Damn this doll curse and damn that post office! I already sent a message to PG, telling them that they let the last doll sit on their shelf for a month without even trying to deliver it, so could they give them a call to double-check for Carmencita? I’ll have Tom leave a note in the box, too. Either way, I know that if I haven’t gotten her by now, I’m in for a wait, as usual.

Why does this always have to happen to me? Why?

In other news, I was standing at the kitchen sink yesterday evening at 7:30 when I heard sirens. My first thought was, oh no! My worst nightmare’s come true, but I didn’t do it! I swear. Whatever they’re here for, I didn’t do it!

Then I thought of the new rental. After all, they’re like the freeloaders only without the music; always something going on back there. Sure enough, I peered out back and saw an ambulance there, though I couldn’t tell what happened. All I saw were a few adults and a few kids milling about, then a woman came from either the side or the back of the house and got into the passenger side of the ambulance before it took off.

Nothing going on back there that I can see of today. God, they’re an eyesore with all the shit they’ve got on their property, though like I said before, better seen than heard. There’s always someone home too, so maybe there’s an elderly person living there that needs caring for and that’s who the ambulance was for. Tom even suggested this. Remember, we live in a time when homemakers are bashed, even if they have small kids, so it’s unlikely that someone’s home all day without some other reason. Also, it’s very hard to afford even junk houses on just one income, and most people don’t make what Tom makes in this state. He makes excellent money for Arizona.

The more I think about it, the more I think it’s the house that ends up in front of us that I’ve got to worry about. It’ll be the closest house to us, something God will no doubt take note of. If the closest house to us in Phoenix had been the house across the street, then that’s where the blacks/Mexicans would’ve been fated to end up.

Tom and I made a few deals. He says he promises to bury the old plastic piping that keeps getting blown around this weekend that’s sitting in the wash, and he says we can get fences in January.

We’ll see, but with or without the freeloaders and Scot hanging over me like a dark cloud, being the never-ending shadow that exists in my life, I want this damn property fenced! I’m sick of having to worry about dogs approaching me whenever I go out. I’d feel a lot less exposed, and we wouldn’t have to lock the gate. Not unless I was planning on sleeping during cheek hours. Otherwise, locks would be useless against anyone up to no good, cuz all they’d have to do is cut the thing with metal cutters.

Anyway, I’d be willing to bet my dolls on Scot’s not lessening the home visits as the so-called end gets nearer. I think he’ll play this up to the end just like I’ve always said. And just because he hasn’t said anything, I’m not gonna assume I beat this class bullshit, either. If October 30th of ’03 were tomorrow, I still wouldn’t assume this was a closed chapter in my life. After the way I’ve been lied to, tricked and manipulated in every conceivable way, why should I believe anything I’m told now?

Because Scot came so late in June, I wonder if this means he’ll skip July altogether and come in early to mid-August after it’s been about 6 weeks? It’s just so asinine that I have to see him as often as I do over a letter. If I’ve got to be on probation, I shouldn’t be seeing him more than once a month. I’ve seen him 37 times already in the 13 months I’ve been home. What did those pigs say about me?! They no doubt said I was this dangerous monster from hell! Tom said that that would’ve been the impression that was given, too. Yeah, I’m sure it was. Always gotta exaggerate, the fucking pigs.

Though it would be nice if they’d magically disappear, I don’t want all the blacks and Mexicans to die; I just want them to leave us alone and get the fuck out of our lives! They’re not going away and I know that, so as long as they cannot interfere with our everyday lives, I’ll live with them. I have no choice. I just don’t want them ever again to make their business ours and to get me thrown in jail when they’re the perpetrators who provoked me and deserved whatever it is I might’ve given them.

But I know better now. There’ll be no words either out of my mouth or on paper should this ever happen again. In Arizona, you either beat your tormentors off your back or you simply sit back and take their shit till one of you moves.

Anyway, I’m guessing there’ll be about 10 more visits here from Scot, so when you add that, plus my visits to him, plus the times I’ve already seen him, that’s nearly 80 times I’ll just have to see him in a 2½-year period over a letter!

I’m just so afraid of being set up again! They already know we won’t fight back, though I intend to surprise them next time around now that I know the law better, but because I’ve sent a message to the state saying I’ll take whatever shit they feel like dishing out to me, that could make me a little more vulnerable to more corruption and abuse by this fucked up system.

Later…

Wow. It’s actually thundering out there right now. The winds are dead calm, though, and judging by the looks of the clouds, I doubt we’ll get any real rainfall. At least the clouds cool things off a bit, even if it makes for more humidity. It brings the renters outside more, too.

Later…

The usual slew of workers is in back now. It looks like this time around they’re working on their cooler.

We had a few minutes of rainfall, but now it’s clearing up.

No photo album viewing for yesterday.

Still no response from PG, either. Hopefully, they’re getting on the PO’s ass about delivering me the damn doll rather than just saying that they tried to. Or maybe they’re going to wait till it’s been 30 days from when the doll was shipped. In that case, the doll will just have to sit at the PO till then. Maybe not, though, if Tom will agree to put the note in the box.

Finished proofreading 1987-1993, so now I’ll begin 1994.