I wasn’t so sure MyOpera would appreciate my political rant in one of my previous entries, so I deleted it. I’m going to really enjoy being my own boss once I get my own site going. Could still be a while, though, what with everything else we got going on. It says in their TOS that anything vulgar, hateful or sexual isn’t allowed, and while plenty of others seem to be able to get away with it, I’m not usually good at getting away with things, so I toned that entry down.

The good news is that I’m really racing toward the finish line with my book! Just maybe I will get it done before the month is out, but if I don’t, I should have it done by mid-August. I’m excited!

I was remembering when Andy and I would go to the beach – he would always do the driving, of course, since I don’t drive – we had this point in the drive where I would start writing in my journal. Of course I did that all by hand back then as this was in the late 80s. There was this certain bend in the road on our way to the beach in Old Slyme, CT, as we’d call it, where I would start writing and for some reason, he really liked that. The trip usually took a little over an hour and this “writing point” was about 20 minutes from the beach. At least I think it was.

I was also remembering how we stayed at Ho Jo’s for one or two nights with a friend of his named Juliet. She had long dark hair. I think they were neighbors as kids. It was mean of us to laugh, but we couldn’t help but crack up with laughter when she was telling us about a mean prank she pulled as a kid. I guess her mother was a shrink or some kind of counselor who saw patients at her home. One of the patients would freak out over the sound of electric garage doors opening and closing, for some reason, and Juliet and what I think may’ve been her siblings would sneak into the garage and open and close the door just to get the person going, LOL.

I forgot to mention that he told me he took in Quinn’s cat after he killed himself. Quinn had her for 4 years and Andy had her for 9 years. It was their child, in a sense, and he loved her very much. But by the time he knew he was leaving Arizona, she’d gotten really old, and he prayed to God to please take her before he left, knowing she’d never survive the cross-country trip, and He did.

Leave it to God to grant Andy’s request to take a cat while He ignores my request to take the queen. I prayed so many times back in Phoenix that He take her! Alive she was nothing but a burden to others, yet dead there were people that really could’ve used her money. Healthy people with years of life ahead of them and many more expenses than she had to deal with. She will be 87 this month! I vibed she’d die at 86 or 87 of a stroke, but with everyone’s shit luck, not that we’ll be getting a damn thing from her when she finally does croak, she’ll make it to 100. That’s just more punishment for Miss Perfect, though.

Wonder how long it will take Maliheh to return to my blog on her own with no prompting from me.

Or the sicko that victimized me in Arizona? Yeah, I finally found her on Facebook. I was doing this job on the Turk where you look up profile links by email addresses. I didn’t know you could do that, so I decided to see if I could find her by her email addy since I could never find her by name. So I ran her addy and up came that pitifully ugly face of hers framed by a clownish hairstyle that makes her look as if she’d been electrocuted. I don’t just say she’s ugly because of all I suffered on account of her, but because it’s so true. Damn, is she hideous! And her thick, black-framed glasses only add to her ugliness.

But the real ugliness is inside. Deep inside that soul lies a very hateful, vindictive, vengeful person who got away with an awful lot of shit, and who helped get my own self a sentence fit for someone who’d kicked the crap out of someone pretty bad.

Okay, I don’t want to waste any more time on this pitiful excuse for a human being. I’ve got work to do.

Oh, wait! I called Stacey, too. I thought of who I may want to call now that I have free long-distance and her name popped into mind. No, I’m not making pranks, of course, but I just wanted to call once just to rattle Stacey’s nerves. Maybe God doesn’t “karmatize” those that have wronged me, but I sure sometimes do, even if it’s in a very small way. I could never have the kind of power over my abusers like they had over me. That’s why they screwed me in the first place; because they were the ones that could, not that I wanted to screw them if I’d been the one with the power.

I got an answering machine with whom I assume was James speaking, saying he was leaving an outgoing message with the help of “Sparky,” a dog I could hear barking in the background. I simply said, “I’m not sure if Stacey lives here, but this is Jodi. I got an urgent message to call this number right away. Something about needing my permission for a book deal. Well, if your caller ID is working, you know my number.”

Hahahahaha!!!

None of the Laurie numbers panned out, and I decided not to bother with Michelle. Although she might be able to give me some clues that may help me find Laurie.

I doubt I’ll get the right Jan, but maybe I’ll try to reach her, though I’ll try her at a decent hour, unlike Stacey, LOL.