Ah, it smells so good in here! Especially after having to smell ammonia for nearly an hour as the dark blond hair dye sat on my head. I started a new Glade plug-in going – the Hawaiian one – while I rinsed it out in the shower. Then returned to the room to find it smelling a lot better.

My new flat iron is frying the hell outa my hair so I’ve got to turn down its settings and use it less often.

Soon I’ll have Tom take some new pics of me and will update various profile pages of mine with the smarter but older, fatter, uglier me. :) The only ones I really need to update, though are Facebook and MySpace. The pics there were taken right before we left Arizona, so they’re about 6 years old. All other pics are less than a year old, like on the diary site which was taken last fall. Sometimes I just like to use pics of pets, flowers or scenery.

We got a set of cordless phones and they’re so nice! Why couldn’t phones like this have existed back when I was really into phones? I’m amazed at how lightweight the phones and chargers are. The phones have speakers in them, and they make for a good intercom system as well. We still have the older phone hooked to the landline that was included in our internet package.

Talked to Marie on her break before her coworkers came to join her and they all went to eat. She’s down to 138 pounds, getting a bit low for someone who’s 5’ 6”. I hope she’ll quit losing soon.

She joked about shaving her head and checking out dirty pictures on her break. She would too, LOL. I never liked women with no hair or overly short hair, but it’s her hair.

“Just warning you,” she said, “I found a pic of you at Valleyhead. Becky took it, but I can’t remember her last name.”

I knew it was H and she was amazed at my memory. Becky was a good kid, though I don’t remember her taking the pic. In the drugged-up stupor that I lived in back then, I’m not surprised. Marie says I was singing and playing my guitar in the pic and has several VH pics she plans to post in her Webshits album soon. That ought to be interesting to see. I don’t miss the place and don’t want to be reminded of it and how miserable I was, but it would still be cool to see who I may remember.

Marie thanked me for sticking by her and promises not to contact me during the week she’s on the rag cuz she doesn’t want to fight even though she loves it when I go off. Yeah, but she can shove a broom handle up her ass during those 12 weeks in a year. :)

It was dead quiet all morning, but Tom said Jesse wasn’t home when he came and went from Walmart, so he obviously took the dogs with him. Wish he’d do that more often!

I couldn’t resist. I had to do it. I don’t know why, but I did. And it felt good, too. :) I sent a message to Nickolena asking that she give her mom the link I enclosed which went straight to my journal, of course. In it, I posted an entry with her name in it that read:

Evie. I wonder about her at times. I don’t want to talk to her, but I do think of her from time to time and hope she’s doing well. We didn’t know each other very well, but we did chat on the phone a few times and swap a few emails right before we left Phoenix.

Then one day after we moved, Tom came home and said his mother was upset, and a conversation followed that went something like this:

“What for?” I asked.

“Because Evie told her she was upset with you for asking that she leave the kids behind if they visit us at the new place.”

“But why didn’t Evie just come to me about it? If I was the one she had a problem with, why did she go to Mom?”

I knew from past experience just how destructive little kids could be, and Evie didn’t seem big on discipline, which had become nearly illegal by then anyway. Today you go to jail for simply yelling at your kids. Years ago you got away with a hell of a lot worse than the worst things my own parents ever did to me.

Nonetheless, I always wanted to tell her that. That really bothered me the way she went to the queen like she did and not to me directly. This is partly why I don’t hate her or anything like that – she is a sweet person otherwise – but don’t want to associate with her. I mean, why bother? She’s hundreds of miles away and we hardly know each other or have much in common. I just A, wanted her to know I didn’t appreciate her doing that but have no hard feelings, and B, I once again got a kick out of the idea of someone I used to know reading my journal, if she wasn’t already aware of it. And of course, Miss Perfect will hear all about it!

Oh, how therapeutic the net has become, though it can never “fix” what the black bigots down in Arizona did to me. Just make me feel a little better.

Not surprisingly, I never heard back from Evie or Maliheh. I didn’t want to either.