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.