We got to thinking about what could be in the package that’s on its way and so we were taking guesses, and since they said it was heavy and contained odds and ends, we’re guessing kitchen stuff. I hate to say it as it’s not like I still don’t appreciate their taking the time to send stuff, but I hope that’s not it. For two people who aren’t big on cooking, there’s nothing we really need right now in that department, plus we only have so much room to squeeze stuff into this tiny old trailer. Could also be knickknacks, and again, I kind of hope not. After all, I didn’t just sell tons of dolls because we were broke. I did it to save space and have less to have to dust.

I hope there won’t be any pictures of Larry, Tammy or their kids. Again, I just don’t care about any of them. Right or wrong, I don’t want to know they exist. I know a lot of people think forgiveness is only correct, and while there’s certainly nothing to forgive where the girls are concerned, and while I do remember the good times my sister and I had, as well as with my brother and I, I can’t stand them. I just can’t stand these people. And I know that to resume a relationship with them would only be asking for a new round of bullshit in a matter of months. It might even take years, but I don’t need it soon or not so soon. Neither does Tom.

It’s strange yet true that I got screwed over worse by my sister, in some ways, even though she and I were closer. Remember, Larry dumped me for a decade himself between the mid-80s and mid-90s. He had no contact with anyone in the family except for his saint of an uncle.

Tammy’s current husband, assuming they’re still married, probably abuses her be it physically or mentally or verbally or all of the above. And she probably gets off on it, even if it’s deep down on some sort of twisted subconscious level she’s not even aware of. But only she can get her life straightened out. Meanwhile, I’m preoccupied enough as it is trying to straighten my own life out and accept the fact that there’s a damn good chance my husband and I will always be poor and renting old dumps for the rest of our lives.

Despite getting shit on a little harder by her than by my brother, if I absolutely had to take one of them back into my life, it would definitely be her. She has helped me at times, particularly when I made the mistake of moving to S. Deerfield, and then the dumber mistake of moving to CT. My brother, on the other hand, never really did much for me.

I still can’t believe she turned on me like she did. Forget her actions leading me to jail. If I didn’t know there was a warrant out for my ass, she certainly couldn’t have known it. But why did she give the man who abused her my address so he could sic the pigs on me for telling him off??? Regardless of the fact that I didn’t go about it in the greatest manner, why would someone do that? I can only suspect that she still loved the guy, as sick as it is, but as they say, love is blind. It really is.

Sometimes I still want to ask her, hey, why’d you do that? Why’d you defend the guy who abused you and not your little sis, who just wanted to give him a piece of her mind? But no matter what her answer was, it couldn’t change anything. Or the fact that her actions ultimately led me to spend half a year in jail and lose thousands of dollars, not to mention the mental anguish I went through.

Come on Cali weather warm the hell up already! It’s what we moved here for, isn’t it? Then again, life isn’t usually what we plan it to be, and I didn’t plan for the last few mornings, in July of all months, to be so damn chilly.

For last night’s dreams, all I remember is being on a bus with Tom heading for wherever. The bus driver drove fast and dangerously, but I didn’t seem to mind.

I was also in the hospital for a back injury of some kind. The nurses there were rude to me, and then when Tom took me home he insisted I could still go about my usual routine. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to and was surprised he wasn’t telling me to take it easy.