Today should be our last motel day. We hope anyway! Then our 6-month duplex sentence can begin almost exactly to the date of the sicko’s sentence. However, I hope this will hardly end up being a “sentence” as opposed to 6 months in jail. It’ll mainly depend on the neighbors. With dogs being such a popular pet, I’m hoping the fact that because 3 people all under the same management don’t have them means they’re not allowed. I don’t know, though, because Pam never said anything about dogs not being allowed, and neither did the write-up about the place. Besides, almost any place will let you have dogs with a decent deposit, as Tom said.

I just hope we can get in, and, since it’s going to be years before we can own anything, if we ever do, I hope it’ll be nice enough there to stay put for a long, long time. I’m really tired of having my life turned upside down. It’s been nearly a year and a half now since that sick fuck fired Tom and we’re still paying for it. I’m beginning to wonder if we’re going to pay for it for 7 years just like with the sicko’s shit. Why can’t our problems ever be short-term? Days, weeks, even a few months, for that matter. Instead, they’re always years.

There’s both good news and bad news. The bad is that for the millionth time, we’ve been put out, thanks to other people fucking up. The stupid shits at the satellite company had billed our credit card even after we canceled with them. We got the money back, but while they were busy taking what was supposed to be our storage money, the storage people couldn’t get their money, so they put an extra lock on our door. See what I mean about others always, always making life hard for us, fucking us over, putting us out, hassling us to death? Because of some stranger we don’t even know in another state, we couldn’t get the dolls yesterday. Tom wrote them a check and they say they’ll take the lock off. So today’s attempt #3 to get the damn dolls. If he doesn’t return today with them, I’m going to seriously wonder if something up there doesn’t want me selling them. It definitely hasn’t wanted me to sell much of anything as of yet.

The good news is that we decided we are getting into this duplex either way. Then, if God could stop sending people to fuck us over, maybe we’ll get ahead at least for a little while.

He’s going to sign a 6-month lease instead of a year, though if it’s going to be years before we can own again, I’d rather just stay put. However, I know God will see to it that it gets noisy sooner or later to keep me on the move. I’m also still hesitant about ever owning again. It’s a lot easier to get evicted from an apartment than it is to lose a house/land.

Got a Bob letter yesterday. Now here’s something that’d be too good to be true. He has a court case pending, which I assume pertains to his case that could net him $65,000,000, and a malpractice suit that could net him a million. I know he’ll never win a dime, but it’s nice to know that if he did, he’d give us a huge sum of money after getting himself a lung transplant. But I thought he said he’d been turned down by everyone regarding his case. I asked him to tell me more about it, and also not to get his hopes up either. The prisoner almost never wins. Since we don’t live in a perfect world, every case has its magic button that would be an automatic release from jail/prison or even a huge settlement, but finding that button and proving whatever point needs proving, is next to impossible. Still, it’s nice to know he’d be generous enough to see us set for life if he did win big.

No one’s been next to us the last couple of nights. It’s been pretty quiet.

Later…

I sold both Ciara and Samantha! I only got $130 for them, but that’s better than nothing, and any little bit helps. It took us a while to prep Ciara. I had to get her dressed, work the ponytail holder out of her hair without messing up her curls, and Tom had to fix her necklace. Its elastic stretched really bad, so he had to break the clasp off, break off the excess thread, then tie it back on.

When we first brought them over, all 4 of them came out and lined up behind the counter like a panel of judges. I didn’t realize they’d make it a family event, but Tom, who knows a bit about Indian culture, explained to me that that was part of their ways. Tina can’t buy anything without Raj there or go cruising around by herself to stores, which I don’t think is fair. He also told me that they teach them English in school, and the reason the parents don’t speak it is that they didn’t teach them English back then. It didn’t become part of their education until around 30 years ago. That explains why Tina said her sister-in-law’s English wasn’t too good for being in the country for only a year. I had thought it was actually pretty damn good for just a year and was wondering how she could’ve learned it so fast.

Anyway, when they entered the office, they began talking in Indian. How I wish I could’ve understood! I was a little worried by their expressions at first, thinking they weren’t all that impressed, but then she asked if I’d accept the $130 and I readily agreed. As much as we need money, I wasn’t about to argue, even though I paid a total of $250 for them. I enjoyed Ciara during the Maricopa years, so she’s pretty “used.” Meanwhile, she took up too much space with her wide-skirted gown, and like Samantha, wasn’t that great.

I was also worried they might not take them both, thinking they were too much the same – blond hair, blue eyes, light blue dresses.

So we get to leave the motel and Ciara and Samantha get to stay. God help her when that kid is able to get around and knock them over!

In other news, I got a letter from Paula. Wow, 3 letters in less than 6 months! I’m impressed. She says Miguel’s still history. I don’t understand why she asks how the land and RV are. Hasn’t she been getting my letters? Nonetheless, her letter was very nice. She asked how Tom was and all that, too.

Anyway, I can’t wait to get into the duplex and get settled and get our stuff off the land and out of storage. As it is, Michael sent a letter ordering us to pay up or else! Tom’s going to send a letter with a bogus story saying that Bob threatened us off the land, then accuse Michael of running a scam of having people buy his land, then send someone to run them off in fear for their lives. That’ll serve his ass right too, if he was the one who complained about us, though nothing ever happened pertaining to that. Either someone else complained and got ignored, or he was just playing with us to ruffle our feathers. Some people are like that. They wake up and say to themselves, “Let’s see who we can rile up today.”

We’re still cursed with leaks, sluggish toilets and foul smells. Their pipes here run under the rooms. There’s a wet area by where I’m sitting that always smells damp and mildewy. The question is what will leak/stink in the duplex? They gave us a checklist sheet so we could do a walk-through and make sure everything was okay, but with my shit luck, there’ll be problems that someone will have to come over to tend to for God knows how many days.

I can’t believe my plants are still alive. Not after the cold spells we’ve had. I just don’t see how they could have survived it. I decided that with all the moving we do, I’d rather buy this really nice fake palm I saw at Fred Meyer at some point. It’s $105, but it won’t need light, won’t shift, won’t die, won’t need watering.

I still don’t know if Tina will want the dolls because Tom couldn’t make it to storage yesterday. He needed to call Pacific Power to find out how much of a deposit they require. The good news is that just like back east, they require nothing. This still doesn’t mean we’re going to get the duplex for sure, though it’s what we’re shooting for. We did, however, look at some of Tina’s kitchenettes, in case we don’t get what we want, as usual. I thought there was only one layout, but I was wrong. The room on the very end had 3 beds, so that’s out. There were a couple with 2 beds that aren’t quite in separate rooms, but more like separate areas. It also has a tub in its bathroom. The rooms stunk like hell and were filthy, thanks to all the little Mexies, so I couldn’t stand to be in them for long. It’s going to take poor Raj and his dad ages to get all those rooms cleaned and the stench out of them. The bathrooms smelled like the disgusting animals pissed on the floors and walls rather than in the toilet. They’re coming back too, in December. According to Tina, they come every few months. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to us if we got trapped here for a few months, since we’d save a fair amount of money, but not only did I not come here to live in motels, I don’t want to do what I did down in Arizona and live with a bunch of shitheads all over again. They weren’t as wild as I thought they’d be, but they weren’t always quiet either.

Later…

Looks like it’s snowing again. It did that yesterday too, leaving a light dusting on the ground. It was visible when I went to the store this morning, then it melted, and now it’s coming down again. Tom was standing out in it yesterday evening, saying how cool it was. You’re insane, I told him!

Blondie’s been out since early this morning. He’s spent most of his time sleeping on the bed and the nightstand.

I wish I knew what was going on! Are we going to the duplex? Staying here? Questions, questions, questions, but never any answers! How I miss the days of stability and security! I’m so sick of struggling! I tell myself to learn to live with it because that’s just what we’re meant to do. I know we’ll always be scraping pennies and having to do without this and do without that, so I guess I better get used to it. I just want a place to live is all. Then I’ll get used to struggling.

We were both quite impressed with the duplex. It was bigger and in good condition for its age. We’re guessing it was built in the 60s or 70s. It’s on Shasta Way, a nice street name as opposed to all the numbered streets they have which are boring. It seems like it may be ideal for us, but the catch is that we may not be able to come up with the money by the weekend so we could move in this Saturday. They want more of a deposit up front than Tom thought they wanted. I don’t know if Pam, the woman who showed us the place, withheld this from him or if there was a misunderstanding or if she decided she didn’t like me now that she had a chance to meet me and came up with a higher sum as a deterrent or what. We need another BOA check since the immortal queen bitch isn’t about to help! Besides, it’s too late. We needed her 7 weeks ago. Even if the selfish fuck sent out a check today, we wouldn’t get it in time.

I don’t want to get into describing it too much in case we don’t make it in, but it was nice, alright. And huge, too. Maybe about half of our old house, at close to 1000 square feet. It looks smaller from the road because it’s sort of L-shaped, though each line of the L is the same length, and part of it stretches out towards the back. As I said, if we have to be stuck in the city, it seems ideal. I just wonder if God’s going to be like, “Nope, I’m not going to let you find the money to get in, it’ll be too quiet.” On the other hand, He could make sure we didn’t get in just because it’s a nice place since there is the potential for trouble. Again, it all depends on who the surrounding tenants are. Right now, no one in the immediate area has dogs, but if the neighbors decided to get one, it’d be literally right outside our window. More so than in Phoenix. There are two duplexes. The backyard of the one to our left faces the bedroom and bath. They’re on the corner, facing whatever the nearest side street is. This one’s currently rented by a mother and her daughter, the daughter being on one side with the mom on the other. They have cats that were in the window at the time we went out back, but no dogs. Of course, it goes without saying that if next door got a dog, it would be worse, because if it was big and mean it could run up to us when we went out back. There’s a grid fence, however, blocking off the yard that the mother and daughter share. The front isn’t fenced, but because it’s on a slight incline, there’s a short concrete wall dividing the front yards that tapers off towards the road as the land levels out. There are trees and shrubs by some of the windows. One tree in back is an apple tree! I’m not big on apples, but it’s still cool to have. There’d be plenty of places in front and back to hang the wind chimes, and there doesn’t appear to be a cellar or a crawl space under the place, so that’s good. The other duplex clearly has one because we could see vents. It’s also laid out differently and they don’t have garages. The backyard isn’t square. It’s sort of wider by the duplex. There’s a clothesline on the other side and an old shed that no one uses. It’s pretty rundown without any real doors or windows anyway. I couldn’t tell if there were other backyards behind this one or if it was the fronts of other houses. The two duplexes are on the same lot which is about a third of an acre.

The exterior is a peachy pink color or more like a dark coral. The color I’d have painted the dome.

Inside, the carpet is brand new and very nice for a neutral color. It’s a sculpted carpet in shades of tan and brown. It’s better than plain brown, even carpet. The kitchen floor was nice too, with little rosettes. It’s pretty much laid out where the garage, bath and bedroom form one part of the L, and the living room, kitchen and utility form the other, though not back to back. When you walk in the front, you’re at the left end of the long living room which extends towards the right, where the neighbor is. Behind the living room, from left to right, is a small dining area, the kitchen, then the utility where the back door is located. There’s a washer/dryer hookup in this area, too. If you walk in the front door, walk forward towards the dining area, then hang a left, you come to a set of linen cabinets just outside the bathroom. The bathroom’s pretty nice, from what I saw. I didn’t run any faucets or flush the toilet to see how they worked, but what I liked about the bathroom was that there were not only cabinets under the sink, but drawers, too. In the back, stretching straight back towards the back of the property is the enormous bedroom. Its back wall has closets with built-in drawers underneath! Something someone with no furniture could definitely use.

The kitchen was small, though bigger than Phoenix. I just can’t believe it’s all just $435! It’d be twice that much in Phoenix and Massachusetts.

The garage was nice too, because it had shelves along the back. The neighbor doesn’t seem to park in her garage, from what we’ve seen. Maybe she’s got a lot of junk in it. One thing we already do know about her is that she is a complainer. Pam said the people who last lived there played loud music and that she complained about it, though that’s a legit complaint. The question is, will she complain about my singing, too? I wouldn’t think she could hear it with me in the bedroom, though she would if she were out back when I was singing. I would seriously have to wonder about anyone who complained about that because there’d be no obnoxious bass or drums thumping along with it since I’d have headphones on, and it’s not like I do it for hours at a time. She is, though, described as “very nice,” and she does appear to be home all the time. She obviously doesn’t do no 9:00 to 5:00, because her car was out front when we arrived just before 5:00. I get the feeling she’s either retired, living off a pension from a deceased husband, or maybe even alimony. If she’s like most people, she has the TV going whenever she’s up and about which would help to mask any sounds we may make. As long as we don’t have to hear her TV and she doesn’t pester us, we’ll be okay. I just hope she won’t move if she is a good neighbor. All the good ones always move! We didn’t hear a peep out of her while we were there, but that may’ve been because she turned her TV off so she could eavesdrop out of curiosity as we still don’t know how thick those walls are. He thinks they’re pretty thick because the roof levels are a couple of feet off in height due to the little incline. I’m surprised she didn’t come out when we pulled up the driveway. The driveways are at opposite ends, but still, I’d think she’d have heard the doors. Especially if she were in her living room.

Tom and I were laughing at how Pam had said the neighbor was his age. Well, he looks a little older than 47. He looks early 50s. Pam, who appears to be right around 50, said she thought the neighbor might be older than her, so that would put her in her early 50s. Tom doesn’t think she’ll be as quick to move if she is.

I like how there aren’t a million huge windows throughout the place, which have mini-blinds. Instead, there are windows that are higher up on the wall and wider than they are long. I also like how each room has its own wall heater and thermostat.

The back doors are side by side, but I figure she won’t be going out back much. I hope no one in these two duplexes will for that matter, and that they’ll be more front-yard oriented to lessen the chances of my singing being heard and them starting trouble.

In the garage were trash cans. They do a pickup every Friday so long as you don’t put out anything more than a 32-gallon container.

The owner takes care of the lawn, though we have to water it (there’s a hose in back). Not now, though, with the snow and rain. I don’t know if I’ll like lawnmowers buzzing around once a week for half a year as I don’t know if the fan could drown that out if I were asleep.

There is fairly heavy traffic on the street, but it’s no problem at all. It’s actually sort of soothing like the highway traffic is here. Plus, there’s no light for them to have to stop at. They just whiz by. There are a lot of car stereos, though.

The only dog in the area we’re aware of is across the street. It was fenced in back and could get around to the side. We wouldn’t hear it in the house, though, unless it was out barking in the dead of night and we were in the living room. I guess it’s just a Western thing, but people with dogs simply won’t take them indoors unless they absolutely have to, so that’d be my biggest concern living there; someone getting a dog that they wouldn’t take inside unless it was under 20˚. The good in it, though, is that we’d know who to call if they did, though I don’t know if it’d do us any good. For now, I just hope we get in there this weekend!

Later…

Maybe we will get in this weekend, thanks to Tina. I’m excited to say that she may be interested in both Samantha and Ciara, but almost certainly Ciara. I went down and filled Tina in on our current predicament, then I told her about my big Ciara doll I was willing to sell for $100. Remembering I could access my online photo album, I showed her and Raj (that’s her husband’s name) pictures of her after she spoke to him about it, since he handles the finances. She explained the situation to him in Hindi. They were impressed with her picture. They seem to really like blue-eyed blondes, which I guess makes sense. Most people seem to like/want what they don’t have. I guess that’s why I like darker eyes, hair and skin. After they checked her out, Raj’s parents checked her out, too. They also liked what they saw.

I also told them a little about the incense. Of course, I had trouble understanding them at times because of their accent, and they had trouble understanding me at times, not just because I’m American, but because of the traces of Bostonian in my accent. Even growing up on the other side of Massachusetts, we still get touches of that side’s accent in some of our words/vowels. Anyway, Tina likes the smell of roses, so I think that once we’re settled and I make an incense order, I’ll grab a 20-pack of Rose for her for just a couple of bucks, plus offer her some of the acrylic and wire pop-up burners we have.

Blondie was climbing up my leg and onto my lap for attention from time to time, but now it’s time for a nightstand nap. He loves to lounge on smooth, hard surfaces.

Tina is very excited about the idea of us staying in one of her rooms with a kitchenette for $650 a month, saying I could choose any room I wanted, but as I told her, we really do hope to get this duplex because we need more space. It’s nice to know it’s an option, though, for if worse came to worst. At least her kitchenettes are roomy, in good shape, with internet access and good people running the place. However, we need more room, I’d like to have at least more than one room that isn’t a kitchen or a bathroom, and I’d like a place to sing without an audience if I can help it. Still, I told her we’d keep it in mind and that I’d get her incense to her eventually, wherever I am.

Then I remembered Samantha. She’s of the same coloring as Ciara. Even wears light blue, too. I left a message for Tom to get both dolls out of storage and they’re going to check them both out. I’m going to offer them both as a package deal for $150. We know right where Samantha and Ciara are, but hopefully, he won’t have to tear the place apart too much to find Ciara’s gown and stand. Their certificates are in the truck.

I realized what was taking them so long to clean the rooms yesterday; they wanted to do a thorough job after the farming scumbags no doubt trashed them and left them filthy.

I don’t know if I could kick myself more for checking Maricopa’s weather like I just did, or for moving here! It’s 23˚ here right now yet it’s 59˚ in Maricopa. Their 10-cast is to be much like the summer was here. Some of their lows are higher than our highs! Tina’s father-in-law is bundled up warmly and even has a knit cap on. If I were still friends with Andy, he’d be laughing at me like we’d laugh at others, assuming he’s still in Arizona.

Anyway, I slept well last night. After the initial crash-in next door, all went quiet.

They got the electronic door locks fixed, so we don’t have to keep getting our key cards reactivated. I guess it was unfair of me to blame that one on their stupidity. For one, the more I get to know them, the more I see that they’re not stupid, they just don’t know a lot of English. Secondly, the problem the locks had wasn’t their fault.

I see and hear bigoted messages everywhere lumping same-sex marriages with school violence, poverty, etc., and it’s like – why are people so dumb and blind?!?! They’re picking on the wrong group of people. They’re not the ones running around rioting, shooting people, selling drugs every chance they get while they collect welfare checks and disrupt as many lives as they can.

The Mexie farmers are gone, so that’s good. It’s totally dead out there. Not one car in sight. The grills are gone, too.

I’ve really got to cut my calories again. I just can’t eat what I want and get away with it, even if I exercise. I can feel it in my pants. My pants are tighter, my ring is tighter, and I look like shit. I’m huge around the middle with a neck practically down to my chest. I just don’t see how people late in their pregnancies stand it. How do they get around? How do they breathe? I saw a woman on TV that was so fat, she appeared to have no neck. When you looked straight at her, her neck was as wide as her cheeks. Now that took guts; going on TV like that.

If people would stop turning our lives upside down every few years, maybe I can finally stick to a good regimen. I know it’s going to mean being hungry all the time, but I think the results will be worth the hunger. For a while I didn’t care, but I’m getting rather sick of being a blimp. As soon as we get settled and can finally fall into a routine, I want to step on the diet and exercise thing. Well, I’m already back on the exercise routine, so just the diet needs to be added in. I want to do it to save money, too.

Later…

I’m both excited and apprehensive about seeing the duplex today, but hey, we gotta live somewhere. For now, we go wherever God puts us till we can finally get some control over our lives for once and for all and get land and a house we can’t lose. At least not in 5 years like in Maricopa or in a few months like with the land here. I don’t know what state it’ll be in or how many years it’ll take, but not even God can keep us in rentals forever!

Still, I get the nagging feeling we’re here for a special reason, but what that reason is, I do not know. Sure most of it is simply because I don’t want to be here and because I don’t want to listen to other people, but there’s some other reason, too. I just hope it’s good, whatever it is! Anyway, whenever we do get a house, we’re just going to make sure we don’t go overboard. We’ll get 1-5 acres instead of 10. We’ll get a 1000-1600-square-foot house instead of a 2100-square-foot house.

Anyway, it’s been a quiet day here so far, but I don’t like how they’re taking all day to do the room. At 8:30 they got my sheets and at 10:30 they made the bed. Meanwhile, they still have to vacuum and put liners in the pails.

I hope the woman who’s going to show us the duplex isn’t one of those who’s always late, leaving us to wait for an hour for her to show up.

Tom came home from work Friday with a wonderful treat for me. A handful of incense sticks from a store he stopped at to ask about selling pieces of turquoise that we got from the queen years ago. It’s a little smoky, but it lingers well and is way better than your department store crap. Not quite as good as Incense Galore, though, but certainly good enough. He got Patchouli and Jasmine, which he knows I like, along with Opium and Kiwi. I wasn’t at all impressed with the Kiwi, and the Opium was just so-so. Still, the place smelled so stale and I missed my nose treats, that his timing was perfect. I always love having incense around.

When I awoke the next morning (yesterday morning), it was like, oh my God! The people who Tom said arrived next door before he crashed, were slamming shit up against the wall like crazy. It was about as close to the NHA as one could get, sound-wise. I had to wonder just what the hell were they doing in there. Were they fighting? Rearranging furniture? It was weird too, because there’d be a fit of scuffling and banging for a handful of minutes, then it would go dead quiet for a while, and back and forth like that from when I got up at 5:00 until we decided to leave a few hours later. It’s just that for all I knew, they could’ve signed on for a week and there was no way I was going to put up with that shit for even a weekend. Why oh why am I so destined to dodge other people’s rude racket?! The damn banging people do! They just cannot sit still! Why can’t we ever be next to one civilized person who’s as much of a mystery to us as the existence of whoever’s living in the freeloader’s old house? Nonetheless, his place may be quiet when no one’s next door and I may dig the separate room, but other than that, it was cold, dark and spooky (lots of spiders) and I still don’t think the guy’s all that friendly. Service with a smile is still preferred, even if I’m not looking to be buddies with these motel owners.

So I called Tina, friendly Tina who’s cheaper than the La Vista, and after confirming that it was indeed Tina I was speaking with, I asked if we could return. She said she had rooms at weekly rates now available, but the trash is still here till tomorrow. The weather delayed them, I guess. They’ve been ok, though. Just a couple of quick car stereo shows. As always, though, they love to cluster outdoors no matter what the temperature is which has been cold! High 20s. There was even snow visible on the tops of some of the higher mountains in the area. The webcam showed about an inch of snow on the land. Tom, growing up in the desert, thought it was oh-so-cool, but I found it cold, boring looking and even a bit depressing. I wish it were summer again! Summers here are nice as long as you’re not in an old shit of an RV.

Tina has a pretty impressive memory compared to most people. She told me that if I wanted two beds, I could have the room (106) we were first in on Monday if I wanted it. We decided to stay here, though. She also remembered the rat and asked if I still had him, though she asked if I had my “mouse.” This time she only charged $15 instead of $25, so that was nice. Still, I wish she had a garbage disposal for a memory like most people.

So we got settled in here, and of course, we had to listen to next door’s bumps and bangs for a while, but it was tame compared to the Arab’s dive. We actually went to McDonald’s and to that incense store first, because the room wasn’t ready right away.

It’s an Indian specialty store. I’m surprised there were no dolls in it. Just some figurines, dream catchers, candles, beads and incense. There were a few other odds and ends as well, like T-shirts and lotions, but anyway, she had about 25 different fragrances. Some I’ve gotten from Incense Galore, some I haven’t heard of. I got 20 sticks for $2, and Tom showed her the turquoise, which he later said she rejected because I came off as being homeless (I guess people worry about buying stolen things from the homeless). If this is true, it’s her loss. I had even offered to dip and sell her some incense and she was all for it, then she mentioned checking into Incense Galore, which I think he shouldn’t have mentioned, but oh well. There’s a no-making-money-allowed rule on me anyway, so I’m not even going to bother bringing her anything.

He also talked for about an hour with a couple that owns a coin store the other day. The lady collects antique dolls and has a lot of Barbies.

The reason I chose to come back here (and Tom doesn’t mind where I choose to go so long as we can afford it) was so we could go online. It’s not like we’ll be able to do that the instant we move into the duplex, which we drove by as some light flurries fell upon us. I won’t be able to tell how it’s going to be until we’re in it. All I know is that there’s a noise curse on me, so I don’t expect it to be peaceful. It’s a matter of finding the least noisy place we can afford because I’m not allowed to live in quiet places. We’ve got an appointment tomorrow afternoon to check it out. They were putting in new carpet and cleaning it, last he knew. I didn’t think to look for a cellar when we drove by it, but cellars are common in older areas. I’d rather there not be one, though. I’d rather be on solid ground if that lady next door turns out to walk like an elephant, but slab foundations aren’t common in cold climates. The owner of the Indian store said she lives in a duplex she owns and never hears her neighbors. Ah, but are they quiet due to good, solid wall construction, or are they quiet cuz they know they could easily be evicted if they weren’t since they live adjacent to their landlord?

I was surprised to find an email waiting for me from PG regarding e asking how long the fashion dolls will be on sale, but that’s PG for you – they take a year to respond to you and a year to send your dolls. They said the sale’s on while supplies last. Yeah, I’m sure this means that the day I have money, they’ll sell out.

Someone just checked in next door (it’s always a full house here and they check in so early here, too) and of course they had to let me know it, and of course it’s not just one person. I can hear their voices and TV, along with the banging everyone seems so compelled to do. They just better let me sleep this evening!

The best news of all is that I was mistaken in assuming we could never own a house again. Tom explained to me that the credit will be repaired eventually. The only thing is that it may be years before it is.

Tom, who woke up at midnight for a while, said someone came in with loud music around that time. That is so, so rude to come into a motel blaring music late at night! I know who it is, too. Some cock a few rooms down. It’s just lucky it didn’t wake me up.

Anyway, Tom said the duplex has a single-car garage and that its entry doors are not right next to each other. He also said the front yard is not only fenced, but it appears divided in the center too, giving each house its own yard. I hope it’s like that in back too, if there is a yard so that if this lady does turn out to be quiet enough to end up moving (the quiet ones always do), some obnoxious kid that may move in next with its mother won’t go running up screaming by our windows. Particularly the bedroom window on a day I may happen to be asleep.

We don’t know if there’s an alley in back and you use a community dumpster like we did in Phoenix, or if each house has its own barrel they bring to the side of the street once a week.

I’m hoping my schedule will be suitable for going to check the place out with him on Monday. I also hope God’s willing to compromise with me. Meaning, if I can never live where I want to live, then at least don’t let me be unhappy there! The way Tom describes it, it doesn’t sound like it could be as bad as Phoenix. The only sucky thing is that it’s way out of the way, so if the shit truck broke down, he couldn’t just walk to work. At least he’d be where there were buses and taxis.

There’s one thing Tom said the lady said that bugs me, though, and that’s when she said our prospective neighbor stays home a lot. Unless she told her that herself, how would she know this unless they’re meddling in their tenant’s affairs? And what does “she stays home a lot” mean? Does it mean she doesn’t work? Does it mean she works part-time? Or does it just mean she’s home whenever she’s not at work?

Tom looked at the triplex, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be taking that after all. He said they’re so old and ugly that it’s no wonder they can’t rent them. They’re not worth the $350 they’re asking. The main issues were the condition of the bathroom, the layout (there’s not even a closet between the bedroom and next door’s kitchen to dampen the sound), and the fact that it’s not on solid concrete. Tom said there’s a spooky-looking cellar (or basement as they call them here) that runs underneath all 3 units, and that means that if we got someone who walked like an elephant next to us, we’d feel the vibration as if we did have people above us. Also, the only room that’s heated is the living room.

What we are probably going to be moving into is a much newer, bigger duplex with a garage in a nicer residential area. I just wish the garages were between the units! Tom, who drove by it, has an appointment to see it on Monday. The only potential problem with this, besides dogs and car stereos, is that the neighbor, who seems to have been there for a long time, may be a pest. From what the lady who showed the triplex to Tom said, she’s Tom’s age, stays home a lot, and may want a buddy cuz she asked the lady to “send someone nice.”

So that’s it? That’s why God dragged me back here, besides to torment me; to use me to buddy up to some lonely older lady? I don’t think so! I’m not obligated to be anyone’s buddy, though I’d rather a lonely older lady over an unruly pack of freeloaders that are totally out of control. If I can find a way to be nice enough to her to keep her from complaining about my singing (though I’m hoping she works during the day when I do my singing) and get her to not bug us by knocking on the door all the time (I’ll give her my cell phone number if I have to), then we’ll be alright. I also hope the bedroom, which is said to be huge, isn’t adjacent to her place, though if it is, I’d assume her bedroom would be on the other side and not her kitchen. Also, a newer place should have a closet bordering dividing walls if the bedroom really is on that wall.

I don’t know how big the garage is or what the square footage is. Tom guessed it to be about 800. Also, they’re putting new carpet down. It’s more expensive ($435 with nothing included), but Tom was hoping that going for a nicer place that was more expensive, would mean us not having to move around so damn much. I just hope the neighbor isn’t a pest or a complainer and that management doesn’t give us any hassles and that the neighborhood dogs, kids and stereos aren’t a problem. As for dogs outside barking, he says that seems unlikely, though it was hard to tell if there were yards in back that could accommodate dogs. That reminds me, there’s an enclosed yard in front. I like that much. Also, there’ll be places to hang my wind chimes, unlike in that triplex. As for stereos, he said it’s a main drag where the street is wide and they go cruising by at 35 MPH, so we may hear them going down the street, but they can’t park outside our wall to sit and blast the damn thing for hours at a time. I’m sure there’ll be occasional outbursts of various noises, but if I can at least have my sleep and hear myself think most of the time, I’ll be ok till I get fed up enough to take the poison Tom says he’s going to research and get for me as soon as he can for the next time the shit hits the fan. I’ve been fed up, believe me. It’s just that I didn’t have a sure way to kill myself without botching it up and making my life worse. It’d be all I’d need to throw myself in front of a car just to end up paralyzed and in a funny farm that’s no better than jail. I know good and well that most funny farms don’t help. They punish.

I just hope the toilet works ok and that the shower doesn’t come out in one fiercely concentrated stream like the one in here does. A part of me hopes he does move us come Saturday. Then I won’t have to change the sheets either.

I just wish we didn’t have to have a lease! Ok, so it’s only for 6 months, but if that nice lady moves and is replaced with trouble right after we move in, it’s going to be an awfully long 6 months.

I was right in assuming we wouldn’t be able to save money so easily, and that we’ll pretty much be living paycheck to paycheck, but that’s ok. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that we’ll never have anything we want. No house in the woods, no house by the beach, no house in a retirement community, no successful eBay store, no nothing, so why save? Also, if they fire Tom after a few more months, he’ll be eligible for unemployment, so there’s no real need to save for that either. I am, however, going to still be able to have a monthly allowance! At least it looks that way. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but if I have to have a second-best life, at least I can go shopping while I’m at it!

I hope that after all this time, the cold weather that’s settled in doesn’t finally kill my plants off before I can rescue them and get them indoors. It’s only 28˚ out there right now – yuck! The fog looks pretty cool, though. There are some huge mountains boarding the town and you can see clouds of fog shrouding the tops of them.

Another con to being in cold climates is that you get a lot of engine-gunning cuz you can’t just start up the engines that fast unless you have a new and expensive car.

Another night of no one to the right. I was worried they were going to put someone in there, though, cuz I could hear them in there talking loud and clear over my sound machine, as I was nodding off yesterday afternoon.

A few times a day I hear a dog barking in back, but it’s nothing. It’s just a few scattered barks. It doesn’t go on and on for hours like in Arizona.

Well, I should go do my workout now.

I spoke with Mr. Semi-Serious, as he’s now become, and from what he said, this place is notorious for druggies. He kicked the people next to us out a few days ago for that and showed me a room across the way where someone smashed the table and threw the microwave on the floor. This is exactly why I wouldn’t want to be a motel owner on top of the constant demands and huge responsibility it would be.

One of the room keys didn’t work in this shit of a dump. He gave me another one, but it’s just as worthless. Oh well. I shouldn’t be going out too often, and when I do, it won’t be for more than a few minutes. Besides, this is an unlikely place for a break-in.

Again there was no one next to us. It’s been quite dead, actually, so it’s been quiet.

I wonder if he’s going to move us when we sign up for another week. He said something about having to do that every week the last time we were here, but he also said he couldn’t rent by the month. He’s one dumb-ass Arab, that’s for sure! But with the separate room and his place being the quietest, I’m willing to put up with a little stupidity.

I guess Shelvin didn’t take the rabbit they let run around loose, cuz I just saw it.

I must be getting more psychic again, cuz I told Tom the other day that I didn’t vibe us pulling out of storage by November. Also, this morning I woke up knowing we’d be here another week, and once I talked to him, that does look like how it’s going to go. It appears we’re on for moving in on the 29th, so 9 more days in motels. What an ironic coincidence that our 6-month sentence is going to occur almost to the date of the one I got on account of the sickos. We still don’t know for sure that we are going to take the end unit of the triplex, but we probably will. Unless the neighbors are really a killer of a nightmare or there’s a problem with management, we’ll probably renew the lease too, cuz where else would we go but to another rental somewhere?

Got a card, but no money, of course, from the immortal queen Marjorie yesterday, telling us how wonderful everyone’s doing there, how much fun she’s having doing puzzles, all about the kitten, etc. She was glad to get my letters, she said, and I was like, she was glad to get my letters saying how miserable we are? Gee, thanks!

Then the bitch says she hopes our luck has changed by now. Now how can it change that fast? We’d have to hit the lottery big time to get out of this kind of jam that fast. As the saying goes, it only takes a second to hit rock bottom, but quite a while to climb back up. With the way the motels eat so much of his checks, there’s no way we could recover from this one that fast. It’ll be months before we do. I may not even get to have a $100 allowance, though I’d gladly take $50 - $75 to be in a bigger, quieter place if I had to. It’s Wednesday, the day they come out with new listings, so maybe they’ll have a small house in a decent enough area, though I doubt God would be nice enough to let us have that. That would defeat the whole purpose of Him dragging us back to the city unless he put a pack of freeloaders next to us all over again. Still, it’s the banging that’s got me worried. That’s the biggest issue when you live adjacent to others, so maybe I’ll take the damn freeloaders. They can’t be outdoors year-round like they can in Arizona.

I also got to thinking about this kitten shit, and if Miss Perfect’s supposed to have such bad allergies, what’s the stupid fuck doing with a kitten? See, I really think she and the queen lie or exaggerate when it comes to their wide collection of chronic illnesses. I really do.

We joked about me sending a note with no return address or stamp and saying, “I’m so sorry to make you foot the postage, but we’re so broke we can’t even afford stamps and I didn’t want to be rude by ignoring your letter.”

Fuck the bitch, though. Just fuck her and her perfect little daughter and Dave, too! Oh, how a part of me hopes she doesn’t send birthday/Christmas money just so I can tell her off. I’d love, love, love to give her a piece of my mind, though that’s another thing I doubt I’ll get the opportunity to do. I mean, I have plenty of reason to as it is, but that’d really give me an abundance of reason. At this point, I haven’t got a guess as far as that goes. At first I thought she probably would send the money, then I thought she wouldn’t, because if you don’t care that one’s homeless, why would you care about their birthday/Christmas? Now, though, the woman is so warped that I can’t even predict what she’ll do as far as that goes anymore. On the one hand, we could always use any extra money we get, though I want that final straw to motivate me to tell her off. I’m not going to tell her off if she’s going to send money on birthdays, anniversaries and Christmas. Naturally, I wouldn’t write anything threatening if I did end up telling her off so that when she goes running to the pigs like Arizonans love to do, they won’t have shit on me. Especially with me up here. However, what I’m going to say will surely enrage the hell out of them, but that’s good. That’s what I want. I want them to feel some of the fury I’ve been feeling lately. I hope I do hurt their poor, poor fragile little feelings. I’m not just out to vent pent-up feelings that date back to when Tom and I were newlyweds with the queen stealing our time and money and being more of a daughter to us than a mother or a mother-in-law, I’m out to piss them off and break their little hearts any way I can! Really, this card has done nothing to cheer us up in any way. It was nothing but another demonstration of Marge S’s true selfishness. If anything, it only infuriated me more. Nonetheless, that’s my current plan. If she stiffs us, I let her have it, and fuck the inheritance. All 20 grand would do is provide temporary relief, then we’d return to the day-to-day struggling we were meant to do. I’m not going to discuss the fuck-you letter with Tom or else I’ll end up letting him talk me out of it, though I did mention it briefly. It’s just that I’ve let him talk me out of too much over the years as it is when it comes to handling others or just various situations. I succumb and give in to him too much. A person has to handle things their own way every now and then, so no more relenting. At least not when it comes to her. Meanwhile, he totally agrees with my blowing her off like he blew off Miss Perfect’s email. Besides, it’s nice for them to see how it feels to get ignored. Miss Perfect and Dave ignored my email, so now they can get a taste of their own medicine for a change and see how it is. They’ve all got their heads buried so deep in the sand, though, that they’re not going to have a clue as to why we’re ignoring them, but that’s the least of my concerns right now. I have more important things to contend with than them.

I finally have some good news for a change, and that’s that we’ve been officially approved for the triplex and even a more expensive duplex with a garage that’s said to be attached to a lady in her late 50s. If she wasn’t a complainer, how I’d love to have a neighbor like that! It’ll never happen, though. I know we’re going to get younger people next to us with small kids, and if it is just one parent that works during the week, them and their brats being home all night and all weekend will make up for any times they’re not there. Anyway, we’ll probably end up in the triplex, which someone looked at not too long ago, not surprisingly. The triplex would be more affordable, so we’ll probably go there and I’ll just deal with the neighbor’s bumps and bangs. He has an appointment to look at it tomorrow.

If only the Phoenix house wasn’t such a dump and we had normal neighbors! We owed so little on that house and our expenses weren’t overly bad.

It looks like we’re not going to be able to get to the Chinese place this weekend either, and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s even meant to be. After all, women never are where I’m concerned, and just maybe she would’ve made us a little money on the side and that’s why I’m being kept away from her. Well, I’m not going to “fight” to get to a damn restaurant, so if I don’t make it back within a couple of weeks, I’m not going to bother.

In other good news, Tom’s virtually certain they’re going to keep him at work, although he’s going to try to find a better job. I doubt God will let him find a better job anytime soon, though I’m at least glad He didn’t hate us enough to let the sickos hinder us from an apartment or to let him get fired. This doesn’t mean I still don’t hate His guts just because He only pushed us to the edge of a cliff and not off it. That’d be like an abused wife forgiving her husband simply because he broke her arms and not her legs, too.

It just bothers me that the things we try to escape keep coming back to haunt us. Like the bills we thought we’d escaped forever. Most of them are back all over again.

There’s no one on either side of us, so that’s good.

Later…

Tom and I talked and our tentative plan is to go to the Chinese place on the first Sunday of November and take our first clump of play money on the first payday of December. Things have a bad habit of not going our way, though, so I won’t count on these things happening. We don’t even know how many more weeks we’ll be here at the motel.

This little scavenger of a rat manages to find goodies in every room we stay in. This time around it was a piece of black licorice. He’s been matching my schedule more so these days. Now that I’m sleeping throughout the nights, he’s up well into the mornings.

My allergies are a little fritzy. I can tell they don’t do a great job cleaning here. Who knows when the last time was that they vacuumed under the bed? Who knows how old that licorice was?

It’s cold, damp and cloudy out right now. The kind of weather that puts you in a lazy mood. Actually, I’m in the mood to write, but write what? Perhaps I ought to dive back into No Escape. It’s just that I had been hoping to wait till we were in someplace and I could get the bulk of it for reference, which is stored on my desktop. All this laptop has is the last page and a half of the story, and the last 30 pages of journaling.

It wasn’t until this early morning that I finally caught up on my sleep. Friday night at the La Vista I woke up at 10:30 after barely 5 hours of sleep, making the next day tiresome for me. We went up to the land first. Nothing’s been messed with. I was amazed to find the plants looked even healthier, though the big leaf one finally gave up. That’s okay. It looked horrible and its pot was chipped. After grabbing a few more things and leaving the land, which of course, I did not want to do, we went to look at the triplex again.

It’s really squeezed in there by trees and other buildings, that’s for sure. There’s a duplex right next to it. I was wrong in saying the housing situation was different than Arizona because it’s not. You’re either all jammed in close together or you’ve got hundreds of feet in between. There’s really not much of a happy medium here either. There were also a few yards in the area with dogs, one being across the street.

The hill it’s on is so steep. It’s on 7th Street, and I guess the summit is on the next street over on 6th Street. We peered through the windows and saw some immediate pros and cons. The living room is huge and appears to have new carpet, so that’s good. The kitchen and bedroom appeared adequate, but the bedroom wasn’t carpeted. We couldn’t see all of the bedroom or any of the bathrooms. What worried me the most was that next door’s kitchen was right next to the bedroom of the end unit we want, and we don’t know if there’s a bedroom closet and if it’s between their kitchen and the bedroom if there is. My biggest fear of moving in there, obviously, would be God jumping to take advantage of that by sending me some cabinet-happy neighbor. As it is, I picture us with someone who’s home all day. If we don’t get stuck with freeloaders, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if we got a couple with a little brat and one of its parents stood home all day with it. Tom, though, thinks it’s less likely because of the location and the fact that it’s not the cheapest 1-bedroom, saying that it’s usually when you get the cheapest of whatever that there’s trouble. Again, though, noise curses find a way to get through anything, and that dividing wall looked awfully thin. They build them thin because the builders don’t care since they’re not the ones who are going to have to live there, and most people are the opposite of me; they want to hear what’s going on around them. You know how people are, always loving to stick their noses into other people’s business. This is a complaining state too, so I wonder if I’d be able to sing there without anyone giving me any shit about it. I would think I’d have an easier chance of singing there without any hassles as opposed to a motel where there are more people milling around. Tom has a point, though, in saying that there wouldn’t be much traffic along that street. The road actually forks, and while they’re allowed to park in front of their houses on the opposite side of the street, which is higher than the other side, they can’t park by this duplex. I just don’t like that it’s $350 with only water/sewer/trash included. Heat and electricity, which are the two biggies, aren’t included. I’d like to think, though, that that and the fact that it’s on such a steep hill (not even Jehovah’s demons should be wanting to climb up there to bug people), will keep the middle unit empty for a while, but I doubt it. I think that if we get in there, God will send us neighbors right away. People, people, people. Why does He want me with them? Why is it so damn important to Him that I don’t isolate myself from others??? Why can’t I have my own quiet, private little corner of the earth where no one bothers me?

We also hope the area’s wired for cable, or else we’ll be stuck with an old dial-up modem that takes forever!

We also looked at a strip of studios, though I thought the location looked horrible. It may be convenient, but it’s practically right off of a gas station which is off a busy intersection. I’d think the car stereos there would be in abundance.

There’s also a house available, but it’s in Mills Addition (a shabby area) right by a school.

Anyway, this triplex is in sort of a dumpy area off downtown, though it’s pretty ritzy compared to places I’ve lived in Springfield.

I don’t know how long we’ll be in KF, period. This place has no hold on us now that we can’t live in the woods, which was why we came here in the first place. Because we’ve been surprised lately with finding out that things we thought were so really aren’t so, perhaps coastal land isn’t as expensive as we thought. Particularly in southern Oregon or northern California. Washington would be too expensive cuz that’s where Microsoft is. Plus, I think I’d hate that climate. Too Massachusetts-like with nothing but rain, rain, rain. Too much rain gets as old as too much heat and sunshine.

We checked in with Mr. Serious, who seemed a bit nicer this time around, into a 2-room for $175. That’s better than the $210 at the La Vista we were paying and what the Mexicans cost us at Tina’s when they were here. I’m so glad they’re gone now! Sure enough, Mr. Serious said I missed out on some good money while they were here. Of course I did. There’s a no-making-money-allowed rule on me.

He offered us a room with a kitchenette for $650 a month, saying that if we decided to stay the winter, he’d make us a better deal. While this is a smoking deal, considering the fact that you’d have no bills to pay and don’t do your own cleaning, there’d be no internet access, and the room is so small I’d surely go insane of claustrophobia. Plus, the bathrooms suck here. The only good thing about it was that it didn’t have any rooms adjacent to it. It would be a last resort if the Arizona sickos did end up hindering us from getting a place.

They’re up now next door. Yeah, it was pretty quiet until they came banging in last night. These walls are pathetically thin. So much so that I could make out a few words here and there. Someone just went into the bathroom, which is next to the enclosed room I’m in and coughed. Then they flushed the toilet. I don’t know why he put them in there when he knows I don’t like that. It doesn’t appear to be a full house, leaving him no choice. Oh well. I slept well, and hopefully they’ll check out today and no one will come in tonight. At least they check in later here than they seemed to at the other places.

The only thing I don’t like about this place, besides the fact that it’s so rundown, and they’re banging and slamming God-knows-what over there, is that there’s not one single outlet in the separate room. Therefore, I’m running the sound machine on batteries. Because it’s quiet most of the time here, though, I can usually just wear an earplug.

It feels nice to feel rested after going so many days without enough sleep. I know to enjoy it too, as it’ll be a while before I sleep this well again. Especially if there’s someone next to us again tonight. It wouldn’t really make much of a difference if someone were to our left, what with the way the place is laid out, but those on the right can be heard really well.

As I’ve said before, another area we’re cursed in is with toilets. The toilet at the last place clogged up twice, and this one didn’t want to flush. Tom fixed it, then offered to fix the shower for me so it wouldn’t pour out in such a fierce concentrated stream, but I assured him I’d deal with it. Part of having to live in places you don’t own means you don’t play fix-it nearly as much. Then all we have to do is hope God doesn’t go breaking our personal things like the computers more often to make up for the lack of other responsibilities.

I miss the comfort of routine. It’s just that every time I get that, I lose it. Circumstances always come up to tear down whatever it is we settle into or achieve. I know better now than to throw out boxes after they’re unpacked when we get to wherever we’re going. No matter how much I may want to stay put, we’ll be moving around again soon enough. I just don’t get it, though. In Phoenix we wanted to move so badly for so long yet we were stuck there so God could use his precious little freeloaders as instruments of torture on us. Now, we can’t stop moving!

We’ve both gained some weight back. I’m in the low 130s. I brought my exercise ball back with me since there’s room in here to bounce. I’ll settle for just a 5-pound loss since I know circumstances will just throw me back up to where I am sooner or later. That’s another one of the many lessons I’ve learned that pertain to my life – don’t bother to lose weight, it only comes back. I’m only going to diet to keep from gaining and to make myself feel better, treating myself to whatever about once a week. I also like to be in shape, so I’m going to do a cardiovascular workout on the ball, then some basic exercises to work my major muscle groups.

As much as I’d have liked to investigate “Kate” more, we skipped the Chinese place yesterday to save money. We couldn’t have picked a better day to do it too, since it was cold, blustery and rainy.

The RV’s insurance is due in December, so before that comes around, we’re going to try to either part it or sell it whole.

I miss my incense. It ran out two days ago, lasting me just a month and a half.

I got a letter from Bob. He sent his support and encouragement, unlike Tom’s wonderful family who doesn’t even care to call to find out what’s up with us and offer assistance and is still having lung problems. He’s still not sure if they’re going to move him or not.

Someone just left next door, but only one person. I know someone else is still over there because I heard two voices.

Tomorrow marks 6 weeks of motel-living. Thanks, God, thanks a real lot. This is just what we needed. Just what we always dreamed of in life.

Later…

Maybe no one is next door after all, since Mr. Serious is over there now and I don’t hear voices. Maybe the guy that was there just likes to talk to himself.

Working out with the ball felt great after not doing so for over a month. Now, though, I have nothing to do but be bored silly until he gets home with what I expect will be either good news or bad. He said he thinks they’ll give us a place, but he always thinks things will work out. He’s one of those who’s very seldom pessimistic and who thinks that ignorance is bliss and that silence makes problems go away.

Yesterday was a shitty day, but there was some good to it in the end. The sleep curse has gotten ever so bad. Like NHA and jail bad. I’m more convinced than ever that I’ll have problems with sleep all my life, some times being worse than others. If I could just have a day in my life with uninterrupted sleep, though, that would be just wonderful. I knew there was only so long I could keep the schedule going. I just had hoped it wouldn’t roll till we got in the apartment since a hotel is no place to roll schedules. If I were here alone it would be a bit easier, but whenever he comes in or needs to use the phone, I wake right up. So yesterday, after just a few hours of sleep, he came in and had to call to play round 3 of trying to get our money back from the satellite people, since we can’t use the system. I felt like shit. My head and stomach ached and my heart was racing.

However, the shrimp he got was way good. For just $4, he got shrimp for me, potato wedges for himself, and biscuits for Blondie. So after a few hours, I fell back asleep and managed to sleep till after midnight. This helps for going up to the land tomorrow so we can get more stuff and I can wish we could stay there in our imaginary dome house, rather than have to return to the city and its people and noise. I also hope to go to the Chinese place on Sunday, but that’s up in the air right now. We don’t even know where we’ll be tomorrow night. I just hope to get a room with a separate room in it at Mr. Serious’s (the Arab guy) if we were going to be forced to play motel for another week or two or more. Then we can be back listening to neighbors just like old times. I dread it as much as I look forward to it. I dread the bumps and bangs I’ll have to deal with, but I also want out of these fucking motels! I want to be able to at least try to save money, try to shop, try to get back into fitness, etc., and of course, I miss my stuff. I’ll be damned if I’ll pack Bailey away again like this, once I do get her. I didn’t pay $300 just to have her sit in a fucking box!

Tom filled out the application for AAA Property Management, but the black sickos may be a problem. Yes, even after not having them in our lives for a year and a half now, they may be back to haunt us yet again. This is because this place does criminal checks. Why, I don’t know. I mean, I can see the credit checks, but as long as they’re getting their money, why should they care about records? What I wonder, though, is will we ever be 100% free of the fucking sickos? Or maybe at least 90% free of them?

I have mixed emotions about the queen sending birthday/Christmas money. On the one hand, I want the money. On the other, I want an excuse to really give the bitch a piece of my mind, along with her daughter, just because I can and because it would make me feel so good to do so. They’ve offended and insulted us enough that I’m more than overdue for a good telling off to them!

I don’t understand how I could make his coworkers and others sick without even trying, yet no matter how much I try to mentally throttle this bitch, she won’t even sneeze! This pathetic piece of shit is going to live another decade easily. The more I think about it, the more I believe she feigned most of the illnesses she’s claimed to have since Dad died. Yes, she was misdiagnosed by some of the quacks she’s seen, but I still think a lot of these chronic and or terminal diseases were complete fabrications on her part. After all, I was right in suspecting the selfish bitch could write, and well, it’s just a gut feeling that goes along with being better and better aquatinted with her selfish personality over the years. I think she could even live alone if she wanted to. She’s slow, but she’s not disabled. She’s only living with Miss Perfect because it’s easier and because she’s a sympathy junkie.

I learned part of why this place is packed so much of the time. According to the owner, there are workers here who are working on the new Walmart Supercenter, some bridge somewhere, and some other thing.

God’s little bum here, signing in for another round of bitching. Not only am I furious at God for letting this happen to us, but oh how I’d love to get a hold of Tom’s mother! Oh, what I could do to her right about now, and I don’t give a shit how old and feeble she is! I never thought she of all people would cause me to be as disgusted and ashamed as I’ve come to be of her. I don’t give a shit that she doesn’t give a shit about me, but certainly it’s got to hurt Tom somewhat to see his multi-thousand-dollar mother sit on her lazy, hypochondriac ass while he barely keeps his head above water. If we don’t get anything for Christmas, she’ll hear from me one last time if I’m still alive. With nothing to lose, it’ll at least make me feel a little better to tell her off. Really, she makes me sick! And so does her shit daughter!

Anyway, it appears I’m still very much a doom psychic since I’m going to be right about us not making it into an apartment this Saturday. Tom thinks I’m still more than a doom psychic, though, because he’s already better when he shouldn’t be. What with the symptoms he had, he should’ve gotten worse than he did, and for 7-10 days, too. Being a doom psychic is fine, and I’m glad he got better so quickly, but why can’t I psych out the lottery?! Stupid question, I suppose, since the answer’s obviously because God wants us to suffer and to struggle. They won’t even let Tom see places till he fills out an application, and of course they’re going to want to pull a credit report, which thanks to the bastard back down at BOA, is going to be less than perfect.

Again, I can’t believe how one man’s spite could turn people’s lives upside down and inside out! It’s scary to know how others can have such a hold on us and that they can make us or break us at will. All this shit for over a year now, thanks to this one sick cock. And as always, it goes without saying that there’s not a damn thing we can do about it to fight back in any way. No, our wonderful God has this sick fuck well protected.

The events of my life do nothing to help my self-esteem, either. Normally, as an adult, I don’t care what others think or say about me, but just like a child loses confidence and self-esteem when their parents are always cutting them down, God’s apparent lack of concern for me has a way of making me not give a damn about what happens to me any more than He does. It’s making me think of turning inward and against myself. It’s like…if he doesn’t give a shit and if he thinks I deserve to suffer, then maybe I do. Perhaps I should abuse myself right along with Him and with others. Yeah, let’s all pick on the horrible Jodi S, why don’t we? Let’s make sure she and her husband live like poor-ass bums with nothing to live for but hopeless dreams. Let’s make sure she never even has money to buy another doll, for Christ’s sake! Even life’s simple pleasures are gone for me. I can still take a bubble bath, but I can’t get dolls, I can’t get more incense, I can’t get new clothes, I can’t get shit! I’m tired of wanting things I can never have, goddamn it! If I ever want to feel like something up there is on my side and gives a damn about me, all I’d have to do is get down on my knees and pray to scrape pennies like hell, miss out on doing/having the things I want, to be woken up constantly and to have to listen to noisy neighbors. Now those would be prayers/goals that are totally achievable.

Why does Tom want to continue living this way anyway? What’s it going to take for him to see that things are never going to improve but maybe for 5 minutes? Why does he want to go on living while God sits up in the sky and laughs his ass off at his expense? Does he want to be God’s little fool?

I guess the next step is to get a loan against the truck and the RV since God would never let us get away with stealing. Before we know it, we’ll be getting loans against our fucking lives! I mean, really, what do we do when we run out of stuff to sell? Should we sell our souls?

As for my schedule, I couldn’t hold out past noon yesterday, but sure enough, I woke right up 5 hours later when he got in. Then I fell asleep for a few hours in the evening and awoke again at 10:30. Now if I could just stay up for 16-18 hours, I can finally be up throughout at least most of the daytime.

Tom is going to fill out an application and hopefully check out apartments too, after work. Typical Mr. Optimistic, telling me that logically speaking, the noise/sleep curses will be off once we get in someplace. Yeah, right! I wish to hell he could be right, but I know I’ll be cursed in these departments for the rest of my life, especially with the sleep. Some curses simply just don’t go away. Not overnight, not slowly. All I can do is just suffer through it and live with it, for once again, God’s got me trapped in a situation I can’t escape from anyway, so what choice do I have but to kill myself? And damn Him to hell for not allowing me the ability to keep a schedule and for giving me insomnia. Being in the city, I could work and double our income, but that’s another thing we’re cursed with – money, which is probably why I don’t have what it takes to work. Until they come up with real home jobs, and I know they won’t, I won’t be working outside of the house. I’m totally convinced that God made sure I’d be sleep-cursed not only to keep us from making extra money now but to make sure we end up struggling after Tom’s retired.

Financial struggling. Can’t imagine life without it. Tom still thinks we’re going to save a ton of money and have a life while we do so, but I know better. I’m sure all kinds of emergencies will come up to steal whatever we save. If we were meant to have money, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. I just look forward to the day his mother finally goes belly-up so we can at least have a temporary respite from the everyday scraping of pennies. That’s how I figure our lives will be – mostly struggling with occasional bursts of comfort. I know my allowance and shopping will be temporary like last time, too. If I were meant to have the dolls I’ve been wanting, I wouldn’t have wanted them for as long as I’ve wanted them. Do you know how many years I’ve had my heart set on some of these custom-made dolls? Too many!

Anyway, I’m not going to give God the satisfaction of seeing me break down in tears while He’s laughing his ass off when the neighbors get door-slammy on us, stealing my peace when I’m trying to read or work on the computer and waking me up every other day. Also, I’m so sick of bouncing around like a fucking basketball, so no matter how bad it gets, I’m staying put with no tears! Every time the bumps and bangs get to me, I’ll think of how I can enjoy the easy convenience of mailing mail from our door, receiving mail at our door, ordering pizzas if we want to, dumping trash with no problem, not having to worry about wells or having to spend a fortune on things that break. When the hot water tank blows or the roof leaks, it’s not our time and money gonna be spent on fixing it!

I wonder if Pa ever pleads with God – Give the poor girl a break! You’ve taken so much from her, so must you take her sleep, too? It’d be nice if he’d at least let me have that much if He’s going to make me live in the city, but I know I’ll never get that, so why bother to hope?

Tom’s cold hasn’t turned out to be too bad, so that’s good. He hasn’t had to miss work.

Speaking of the usual sleep curse that’s very much a part of my life, as always, well, I’m dealing with that right now. Couldn’t imagine life without it. I had hoped to sleep into the evening yesterday, but sure enough, he woke me up when coming into the room. I didn’t hear him enter, but the room brightened so much with the way the sun shines on the door at that time and that’s what woke me. I took Benadryl and crashed last night from 11:00 to 3:00, and am bound and determined, as hard as I know it’ll be, to stay up till this evening. I want to not only be available to move this weekend if that’s what’s going to happen (though I’m beginning to have my doubts), I want to be available to go up to the land to get some more things and water the plants, and maybe to the Chinese place too, unless he doesn’t think we should spend the money just yet by going there.

That triplex we looked at still has two vacant units, and I can’t help but think, wouldn’t it be nice if I could talk Kate into moving into one if we do? I know that’ll never happen, but I can dream, can’t I? Dreams are about all I have at this point. Like the one where I magically fall on schedule and stay on it while I work at the Chinese place when Kate does so, she can drive me to and from the place, honored to do so, happy to get whatever time and attention she can from me.

I’m amazed at how often this place is filled up. Again, it makes me wonder if it isn’t cuz we’re here and if this isn’t another classic example of how we do so well at making others money. I bet business will die down when we leave. I don’t hear voices or the TV next door, but they never fail to let me know when they come and go. Whether it’s cuz of our presence or not, I still can’t believe there are so many people traveling at this time of year! I thought they were mostly truckers, but there are an awful lot of cars around for it to be mostly truckers.

I am so, so tired. This is totally the middle of the night for me and my body wants so badly to sleep! However, I know I’ll be glad I did it if I stay up. Then all I’ll have to do is hope I don’t get banged up by whoever’s going to come slamming in next. Meanwhile, I’ve got to try to keep myself entertained and busy somehow. It’s just that TV bores me, reading tires me out, and there’s only so much writing and listening to music I can do. I sang a bit earlier. Maybe I’ll do some more.

Later…

I’m still awake, though barely. I just went to dump some trash in their dumpster here. Those Mexies love to loiter outdoors, no matter what the weather. They really hate being indoors. What the hell are some of them doing there at this time anyway? Aren’t they supposed to be slaving away on the farm?

The number of pigs I see here really annoys me. We weren’t even out an hour yesterday evening when we went to Safeway and to KFC, yet we saw 3 squad cars. I questioned Tom as to whether or not they’re as crazy as they are down in Arizona since the place is constantly swarming with them, but he saw something that made him think they’re not as quick to jump on a person for every little thing they do. Some cock was panhandling when a cruiser went by. Tom saw the guy tuck his sign under his shirt and saw that the pigs saw it anyway but didn’t do anything. Well, I just hope I never have to find out just what the pigs and law are like here! If God could refrain from sending someone to provoke me into kicking their ass, I’d really appreciate it as that’d really help to ensure that I don’t get to know the local pigs/jail. It really frustrates me when trouble seems to come my way no matter how much I try to avoid it. Doing things to provoke others and asking for trouble is one thing, but what is this shit with me trying to mind my own business and go about my life in peace, yet I still get trouble? I keep trying to tell myself, relax, this isn’t Phoenix, what happened there was a fluke, history doesn’t have to repeat itself, but I can’t do that. It’s just too hard for me to think positively when the same old sorry shit happened to me over and over, year after year. As far as I can see, I have no reason to be hopeful and every reason to be fearful.

Tom has a cold, I’m sorry to say. Apparently, I’m still immune to colds, but I’m no longer able to protect him and that worries me. All my powers are pretty much history, save for negative predictions and keeping myself from illness. As it is, I’m starting to wonder if we’re going to make it out of here this weekend. He’s trying, though. He got updated lists and spoke with the property management people some more. I would still prefer a house, but I can see he prefers a duplex. This is because they’re cheaper and would cost less to heat. He doesn’t want us to have to skimp and be uncomfortable when it comes to heat, but that’s all we do is skimp. Our whole life is skimping this, compromising that, and all kinds of sacrifices and settlements, so does it matter? House, duplex – they’ll all suck either way, so I don’t really care so long as we get the hell out of motels.

A lot of people think renting is bad because you lose the money, but look how easy it is for some of us to lose houses, so what difference does it make? I don’t want to own anything again as much as I’ll always wish I could.

This motel, as much as I want out, continues to be the best so far, save for the fact that it’s got no internet access or another room. They don’t bug us here, and the room next door is usually quieter than they were in other places. They get on my nerves occasionally with the door-slamming and attention-getting tactics like that, but I don’t hear voices and TVs like at other places.

I still think of suicide periodically, and that it may be best since we go through so much more shit than good. I’m more and more convinced that life will be one long-term problem after another as long as we live. At our age, I just don’t see how things could get better. I’ve at least agreed to give Mr. Optimist time to see that no, we can’t get a quiet place. Not even in the tiny town of Klamath Falls. A noise curse is a noise curse. It will get us wherever it can. It doesn’t care where we go. As long as it can stick next to us just one loud, rude, obnoxious asshole that just won’t shut up, it will. Meanwhile, when he can finally see and admit that old curses and patterns really do have a way of following us no matter where we go and that life will continue to be everything we don’t want it to be and nothing we do want it to be, he’s agreed to research poison online as a possible way of killing ourselves. There are too many risks with hanging and shit like that, so he’s going to investigate some form of poison. One would think there are some fast-acting poisons out there, though at this point, if I have to suffer 5 minutes of hell before I die, it may be worth it to get to nothingness in the end, rather than put up with 50 more years of hell on earth.

I don’t understand why God doesn’t take his mother. All she’s doing is taking up space and burdening others while we could really use her help, and the only way she could help us at this point is to get dead. I mean, damn that bitch! It just won’t fucking die! I’ve been putting spells on her like crazy yet I know it’s worthless. The selfish bitch has got God’s protection and many years left in her. On the other hand, does it really matter if she takes 10 more years to die? We’ll still need money then too, if we’re still alive.

We had a couple of cold days, but they say it’s to warm up to around 80˚ within the next few days. Not bad for mid-October.

Tom brought in my box of Barbies that’s been in the truck. That way I can personalize the place a bit and feel like we have something around that’s ours other than clothes. I’ve only got a few displayed, though, since there’s only so much room in here, and what with the rat running loose a lot.

We took a walk earlier. I just felt like I had to get out. I didn’t want Tom to accompany me. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his company, it’s just that he was sick and I wanted him to rest. Still, he insisted on tagging along, so I let him.

I never did get sick, like I said, but I was so rundown. All I did was sleep for the last few days, though I’m still on nights. I just can’t seem to get onto days to save my life, but oh well. I’ll sleep when I sleep. If things could go our way for once – just for once – I should only have one more move coming up for a while and that’s to the apartment.

I can’t stop thinking of that waitress. I hope I get to see her this Sunday, but I might not if I can’t push my schedule up or pull it back. I won’t be able to give her my number this Sunday if we’re not in someplace by then. If I’m right about her liking me, just handing her my number should be enough of an incentive for her to call me, but I’d rather have dolls and incense as a hook, and I won’t have that till we are in a place. Still, I wonder, will she really call? And if so, just what kind of friendship could we have?

I guess I’d have to say I doubt we’ll get together in any way shape or form. Look how many times in the past I thought I’d be getting together with various people, yet I never did. Because women were always so not meant to be, not that I’d want a relationship with this woman, God will send her a girlfriend right around the time I get my number to her. I just don’t see Him letting me be even just friends with a gay or bisexual woman.

On the other hand, do I really want to have a lover on the side who gets off on me and whom I get off on? Nah. As exciting as the prospect of variety may seem, I don’t really need that. When Tom doesn’t cum, it’s for a reason, and as “abnormal” and as “freakish” as that may be, we both don’t want a child, so it’s okay. Again, I know it could be for other reasons that he doesn’t cum, but I still have a hard time buying Helen’s it-just-doesn’t-quite-feel-good-enough literature. I think he’s very much in control of himself, and I think he’d not cum in any unprotected woman. This doesn’t mean he’d get squirt-happy if I suddenly had a hysterectomy, though, cuz that’d be admitting to both himself and to me that I was right. Besides, he’s gotten himself so accustomed to not cumming, and when you don’t get that horny that easily or that often, holding back isn’t so hard to do.

I still don’t see what this woman sees in me anyway. Can’t she see how chunked out I am?

With Tom’s work probation period being up in just two weeks from now, we’re both anxious and nervous. It’s nerve-wracking to know that just like others have, they could take our lives and trash them, but at the same time, we want to hurry up and get the probation over with.

I’d like to think God can have the heart to say to Himself that these people have been picked on enough. They’ve lost so much that I’m not going to take the job, too. They’ve been taken for enough and their lives are in shambles, so I’ll at least spare them the loss of the job.

But I can’t count on this. It’s because of all He has taken from us that worries me. If He could take the things He has and if He could prevent us from achieving such ordinary goals, He could take our lives in His hands and crush the life right out of them if He wants us dead, and dead is just how we’ll get if He does strip us of what little we have left.

If we do live, we’re still going to save as much as we can, even though we’ll be in apartments for years, because we’ll need the money for if he gets fired or laid off in the future, and that’s bound to happen. It happens to the best of us. We also still want to go to San Francisco to get that mannequin I’ll have to move around like crazy, and on a cruise as well. You can bet your ass we’re going first class when we do! As in hotels with a capital H where they’ll wait on us as if we were royalty.

I decided not to bother getting the fillings I need. I just don’t want to put extra money in my mouth or go back to playing appointments, so if I let them just decay, there’ll be no teeth to have to worry about. We play fix-it enough outside of my mouth that I don’t need to play it inside of it as well.

Oregon is one “regular” state. I don’t think I’ve gone a day without shitting, except for when I took those anti-shit pills.