Sure enough, the birds and the prairie dogs are happily sifting through the rat’s bedding that I just dumped out in the wash.

Tom was right. No mention of the classes. Mr. Serious himself was a bit looser today. A bit more talkative. Last time, it was like he was either in a bad mood, not feeling well, or tired. First we were held up by some mouthy dude who might as well have been coming to chat with an old buddy rather than his PO. This guy swore more than I do, too. When it was finally my turn to give him my form, he asked what was up and we told him about the car AC that crapped out on us.

See? Right on schedule. Can’t go more than 3-4 months without something expensive breaking. It’s a good thing Tom had that $500 from the stock money away to cover it. He better replace it too, as soon as he can so that we’re covered for the next thing that’ll break around September.

I mentioned looking forward to picking up Joy on Monday and getting class info.

When he asked if there were any changes, I said, “No. Well, actually, there is a change. You just haven’t noticed.”

Tom giggled at that point, then he noticed my hair and I said, “Yeah, I did a half-assed job, but I tried.”

Wait till he sees us both as bleached blondes!

Anyway, I was fucking sweating my ass off on the drive in and I thought the mister I brought along with me was broken. As Tom discovered right when we got there, the rubber ring had slipped to the side and just needed to be straightened out. That mister’s a real lifesaver, though. My heart was pounding just like it always does when I get overheated.

Anyway, he’s talking about either renting an air pump or borrowing one from work to convert the fucking thing so he can recharge it himself.

The weekend, which always seems to go too fast as long as the freeloaders are still in our lives, is going to go awfully slow this time around. That’s cuz we’ll be getting Joy Monday and I can’t wait! I think Tom’s gonna have to get her himself what with the way my schedule is now. Tomorrow, for the first time in over a month, I’m not setting the alarm!

The freeloaders wouldn’t let poor Tom sleep today. He didn’t get to bed till 10:00, then I woke him up at 1:00. If I’d known he didn’t get to sleep till that late, I wouldn’t have gotten him up till 3:00.

Anyway, at first I thought Tom couldn’t pick shoes out for Jade by himself, but it really wouldn’t be so hard for him. All he has to do is choose either a pair of plain white sneakers or sandals of some kind. If the shoes aren’t suitable for her, I’ll just use them on someone else.

Speaking of Jade, now that I’m getting to learn more about dolls, I made a discovery that both Tom and I laughed at. That 25” green-eyed Jade doll I like is my exact same Jade doll. They make her molds in either 25” or 32” like mine is, just like you can get Joy at either 19” or 26” like I’m getting.

They also have series depicting the same doll at different ages. There are a few dolls, Bailey being one of them, that have 3 different versions. There’s baby Bailey at 20”, then there’s my toddler Bailey at 24”, and sweet sixteen Bailey at 29”. I like the “Shay” series and I hope to have it someday.

Sometimes I can’t even decipher my own notes. A couple of lines down from where I’m actually typing, I like to list notes of the topics I wish to write about. Well, I’ve got the word slow written and I can’t figure out what the hell I meant by that. I’m like, what’s slow?

We both totally, totally mean it this time - we will never ever, ever go into another Dairy Queen as long as we live! Aaarrrggghhh! Those stupid, stupid Mexicans! I’m so sick of them and their stupidity and living in Little Mexico like this. Naturally, Tom insists it has nothing to do with people’s nationality, but I’m sorry, the bulk of them are either evil or downright dumb and illiterate.

We go in there and one of the two gigantic young and dumb Mexicans gives me the burger and fries I ask for in a reasonable amount of time. Shortly afterward comes my blizzard which is filled so full that ice cream’s slopping over its edges. The Mexie was too stupid to understand when I asked her to put the cup in its cover instead of trying to cover the top of the fucking thing and make even more of a mess. I don’t know if she had a problem with English or if she was just stupid, but I’m sure it was a combination of both. Meanwhile, Tom’s waiting and waiting for his own blizzard till he finally gets fed up and says, “Hey, look. He’s getting the same thing I ordered and you’ve served 5 others after I ordered.”

So the Mexie runs and makes him his blizzard, then he goes, “And then they don’t even fill it up.” And they didn’t. He got a large and I got a small, but between them not filling his and them overfilling mine, we ended up with the same amount.

I’m so sick of these stupid Mexicans, though. Sick of them! If they’d just get at least a high school diploma, instead of dropping out in 8th grade to join gangs, get high and spit out kids as fast as popcorn popping, maybe they wouldn’t be so fucking dumb. And goddamnit! This is America. We speak English here. I’m all for learning other languages, but if we’re gonna be dumb enough ourselves to let them keep pouring into this country, shouldn’t they at least have the decency to learn our fucking language if we’re gonna be forced to live together?!

I tacked a flag up to cover the skylight. It looks kind of cool with the light shining through the iris flag I chose, but we really could use a shade for it. It doesn’t cover it all, either. The skylight’s a few inches longer. Not as wide, though, so I folded it a bit.

I can’t pull any jokes on Tom to save my life, though as he admitted, it was a good try. It’s mostly because he knows I’m a little prankster and a joker. I tried to tell him that Lizzie Borden, who was accused and acquitted of axing her father and stepmother in Fall River, MA in 1892, was my great, great grandmother.

In truth, I don’t know when any of my grandparents were born, let alone when their parents were born. I don’t even know their names.

Tom knew that Lizzie Borden never had kids, and told me that if I had said she was a great, great aunt, then he may’ve bought the story.