I am so frustrated and so pissed off with these fucking mailroom games we’ve been playing! For the fifth time, an envelope was sent back to me. It was sent back by LaBorde, and I was like LaVoice you asshole! You wake me up with your loud obnoxious mouth, steal my extra towel, mimic me from the tower as if I was some fool not to be taken seriously simply because I was an inmate and not another DO, and now you waste me yet another stamp!

This time around the problem was my not having my name on the return address. I am so fucking sick of this shit! There’s always a problem. And what took them so long to bitch about this? It was okay to send tulip stationery, then one day it wasn’t. It was okay not to have my name, and now it isn’t. Next thing I know I’m going to find out purple ink’s not okay! I know it’s not Mary’s fault, but I can’t deal with this shit anymore and God knows how many more envelopes are on their way back to me. Because of this and because Mary’s now writing in a more orderly fashion, I asked her if it’s really necessary that I send her typed drafts cuz I want to cut down to writing just letters once every 1-2 weeks. Or must she have them? I would still send a disk to her aunt as soon as one’s filled up, but I asked her to let me know what she wants to do. If she absolutely has to have the typed drafts, I’ll still send them. Or try to anyway. I know she looks forward to lots of mail from me, but it’s just not worth it if half of what I send is gonna only end up being sent right back. I’m sure she’ll understand.

I didn’t know DOs did mail. I thought it was just regular people that they hired specifically to do that.

Anyway, she sent back pictures of her aunt and uncle and asked me to scan them into the computer before sending them back, so I scanned them in at 300 DPI. Hopefully I won’t get them returned saying that all of a sudden no pictures of people eating are allowed! (her aunt was eating something in one of the pictures) If that’s the case I’ll send them to her aunt.

She asked me if I believe in the afterlife. That’s a damn good question. Truthfully, I don’t know what to believe and neither does Tom. We’ve discussed it before. The problem we have with the reincarnation theory is how the population fluctuates. If 10 people die and 5 people are born, where do the spirits of the other 5 go? If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I hope I come back as an animal or even a tree. One life as a person is enough! I just don’t know what to believe. Maybe we come back, maybe our spirits roam through the galaxy, maybe we just blink out and that’s it. I don’t think I believe in heaven or hell. At least I hope there’s no such thing! If there were, since no one’s perfect, I would think that would mean we’re all going to hell! Seriously, though, I don’t think murderers go to hell and that the do-gooders who love God go to heaven. I think that’s just a combination of wishful thinking and people just saying that to get you to do what they believe is the right thing. Of course you’re going to tell a murderer they’re gonna fry in hell. You’re not going to tell them they’re going to spend an eternity in heaven after they’ve killed someone! Those who bash gays and tell them they’re going to hell are nothing more than bigots who want to try to scare gays into going straight, as far as I’m concerned.

Tom heard a frightening, but not surprising statistic the other day, and that’s that in 10 years, minorities will be the majority in this country. Wonderful. Just what we need. I swear they already are, though. At least they sure do seem to be the majority in this state.

Paula’s back to her I’ll-call-you games. This time around Justin even gave me a time she was supposed to call, but of course she didn’t. That’s okay, though, I’m tired of listening to her babble about her man problems. After saying we now have long-distance blocks on our line, Justin asked for the number again, saying Paula lost it. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered emailing the number. I decided I’d keep sending monthly journals, but I’ll be damned if I’ll play phone with Paula just to hear her scream all about men and not let me get a word in edgewise. Every time I do try to change the subject, she’s right back to the usual shit and I’m just so sick of it. It really does get old! All she wants to do is talk about herself. The whole conversation is always centered on her and her fighting with this one and fighting with that one, and about mail she never sent.

Saturday’s trip to Mary’s went quicker and better than I anticipated. I thought they’d end up having to make more than one trip to the hardware store and even have to come back another day to finish the job, but it went smoothly and we were out the 8 hours we anticipated we would be, leaving at 10:00 and returning at 6:00.

Mary was grateful to me for keeping Dave and Pepper entertained while the two of them worked in the bathroom and Mom sat in her room knitting and working on a puzzle. Dave and I mostly talked about music and animals. I emailed him jokes and he says he’ll email some after his brother back in New York sends him some.

We did silly things like hiding Tom’s shoes in the new sink cabinet and blowing bubbles. Actually, we let the fan blow them into the bathroom. Just like Tom and Mary have always been the more grown-up and mature type, so to speak, Dave and I were always goofy and playful.

We all had pizza like we usually do.

He feels the same way we do about Maricopa. “There are no trees,” he said. “I’d rather have a cabin in the woods.” Yes, the openness and constant heat do get old. I still think I’d prefer heat to cold, though, even if I wouldn’t have to play bus in it.

When Tom, Mary and Dave were at the store, Mom and I talked about Spanish, music, hairstyles, animals, her trip to visit Steven and Carol in California, etc. She says she’s doing well with Spanish. I surprised her with a brief letter in Spanish. Of course, not a word about Nickolena and Parker now that the subject wouldn’t depress me or overwhelm me with envy.

I surprised myself by deciding to get some fish. Mary and Dave have tons of guppies and agreed to give us some. Tom already has a pump. All we’d need is a filter, a lid, food, decorative things for them to swim through and hide in, and an algae-eating fish. I’d also pick out more colorful gravel. They have white gravel with a few scattered pieces of blue. I’d want something like neon pink, of course.

I took one of the 15-gallon tanks, filled it with water in one of the shower stalls and was utterly astounded to find it didn’t leak. Yesterday I emptied it out, put it on top of the big TV, then filled it up. You’ve got to let the water sit for a few days before you stick fish in it. It’ll probably be a week for us, and who knows how they’ll take to well water?

Anyway, I guess it’ll be cool to see, though in the past fish never interested me cuz I always preferred something warm, soft, cuddly and furry.