I sent my last letter to Mary at Estrella last night. I checked to see if there was any new mention of Monster since his trial was supposed to be yesterday. Naturally, there wasn’t. Baby killers just don’t pique the public’s interest in this state the way supposed threatening racists do.

I was typing up a heart-wrenching yet beautiful poem Mary wrote about the pain she feels in losing Gretchen, and she is so totally right when she says that the more you love someone, the harder it is to lose them. I love Tom more than anyone I’ve ever loved or will love and I can’t imagine not killing myself if he were to die. I’d have nothing to live for. He is my life. All else is just an addition to it, some good, some bad, some neither.

She has been so cursed throughout her life. In a sense, much more so than I have. I hope something up there will give her a break with age as it has with me (with the exception of the freeloaders, of course).

Since I last mentioned spotting it, I’ve seen this untrappable mouse we’ve got living with us 3 more times. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that it won’t allow itself to be trapped. It’s just an unusually smart mouse. It’s not hurting anything that I know of, though, so I don’t mind it residing with us. I just wish I knew if it’s been in the house all along, or if it’s coming and going through any vent openings we may’ve missed. If there are any openings, and if that diamondback returns to living under and by the house once they’re active again, I doubt many mice will be going through there. I think that’s why we went so long without any coming up in here; because the rattler was scaring them off.

Anyway, I guess I just hadn’t been putting enough cheese in the trap to entice the mouse, but this time around I put a healthy pinch of cheese in it.

Just when I woke up and decided it’d be best not to take the laxatives we got in case it reacts on me while I’m suffering on account of the freeloaders tomorrow, I ended up shitting up a storm on my own. Perhaps tomorrow I will finally be back in the 120s and won’t wake up at 130 for the fifth day in a row. I’m still glad I got the laxative, cuz I know something’s going to fight me along the way and that I’m just going to turn right around and be stuck all over again. That’s how it worked the last time. When the Gods do give in to my wishes, they don’t necessarily make it easy for me. If I were regular, on the other hand, I’d have this weight off in no time. Guess later is still better than never.

The Dead Zone has returned, and I also have another new show I’ve been glued to ever since I first saw its premiere. It’s called Cirque du Soleil (circus of sun), the coolest circus I ever did see. That’s because it mainly consists of acrobatics. Things like trapeze artists and dancing gymnasts with astonishing flexibility. It’s incredible!

Although anything’s still possible over the next 4½ hours, I’m beginning to doubt the cheeks will show up due to the weather, along with the fact that he hasn’t said he’d “try to catch me at the house” like he used to almost always say, and the fact that he was talking as if he knew he wouldn’t see me till tomorrow. It’s both cloudy and windy, and I’ve never known him to come on days that weren’t clear and calm. If he doesn’t show up today, that still doesn’t mean he won’t show up at some point during this month. Like I said, if we got down to the last 6 months without visits/tests, then I’d think that was over, but it still seems pretty damn unlikely, no matter how much he may think testing or the whole probation thing, in general, is unnecessary.

Later…

The weather has improved since I last wrote. In fact, it’s gorgeous out. There are still some clouds, but not as many. It’s also gone from windy to breezy too, and I have the windows open to let some fresh air in which, fortunately, doesn’t smell like shit today. The wind’s blowing westerly, so if there was any shit in the air, I couldn’t blame it on the renter’s horse.

Heard a sonic boom earlier. We’re still fortunate enough not to hear them as often as we did the first few months of living in this house. I hope it stays that way, too. Particularly while the freeloaders still own me.

Anyway, I still don’t know what to make of the cheeks. Just maybe he will stick to the basics of just having me report and make payments, something he has no say over (although he could cut the reports in half) and skip the home visits and tests altogether, but I doubt it. He’s too all or nothing, like most people. His unwillingness to cut my reports in half just because the courts won’t do the right thing by letting me go, and the things he said when he first informed us of Casa Grande, tells me that. The way he mentioned not being able to always test people in Maricopa, and for me to “be prepared” is a dead giveaway. He’s had the opportunity to test me the last few times I saw him in Maricopa yet he didn’t. There were no trials or cases of any kind going on and the bathroom, which is off of the judge’s office, was perfectly free and available, so this tells me he’s not going to be “nice,” so to speak and do me any favors. He’s simply been waiting till he can test me with eyes on me. This doesn’t surprise me, either. I knew all along that it’d be this way. I knew that if God was going to allow the jail time to be played up to the max, he’d do the same for the probation part of it. He’s been whipping my ass good with these freeloaders from day one and he’s not about to give me any breaks till it’s over. It’s like he’s all or nothing too, by making me suffer on account of them to the extremes which I have. I just hope that if I’m right about being tested that he gets it’s the fuck over with. I’ve had it hanging over my head for 2½ months now. Enough torture! As soon as I can get that out of the way I think I’ll finally be able to breathe a lot easier and that it’ll ease a lot of my stress. But will the remainder of the time be smooth sailing? Or will something else come up? Nine months is an awfully long time to be on probation without some change or new demand of some kind. First there was the demanding of payment receipts, then the anxiety of the classes hanging over me, then the PG switchover. When you think about it, 3 things in 20 months isn’t that bad, but that’s approximately one new issue every 8 months and I’ve got 9 left. Well, closer to 9.5. I just figured that I may be blessed with not having to have any connection with the black bitch the final two weeks, so I consider it to be 9 months and a week. Not long when you consider what I started with, but long enough in itself.

I look out the window and I think wow, such a beautiful day. Such a beautiful day spoiled by the stress of what could happen tomorrow. Always the freeloaders taint anything that’s good in my life. It never fucking ends. It’s a way of life for me now. It’s been that way for years. Always with me, always with them.

Amazingly, I haven’t seen the renters today. Maybe that’s because it’s warmer today, whereas yesterday was cooler. Too cool for opening windows. You know it’s cold out when the heat comes on in the afternoon! Especially in a dual-paned windowed house with 6” walls.

Later…

I might’ve just seen the cheeks go by, though I can’t swear to it because he was going in the opposite direction in which he usually goes and because he drove on the property across the way. I’ve only seen him drive on the road, plus, the lovely weather’s clouding up and cooling down once again.

Anyway, we’re going to go in the afternoon tomorrow so I don’t have the pressure on me of trying to be up early. Especially when I know I’m going to have a hell of a time sleeping tonight. I need time to wake up and psych myself up for this shit, so to speak, and to get my bladder full. It’s gonna take a half hour to get there, so if I leave with my bladder too full, I could piss my pants along the way! I have to get it just right.

God, what did I do to deserve this shit?! Why does he hate me so? Is it because I’m supposedly Jewish? Short? Cuz of my forefathers? Why???

God doesn’t have to love me. In fact, he doesn’t even have to like me. All I want is for him to leave me alone and just ignore me if he hates me that much and stop using me as a punching bag with those he does love and worship!

I try to tell myself to just relax, that they can’t hurt me, that I didn’t do anything wrong, but I didn’t do anything wrong nearly 2½ years ago, either, so if that’s the case, then how come I got thrown in jail for 6 outrageous months, then ordered to report twice a month to a PO, and to pay $40 a month, and to do 100 hours of community service, and to see a therapist, plus all the other humiliating shit for 30 more months?

There is another possibility and that’s that he may trust me enough to let me pee unobserved, but I doubt that, too. Again, he’s just too all or nothing. I mean, why should he when he has plenty of eyes available? Just to be nice and considerate of my feelings? I don’t think so!

As special as Little Buddy was, these rats really are just as friendly, playful and loving. Oreo’s like an “outside Sneezy.” Meaning, where Sneezy wouldn’t leave the inside of the cage when the cage door’s open, Oreo won’t leave the few feet surrounding the outside of the cage. They sure do like to get attention, climb all over me, and get treats from me.

I’ve got all the betas in the kitchen now to make for easier cleaning/feeding. I have two side-by-side on the counter and one on the island.

Later…

Tom and I just got done playing with the rats.

He also listened sympathetically and patiently to my bitching about the stress over tomorrow. A part of me was like, Don’t let yourself be subjected to this shit anymore and just run. Go! Get out of here!

Then I was like, Uh-uh. I got forced out of this house once. Next time I go willingly, but not until I’m ready to do so.

Meanwhile, I got a call from Mary’s aunt. She left a message asking me not to email Terri Morganthal, the prosecutor in the Florida case, a copy of Mary’s book if I haven’t already done so, till after the trial. She was obviously worried that it could hurt Mary since the defense would have to see it, too.

I called her back and told her I already sent it, but since there was nothing incriminating in it, I see no reason why it should make a difference. Carolyn, who said she was going to see Mary tomorrow, said she’d tell her this. She also said she’d call me if she learned anything that I might not know (I told her I rarely see the news and never read the paper).

Speaking of the news, well, it did make the news after all. The sick twist pleaded guilty to the James case! Everyone’s ecstatic about it and I can see why. This will help Mary a lot. Hopefully, it will, anyway, but as Carolyn says, I don’t know about her being released in ’04. I told her the same thing I told Mary, that speaking from personal experience, I wouldn’t put much faith in the system. You just can’t always buy what pigs or lawyers tell you. The presentencing guy told me to hope for the best, but expect the worst, and I think that’s what Mary should do. Life simply isn’t fair and you can’t always count on people to do the right thing, so as far as the pardon she expects to get within 2-3 years of her release – I don’t know. Even if I knew that’s all I’d have to do, I’d still run cuz I didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t kill anyone, so she shouldn’t have to do 5 minutes. Even if I was guilty of being a mass murderer, though, there’s no way I’d stick around for even just a year of intense probation, though that’s just me. She got to do what she’s got to do. I just hate to see her get her hopes up for nothing, then end up heartbroken. All I can do is hope things go as she hopes/expects them to.

Anyway, Mary was supposed to go to court today, but it was canceled. Also, I’m not sure when she’s going to Florida. Carolyn says they might not take her there till Justin’s sentenced (Mary is doing Florida time right now, too). They’ll both ultimately end up in Florida, but as Carolyn says, they’d probably send her back here to do her probation time cuz here’s where her family is. Well, I didn’t get into it with her, but they won’t send her anywhere, nor will they care where her family is. However, they do transfers, so she should easily be able to get a courtesy transfer from Florida to Arizona, but they’re not going to pay to move her back here.

I asked Carolyn if she had a computer and an email account and she says she hardly ever turns her computer on and doesn’t know how to use it. I’m just hoping Mary will have access to a computer in Phoenix once she’s out so she can work on her book more easily, but by then, I think it’ll all be written and proofread. Then, the only thing to do will be to organize it, print it out, send it to a publisher and hope for the best.

I was rather dismayed to hear Mary may get a place in Phoenix with her mother. This is the same mother that beat her and told her she was a worthless this and a worthless that. Why oh why would she want to live with anyone that’s done that to her? I just don’t get it. She writes a letter of inspiration to this abused woman, and that’s all well and good, but wouldn’t her living with her mother be regressing herself in a sense? I really think she needs to wipe people like her mother and Derek out of her life for good. She needs people in her life who haven’t/won’t verbally, mentally or physically abuse her. No, I just don’t always understand Mary’s way of thinking or her beliefs, but I still love her dearly. She has to make her own mistakes as well as her own successes just like the rest of us. Back when I was a single, naïve, poor 24-year-old, people told me it would be a mistake for me to have a kid. Yes, it would’ve been a mistake, but had I made that mistake, it would’ve been mine to make.

Anyway, I guess Mary could be here as late as February because that’s when the sicko’s to be sentenced, but we’ll see. Like I told both her aunt and Mary herself, her stuff’s ready to be sent to Florida as soon as she tells me she’s there. Meanwhile, I don’t want to be sending any more mail to Estrella. They could be moving her right now for all I know. Whatever happens, whenever it happens, all I can do is hope things go as well as possible. The poor girl’s been through enough as it is.

There’s a line from one of the poems that goes, “If you don’t like the cast of characters you’re involved with, get rid of them and start a new bunch,” and when I first read that I was like, yeah right! Like I could just dump the cheeks and the whole damn thing? On the other hand, that’s exactly what I did with my family. They were a problem and I disengaged myself from them one by one. At least I got to have some say with them and believe me, it’s a lot easier to detach yourself from those not living within a few feet of your house.

Both of us still aren’t sure what to think as far as what the future may hold for me in Casa Grande. As he pointed out, Scot has proven to pull surprises. We never expected him to write that note of recommendation to the courts to let me go, but he did.

Another thing Tom pointed out that never crossed my mind, was that another reason he may be hesitant to cut my visits is that it could cause the courts to give him more clients if they see he’s gone and cut people. Cutting people would only give him more time and less to do, which I know the courts would gladly fill in. Like I always said, as soon as someone’s let go, a new person comes in. They keep things running as consistently as they can. Even Gina commented on how as soon as one’s done with community service, in comes someone new. Plus, Scot has complained about his caseload before. A lady mentioned his having 25 people, and that was when he came out and said he wished he had 25, but that he had 70.

I don’t think that was the cheeks I saw earlier. That same SUV with the same loud engine that also drove on the property across the way went by again, and I could clearly make out the profile of a woman driver this time around.

The ear doctor called back to say they never got my referral. Despite the incompetent people in this world, I don’t buy it. I think they’re just swamped with too many patients, so they figure they’ll give some of them the runaround to discourage them from making appointments. Well, it worked because Tom and I decided he’d look around for a very small pair of tweezers. Once he finds them, I’ll oil the canal for a few days before he goes picking out dead skin.

Something just hit me. Carolyn said, “Here’s my number, in case it didn’t show up on your Caller ID.”

Well, how’d she know we have Caller ID?

Tomorrow’s the day I return to the 120s for sure! It’s the end of my day and I’m 130, exactly what I woke up as. In the past few days, I’d be 132-133 at the end of the day, so I’d wake up back at 130 the next day. Not tomorrow!