Summer has hit with a vengeance. The AC is now needed night and day. I expect our electric bill will triple itself anytime now.

I’m still waiting for Mary to tell me why Jose’s in jail and how they met. I mean, what’s the big secret and why didn’t she tell me about him sooner than she did? She says the soul mate letters pertain to him. Well, why didn’t she just say so then?

At least I’d never have to worry about her or Paula stealing Tom from me, not that he’d allow himself to be stolen. It’s just that Tom’s too nice for Mary and too white for Paula.

In Mary’s letter that I got yesterday, she says it’s so noisy where she is and she’s always tired. She’s now sorry she came to Florida and says she’d take the peace at Estrella over the shit she’s living with now, despite the better treatment. It really sucks that she has to live through it with no radio to help drown some of it out. I agree with her; I’d take the quiet over the better treatment. Hell, I’d take Estrella simply for the radio alone if I had to be in one place or the other.

She finally confirmed that no, she doesn’t have all the poems and affirmations, so I’m going to send her all her non-book stuff, plus some book stuff to hopefully close some of the gaps.

I still continue to sneeze and have a stuffy nose every day of my life. It really gets old, but I know there’s nothing I can do about it. At least the nasal spray keeps me from sneezing non-stop for up to 24 hours like I used to.

As I was sifting through a joke site with jokes geared towards various groups of people, I was surprised to find just how many people feel as I do about certain groups. I guess it’s just because Arizona’s so pro-minority that it makes you feel like you’re the only one that’s anti-minority, or better yet, as I should say, for equality. I was like, where were all these people when virtually every person in this state was kicking my ass with the poor, poor black shit, never questioning the blacks’ credibility for an instant? People not only exchange jokes here, but they bitch about being joked about, and then those that joke about them bitch about them bitching. Someone asked a damn good question – why are they there if they don’t like what they read?

Anyway, the more I learn about them, the more prejudiced I become. They weren’t even actual slaves in the way they want us to believe they were. They were sent here willingly by their own people in Africa and whatever other countries they came from. I’m sorry they decided they had such a rough time here and didn’t like it in the end, but then why didn’t they go home once they were freed? I guess they preferred to stick around and get revenge on us.

And I too, am sick of the reverse discrimination no one wants to address. They’re just too damn busy addressing us picking on them, whether or not we’re really even doing so. When we want to honor our white heritage or have a white TV channel or a white whatever, we’re mean, evil racists, but it’s okay for them to flaunt their color and have their black pageants, black TV and radio stations, etc.

Later…

Tom just left for work. He asked me if I had any bad vibes when I got up and I told him no. He said he had vibes about someone in his family dying, then said that maybe it was someone in my family, though we wouldn’t find out right away.

“We wouldn’t ever find out, not that I’d care to know. We don’t keep in contact,” I said.

“But I’m sure they’re still exchanging holiday cards with my mother and would send a letter there, figuring you’re still part of the family,” he said.

“Well, that’d be a strange thing to figure after all the years I’ve ignored them. How many more years of silence would they need to figure out that I’m not a part of the family? And why would I care to know who died? Like what could I do about it?”

It makes no sense for them to exchange cards when they barely know each other and when they know I want nothing to do with them. I think they’re just doing it to get information. I know that somehow, someway, they know every single thing that’s gone on in my life since I dumped them, just like I know they used Kim to spy on me and report back to them. They probably even paid her to do it, too. My folks have always been just about the most persuasive people I’ve ever known. I don’t know why they’re so damn obsessed with me and my life, but I try not to let it bother me. It’s not like they could use anything they could know against me, but I do thoroughly regret giving them mom’s address.

Tom claims he doesn’t think Mom’s answering any of their cards since she can’t write, and I did ask her not to contact them, but I don’t know. She’s proven herself long ago to be a very selfish woman who will put her own desires before others. Besides, if she couldn’t send them updates and whatever pictures they have, Mary could, which strikes me as something she’d do out of sheer spite. Mary doesn’t like me any more than I like her, but the difference is that she can’t make me sick like I can make her sick! Yes, Tom talked to her earlier and she’s still having her problems. The stomach flu was the latest. Ha, ha, ha!

You’ll never get better, Mary, never!

Anyway, I know I should tell myself that if they’ve just got to gossip and swap info – fine. Let them. They can’t hurt me. I don’t ever have to see or talk to these people again. Never again can or will they take from me or hurt me in any way shape or form. They lost that power years ago.

In other news, the renters have a ton of company but have remained pleasantly quiet. Voices can sometimes be heard outside the house, but that’s about all. There are like 6 different vehicles there right now. I still look forward to blocking them out. They take a lot of our privacy.

Later…

The more I think about it, the more of a nagging feeling I’ve got that says Doe and Art are fishing for info, and who knows how much Mom or Mary are giving them? See, what bothers me so much about the idea isn’t that I’m ashamed of anything they might find out about me or that they could use the information against me, but that they’ve used spies to keep them up to date before. It’s like an obsession they can’t let go of. Who they are also makes it an unsettling idea, too. If it were an ex-friend, lover or an old teacher, then I wouldn’t care so much cuz they didn’t put me through 32 years of hell. Having suffered so much abuse on account of these people makes it more unnerving. It’d be like Mom exchanging cards with an old boyfriend of Mary’s who abused her before she met Dave. That’s how uncomfortable I am with the idea. I wish Tom could get through to them, if they truly are answering any mail from them they may receive, that while they can’t control what they may get from them, they could at least stop writing them because of how it makes me feel. I don’t want these people to know a damn thing about me. I don’t want them hearing my name, getting updates, getting pictures, etc. There’s no reason they should get any mail from Arizona at all. They are strictly in the past. People I knew long ago along with thousands of others who have come and gone in my lifetime. They don’t need to “keep tabs” on me, nor do I wish to know a damn thing about them. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t care if they were happy, sad, healthy, sick, dead or alive. Their lives are their lives and mine’s mine. If I wanted to associate with them, I would’ve called them a long time ago. This isn’t just about their evil deeds being unforgivable, it’s about keeping myself unavailable to them to abuse again. They may not be able to punish me by taking away my stereo and they may not be able to label me a nut as soon as they get fed up with my uniqueness and have me funny farmed and drugged, but I’d still have to listen to them try to control me verbally. I’d still have to be pulled in the middle of the he-said-she-said bullshit, and every time I’d hear and see them, I’d be reminded of just what they stand for and what they’ve done to me. I have enough horrible memories of them as it is. I simply cannot be connected to anyone who has harmed me the way they did. I have a little more self-respect than that. Besides, they’re just not my type. Meaning, I simply have nothing in common with them, Tammy or anyone they know.

Having spies report to them is nothing new. They used Kim as a spy and I know they’ve had their little spies in Springfield, too. Also, think they wanted me to move down to Connecticut cuz they thought I’d have such a wonderful life there? No way. They wanted me there where their favorite daughter could give them my life story. Or at least her version of it anyway. I don’t know why it’s always been so important to them to know what’s going on with me, but it’s always been that way. They always, always know my business. Always. I don’t know if it’s just boredom within their own lives that makes them want to stick their noses into other people’s lives or what, but it really bothers me. Andy was that way, too. His own life wasn’t very entertaining at all, so he made his life other people’s lives by gossiping about everything they’d say and do.

Another thing that stands out in my mind pertains to Mary. When we were over there one day, I asked her not to share our number or address or any info about us. Instead of getting something like, “No problem,” or, “Sure,” or “Okay,” or some kind of comment, I got nothing. She just kind of looked downward with a strange look. I don’t know if I could call it a guilty look, but it sure made me wonder at the time if she might’ve known something I didn’t.