Paula left a message saying she changed her number cuz some girl’s been driving her nuts. Too bad she wasn’t out here. She could get her hung for it. It’s a Puerto Rican, though, so maybe not. Anyway, I left her a message.

In good news, we got water last night at 6:30! Yeah, with one last-minute tease from God, too. I guess we went hog wild and pumped too much water at once because the water stopped towards the end of my shower. He had to go and vent the well cuz of something related to the pressure and the warm air escaping from the well. We’ll pick up a vent with a screen on it sometime soon. We used a lot of water at once, though I don’t expect we’ll do this regularly. We used water for 2 showers, 2 loads of dishes, and 3 loads of laundry.

It was nice to be able to clean the mice’s air filter today, too.

We got water just in time too, cuz the water was evaporating from the traps and it was starting to stink in here. I had to pour some of the last of the water down the drains.

Walter arrived with his nephew just after noon, saying he got stalled by a bunch of sheep, and I was like, by a bunch of sheep? Where? There’s no sheep around here that’d get in the way of cars. It made me wonder if the gods didn’t materialize them out of thin air as a last-minute insult. Once Walter got here, he said he was afraid to leave until it was done. I wouldn’t have wanted him to leave, that’s for sure.

He’s going to return today or tomorrow to pick up his rig. The rig with the wench has been sitting here ever since.

What pissed me the fuck off were the nosy workers from in back that invited themselves over to stick their noses where they didn’t belong. They just breezed right by the no-trespassing sign as if it didn’t exist. I’m sick of people driving onto our land to butt into our business. I can’t wait till we have fences. They could still get in, but not as easily.

We called Mary at work to let her know they made it out here, then again later on in the early evening. She was really happy for us. So was I!

In case I didn’t mention it yet, Tom fixed the bird clock that stopped chirping a couple of years ago. It’s nice to once again hear the birds chirp at the hour. We never could figure out why they stopped. Something about his taking the thing apart is what fixed it.

I’m getting ready to start ripping CDs into MP3s so that I don’t have to spend so much time doing that when I get the MP3 player. Ripping to MP3s takes longer than waves.

My birthday came early this year. Tom and I went to the grocery store in Casa Grande, and I got two new dolls! And one of them is a redhead! Finally, huh? It’s just like Teddy Bear’s, only a few shades darker. Darker than what I last saw her with, anyway. She was $20 and I named her Misha (that is a really cute and unique name) and she’s a 22” with gray eyes and a not-so-nice dress. It’s old-fashioned with gray wool, but I liked the face and hair color enough to feel her dress was worth it. I can maybe change it someday. It has pink rosebuds, velvet and lace trim, and a brown satin hem. I polished her nails brownish-gold. Her brown beaded necklace was glued on at the nape of the neck. I’ve never seen necklaces glued on before. Fortunately, her hat wasn’t glued on. It was sewn to her wig, so I could cut it off since I’m not big on hats. She doesn’t wear shoes. They’re white heels that are a part of her mold like Summer Dream’s.

I also painted Colette’s nails black and an old, cheap doll’s nails, alternating between pink and purple.

All the other 22” dolls wore wedding dresses. They were nice, though. One held a pink floral bouquet and another had gold accents on its dress so it wasn’t so boring being nothing but white, white, white. I wonder if this is what Paula meant when she was talking about dolls wearing white.

The second doll I got is another one of those 10” sitting musical dolls. This one’s dress is gorgeous. It’s an orchid dress with pink and blue trim with a touch of silver glitter. She has a melon-colored rosebud on her chest and on her white shoes. She has gold, curly hair and blue eyes. I named her Tiffany.

Tom got his computer working again, so that’s good.

We didn’t get water yesterday, and as soon as I awoke at 7:30, I knew we weren’t getting it today, either.

No words can express the red-hot liquid hate I feel for God and how strongly I wish I could yank him down from the sky and beat the shit out of him. Even Mom said to Tom last night on the phone, “Maybe God does hate her.”

Well, that’s been rather obvious for a long time now, hasn’t it? I’ve given up on asking why. I don’t know why, and I don’t care why. I just wish he’d leave us the fuck alone. Not even God can ignore those he hates. He has to torture them year after year.

I’m too pissed off to write anymore at the moment. All I know is that it’s going to be days before we get water if we don’t get it today, and we’re looking at a lot of trips into Phoenix in the meantime. But I know Phoenix would love to have us, so there’s nothing to worry about there.

Later…

I’m not sure if we’re going to get water today or not. I won’t believe it till I see it, but here’s an update so I don’t get too backed up.

The day and time I predicted we’d get water yesterday would’ve been right had God not inflicted punishment upon Walter for trying to help us and done things to stall us from getting water. Instead, at 1:30 that afternoon, I suddenly knew we weren’t getting water that day. Then by 3:00, I knew he wasn’t even coming. As it would turn out, the axle on his trailer broke, and that would’ve happened around the time my vibes changed. Everything was bought, though, so it was just a matter of having the pipe delivered to his house this morning, but what should God have happen to the poor person delivering the pipe? They got stuck. Then, after they got unstuck, a tire blew on this other old trailer of Walter’s, so he had to take it in to be fixed.

He’ll supposedly be here in about an hour, but I don’t know. This all makes me wonder if he’ll get killed en route to our place. Anything to keep us from getting water sooner. I’m nearly as worried for the guy as I am for us.

Then last night, as if God hadn’t shit on us enough already, he went and broke poor Tom’s computer. Talk about adding insult to injury! Two-year-old pumps and 6-month-old computers just don’t break. They just don’t. Nobody’s shit breaks like ours. Nobody’s.

What’s left for him to go after in this house and what will be next? The dryer? The lights? The roof?

I’ve really nailed this thing vibe-wise with uncanny accuracy. My psychicness really develops with age. In my early 20s, all I could do was get these little feelings here and there, but no details. Now I’m getting more accurate and more detailed with the things I see/sense.

Anyway, there’s a scattering of dead bushes alongside the washes. I broke up an ugly dead one yesterday while I was waiting hopelessly.

Although soft, and not audible in the house, I could hear Dan’s place thumping with music again. Hey, not hearing music on a 10-acre ranch in the middle of a weekday is simply out of the question, so what can I say?

If God will let us, we’re going to put up hedges, with or without a fence, in back. George’s dumpy little city is such an eyesore, let alone an invasion of privacy. They’ve got this ugly red writing now on one of the water tanks.

It looks like my Wednesday water vibe’s going to be right on. Come 3:00 yesterday with Walter still not showing up, I knew he wasn’t going to and that he’d call around 4:00. He called at 3:50 saying that the bank wouldn’t cash the check being a third-party check, so we had to go all the way back to Phoenix, the city that just won’t let us go, to get a check written from a different account and bank. Right now, Tom’s meeting Walter at the B of A bank in Casa Grande to give Walter the money in either a cashier’s check or cash. However he wants it. Then by noon, Walter should be here with all the parts needed to get us water by the late afternoon.

Fortunately, Tom had personal days stored up, so between this week and next, it’ll be a combination of personal days and vacation days he’ll take off. Next week he’s going to take off Monday through Wednesday. We decided not to go to Game Works because of all the holiday commotion, but we will do miniature golf.

My vibes have been amazingly accurate throughout this process. I was right about the footage, about the pump being bad, about him not showing up yesterday, about when he’d call, so now let’s just hope I’m right about getting water today!

Actually, he did show up yesterday to return the other check to us. We weren’t about to give him more money without getting that check back first.

When I went outside where he was talking to Walter, I thought Walter was playing music from his truck, but then I stepped back and realized it was Dan’s people. It was soft enough to hear plenty well outdoors, but not in the house. If this house were the Phoenix one, we’d hear it in here loud and clear. I’m sure it was coming from a car and not the house through an open window. It’s been cold, and I’d like to think no one could be that desperate for attention.

No one was in back yesterday to listen to either, and I hope they take today off too, though they never did end up being noisy. I only heard them for a few minutes. Maybe that’s because George spent most of the day back there, too.

We’re wondering if the reason APS hasn’t powered up the place yet is due to their having trouble passing inspection, but the longer that house is empty, the longer I get to live in peace if they truly are going to be noisy.

Tom says that by the subdivisions they’re building in the center of town, we have to get rich someday off this land. It’s a guaranteed thing. If this is true, then our struggling now is compensation of money later on, and not an everlasting curse, just like my shitty luck with women was compensated with Tom and Teddy Bear. I hope with Teddy Bear, anyway, if only for a year or two. The closer we get to May, the more I’ll be able to sense whether or not I’m going to see her.

Anyway, we weren’t at Mary’s long. She gave us $20 and let us load up 20 gallons of water for toilet flushing. Then we hit Circle K where he got gas and soda and I got hot coffee to warm me. As is 99% of our things, the heater’s broken in the car.

I don’t think I can concentrate on working on my bio right now, so here’s the latest well scoop. The cost will be $5,653. Mary and Dave met Tom at Harrah’s casino and gave him the check. Because it’s so much money, we agreed we’d give them a thousand dollars in January, though we didn’t tell them that. After making the comment to Tom about how I wish I could get a job to give half the money to charity since God wants us to give our money away, he said that maybe if I got a home job, I could give to Mom instead. Well, I have mixed emotions about that. First of all, I’ll never have a job. That’s just not meant to be, convicted felon or not. Second of all, in my eyes, Mom owes us. By now, she’s paid back all the money she took us for when she so selfishly took advantage of Tom around the time Dad died, but she can never pay us enough money for the time she stole from us. We were a new couple and going through a time when I needed him most, but she kept him away from me. She’d sometimes send home my favorite coffee with him, admitting he was at her house more than ours, and that’s nice, but that just doesn’t cut it as far as compensation goes. I’m all for milking the woman dry, as much as I love her otherwise because enough could never be enough or too much money from her, as far as I’m concerned.

Anyway, this shit with Dan just gets better and better. As it turns out, the cock gave us a used pump and then lied to us, telling us it was a 3-horsepower pump, when it’s really a 2 that can only pump 2 gallons a minute. This new one we’re getting is a 5-horsepower and it can pump 15 gallons a minute, so no more will we have to worry about not running dishes while doing laundry.

All my vibes were right, though. I said that unfortunately, the only thing Dan did tell the truth about was the footage, and yes, it is 785’. I also vibed the pump was fucked up, and true to what Walter said after testing it, it is fucked up. There was a hole in it cuz the fucker didn’t wrap that area like he was supposed to, and the pump was too small for that depth, so it overshot itself.

As far as what to do with Dan - my first impulse is to run over to his business and beat the shit out of him, but his wounds would eventually heal. Where we want to get him is where it’ll really hurt and for a long time too, which is his business. Tom wants to wait another year what with the way things are being so closely monitored cuz of all this terrorist shit. As soon as those fucking Arabs will leave us alone long enough, Tom will take care of him, along with Hall, the Public defender, Pig Bias, and the black bitch, if he can find them. I’d bet she’s got her number listed and is in the same place she moved to when she moved out of the house. Yeah, because she was never really scared of me. She’d welcome any calls or mail from me, believe me. Anything to use as ammunition against me so she could use and abuse the law against me again.

I checked online for Steven, but sure enough, he’s moved on to new areas and to gather new victims.

Tom knows enough about accounts to do things to Dan’s business, like transfer money out of his account, make checks bounce, etc. The less I know, the better it’ll be, he told me, and he can’t do the same thing for everybody. We can’t have an obvious common denominator there - a husband who works at a bank with a wife who has every reason to hate these people. It’s too bad I can’t be the one to decide what each one shall get. How fun that would be! After all, they got to decide my fate for a while. It’d only be fair if I could decide theirs, but life ain’t fair. It’s going to be something that’ll devastate them for years, though. It can’t be something they could recover from in just a few weeks or even a few months. We’re going on two years of picking up after Dan’s shit, and six for the freeloaders, so they definitely need to suffer more than just a handful of weeks/months.

It’s not even 9:00 and the gold truck’s already in back with its music thumping away. Just how many hours am I going to have to listen to this shit? How many more days? Well, I’m not going to listen to it. If I have to listen to music, it’ll be my own. In fact, I’ve got a CD playing now. Tom said it’s doing skirting.

It’s no joke how they say that when it rains, it pours. Last night, God just had to let a hose blow on the car, and poor Tom had to fix that, too. Like he didn’t have enough shit to deal with already!

Today is Dan and Steven’s unlucky day. Tom had taken them off his shit list to concentrate on those responsible for getting me thrown in jail, but guess what? They earned their way right back on it. It looks like, from what I vibed and what the guy he talked to this morning said, that this latest problem is also Dan-inflicted because the stupid shitfuck used too much plastic piping where he should’ve used metal. It could also be that the pump overworked itself since the fucking cock installed a pump for a 500’ well in a nearly 800’ well. Either way, ma will pay the costs, but that’s still one more thing we have to deal with. Meanwhile, laundry’s going to get backed up, dishes are going to get backed up, and trash is going to get backed up since we’d never want to burn without a working hose right there to wet any sparks.

I’m just sick of us having to be the ones to pick up after other people’s messes!!! God’s favorite pastime for us - suffering for years at the expense of others’ fuck-ups or vengefulness.

Anyway, some guy’s going to be here any minute, and I wonder - how incompetent is this one? How much money will we lose? How many years will we have to spend recovering from this cock?

Damn the Gods for making us pay for others’ shit! What? Do we not fuck up enough ourselves to be allowed to just pay for our own fuck-ups? Meanwhile, I’ll bet you don’t have anyone fucking over your precious freeloaders now, do you, God? No, they’re invincible, aren’t they? Nobody can rip them off or inflict untold amounts of stress, depression and anger on them, can they? Well, mark my words, God. Not even you can protect your beloved freeloaders from us in the end!

I wasn’t going to diet till after New Year’s, but I have to start now, or else I’ll be well into the 130s by the time New Year’s rolls around. I’m not like Tom or Mary who can eat all they want and stay the same, though they’re more like 30-50 pounds overweight. I’m 123 pounds now and would be a lot more than that come New Year’s, so I’ll have to start watching what I eat now, or else I won’t be able to fit into my clothes. We can’t afford new clothes now.

It makes me wonder, though - how much would I gain if I kept eating whatever whenever? I can only begin to guess! I’d say I’d probably get up to the 140s - 150s, but I’ll find out someday. I’m not going to try to control my weight for the rest of my life.

If we reactivate the well, and there are some things that could cause us to have to abandon it altogether, I hope we can get storage tanks in here soon enough. That way, when we suffer yet again on account of Dan’s greed and stupidity, we can have water till it’s fixed. Meanwhile, we got about 20 gallons of water at Mary’s yesterday, after we took showers there, for toilet-flushing.

Pepper was all over me, as usual, being playful and lovey-dovey. I’m thinking more and more that we will get Pepper eventually. Mary and Dave don’t hate him, but they don’t want such an attention-needy dog around. With me being home all the time, I wouldn’t mind him following me around. Mary mentioned how he’d love running up and down the house here. I could just tell by the way they were talking that they’d go for it once we got fences. The only problem is we can’t get fences if we’re constantly having to play well and car.

Ma gave me some puzzles, and Mary and Dave got me some more memory for my computer which was really nice of them when they went out to get some for their own computer. It doesn’t make things within my word processor run faster, but it helps with other things. Especially when I have a lot of stuff open.

We also got pizza and Mary sent us home with the leftovers.

It looks like George is back there now. I hope to hell he hasn’t heard about this black/Mexican shit I’ve been through, though I don’t think he ever knew our last names. It’s just that he’s in favor of freeloaders, and if he knew about this shit, there’s no saying how that’d influence his picking out tenants for that house. Although, it doesn’t really matter. If God wants me harassed all over again by the same old shit, I will be. In fact, I’m sure he’s going to make sure the noisiest people move in there, no matter what George does or doesn’t know. With this rental being the closest one to us, why would he let us have quiet white neighbors?

Later…

I totally, totally regret moving here! God, I never thought I’d be so sorry! I knew God was going to punish me for moving from the city and lifestyle he wanted me to have, but I had no idea it’d be this extreme. He wanted me to live with lots of people and noise for a reason. The well’s going to cost nearly $6,000 to fix! This guy, Walter, who I got good vibes from instantly, said he’s heard of Dan and his scams. He says we’re not the only ones that got fucked over by him, which I figured. It’s a common practice for drillers to come in, fuck people over in a certain area, then move on and do the same old shit elsewhere. I’m sure Steven, who was connected to Dan, is now long gone. Remember, he worked out of his house.

I was always nervous when it came to God’s punishing us for moving, but now I’m scared. Literally scared. This is beyond punishment. This is a curse. The question is, how much more cursed will we be the longer we stay here? How much more money will we lose? We should’ve just stayed in the city, kept a just-grin-and-bear-it attitude regarding the freeloaders, and then I wouldn’t have had to go to jail for 6 months, spend $40 a month for the freeloaders, thousands in hotels for contractors, and then thousands more a couple of years later. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about what other curses lie ahead for us after fixing the contractor’s fuck-ups, and ridding our lives of the freeloaders if we ever can.

Unless our struggling is because we’re going to be compensated later on in life with lots of money, which I doubt, something really wants us to struggle. It just doesn’t want us to get ahead. Every time we start to crawl out of a new hole someone’s dug for us, we get kicked down another one. Why bother trying to get ahead if we’re just going to be thrown back?

How do we get rid of the curse? How do we hang onto our money? How do we stop others from victimizing us and getting away with it? This isn’t a few hundred bucks and a few hours of freedom that was lost. Between the freeloaders and the contractors, you’re talking many, many thousands of dollars and half a year of freedom. What? Would it make God happy if I chained myself up in the closet every so often? Should we give half our money to charity? He works hard for our money and we should be able to keep it and spend it in normal, legit ways. Not be forced to give it to our perpetrators or greedy incompetent assholes. When is the payback for leaving the city and getting such a big, beautiful house ever going to be enough? When one of us is dead? It’s like - fuck living on a boat! Like God would let us? Besides, if we’ve gone through all this shit just to change houses, I’d hate to think of all we’d suffer on account of dumping civilization and getting off of land altogether. He would kill us for that! It’s like God put us here to serve others at our own expense. It makes me furious with God to know that these well drillers can get away with fucking over numerous innocent people out of thousands, while I go to jail for speaking my mind to people that provoked me. People that gave me a reason to react towards them. And nobody can try to convince me that things wouldn’t have been different had I been black, Mexican or male.

Later…

We’re waiting for Walter to return to take the pump out. Tom said he’s hoping they lied about how deep the well is because if it is a case of bad pipes, then we won’t need as much and it won’t cost as much.

We couldn’t get that lucky.

He also hopes the pump’s okay too, though we know the motor’s running.

Well, we made it to late November before we finally had to turn the heat on. Tom said the cold woke him up at 4:00 in the morning. It was down to 67°. We didn’t even have it on for an hour, though. Once it hit 70°, I turned it off.

The bad news is that the well’s fucked up. We’re not sure if it’s drying up and needs to be blown out, or if the screen’s clogged. There you go, God. Just have us spend our money on the well so we don’t have any to spend on his vacation. And we know no reliable company to call to ask questions to, thanks to society’s incompetent little fuck-ups.

I’m going to try to hold a day schedule till mid-December. The first week in December is his vacation, but then I have to hold out a little longer for the freeloaders.

Tom said there was a message on the phone this morning as he was about to log in to the web. I immediately thought it was Paula. It didn’t do me any good telling Andy that weekends were a bad time to get me, so why should it do me any good telling Paula that? Well, it turns out that it was his work. He told them, “You want to bug me after hours, give me a beeper and pay me extra,” but like most people, they don’t listen.

Al Loomer really did say it right back in ‘88. He said I was someone that just did not like people. When I told the therapist I had at the time, Trisha Morrissey, that he said that, she said she didn’t think I disliked people, she thought I just feared them. No, Al had it right - I detest people. And if there’s any fear it’s only because they’re so fucked up that you just never know how badly their fuck-ups are going to fuck you up.

Later…

To say today’s been a shitty day is quite an understatement. First the well, and now one of the rentals is getting on my nerves with its fucking music. It could be coming from the old gold pickup that’s at the new place right now, but Tom says it’s unlikely that someone would invest in a stereo that expensive in such a dump of a truck. It started as soon as we went out there and they saw us. Tom said there was music coming from the other direction this morning. If the music I’m hearing now is coming from this truck, I better hope to hell that this person doesn’t end up being the one to move in there. This doesn’t mean, though, that whoever does won’t end up being just as noisy.

There was even a dog getting on my nerves too, but only when I was outside. This was coming from the front.

Anyway, it appears I’m not going to be able to wash my hair till Monday and that this well shit is going to cost us hundreds of dollars that we don’t have. That’s right - my teeth are all paid off, so now it’s time to replace that problem with a new expense. Anything to keep us from getting ahead. What’s the point in even trying to get ahead? All we do is get set right back. It’s either the control board up top or the pump, but either way, this shouldn’t be happening after just two fucking years! Our washer won’t work on the small-load cycle, our jet dry dispenser in the dishwasher breaks, and now this shit! Nobody’s shit breaks like ours. Makes me wonder if I should even bother getting an MP3 player. In fact, no I won’t. I’ll just finish burning my waves onto CDs once we get more CDs. I’ll no doubt have to put any money I get for my birthday and Christmas towards this well that’ll cost us hundreds, if not thousands, cuz we can’t count on his selfish mother helping us for sure. No, she’s too wrapped up in her own self, like hanging onto all her money in case she has to go into a nursing home someday. Even if this does happen, that could be ten years from now. She should be living in the present and putting her kids first, not herself. But she’s the kind that’s selfish enough to see Tom get sent to jail just so she could see him, rather than have him move far away and not be able to visit.

Well, maybe, just maybe, next year I can have a birthday and a Christmas after missing out on that twice in a row. Maybe.

This living on a boat someday is just a dream, though. God would never let us get that far away from civilization, anyway. I think this area will build up, but not in a way that’ll get us rich enough to live on a boat. Just in a way that’ll have more people and more noise.

Later…

It is the gold truck, and of course it’s a freeloader, too. I just saw the cock go into the truck and turn the music back on (it was off for a while). Also, a piece of shit doesn’t mean it can’t have a stereo like that in it. That ranchero whose stereo harassed the shit out of us was an old beat-up piece of shit. It’s a matter of priorities. Some people are demented enough to spend hundreds of dollars on a stereo just for others to hear than on a vehicle itself. A lot of these stereos aren’t bought and paid for in honest ways, either. They’re either stolen or bought with hot goods. Besides, Tom always tries to talk me out of believing certain sounds are coming from certain cars/houses. I guess he doesn’t want me to complain to them, as if I would even think of doing that after all that’s happened.

Anyway, it, and someone with a silver or white truck, is working on the electrical wiring by the house. Hopefully, with the fading sunlight, they’ll be gone soon. Of course, they’ll be back tomorrow, and God only knows how many more times after that.

No one can tell me we haven’t been punished by something up there for leaving the city. With the shit we went through to get into the house and then me being dragged back to live in the city for 6 months, it’s so obvious. And I knew it, too. I knew there’d be hell to pay for leaving the city. I just didn’t know it’d be so extreme. So, since we have to listen to music and dogs out here, we might as well have just stayed in the city and just gotten a newer, bigger house there. Then we wouldn’t have had to deal with wells or hauling water.

Oh, good. I just jumped up and checked and both vehicles are gone. Like this freeloader couldn’t have waited till it was pulling out to start the music? It just had to start it a few minutes before it left so we, and others, could hear it and notice them, huh?

Tom’s going to call this company to come out and check the well on Monday. He’s going to take that day off. He’s owed a personal day anyway. He keeps saying everything will be alright, but you know I can never believe anything’s going to be alright till I see it. What if everyone’s booked up and it’s weeks before we can get someone out here? What if they fuck us over and rip us off like the other company? Will we have water before we run out of dishes? He can’t even burn tomorrow. We only have enough water to flush the toilets about 20 more times, then that’s it. Of course, there’s laundry to be done too, and we could be in big trouble if we end up having to go too many days without water.

I finally got through to Paula. She’s the same old, same old. She’s fighting with her upstairs neighbor now who she says is noisy as hell. She dreads being there on weekends. Yes, I remember dreading the weekends all too well! Meanwhile, she can’t get out of there till May cuz she has a lease. At least she’s in an apartment. It’s a lot easier to move from an apartment than a house.

She says some other girl’s been calling her, threatening to kill her and fuck up her car. I don’t know what this is all about. As usual, she made no sense. First she’d say it was cuz of one reason, then another. You know how she is - jumping from subject to subject, interrupting, contradicting, making no sense, not remembering anything. She didn’t even remember Teddy Bear. She asked if she were Puerto Rican and if I’d written to her, yet if she’d read my mail she’d have known she was a white redhead and that we agreed I’d wait a year before contacting her. I told her I may have sunk my chances, though, by stupidly trusting Mary.

She claims she’s going to send me a doll, though I doubt it. She asked if I could make her new tapes of rap songs and basically surprise her with whatever, so I did. I made her two tapes, using my best judgment as to the songs I chose.

I asked her, and she said she was in jail for 3 months, in a dorm, in Niantic, CT. She said most of the COs, as they’d call them, were jerks. Her charges were assault and battery on this girl and a pig. Naturally, my first instinct was to be totally sick over the fact that someone can beat up two people, one being an oh-so-precious pig, and get just 3 months, while I get 6 for words on paper. But then she told me she also got 2000 hours of community service and I was like - oh my God! In a sense, that’s way worse than what I got. If you’re gonna sit in jail for 3 months, you might as well make it 6 and come home to just 100 hours. She’s damn lucky she didn’t do that out here. If she’d done the same thing here, she’d be looking at years in prison and many, many years of probation. I’ll bet she’d do 3 to 5 in prison, then 5 to 10 years probation with more like 5000 hours of community service. I forgot to ask just how much probation time she had and what her community service work entailed. I know she did it out of the house.

Here’s a classic example of how much stricter Arizona is than Massachusetts. I sent threatening letters and a threatening tape to people in Massachusetts (Larry and Ronnie), yet I never heard a damn thing about it. They probably ignored the stuff and threw it out once they realized what it was since that’s the way people there tend to react, and if any of them did go to the police about it, they were no doubt told not to worry about it. It’s just a voice on a tape and words on paper. I hadn’t done anything.

Went to Circle K this morning for some goodies before I do that diet again. They finally changed their coffee flavors. They had vanilla and mocha for a long time, and now they have Butterfinger and cinnamon. We got delayed by an Am-track train forfuckingever on the way there. It’s hard to believe Maricopa has AM-track. They just built a train station, so I’d say Maricopa’s going to build up as I predicted. We didn’t see any new houses along the way, but it looks like they’re getting ready to pave more of the road about 6 miles from here.

When we got back, we picked some radishes. Tom was brave enough to try one, but as I figured, he hated it. They’re pretty hot, but I like them. After too many, though, my mouth is on fire and I have to eat something to take the bitter taste away.

Nothing going on in back yet, but I have seen a couple of vehicles there today and yesterday.

I decided to fly the rest of my flags one by one till they all wear out. I took down a tattered Tweety bird flag and replaced it with cute Dalmatians.

We also made wire shelves for the rats with the wire that we used to make the pig’s cage. We bought the stuff for the mice, yet it ended up with pigs and rats!

Last night I set up 4 ladies with males for breeding, but I don’t know if I had them together long enough or if they’ll allow themselves to breed. They didn’t seem the least bit interested. They fought the guys like hell.

I got some potentially good news in the mail yesterday that fits with my vibes. My letter to Ida was returned, saying she’s no longer in custody and was released on the 9th. That’s exactly when my bad vibe suddenly went away, which means I was right in assuming that together, she and Mary were bad news had my bear worked during this time. It may be too late and they might’ve trashed me to the bear already, but that’s not what my vibes say. Now that Ida’s gone, if it hasn’t already been done, Mary may feel awkward about trashing me alone. It’s not as fun when you have another person with the same venom towards you trash you along with them. So, unless it was done during the time I had the horrible vibes, which was for about 3 days, I still might see my bear next May. In fact, it appears I may get my cake and eat it too. Meaning, I’ll never again hear from Mary, which would be just fine with me, yet I still get to keep my bear.

Also, I had wondered why it took Ida so long to respond to me when I sent the note two weeks earlier and she’d been with Mary that long. Well, obviously it was so she could be sure to get the last word. At least she was all talk when she said I’d hear from her further. I figured as much, anyway. I mean, what’s she gonna do? Threaten to break my hand for writing the note?

Meanwhile, I’ll keep Mary’s letters and story file till I’m off probation, then I’ll destroy those.

How the fuck did Ida get out of there so fast? She was in on a violation, and violations are supposed to be 3 months. Maybe she bonded out, though I don’t know if violations are bondable.

I forgot to mention that two mornings ago, I saw smoke about 30 feet in front of the rental. I wonder what the hell they could’ve been burning.

I downloaded some e-books, though they’re books I’ve already read, and I’ll have to sit at the computer and read them.

Later…

It’s turned out to be a nice day and I’ve opened the windows. I don’t like smelling horses in here, though I’d rather smell horseshit at home, than farts in jail.

I tried to call Paula yesterday morning and today but she wasn’t in. With my luck, she’ll call over the weekend. I’d really prefer to talk to her without Tom being here. That way I can talk a bit more freely without getting him paranoid about something I might say.

Yesterday, Tom was telling me that he was about 20 pages into my Estrella book and that he suggests I don’t share it with anyone other than him. He said I can’t stop you from doing what you want to do, but things like how you wrote about how Rule told you how to get into Ad-Seg may make people paranoid, etc. He said he doesn’t think I should give it to Teddy Bear or Paula. It’s too late with Paula, but obviously it was okay since nothing bad happened to me for it, but Teddy Bear? I always believed, judging by her personality, that she’d be okay with it and that she wouldn’t tell anyone about it. At least not the wrong people, anyway.

Tom feels journals should never be shared, but to me, anything written away from home is not a journal. It’s more of a story about your adventures away from home, be it being away in jail or in Vegas gambling.

After taking a day to digest this conversation, I said to myself, hey, you need to try to learn to be a bit more independent when it comes to decision-making, as hard and as foreign as that may be. You let him talk you out of writing Palma and a zillion other things, and it’s okay to do what the one you love feels you ought to do, but you need to follow your own head/heart at times, too. I know he means well, I know he isn’t forcing me to do anything, and I know he’s right a lot of the time when he gives me suggestions or advice, but sometimes, I need to do my own thing, even if its results aren’t always very good. Life’s about taking chances. There’s been a lot of times when I was glad I took his advice and there have also been times when I wished I’d taken my own. It’s like sometimes he’s even more paranoid and cautious than even I am. “Do what you want, but I think tearing out and destroying journal pages would be too paranoid,” he told me. And maybe it was, but it’s just as easy for me to say that I can see how could be a bad thing to send copies to Mary, even if there were no N-words or threats in it, but the bear? I don’t know about that one, though her copy would be severely edited.

I still don’t think I’m ever going to see the bear again, but the point is, I’m not going to say yes or no either way as to whether or not I share the story with her. Maybe I will and maybe I won’t. It’s going to be solely up to me with the only influence being herself. Meaning, something she might say/do to convince me either way.

My first thought was to keep it a secret if I did share it with her, but first of all, I never could keep a secret to save my life. My secrets were always discovered one way or another, and secondly, I shouldn’t have to. At nearly 36 years of age my actions, especially to Tom, shouldn’t have to be hidden, explained or made excuses for. I’m always going to do what he suggests I do 8 out of 10 times cuz I love him, know he means well, and trust his judgment, but sometimes I’m going to make my own decisions and do things my own way. Once again, though, I’m not saying either way how I’ll deal with Teddy Bear when it comes to this book. If I ever see her again, we’ll see.

Who knows? I may decide, come May, not to write to her. I wish I could make myself not want to write to her. After being burned time and time again by 9 out of 10 people I’ve had contact with, both on account of my stupidity and my not doing a damn thing to deserve it, you never know what shit she may drag into my life, despite how unlikely that seems. She’s just someone that gives off positive vibes from the get-go. There doesn’t seem to be one ounce of meanness or paranoia in her. I doubt she’d go running to a pig friend, if she’s got any, to type up a threatening letter to her to add to the story, if she got pissed at me. I think that unlike most people, if she was pissed or unhappy with me for any reason, she’d simply ignore me. And that would be the proper thing to do in most cases. She’s never seen the type to get upset easily, though it probably wouldn’t take as much as it’d take Tom. She’s a DO, after all, and you need a little bit of bite to you for that kind of job or else some of those inmates will chew you up and spit you out. Still, unless Tom’s eager to disagree with me for whatever reason, I think he’ll see what I mean if she ever does visit. I wouldn’t count on a visit, though. Especially if I don’t hear anything nice from Mary this week.

If I ever did share the story with the bear, I think that the absolute worst thing that could come of it would be that she wasn’t happy that I wrote about her, even if it was all good, and that she may no longer want to be friends with me.

Early this morning two vehicles showed up in back, but I can’t say how long they were there, what they did, or if anyone else showed up. I was asleep by noon.

Yesterday I scanned my journal covers. Why keep them when I can scan them? I thought. I’m only keeping a few. One specialty journal and two prism-like ones. That’s because those two don’t scan well. They only sparkle with movement.

I wonder - will Scot invite himself over this week?

Later…

I worked on and off throughout the night on my bio. Once I get back on days, I’ll stay that way for a while. I’m tired of rolling, and besides, there’ll be more going on in December (hopefully all good).

I’m up to 1982 in the bio. What am I gonna do when it’s done? I’ll be so damn bored! I already am bored a lot as it is, so what will I do when it’s done? Read and clean?

Better not complain too much. I wouldn’t want God to think I need another adventurous trip to jail to liven things up.

Now the flat trailer and horse trailer are gone, too. Maybe the people connected to all these trailers were just workers living back there while they were doing the house since it’s so far out. Maybe they travel from site to site in the trailer.

I did something rather clever yesterday. I tore Velcro off of an old doll’s dress and replaced the belt tie on my robe by sewing on this Velcro. It stays closed better this way.

Time to go put the nature sounds station on and work on my bio. Not all of the rainy sounds sound good. Some of it sounds like static or like someone rustling papers.

Five and a half months from now I could’ve seen my Teddy Bear, but no. I had to be stupid and let someone go and ruin it for me. It’s gonna be so hard next May, knowing I could be seeing her if it weren’t for my stupidity and someone else’s cruelty.

You’d think Mary would’ve been a bit more empathetic. I mean, she of all people should know what it’s like to lose someone she cares about. Then again, maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she wasn’t at work. Maybe she was right there all along with him. And maybe I had her all wrong in that department. She fooled me in others, after all.

Anyway, it was yesterday that I noticed that the trailer was gone. There were a lot of workers over there, though. Remember, this is an old piece of shit so the setup will take more work. Now I’m not sure if those trailer freeloaders are going to live there or not. Maybe not and maybe that’s why my bad vibes subsided so quickly. But still, that place has “freeloaders” written all over it and there’s nothing to say that whoever does end up in the thing won’t be a problem. That’s okay, though. I can be a problem right back.

I still think that yes, having the same old thing every day does get boring, but I should’ve stuck out that last diet regimen I was on a little longer. It was working without leaving me starving my ass off. Sooner or later I’d have had to have started shitting. I couldn’t have stayed stuck forever. As soon as my body realized it wasn’t going to get 1500 or more calories a day, it would’ve adapted, and it’s not like I’d have had the same old stuff forever. Maybe I just didn’t give it enough time. The plan I had wasn’t all that terrible as far as variety goes. Having a cucumber and a can of peaches would be my fruits and veggies. I’d get my protein with a packet of corned beef, then I’d have the potatoes and pudding. All this would be slightly over 1000 calories a day, excluding gum. If I kept this up for a few months, with the exception of one day a week to indulge, I’d have to lose weight. My body couldn’t possibly hold its weight on that, even if I were stuck every other day.

I had major variety yesterday, including beans, yet I’m stuck again. Besides, due to my lack of willpower, having too much variety around tempts me to have a little of this, then a little of that. Next thing I know I’ve had too much.

I’m just not sure if I want to do this next week or wait till after the New Year, what with all the treats the holidays bring. Also, I strongly vibed, even before Mary stole my bear from me, that I wouldn’t be seeing the bear before Christmas.

I finally heard from Paula. I figured giving her the silent treatment would prompt a letter from her, but I have mixed emotions about writing back and calling her (she has a phone now). It’s easy to say it’s best not to bother spending money on stamps/calls to her. Especially with the way I’ve been burned time after time, but you know what? I’ve known Paula for 17 years and she hasn’t burned me yet. Plus, I want to question her more about her charges and experiences in jail just out of curiosity.

She asked for my number and enclosed a hideous picture of herself. She really got big! She’s 165 pounds. She was usually around 120 when we were neighbors. Her hair is between her shoulders and tits. Tom’s going to take a picture of me to send to her, as she requested.

She’s still dating this married black cop and this married Hispanic pig. She too, likes the uniform. Only difference is I lost my babe in uniform while she gets to keep hers. Hell, I didn’t even get to make it with my uniform in the first place!

She’s still in that apartment in Chicopee and says she yelled at her noisy neighbor. Yeah, that’s what you do in the east. Out here, you’re expected to sit back and take their shit, and God help you if you do complain!

She has a white Chevy Cavalier now and will move in April.

It’s only 73° in the house right now and 54° outside. It’ll definitely be in the 60s in here and the 40s out there come 6:00.

Tom visited with Mom, Mary and Dave. Mom gave me $20 to get a treat. I guess that was for the lemon drops I gave her. I think I’ll spend it at Walgreens over his next vacation. I could use more perfume and more sparkly lip gloss. I got raspberry last time, so I think I’ll go for watermelon or vanilla next time. I wouldn’t mind a new puzzle to two, either.

I really look forward to December and January, God forbid some freeloaders, or anyone else, fuck it up for me. I’m looking forward to going out and doing fun things, getting Christmas gifts (hey I’m just as spoiled when it comes to that as I was as a kid getting Hanukah gifts!) and fencing the property. Also, I look forward to getting an MP3-CD changer. I’ll re-rip my CDs as MP3s instead of waves, then I’ll make CDs of them in MP3 format. That’ll fill about 3 CDs (the one I looked at holds 5). Then, as I gather new songs, I’ll put them on rewritables in regular audio CD format till I fill those 2 CDs. Once full, I’ll burn them as MP3s. That way I won’t have to wait till I get around 250 songs, which is what a CD with songs in MP3 format will hold.

I’m also hoping to get a palm tree or something to fill the empty dining corner. Perhaps in January, there’ll be some good sales. I don’t have much hope of getting a doll or a new rat cage, though.

Later…

I was just browsing online when I came across this book. It’s about a former inmate that like me, kept a day-to-day account of her 6 months in jail. Only she was in the tents. She describes the horseshoe to a T (the intake area where I waited 16 hours to go to Estrella). Like me, she didn’t “fit in.” She wasn’t your typical criminal, in other words. She talks about how Arpaio’s crazy, out to boost his career, and how he wanted to cut a meal to “save the taxpayers money.” Meanwhile, this is supposed to be donated food. I’ll bet her story doesn’t end like mine did where a DO she likes definitely likes her back! Ha, ha. Anyway, it’s interesting, though it’s just the prologue and first chapter I could read. For $17 you can get all 21 chapters.

Later…

Tom installed a new online radio for me. It not only displays the artist and song titles, but it has a wider variety of music. I’ve never even heard of some of this stuff! It also makes its own toolbar, so I can always see the artist/title, even while I’m typing this. With the other one, I’d have to switch windows. It also allows me to see what’s playing on other radio stations before I even tune into them. There’s even a nature sound station. On one track I could hear the ocean, birds chirping, and wind chimes. Then there were storms, whales, rain, etc.

I forgot to mention that when Tom was at Ma’s, they ended up discussing Pepper. Tom told them I want him, and that we plan to put up fences and a doggie door. That way, if we don’t get their dog (which would only be because there’d be some other dog they wanted more), we can get some other dog.

Little Buddy gets more and more playful. He loves to come out and run around. Loves to chase me up and down the house and climb on me to see if he can get treats. He’s not just playful, he’s so loving and a real people rat!

Yes, it got a little chilly in here last night. Down to 72°, and it’s gonna get chillier tonight. It only made it up to 77° in here today. I’m trying to wear warmer clothing before I turn on the heat (though I will turn it on if it drops below 70°) for the sake of saving money.

Tom should be home anytime now. It’ll be interesting to see if he brings any jail mail for me, though I doubt it. It’s been nearly a month now since I heard from Mary. I still say my first guess is that I won’t hear from her, the second’s that she’ll send me a “fuck you” letter, and lastly, she’ll tell me everything’s fine. Maybe she even got into it with Ida. It seems less likely, though, that she’d get into it with her as easily as I did since she’s more tolerant. Mary can sleep through anything, so she wouldn’t mind if Ida was up bopping around the room at 7 AM. I doubt they’d fight over how much of the vent was blocked, either.

Looking at it from Teddy Bear’s perspective, she’s certainly going to be pissed to find out I told someone in that jail that we liked each other. I myself personally, would not be, but most people would be. Knowing how overly cautious and professional the bear is, she’d definitely drop me like a hot potato if anything was said to her.

Worries, stresses, worries, stresses! And all for the wrong people! I mean, here I am, worrying my ass off about what these fucking low-life, scum-sucking inmates may say. Fuck that shit! I need to move on, with or without my bear.

As far as not hearing from Mary goes… ordinarily, I’d say no news was good news. Yes, I’d be happy not to hear from her, but that’d only convince me all the more that she bashed me to the bear. Should I really bother to write the bear next May? Should I bother sending a letter I know won’t get answered?

Later…

True to vibed, there was no word from jail. Don’t let my logic/vibes jump the gun, Tom urged me, telling me that if I don’t hear from the bear again, it could be for a million reasons and not necessarily cuz of Mary or Ida. She could get a better job opportunity, the county could lay her off, she could have to leave the state on a family emergency, they could have a policy in February stating that all personal mail will be returned, etc.

This is true, but what are the chances of any of those things happening as opposed to Mary and Ida ruining things for me?

Tom seems to be more empathetic about this than I thought he’d be. He even promised to help me see if I could find her online when it gets closer.

Although I hope not, maybe Tom’s right when he suggested that just like with Rosa, our time was meant to be brief, and not an introduction to a whole ‘nother chapter in life. Maybe she was just destined to help me get through that place, and she sure did! Just like my heart would pound with happy, excited anticipation when I’d be called for visits, it would when I’d see she was on, too. She totally made my night when she was on. When she was on, I knew everything would be ok. She made the time fly. An hour’s visit with Tom felt like 10 minutes, and 8 hours with Teddy Bear felt like just a couple of hours. Palma never made my nights like she did.

I don’t know what to think at this point. My vibes say everything’s cool as far as the bear goes, but logic says it isn’t. I know firsthand how spiteful people can be and over the dumbest things, too.

I’m up 2 pounds, and if I don’t shit soon, this last week of dieting’s gonna be a total waste.

Since Dave, like most guys, is dumb and useless around the house, Tom’s hoping he can comp a deal with Mary. Mary mentioned wanting to put up a couple of ceiling fans in her house. Well, if Tom mentions that we do too, perhaps she’ll buy us the fans for his installing them for her.

Later…

Well, that’s good that I finally took a dump, but now I have to relose those 2 pounds, so that set me back a day or two. Then again, what’s the hurry? Teddy Bear will never see me again, Tom loves/accepts me no matter what, so I may as well go at a leisurely pace and not push it. Or maybe I’ll dump dieting altogether. We’ll see.

There have been no changes in back. APS still hasn’t powered up the place. I’m like - just get the power going, get in the damn house, have your “housewarming” party that we all have to hear about and get it over with.

It’s going to be cold in here tonight. It never even hit 80° inside the house or 75° outside.

Anyway, if I’m right about losing the bear, come next week with still no word from Mary, I’ll know it. I doubt she’d have the nerve to write to me to tell me all about it. I still don’t think I’ll ever hear from her again, and that if I do, it won’t be to say anything nice. My bad vibes are still down, but there’s still no reason to assume I’ll see the bear next May. Besides, it isn’t just Mary. I have another enemy in that place and one of them, if not both, had to have said something to her. I don’t think they both could’ve kept their big mouths shut.

I’m getting over my never seeing the bear again little by little, day by day.

The Brown Man died last night. Tom’s out cremating him now so he doesn’t attract maggots. We don’t bother to bury mice anyway. I just dread finding out just how many of these females are pregnant. And right after I finally segregated them without fucking up. It would’ve been too early to start breeding had I seen Teddy Bear next spring, but now I have no reason to breed at all. I have enough mice for myself.

It’s vet’s day today, so if Mary hasn’t gotten my last letter yet, she will tomorrow.

Bad vibes pertaining to behind us and at the jail have subsided greatly, but I don’t know why. Maybe Mary was planning to trash me, but then chilled out and decided this shit wasn’t worth fighting over. Or maybe I just don’t give a shit, since I resolved to not let anyone from jail get to me, and since I already resigned myself to the fact that I lost the bear. As are all things, it’s in God’s hands. If he wants the bear to visit next May, she will. If he doesn’t, she won’t.

Another thing is that if I end up getting yanked out of this house again and dragged into the city, then that’s where I’ll stay. If I’m meant to live in the city, I will. I’m not gonna have it be where sometimes I live here, sometimes I don’t.

I also won’t do a damn thing as far as working out and dieting goes. I’m starting to see a real difference again as far as muscle goes, and if I’m gonna be forced to lose all I’ve worked for again, I’m not starting over for the third time. I’m either all or nothing in this department, too. People should either always work out or just not bother. Working out on and off makes no sense. It’s just a waste.

I’m still 117 pounds, though, cuz I’m still stuck. If I’m having this much trouble at 117, there’s no way I’ll get even close to 105. In fact, I don’t think I’m going to lose anymore. I’ll still stick to the 1000-calorie diet, though, now that I found an easy way to do it. This way I’ll be sure never to go over 120 again. It’s just awfully sad that I can’t lose more than 7 pounds on such a low-calorie diet. If I were in my 20s, I’d already be 105, and if I continued on at the rate I’m going, I’d be emaciated in no time.

I finally forced myself to work out after having a good cry after Tom went to bed. I’m up to about 880 calories so far. I doubt I’ll crack 1000 today. I’d only be at 580 if it weren’t for the weekly sampler pack I get of 4 wonderful, sugary, flavored coffees. Carmel, vanilla, mocha, and something called Straight-up Latte.

Later…

I’m still 117 pounds. I’ve been on the diet for a week and losing 7 pounds in one week is still good. Now’s when it’s going to get tough and slow down. I’m already stuck.

Last night I began to feel better. Don’t get me wrong, I’d still undo my stupidity of trusting Mary and take my bear back in a heartbeat, but I can’t. What’s done is done and I put my foot down and decided not to be miserable over this shit day after day. I’ll be damned if I’ll let any inmates put the same stress on me in my own home that they put on me when I was stuck there with them. Mary G and Ida F are not going to bring me down. They stole any chances I might have had of having some kind of friendship, relationship or both with Teddy Bear, but they’re not going to take any more from me. Enough is enough. There, I couldn’t just ignore those who bothered me, but here I can. There are no vents to connect us, there’s no nothing to connect us.

I’ll still respond to any non-nasty letters I may be surprised with from Mary, but Ida will not hear from me no matter what she says.

My first guess is that I’ll never hear from Mary again. My second guess is that she’ll send me a letter bitching all about how I “used” her as if asking her to do something I told her she didn’t have to do is using her in the first place. If she hasn’t already, tomorrow’s the likely day she’ll trash me to the bear. Especially if she’s on her usual Monday M Dorm routine lately, and if Mary hasn’t gotten my “let’s be friends” letter, which still may not necessarily help things. People hold grudges. And for the dumbest things, too. And this is right after she contradicted me too, saying she wouldn’t give the address out to anyone, and how we got screwed by the government and the rest are criminals.

Anyway, the bear was never really mine to lose and I’m not gonna dwell on it. Yes, I’ll still write to her. Yes, I’ll miss her. Yes, I’ll always wonder about her, but she will live forever in my heart and memory. I will always cherish the memories of the brief time we had together. I will always appreciate and be grateful to her for going out of her way for me. She went beyond the call of duty and she really was my jailhouse guardian angel. I loved her with all my heart, though I’ll never really get the chance to know her, and I always will.

My bad vibes have backed off a little more, but I still have every reason to believe I’ll never see the bear again until and unless proven differently.

This is the most I’ve cried since I’ve been home. Each day it gets easier, but it’s going to take a while. I can’t believe I even bothered to respond to Mary’s first letter in the first place and that these people are still causing problems/stress for me on the outs! I don’t have to live with these people anymore (thank God) yet they’re still pissing me off and making me miserable. Fuck that shit! And fuck you Mary G and Ida F for fucking me out of my bear!!!

I keep trying to tell myself over and over again like a broken record how I’d be better off not seeing the bear anyway, that she’d have only ended up burning me, that there’s a lot of good to not seeing her again, but you know what? I’m not very good at lying to myself. Yes, there is some good to this, I’m sure, and perhaps it really is all for the better, but it still hurts. And there’s no way to fix this mess, either. I lost the bear cuz I asked Mary to do something she didn’t want to do, and now all I can do is move on and hope they don’t make any more trouble for me. Costing me my bear is one thing, but costing me my freedom is another. I still don’t see that happening, but you just never know. Anything could cause anyone to end up in jail in this state. Last night I was plagued with dreams of being a jail, being told by some nameless, faceless DO that the press was eating me alive, but I don’t know that this is necessarily a warning of trouble to come. I’ve had these kinds of dreams on and off ever since I’ve been home.

I realize more and more that Mary’s not getting out of there anytime soon. I think she’ll be there 6 more months to a year. Maybe even longer.

I haven’t had the energy to work out or much of an appetite. In fact, I stayed at 117 pounds because I only ate a few bites of macaroni on top of that burger and blizzard yesterday. Having backstabbers snatch from you someone you love and are attracted to does that to you.

Words can’t express just how glad I am we don’t have a kid. Not just because life would suck all the more with having to deal with the expense and demands of a kid on top of everything else, but I would’ve hated to have to level with the kid about life and all that. I’d have had to tell her or him, don’t believe anything anyone says. Don’t put your trust in anyone. God help you if you make an enemy, for they won’t just walk away. They’ll bring you down on their way out of your life.

How depressing as well as true, huh?

I’ll tell you one thing for sure and that’s that although I doubt Teddy Bear will call in a mad frenzy about this shit if she does, I’m going to let her know up front that if she harms me anyway simply because she’s pissed off at me, I will take legal action against her.

Another thing I’ve lost is the time she might’ve filled. Visiting with Teddy Bear would’ve given me more to do and filled more of my time since there’s only so much I can do sitting at home. I’d still rather be bored here than sitting in jail, but even so, I’ve lost so much. As long as she didn’t meet anyone in the meantime, I’ve lost so damn much. And all for asking a simple little favor of someone I’d done so much for. I can’t believe the selfishness in this world! You do for me but don’t dare ask me to do for you. That’s how so many people are.

I said I had had a bad vibe for the 3rd - well - those freeloaders arriving and my losing the bear is awfully close to the 3rd.

I ask myself - would Ida tell her PO to tell mine that I wrote her when she wrote me, too? Yes, she would. She would, even though it’d mean sinking her own ass as well. People will bring their own selves down to bring others down. The freeloader gave up a free house for me. They thought I was that worth it. So why not do more jail time for me, too? Mary, on the other hand, has nothing to lose, since she’s going to be in jail for years. Even if a year or two more was added to her sentence, it wouldn’t matter. She’s got enough years to do as it is that one or two more won’t really make a difference.

Worries, worries, worries! God, please don’t let Mary and Ida trash me to the bear!

Oh, like he really cares? He had me send the letter to Bill when I did for a reason - to get me into jail. So he’s going to have Mary trash me for a reason, too. I only hope it isn’t to go back to jail! Just cuz I’m bored a lot lately doesn’t mean I want to fill my time with adventures that aren’t very fun. I’ve had enough negative excitement in my life. I really thought Tammy would laugh at Bill for getting a letter like he did from me. I didn’t realize she was still so in love with him, but she is one of those who falls in love with abusive men. So, even though he was abusive to her and the kids, she’s still gonna jump to defend him.

I thought Teddy Bear and I met for a reason - to be with each other even if it was only on occasion. But now I see that it was only God teasing me into thinking I could have her. Just like he’s teased me before with a million other things. How could I have been dumb enough to believe that after 35 years I’d have a woman like her in my life, part-time or not? If it wasn’t meant to be in the past, why would it be meant to be now? And yes, I believe God used my stupidity and Mary’s vindictiveness to take the bear away from me. Things happen for a reason.

Oh, Teddy Bear, I’m so so sorry for trusting that bitch!

If this shit hadn’t happened, I’d be so thrilled if she called me now, but now, if she called me, I’d be like - oh, no! All she’d do is tell me how pissed off she was and not to write to her. Then I’d tell her I was sorry for my poor judgment call and that in the meantime, if you don’t like me, don’t have anything to do with me. Don’t shit on me either. Just go away.

Then she’d be nothing more than just a memory to me.

Later…

I worked some more on my bio since I’ll never have any more typing to do for Mary, nor any proofreading to do for Teddy Bear. Yes, I’m down to having just one project, other than the usual household chores I do, along with my hobbies, and just two appointments a month. Wow, huh? Lucky me. Now if I could just be surprised with a letter from Mary saying all’s cool, or a response to my letter from the bear in May, life would be even better. But neither of these things are going to happen, so I best just deal with it, get on with life and get over it. It’s just that I can’t control the pace at which I do this. I wish I could speed things up, but I can’t. Slowly my wounds will heal, but slowly. Meanwhile, 10 years from now I wouldn’t be surprised if I found myself wondering whatever became of my tall, redheaded jailhouse guardian angel that I came to love and never got to know. I’ll never even know if that R really does stand for Rebecca or Rachel.

Lo siento y ich liebe dich, my sweet Teddy Bear.

At least I can ask Tom for favors like spraying the outsides of the doors to keep the spiders out, without him turning on me.

I haven’t even had 700 calories today and I’m not the least bit hungry. I wish it could be like this every day, minus the anxiety and depression.

I’m doing wonderful. My stomach’s in a knot, my lungs are tight, my heart’s pounding with anxiety, and I’m madder than hell (at least I’m down to 117 pounds). Damn you, Ida, for starting this shit! That woman has caused me more stress and misery than even Melinda and Nancy. And damn Mary for turning against me all for asking her to do me a simple little favor she could’ve said no to. If she gave my address and God knows what else to Ida, she’ll certainly trash me to Teddy Bear. That’s the problem with people who decide they don’t like you anymore. They don’t just drop you. They fuck you over.

Anyway, I decided that if a little ass-kissing may save me my bear, I’d do it. So, after thinking about it for a while, I decided that even though my gut instincts about Mary are probably right, perhaps I was jumping the gun and assuming too much. So, I wrote her saying I was very sorry if I upset her, her friendship means a lot to me, I’d still like to help her with her book…

That way, if she was planning on telling/showing letters to the bear, it may change her mind, unless she’s already done it. If she’s done it already, it’s too late, I lost the bear, there’s nothing I can do about it, etc. If I can butter her back up, though, it may prevent her from doing anything stupid that’d cost me my bear. I’d like to believe she wouldn’t trash me after all I’ve done for her like typing up her story, making her birthday cards, sending inspirational letters and all that, but people are that mean. They truly are. And Ida’s no doubt egging her on, influencing her to shit on me if she hasn’t already done it herself.

Unless I’m surprised with a letter from Mary letting me know she’s still cool with me, I’m going to put a hold on proofreading any more of the bear’s copy. I’ll still send a letter to her on the first of May, but I’ll know not to expect a response. If Mary shows her the stuff I’ve written about her, even though it’s all good, there’s no way she’s going to trust me enough to want to associate with me in any way. Damn me for trusting Mary! If I get thrown back in that place on account of her or Ida, they’re dead. If I can get my hands on them, they’re so so very dead.

Also, if I should be miraculously blessed with a letter saying things are okay from Mary, I’ll play nice at least till I write the bear. Hopefully, she’ll get the fuck out of there soon enough! If Mary hasn’t already made up her mind to dump me, I still intend to dump her. I’ll just slowly fade away with time. For now, though, if I hear back from her in a good way, I’ll write less and I’ll write shorter letters, keeping all other people out of it save for Tom.

If Teddy Bear surprises me by calling me this month, it’ll be to chew me out. “How could you send anyone that shit?!” she’d say.

How could I have been so stupid?

Anyway, I gotta go see the cheeks (fortunately I don’t have jail vibes), then I’ll get my weekly treat at Dairy Queen. However, with the way my stomach’s so queasy with fear, anxiety, paranoia and depression, I may not be able to enjoy it all that much.

I bawled my eyes out last night knowing I’ll never see that face again. Never hear her voice. Never get to hug/kiss her or anything more. Now I’m not only left to wonder what would’ve happened my last night there with her if Misha hadn’t been around but I’m also left to forever wonder exactly what would’ve happened between us. I’ll still try to breed various mice, though I know her being a closed chapter in my life is for a reason. Things happen for a reason, so I’ll just have to accept that God must’ve had good reasons for using Mary and Ida to intercept our impending visit. I don’t know, maybe it would’ve gotten harder and harder to say goodbye each time I saw her. I’ll be sad for a while, but I’ll get over her. It just may take 2-3 years, but the lust part of it would’ve died anyway with time, regardless of how well we got along.

Later…

Tom just went to bed even though it’s early. That’s cuz he’s been going to work earlier these last few days.

We were in and out of Scot’s, then off to Dairy Queen, where I managed to scarf down a double cheeseburger and a blizzard. I still have some of the blizzard left, and as always, I gave some to Little Buddy.

Oh, Scot said he mailed the county a progress report on me like he’s supposed to do every 6 months. God, I feel like a kid all over again with these little report cards! My only worry with that is that they see I finished my community service, they see I finished with Helen, but what do they do when they see I’m not “working?” Well, once again, my life’s been altered enough over this shit and I’m not about to rearrange any more of it. I’d love a home job, so if they think they can find a convicted felon a home job, and if they want me to work, let them find me that job.

They’ve been booming again, although they must be further away this time because the booms are softer. Not enough to wake me up.

I’ve been hearing the weirdest sounds lately. Sounds that sound just like car doors, though I never see any cars moving, and I know I couldn’t possibly hear car doors from in back or next door. So, I don’t know what it is I’m hearing, but I swear they are car doors. I wonder if this should worry me, though everything has me paranoid, if not worried, these days.

Dan’s people have a better view of all 3 rentals cuz they can see the backs of the houses which sit side by side. Driving by Dan’s and looking past at the rentals, I was shocked to see just how far apart they are. They must be a couple of hundred feet apart, but seeing them from here all lined up makes you think they’re closer.

I’m a lot depressed and a little worried. I mean, I don’t see how what I wrote could get me thrown back in jail as long as Scot doesn’t get wind of it. I never used “racial slurs” or threats of any kind, but I did mention names and I wrote about those people, the stupid fool I am! And once my bear learns about it, she’ll be pissed and completely turned off. Just the fact that I wrote about her is all it’ll take. Why did I open up to this bitch and put my trust in her, someone who has years and years to do in jail with nothing to lose? Like Tom said, what am I gonna do? Threaten her? And with what? Telling her auntie Carolyn what a two-faced, phony, lying, back-stabbing asshole she is? Maybe she is guiltier than I thought as far as her kids go, too. Just the fact that she gave Ida the note and gave her the address tells me something right there; that she’s turned on me. And instead of telling herself, well, I really shouldn’t put Johnson on the spot and embarrass her in any way, she will. She’ll spite my bear to spite me if it’ll cost me my seeing her next May.

I ask myself, though, would someone really get pissed at my asking them to slip a note.

Yes. Yes, they would. Look how the freeloaders took my asking them to turn their fucking stereo down, and remember, that’s what started this whole chain of events in the first place; me asking them to lower their music. I don’t know why, but simple little reasonable requests really do set people off. Especially out west. And out west, when someone gets pissed off at you, they drag others into it just to fuck you over all the more. They don’t have the balls to face you directly and keep things between them and you. And how could she feel “used?” I mean, I don’t know for sure that she does. That could be just Ida talking, but if she feels used by my asking something like that, I should feel incredibly used for being asked to type up page after page of her life story! If she felt used, upset or pissed in any way about my request, couldn’t she have told me so herself? I told her she never had to do anything she didn’t want to do, so what’s the big deal? Is there more to this than I know of? I know a lot of it is Ida’s influence. Mary’s a very suggestive, gullible person. That’s why I hope my letter insisting I didn’t mean to offend anyone and that I want our friendship to work out will convince her to at least not trash me to Teddy Bear and drag her into this shit. She doesn’t need or deserve that.

If I don’t hear from her, or if I get a letter that’s not the least bit nice, I won’t bother writing to her ever again, but I’ll still take a shot at my bear next May, even though I know it’ll be useless. If I do get a letter from her saying everything’s cool, I’ll write to her to keep her from spiting me, but will write much fewer and much shorter letters. If I dump her without being dumped first before May, she could turn on me for that alone.

I keep trying to tell myself that everything will be okay and that I don’t know for sure that Mary’s turned on me and that I lost the bear, but I had to have. Her giving Ida what she gave her tells me that. Plus, I haven’t heard from her since they’ve been cellies. So, if Mary can give Ida the note and the address and tell Palma I had a crush on her, why not show the bear the stuff I was stupid enough to send?

How could I have been so trusting as to open up to this person?! Ugh!!! I swear I’ll never trust another human being again other than Tom. I’m not even going to write Palma, Pérez and Espi, regardless of whether or not I hear from the bear.

I’m just glad I don’t have to go this shit alone, although Tom doesn’t seem overly empathetic about the damn good possibility of me losing the bear. Maybe deep down he’s glad. Of course, I know that if I don’t get a response from her next May, it could be for some other reason. I highly doubt it, though. If I don’t hear from her, I’d say there’d be an 80% chance it was cuz of Mary and Ida. It really pisses me off but mostly bums me out to think I’ll never see my Teddy Bear again. Although my bad vibes have backed off a bit about the freeloaders in back, I’d rather they pummel these walls with base every day than lose my bear.

I’d also rather lose her than go back to jail, and I still do worry about that, as much as it seems unlikely. It’s just that that’s what I thought a year ago, too. I’d go to court, and be told I was to receive extra probation time only to find out 5 minutes prior to sentencing that I was to do months in jail. I was never kidding when I said that something up there had an obsession with me being stuck in all different places I didn’t want to be. It was like I was being teased and punished for living here and like the city didn’t want to let me go. Something up there also loves for me to worry my ass off over nothing, so let’s hope that’s all this is. But what am I gonna do? Worry my ass off about something every 6 months? That’s no way to live. This stress, anxiety, paranoia, and depression is no way to live.

All I can do is just try to look at the good as a way of helping me to get over her. I feel less pressured to lose weight since, after all, I did tell her I was going to lose weight. I don’t have to bother trying to breed certain mice, not that I’ve had much luck with that anyway. Perhaps it’s all for the better that we don’t see each other. I’d certainly rather have a full-time relationship with my husband than a part-time one with any woman. It makes no sense that God would connect us like he did and have us fall for each other, but it does. Meaning, I’ve never had a woman I was into this much, so why would I now? If one wasn’t meant to be up till now, why would it be meant to be now, part-time or not?

Anyway, now it’s just a matter of sitting back, trying to relax as best I can, and hope for the best. Hope that whether or not I hear from Mary, I don’t get in trouble and I hear from my bear come what May.

Later…

My bad freeloader vibes have backed off considerably and my bad bear vibes have backed off a little. But only a microscopic bit. I still have every reason to believe I lost her. And I lost her all for asking Mary to slip someone a note that she didn’t want to slip.

What burns me up is that like with the freeloaders and most everyone else that’s ever fucked me over in any way, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. There’s just no fighting back. I also don’t believe in dragging innocent people into feuds. Why involve her aunt in this? She didn’t do anything. I could’ve been meaner than hell and dragged Larry Jr. into my dispute with his sick father, but I didn’t. I know it really would’ve hurt like hell too, for him to hear things like - you murdered your son just like you yourself said - etc.

I can’t picture Teddy Bear being spiteful in the way that most people are, but would she go further than just not having anything to do with me? Would she contact Scot herself? Would she call and bitch me out, telling me to forget about writing to her next year? Or would she be pissed, then be chilled out by May, finding my letter too sweet to resist responding to?

Fat chance on that last one!

Just how closely do the mailroom people read letters? If they spotted DO’s names would they still give the letter to Mary? Or would they themselves find a way to bring it to the bear’s attention?

Anyway, unless Scot contacts me about this shit, it’s going to be 2-3 weeks before I know for sure what’s going on. I mean, there’s still a chance that Mary just may, after all, drop me without dragging Teddy Bear into this, but I highly doubt it.

Sooner or later, I’m going to get over Teddy Bear, but it hurts. It really hurts. To know I’ll never see her, never learn her name, never learn about her, never hug her, never give her any mice, never show her this house, never see her house, and yes, never have sex. I know it would’ve come to that as long as she wasn’t with anyone she met during the year. But like I said before, I never made it with someone I was this attracted to in the past, so why would I now? That always seemed to be totally forbidden to me. Just not in the cards at all.

Sooner or later Mary’s not going to be a witness anymore and the DOC has to come and get her, regardless of what state she’ll be in, but not soon enough. Nowhere near soon enough. Even her getting out of there in 3 weeks isn’t fast enough because the bear usually works there once every week or two (although Mary said she hadn’t worked there in weeks). Teddy Bear may not work M Dorm till 3 weeks from now, but I know Mary will be there then and whether or not she’s with Ida, she’ll trash me then. It’ll be worse, though, if she is with Ida. They’d feel much more comfortable trashing me together since they’re both pissed at me than they would if they were separated. Not that separation would change things. They’ll still fuck me over. Especially Mary. It’s just that she may do it a bit more gently if she doesn’t have Ida right there cheering her on.

What’s done is done, though, and what’s fated to be is going to be. If I’m not meant to have the bear in my future, I won’t. God’s not going to let me have what he doesn’t want me to have. Period. I just wish he didn’t let the bear and I mount to what we did if he doesn’t want us to be a part of each other’s lives! It’s like - why have me crying over not being able to have a kid from 1994-1997 if he knew he didn’t want me having one?

If only I could be wrong, though! I don’t see how there could be a chance of that, but oh how nice it’d be to get a letter from Mary saying she was never mad at me, yes we’re still friends, no I haven’t shown any of your stuff to anyone.

Here’s another question I have: could she two-face me by bullshitting me by saying everything’s cool, yet trash me to the bear behind my back? I think that, in a sense, would be even worse; having her be all lovey-dovey in her letters all the while she’s laughing her ass off, fucking me over behind my back!