The black bitch says I have to be in bed by 4 AM. You see, I’m in a tough spot with my schedule right now. I was getting up too late to report this Wednesday afternoon and unable to stay up late enough to be a slave to bitch in the morning, so I’m going to start setting my alarm so I don’t sleep past noon and we’ll do the bitch in the afternoon. I wonder if Scot will be back. He was never the greatest so I wish he wouldn’t return and that I could be turned over to that chubby blond chick that observed my test. Compensation, in a sense, begins in November. That’s when we’re going to add the money that the fucking state got over the last few years to our allowances which will mean we’ll each get $60 a month whereas right now we’re getting the same as them.

Although my nasal spray keeps me from having 24-hour sneezing fits, I still have daily patches of sneezing. It really gets old, too! I just want a day in my life without sneezing. Just one day.

Not surprisingly, since I can’t seem to go more than a week or two without being woken up, the sound of the wind yanking off a piece of the house’s skirting woke me up. It’s been windy a lot lately and it’s cooled down again, too. We haven’t needed heat, but we haven’t needed the AC either. Wish it could be like this year-round.

I’m up a pound so I gotta take it easy. It’s my own fault, though. I had 2000 calories or more yesterday.

Carolyn held true to her word and sent me those two books of stamps. I really am grateful, too.

The first large and regular envelopes to Fort Myers were returned to me today, and the plants are in, too. On a Saturday, of course, when we can’t pick them up till Monday.

It appears that both the bougainvilleas are going to end up dead, but everything else is fine so far. The palms are established, but unlike the oleanders, they don’t seem to have grown yet. The oleanders are doing the best. They’ve grown noticeably.

My bingo ticket vibes are hot again. I knew the last time he bought a couple that they’d lose, just like I knew one of today’s would win, and it did. It won $5.

It’s gotten to the point now where I no longer sit in anticipation of Scot stopping by. I really believe that’s now one thing in life that the freeloaders no longer have control over. I mean, I’d really be surprised if he ever did come back. Surprised enough to be suspicious. Especially since he and I both know there’s no reason he should be here.

Nonetheless, like it or not, those freeloaders do still own me for the most part which means I gotta make sure I start staying up as late as I can to go to Casa Grande for them first thing in the morning.

Last night I did my best sewing work yet, making Eve a gown very similar to the Mesmerizing leopard print gown Esme wears, so now I really don’t have to get it. I wanted something in that style, though, to add variety. I took an old leopard print bodysuit and used that for the material. I made a form-fitting skirt that rests on the hips and reaches nearly to the ankles and a halter that crosses at the chest. It really looks great on her, and I did it with no pattern in under two hours. For accents that I put around her waist, I added a small pearl necklace that came with another doll.

I’m now $110 away from that Indian doll I want.

In other doll news, there’s this really cool line of Barbies coming out this year, some of which is already out, called the Birthstone Barbies. Although they all wear the same beautiful glittery gown, each has a different color depending on the stone for that month, plus a matching necklace. The stone for my month is turquoise and that, along with September’s Sapphire Barbie, is my favorite. All the Barbies are white, but they have color variations in their hair and eyes. September’s a blond and December’s a brunette. I was surprised to learn they’re only $25 each. Walmart’s going to be carrying them. We learned that Walmart has an online store, too. Anyway, although they won’t be out till September, I think they’ll look cool together with one’s hair being darker than its dress and the other’s being lighter than its dress. The contrast will be nice and I think they’ll complement each other well side by side.

Tom got this vanilla-flavored Diet Coke that I thought would taste rather weird, but I’m amazed at how good it is. And it’s got 0 calories, too.

He says the bank’s going to have two floats in the gay pride parade that’s to be in Phoenix, and I said, “Oh, so the bank’s cheap, but not prejudiced?” and Tom laughed in agreement.

There’s a girl he works with who was eating and eating yet she kept losing weight. So it was discovered that she had what’s called a tapeworm till her doctor gave her medication for it. How I wish I could have a tapeworm! Only one problem, though. As soon as I got my weight down and killed the worm, I’d still be stuck with the cold hard reality of being over 30, and with that, a metabolism that’s virtually nonexistent. So, as soon as I took just one glance at food, the weight would come flying back on like a lonely puppy who missed its owner.

Carolyn left a message today saying she got her mail returned to her from Fort Myers (that was awfully fast) and that she’s sending me a couple of books of stamps which brings me to my Mary update that had me both furious and relieved.

Carolyn called to tell me yesterday that she finally received a letter from Mary, but she wasn’t in Fort Myers. She was in Naples! Terri went all out for her and got her in her own cell in this place she’s in now where she says she’s being treated a whole lot better. The inmates and guards are nice to her there which is what had Carolyn and I relieved. The other inmates are supposed to stay away from her, but they sneak over to chat with her, presumably on their hour out, and they’re the ones who lent her the envelope to send the letter. They know who she is, of course. I didn’t even realize myself just how famous Mary is, but I’m sure that’d be no compliment to her. Not under the circumstances which I can totally understand.

The part that pissed us off was when we learned of how shitty she was treated in Fort Myers. Apparently, Mary, whose wrists and ankles are still bruised from the chains she was forced to wear for a week, got a heavy period at one point and asked for pads, and the guard just glared at her till they eventually gave her a wad of toilet paper to use. They also wanted $3 a day, plus a $40 booking fee. Tom suggested the $3 fee might be because they get better food there, and also, if it was a maximum-security jail, that may be why she was treated like shit. They tend to be more aggressive and confrontational to inmates in maximum security. Anyway, although Naples has a $20 booking fee (I’m amazed Estrella didn’t have a booking fee), they charge $1 a day like Estrella. I hope that doesn’t mean the food’s so spicy it’s barely edible!

Another unfortunate thing is that Mary’s got walking pneumonia, so she’s been very sick. She said her brain was so fried from being sick that she couldn’t even remember my address.

She also told me that a guard told her that her English biddy of a mother-in-law, who lives in Florida and who’s a major drunk, has been in and out of the jail several times.

What had us so pissed off was all the mail we knew would be returned to us, particularly me. Here I was finally given something for mailing all this shit and what should happen but that the cost should get thrown back on me, as usual. Not the case, though, in the end, because Carolyn was kind enough to offer to send me stamps which was way nice of her. I really do appreciate it. It’s going to take about 40 stamps to get everything mailed.

As soon as I’m reinked, as a way of saying thanks, I’ll send Carolyn a word find puzzle. She seemed to think that was a really neat and fun idea. I’ll also mail a few pictures of Tom and I and our land. I’ll send an outer house shot, too.

Tomorrow I’ll be sending Mary one regular envelope with a couple of small pictures of Murphy (I think the mail rules are the same as Estrella there) and I absolutely won’t send anything else till I get a reply back.

The doll could be here any sec, though more likely not till between the hours of 3:00-5:00.

Meanwhile, I saw that fucking rat hanging out by the bush I dumped her by. She was in plain view where Tom could see her, so I went out, scared her down into a hole, then filled the hole in.

I keep hunting for this song that only one user in the world seems to have and they’re rarely online. When they are, I’m queued up over 100, and by the time I get under 20, they either go offline or I crash.

I turned the ringer down low on the phone while we still have the regular phone. Now that the satellite has freed up the phone, I expect we’ll get daily sales calls. Not like in Phoenix where we were getting half a dozen or more a day, but maybe once or twice a day.

All the petunias and wildflower seeds surrounding Queenie are pretty much dead. The wildlife seems to like to pick on that particular group, whereas the ones surrounding Palma are doing fine. Yeah, I always did say that Palma was one tough bitch!

There’s this 19-year-old gay girl named Meagan where Tom works. She’s the one that had that hilarious T-shirt saying: All my Barbies are Lesbians. Tom mentioned to her that I like women and the two have talked freely about gayhood. Well, Meagan’s getting married to another 19-year-old woman whom she went to high school with. Even though I told Tom to tell her she’s too young to get married, gay or straight, and that Jennifer Lopez is way better looking than her Ani DeFranco, we’ve been invited to the wedding. I was surprised to hear Tom say he wouldn’t mind going out of curiosity just to see what the ceremony’s like, and I’m a bit curious myself, but since neither of us likes to be sociable, we probably won’t go. It’s on April 25th and if it’s outdoors I’m not going to go sweat my ass off over this for people I don’t even know. Plus, as he pointed out, he’ll have to work that night.

Later…

Esme arrived at 3:00. She’s very nice. Awesome hair. Her outfit wasn’t quite the color I expected it to be. So many light-colored things online look white. I thought her outfit was of a frosty white color, but her jacket’s actually a light metallic gold and the pants, shoes and bodysuit are a cross between light tan and off-white. I left her leggings and boots on and replaced the jacket with the gold and white fur-lined coat that came with Karen. It clashes a little, but not much. I polished her nails metallic gold. She also has bendable arms, unlike the others, and comes with gold sunglasses which actually look cool on her and go well with the outfit I’ve assembled for her. Now I’m not sure I’ll bother with Sydney or even the Esme Mesmerizing. Maybe I’ll still get Sydney so I can have the full line, but I can get similar fashions on Barbies for half the cost.

The bitch of a rat is now history. No, she didn’t die on her own, and no, I didn’t kill her, though I’d have liked to. I simply had enough and dumped her, though I’m not going to tell Tom that. Unlike with Little Ratsy, I dumped her way out towards the front of the property. Hopefully, she won’t have the guts to come to the house, and if she does, I hope she doesn’t get into the vents. She won’t if we seal them up well enough. Hopefully, she’ll get eaten by either prairie dogs, roadrunners or something.

I finally got the UPS link to work. The doll started in South San Francisco, then went to Sylmar, and as of 1 AM last night, it arrived in Phoenix. I don’t see why it can’t be delivered today, but that’s how it always is; they get delivered the next day. Today she’ll be sent to the Casa Grande station where the actual delivery person will bring her from.

I’m still weighing the pros and cons of getting the kiln. We’d save a lot of time, money and hassles if we didn’t, but at the same time, I do want to make dolls and I’m not going to be working for Mary or writing my own dumb stories forever, so what will I do then? Sit and stare at the wall?

If all went well, Mary now has the first big envelope, plus a letter. This Friday or Saturday, she should have the second big envelope and another letter. I’m not going to send any more manila envelopes till I hear from her, though.

The first of the two letters sent to Estrella came back. I’ll be sending it off to Mary, along with another letter. I’ll also send a separate envelope with Murphy’s pictures. That way she won’t have to wait any longer for them. I also want to wait till I hear that she’s been getting the stuff I’ve been sending.

I called her aunt last night to see if she’s heard from her and she said she tried calling Saturday night, but that her husband accidentally hit the wrong button and lost her.

I got the UPS tracking link, but it doesn’t work. It says it can’t find any information for that tracking number. Tom said it’ll work when it gets in the system, but I don’t know. It seems to be taking an awfully long time. Either way, I won’t worry unless the doll doesn’t show up on Thursday, the day it’s supposed to.

This new system sucks! It really, really sucks. I have so much trouble going online. All it does is crash. The whole point in switching to this setup was to save money, but there’s always a price to pay for saving money. It’s like something up there doesn’t want us saving money. I’m no longer watching any TV and I go online as little as possible. It’s just that I had to send Chuck Mary’s book and I want to keep checking for a UPS tracking link on the doll I ordered. I also questioned them about another doll I may order in the future and I’m awaiting a response on that, too.

I had to listen to a few hours of non-stop pop, pop, pop. Yeah, the hunters are still at it, mostly in the mornings. The hotter it gets, though, the less I hear of them during the day. It’s at the point now where it’s chilly early in the morning and warm by late afternoon. I ran the AC yesterday for an hour or so.

I’ve finished all of Mary’s stuff, so now I can take a break and work on my own stuff for a while. I’m sure it won’t be long before the drafts start coming again so I’ll use this time off wisely. I can’t wait to hear from her. I’m hoping to this week. I also hope she gets my stuff and that no one’s harmed her. If anyone ever does, I swear I’ll finish her book with the aid of her family, but so far, nothing up there’s proven to hate her enough to see her killed. Maybe badly hurt both physically and emotionally, but not killed. Anyway, Mary’s strong. She’ll pull through.

As usual, I can’t get on the net. It’s been nothing but hit or miss, usually miss. As I keep telling Tom, this new setup’s terrible. Just terrible. The net’s fucked up half the time and the TV is still complicated. It used to be we just brought up the guide and clicked on what we wanted to record, but now, I couldn’t even begin to figure it out. He does it. And of course, he’s still saying he’s going to come up with software to make it all better. Also, those video captures I was supposed to be able to make never happened either.

We did manage to get on the web long enough last night to order Esme. She’ll be shipped on Monday and should arrive Wednesday or Thursday.

They took the plant money on the 17th, so hopefully those will get here this week. Then all we have to do is hope they’re all alive upon arrival and that they survive when we plant them.

Although Tom is going to be looking for jobs in Casa Grande so he doesn’t have to drive all the way to Tempe, he wants to stay at the bank at least till January so we can get the final bundle of stock which will be about a grand.

The prairie dogs have been munching on the tomato plant leaves. I told him it was a waste of time and money getting fruit or vegetable plants. The rabbits and rodents will devour them in no time.

I hope that once the new driveway’s in, he’ll stop kissing the neighbor’s ass. He cuts the headlights as the car swerves around facing their house right before he stops the car, and I’m like, “But they couldn’t even see the light with all that brush they got in the way. Besides, you don’t owe them the courtesy. You don’t have to be mean to them, but you don’t have to be nice, either.”

And it still bothers me how he’s dealt with a certain other set of neighbors from the past, too. There have been so many times he’s played their shit down or acted as if I shouldn’t be bitching about something they’ve done, etc. Yet this black bitch was never once questioned. Not by her family, not by her friends, not by the courts, not by the media who no doubt never twisted a word she said. Never once did anyone ever ask, “Are you sure you didn’t do anything to provoke any problems?” Never once did anyone ever tell her, “You may not have deserved the journals, but if you’d just shut up and lived like normal, decent civilized people, you’d never have had a problem.” Never once did anyone ever ask her, “If you didn’t like the mail she sent, why didn’t you just dump it and move on?”

How do I know this? I just do.

Anyway, it’s a good thing we are just friends, as I never realized, though it’s all well worth it, just how much of his time the home improvements would eat up. His mother ran him ragged in the city and out here it’s the car and home improvements. Aside from why it wasn’t in my cards, no wonder it wasn’t in his to have a child. He’d never have the time for it. In fact, I’m seriously considering forgetting about the kiln. Not just because I can’t imagine God allowing me to work for myself for once and do something I want to do, but because I don’t see how he’d have the time to work on it with me. As soon as he sat down to work on it with me, the car would break. I think it’d be a whole lot easier, given the very full plate that we have, to just drop it and save the money to buy 4 or 5 of the nicest dolls. I think I could get them within 2-3 years.

My next purchase goals are the last 3 mugs I designed with several rat and mouse pictures. I’ll need to save $47. I owe $10 on Esme’s shipping, then I’ll need $37 for the mugs.

Tom trimmed 2” of hair last night. It was an inch below the crack of my ass and now it’s an inch above it.

Later…

Oh, no I’m not getting the mugs next. Not with the absolutely stunning new Indian doll Ashton now has. It’s breathtakingly beautiful! She’s called Spirit of the Snowy Owl. She’s 18” tall and holds an owl on one outstretched arm. Even her sleeveless Indian dress is gorgeous and the realistic detail of the sculpture itself is fabulous. Naturally, she isn’t cheap. She’s $130, but I think that by June I’ll have her.

I emailed Mary’s book to Chuck, but I had to do it in 5 different emails and mail about 50 pages at a time because the thing wouldn’t let me send so many pages at once.

In regards to Mary’s line: a man who hits you and claims he loves you is a full-blown devious liar – well if I could add to that I’d add that anyone who hits you and claims they love you is a full-blown devious liar. Even parents. My mother hit me as a child and then told me she loved me and I believed it. As an adult, however, I believe that the only one who believed she loved me was my mother herself. This advice shouldn’t solely apply to men. It should apply to everyone. Nobody who hits you loves you no matter if they’re family, friends, lovers, strangers, etc. I think that if one is going to have enough self-respect to steer clear away from violent lovers, one should do the same with violent friends and family. After all, self-respect is self-respect and to what do we owe the honor of allowing those to slap us around or abuse us verbally/emotionally just because we share their blood or just because they’re a friend or someone we don’t sleep with? My mother supposedly feels guilty just like hers does over the way she treated her kids, but you know what? It’s too late. Know what else? They never change. They may recognize they fucked up, but they never ever change. They’ll appear changed for a while, but I can assure you, it’s always temporary.

Speaking of change, most of us in general change throughout the years. However, never have I met people who’ve changed so little over the years as did the folks and siblings. They’re virtually the same with everything they do. The way they think, the way they talk, their beliefs, etc. Almost nothing had changed from when I was a child till I walked out of their lives for good 6 years ago.

It’s 82° in the house now so I turned the cold water temperature back on. Once it hits 85°, we’ll need to AC it.

The renters haven’t been out much lately. At least we know they’re cool, though I sure as hell wouldn’t want them for neighbors in the city, and I’d still prefer the dogless, childless couple who are rarely home. God wouldn’t be that nice to me, though.

Still haven’t gotten back the letter I sent the day after Mary left, and here’s the latest on her which is not good at all. Hopefully, things are better by now, but she’s sure been having a hell of a time of it over the last week. I feel so, so bad for her. See, they actually drove her to Florida. I thought they’d fly her, but she rode on a bus which took a whole week to get to the Lee County jail where she is in Fort Myers because they stopped many times along the way to drop people off. Her aunt said she said it was terrible. She was stuck next to someone whose breath was a nightmare, she’s been stuck in the same underwear for a week, and of course, the whole ride was spent handcuffed and shackled to each other, having to beg really hard to use the bathroom, and being forced to sleep on the bus as they sure as hell weren’t going to check into a motel or anything like that. Makes me wonder about those who need daily medication that’s essential to their staying alive and about those who get their periods along the way. Do they even give them pads? Did they get fed along the way? It must’ve been so cool to see things she hasn’t seen for so long, yet frustrating at the same time to see places like Denny’s and not be able to stop there.

Another horrible thing is that you can’t just request Ad-Seg there and she was sent to GP. She says she’s terrified, and I would be too, with a high-profile case like that. So her aunt’s going to call Terri to see if she can pull some strings to get her in Ad-Seg, something Tom says should be no problem in light of the fact that she’s a witness for the prosecution. I just hope they Ad-Seg her real soon. That is before she gets jumped and not after.

I was surprised, yet pleased to hear after Mary called her aunt, that along with a bible, they gave her a 5x7 picture of Gretchen. Who gave it to her and how they got it, I don’t know, but that’s way cool of them.

I guess her aunt didn’t know we were cellies. She said one of us might have mentioned it in the past, but it came up when I commented about how I knew firsthand how horrible Estrella food was. We didn’t get into why I was there, but if Mary wants to discuss it with her, that’s fine. She can tell people whatever she wants to cuz I really don’t care.

Her aunt says inmates can write to each other there and that Mary’s worried about Justin writing her, but I assured her that if he did, it’s just words and words cannot hurt us. Especially when we’re adults who can tell ourselves not to listen to anybody’s shit. As Tom suggested, all she has to do is just give them to the prosecution.

Her aunt called the jail about the mail rules and the picture rule is the same as Estrella. You can send up to 5 pictures and they can’t be bigger than 3 x 5. When I realized I had to crop a lot of the pictures down and that some couldn’t be cropped without cutting off people’s heads, we agreed I’d send those pictures to her aunt, though Mary will still get them. I have them scanned in and all I have to do is squeeze them down before I print them out. We also agreed it be best if I sent the religious cards to her aunt to hold onto for her. I just hope there’s no problem with the astrology scans, cards and word-find puzzles. I also hope they don’t count my address label as one of the 5 pics. Her aunt said they said I couldn’t send her book, but I’m hoping they misunderstood her question and that they thought she meant an actual published book.

Every 3-4 days I’ll send something. She should have all her stuff by May if all goes well. I’m not going to enclose any journal excerpts in the letter that will go out to her Monday till the two sent to Estrella after she left are returned to me and I see where I left off. Meanwhile, the first of the 3 manila envelopes went out yesterday and the next one will go out Monday, then Thursday. Then I’ll start with the 3 or 4 small manila envelopes (I decided to enclose the start of my Kate story, even though there are only 10 pages), then regular envelopes with pictures. There’ll be 7-8 of those between her pictures and mine. I even found a site online with a small pic of Monster, her and Gretchen. Poor quality, but hey, at least it was there! They’ll be in with the rest of her pics. Gretchen had such nice eyes, and boy was her hair a lot shorter! It was to her collarbone.

I noticed that one of the 6 cards was a Christmas card from the infamous Michelle and company and I asked if she still wanted it or if she wanted me to ditch it. I also asked if she’d like me to email Michelle to let her know what a jerk she and her son are for breaking her heart and then promising to send pictures they never sent.

I can’t wait to get the first letter from her telling me all about what the place is like. It’ll be a while before she gets commissary and gets established and adjusted. Though there’ll be some who won’t give a shit, soon enough most of the DOs will get to know her and see what a wonderful person she is.

At least she’s in the home stretch now and should never have to move again. Right now my vibes say she’ll be a free agent in September or October of ’05. The question is, though, what kinds of guys is she going to be getting pregnant by when she gets out, and how will they react to the babies once they’re born? Tom doesn’t think jail will cure her sick fondness for abuse, but that she’ll smarten up with age, but how old will she have to be before she does that? Forty? I just got to the part where he ran over her foot with the car when she was 6 months pregnant, yet she still stayed with him she loved abuse so much.

This is it. Florida’s got Mary. I awoke to a message her aunt left last night, saying that when she went to visit, she was told she had been en route to Florida since the 13th. What I don’t get is how she could still be en route, even if they were driving for some strange reason, and how the Florida prosecutor could not have known about it like she said was the case when she called her.

I decided to go ahead and send a 1-page letter with a few small pictures of Murphy and a religious card to her. The religious cards are about the size of playing cards. I never thought I’d be sending anything to that state again! As soon as I hear back saying she got it without any problems, I’ll start launching her stuff to her.

This is good timing, too. It’ll give me a chance to catch up on her stuff and maybe do some of my own stuff, too. I’ve been neglecting my story and proofreading.

I told her that although Florida’s quite humid and loaded with mosquitoes (though I know she already knows this), at least their winters are much warmer and nicer than Arizona’s.

So, if she really took off on the 13th, I should be getting two letters returned to me. I knew I shouldn’t have sent them, but it’s okay, she’ll still get them. I can’t imagine why she’d be driven to Florida and not flown, but either way, she should be there by now if she left on the 13th. That’s a whole week ago and it shouldn’t take more than 3-4 days to get there. Who knows? I could even have a letter from her on its way to me which would be nice.

So how do I feel about her leaving? Well, naturally I’m saddened by the extra mileage between us, but as I said numerous times before, I’ll feel more comfortable sending mail to a place in which only she knows my name. Despite our age differences, Mary turned out to be such a wonderful friend. Maybe we will be friends longer than the 11 years Andy and I were friends, the 13 years Jenny and I were friends, and the 18 years Paula and I have been friends. Actually, I’ve known Paula for 18 years, but we’ve really only been friends for about 13, minus the time we lost contact between late ’91 and late ’96, so 8 years, to be even more correct. The true test of Mary’s friendship will come when she’s released and no longer needs me. When she’s released and she no longer needs me to type for her, will she still be there?

To my utter amazement, though I should’ve figured it was coming sooner or later, I got a summons for jury duty in Maricopa County, and I was like, I’m a convicted felon, you assholes! Tom and I were laughing when I said, “I guess in some cases crime really does pay, even if you didn’t do it.” Anyway, I very happily checked the box for the convicted felon whose civil rights are not yet restored. Hey, I was born without most of my rights, civil and not-so-civil! Felon or not, like I’d be willing to serve the system that fucked me over? Yeah, right!

I wonder if the only reason Scot hasn’t come around is because of his being out, but I doubt it. I’d think he’d have whoever was covering for him go see those who he thought should be seen, but they ain’t seeing me. If I look out and see someone I don’t know, they’re not coming in.

I turned off the cold water switch. I really do prefer it room temp. It tastes like shit, though. Like plastic. Tom said it’ll go away in time. I hope so! Either way, I love the thing. It makes cooking so much easier and I can even brew my coffee with it! I just take the filter, which is small since my coffeemaker only brews by the cup, hold it over the cup and press the hot water switch.

I went outside yesterday and picked a little bushel of wildflowers. We have so many beautiful little flowers growing in patches throughout the land. I picked tiny daisies and tiny orange and purple flowers. I took a picture of me holding the clump in my hand too, to add to my land album. I thought of Mary as I picked the miniature daisies.

It appears the new house in front now has electricity. I can’t swear to it, but I think the light I see is coming from that house.

In about 4 hours, we’ll be seeing Scot. I no longer let myself get nervous prior to visits. Not just because of how much time’s left, but because I’m sick of giving Scot credit he doesn’t deserve by allowing him to intimidate me. He can’t do anything to me, I tell myself. He’s just a simple person. While I may not be invincible, he has no power or control over me. He may think he does, but I know better and I’m not going to see him as an “authority figure.” He has no hold on me, for as far as I’m concerned, my life now belongs to me and me only. Doesn’t mean I can always get the things I want in life, it just means I’m nobody’s puppet anymore. I put in over 37 years of being someone or society’s slave and I won’t do it anymore.

Anyway, Tom got two 5-gallon water bottles yesterday. When one gets low, he’ll take and fill the other. It has pretty little lights on it, too. Green is the power light, red is the hot water and then there’s this pretty bluish-purple light for the cold, though the hot and cold only come on when the thermostat kicks in, very much like a refrigerator. Also, the space down below is not a refrigerator. It’s just a storage space for things like cups.

The spell’s a bust, too. The bougainvillea’s dead and the bitch isn’t sick. Is it just people I can place spells on? Or were Mary’s and Scot’s illnesses just coincidences?

Tom and I were talking about different states as far as population and prejudice go. Arizona has one of the smallest black populations, he told me. Not small enough, though, to save me from their wickedness.

We filled in the burn hole and agreed to do individual burn holes till the fences are up, and ultimately, we’ll get a barbecue pit. So, that’s one less thing I gotta worry about.

Although I look forward to Mary visiting someday, I felt it best to tell her up front that I don’t want anyone other than her aunt to know where we live while she’s on this bad-boy kick. Until that streak is broken, I don’t want potential trouble at the house. If there’s ever a time when she develops a little self-respect and has been with a guy for several months to a year with no known record and who’s never taken a swing at her, then we’ll see.

I also reminded her that I’m not single and in my 20s anymore. In other words, I’m not going to want to go to parties, go to bars, or hang out with lots of people. I’m a homebody and not a people person. I even hate to gab on the phone as much as I used to, I told her.

Anyway, I’m only telling her this cuz I think it’s only fair that she knows up front and doesn’t get released thinking I’m something I’m not. I figure she probably knows all this anyway from my letters, journals and book, but I still wanted to be upfront in advance. Besides, not everybody gets what they don’t want to hear. I’m not saying she’s like this, but take Andy for example, who refused to see the obvious; that I was a better guitarist than a pianist because of his overwhelming desire for his friends to be carbon copies of himself.

My visiting rules are simple, I told her – no smoking in the house and no small kids. This house isn’t childproofed, and I have too many breakables. I told her how I once told this to Evie and how she told mom she wasn’t happy about it (cuz she didn’t have the guts to tell me), and mom wasn’t happy about it either, and that I was like - tough shit! It’s our house and we have a right to ask people not to do or bring certain things into it just like others do with their houses. If Mary told me not to chew gum in her house, by all means, I wouldn’t and she’d have every right to tell me so. You can tell me not to wear the color pink for all I care, but I’d be obligated to respect that without taking offense. So, when she has more kids (and I know she will since she doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the words birth control) and they’re in their terrible twos, I’ll have to go to her place when she can’t get sitters. My attitude is pretty much – kids are kids and they have a right to be kids, just not at other people’s expense when it can be helped! Just because I don’t want any of my own doesn’t mean I hate kids or anything like that, cuz I don’t. They’re sweet, they’re cute, I just prefer them to stay in other people’s houses at least till they get a little older and understand the meaning of, “don’t touch.”

I was shocked to read she visited Monster at Estrella. I didn’t know this, though I knew he’d pretty much been getting in trouble with the law practically ever since he was in diapers. Also, his whipping his dick out like he did in the closed visitation booth to tell Mary it misses her was absolutely disgusting. What kind of class could a person like that possibly have? What a sickening thing to do, too. I mean, that’s nothing more than a man degrading men in general by doing that, and personally, I’d have been thoroughly embarrassed, but more so, I’d be embarrassed for him, then I’d walk out and never see him again in my life.

I suggested that if ever she gets the desire to “live dangerously” and on the edge with a bad boy, to remember all the suffering she and her kids have gone through on account of those bad boys and ask herself, is it worth it? Is it really worth the danger and excitement? I mean, she talks about writing the book to help others, well, what about helping herself first?

Later…

Oh, that fucking breakage curse! It just never ends. He was forced to do God’s favorite pastime for him, playing car. First a headlight went out, and of course there’s the power steering fluid that’s leaking. So he got a pump for that today, but now he says he broke a part and doesn’t know if it’ll get him to work tonight. This car is gonna cost us hundreds before we get the white truck running and licensed! See, I knew we’d be delayed with the fences. He planned to work on them this weekend, but he obviously won’t be able to if he’s going to be forced to stop and play car. Why won’t God just let us get ahead in life? Why must there always be so many setbacks?

To our surprise, Scot’s still out. All the PO covering for him would say was that he was on medical leave. Tom thinks it’s something like a knee or a back problem. The PO, some tall skinny dude, asked if I were “just a housewife.” Yeah, that’s all I am. Not much, huh?

Besides stopping for gas and car parts, we both got new underwear from Walmart. I got another 5-pack of satin string bikinis so I have more than enough for when I have accidents during periods.

We also got gum and those delicious caramel ice cream bars we’ve come to love.

You know, I got to thinking about it, and the more I think about it, the more I hope Mary makes a good sum of money from the book. It may sound selfish, but then I wouldn’t necessarily be working for free as I’m sure she’d give me at least a little something for helping her out.

Later…

Tom now says things are falling together nicely with the car. I hope so. I want to do fences this weekend, not cars.

Later…

Or so we thought things were going to be okay, but no, he’s now got to run all the way back to Casa Grande for parts. God, give him a break! Just give the poor guy a fucking break. They run him ragged at work as it is. He doesn’t need this shit. Let us just get the fuck on with our lives. If you have to pick on us, why don’t you just leave him out of it and pick on me? Come after just me. You hate me enough to, so do it! Just leave my husband and our fucking vehicles alone! I’m just so sick and tired, just so fed up with seeing him lose time, sleep and money to that fucking car!

I ended up having to wake Tom up to burn the trash yesterday, as yet another new dog in the area managed to push the 3 tires and umbrella stand off and dive into it. Big dogs like that can move pretty much anything a person can move. I was gonna burn the shit myself, but knowing how much he likes to be in charge of that, I had him do it.

Now here’s where it gets weird. Real damn weird. I watched Tom burn the trash from the window and I swear I saw him talking to himself. Actually, it looked more like he was talking to someone else, someone invisible. When I asked him about it, he denied it which made me wonder which one of us was going crazy.

I’ve also sworn I’ve heard him talking to himself in the bathroom which he says he never did either, but I know what I saw. Would he deny something like this? And why? Could he be doing it without realizing it? I sure hope not! To each their own, but the thought of people talking to themselves has always made me rather uncomfortable. It just seems like you’d have to be a bit ill to do so. Yet this is a man who’s smarter than 90% of the population. Too smart for any head problems.

I slept an uninterrupted 10 hours.

No plants yet, but Tom emailed me to say I have one big envelope from Mary. Hopefully, she’ll now be able to tell me when she’s leaving, but I hope there are not too many drafts. I still have 80 pages or so I’m trying to catch up on here. I hope my mail to her doesn’t get returned. I’m still hesitant to send more mail there. We’ll just have to see what she says, but if I don’t, I hope she’ll understand why. I told her why I was going to hold off mail in the first place which makes me wonder if she didn’t get the letter saying so. I absolutely hate it when she doesn’t answer all my questions cuz then I get all worried that someone’s tampering with the mail and all that. I was also surprised when she asked me to send José her letter, cuz I made myself clear about doing for her friends in a letter and she never struck me as the type to not listen well. It makes me awfully uncomfortable to be sending mail to an inmate I don’t know who could be in for anything. She doesn’t even know what he’s in for and see, she’s got to let go of people like that. She’s going to convince her PO that she likes “bad boys.” Meanwhile, sending emails, as long as I won’t have a lot to type up, is okay. For the most part, though, I just want to be her friend and her typist. Not her editor, publisher, messenger, etc.

Later…

Still nothing saying when Mary’s leaving, but I sent her a letter anyway. She definitely got the first one and probably the second one too, which was mailed on the 14th. However, we’re wondering if a letter from her to me didn’t make it because she said she commented about my drawings and Chris’ picture after I asked her again.

She agreed to send Teddy Bear’s letter and would be honored to let her know she sucks. I figured she would, but I’m still so grateful to her for doing this for me. Tom’s just too paranoid about me sending it myself. I’m still going to mention having moved in the letter. Her sergeant’s knowing about it should help keep her from getting any smart ideas too, cuz if something happened to me, it’d be too obvious she was behind it and they’d be there to testify that she was pissed over the letter which she no doubt will be.

She said her aunt got the disk and that Brandi requested that Virginia move in with her and she was ever so happy to see her go. I was like, awe, how sweet, two killers all locked up tight together!

She was all stressed and depressed over her aunt’s letting her have it over excessive money spending. Yes, the bad boy lover sent Clarence $45 of roses for Valentine’s Day. She got her roommate’s family to do it and she paid for it with commissary. She cried that she was a shopaholic who’d blown $550 since December. I told her, “Although I feel for you, I had to laugh at the same time when you were talking about the money you’ve blown. Yeah, I’m a shopaholic myself, but $45 on a loser like Clarence? Come on, girl, you can do better than that! I thought you weren’t romantically interested in him anyway. Also, we’re ahead of you. I think we’ve blown a few Gs since December.

I don’t want anyone other than her aunt to know where we live and to bring her here to visit once she’s out. Not while she knows too many losers. I don’t want her coming here with a different loser each time she visits, bringing potential trouble to the house. She’s simply too nice and too trusting, and she obviously isn’t going to break this wild attraction for bad boys anytime soon, so it seems.

She still wants any pictures she can get a hold of for her book. Even Justin’s mug shot. “Who cares if he looks like crap,” she said, “he is crap.” I’ll send it to her in Florida. Speaking of her book, she really does have a point that I never considered. She feels it’ll be no problem getting it published not because of how well-written it may be, but because of her name. Unfortunately, the girl is rather famous.

“I wonder what Andy thought when I was in the news, even if it was only for a few months,” I said to Tom. Tom doubted he knew about it, thinking he’d try to visit me at the jail out of curiosity, but no way. There’s no way he’d be that curious. Besides, he was so pissed that I dumped him. Not hurt; pissed.

She says most inmates label her greedy. Yeah, the spoiled little shits love to label those who refuse to be responsible for them as stingy, selfish and whatever else they can think of. It really is true that most inmates have shit for brains. The immaturity in that place was astounding. It was just like being in school all over again. The stupidity and childishness were sickening.

Yeah, I figured she’d like the daisy stationery like she told me she did. Daisies are her favorites as tulips are mine.

Fortunately, she only sent a few draft pages as I still have a ton of pages to type. Like 85 of them.

The wind is blowing strongly towards the east. Too windy for opening windows that face west. It’ll just cool the house down too much and bring in dust. Therefore, I opened a couple of windows on the east side. That way the air will get sucked out. It smells of the chemicals I used to clean with and it’s making me tight.

I asked Tom if he thought Scot would be back tomorrow. Yes, he said, and I agree. It’s too bad too, as I was enjoying the break from having to hear how much time I have left. If I think that’s bad, wait till I have to hear about the poor, poor “victim” around May 1st and probably towards the end, too. He’ll find some reason to bring it up again at some point, I’m sure. I’ll surprise him, though, this time around when he tells me how much time I have left because I’ll be quick to tell him there are now 226 days.

It just hit me that Mary shouldn’t have the Teddy Bear letter with her in Florida since they’re not allowed to take anything other than legal papers, so I’ll have to make sure she writes that she discovered that they missed it once she got settled in Florida and thought she should have it.

Later…

It never ceases to amaze me just how much I’ve been woken up in this house, and even more so, how much I’ve been put out by other people’s animals! Something woke me up for a second yesterday and the dogs tore into our garbage. They wake me up, steal my peace and trash our yard! I should’ve insisted he bring the trash back into the house when he brought it out and saw it was too windy to burn. Despite adding two tires to the umbrella stand that’s filled with water as a cover, and just as I feared they would, the dogs toppled it over and got into the trash, spewing it all over the fucking place. It took me quite a while to gather it up. It had been super windy and at first, I thought the wind toppled the tires and stand over till I saw that the trash was all torn up. Nobody takes care of their fucking dogs out here! They bring them out here, decide they don’t want them for whatever reason, then turn them loose to depend on trash and shit like that. I left a message for Tom since I’ll probably crash before he gets up, letting him know that we need to either dig individual burnholes or dump the trash in the city till the fences are up, and also, I worry some of the giant dogs will jump over the fence out of sheer desperation alone. He said they wouldn’t since they had plenty of other land to roam, but if I were a starving dog who knew there was trash to pick through in here, I’d jump over whatever hurdles may be in my way. It makes me think we should spend the extra $150 on the zapping wire, but that’d be worthless against the big dogs if they do manage to hop on over as they wouldn’t need to touch it. Still, I wish we could have one strung low enough to zap little dogs from squeezing through and one up top for big dogs.

As far as what woke me up, I think Tom stupidly put the pot the oleander came in down without batting it down well. The wind apparently tossed it against the house. I found it in front in the brush. I put it where it can’t blow around and get whipped against the house.

In case I forgot to say so, I changed my email address. Feisty Dawn is now the rat lady. I’m ratlady1204, to be exact.

There wasn’t any money left over from Friday’s grocery trip, so I won’t be ordering that Esme doll on the 21st. Definitely at the end of the month, though, and instead of ordering the mugs at the end of the month, I’ll order them in early or mid-April.

It just started raining. The new plants will like that.

I got to thinking about how Mary surprised me by saying she was going to demand to be housed alone in Florida and that she was housed alone before because I thought she had told me they didn’t have Ad-Seg there which struck me as odd. All jails have to have some form of segregation, I’d think. Anyway, I think she’d be crazy to go general pop, and I’d be surprised if they even let her with her high-profile case. And especially in a state where more people would know about it. As long as the media’s going to be allowed to open their big mouths and endanger people like Mary, they gotta have Ad-Seg. Most people will feel bad for her and be on her side, but every so often she’d be up again a Nancy K who’ll see her as just as guilty for not protecting Gretchen.

The bougainvillea’s still alive. I’m trying again to put a spell on this bitch of a rat here. For Tom’s sake, I’m not doing death spells, just sick ones. If I have this gift, ability, power – whatever you want to call it – I may as well hone it as best I can. I’ll ask Mary if she wants me to try to make anyone she knows fall ill.

This morning we made my music computer part of the network, though we needed to get a newer, faster network card. They’re only $10, though. Tom said that it’s best to have backups on at least two different mediums, so I’ll still back up to CD once a month, but only on one CD instead of two. Meanwhile, I’ll send stuff to my music PC on a daily basis. At the end of each day, I’ll send whatever I’ve done during that day.

Tom’s going to visit his mom tomorrow, give her some puzzles I don’t want, and do some mooching. In other words, he’s going to see if Mom will pay for the grid fence, but I doubt she will. As Catholic as she is, she’s too selfish to volunteer that kind of money which would be over $500, even though she could easily afford to. It takes a crisis like when the well went out in order to get more than a measly $20 out of that woman. She’s as obsessed with the $20 bill as Mary’s obsessed with the camera.

He picked up the water dispenser today. It only does hot and cold, but all we have to do is turn off the cold, for example, and there’s my room temperature water. It also has a mini-refrigerator below for cans of soda. This thing would be ideal for offices, but in our case, it’ll save us $50-$100 a year. Not a huge sum of money, but it’s something.

We also now have all the posts we need (59). I believe him when he says wire wouldn’t be a settlement and that it’d be just as effective at keeping dogs out, but I’d still prefer the grid. They call it a field fence, I guess.

Let me guess, though, Mary will bitch about my jumping the gun in Mom’s letter, and Tom will defend her. I don’t know what it is with this man siding with others, especially to their faces. Art O. defended his wife at all costs, even when she was clearly in the wrong, yet I could be clearly in the right and my husband won’t always defend me.

Another thing that bothers me is his answer to a question I asked earlier. I asked him, if a woman were sexually neglected by her husband or boyfriend, say if he had a lot of business trips or whatever, and the woman stepped out on him, be it with another woman or not, would he A, blame the woman and say she was responsible for her own actions, B, blame the guy for being neglectful, or C, blame them both. My answer is C, cuz to me, it usually takes two to tango, but his was A. I was like, my gosh, you mean you wouldn’t feel the least bit guilty? Not that I intend to step out on him, but that really bothered me. He didn’t even feel guilty in the past either when he was jerking me around about the child I once so desperately wanted. I don’t like the way he’s assumed things about me and taken certain things about me for granted. In a sense, he’s expected me to give up so much for him. I have to wonder, is he ever grateful things turned out the way they did? Because most women would’ve walked. There’s no way he could’ve just expected them to give up a kid on account of his lame excuses, and put up with the lack of sex. That’s assuming and expecting too much of most people. I know he’d have been a good father if we’d had an accident, but that will never change things, though the past is the past. He’s handling the sex the same way he did with the kid; instead of coming out and admitting his lack of desire, he’s saying one thing and doing another. In other words, he’ll say he’s interested, then not make a move on me. He also places an awful lot of blame for his problems on me. I know he knows he’s not perfect, but to blame things I may’ve said or my attitude on his lack of cumming was really bad. He should’ve said, “I have a problem, it’s been years yet it’s not improving, so I should see a doctor if I want to cum and have a child, or I should just level with my own wife here. I owe her that much.” But instead, he strung me along with one excuse after another to tide me over between crying spells. Sometimes he was compassionate, sometimes he was sensitive but never guilty. The man seems to rarely ever feel guilt. It’s like he’d rather directly blame or imply it’s someone else’s fault. I still can’t believe to this day that he simply expected and assumed I’d just forget about a kid. Well, I did, though I don’t think I could ever fully forgive him for how he handled things in the past (I’ll certainly never forgive God for the depression and mental anguish he sat back and watched me suffer through for years). And now he just assumes I’ll live a life of celibacy whether or not I want to cuz he can’t come out and tell me the truth. Well, mark my words, if the opportunity ever does present itself between another woman and myself, I’m going to go for it, though I can’t see that happening and I don’t want it to. So you see, it’s not his lack of desire to get it on with me that bothers me, for I don’t desire sex either, it’s the not coming clean about it.

Back when he told me that the “cure” for his lack of cumming problem was for us to not talk about it, well, any decent therapist would say that that’s the worse way to handle a problem. Facing it is the best way, not ignoring it. Ignoring it won’t make it go away, but that’s just what he hoped would be the case. Not that his problem would go away, if it ever really was a true problem that was out of his hands, but that my desires for normal sex and a kid would go away, and believe me, I wish they went away in ’93 rather than ’98. But those aren’t things we can help. I couldn’t help wanting a kid back then and I can’t help not wanting one now. I’m only glad that the desire did go away in light of the circumstances. Besides, for every one mother I’ve met who’s praised motherhood, there are 20 who bash it, saying all it does is cause you pain, ruin your body, steal your life eat your money. “Hang onto your life and your money,” they’d tell me, “and keep your cute little figure.”

On the flip side, he’s more than made up for any faults he has with the things he did give me that I’d never have had the chance to experience if it weren’t for him.

He agreed with me that not having kids so you can have a life isn’t being selfish as some might say it is. What’s selfish is those who have kids that either don’t really want them or aren’t emotionally or financially ready for them. That’s both selfish and irresponsible.

Later…

Even on this damp, cloudy morning, the hunters are at it. They still shoot from sunup to sundown, and while I wouldn’t exactly describe them as obnoxious, I wish they’d give it a rest for the year. Hearing these little pops that sound like car doors all day gets old, though I do tune most of it out.

Later…

Sure enough, his cheap selfish mother didn’t pitch in anything toward the fences. Not even her famous $20 bill. This information was emailed to me from work, so if Mary or Mom started shit about me to Tom, I have yet to hear about it.

I also got an email from Mary’s lawyer in response to Murphy’s pictures I sent saying, “Wow, he is really grown up, thanks.”

We read together for a little while yesterday and discussed plans we have for around here. I got a great idea concerning the pond. At first Tom was skeptical, but after going out to take measurements, he agreed it could be done. Well, inside of having the pond out across the wash, making it hard to see into even though the house is elevated a good 3’ off the ground, I thought it’d be cool to have a long skinny pond close to the front of the house running alongside the living room and office windows. It’d be totally awesome to step up to the window and look down into a pond! It’ll also shade it from the afternoon sun.

We also busted out a lower shelf from one of the lower kitchen cabinets, allowing us to put our pails in there. That way they’re out of sight and the smell’s contained. I also won’t have to worry that certain eyes hired by the state to ensure I live my life according to their rules will see any mail from Mary. I used to make sure it was buried under other trash during the weekdays, but now it won’t matter. It probably wouldn’t matter even if it was still exposed since I doubt he’ll ever come here again, but the better my ass is covered, the safer I’ll be.

Last night while I was searching for MP3s, someone emailed me saying, “You’ve been busted as a leech and ignored!” (I did not have any music files set up to share) At first I thought it was the program itself, but Tom told me it had to have come from an individual. Nonetheless, I loaded a lot of my music on since I don’t mind sharing and it’s always neat to see what people want. They’re certainly coming at me more often now that I’ve got more files. I made two music folders. One for the slower stuff I don’t want to jog and exercise to, and then a folder for the more upbeat stuff. The upbeat folder is the one I’m sharing, though I may set it up to share both. I have a total of 794 songs right now. I’m very generous when it comes to my music and graphics, but with all else on this computer, I’m a stingy, selfish bitch. As selfish as his mother (at least she didn’t abuse him and pawn him off on other people, camps, funny farms, etc.).

It rained on and off throughout the day. Every time I think it’s not going to rain again till the monsoons, it does. Even the hunters called it quits early. We haven’t needed the AC for the last couple of days either.

It’s looking more and more like the fences are definitely going to be up sometime next month. I can’t wait! So my vibe was right all along about it not being much before I had 6 months left to go with the freeloaders.

Amazingly, despite being stuck for a couple of days and eating like a pig, I awoke at 125½. I really thought I’d be 128. Rather than having one big goal and telling myself I want to get down to 105-110, I think I’ll have multiple little goals. For starters, I’ll work at a goal of 120, though I doubt I’ll get much lower than that without nearly starving myself to death due to my age and muscle weight.

The more of Mary’s book I type up, the more sad, sick and cursed I see she has been so far. Get this, after Justin punched her out on the street, then cut the electricity and tore off the screen door to their roommate’s house to get in at her, slapped her again, busted down the bathroom door to assault her yet again, she goes and forgives him the next day saying that she loves him and love forgives all. That’s sick! Totally sick. How incredibly sad it is to read how she forgave him for all this shit, then insisted that God sent him, her “soul mate,” to her. That’s some God she’s been worshiping and some soul mate. Sorry, Mary, but nothing up there likes you. Can she ever be brave enough to see and face that fact as unfortunate as it is? Nothing up there has anything other than evil intentions for her. Maybe that will change someday and I sure as hell hope so, but the first step is going to be in realizing and admitting that she likes abuse and she likes abusive people. As soon as that illness is recognized and dealt with, the sooner she can do her part to help herself by avoiding people like Justin, Todd and Clarence. She can’t make God send her a loving soul mate if it isn’t in her cards, but she can at least stay alone if her only other choice is to take up with an abusive person. With the way she’s been going, though, she’s going to actively seek, be it at a conscious or subconscious level, an abusive guy the moment she gets out. In fact, her love of being slapped, kicked, punched and abused is so intense that I’m surprised she doesn’t request general pop. On the other hand, this type of disease usually pertains only to those the sick person is intimate with. It wouldn’t be the same if some fellow inmate took a swipe at her. It wouldn’t give her the gratification it would if it was a lover.

Nonetheless, it’s too obvious that she liked every minute of the abuse given the number of times she allowed herself to be abused by forgiving him, which essentially, was telling him it was okay. The only thing she didn’t get off on was the abuse of her kids. Yet still, her love of abuse was so much more powerful than her fear for her kids. Imagine that! To love to be beaten so much that it’s worth it to you to put your own kids at risk! And this is an otherwise compassionate and intelligent woman. I believe she really truly was scared at the times she was abused, but that was part of the thrill, the adrenaline rush she got from the fear. She’s what’s known as a fear junkie and a pain freak. I just can’t fathom it, but I know she hasn’t changed. Not when she’s still associating with people like her mother, who in a sense, was worse than mine. Her mother’s not her mother any more than mine was, but merely the woman responsible for her being born, yet people continue to obsess over biology.

She has no self-respect. She may as well go into a bar with a shirt saying: Buy me daisies and I’ll be fond of you, beat me up and I’ll love you forever.

It’s like all she knows is abusive men and having kids for them to abuse as well. I wonder how many kids she’d have by now if she’d never been to jail. Well, either way, I sure am worried for her future kids, that’s for sure.

If she were still alive, she’d still be with him today if the two of them were never jailed. She said it herself in her book: “True love forgives all error and I’ll be with you, Justin, no matter how much right or wrong you do.” Even if he killed all her kids by now, she’d still be with him.

After waiting forever in line, all the MV did was give him a number to call that doesn’t look at all promising for getting the title, so he’s going to make the transfer. I knew he’d have to anyway. Anything to eat up his time so it seems. I never realized just how much time all the home improvement and other projects would take up once we moved, but I should’ve figured as much. So see? Better to be just friends or else I’d still be going through the same old shit I went through with him in the past as far as being neglected goes. Anyway, it’s not that I can’t get off, it’s that I simply don’t want to. Not with him anyway, but maybe someday with a woman. I can’t see it happening anytime in the near future, though, so who knows? Maybe I’ll end up celibate for the rest of my life. Not something I could’ve handled in my 20s, but now that I’m older, had the experience, and no longer find it anything new or exciting, it’s okay. I think a lot of people end up feeling as I do.

Now that I’ve learned so much about the laws out here, Larry’s damn lucky he didn’t live here in ’97, cuz believe me, I don’t think he “blacked out.” I don’t see how you can blackout just cuz you got a little cough. I really think he was on something that night if he didn’t fall asleep at the wheel, and like I said, there’s no way he’d have gotten away with it out here. They probably felt too bad for him to check for drugs or alcohol, but out here he’d have been given no pity, no mercy, no nothing. He also took it awfully hard. Any parent would have guilt, yes, but “I murdered my son, I murdered my son,” was all he kept saying for the longest time. Well, maybe he did, though certainly not intentionally.

And so it came to pass that March 13th of this year begins the beginning of the fences! Yes, for just under $100, Tom got 25 posts today and put them up at 39’ apart across the front, leaving 6’-8’ for hedges. He said that all the posts, plus the wire, should come to around $550, $100 off of my vibe of $450.

The posts have bright white paint on the tops to make them more visible to vehicles. How wonderful it was to wake up and go outside to see the first of the fences installed. Tom said digging was a piece of cake. He’s going to cement all the posts, too. He realized, though, that if next door could have their posts so far apart, so could we. Theirs is probably a good 45’ or so, though it’s in shit shape. I don’t know why, but parts of it look like someone rammed a vehicle through it. Mexicans are stupid, though, so they don’t strike me as the type to do things right. In other words, the dumb shits probably didn’t cement any of the posts. Nonetheless, digging’s so easy, he says, that it would’ve been a waste of money to get an auger. At that, I was like, oh my God! You mean we didn’t waste money buying something that was either broken or useless to us – wow!

I wonder if we keep it unlocked if anyone will be brave enough to open the gate to ask us about property for sale around here or something like that. Especially at night. I mean, I sure as hell wouldn’t open gates. I could never know what may be in there hiding, waiting to pounce on me, like maybe some Doberman from hell.

Tom’s going to try to get the green truck’s title by going directly to motor vehicles tomorrow. Only one of two things could happen. He could either end up getting the title, or he could end up getting nowhere and being forced to set up the white truck. He asked me for my vibes, but I couldn’t sense anything. That’s mainly because I’m a doom psychic. I didn’t ask to be one, but that’s my strength within the psychic world. Not sensing good things. So if tomorrow’s going to turn out good and he’s going to get the title, I could never sense it. Very rarely do I sense such things.

I don’t seem to be able to help plants either, although those who have fallen ill at my wishful thinking are still a hell of a coincidence not to be ruled out. Plus the thing with Little Buddy. Even so, it still looks like it’s going to die.

I’ve learned that when I have paper jams if I just turn the paper around, it’s usually okay. Therefore, I may return to the back-to-back printing.

Tom told me a funny joke earlier that I enclosed in my joke file, plus I sent it to Mary. We agreed it’d be okay to send something every few days. The worst that could happen is that it gets returned to me and I resend it to Florida. I got 4 regular envelopes from her today and 2 big ones.

To my surprise, she wasn’t calling for a favor or to say she was leaving. She was just calling to call but said she hung up after a few rings, realizing it was early and very expensive. That’s cool that she understands that, though the phone could never wake us up and our schedule varies. What may be “early” for me this week will probably be late for me next week. I was worried, though, that she was going to get a little too carried away with asking for favors pertaining to those I don’t know. Emailing Chuck, her lawyer, a quick note along with her book is fine. It’s when she wants me to write to people in jail that I don’t dig or if she were to send lots of letters to type for others, but as long as it’s email where I don’t have to go buying more stamps, and as long as it’s not too often, it’s no problem.

I still worry she’s going to hang out with the same types of loser cocks once she’s free. Remember, it’s that illness some people have. She has a deep, dark craving to be abused. It’s what she likes, what she wants, what she’s used to. She never even tried to fight back most of the time Justin hit her. She’d just scream at him and try to get away.

She cracked the both of us up when she was bashing guys in general, saying that because she has no discrimination, she needs me to balance things out. Well, it’s true that she loves everybody as much as I hate everybody! Also, I’m as vulgar as she is not. For every 20 hardcore swears out of my mouth, she may say the words darn or damn once, but the thing that’s really cool about us is that we let each other be themselves. I hate people like Lora Edwards who bitched how much she hated it when I’d use God’s name in vain by saying the word goddamn. Not that she didn’t have a right to not like it, but people have a right to express themselves as they see fit. That’s why I can’t get along with most people. They either expect me to be like them or they assume I’m out to make them like me.

A part of me was glad to hear she was hanging up the fantasy writing. Not because it bores me or that she’s loony (maybe a little naïve at times) or that she should be ashamed or embarrassed by anything she writes, but because I have enough typing to do with her book alone, which she just learned she can’t profit from. I knew this, but she just learned that if you’re involved in a case, you can’t make money from it, so she may use an assumed name and have the proceeds go to her family. I think she should use a fictitious name anyway because then she can legally use people’s real names without being sued. All she’d have to do is put a disclaimer on the front of the book saying she changed names (even though she didn’t) and that anybody with the names used in the book is purely coincidental.

I was surprised to hear that she was worried about not hearing from me. I thought she knew that the only reason I was laying low was cuz I figured they could move her anytime and that my mail would only end up returned to me. Tom agreed it’d be okay to send something every few days. The worst that could happen is that it gets returned to me and I resend it to Florida. So tomorrow when he goes to do the grocery shopping, I’ll have him drop a letter in a box and she should get it Sat. or Mon. if she’s still there. Anyway, I still had to laugh when she said she was going to send the paramedics out and have them search all the Maricopa ranches!

Anyway, just after sunset, Tom and I went to Circle K for snacks. Some stupid fuck pulled out in front of us and I was so grateful there wasn’t a car on the other side of us so we could jump out of the way.

As usual, we had to stop and play leak with the car before we left. The cashier who was outside on her break mentioned it. He poured water into whatever was the problem this time around. “It’s a Ford, so it’ll make it,” the woman said, and it did.

Mary didn’t try calling back, so she either was calling to say goodbye, or she wanted something and found someone else to do what she wanted.

Tom cleaned my ear out some more with the earpick. It looks like we’ll manage just fine without having to deal with referrals and specialists.

Last night and today I did something on my office wall that’s way cool, though not without disaster. I made colorful silhouettes by shadow-tracing the outlines of the two Playboy dolls and Patrice, the queen of all my ballerinas. Victoria’s in purple, Karen’s in pink and Patrice is in blue. I stacked two speakers about 4’ from the wall and placed the doll on top. Then I made another stack about a foot behind it, using Sacajawea to prop the flashlight at an angle. Then I’d turn off the light to make my shadow sharper and would trace its outline. Yesterday went fine, but tonight I moved Patrice before remembering to do the inner section of lines and had a hell of a time lining her back up, then Sacajawea fell and broke from just below the elbow down. Fortunately, it wasn’t her head and I was able to glue and tape it, but how stupid of me! I should’ve used a towel or a shirt like I did afterward. I taped it with masking tape after gluing the sections that I glued, because there were tiny fragments missing that made it sharp and unstable. Taping it gives it extra security. It doesn’t look too bad but I’d rather have a funny-looking hand than no hand at all. It’s taped between her wrist and elbow and her sleeve covers most of it.

As predicted, the truck won’t be up and running anytime soon. Tom simply can’t get the title for the green one, so he’s going to have to set the white one up.

He fixed and installed the indoor/outdoor thermometer in the kitchen. The wire runs out through the oven’s vent. It’s 50° outside now and 75° in here.

Anyway, Tom met the renters today. When he was down there searching for that corner’s property marker, which he did find, it stirred the dogs up. I like what he had to say about them but was quite dismayed to learn there are at least 7 dogs back there. 7 dogs! He said there were about 3 adult dogs and 4 puppies. He couldn’t tell if any of the adult dogs had the puppies or not. Just that he got the feeling they intend to keep them. What surprised me was that most of them came from the house. He said they’re all mutts, not too big, and only one of them that they had in a pen outside, seemed like it could be more of a guard dog. I don’t exactly like the idea of swimming (once we get the pool) to the tune of 7 dogs barking, but he says it shouldn’t be a big deal, and after thinking about it I realized that maybe it won’t be. I’ve been outside enough lately and can truly say I haven’t heard barking from over there. After all, I sure as hell didn’t know there were that many of them. I thought they only had one dog.

So anyway, he can’t remember their names. The woman appeared to be in her late 20s to early 30s and the guy was mid to late 30s. He said they seemed quite nice and even were considerate enough to worry that they put their horse on our property and that their kids might be too loud (he only saw one 3-year-old, but we figure there are probably 3 or 4 kids in all). Nothing of theirs is on our property, though you could see old tire tracks clipping a corner of the property. They haven’t been throwing trash back there either which is nice, and as for the kids, I have heard a few shouts from outside, but nothing even remotely close at this distance to bother me. They could never be as maddening as the kids screaming just a few feet away from our old house for hours at a time.

Tom told them we were getting ready to put up fences and the guy offered to help which was nice of him, but Tom assured him he could manage. Remember, we don’t want problems with our neighbors like we had in Phoenix, but we don’t want to be friends with them either. All we want is to get along. Being friends with neighbors can be as bad as being friends/lovers with coworkers. Still, I really do appreciate their consideration, and it’s people like this that I’d consider being considerate of myself. The more someone’s considerate of me, the more I am to them, whereas if the blacks or Mexicans had asked me to tone down my music, I’d have told them to come back and ask again after they themselves shut up, and meanwhile, they could go fuck themselves. No black or Mexican could ever be like them. Very few of them could be anyway. They’re too me, me, me, me!

George still owns the place, the woman does ride the horse (though I’ve never seen her do so) and they’re planning on getting another one, and they hear karaoke parties at Dan’s place on weekends, though they certainly didn’t refer to it as “Dan’s place.” We didn’t even know it was karaoke, just that it was coming from Dan’s, but they’re closer to Dan’s and don’t have the 6” walls and dual-paned windows we have, so they can hear better. At first, I thought Tom was saying it was my singing that was mentioned, but then they said they hear guys that sound drunk. Well, I don’t sound like a drunk guy when I sing and I don’t throw the doors and windows open to purposely let the sound out for others to hear!

I can see why they sacrificed their housing. With 3-4 kids, 7 dogs and soon-to-be 2 horses to feed we’d have to live in a dump, too.

The Mexicans that were in the furthest rental took and dumped a bunch of shit across the street before they moved. Yeah, those Mexies are filthy people, that’s for sure! Tom said he could see stuffed animals, clothing, etc.

The woman obviously works, Tom said, because the guy told her she ought to hurry up so she isn’t late for work. This was at 1:00, so she might work second shift.

He says they didn’t look or talk Mormon and that they thought this house was vacant because they never saw anyone outside. I know we’re not outdoors much compared to most people, but I’m surprised they didn’t see us at least a few times over the year they’ve been here.

To sum it all up, although the high dog population isn’t comforting to know about, I do hope they stick around for a while as it really seems like we’ve been compensated for the shit we had in Phoenix. I’m just so glad we didn’t get Mexicans in there what with the way the illiterate junkies are invading the country, and you how it was for me for the longest time; I always had to get the blacks and Mexicans next to me. These are our first white neighbors since ’96, aside from Dan and the people after him.

Tom got a lot of brush cleared with the chainsaw and is going to pick up some posts and a hole digger today. Then we’ll set them in cement and see how they do. We’re now thinking of going with barbless wire to make it easier on his hands. As long as the thing will keep dogs out, get what you want, I told him, but if we ever do see a dog, we’re going to install a low-voltage wire that will zap them away. That’d cost about $150 if we do need it and will probably come out of the savings account.

The bougainvillea’s still in the same condition.

I asked myself if I’d go live on a ship or a submarine right now if I could. At first I was hesitant because I wouldn’t be able to shop as much, but on the other hand, it’d be a little hard for a bunch of freeloaders to get me thrown in jail in the middle of the ocean, so yes, I’d take the ship or sub. I still worry about that, too. Not the freeloaders but somebody somewhere. I know it’s only a matter of time before someone new makes my life miserable for years.

I added a couple more silhouettes. I did one of Lily, the bronze ballerina figurine, on another wall in my office. She’s in a reddish-pink color. Then I did a silhouette of Colette in green in the retreat.