You’d never know I was once a dancer if you saw what a fatty I am right now, LOL. But that’s what I get for spending so much time eating too much and moving too little. But I am making progress, however slow it may be. Regardless of weight, I feel so much better already and I love the way it’s firming up my body. I’d rather be fat and fit than thin and unfit. Yesterday I ran a little faster at 3.5 MPH, but only for 10 minutes and with a 52-calorie burn.

Anyway, happy Monday, everyone since it’s just after midnight now. I hope this week brings me some good wins! Last week was kind of a dry week.

I got to talking about my old neighbors – the ones that were the most problematic – and was asked if I myself did anything wrong during the years we were neighbors or if I was the perfect little neighbor all along. Well, we’re all human. That means that sometimes we’re right, sometimes we’re wrong. And I have no problem admitting when I’ve done something I shouldn’t have done. So the answer is no. I’m no angel. Never have been never will be, although I do try to treat others with kindness and respect and am a little more forgiving than I wish I was or even like to admit I am. I hate to fight with people. Disagreeing is one thing, fighting is another. I was a prankster in my younger days who could be a bit of a spoiled brat. These days, however, I really would prefer to keep the peace. I’ll do what I have to defend my rights, my property, my loved ones and myself, but I’d rather not have to do so to begin with.

But now that person - or possible persons – is stalking me online, following me from site to site, and their latest site to play with me on was Pandora. If it’s not really them, then it’s someone doing a fine job of making it look like it is. I have pulled a certain email that was suggested to me from the auto-send feature after getting an “anonymous tip” that someone had used my Pandora account to post parts of this journal (they edited some of it) in their comment section, so I ran and changed my PW, then left a few comments of my own in my defense.

So someone who apparently knows them seems to want to “protect” me from any evil intentions they may have in mind, and again, if it isn’t them (and I admit that you can’t always know for sure who’s on the other end of a computer as it could be anybody) then they’ve done a good job making it look like it’s them.

Back to what they asked me – no, I wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t loud, rude, inconsiderate, obnoxious, and hell-bent on rubbing my presence in their faces and making my every move known to them right down to every little hiccup, but I sent them some journal excerpts (which I suspect were altered) that I should not have sent. It may be no excuse, but in my mind, I did it as a way of venting. They really put a world of stress on me.

They probably never knew who sent it but one day they received an anonymously sent card with confetti in it, a joke I learned from a friend who pulled the same stunt on me, knowing they’d open the card and that the confetti would fall out and make a mess. Well, that was me who carried out that lovely deed.

I was cleaning up some of the crap one day that they’d toss over the block wall and was already in a foul mood. My 16-year-old nephew had just been killed in an accident. My sadness and my rage at God and His unfairness along with a glass bottle in my hand at the time wasn’t exactly a great mix. I hurled the bottle over the wall and it smashed all over their carport.

Last thing – right after they moved I called them at the new place. The lady that answered thought I was someone she knew and I went along with it. She probably eventually realized who it really was, but no, I was no angel. It doesn’t compare to stealing one’s sleep, peace and sanity for a few years, then their freedom and bank account for another few years for something I actually did not do while they lied to the police, DA and media, but no, I wasn’t perfect. Happy?

Did it tarnish my view of people of that race? I’ve been asked. Yeah, for a while it did. And while studies show that men in certain groups tend to be a bit aggressive while the ladies in some groups tend to walk around with a chip on their shoulders, I understand there are good and bad in all kinds. If I wouldn’t hate all whites if a white person burned me, then why should I hate all non-whites if one of them burned me?

What did I do? That was another question. When I was really young I mostly babysat and worked in the housekeeping department of hotels. When I was just young I sang and danced. Then I shifted to entering sweeps/contest in my 30s, and writing and languages. I’ve always been into writing and languages, I just didn’t do it professionally till my 40s.

Where have I lived – New England till I was 26, then 12 years in Arizona, 3 in Oregon and going on 4 in Cali.

I speak – fluent ASL and somewhat Spanish. I know a lot of Italian and Portuguese and some German and Esperanto. Other Romance Languages are at least somewhat comprehensible to me as well like French and Catalan.

My best personality traits – I’m smart and I’m damn funny.

My worst personality traits – I’m a bitch and I can be very negative and impatient.

Best physical features – hair and eyes, though I think my days of sitting on my hair are over.

Worst features – definitely the legs and teeth.

Time changes most of us for the better. However, these were the types of people who could care less about others and I’d be willing to bet they still wouldn’t care if I lived or died. On the flip side, I’d be the biggest liar on earth if I said I cared about them. Curiosity is one thing, caring is another. It’s all the same to me if they won $100 or stepped on a sharp nail.

Hey, I just said I could be a bitch, didn’t I?

Later…

Had a couple of strange dreams and one was a bit alarming when you consider my track record for dream premonitions of a bad kind. As I’ve said before, sometimes reality plays out exactly like the dream, other times it’s just a warning of trouble to come but may not be the kind of trouble that occurred in the dream. Well, it was but it could’ve been a lot worse as long as there’s no more bad news around the corner. I don’t have any bad vibes right now, so I hope not.

The strange dream was about the dogs. They were barking their asses off and I yelled out the window for them to be quiet. The landscape looked different than it really is. Instead of hills in the woods, it looked flat and open like the desert. They ignored me and so I ordered them to be quiet again. They still ignored me. Then I looked out to see that while Whiskey was far off in the distance, Brandy was struggling nearby as if she were caught in something.

So I ran to get a better look at what held Brandy trapped, but suddenly we were in the basement of some house and not outdoors. I crept through a large room and then into a smaller room where Brandy was whimpering and struggling to free herself from where she was on the cement gray floor. I looked back at Tom who was right behind me and said, “It’s what I think it is.” Then I looked back at Brandy who sat atop a black king snake and appeared cat size instead of the 50 or so pounds she really is. The snake, even though not poisonous, somehow prevented her from moving.

Tom passed me and touched the tip of the snake curiously. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s just let them die off and then we’ll bag them up.”

That was the end of that dream, LOL.

The worrisome one was of us on the road somewhere. Something was wrong with the car. He stopped, got out to inspect things, then reentered the car saying something about “bear beads.” When I later got up I wondered if that really meant ball bearings.

I shook my head in the dream and said, “It’s like everything on a car is set to expire at the same time.”

“Well, it actually gives out little by little,” Tom said, “but when you only have 100 bucks…”

I started to panic and asked if he wanted me to call my parents for help.

“That’ll be the next step,” he said, and then I woke up, worried that something was going to go wrong.

About an hour later he went to check our debit card and found that the money he transferred to it hadn’t shown up yet. Fortunately, we’re not desperate for money right now so it’s not the big deal it might’ve been if we needed it right away.

Notice it’s always the bad things that come true? I haven’t won that $2500 I dreamt of winning yet and so I’m hoping that now that I’m finally able to sleep straight through and aren’t in constant pain anymore I’ll go back to winning something good every few days or so.

Heard from a lot of people today. Shelley told me she was sorry about my tooth pain and was going back to Maine and partying with friends. LOL, she sounds like she’s still in her 20s.

Andy got the camera, Kim tweeted to me, Mitch emailed me and Tammy left a message asking if I remember her, LOL. I think that was in regard to a discussion I was having with someone about some “friends” not keeping in touch as much as we’d like. I let her know that she wasn’t one of the ones we were referring to.

Last night I finally broke through my writer’s block and hope to keep going with my story, but am still unsure as to how I want to end this one.

In one of Kim’s tweets she said that before the troll deleted her blogs, she had a little hate list going. Alison was #1 and she was #4. Didn’t see my name on it, though. Let me guess, Roman and Kathy were #2 and #3, right?

There was something chilling about hearing about that hate list of hers. She may be a woman and she may be slightly disabled, but don’t most of the people who suddenly go out and start shooting randomly in public have hate lists also? Tom said the crazy people do. But that’s just it; this girl is crazy. I just wonder if she’s the type to one day snap without warning as harmless as she may seem today.

Head beating. Yeah, this next part is going to sound kind of sick. I don’t get it myself. All I know is I’ve been consumed with the desire to beat my head in the wall regularly though I only did it that one time my gums were really hurting. It not only seemed like a distraction and release from the pain but my curiosity was drawn to the idea of it. I can’t do it with Tom around, of course, and it’s harder to bring myself to do when I’m not in pain, angry or depressed. But I wonder about it. Would I die in time if I kept doing it? Who knows for sure, but what I do know is that I don’t want any unwanted effects from it like severe headaches to add to any physical or mental pain I may already be feeling. And I certainly wouldn’t want Tom thrown in jail if I did die. That would be totally something God would do too; protect my perps but have an innocent man charged with my murder that wasn’t even murder.