Tom said I shouldn’t go into the idea of moving back to an apartment complex with a negative attitude. I told him that I was only doing that on account of past experience, but I suppose I shouldn’t assume that just because I’ve never had a quiet apartment doesn’t mean I can’t start. Although it’ll take time, maybe I’ll truly come to like it. I’d just hate to get into a house, no matter where it was, and know it could only be temporary. I just want to settle down for once and for all, and if the only place I can do that is in an apartment, so be it. It’s where I was meant to be all along.

I also know that complaining would be useless. If anything, it’d just make the situation worse, and I know Tom. I remember all too well how he’d be quick to automatically defend the neighbors and make excuses for them and I don’t want to deal with that shit all over again. I don’t know why a man would stand by his neighbors and not his wife, but that’s just the way he is. He’s so kissy-ass to neighbors that if they were noisy as hell, he’d still want me to keep my noise from their ears, but I have a problem with respecting those who don’t respect me. I just can’t do that. If I could, I’d still be associating with my family. Either way, I’m not going to return to fighting over neighbors and allowing them to come between us and all that old bullshit all over again.

Most of the apartments in the west had been built to block sight and not sound. Maybe by now, they’ve realized that while most people don’t care, we don’t all want to hear our neighbors. So maybe by now, they’ve built them a little tougher.

At least it’s only one of us that has to adapt. Never do we ever have to worry that he’s going to come out and say, “I can’t stand the noise here, I can’t sleep, I want to move.”

I know I may be tempted to run at first, but when the bumps and bangs and other shit are at their worst, I’ll just have to remember 3 things. The security that apartments bring. The fact that Tom won’t have to do yard work. The fact that I’ll no longer have to worry about the past returning to haunt me if I’m already stuck in it. You can’t get kicked back if you don’t allow yourself to get ahead. Of course, I could throw in the fact that any apartment would be better than Brattleboro, Valleyhead or jail.

I’m not expecting it to be peaceful, I’m just hoping to adapt. Tom said he won’t consider any places that allow pets and C-8, but I don’t know if that’ll make a difference. Everyone had jobs at the Phoenix apartments yet they still managed to drive me crazy before work, after work, on weekends. It’s just the nature of apartments. When you share a building with others, you’re going to hear/feel each other. The question is, will God go out of His way to put us with the elephant walker? The group of college kids? Or how about the Mexican bitch with the army of untamed little siblings that have to spend Christmas with her? The extremes. That’s what I worry about, although sometimes it seems like everyone’s an extreme.

I was thinking earlier about just how much easier the preparations to get out of Oregon are going as opposed to when we were leaving Arizona. Then it hit me that of course God would pave the way for us if He knew we were going to an apartment complex. If it’s to a place I don’t want to be in, He’d never set up any roadblocks like He would if we were trying to run off by ourselves to some secluded mountain. His not allowing me to live where I want to live makes me feel like I don’t deserve any better. Could this possibly be true? Am I simply not worthy of living in peace in a modest place for some reason?

I don’t think I’ll go to the pool that often because I couldn’t have it to myself, and because I’m not into tanning. I can’t tan anyway. I’d just get that awful itchy sun poisoning. I’m not young and thin anymore so I don’t expect people to pay much attention to me at the pool whenever I did go, gay, straight, male or female, which would be the only good thing. Friends mean trouble.

Speaking of apartments, “Dawn” emailed the Vista asking whatever became of the Stacey Searl she knew in ’93. I never got a reply which makes me think she’s long gone, though it would’ve been nice if they could’ve told me that, or she’s still there. I highly doubt she’s still there. Most people don’t have the same job that long and I can’t believe she wouldn’t have eventually gotten fired for misconduct. Whatever her personal reasons really were that motivated her to treat me the way she did, she was the type of person to make just about everybody and anybody miserable. Sooner or later the complaints would’ve added up pertaining to the way she handled things and butted into other people’s business. Once, when Judy was defending her, she said Stacey managed complexes bigger than the Vista in the past. If that’s so, then why step down to a smaller one? Wouldn’t that be like a demotion of sorts?

The midges are just now starting to take over the place. It’s a good thing we’ll be out of here in a week.