As figured, this check wouldn’t scan either and they couldn’t type the information in manually. Even the check cashing place we took it to wouldn’t cash it because BOA has a fucked up policy where they don’t verify funds. They suggested we open an account, yet I was never more grateful that we couldn’t open one because then we’d have to pay for this bogus check in the end. I keep insisting to Tom that these people are scammers, the money doesn’t exist and neither does the account, yet he still wants to fight this losing battle. Well, I’m done with it and I told him so! I’m not going to allow myself to be teased anymore just so these sickos can get off on sending checks they know are no good. Just the fact that they refuse to deposit the money onto our card tells me how full of shit they are, yet Tom doesn’t get it. He still wants to fight this battle we were never destined to win and risk God punishing us just for trying. I wonder if the dream I had was a warning. I had this dream where Tom and I were falling, though in dreams you get to wake up before you hit the ground.

If they were for real, they’d have deposited the money onto the card. Meanwhile, I went and pulled all the cash sweeps from my list. There are just too many scams going on, and even the bank and check cashing place have said so. They won’t even cash cashier’s checks in large amounts because there are so many fraudulent ones out there. Well, I don’t want to get caught up in any scams and be the one to go down for it! That’s just the kind of shit luck I’d have, too.

I can’t believe these people would pay $20 a pop just to have a good laugh. Yet there are plenty of people out there perfectly willing to spite themselves just to spite others. $20 just to be able to say to themselves, “Ha, ha! She thinks she’s getting $2500, but she ain’t getting shit!”

The canal dog’s back to its usual shit, though still nothing from in front.

Kim has a new twist lately and that’s that she’s been coming in with music blasting. It doesn’t surprise me. Neighbors always get noisier with time. I’ve only heard it a few times, though, and as long as it doesn’t get any louder, it’ll be okay. It sure beats all the company she was having a while back.

Liz wasn’t at Safeway earlier, but Lloyd, the manager, was my book consultant and he didn’t even know it. Although the store faces Pine St., it’s actually on N. 8th St. which confirms what it said online. I asked him and he paged someone to verify this for me. I like to have as much realism as I can in my stories, even though the stories themselves are fictitious. I also like to keep my options open. Meaning, if I decide to drop Liz a line after we move and tell her the things I wouldn’t tell her in person, I’ll at least know where to send it. I wouldn’t tell her in person with or without Tom in the picture because it just wouldn’t be an appropriate place or time to do so, not that there’d be enough time in the first place. Of course, I don’t know if she’d think a letter was any more appropriate or what purpose it’d serve, since she may be a bigot for all I know, and since we’ll never even be just friends either way, but I still like to speak my mind. Writing is what I do. I like surprising people, and well, it’s just that eccentric side of me. The thought of writing her amuses me. Part of being unique is being yourself and like I said before, no sickos like down in Phoenix will ever stop me from the right to express myself, especially when it’s not like I’m writing anything I shouldn’t be writing. I’m not even sure I’ll do this. We’ll see when we move.