This is the week I hope to get my doll. We did get those Carol Wainwright gifts. We got the little two-sided skillet for making pancakes, though I’ve only used it so far to make pork chops since we don’t have any pancake batter at this time. It’s way easier to clean than the grill Mary and Dave got us for Christmas.

I also got a paper puncher for making decorative border stationery, clamps to keep sheets from slipping, tongs to reach things that are up high, a gorgeous necklace with clip-on earrings that aren’t at all uncomfortable like I thought they might be, and two awesome wind chimes. They’re more like decorative mobiles, than wind chimes, though, as they don’t make any sounds and were specially made for the indoors. The kitchen one is dazzling crystals hanging from gold threads, and the bedroom one is a glow-in-the-dark celestial design with suns, moons and stars. They glow really well at night for hours on end. In the daytime, they’re just a dull yellowish-cream color. I still want to paint ceiling stars with glow-in-the-dark paint. I think that’d look awesome. As I told Tom, we won’t tell the next people in here whenever we do sell. We’ll let them settle into bed for their first night and get the surprise of their lives! Assuming there are kids in here too, since most singles and couples wouldn’t get a house this big, they’ll get a surprise too, as we’ll probably do my office and his room as well.

We ordered a couple of CDs. One’s for me that contains a song I’ve been trying to get for ages of Merrie Amsterburg’s as an MP3 but have had no luck. Another’s a rock band that Tom ordered as part of an introductory membership offer. After he pays for this we’ll get 11 freebies.

We also ordered a $10 fairy. This one will be assembled, though.

So we’re expecting the doll, the fairy, the CDs, and soon we’ll be getting mugs and those ballerina ornaments.

Last grocery day I had Tom pick up scented toilet paper. I saw a commercial for it where the roll is scented with wildflowers and it’s way, way nice! The smell lasts a long while too, and you don’t get used to it like you tend to with other scented things. By the third day of having those scent cartridges that you plug in, you stop smelling them unless you stick your nose right up to them.

Tom’s got most of the AC put together in the truck, but doesn’t know yet if it’ll work. He ran into a frustrating problem that he hasn’t figured out yet, so that throws yet another kink in things.

Anyway, I finally heard from both Mary and Bob.

Bob enclosed a monthly menu, and as I told him, it looked great compared to what I’d get in jail. His menu had a huge variety, whereas at Estrella, all you got was chicken, burritos, slop and hotdogs. He complained about how all they got was chicken and I remember wishing so much of the time that that was all we’d get instead of hotdogs 3 or 4 times a week.

He also said something about them putting you away for life if they even think you might commit another sex crime (so who knows when he’s getting out?). He asked for more pictures and assured me there was no picture limit, though Polaroids aren’t allowed. He even asked for a song I wrote. I’ve got a letter, pictures and lyrics on their way to him.

Mary didn’t get the computer printout on José and why the jail hasn’t returned them to me, beats me. I thought they were supposed to return rejected mail unless obviously, it was drugs or something illegal. However, she’s quite thrilled because she at least got his address when I enclosed it in a separate envelope. She sent a few letters home for me to piggyback after I found and added his booking number. I assured her I’d piggyback the letters, but that she should watch her postage. As it was I had to add a stamp to each one.

She sent a book of stamps, promising to send more, but I told her to forget it because she’s really struggling. They’ve been taking $3 off her books each day and she’s even got herself down to washing her hair only once a week. Anyway, I don’t want her putting herself out. Meanwhile, she said she could get on Jose’s mailing list at some point, whatever that means. I guess they keep a list of fellow inmates who write to each other. For now, all I have to do is drop the stamped envelopes into the box along with our own outgoing mail.

Other than that, she says her bunkie’s cool, but the girls there in general are scandalous and do quite a bit of fighting.

Tom and I have read together in bed, but as expected, he hasn’t been interested in anything more than that. I don’t know, I guess it’s just very hard for a man, as opposed to a woman, to admit when they don’t have any desires. It’s ok, though, as my own desires are quite dormant. They only ignite in fantasy or in real life if the young Kate Jackson were to walk in here right now, but since that one’s not going to happen, I’m content to just close my eyes and imagine. I don’t feel the sexual attraction towards Tom that I do for certain women. It doesn’t mean he’s ugly. I just don’t feel any sparks. Besides, I’ve become so used to the idea of us as “married friends,” that anything more would feel rather awkward.

We haven’t done anything about the job issue as there’s nothing we really can do till Wednesday when Tom has an appointment with the discrimination people. With God hell-bent on protecting those who wrong us, I can’t see us getting a significant settlement, but I don’t have any bad vibes, either. In fact, I don’t sense anything either way. Neither of us does or is sure what to think at this point till he starts talking with some people and seeing what they have to say. We tell ourselves, as far as the bank people are concerned, people aren’t that stupid. They’re not going to so easily put themselves out to get at someone else simply because they complained, but we both know from past experience, that oh yes they are that stupid, and oh yes they would put themselves out to get at others.

Either way, Tom’s boss should be nice and sick by now. I told him, “See? You didn’t just marry a psychic, you married a witch, one who can be hazardous to people’s health when they get naughty on us.” He laughed at that one.

Later…

We went to Circle K a while ago because Tom wanted some soda and some snacks. While we were at it, I grabbed this glow-in-the-dark wand that I thought was like my mobile where it absorbs light and glows, but this is different. It’s a flair-like liquid that glows for a while after you’ve cracked its seal. I used to get these things as a kid at the beach.

On the way back, one of the cashiers pulled out ahead of us and we made a bet as to which direction she’d turn. If she turned right, the colored paper that I want to restock up on had to come out of Tom’s allowance, and if she turned left, I had to buy Tom a car part for that same price, like some sort of dashboard decoration or something. Well, unfortunately, she turned left.

As we pulled back onto our land, we checked out the latest crap that blew over from next door which was a Halloween pail. This time, though, it’s actually something Tom could use. He’ll use it for greasy car parts that he doesn’t want to set down in the dirt.

Anyway, yesterday wasn’t the greatest. I not only had a killer allergy attack that went on for hours and hours, but I was actually a bit sad for a while, too. It was a bit odd because when I get depressed, it’s usually for a reason. However, I couldn’t seem to pinpoint the source of my sadness, not that I necessarily could’ve done anything about it had I known the source. Tom said he had the same experience a few days earlier where he was all bummed out, but never did figure out why. Nonetheless, I was so glad when I got over it as depression, to me, is the worst emotion there is. I’d rather be stressed out and pissed off every day before I was sad once a week.

Tom had a point, though, when he said we all have to have our sad days because if we were happy all the time, we wouldn’t have anything to contrast it with. This is true, and perhaps the reason I’ve been so happy since we moved (with the exception of jail) is that most of my life was so miserable. Most people would probably find my life rather dull, but because of all the shit I’ve endured, it’s heaven to me, for the most part. Being in jail really can be a life-changing experience. I think that jail has not only made me appreciate simple things more but it’s really enforced my lack of desire to have a child too, because after you’ve been locked up like that, you don’t want to give up your freedom and life.

I’ve come a long way, though. Several years ago I had so many depressing, frustrating issues that I thought would never get resolved or go away. I had a joke of a sex life (for the most part), I wanted this kid I could never have, I wanted to quit smoking and couldn’t, I had neighbors a few feet away who wouldn’t shut up, I had an old, small house I didn’t really like, and so on and so forth.

Later…

While I was browsing through another gift catalog he was going through Maricopa’s little newspaper. They’re thinking of incorporating the town what with the way it’s building up. We had to laugh at the crime section. I mean, you could tell it was in a small town. Let’s see, someone poisoned a dog, no doubt because it wouldn’t shut up, someone stole a new door off of a new house, ran over or stole a few mailboxes, and even got arrested for disorderly conduct and playing loud music. It’s a good thing the freeloaders don’t live out here! All their music and partying would end them up in some real trouble for damn sure. I’m really surprised, though. I know shit doesn’t fly as well in a small town and that everything’s a no-no in this state, but loud music always seemed such a way of life out here.

We saw a picture of this year’s graduating class of just 40 students, too.

Anyway, Tom knows that like most discrimination cases, it’ll be virtually impossible to prove the discrimination aspect of it, but it’s part of our new we-don’t-take-shit motto we’ve vowed to live up to. It’ll still be dragging them through the mud to have to be asked questions and investigated while bringing the issue to attention in connection with the bank, something they don’t need.

I’m also sticking more firmly to my treat-others-as-they-treat-me motto, even if that means it’s my husband who has to get a taste of his own medicine. As I’ve said before, I feel he’s partially blamed me for the nig shit we suffered through for over half a decade, like when he said, “No, it wasn’t fair what you got, but had you never sent the journals, none of this would’ve happened.”

So, in return I hit him with: “I’m not saying you deserved what you got, but if you hadn’t complained, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

He said, “No we wouldn’t, but I had to stand up for what I felt was right.”

So did I. And I felt I had the right, under the so-called freedom of speech laws that don’t really exist, to give the freeloaders a piece of my mind. Only difference is he got fired for it and I got thrown in jail. Either way, I wanted him to know what it was like.

There could be more to this situation than I know of and that he’s willing to tell me. For example, I once came around the corner when he was in his office on the phone with someone connected to the bank and I heard him say, “Well, if that’s not doing my job…,” then he saw me and waved me away.

Tom, by nature, is very rebellious which is part of why he wouldn’t cum when I wanted him to. The more you try to force him to go right, the more he’s going to tend to veer left. This could very well be a case of him being told to do things he didn’t want to do that stem beyond the protest of religious activities.

With Tom, it’s usually best to play down the desire and urgency of things. For example, the more I made like I wanted the kiln real bad and in a major hurry, the more he’d be to find reasons why it had to be delayed.

We might invite Meagan and Stacie out to visit. Maybe do a barbecue or something. I know they’re just kids, but who knows who I may meet through them and Tom always thought they were cool, so we’ll see. Besides, wasn’t it me who said it’d be nice to have some gay friends for once? I haven’t had gay friends since ’99. Then again, I don’t know about meeting potential playmates. All they’re gonna do is play with my head and give me phony phone numbers because they can’t just say no, I’m not interested, and truthfully, I don’t want to go back to playing games with people. I’m short, I’m feminine, and everything most women don’t want.

After a few days of putting oil in my fake ear canal, Tom managed to pull out a huge chunk of dead skin like the doctor used to. Yes, we can definitely take care of it on our own which is a good thing. Having to see specialty doctors really sucks with the way you have to wait forever and go through the hassles of getting referrals.