Another pound down. I’m taking a break today, which should cause me to gain two pounds back, but I’ll be dieting again over the weekend. Then Monday we’ll be going out to eat, so I won’t resume dieting yet again, if I decide to continue with it, that is, till Tuesday.

I was browsing through the more humorous wallpapers last night when I came across one that would’ve been perfect for the freeloaders. It showed a hand holding a gun and said: Warning! I don’t dial 911. When I commented to Tom about it, instead of having any kind of a sense of humor about it, he said, “Yeah, that’s how all this trouble got started.”

When I asked what he meant, he said, “If you hadn’t thought that way in the first place, all this trouble wouldn’t have happened.”

Yeah, I know. It’s all my fault. Everything’s always my fault. Of course, it’s just as easy for me to say that if he had let me handle the bitch my way to begin with, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Nor would we if he’d listened to me when I told him something was very wrong with Paul, paid off Sharon, and stayed away from the courthouse.

I know Tom blames me way more than he blames them, besides the fact that it’s in Tom’s nature to blame me when I’m mad at or having a problem with someone. I don’t think it’s right and I believe he should stand by his wife, but this is just the way he’s always been. If I start bitching about Jane Doe or Joe Shmoe, he’ll start bitching at me for bitching at them, implying either directly or indirectly that I have no grounds to be pissed at them, and perhaps I asked for trouble somehow.

Believe me, I know it’s my fault even though it isn’t. Meaning, I’m not responsible for the freeloader’s actions. I didn’t make them harass us the way they did, nor did I do anything to them to deserve it, other than to ask them to lower their music. If that’s provocation in the freeloader’s eyes, then that just goes to prove how warped they truly are, though they picked on us before we asked them to quiet down and would’ve done so if we never said a word to them as well. They were in their own little world, oblivious to those around them unless they were putting thought into badgering me, like by chaining the dog to the jeep in the carport, so it could be as close as possible to our house.

I kick and blame myself all the time for how I handled the freeloaders, the pigs, Paul - the whole damn thing. However, nothing I did/said/wrote warrants being locked up and placed on probation. I didn’t ask for the shit these freeloaders gave me. I never deserved the shit they gave me directly in Phoenix, and I never deserved the shit they’ve given me through the Jew-hating pig and our minority-pampering system after leaving Phoenix, either. Regardless of guilt or innocence, anyone can say/write that they’re gonna kill someone. Anyone can. 95% of the time it’s just talk. Meanwhile, if we were to lock up everybody who made a threat at one point or another during their lives, 95% of the population would be locked up.

Although I wanted to rip the shit out of Nancy, and although I knew I couldn’t stand to be her celly one moment longer, I knew she was full of it when she threatened me. She knew I’d have Chavez pull me and that’s exactly what she wanted at first so she could be alone till she got bored being all by herself.

I’m not saying no one acts on their threats, but 9 out of 10 times, those who are serious act if they’re going to act, they don’t make threats. Most threats are either said in moments of anger or simply meant to intimidate people or to get them off their backs.

Nothing bothers me more than when Tom said, “I just want to see that she gets help” at the sentencing. I mean, what kind of a defense is that? Doesn’t he realize how guilty that made me seem? He even had Paula believing I picked on the cunt for no good reason at all and told her I’d probably do it again.

Yes, he’s stuck by me through all this shit, but just how much is he really on my side?

The wallpaper site I’ve been into lately, lets you send their pictures as e-cards, the equivalent of postcards. I’ve sent pink flowers to Tom for our anniversary tomorrow, and then a couple of rabbits on a skateboard for his birthday.

It’s been 28 days since we ordered Joy. Something’s wrong. How the fuck am I gonna be a dollmaker if I’m always going to have to chase down the dolls?! I’m sure God will have me fighting for greenware just as much as he does assembled dolls. Still, we’re ordering those dolls from Paradise Galleries tomorrow. I’ll make sure he hangs onto the order number so that we can have them put a trace on whatever dolls I don’t get in 30 days from tomorrow.

In other news, I made the comment to Tom that I’d probably never have sex again in my life, meaning that no one seems to be serious when they claim to be attracted to me and want me.

Then he said, “I know, you told me.”

I was like, “No I didn’t. What do you mean, I told you?”

Then he goes on to say that I told him I wouldn’t do it with him, and I’m like - what I crock! I never said that. What I said was that I could live without it, since it was nothing new and exciting. Besides, he’s a bore in bed. I didn’t need to tell him this, though. But it’s nothing personal against him. These days nothing could turn me on but a woman I was attracted to going down on me and that’s never going to happen.

It’s all bullshit, though. Just bullshit. Why can’t he admit that we both have no interest in getting it on together? Like I said, if it isn’t gonna be the bear going down on me here and there, I’d rather be celibate. I can’t get it on with just any woman, so I guess this means God wants me to be faithful, even though he cursed the sex life we used to have, even if it was a joke of one. Despite the fact that I no longer desire sex or a kid, I still feel just as picked on by getting a man who only gets hard as I do blessed by him sending me someone with Tom’s personality.

I just don’t get God. It’s like he has a weak moment where he’s suddenly in this wonderful mood and he blesses me with something good, but most of the time he just wants to hurt me. He lives for seeing me hurt. How totally cruel of him, after allowing me to be thrown in jail when I never should’ve been there in the first place, to finally, after all these years, meet and fall in love with a woman I’m attracted to, who was attracted to me back, or so she said, only to put the joke on me in the end. I’m sure he was up there laughing his ass off every time I’d sit and think in excited anticipation of seeing her again on the outs.

Is he up there laughing down at me right now? Is he saying to himself, so, she thinks she’s gonna be a dollmaker, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to remind her who’s in charge of her life, and it ain’t her!

Later…

Earlier I had said to myself and to Tom, “It’s only dolls, so why would God stop me from making them?”

Just because he can. Foolish or not, I’m not giving up, though it doesn’t matter that it’s only dolls. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as farfetched as jumping to the moon, or as natural as having a baby. If it’s what I want, it’s probably out of the question. He can stop me by having people fuck up on me like they do when I try to get assembled dolls. He can stop me from selling any by simply making sure no one buys any. With God as my enemy and a force that’s a million times more powerful than anyone in this world, I don’t stand a chance if he stands against me.

I know God views, judges and treats us all differently. Some of us he hates, some of us he likes, some of us he loves. I think the only way he’d truly love me would be if I did everything I didn’t want to do. If I ate things I didn’t like, wore clothes I didn’t like, and did things I didn’t like. But whenever I can help it and get some say in the matter, it’s not going to happen.

I don’t have to sit and guess or wonder if he’d have the courts punish anyone who beat, raped or killed me. I know the answer to that. He wouldn’t just let them get away with it, he’d reward them with all kinds of wonderful things in life. If a person with an average life harmed me like that, all of a sudden they’d be winning the lottery, getting the job promotions, getting lucky in love and they’d have virtually no health problems. They would have the willpower to quit smoking or lose weight if they wanted to.