When I was lotioning up after my shower, just after 7 AM, I thought I heard someone knocking on one of Bev’s doors, but then I realized she was hammering. And I had thought she was considerate and respectful? Oh, well. I did tell her I don’t have a schedule when she told me she tries not to do anything too early, and I’m sure she figured months ago that he’s gone by then. Still, I stomped across the place just so she could hear me, too!

Mom and daughter were in the yard talking to her yesterday evening. I don’t think they knocked on her door, so I guess she was either out back or saw them hop over the fence to perhaps look for their cats, and went out to see them. We couldn’t make out anything they said, and I only saw them on their way back over the fence. The daughter’s older than I thought. She’s got to be in her 40s. The mother, who’s not as tall and wide as her daughter, looked ridiculous in a funny way. First of all, she had no pants on. Just a T-shirt that barely reached her spindly chicken legs that didn’t seem to go with her wide, round upper body. Anyway, my guess is that it was cat-related. I’ve never known them to chat before, and Bev never said anything about it either. Still, if all we have to get to is 60º to bring these people out, I hate to think of what the 70s and 80s will do. It may be better in August when it gets too hot, but then they’d probably come out at night. I just hope we aren’t here by then to find out! I know it’s mild compared to other places I’ve lived, but I’m sick of being squeezed in the middle here while doors slam on one side and Bev goes bump and bang on the other. It’s time to get wedged into other noise sources where I can at least hope to blast my stereo and jog around if I wanted to!

I’m looking way forward to getting these teeth dealt with. Although I feel more discomfort than pain, I’m sure anyone unafraid of dentists would be as eager as I am!

If I could snap my fingers and jump us up 7 years to owning a place outright/his AMEX pension checks, I would not hesitate! It’s stressful enough worrying about things we own breaking and paying the bills, so to have the stress of what the neighbors may do to butt into our lives on top of it all, really adds to it. I know I’m dreaming, but I still picture us one day in a secluded place, with a big enough house that’s not too big, comfy, and happy, going shopping once or twice a month, eating out once or twice a month, not having any serious problems other than the usual day to day shit, laying in bed together talking or reading on a double bed while the nearest neighbors are pretty much a big old mystery to us. Dogs aren’t out barking on and off throughout the day/night even though we’re in a warm climate. We can enjoy our inflatable pool and not have to scrounge for things to sell so we can survive.

Later…

I think I just figured out what’s going on with Bev and why she parks backed in so much. I had just walked up to the window when I saw her pull in, then swing over onto the lawn to turn around so she’d be backed in. She’s been going out 4 times a day, staying out longer the last time she goes out. Here’s what I think is the case: I think she turns around in her driveway to make it easier to get out onto this very busy 35 MPH road. It is much easier to turn around in the yard than to back out. I think the first time she goes out is to bring him to work. The second time is to pick him up for lunch. The third is to bring him back to work. The fourth is to bring him home. I figure they feel it’s easier if instead of bringing him here to visit, then bringing him home, she brings him home, visits with him there, then comes back alone (until the weekend). I hope he gets his damn truck going before we get out of here cuz of the dog! This is what I mean when I bitch about other people’s happenings affecting us.

Tom got another look at the single-wides and says they were definitely out because of the vacant lot that’s right by it. As he pointed out, kids of all kinds would be hanging out there constantly in the summer and then I really wouldn’t get any writing done!

We thought we’d have to pay for it, yet Tom was able to find this neighborhood-spy software that’s so, so cool! It wouldn’t let us see Maricopa, but we saw places in Phoenix and back east, as well as these duplexes and most of K-Falls. It’s pretty neat. We checked out Sacramento. It is huge, but not Phoenix or LA huge. It has a lot of promising-looking rural areas. Tom thinks we can get a place that’s 100-150 feet from the neighbors, but I’m afraid to even dare hope for that! I just hope I don’t have the tightness and allergies I had down south and that the dogs aren’t out barking up a storm day and night. Still, can’t wait for the day we move to California, my dream state!

Later…

Connecticut has approved a bill allowing civil unions but is still opposed to gay marriage. Right now, the only state that has gay marriage is Massachusetts, but what’s the damn difference? As long as they get equal rights, which they deserve, does it really matter what you call it? People and their damn labels! Anyway, the East is so much more liberal than the West, though I’d never want to live there again.

Maybe my Bev theories are wrong. She’s gone again, and well, it’s a little early for Romeo to be taking any breaks or going off to lunch.

It’s quite wet and rainy out there, but of course it doesn’t rain to the point where you have running water like down south.

Later…

I haven’t been able to concentrate on my current book to save my life. I don’t know why I’ve been so restless lately. Perhaps it is because I’m anxious to find out what’s going on with us. Are we really moving soon? Is he really stuck at MCX?

What the hell? I am getting so sick of the scattered series of bumps and bangs coming from Bev. What the hell is she doing over there? These aren’t animal bumps and bangs, but maybe she’s cleaning or working on her washer and dryer in the utility area. I first thought it was someone out on the back patio, but no one was there. It’s coming from her utility area. I think she’s sweeping it and may’ve swept the dust outside because I swear I heard the screen door close. Still, I miss the days when you wouldn’t hear a peep out of her for days on end. It’s like she too, is restless all of a sudden. It’s not that she’s noisy, but she distracts me and interrupts my train of thought.

It is so frustrating not to be able to act on what I just discovered! Every now and then I like to see who’s around and where, so I looked up some people on this new people search I just found. I got 3 listings for the black bitch. I thought it was weird that there’d be 3 people with the same name, but then I realized that they don’t always delete old addresses as people move, since I found Tom’s last address at the Phoenix house. They very well could’ve been different people, but they also had a Mark M at two Phoenix addresses I’ve known him to live at, along with his parent’s house back east. His Springfield Belmont Ave. apartment wasn’t listed, though. Perhaps his folks died and he moved back there. He did tell me that the house was going to be left to him. Then again, I’m wrong. It was their new condo that was to be left to him. One of his brothers moved into the house when the parents moved into the condo. Nonetheless, I may not be in Arizona, but the sick bitch is and she’s black. Therefore, I can’t use these addresses, if any of them are correct, for any purpose.

There are a million Jerry Os too, but I wouldn’t be able to begin to sort out which one might be the sicko pig.

I am, however, considering sending both Tammy and the folks a letter filled with all kinds of adventurous tales, some true, some false, just to tease them with the phony hope of a reunion. I just don’t think I can make up and play nicey-nice with them. I really don’t. But I can play with their heads. Perhaps I shouldn’t bother and perhaps it’s a bit childish, but I feel the need to do something. Well, not so much a need as a desire. You never know. It may get me back in their will after all, though I doubt it. The only real tall tale I would tell is that we were moved here because we’re in the witness protection program on account of the sickos we had to live with, and then they can all wonder if something happened to us when they fail to hear from me again anytime soon! Maybe the curiosity and the worry will eat at them like the pain and anger they’ve caused me still sometimes eats at me.

As for the queen, I figure one of 3 things will happen. We’ll fail to get a book published, they’ll keep giving us birthday, anniversary and Christmas money, and therefore they’ll never hear from me again. Or they’ll stop giving us that money and they’ll hear from me in a very big way. Or we’ll publish a book, they won’t stop giving us the money, and then I’ll inform them of the book while I “break it to them gently.” Meaning, I’ll give them a piece of my mind, but in a very quick and vague way as opposed to the downright blunt and mean way I’d like to give it to them, and the way I will give it to them if they do stop sending money. I don’t think they’ll stop sending us money, though, like I said, just so whatever’s up there can keep me from having the satisfaction of not holding back, short of threats and swears, of course.

Well, I guess I was wrong with my Bev theories. Her outings are too erratic to say for sure what’s going on or if she’s moving, but she and some chick just came out back to gab on the patio for a few minutes. At first I thought it was the neighbor, but unless she drove around the corner in the silver car that’s parked out front right now (I couldn’t get a good look at her description), it’s someone else. I put my ear to the back door, but couldn’t make out anything other than, “you can’t see it right now,” and “drive up and down,” and “coming back from the bar.” At least there are no animals there, but I swear this woman has more and more company by the day!

The cold and rain haven’t put a damper on next door’s going back and forth either.

Later…

Good, God! Now there’s a navy van of some kind over there. I was really worried at first because I thought it was the black Jeep with all the Easter animals, but it was clearly a different vehicle. This one’s got a handicap tag hanging from its rearview mirror and plates in front, which proves the jeep really was out of town and perhaps out of state because Oregon requires plates in front as well as in back. I just want to get out of here before she has tons of kids over again shaking the place apart!