logically looking at it, it seems so unlikely that they’d seize my computer, but we never thought they’d throw me in jail for 6 months over a letter, either. In this state, with the way the system is, one can never be sure of anything.

I’m on a roll vibe-wise. First I vibed that something significant would happen on the 8th, then I vibed the August car trouble, and the last time we got tickets, I vibed we’d win. We did. His ticket won twice on Bingo. A total of $5.

We’re trying out a different mice arrangement. I wanted to just throw them all together and dump the ones I didn’t want to keep the population at a steady 30 or so mice, but he suggested we separate the adult females. Then as the younger females get pregnant, pull them out and put them with the other ladies, and basically keep doing that till we get all the mice we want. It’s just a bitch sexing them! Until they’re older, after they’ve started breeding, it’s not that easy to tell them apart.

When I was changing the rat’s cage, I set the bars on the floor with them inside it. I noticed Little Buddy seemed to be having trouble getting out through the part that’s wider and sits down inside the base, so I put the wire roof back on. Sure enough, though, he came to visit me in the bathroom as I was working on bottles. So, the plastic shelves were put back on.

I wonder just what in the world is up with Paula? I’ve only gotten one letter from her since I’ve been home. Maybe I should quit writing to her till I hear from her. You never know if she’s stuck in jail! I want to make sure she’s OK and getting my mail before I keep writing. I wish she’d write at least once a month! Like the first of every month. It doesn’t have to be a novel. Just the basic highlights of her life would do.

I take that back. Maybe I will have something to hide but from Tom and not the pigs. I still doubt Tom snoops into these journals, but once again, you can’t be too sure about anything in this world. If anything happens between Teddy Bear and I, it could hurt his feelings if he read up on it, although I say that if you’re going to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, you ask for and deserve what you might get from it.

Yesterday turned out to be quite an interesting day. For starters, I was right about it being a day for things to happen. I just didn’t know if they’d be good things or not. One thing that happened was that we got a check from the government we were waiting on. Another thing is that Tom got offered a job as a night shift manager. He was torn between accepting and declining. He wants more money, but he doesn’t want to work nights. Unfortunately, their 2nd shift is considered to be from 5 PM-1 AM, rather than 3 PM-11 PM. So, since God has called upon us to serve and cater to a few of his precious freeloaders, the freeloaders would then interfere with his sleep time rather than his work time, depending on the time of the appointment (wouldn’t God just love us if we gave a percentage of our income to the freeloaders?). I still think he’ll end up taking the job, though, and he still swears he’s going to help me get a home job. Yeah, we’ll get ahead again financially so God can send some more freeloaders to fuck us over and set us back.

Also, yesterday, while I was sitting at the computer, a horse walked by the window! I went outside and there were 4 of them! They were beautiful too, and each one was a different color. They didn’t have any people or bridles on, so they might’ve been wild horses. The one that passed by the window headed towards the back and down to the old single-wide that I guess will forever sit on Dan’s property (I still call it “Dan’s property” because I don’t know who they are). The other 3 were by next door’s shacks, then they ran, neighing all the way, around the front of our house, towards the back, then down by where the other horse had gone.

Of God’s many highlights for me in life, I don’t have to say that one of his favorite things to have happened to me is for me to have my shit taken. For obvious reasons, after having Dureen, the lovely staff members of the places I was in as a kid, then the jail, as well as a few so-called “friends” along the way like Crystal C, I’m paranoid about my stuff. Even money-wise I’ve been severely taken advantage of, before and after meeting Tom. There were people like Nellie R ripping me off on Oswego Street, and now it’s contractors and freeloaders. Therefore, despite how low the chances may be of the pigs legally stealing my journals, Tom’s going to show me how to encrypt them this weekend. If I encrypt them, then they’ll be scrambled. Only I’ll be able to decipher them because I’ll be the only one with the code (password) to open the files. I’m going to scramble all my doc files. Having hidden text would be useless cuz there are plenty of ways to expose hidden text. So, unless Tom’s lying, and he knows of a way he can hack into them, no one can ever get into them but me. I can back them up onto floppies encrypted, too. I can’t yet say what my code words will be or where we’re hiding backups till this is scrambled.

This way, if the pigs do rip off the computers or any disks, I can at least laugh at them when they can’t break into the doc files. With my shit luck, though, the control junkies will bribe me by threatening me with years in prison if I don’t tell them the code. Pigs will get information any way they can. They don’t care who they hurt along the way, either. But I’ll be damned if I’ll make anything easy for them or cooperate with them in any way. We’d be long gone long before they could imprison me for not letting them get their way. As Tom said, though, I have to make sure I remember what the code is, or else I’ll never be able to get back in.

I just brought the two wild ones and their little cage into the office. They’re sitting on the shelf right by the monitor. Maybe if they’re around me more often, they’ll calm down a bit, but I don’t know. It never worked with Gizzy. If Jill’s not pregnant by September 1st, I’ll be kicking them both out.

Tomorrow I’ve got to see Apple Cheeks, but I’m not going to be tagging along on Saturday to pick up bottles. I’m only going along on every other pick-up. That way he can have more room to get more in.

Tom was right, so far, and the appointment yesterday was a breeze. You just cost us another $60, you fucking freeloaders! Despite the additional money, I, the victim, have lost, it was just a matter of answering a whole lot of personal questions concerning my emotional and physical being. I thought some of the questions were pretty funny, like – do I feel pushed around? Do I sometimes wish I was never born?

Do I ever!

Then he says to me, “Well, you’re married, so I assume you’re heterosexual,” when he brought up the subject of sexual orientation.

“Actually, I’m bi,” I answered.

Not that I’m ashamed to say so, but what does my sexual preference have to do with this so-called letter I’m supposed to have written? They even marked that I was white on one of their forms. Why? So they can know who to discriminate against?

Tom, who was with me during my talk with this lady and then the guy who interviewed me, was as confused as we were as to what they wanted. They mainly deal with drug and alcohol cases. Not this shit. So they called Scot, who said that this was just a formality. I informed them up front that I did not intend to return to them and that I already had a therapist. They agreed and wrote the letter Scot said he needed, saying that they don’t see any reason to treat me further. It’s just one of those things the state requires; a letter saying someone is or isn’t crazy. Those fucking courts still need to be more specific when they say immediate and specify whether or not immediate means upon sentencing, or upon release from jail.

Tom was saying how that’s one more thing we can check off as done, but I don’t know. It seems that whenever we check something off our little freeloader list, they add something else right back on. And more money, too.

I still don’t know what shocks me more. Just the fact that I got arrested for this shit, or the outrageous sentence I got for it. You can go to court for anything. Anything. Especially if you’re not white. You can bitch about anything. Even journals that you, as an adult, had the right to ignore and weren’t forced to read. It’s like the little boy who ran to his teacher because another little boy called him stupid. Where do we draw the line as to what we can go running to the piggies and courts for? They’re not our parents, for Christ’s sake!

People need to find their proper places. An example of that is Stacey from the Vista Ventana. She should never have gotten involved in my disputes with other tenants. It wasn’t her place to stick her nose into my personal business like that. If I had been loud like the cock above me was in the first building and like the butch was in the second building, that’d be different. Her job was to see to it that tenants followed pool rules, weren’t rowdy and noisy, weren’t destroying things, were paying their rent, etc., but as far as my phone calls to others; this was none of her concern. Stacy was so much like Donna A and Dureen O. Anything to control others.

Just as I predicted in either May or June, we’re having car trouble. I said we’d have it in August, and sure enough, as soon as August was upon us, so was the car curse. It doesn’t always want to start right away. Tom has to clean off corrosion that’s gunked up on some cables.

Around mid-July, I had a vibe concerning today but didn’t know if it was good or bad. I’m hoping it has to do with the better job/raise Tom said he’s been hoping for at the bank.

Now for the best news – I finally heard from Mary! She said she did get my letters. One of hers to me was returned saying “attempted, unknown,” but I don’t know what this meant. Maybe they just didn’t like the idea of sending out letters to someone with only their first name since she had been sending letters to “Dawn.” I even decided to start sticking our new address labels on. Who cares if any nosy DOs read my mail to her? I’m not saying anything wrong. And as far as Scot goes – he can tell me what to do, but I’ll follow my heart and do what I think is best.

I’m sending her 5 pictures per letter, which is all that’s allowed at once. They can’t be bigger than 5 x 3. Pictures of the animals, us, the house, the land.

She mentioned wanting to take all the letters she’s written to friends someday and publish them, so I went ahead and typed up the 3 letters I’ve received from her so far and sent them to her. I told her she’d have 2 files on my computer. One for her letters to me (I’ll trash the originals) and one for her life’s story.

Her writing’s getting easier to read as I get used to it, though it’s still too big and the lines run too closely together. She’s not a great speller, but better than most. She never uses periods, though. All she uses are commas. She never uses caps, either, or makes paragraphs, so as I explained to her, that as her editor, I’d fine-tune stuff like this. Sometimes she writes the word “there” when it’s supposed to be “their”, so I’ll also be correcting grammatical stuff as best I can. I asked her to be more specific with commas and periods. Although I can pretty much figure out when to put periods in, based on the context of what she’s saying, it’ll go faster and easier for me if she’s more specific on that.

She says she’s still having trouble picking up a pencil to write because some airhead once discouraged her really badly. I told her to fuck that airhead and just write, letting her know she’d be the author and that I’d simply be the one getting her story typed and out there (hopefully). Unsure of how to go about it, I suggested she either write her story in chunks or by subjects. Maybe write her preteen years, then her teenage years, and then her 20s. Or go by events, both good and bad, in the order that she remembers them.

She said Palma hasn’t worked there since she’s been back, and that was shortly after I left.

She said she figured I’d check up on her case, but not to believe it cuz they’re liars.

I hope one particularly disturbing part was a lie, that’s for sure! Some articles I found say she was killed and buried right away. Others say she was in agony for days with a broken arm and fractured skull before she was buried.

Myra C, yes, but I can’t imagine Mary G of all people, no matter how much of a fugitive she may’ve been, sitting around doing nothing while her child suffered like that. The only way that could’ve happened is if Justin wouldn’t let her get help. Mary could never be that selfish.

She commended me for writing my own book, which I reminded her she could have as soon as she got out of there. She still doesn’t know when that’ll be.

She said she found out from an inmate that Myra’s already been beat up in prison.

I figured she would be. She’s the type that’ll get regular beatings, but the pervert deserves anything she gets, even death.

She said that the pictures were great.

I told Miss Balls of Brass that although I can’t say who it is with her still in there, she’s going to call me Miss Balls of Brass since no one did my dirty work for me as far as Teddy Bear goes. I hit on her all by myself. It still stuns the shit out of me that I got her! It was mutual!

She also says that when she gets out she wants to dye her hair fuchsia, grow it down to her kneecaps, and be an activist for battered women. She wants me to go along with her on this, too.

Then, for the first time since meeting her just over 7 months ago, I wondered if her fondness for me could go deeper than I ever realized. I hope not, cuz I don’t like fems that are weaker than me, not that it would really matter. I mean, what’s she gonna do? Rape me? Women don’t usually do that to other women. I’m not worried about it. It’s not important as long as she’s a good friend.

What made me start to wonder? All the comments she’s made like how she wants it to be where you see one, you see the other. You’re the bomb, we’re a team, we need each other, it was meant to be, I so do love you, you’re my shining star, and all the praise and compliments she’s lavished upon me.

The babies are ready for segregation. They’re all getting around and eating and drinking, although they still nurse a bit. However, as is usually the case for me, they all looked the same when I tried to sex them. They all looked like girls. So, I’ll have Tom help me this weekend. I wish the guy’s balls were developed from the get-go, but by the time it’s easy to sex them, it’s too late and they’re already breeding.

Today I made another backup copy of my doc files and put them on floppies, which I hid in a place I can’t say. That way, if any nosy beings called pigs do search the place, they shouldn’t be found. It’d be very unlikely, anyway.

I can tell you firsthand that if they storm us, it’s not about Tom and Jodi having anything bad. It’s about power and control. I’ve had enough experience with Valleyhead, Brattleboro, Doe, jail, etc., to know that they wouldn’t leave empty-handed just because we have nothing bad for them to find. They won’t go through the hassle of coming out here and tearing the place apart without taking something. Even people like Chambers, who was far from the extreme, felt we were just too clean and that she had to take something, so she swiped my extra towel.

If you don’t give people who are doing searches a reason to take something, they’ll find a reason of their own. Sorry, though, piggies. You’ll never get those hidden disks from me!

Tomorrow will be another appointment for the freeloaders, another $60 spent for the freeloaders, and another session with somebody else deciding what I need. Tom said it’s covered under our insurance, should they decide I need more than the initial appointment. That’s not the point. Enough is enough already! That’s the point.

Saw Scot last Friday and gave him a copy of Helen’s letter. I’ve completed 61 hours of community service and have 39 to go. Then he can harass me about my “not working.” Tom still thinks he won’t bring it up again. Well, if he does, he’ll quickly find that he’s wasting his time. Old fashioned or not, I’m not going to take just any job. I can’t take just any job anyway, in my case. When I find a home job, I find one. And it’s going to be because I want it and not because society or the courts said I should or had to.

Tom and I also remember things differently pertaining to that. He says Scot said he wasn’t going to worry about it, but I remember him saying we’d worry about the job after the community service is done. Well, I’m not worried about it, but he can worry about it all he wants if he’d like.

Now for the best news, non-freeloader related. We have wild mice in our vents! The bad to that is that Tom has to crawl under the house with all the snakes, scorpions and God knows what else, to find out where they’re coming in from, which will be hard. If there are any significant holes in the vent, we could lose a lot of the AC, but so far I haven’t noticed a difference in the cooling.

I heard a sound coming from the vent late in the night a couple of nights ago and saw a mouse go by. Tom saw them yesterday morning and said they were Fancy mice that I lost. Impossible, I told him, going by my count. I know how many mice I have and I’d know if any were missing. Also, it would’ve had to have gone down there when it was close to newborn, in order to fit through the vent’s grill, then miraculously survived this long. I would’ve heard chewing sounds long before I did, too.

Anyway, I set up the trap and we’ve got one caught so far, but there’s at least one more down there I’m waiting to catch. Tom’s not sure, but I’m sure it’s a wild mouse. It’s a full-grown male, judging by its well-developed balls, and is half the size Fancy mice get to be. Although its fur is a bit thick and shiny, the colors differ from my other mice. It’s a good-looking mouse. It’s of various shades of brown.

I’ve got it in one of the Play City cages I wished I’d had when I caught Gizzy in Phoenix. It can’t escape this cage. However, I can’t throw it in with the boys with the way it jumps high enough to escape the tank, even though it’s not as spastic as Gizzy was, and I can’t afford to have one or two mice hogging up a cage like that, so I’m going to put it in the wire cage we brought Ratsy home in. A part of it is outside, though, and I have to wait till it’s light and he gets up and goes out to get it.

Later...

Caught the other mouse. This one’s smaller and appears to be a girl. She’s got the same coloring with a slight light spot on her head. I think the boy’s full-grown and that this one’s still young. Jack and Jill may not be able to live in the wire cage because they may slip through the wires. I know Jill could. She slipped through the rungs of the wheel, which is about the same width or smaller. I could’ve sworn the mouse I saw was bigger than these two, so I set up the trap again and will keep on doing so till I stop trapping mice.

Tom saw a dirt-colored snake sitting in the shade of the utility pole a few feet from the house. By the time we went back out with the camera, it was gone.

Although I’m tired, the freeloaders say I have to stay up till at least 2 PM. Yesterday, I only slept 8 hours and got up at 10 PM instead of midnight, like I had planned on getting up at. So, if I stay up till at least 2:00, I should sleep till 1 AM and not be so tired 12 hours later when my bosses have me see Scot. Watch. With my shit luck, he’ll want to do a drug test which will keep me there a lot longer.

We may end up with around 60 mice here! The average mouse has 6 babies per litter, and if I’ve got at least 5 pregnant mice, then I could end up with about 60 mice whenever they finally quit having babies.

What’s really cool is that the pig and the mice all get along with each other. I was remembering how the pet store I got Houdini and Scuttles from had guinea pigs mixed in with mice, hamsters, and gerbils, and decided to give it a try since neither is aggressive like rats can be. This is great cuz now the mice have more room. Something they’re going to need!

Tuesday, my bosses say I have to serve them yet again by going to that MH screening appointment.

I can’t wait!

Maybe they’ll butt out of my schedule and stop costing us money someday, but I don’t know. I wouldn’t count on it. Not in this life, and certainly not any time in the near future. I’ve got years yet that they’ll seize ownership of me and my life.

I’m currently doing a rollover with my schedule. Oh, how good it feels to sleep 10 hours! I wake up for a while, though, on the 4th hour. I’m up 18 hours when I don’t take the Melatonin. Sometimes I’m up for the normal 16 hours without it, but usually, it’s more like 18 hours.

Ordered some new toys from an adult catalog. My vibrator just broke. This one lasted the longest, though. I think I got it when we first moved in here. Maybe I even got it in Phoenix. I’m not sure.

Anyway, I totally prefer to go it alone sexually and fantasize about Teddy Bear till I can have her for real. I’m sorry, but I just can’t get into Tom as much as I love him. By his behavior, I can see he’s OK with it, though, and isn’t any more interested in sex with me than I am with him.

I wonder, though – what will it be like with Teddy Bear? I have a feeling she’ll be a bore in bed, as shy as she is, but I don’t care. I just want her at least once just so I can get her out of my system and know that I did it with her, someone I’m attracted to. If it really does happen, like I predict it will, she’ll be the biggest turn-on. Meaning, the one I was most attracted to out of everyone I’ve ever been with, be it for just one night or longer. I wonder if my lusting for her like I do will make me self-conscious in bed, and if the shock of it finally happening will prevent me from cumming? It’s been like being forced to wait for a cigarette I crave. Well, I want that cigarette one of these days, though I doubt we’ll do anything the first few times I see her. I’ll bet I’ll end up being the one who’ll have to initiate the fun, too. I still care about her as a person and hope she’s a regular part of my life for as long as possible, but I lust for her sooo bad! Just like it’s easy for me to say I wish I’d met Tom sooner than I did, a part of me wishes I’d met Teddy Bear first. As happy as I am with Tom, and as sure as I am that I want to be with him forever, it’s quite a pisser to have had such shitty luck with women for so many years as I did, then I meet this ideal woman. One with a hell of a personality and where the attraction is mutual. I’ll never know for sure, obviously, but I’m pretty sure we could’ve had a great relationship, as long as she was accepting of some of my more unusual ways. My not working might’ve concerned her more than my screwy schedule would have. I don’t know if she’d have been quite as accepting/tolerant as Tom. I don’t know if anyone could be as accepting/tolerant as Tom.

As far as what I got goes – I got a hell of a deal. All for just $17 I got 3 different vibrators, a free mystery gift, and 3 free videos, though I’m not a video person. Tom can check those out if he wants to. The free gift is probably a video, too.

I’m not only planning to use the toys for fun but to help heal the knee pain I’ve been having lately. I fucked up the ligaments in my knees somehow. At least I think that’s what it is. Maybe the concentrated buzzing of the vibrators will help more than the big heat massager thing I have.

Like I asked for, I got that letter from Helen to give to the mental health screening people. I made a copy for Scot to add to my file, too. In the letter she writes: I want to commend you on the progress with anger management I’ve seen in just the short time I’ve been seeing you since your release from jail. You appear much more accepting of all your experiences without the need for retaliation – even if it was all unfair. I believe you are also making good progress with all the requirements of your probation and I give you credit for that also.

I also asked her how many more visits she thought I should have, and she said exactly what I was thinking – we’ll wait till after the MH screening to decide, but maybe 3-5 more visits??

We received our new address labels – 24 scenic images. Naturally, the snowy ones don’t appeal to me.