That was the most activity I’ve ever seen on Ralston at once since I’ve been here! An ATV zipped up the road, then a redheaded woman on a brown horse galloped by. Following her was a brunette on a white horse, then a pickup towing a water tank came by the opposite way.

Yesterday, from dusk to late night, it rained steadily on and off. You can still see moisture in the ground, though there are no standing puddles. I just hope this doesn’t bring in the spiders!

I’m not sure what to make of Little Buddy. He still seems worse than ever, yet he gives me flashes of hope at times. Particularly after I closed my eyes, concentrated really hard, and exhaled gently, breathing “life” into him, so to speak. I remembered the time he got really sick last April and was certainly doomed to die, yet I somehow saved him. Do I have the power to heal, if not extend, the life of our pets? Or is Little Buddy just somehow different? I really thought I was going to lose him last night. I was torn between wanting him to go if he was in pain and not wanting him to leave me.

I decided I wasn’t comfortable with them two bitches in the big cage. Every time I’d open the roof or the downstairs door, I’d be paranoid they’d slip out, so I moved the crabs into the small tank and coaxed the bitches into the small wire cage they were using. This took forever, too! This way I’ll never have to worry about them, they won’t be getting knocked up every few weeks, and I can even change the cage with them inside it. All I have to do is take it outside and tip it. The bedding with fall through the wire. Then I can put new bedding in by hand like I will with their food. The only question will be how to get the babies out when they’re born. Because these rats are completely unmanageable and may bite if I get too close, I may have to remove them with tongs.

Here comes the damn ATV again. Anything’s better than bass, but these can get annoying enough if it’s in excess. It’s weird how they sound so close at times, yet you can’t see them.

Although I have come to like some of the current music, oh how I wish the music of today were like the 70s! I miss the times when half the music wasn’t defiant, angry, nasty blacks singing about “niggas,” ghetto gangsters, drugs, violence, poverty and all the other shit they stand for.

I have all 12 of my photo albums with their 524 pictures uploaded. No views or downloads yet.

I still tremble with anger when I think about how the courts could care less about what I want. Instead, everything’s what she wants and that’s scary. What if she’d cried out for the death penalty? Would they have given it to her? It’s really unnerving to know one can just make such demands if they’re of a certain race/color. Now that bitch no doubt has a sense of ownership over me and that worries me, too.

Just saw the ATV go by. That wasn’t too loud, I guess. A petite woman was on it. I couldn’t tell if it was an adult or a teenager.

I think I’ll go try to finish fine-tuning my ’96 file.

Later…

Those ATVs are getting on my nerves! I can’t tell if there’s more than one or not, but there’s at least one that sounds so close, even though I can never see it, and it sits there gunning its engine like Dan would with his old trucks. It does this every 20 minutes or so.

I wonder what poor unfortunate souls are now having to live with the lovely welfare bum’s shit. That is, at close range. Well, God help anyone who might complain about them! At first I didn’t buy it when the DA insisted that the Mexicans split, knowing that all those people wouldn’t be afraid of me any more than the black bitch and company ever were. They split cuz they no doubt had tons of warrants on them. Besides, they weren’t put there for the Halvorsons. They were put there for me.

Damn! Those ATVs have been going for two hours now. Give it a break, buddy! I know it’s better than balls bouncing right outside our windows and inmate’s screams echoing off the walls, but still.

I asked Tom what he thought would be the appropriate thing to do should Mary get me anything for Christmas; should I return it or keep it, no matter what the gift is? He said I should keep it.

Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t hurt me to do so, though being that I’m not a forgiving person, things can never be the way they used to be. She forever lost that at the casino.

I hear of people forgiving rapists, beaters, and murderers, but I could never ever do that. I could never forgive the freeloaders, for example, even if I wanted to. Everybody has their limits as to what they’ll endure from others and this girl’s simply taken too much shit from people, most of it needlessly, I’m sorry to say. I know better by now than to bother with people like Mary. I just move on. Period. With the exception of Tom, and although I don’t expect people to be perfect, I’m not going to be people’s sucker by forgiving, getting shit on, forgiving, getting shit on…

It bothers me to know that if Tom were at Mary’s right now and she asked how I was doing (pertaining to how I felt about her snapping demands at me), he’d say, “She’s doing alright.”

But that’s not what he should say. He should be honest and be like, “Well, she’s not too happy with you…”

Later…

Darkness has set me free of the ATVs, but it’s no cover for music. That’s one thing you just can’t escape no matter what. It’s never like it was in Phoenix out here, but it is winter, the most active time out here, and it is the holiday season, so you never know what may erupt and when.

Later…

Tom and I watched a little TV together and we pretty much did the things we usually do when we’re home. Sure enough, we heard the thumping of base at one point. He said it sounded live and far away, like maybe from the RVP a few miles away.

I’ll sleep with my fan on high in case the damn ATVs are out and about before I get up.

Tomorrow we’re going to order a mug with my favorite picture of Little Buddy on it. The one where he was licking ice cream off of a butter knife with his little pink tongue.

He’s still weak but hanging in there. Jumping up on the couch has become quite a task for him and he gets winded easily. He doesn’t explore nearly as much. When he’s out of the cage, he pretty much just sits on a vent or his little video perch, a small stack of videos under one of the den tables. Still wags the tail when I pat him, though.

Well, I guess this concludes my journaling for November of ’02. One more month till we begin a year that’ll no doubt start off with much anxiety and frustration, yet hopefully end on an extremely happy note! Yeah, it’s my last year with you in my life, you fucking freeloaders! No one’s going to stop me from moving on and walking away from these people, along with anything or anyone who’s ever been associated with them in any way. I’m washing my hands clean of them 335 days from now no matter what.

Poor, poor Little Buddy. He really seems quite uncomfortable. His arthritis is no doubt worsened by this damp, dreary weather we’ve been having. He’s really slowed down and is having a hard time getting around. Whether or not the dying process has actually begun, or if he’ll improve when it dries up, is too soon to say.

Little Fella, on the other hand, remains perky yet skittish. He’s a curious one, venturing further out each time he hops out of the cage. He likes to climb all over me, too.

I don’t expect to get any more jokes from Dave, cuz usually, when one spouse dislikes someone, the other automatically does, too. That’s okay, though, cuz I know where to go to get jokes.

I don’t expect Tom to dislike and stop seeing Mary simply cuz I no longer want anything to do with her. I want him to do as he pleases. I just don’t like it when I feel like he’s siding with her or making me feel like my feelings are unfounded.

I forgot about the money for fixing the truck. When I asked Tom about why certain things had to wait, he reminded me about the money we’d need to get the truck up and running.

He emailed PG, and of course, they’ve been ignoring him so far. Guess they need more time to think up a story.

He called about the little pocket-size sewing machine we never got, and they’re sending another one out. I’m amazed that a non-doll-related item didn’t make it to us yet the Playboys did. That’s the difference, as Tom pointed out, between UPS and the PO. UPS costs much more, though, but they sure are more reliable.

I became a Webshots member for two years for $42 yesterday. Now I can make 50 albums with 60 pictures. That’s 3000 pictures! I doubt I’ll ever have that many. I got pissed, though, last night when I was using this really cool thing for quicker uploading cuz it wouldn’t work at one point. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but all’s fine now. I guess their server when on the fritz.

We spent a few hours in the casino, and you know, I’m really getting sick of Mary! I appreciate her help and all that, but I’m just sick of her snobby, bossy, I’m-better-than-you attitude. I know no one’s perfect and it’s not like I hate her or won’t ever talk to her again, but I’d say the time has definitely come to avoid her as much as possible.

The whole time I felt like she was bored, even annoyed with my presence. Especially when I’d talk. When Tom or Mom talked, she’d look at them for the most part and respond in a friendly way, but with me, she might as well have told me to shut up. She had such an I-don’t-care and I-don’t-want-to-hear-it attitude no matter what I said. I let Tom do most of the talking. I didn’t really have a whole lot to say anyway.

I told her I was sorry if my email overwhelmed her and Dave, and she said the same thing Tom said she said about it being extreme. Then I got to thinking about it and was like, you know, all they have to do is save the shit and read it at their leisure. Did I say they had to read every single message as soon as they got it? No, I didn’t.

It was like once again I was being made to feel like I forced mail on someone, although in a very different way.

Anyway, unlike Dave who got a ton of jokes, Mary only received a few pictures from me and one email telling her about my New Year’s resolution, my helping Mary and trivial things like that. All of which I got absolutely no response to, as is the usual case. Not even a quick and simple that’s cool.

It seemed like she would argue or challenge a lot of the things I’d say. We were talking about which foods were good versus bad for dieting. When I mentioned the 5 no-nos being sugar, bread, potatoes, pasta and rice, she was like, that’s not bad, you just want to have them in moderation, and while this may be true, I still felt like I was being challenged for the most part.

Despite the fact that I’ve never been less than kind to Mary, I’ve always felt that she dislikes me, and it seems to worsen with time. I think Tom may’ve made me out to be the perp in the freeloader’s case like he did with Paula and that may have something to do with it, though she’s welcome to believe whatever she wants. Tom just seems hung up on defending others where I’m concerned, both directly and indirectly. Couples are supposed to defend each other no matter what. If he came home bitching about something Dave did, I’m not going to side with Dave or even suggest that may he’s wrong and Dave’s right. I’m not going to play things down, either. He challenges and interrupts me on a lot of things I say to Scot, and it really bothers me. It makes me look bad, not to mention the fact that I don’t like it. A spouse should stand by and support the other spouse when they’re talking. Not embarrass them. I mean, that’s disrespectful in a sense. It really frustrates me when he does that and even pisses me off somewhat. Especially when it’s not like I’m telling Scot I’m going to kill someone or something like that. All I’ve ever done, and at times when I felt it was best appropriate, was get my feelings off my chest. Not that I have the power to change things, not that Scot does either, but it just helps me to do so at times, even if things can never be changed. Tom keeps doing it, though. My requests for him to not interrupt or challenge me when dealing with Scot have gone ignored.

Anyway, back to Mary. She was playing a slot machine and I was standing next to her at one point. Naturally, as is fated to be, she was winning and winning while we lost the money mom gave us which was $40 apiece. The longer I stood by her, the more she started losing. Jokingly, although I believed in what I said, I said, “Oops! My no-win vibes are rubbing off on you.”

Then she snaps at me, telling me I needed to stop saying that, and I’m like, great. Another person telling me what I need to do and getting all huffy over the dumbest things. It’s like she took my comment so seriously! I felt like she was being very non-tolerant and rather controlling, so I just calmly turned and headed off to find Tom. I wasn’t going to hang around with what I felt was rather unpleasant company. I don’t tell her how to be and I wasn’t about to let her tell me how I had to be.

When I told Tom that Mary got mad at me, he looked at me with concern and I asked myself, why do I get the feeling this guy’s more concerned for her feelings than mine?

As we were about to leave, Tom and Mary were chatting and I was close by. I stepped away for a bit cuz I didn’t feel comfortable that close to Mary, and said to myself, watch. Mary will get into it with Tom about what happened, Tom will side with her, then he’ll lecture me.

That’s exactly what happened too, once we left. Everyone insists I’m negative, yet to me, I’m simply being realistic.

“Some realistic things may be negative, but you don’t need to keep going on and on about it,” Tom told me.

But I didn’t. I didn’t go “on and on” about it. I mentioned having no-win vibes when we first entered the casino, then I put in my two cents by saying that I believed winning chance games like this was a matter of fate, after Mary said it was attitude, then when I was joking with her about making her lose (perhaps attitude’s more connected to strategy games, but games of chance, I don’t think so). So 3 times, and once when Mary brought it up first. My, my! 3 might as well be 300 to these people!

Tom said Mary felt sorry for snapping at me, and I was like if she felt so sorry about it, why couldn’t she tell me that herself? Just like when she put me on the spot and rudely took my picture without asking first. She apologized to me through Tom.

Whatever, though. I mean, it’s done and over with. She’s not a bad person and neither am I. We’re just different. I’ll just avoid her with fewer emails/visits. I still wish people could be like, hey, that’s just the way she is, and get off my ass. I never snapped at Mary or tried to make her believe as I do, and I want the same respect I give her. That’s all I want. She’s her and I’m me. She doesn’t have to like me, she doesn’t have to be me. Meanwhile, I’m sick of people complaining about every little thing I say and do.

Then Tom was telling me that if you believe you can’t do something, you can’t, but I know for a fact that this isn’t true. There have been times when I surprised myself by doing things I didn’t think I could do and by not doing things I thought I could do. He also said most people believe they can influence machines with their minds if they have the right attitude, which is telekinesis, but I don’t believe in that. I don’t think people can influence objects or the future, but I do think they can see what’s ahead for them.

“You’re way out of the mainstream,” he told me.

Yeah, I guess I was born out of the mainstream. Meanwhile, does it matter what we believe? Well, it shouldn’t. What should matter is that we don’t push our beliefs on others and go demanding that they stop this or change that. It’s like how the emphasis these days is on careers versus family and how some of us old-fashioned homemakers have to deal with others pressuring us to work. And then there’s the love thy minority trip everyone seems to be on. What good is the saying about treating others as you expect to be treated when no one treats you as you treat them? I give others the freedom to be themselves. When do I get the same respect? It’s like saying there are good and bad in all kinds, but I don’t know about that. Sure it’s true, but I think some kinds are leaning towards having much more bad in them than good.

Like I said, I shall ignore her more. Ignorance really is bliss! At least for me, it is when given the opportunity to do so. Furthermore, I think Mary may’ve betrayed me when I confided in her back in ’96 about my sterility. I don’t think she mentioned our little talk to Tom, but I’m pretty sure she did to Mom, so 3 strikes and I’d say she’s out. Not hated, not dumped, just ignored and avoided as much as possible. I mean, look how often she’s been to our house as opposed to us being at hers. There’s a huge difference. She rarely comes here, so I’ll rarely go there. Meanwhile, Tom can do as he pleases. He can talk to her every day if he wants.

At least Mary doesn’t live 3’ away, although as I’ve learned the hard way, not living 3’ away doesn’t always mean you can ignore someone.

If it’s true that we don’t do what we don’t think we can and we do or do what we think we can’t, why didn’t I become a singer back when I wanted that? Why didn’t he cum when he was so sure his problem would magically go away and that he’d cum regularly? Was it perhaps because he didn’t want to?

I wonder something, something that crossed my mind last night. Well, if my feelings of being teased by him back in the old house about having a kid were justified, could part of the reason he hasn’t been interested in sex be due to knowing he couldn’t tease me about that now? Would my not wanting a kid anymore take some of the “fun” out of it?

Anyway, the buffet was okay. Nothing great, but nothing bad.

The dolls in the gift shop, though, were like – wow! Much cheaper than I thought they’d be with a great variety. They had a bunch of small dolls that I never thought I’d get, but I couldn’t resist. They’re not realistic looking at all, but they’re so cute.

One’s only 4”. It’s all porcelain. You can stand it up or sit it down. I have it sitting. It has painted blue eyes and light brown hair. It wears a sleeveless dress with navy leafy vines on a white background. She wears a straw hat with trim consisting of the same material as her dress.

The other’s a blue-eyed blond that’s about 9” tall. Her dress is stunning. It’s lavender with colorful shiny trim. It also has white lace, lavender rosebuds, and skinny ribbons. She can stand or sit too, but she doesn’t sit well. She kind of straightens back out. She’d be a great doll for that 36” Chris doll to hold. Her hair’s swept up in a pile of pin curls on top of her head. In front of the curls is a lavender feather.

I named them Katie and Misha, using the names of dolls given to Paula.

Together they cost $19.50 (there’s no tax on the reservation.) I got them with the second $20 Ma gave me, knowing I was destined to lose gambling. (I have good vibes for Laughlin, though)

PG has a 35” doll named Juliet with lavender eyes, but I don’t know if I’m going to bother stealing it if I can. I just may not bother with them altogether. Besides, I don’t want karma to see me punished for 7 years for stealing an $80 doll.

Tom’s going to be installing a shower surround at Mary’s place, and of course, during his vacation, we’re going to hunt for the vent’s opening, tighten the house’s 60 jacks, and put the weather stripping in the front door.

I think there’s time to flip my schedule between now and the next freeloader day. I think I’ll do that, then stay on days throughout his vacation.

Speaking of the freeloaders, I dreamt last night that I went to see Scot and he said something about some dude he talked to being “impressed.” He went on to talk as if I was going to get off probation, then informed me that someone (obviously with much more authority than him) would be coming to see me at home.

So this dude comes to the house questioning why I’m sometimes on nights and sometimes on days. I told him I failed to see where that was relevant to my moving on, and furthermore, I wasn’t obligated to explain my lifestyle to him.

When I cut to the chase and asked if he was cutting me loose so I could get on with my life, he said no, but that he had a deal for me. The so-called deal was that if I could do one of the many impossible things he laid out for me to do, I could then be free to move on. Things like building an airplane, a tall building, a big mountain, etc.

I sat back, arms folded across my chest as I stared at him incredulously. Finally, I said, “Get your ass out of here. And don’t let me see it again.”

I wonder if Scot has stopped by during any of the times I’ve been out, which has been quite a bit lately (see, God? You don’t need to keep me on the appointment frenzy in order to keep me getting out regularly!), but I suppose that’s a stupid question. Of course he hasn’t!

I toyed with the idea of rearranging my office because just like the air cleaner did when it was on the other side of the wall behind my monitor, the fish filter’s making my monitor a bit jumpy. It’s got a slight tremor. I decided I can live with it, though. I really don’t want the hassle of rearranging right now. I wish my closet wasn’t where it’s at. That’s actually where I want this desk to be. Then I’d have a hell of a view.

On the way back, we stopped and picked up a letter from Mary with a 10-page draft. Sending them in 10s is good. It’s less confusing that way. Especially since she took my advice about continuous numbers. I sort of wish she’d take my advice about these poems to her future soul mate too, and put a hold on them. It just seems a bit premature. We’re supposed to be concentrating on the book, or so I thought. Besides, what if she doesn’t meet this person? I hope she does, though! Anyway, if it means that much to her, I’ll type them for her, but I would go sparingly on them. It’s up to her to write what she wants to write in the end. Another option would be for her to write them, send them to me to hold, then type them up when and if she meets this soul mate.

A part of me still wonders if I’m making a mistake by associating with her. I don’t see why or how she’d hurt me like the freeloaders have, and she seems to be very accepting of me and my ways, but what does the future hold as far as that goes? What problems could possibly lie ahead for me concerning her?

The ribs I made last night came out great. Nice and tender and similar to the roast I sometimes make. They were a lot easier to make too, and took only a couple of hours. I used the round glass pot with the cover. This way I didn’t have to clean the big black pot or do any carving. I don’t know the calories for these things, but perhaps I’ll make them on my diet. They can’t be that bad. That’s all I’d have, though, for my daily meal. The popcorn, my daily snack, isn’t going to do squat as far as filling me up goes, but for my meals, I intend to make sure I get pleasantly full. No more having 4-6 skimpy little portions to eat that leave me feeling like I ate nothing at all.

Later…

The frogs look like they might be getting bigger. Their little webbed footsies are so cute!

The pension money we’re getting will be $3,600.75 exactly. I’ll have to ask Tom when he gets up, cuz I’m confused about why the fences and the kiln have to wait till next year. If we’re getting what we’re getting from the pension money, $1,100 bimonthly, and a $500 bonus which he’ll probably get in December, why the wait? Does he feel like we could be more likely to make trouble for ourselves if we’re able to lock the freeloaders out sooner? Always the freeloaders take precedence over everything! Is putting the kiln off just another way of making me wait for something?

He had said I’d have to choose (presumably in January) which I wanted first – the dolls I’ve picked out or the kiln. If he thinks he can get a truck for around $500, like he says he’s come to believe, and the fences cost around the same amount, that’s a grand right there. The dolls and kiln won’t cost more than $1,500 and that’s figuring high. Of course there’s also the $200 the two of us will get for Christmas.

I just remembered our plans for the 2-way satellite and to upgrade my computer, but still, I think this and all the other stuff can fit into the pension money alone.

Anyway, I’m confident that ignoring Mary would be best. I think it’d not only be a good thing for me, but I think it might teach her something. Maybe this way she’ll learn that telling others what to do/not to do is not the way to go and that people will be more likely to be as she’d like them to be if she were more tolerant.

She was definitely rude and disrespectful and it’s a shame too, cuz normally she’s a pretty accepting person. I’ve always known her to be a smart, caring and dependable person. You know, the “mature,” responsible type.

Why do I always have so many problems like this with so many people? Does everyone get picked on for being the way they are? Or is it just me? Am I really that different and annoying? I don’t know, I used to think it was me, and perhaps it sometimes is. I’m not perfect. However, I just think it’s people. People in general like to control others and complain. I like to complain too, when something bothers me, but I usually do it in a more reasonable way than most people do. When I was bothered by some of the inmates in jail trying to push God on me, I asked them to please not tell me I need to find God, that I wasn’t interested, though they could do what they wanted and so on. Instead, I might as well have been talking to a bunch of deafos, cuz all I got was you have to, you must, you need to, etc.

I mentioned sewing lessons to Mom, but she didn’t seem so eager about the idea. That’s okay, though, cuz seeing her would mean having to see Mary more. I guess I’ll just try to figure it out for myself. Either that or make sure I make dolls big enough to wear kid’s clothes that I can pick up at department stores.

We finally got the form for the money. It arrived at work last night, Tom said in his memo to me, so he’ll be getting up at noon, then we’ll take off for Casa Grande.

We moved the fish yesterday from the den to the living room. It looks much better there. The top’s easier to reach and there’s more light in that room.

We vacuumed about ¾ of the water out of the tank first. The vacuum’s really cool. There’s no motor or anything to it. It’s just a tube with a hose attached to it for siphoning the water.

We lost the third out of the four mollies. No more mollies, that’s for sure!

Tom and I were talking about Paula and her 60 days for assault. Assault’s less everywhere like he said, but that makes no sense. That totally makes no sense. That’d be like executing someone for stealing a candy bar and giving a year to a rapist. How much more backward can this system get?!

I think the best time to visit Mary will be at the end of next year when he’s on vacation.

I’ve been raiding one of the jokes sites so I can use all the pretty email pictures and designs for Tom and Dave. I even sent the jokes I got yesterday to Michelle, and of course, printed them out for Mary.

Tom’s going to call Mary from work to see if we’re still on for meeting at Harrah’s tomorrow and at what time.

It’s been colder. The heat even came on before midnight last night and didn’t stop till 10 AM.

Tom and I were talking about how cool it’d be to live in a submarine, but that’s definitely the “impossible dream.” I’d have a better chance of becoming president! At least we wouldn’t have to worry about storms and it’d be so neat watching the ocean life.

Later…

It’s quite dark out now for being the time that it is. It’s very cloudy and windy, like we may get a storm. It drizzled a bit earlier.

Anyway, I gave my signature, the form was notarized, then we went grocery shopping. We got a good variety of foods as we’re determined to enjoy ourselves before our diets! I’m making ribs right now. They’re short ribs that are basting in a beef Nominator I got in a pouch to go with it. I had to put something in with it or else it’d be drier than powder.

We also got colored goldfish crackers, ice cream, zucchini and mozzarella bites, and other things. Pecan coffee and even some catfish for me to grill. I also got what’s called stuffed focaccia. It’s a pie-like thing of light Italian bread that’s stuffed with spinach, feta cheese and mushroom filling. Got cream of mushroom and cream of asparagus soup as well as peanut butter crunch cereal and hot chocolate which I occasionally like during the winter.

He mostly got his usual, since he doesn’t like the variety of foods I like; ice cream, hotdogs and potatoes. It’s a good thing the guy takes vitamins and minerals!

Got another cologne, so now I have 4 – musk, coconut, strawberry and peach.

He spoke to Mary. They’re basically going to hang out all day at the casino tomorrow (that’s how much money they have to spare!) and we’re going to join them around noon. I’ll probably get up around 9:30, then we’ll leave around 11:00, so we should see them before noon. Tom left for work a little while ago and he’ll be in around 2 AM. That way he can get sufficient sleep before we go to eat and lose money while we watch Mary win money she doesn’t really need.

Mary mentioned the many messages I hit Dave with. I asked Tom if she sounded like she was complaining, and he said her voice did sound as if to say that was a bit extreme, which I’ll admit is true, so I won’t overwhelm them again if it’s going to bother them.

Got a 10-page draft from Mary. God, the shit she’s taken from Derek alone is amazing! I’d have gotten a gun and shot him dead before I put up with him that long and let him get as far as he did with her. My fear would’ve turned to such rage that I wouldn’t have been able to prevent myself from killing him if I had wanted to. Guys like Derek and Justin are so lucky and they don’t even know it. That’s because it could’ve been a bitch like me that they crossed. Someone who wouldn’t give a damn if she had to go to jail for taking a nut like that out of society and ultimately sparing other women from becoming their victims, too.

It’s a cool and cloudy day out today.

A fucking dog woke me up at 6 AM, but I fell back asleep till the alarm went off at 8:00. I’m holding my schedule to mornings till we go to the casino, which I’ve decided to do, then to afternoons when I see Scot. There’ll be 10 days between Scot and the doctor’s appointment, so I’ll probably do a flip there. How I miss the days when I’d have just 10-15 appointments a year if even that!

Paula left a message saying she might be doing 60 days in Ludlow for hitting her boyfriend and would be in court today. See? You get just 60 days there for assault, yet 180 days here for words on paper! She might get more community service, though.

Anyway, I sent Paula a letter. Hopefully, her wonderful associates will give it to her when she gets out of jail if she does do time.

Got this really neat new thing called Incredimail. It lets you colorize your email, use graphics, sounds, animations, etc. You can even record your voice if you want.

Thanksgiving will mark 16 weeks since Scot has shown up. I really hope to beat that record and that he doesn’t get visit-happy on me early in the New Year. I doubt he will, but you never know. It’s not in his hands. He has virtually no power over his clients (his not being able to get the courts to allow me to get on with my life should tell you that). He basically has to do what the courts tell him to do. Tom even thinks he gets a daily list as far as who to drug test and when, and that he pretty much doesn’t get to call the shots with that.

It just really bothers me that the courts have refused to acknowledge my efforts. I got a therapist before sentencing day, I had no write-ups in jail, I had no problems on the outs, yet none of it matters. No one gives a damn. Instead, everything’s what she wants while I’ve been treated like an object with no feelings that can be pushed around and used and abused at will, and in a sense, I’m a sucker for it. I mean, if you don’t want to go to jail or be on probation, don’t go to court. I could’ve ignored the damn freeloaders! They weren’t just a few feet away from us back in 2000. We should’ve paid Sharon off and been done with it. As much as Arizona loves to make a big stink out of nothing, I highly doubt they’d have come after us because I wouldn’t have been convicted and it’s not like I was wanted for murder.

It seems I spent most of my 20s worried I’d go insane due to depression. In my 30s I worry I’ll snap due to anger as the years of being abused by various people in various ways takes its toll on me. This is why I’m increasingly worried about what I may do when the next person comes to shove me around, make threats, etc.

Anyway, using my vibes to guide him, he found the problem with the phone which was causing our problems online. There was a faulty wire in the jack in the den, but since we’re going to go cellular once we upgrade the satellite, we’re not going to bother fixing it.

He found and fixed the latest car problem. It was a leak that he epoxied.

He says the reason they’ve got their hot water tank out in their yard is cuz it’s old and they’re no doubt hoping to sell it for scrap.

Last night I heard music for a few hours that I thought was coming from one of the rentals at first. Then, when I was in the kitchen, I suddenly realized I was hearing voices, and was like, what the hell?! So I opened a window and then I realized I was hearing a live band off in the distance. I could tell by the way there was talking over the music, though I couldn’t make out what was said. We’ve heard this before too, like two years ago.

I got an email from Michelle, Todd’s mom, thanking me for helping her and Mary correspond and for the jokes. She said she hates Mike Tyson (so do I!) and liked the joke pertaining to him. Also, she hopes she’s been of help to Mary and that she’s doing well, considering. I assured her Mary was quite appreciative of her.

She also enclosed a joke, and I’ll enclose that and her message in my next letter to Mary.

I’ve heard shots off in the distance this weekend. I wonder why they started up again. Usually, they start and keep going right up till they quit for the year.

I decided to drop one of the Ashton ballerinas for that 36” vinyl Chris doll kit that’s comparable in price.

I’m also going to get a 1-year membership for Webshots so I can have unlimited photo albums that’ll hold up to 60 photos per album, rather than 10 albums that only holds 24. The membership costs $20. This way I can also download as many pictures per day as I want.

I was able to tell what albums all the downloads came from as I was deleting albums, figuring I’d update them once I was a member which I’ll be when we get the 2-way satellite. A total of 42 doll pictures were downloaded. Wow! So, I left them on since they’re so popular. I got rid of the land, wildlife and pet pictures, though.

Little Fella got his first taste of ice cream today. He also came out and wandered around a bit, though he didn’t venture far. It’s still new to him and so he’s a bit nervous.

Later…

Tom says that the state has recognized my efforts and that’s why I got 3 years with only 6 months in jail, versus 3 years in prison with many more years of probation.

“That would’ve only been if I’d gone to trial and lost,” I told him, but even so, what I’ve gotten is far from good enough. Especially when no one should be punished in the first place over words on paper, and certainly not words to an adult. She had a choice as to whether or not she read anything I sent. No one held her at gunpoint and made her do so. The adult thing to do, had she not liked what she was reading, would’ve been to throw it out and move on.

What if I had been pregnant? To think that the state could and would take a mother away from a child, and cheat a woman out of the first few months/years of that child’s life over such petty nonsense, makes me utterly sick to my stomach!

He went to Circle K to test-drive the car, which is apparently holding up. While there, he picked us each up a pint of Haagen Dazs ice cream which sucks. At least the chocolate chip cookie dough kind does, cuz it’s all dough and no ice cream.

In case I didn’t already say so, I have a vibe on a goldish mid-70s pickup in mid-December.

We’ve been having major internet problems for the last few days. His computer, which is the host, keeps falling offline, and my computer keeps going blind to the net. We’ve also got static hissing like hell on our phone line, too. Why must God always pick on our stuff? Can’t we go one solid month without any problems? Things just seem to break on us for no apparent reason whatsoever. And everything has to happen at once, too.

With the way God’s damned this house and punished us for moving, it makes me wonder what he’d do if we ever moved again. It’s a scary thought! I know I can’t stay in this state forever, though. Anyplace that can put someone in jail over a letter simply because the so-called victim’s black while you’re Jewish, tells me that there’s no limit to how far they’ll go. Once people get carried away, it seems there’s no end to it and to stay in a state that could do that to people just doesn’t sit right with me.

Anyway, before I got sick of playing net games, I was astounded to find there have been 50 downloads from my albums!

Later…

Now the car’s been cursed, too! Aaarrrggghhh!!! It never ends! He thinks the thermostat seized up, restricting the flow of water through the engine. He’s out making a diagnosis now. On his way home the car overheated. He also says that the static on the phone is probably what’s causing the net problems.

I just wish we didn’t have to spend so much time and money fixing things!

Yesterday, as we were heading into the grocery store, I caught a quick glimpse of my reflection in the window and was appalled at what I saw. I not only look fat now, but I look hideous, too. Totally geeky! I’m short, stout, and bow-legged in every sense of the word. I really do look ridiculous, but that’s okay cuz all this fat’s going away soon enough. By March I fully intend to be thin again. God and the state may be able to control my life/body in many ways, but they cannot control my weight. Anytime I feel like giving up, I’ll remember that horrid image I saw. Before I was just chunky, but now I’m graduating from chunky to fat. I blame no one but myself, though. I’m the one who’s been eating like a little pig throughout the last year or so.

If I had been dumb enough to have an ounce of hope for early release – well – just the fact that it’s been 3 weeks since Scot recommended I be let go and we haven’t heard from them, would be enough to tell me it’s a lost cause.

I wonder if Scot will try again in 6 months. Maybe he will if only as an excuse to refer to the fucking bitch as a “victim” which he knows makes my blood boil. It’s like he gets off on pissing me about that.

I emailed Playboy, asking if they knew anything about a fourth doll being released and when, but they said they didn’t know anything about it.

I decided - and I’m not going to let Tom talk me out of it - to give PG something they deserve more than being turned in to the BBB and something I deserve as well. I’m going to let him play games with them for another month or two, then regardless of the outcome and whether we get the doll, our money back, or neither, I’m going to help myself to $100 worth of dolls that we’re not going to pay for. I’m going to order a few dolls in a bogus name and have them sent directly to the house by UPS, telling them to enclose bills with the dolls, and either they get here or they don’t. I’m not going to be calling them to ask where the dolls are that I plan to rip off after all the hassles they’ve put us through over the last year chasing this doll, chasing that doll and now getting ripped off. I thought about taking a few hundred dollars of dolls, but I don’t need to get that carried away. They’ll be losing more than $20, though.

Tom will try to talk me out of it, of course, but I’ve made up my mind. I rarely get to make my own decisions in life and I’m not backing out of this one. This isn’t something that could land us in jail, nor could it come back to haunt us if we used our real name, though I won’t. We skipped out on the camcorder which we got in our name, yet it didn’t stop us from taking out loans and buying this land/house, so I’m sure it won’t cause problems in the future. It’s only dolls anyway. Maybe I’ll use the name Rachel Johnson!

We’ve been having trouble finding cheap pedals, but that’s okay, cuz I’m back to thinking our best bet might be to get a whole bike. After thinking about it, I decided I probably couldn’t pedal while using the computer as my knees would hit the underside of the desk. I wouldn’t be able to work comfortably if I sat back either. Another thing is that if I used the pedals in the den, I’d have to sit up towards the edge of those huge couches/chair unless I put a pillow or something behind me which might be a pain in the ass. If I get a bike, I could at least read or watch TV while I used it, and I know I’d be more comfortable. It might mean having to give up a doll to get it, but it’d be a worthy trade-off.

Later…

I just finished some housecleaning and now we’re just coming up to prime freeloader time. I’m lying low and quiet now. No open windows, no music, etc. This way I get my long-awaited chance to say no should Scot show up. Although I highly doubt he will, that’s what I would’ve said if someone suggested he may return just two weeks later after having gone a few months without coming here, so you never do know.

Tom won’t be in till 2:00. Of course, with my shit luck, Scot could end up stopping by at 2:30.

Later…

Amazingly, Tom didn’t put up a fight about my plans to rip PG off. All he said was, “Yeah, but this is our address.”

So was the address we had in Phoenix when we were stealing a lot of stuff and using lots of bogus names with a regular mailman involved. This, however, will be UPS, and we won’t be doing this very often. I just think I deserve a little treat on the way out from dealing with these very frustrating people. Hopefully, they’ll bill without credit cards. I’m pretty sure they will. They’re stupid when it comes to money. They’ve shipped dolls before taking money, and also, they did send bill payments on Mei Lin. This is a company that has plenty of money to spare. What I’m going to take them for will essentially be nothing more than a drop in the bucket. With their prices being as low as they are, they no doubt have a huge customer list. That’s probably part of why they’re so incompetent; too many people to deal with. Ashton’s different, though. Although they’re better known, they wouldn’t have the customer volume PG would have because most people can’t afford to be spending $80 - $150 on dolls, so they couldn’t afford to be ripped off like PG. With Ashton, you must either give a credit card number or send a check for the full amount of what you want.

He also agreed, to my surprise, to dump any babies the crazy bitches may have if Little Fella knocks them up, which he may very well have done by the way he was acting. I just wanted to get them all in the big cage so I could be done with ever having to handle them again. Tom moved them by coaxing them into a tube. We almost lost one of them, though, when she jumped out. Luckily, it was the Rat Runner and I got her by the tail. Perhaps they’ll die sooner if they keep having litter after litter after litter!

I’ll admit it’s cute watching them play. I think Little Fella will appreciate having young energetic rats to play with, whereas Little Buddy’s just too old. He gets winded pretty fast.

Fortunately, Little Buddy’s tumor doesn’t seem malignant and is not growing. One of the mice, though, has a tumor bigger than her poor little head!

I forgot to mention that 4 or 5 days ago, an ATV woke me up at dusk, but I fell back asleep. Those things are loud! Like motorcycle loud.

Later…

We went to the PO to see if the form was there. True to vibed, it wasn’t. Deciding to go to Casa Grande while it was still a weekday and a little less crowded, we picked up a few treats at Circle K, then headed over.

Tom asked if I sensed the form being at work tonight (he wasn’t sure if they were going to send it to him at work or to the PO), but no, I don’t sense anything.

On our way out, we drove by the rentals. The thing that I thought was a sign is really a small hot water tank. Why it’s in the middle of their front yard, beats me. They don’t have as much stuff out front as I thought they did. The furthest rental is now occupied and there are definitely kids there, judging by the toys I saw out front. Only the middle one is well-kept. The others are trashy. The furthest one looks the dumpiest. Could be freeloaders living in it. I guess they’ve been quiet, though, cuz I haven’t heard any new sounds like loud music all of a sudden or anything like that. I didn’t even know anyone was there till we drove by.

In Casa Grande, we stopped at the grocery store for a few things. I needed vitamins and we were low on toilet paper and water. I got a small bottle of coconut cologne too, so now I have peach, musk, sunflowers, and coconut. Anything but freesia or turquoise seas! Those are way too potent.

We went to a car parts store for a new radiator hose where we got new clips to get the seatbelt off my neck and a vanilla air freshener tree that dangles from the mirror.

Lastly, we returned to Pick-a-Pet. We got an aquarium vacuum and a couple of adorably cute little dwarf frogs. We also got a couple of angelfish. They’re even bigger than the bettas and mollies (we lost a mollie today) and are really nice-looking. The frogs are brown with little black dots and the angelfish are silver with black stripes. I really like them both a lot and I hope they live.

Tom went to work last night around midnight to interview 4 potential people to replace someone who quit. If all goes well, he got the pension form last night and we’ll be going to Casa Grande to get it notarized so we can get the ball going on getting the money. As his wife, my signature will be needed.

I usually prefer hot baths over showers in the winter, so I’m waiting for the giant tub to fill right now.

Today, we’re also going to get on PG’s ass. If they don’t send the doll or refund our money, I’m going to report them to the San Diego BBB. I don’t see how that could get me thrown in jail. However, I’m not going to let them know what color I am when filling out their forms. Some forms ask you your age, gender and race. I’m not going to fill out the race part because A, it shouldn’t matter, and B, you never know if it could be used against you. I’ve never known Chinese people, which seems to be mostly what PG employs, to cry racism the way other groups do, but it’s not worth taking chances over. We’re living in an ultra-sensitive world these days and a $20 doll simply isn’t worth risking any trouble coming to us because someone may get the wrong idea or use crutches for spite. As it is, I’m relatively sure that spite was the reason they lied about ever shipping the doll in the first place. I complained, so they ripped us off. Since they obviously refuse to send the doll, now we’ll either coax our money back from them or BBB their asses. If not so much for me then perhaps it’ll help others if they see that they can’t rip people off simply cuz they complain about their service.

Later…

God knows what they keep working on back there at the renter’s, but they’re working on something right now.

Anyway, we got in not too long ago with Little Fella, our new brown rat! I thought “Little Fella” would go well with “Little Buddy.” He’s about 3 or 4 months old, darker than Houdini, but lighter than Scuttles. I’ll get some pictures taken soon enough.

We went to Pick-a-Pet in Casa Grande. They had an excellent selection of rodents and fish, but we didn’t see any fish that interested us. We did get another colored bulb for their tank, though. We had red and pink, and I wanted more contrasting colors, so we got a green bulb to replace the red one.

Anyway, they had some rats with some pretty cool markings, but they were ladies and definitely pregnant since both sexes were mixed in. Spastic or not, we don’t need a dozen or more rats. Four’s enough, and as it is, two of them I dislike and don’t want. Besides, I like traditional brown rats. Far-out-looking rats are nice, but I like having rats that look like regular rats, too.

They had some hairless rats that were hideous.

After choosing a brown male, we both handled him to get a sense of whether or not he might be vicious or too skittish like Lady and her mistakes, but he seems pretty mellow. Kind of average, actually. He did screech at me when I first opened the box he was transported in, but he quickly calmed down enough to let himself be handled. He’s somewhat shy still, but that’s to be expected when you just left the only place you’ve ever known just to be brought to a strange place.

He’s been exploring his new house and Little Buddy’s been acting like nothing new is going on. The bitches will have to stay tanked for quite a while, as I don’t need them getting knocked up. That’s the last thing I need, though, they are getting close to when they’ll be unable to conceive. They start losing their fertility at 8 months, but with my shit luck, these things will be as fertile as a Mexican till the day they die.

I thought about it and realized that Tom’s right when he says some people can be more fertile than others. If a person loses an ovary to cancer, then they’re not as fertile. Mexicans, on the other hand, breed like rabbits. I wonder if they drop more than one egg a month.

We went out just to go out. The form hasn’t arrived yet, so we’re planning on going out for that Friday. We can’t tomorrow, cuz he has special meetings to attend during the daytime tomorrow. (which means no cheeks for sure)

After the pet store, since it’s not really hot, we left Little Fella in the car to do grocery shopping. I got a shiny-covered notebook with different colored pages for the Laughlin trip and some scented cartridges. Every now and then I get them, but to save money, I don’t get them regularly. Besides, they’re not as special if you get them regularly because you get too used to them. I got Country Garden, vanilla and Tropical Mist. I like strawberry too, but for some reason, they never seem to have that one.

I also got one of those $15 12” sitting musical dolls. Not because the doll was nice. The blue-eyed, auburn-haired Cindy’s boring, but her dress is awesome. It’s cream-colored with flecks of gold. If I ever have a doll that I really like who’ll fit into it, I’ll cut it off of this doll the way I did with some of the other musicals I had.

I’m indulging in mint candies covered with milk chocolate now since I’m going to be one hungry girl in just over a month! I’m going to stop dieting on March 1st, no matter what my weight is at that time, which should be between 105-110. I have too much muscle to get as low as 100.

Next Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, Tom’s meeting with Mom, Mary and Dave for lunch at Harrah’s casino and asked if I wanted to go. I do, but as always, the freeloaders must take precedence over everything. In order to go and still be able to serve them, I’d have to hold my schedule for two weeks and that’d be a little tough on me. Besides, as fun as it sounds, why go just to lose money and gag on cigarette smoke? We’re going to be doing that soon enough in Laughlin. He says, though, that they’re just going to have lunch, but I know them. There’s no way they wouldn’t gamble at least a little bit. Especially Mary and Dave.

PG’s latest excuse is pitiful. Getting more ridiculous by the minute. Now they’re saying they shipped the damn doll to the town of Mirana, which is also in Arizona. Oh, and now the doll’s back-ordered, too. This is such fucking bullshit (I suppose this is partly my punishment for getting the extra discounts/savings I wasn’t supposed to have)! I know they never shipped us the doll, I know they never will, so why don’t we just get our money back? For nearly two months now we’ve been fighting to get this doll! This is ridiculous! Mr. Optimist here, who never sees when people are full of shit, says they obviously shipped the doll to our PO Box number in Mirana and whoever got the doll kept it. No way. They know we live in Maricopa. They have this information on the computer. I know they’re just playing with us. First they claimed they shipped the doll on the 18th to Tempe. Then Tom specifically asked them if it was sent to Maricopa when he called the second time about it, and he said they said it was, but that it wasn’t shipped yet. Now, we’re back to it being shipped on the 18th to a whole ‘nother town, and now it’s back-ordered too, to an unknown date. How convenient. I mean, this is the first time they didn’t know when a doll was back-ordered. But that’s because the doll’s not back-ordered and it’s not coming to us. (this was a special get-rid-of-the-leftovers deal) Not to Tempe, not to Maricopa and not to Mirana. I’m just glad that if they had to rip us off this time around they only took us for $20 and not more. I’m definitely going to report them to the BBB after Tom plays email with them some more, then we’ll be done with them for good. I always like Ashton dolls better, and I’d rather get nicer dolls, even if it means not being able to afford to get them as often. At least they’re trustworthy.

The weather’s absolutely gorgeous now in the mid to upper 70s. I have some windows open. I try to take advantage of any time I can get fresh air in here, since it’s usually too hot or too cold, if it doesn’t smell like horse shit.

I wish it’d rain to put some moisture into this unbelievably dry air, but it seems each year gets drier and drier. During Tom’s December vacation, we’ll put the weather stripping on the front door so that when it does rain, it shouldn’t leak. He’ll also get under the house, tighten up the jacks, find and seal up the vent hole, and hope he doesn’t get stung by scorpions in the process.

The dogs are fucking with the pipes again. There was a big black dog and a big brown one. I’ve seen them before. They ran off when I went out, then I brought the pipe back that they had dragged a good 50 or so feet from the wash.

Like he usually does when it comes to me feeling pressured to keep animals I don’t want, Tom convinced me to let us keep Little Ratsy. He said the decision was mine and that he wasn’t making me do anything either way, which is true, but it’s hard to say no to a loved one. I’ve got her equally nutty sister in with her in the tank. If it weren’t for us bombing periodically, I could keep them in the big cage and never have to move them. I don’t need to move them in order to clean the cage or replace tubes. But they do have to be moved and tanked when we bomb. We can’t fit the big cage in the car, but if we could just get that damn truck before we bomb again, then I could throw them all together in the big cage and never have to touch them. Little Ratsy simply cannot be handled. I know she’d bite me if I tried to pick her up. The other one would’ve bitten me when I moved her by her tail if she weren’t so fat and heavy, but it’d be no problem for Little Ratsy, if I got her by the tail, to spring up and get me.

Maybe we can keep them outside in the shade. Tom and I will have to explore our various options. I just dread the idea of him trying to move them when changing the tank. We’ll never get her back again if Little Ratsy escapes. Maybe we should get an animal trap anyway.

I asked Tom how people could use racial slurs in some of the online jokes if it were so illegal, and he explained to me that it’s a certain combination of words that are censored, rather than one word. If you use racial slurs with the word ‘law’, he told me, it may trigger a flag, cuz usually it’s criminals who are concerned with laws, and something like that attached to the word law could catch attention.

If that’s the case and that’s what happened, then that’s pretty stereotypical if you ask me. Perhaps some people just like to know what the laws are. I know I wish I knew the laws a lot sooner than I did! Had I known blacks were held in such high regard in the eyes of the law and that Jews were damned, I’d have handled things a lot differently. I think Tom knew they were hard on Jews, but not that blacks were looked upon as such sacred beings.

I totally believe it when Scot said the bitch would only pitch a fit if I got an early release. I wish I could pitch a fit and get my way. If only it were that simple for me. Instead, everything’s what she wants and to hell with me. She knows it, too. She knows that all she has to do is take a shit fit and the courts will kiss her black ass and give her what she wants.

There were 4 pictures downloaded from my albums last week. Two rats, one wildlife and one of our land.

The renters have what appears to be some sort of sign out front. I can’t say for sure that that’s what it is, but we’ll definitely have to drive by there sometime. It’s been a while. How I hope they stay put! It’s always the quiet neighbors that up and move, though the new people in Dan’s place certainly are quieter. They blast their music just like Dan did, but not quite as loud, and they certainly don’t sit and gun engines for hours at a time, so in that case, things worked out for the better.

Now for some weird shit that’s been going on around here. Late in the night a couple of nights ago, like around 2 AM, I heard a quick pop. It wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t soft either. I was in the kitchen when I heard it. I thought it sounded like something hit a window, but more so, I thought something in his office fell. I went in to see if something fell against the window, but didn’t see anything. Then this morning Tom told me he discovered that the window was cracked from one side to the other! It was just the inner pane, though, which rules out something hitting it from outside.

“And God said ‘damn this house and the people in it,’” I said.

“Huh?” Tom asked me.

“You figure it out. Look at all the shit this house and us have gone through since we’ve been here. Do I have to remind you how I told you all along we’d be punished for leaving the city? God had us right where he wanted us and we moved. We’re seen as rebellious in his eyes, and now this is just one more thing we have to spend time and money fixing.”

Tom thought of a few possibilities as to what could’ve broken the window. He said there could’ve been a flaw in it which weakened it, then broke on account of a sonic boom.

“No,” I told him. “It would’ve cracked as soon as the boom erupted. There wouldn’t be a delay. Besides, it was the middle of the night.”

This is when he told me that not too long ago in the middle of the night, he heard a very loud, distinct boom that shook the whole house.

“But why didn’t it wake me up and why would they be flying at that hour?”

He said he didn’t know; perhaps it was an emergency of some kind, but I just think it odd that it didn’t wake me as I’m the lightest sleeper in the world. I have been hearing weird sounds around here lately, though I can’t say what they are. Sometimes I think they’re car doors, other times distant stereos, or some kind of machinery/large vehicles. There is something that’s at least somewhat evil here on this land. The question is how much of it is connected to our moving punishment, and how much is something else? Something we don’t even know about. Like a poltergeist. This is classic paranormal activity, I told Tom, who offered yet two more theories.

“Perhaps it was either temperature changes or my not latching the window properly which could’ve put pressure on it.”

“No, there are places with more extreme temperature changes than this yet the windows don’t break. Especially just one of them. I don’t think latching windows in certain ways could do it either. That’s a strong metal casing that thing’s in. It’s made to withstand a lot more pressure than any latch could put on it. I don’t have the answer for sure, but I think it was either a curse or a ghost. It’s high time you called Palm Harbor, too. We’ve let too many of their fuck-ups slide. I’m sick of picking up where they left off and having to do their work for them. The house is warranted for 5 years. Let them pay for the damn window and at least tell them about the shower too, along with other problems we’ve had.”

We should be receiving the pension money at the end of the month and hopefully getting a truck right around then too, but it’ll probably be more like early December. Tom’s now actively looking at ads. He got a couple of potential candidates off the bulletin board at the PO.

If all goes well, I’m going to be getting a slew of dolls with this and my holiday money. There are 2 ballerinas and 3 Indian dolls I want, plus the ornaments. I’m tempted to cancel out any Playboy or fashion dolls, cuz I don’t want to be ordering from people I don’t know. I know Ashton’s reliable, but I don’t know about other places. I wanted to get the third Playboy doll in the series, Mei Li (that oriental doll), and then black Adele to replace Tasha, but I don’t know. Tom suggested getting them from places that use UPS if possible, but that wouldn’t necessarily guarantee that they won’t rip us off. PG ripped us off and so did the sewing people. We got the big sewing machine, but not the little hand-held one.

Got a couple of letters from Mary. She had me cracking up when I read about the typo I made in her affirmations. Otherwise, I was glad to hear I did a good job with them. I wasn’t sure. I’m not used to typing up things like this. It was different than the usual drafts. Anyway, I was supposed to type, “You can’t depend on the ‘therapist’ to make you happy, but instead I wrote, “You can’t depend on the ‘rapist’ to make you happy. Then she made a little write-o I got a kick out of. She said she’d be clearer when writing ‘comas’ and periods, rather than ‘commas’.

She said she might’ve killed herself if it weren’t for me, but as I told her, she’s much stronger than that. Still, it’s quite touching to know I’ve had that much of a positive impact on her.

Todd, the pond scum, didn’t even know his little whore that just moved in with him wrote to Mary. He wanted to keep it a secret, the little shit! How low of him and his slut! It must make Mary as mad as it does sad.

Anyway, I was glad to hear she won’t be standing trial for Gretchen as far as she knows. She shouldn’t, or else the wrong person would be on trial. I just hope they don’t pull any nasty surprises on her in either case. The merciless system’s so full of them!

I emailed my entire joke file to Michelle as she asked me to, as well as another letter.

Lastly, I stressed to her just what she means to me. It’s so cool, for example, to be able to share things like my doll collecting and have her be all into it with me by commenting on their pictures, etc. I’ve had pen pals in the past who never mentioned the things I’d mention as if they just didn’t care. She may never like dolls like I do, but still, she at least gives me her feedback and accepts me as I am. She never bitches at me for being repetitious, even if I sometimes am!

Oh, how I wish this state would let me get on with my life and off probation! Again I wonder if perhaps I should let myself off.

Have I prayed to God for the courts to do right by letting me go? Of course not. I try not to do things just to waste my time. I wonder, though, does he have my new problem picked out yet? Does he know yet what my next long-term problem’s gonna be? I would think he does. Especially if it’s true that he’s got our entire lives mapped out from day one. Since I don’t have what it takes to pray to God, perhaps Mary can pray that he takes my health. If he absolutely must do something, I’ll sacrifice my health at this point. No more being victimized by others where he knows I can’t fight back or do a damn thing about it. At least there’ll be no one else to blame if I were to have health problems. As long as it’s nothing too serious or too painful, I’ll take it over neighbors picking on me. If he does sic new neighbors on me, though, they won’t be picking on me from just a few feet! However, once they take it to the courts, it won’t matter.

It won’t happen, though. I won’t let it. I’ll either sit back and take their shit or we’ll move. I am not going to jail again for trying to take a stand for myself, trying to get others to back off, leave me alone and do the right thing. It’s like, they fuck me over, I fight back, and I’m the one to go down for it. Well, fuck that shit! It’ll never happen again. They can use me, they can abuse me, but they’re not going to have their way with me through the law. I’m not going back to jail to play musical cellies, half of them being rude, the other half insane. I’m not going to take cold showers, eat hotdogs, put up with noise beyond belief, get just a few hours of sleep a day, then possibly be led on again, however unintentionally it may be, by someone I may have a crush on. At least Palma was honest and came out and said “no” when I asked if we could get together.

There’s been no activity across the street at all. Tom said the guy said he was thinking about buying the property there, not that he actually did buy it.

I’m sure, especially since the temperature’s dropped, that the renters will be bustling about like crazy this weekend. It’s gotten much cooler. The heat came on just after midnight instead of close to dawn. I’m just glad they’re more than a few feet away! I’ll feel even better, though, once there’s a fence between them and us, and even more so if we could ever block them out of sight with bougainvilleas, oleanders or something. He says we’ll plant something in the spring, but we’ll see. After all, that’s what he said we’d do last spring.

Got massive updating to do. I was too tired to do it yesterday and too busy the day before that.

I have a quick clip to type up for Mary, but first I want to do some work for myself. She’s going to drive me crazy with all these changes she’s been asking me to make lately! As I told her, let’s finish the beginning before we get to the end. It’s too soon to be worrying about name changes, order, dedications and things like that. We need to get the story written first. Hopefully, she’ll be free by the time that’s done so she can do the organization part of it herself. This is because no one knows better than her, since it’s her story, what the order should be. I changed Todd’s name to Gailyn like she asked me to, but that’s all I’m going to do as far as name changing or else I’ll be even more confused than I already am. I don’t even get this latest change she wants me to make. Something about putting Justin where I think he belongs, and how she called him “friend” or “guy” in the clip where they met, which was apparently through her brother, but I don’t remember her calling him that. The way she wrote it, he introduced himself as Justin from the get-go and she never referred to him as “friend” or “guy.”

The sick fuck acted all concerned over Derek’s abusing her. Meanwhile, the hypocrite was really a carbon copy of Derek many times over. From what Mary’s told me and written, Justin makes Derek seem like a regular little Boy Scout and Derek was plenty bad enough. Enough so that I don’t see how the hell she could write to, talk to or see this sick puppy, let alone let him near Murphy. The guy’s a pervert. Poor Mary had to be embarrassed by his being the neighborhood stripper at one point, jerking off in front of teenagers and all that. I wish we women could be so in love with our bodies the way guys are with theirs! That takes a lot of guts and self-confidence to run around in public naked. Most of us women certainly wouldn’t carry on like that since we’re not the sluts most guys are, but if only we could see ourselves the way guys see themselves. Most guys think they are fine, just fine.

She had also sent me tons of drafts I sent her, explaining how she wanted them organized, but I just didn’t get it. All I could manage to do was to make any omissions/additions she wanted, but that was about it. At least she’s numbering drafts in numerical order so that if two envelopes containing drafts reach me on the same day, I’ll know which comes first. Part of the reason the order made no sense is that we had made some changes after I sent her the drafts she just sent me. So what I did was reprint/send everything I’ve got as it is with the new changes/additions. Then I told her to circle the parts and organize them in numerical order, writing the number inside the left side of each circle. I did some samples for her after I printed out my letter to her. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll just have to wait till she’s free so she can organize it herself. I will teach her the basics of how the word processor works. If I can make sense of the order this time around, though, then I’ll print/send them again, since ink’s no longer an issue. From here on out, though, I hope she’ll be as orderly as she can so we don’t have to do this again!

Other than that, she sent a second letter to Michelle, saying it’s faster that way. Michelle had asked who Feisty Dawn was, so I told her I was Mary’s friend Jodi who was helping her with her book. She’s had to deal with the stench of bleach, which I sure as hell don’t miss, and security overrides. She sent me her aunt’s number and address, but as it turns out, I already have the number. I added her address so I can mail Mary’s disk to her once it’s full.

Mary said she’ll give Teddy Bear my letter to her if she sees her. Yes, I know she will, and I appreciate it, but I’d still bet my favorite dolls on her not seeing her. I think I know the answers, after all, as to why she blew me off. I think she did mean what she said at the time she said it, but after I was gone and she had time to reflect on things, she decided I was too far away and too married to bother with. In other words, she may not have loved me the way I came to love her, but there were definitely enough feelings there on her part. Perhaps if there weren’t, then my being out here and being married wouldn’t have mattered as much. She might’ve also met someone too, along the way, on top of her realizing her feelings were strong enough to stop her from seeing me, in light of the circumstances. Next life, Teddy Bear, next life. Meanwhile, I still think it may all be for the better that we didn’t meet. I mean, what if we’d both fallen so utterly in love and lust? What if I’d left Tom? What if she decided to up and dump me on the streets a year later?

Mary also said she got “Barbie’s” pictures, but as I told her, that ain’t Barbie. I got a kick out of how she said she makes her jealous and makes her want to have surgery, cuz if she feels that way in her 20s, imagine how she’ll feel in her overweight 30s! You just have no concept of this at that age. When you can pretty much eat all you want and not gain weight, you can’t imagine one day waking up and gaining weight from just looking at food!

Although it was a bit premature, Mary gave me a note to Gretchen to head the book with. It was so beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes. I don’t know if this book will ever get published since writing is such a competitive field (one would have a better chance of getting a record contract, I’d think). Still, it’s really neat to be a part of this.

First PG was incompetent and now they’re ripping us off. As I knew would be the case, I never got the doll. Once again, I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I know this is all because of my complaining to them about their constant problems. (as always, people can fuck me over for complaining, but I could never fuck them over if I wanted to) I know they never shipped the doll, too. The question is whether or not we’ll be able to get our money back, but I certainly won’t hold my breath.

When I emailed Tom about what I could find out after researching freedom of speech laws, the mail was returned to me. First it said there was an error in sending it, then, as Tom pointed out, it said “banned subject.” My first thought was, oh my God. You mean the government’s going to tell me what I can/can’t say in my email, too? Yet when I forwarded the returned message to Tom, it went through. Then I did a test, using a certain word, and sent it to myself. It went through without a problem. I don’t know if that’s only because it was to myself or not. Tom was lecturing me about it later, saying now that I’ve been flagged they’re going to watch me, and now they’re building a case against me cuz now they want to get me.

Well, they can build all the cases they want, but sorry, they just can’t “get” me. Never again will I allow myself to be controlled and abused by this system again. I think Tom’s just being paranoid, though. Believe it or not, he can be much more paranoid than I can be. If he were right, though, it would be all about control and money, like most cases are. People will do anything to make a buck, and we do live in a state that values freeloaders as if they were some kind of sacred God, and we do have very strict laws protecting them. They’re chock full of rights and privileges we whities never had. Not even a century ago did we have such protection. When blacks accuse whites of something these days, they at least check it out. Now, though, when it’s the other way around, blacks are automatically believed. It’s like they’re spoiled.

Anyway, I was bitching to Tom again about society’s control freaks and he was insisting that it’s not a case of control if another avenue is available. In other words, if he blocked me from walking through one doorway, it’s not control if there’s another doorway available. I hear his point, but I don’t know if I agree with it. I still feel I’ve been pretty controlled throughout the bulk of my life.

He says that the Supreme Court has decided that violence is connected to those who use racial slurs, but I totally, totally disagree. Where’s the connection in my case? My journal’s full of slurs (though later deleted), so where’s the violence in my case? That’s like saying that those who swear are druggies or that all gays have AIDS.

I’m still glad I got the coffee bean grinder. My coffee still tastes like newly bought ground coffee.

I’m also glad I haven’t had any stomach problems lately. I think either the yogurt, the beef stew, or both, had something to do with the problems I was having.

I did something really cool with some old calendar pictures. I slipped them under the clear plastic under my office chair. It looks neat.

I might not get Felicity in January since we’re going to be getting a kiln. There are about half a dozen Ashton dolls I’d like to gather up over the next year or so. During the year, though, I’m sure they’ll have more that I will want.

Ugh! It’s that time of year again when my hair’s all full of static. It’s so incredibly dry! I wish it would rain like hell, but each year seems to get drier and drier. Especially out here.

Just when I thought the guppies had stopped dying, we lose one more. I think they’re all going to end up dead eventually, but like I said, we’ll just concentrate on mollies and glasses. There are only about 5 guppies left now.

I feel like I’m at a tug-of-war over the sleeping arrangements and sex. I don’t want to sleep together and I don’t want to screw, yet if he’s telling the truth about his wanting to do so, then it kind of puts me in a tough spot. Kind of makes me feel guilty. On the other hand, if this is a case of what goes around coming around, maybe I shouldn’t feel so guilty. Meaning, I wasn’t happy initially with our shit sex life and his apparent lack of interest in having a kid when I wanted that, so maybe it’s just a case of it being his time to suffer, though I don’t want him to. In fact, despite Helen’s literature, it seems so obvious, when I read back during those times, that he didn’t want a kid, and it was awfully naïve of me to have spurts where I thought he did and that God might let me choose what to do with my life. I’m sure he would’ve stuck around and been a good father if we had had an accident and I could’ve conceived, but it’s rather obvious that he was making one excuse after another. He always had a ready answer whenever I’d break down in tears from all the frustration and depression. Anything, so it seemed, to tide me over till my next bout of tears. He never wanted to help himself with making a kid. Instead, he wanted to help me help him get out of it.

Okay, time for my last two shocking subjects for this entry. First, I trapped Little Ratsy! It was a bitch to do, though, and it took me a while.

She’d obviously been getting lonely by the way she was trying more and more to bust through the grille and into the house when we were nearby. I was even feeding her potato chips through the grille yesterday. She was pretty hungry and once I saw her up close, I could see that she wasn’t very healthy-looking, after all, as scrawny as she is. She’s naturally small anyway, but even so, she doesn’t look like a Fancy rat at all size-wise. She’s the size of the wild rat she was born to be.

Anyway, she was trying to push through the retreat’s grille which isn’t screwed down. I lifted it up and she hopped right up. Then I shut the door and threw the grille back in its place. Then, after several minutes of using Raid as mace, since I knew grabbing her by the tail would be impossible and that that type of Raid kills bugs and not animals, I finally got her to run into a box which I uprighted instantly, then dumped her into the mice’s tank. The mice are in a smaller cage for now.

We thought about either dumping her by an abandoned trailer or on a farm and opted for the farm where there’d be more cover, seeds and water. This weekend, Tom will make the dump.

Yesterday I was so stressed out over reporting, never knowing what demand/change I might be in for. To add to it, the pressure to keep awake was on big time, cuz I had gotten up at 6 PM after just 6 hours of sleep, and of course, he doesn’t get to Maricopa till 8 AM. I didn’t get to sleep till noon today, and surprisingly, I got up at 8:30. I thought I’d sleep 10-11 hours. At least I have 3 whole weeks off from him and I doubt he’ll come to the house between now and then. He didn’t mention it, anyway.

I thought about Mary and how she said she gave her anguish over Todd to God. How can one do that?! How I wish I had the power and the control to dump my own stress and frustrations on him! I’d dump it on just about anyone if I could.

Although I disagree with most of the affirmations I typed up for Mary, there are some things I agree with. I, too, believe things happen for a reason. Teddy Bear happened obviously because she was a curse. A combination of teasing/punishment. Mary’s a blessing, however. She has been a good friend to me in every sense of the word. She accepts me as I am, doesn’t push her beliefs on me, is honest, compassionate, etc.

I simply can’t believe for an instant, though, that all we have to do is just ask and God will grant us our prayers. If that were true we’d all have everything we wanted. During my pre-report stress, I toyed with the idea of begging God to call these freeloaders off and to give me a break, but I knew all the pleading in the world would fall upon deaf ears. He wanted this for me. Why should he ease my stress when that’s why he sicced these sickos on me in the first place? If he didn’t want me to suffer, none of this shit would’ve happened, despite my making friends with Mary and all I’ve learned about jail, the system, etc. If it isn’t him that wants me to suffer, then something else does. Something that God doesn’t have the power to intercept. Still, I don’t know if I believe there’s both a God and a devil. For all I know, there may be just one big entity that’s both good and evil.

Anyway, I’m even willing to sacrifice my health to get these people off my back, and any others like them that may be lurking about in the future. Meaning that if I absolutely have to have one long-term problem after another, at least if I developed health problems, I would have no one to blame but God. I couldn’t blame myself, I couldn’t blame Tom, I couldn’t blame neighbors. I’m dead serious, too. I’ll be a sickly little thing if I’m doomed to suffer. I’ll take colds, flu, infections, whatever. As long as I don’t have to break any bones or undergo anything too painful. However, I just can’t bring myself to ask God to take my health as a replacement. Not just because I doubt he would, but because I simply can’t kiss the hand that slaps me.

What am I supposed to do, though? Abuse my own self a year from now? At least that way, if I must be abused, at least it could be by my own hand.

So now for my second shocker. I sat down next to Scot and he started off by saying, “You’ve done two years, right? I sent in your progress report and I told them you’ve done your community service, you’ve had your mental health screening, you’re up to date on your payments…” this is when I expected to hear that they still wanted me to take classes, but instead I got, “…and there’s really nothing more I can accomplish with you on probation, so I asked them to consider letting you go, although I highly doubt they will since the victim (oh, how it bothers me to hear her called that!) was very vocal about it and would probably pitch a fit if they went for an early release.”

Well, of course she would, and I know all about her vocal antics. I lived with it for 3 years, then one day it ended up at our door, so I’m sure she was quite vocal in the matter. All lies too, of course.

I know better, though, than to even think they’ll consider letting me get on with my life as much as I wish someone would look at the big picture and do the right thing. The big picture meaning guilty or not, racist or not, should anyone do 3 years for a letter?

However, I know they’ll just laugh at Scot’s recommendations and suggestions. They’re going to look at me, see my Jewish, white face, then see that the so-called poor, poor victim is black, and that’ll be all that’ll matter to these people. That and the loss of our $40 a month and me to control. All the black bitch will do if the subject of early release is brought up is cry racism, people will feel bad for them, and I’ll still have to suffer for another year. This is one of those few cases where the courts will side with a civilian over a law enforcement official. These sickos are the types of people who hold grudges forever. They’d have been elated had I gotten the death penalty. They’re spiteful, vindictive people who just don’t quit. They don’t give up, they don’t let go, they don’t move on, and they don’t forgive, not that there’s a damn thing to forgive me for since I didn’t do anything wrong.

God would never give me the satisfaction of getting out of this shit a year early and of knowing that she’d have to live with it, and it’s quite an understatement to say that that’d be the ultimate Christmas present. I just wish he’d at least stop protecting these people! And if the state can’t do the right thing, then couldn’t they at least consider dropping me to unsupervised probation where they still get their damn money but I don’t report or get bugged at home?

I’m both shocked and pleased that Scot cared enough to put in a good word for me, but it doesn’t do me much good when all the people who are on my side have no power to help me. Maybe he’ll at least not bother coming to the house more than once or twice more, if ever again. I highly doubt he’ll ever come as much as he did between last January - March at this point, but couldn’t he at least have a heart, bend his rules a bit, and drop me to just once a month? If this state simply can’t say, “Okay, enough’s enough. She’s paid more than dearly for such petty bullshit. Give the poor girl a break!” he should do something. Why does everything out here have to be so all or nothing? These people are just as extreme as they are sensitive!

I know there’s no point in hoping, wishing or praying, though. It’s totally hopeless. The fact alone that it’s already been two weeks with Scot not hearing anything in regards to the matter, tells me so. I know I’ve just got to grin and bear one more year of being victimized by the system in regard to this bullshit. I was barely 30 years old when it all began and will be nearly 38 when it’s finally over. That means that 80% of my 30s will be spent under various forms of control by the freeloaders.

They own me. Always with me, always with them.

As funny as it may sound, there may be some good in my not being allowed to seize my life from these people as that would infuriate the holy hell out of them. Oh, how pissed they’d be! They’d be beyond furious! It would make me wonder if the rage they would no doubt feel would inspire them to come out here. I know they know where we live. Besides, these people really truly believe in their hearts that they’re the true victims in this case. Either way, though, you don’t give whites breaks where non-whites are concerned without starting some serious rage. It might not spark city-wide riots, but it could cause enough harm to either us personally or our property. I’ve heard of plenty of “victims,” however real or imaginary they might’ve been, bitch about their perps being cut loose early, but unfortunately for me, the freeloaders will never have to worry about being one of the ones to have to bitch, too. If my complaining about their noise could piss them off as much as it did and cause them to do as much harm as they already have, there’s no saying how far they’d go over an early release. It could really drive them over the edge.

I’ll just have to try to look at the bright side of our impending trips to Casa Grande. As Tom pointed out, at least there are more stores around there, and maybe there’ll be times when Scot will just take my forms over the counter at the desk and let me go without dragging me back into his office for a chatting session.

He was a little chatty today, in his friendlier mood. I told him my New Year’s resolution was to lose 25 pounds. Then after he and Tom said they wanted to lose weight too, I said I’d see him next when I was 37. He said he’d be turning 37 before that, and after we left I gave Tom one of my I-told-you-so’s. I knew he was in his late 30s to early 40s and not the late 20s to early 30s.