“Look towards your right,” Tom said as we eased onto the freeway earlier today. “Remember that?”

“Yes,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. I was surprised at the unexpected surge of bad memories that arose from seeing the old storage place, among a few other similar sites in the city. For a few seconds, I could see right where we’d park when getting or bringing things to store. I remembered how in my moment of desperate panic and despair when I thought we weren’t going to make it, I contemplated smashing our stuff, particularly the collectibles, because I didn’t want anyone to profit from our deaths. Even the old oak tree I fell asleep under for 45 minutes during that 36-hour stint of homelessness still had a sad, tired look about it.

I tore my eyes from the grim reminders before they swept out of view as we curved around and onto the freeway and looked through the windshield straight ahead of me. I reminded myself that we didn’t have to return to a Walmart parking lot or a seedy motel in Sacramento’s Northgate area and that we could retreat to our safe and mostly peaceful little retreat in the woods where our expenses are much lower than they were in the fall of 2007. A smile of relief and contentment crossed my face.

Why am I such a wimp, though, compared to Tom? He is so strong compared to his sometimes emotional basket case of a wife. I mean I know I’m tough in a lot of ways. Going through a lot of the rough patches in life I’ve gone through has made me stronger in many ways. But in many ways, it weakens the spirit. PTS is no fun at all. I still have nightmares about being stuck in places like motels, funny farms, jails and Valleyhead. I was stuck in VH last night, as a matter of fact. But I wasn’t a kid again like I usually am in these dreams. We were all the middle-aged adults we are today but we still had to be there for some reason. I’d rather the 20,000-dollar abortions.

Red Lobster was the circus we figured it’d be. Actually, it was worse since it was between lunch and dinner when we went and we thought it’d be a little better at that time. We ordered to go but still had to wait half an hour.

I got the stuffed mushrooms and he got peppercorn steak with potatoes and salad with ranch dressing. He doesn’t do salads, but his wife and rat do. So we all enjoyed our feast to the tune of the wind chimes going crazier than usual since there was a storm rolling in. I’m sure mine is the only rat that ate like a king today in the entire state of Califuckedup (yes, Andy, I know you’ll love that one).

Along with their signature Cheddar Bay Biscuits, the stuffed mushrooms were great and so were the mashed potatoes. Very buttery and creamy. The steak, however, was a bit tough, dry and definitely too peppery.

The troll is now wishing her mother would die too, along with Alison for calling her an ungrateful child. She sure does act like a child and she sure has a lot of hate and anger in her. More than I ever had at my angriest of times. She also admitted to stalking people, particularly Alison, and using others to try to pass messages to her. But the back-and-forth contradictions and hypocrisy live on. She wrote in one post that she was leaving thoughts.com because she feels like she is the most hated member there (gee, I wonder why) and that her parents don’t want her blogging anymore because of the shit she says. Yet barely an hour later she makes a post introducing herself as if she were brand new to the site.

Due to how cruel and horrifying her words have become, Alison contacted her mother on Facebook, though she admits it may not do her any good. I hate to say it but I think it will take something a lot more drastic than their darling daughter just threatening them before they wake up and smell the coffee where she’s concerned and stop defending and making excuses for her. Something’s going to actually have to happen like Molly actually harming someone. I wonder if it’s getting close to that point, too.

If I myself ever want to go back to blogging in peace I’ll probably have to do it under an alias and change the names of my friends and family as well. But I want to wait a while for those other reasons besides Molly. Yeah, tomorrow the pig stress is back on. I’m not scared, but I’m a bit worried. Tom assures me Arizona has no jurisdiction over me and that the worst that could happen would be the local cops questioning me, but let’s hope it doesn’t even come to that! Still, I’d rather be questioned than arrested, and worse… extradited, tried, convicted and jailed.

Later…

I deleted my thoughts.com blog even though it only had like 20 entries in it. I started to mark my profile private but then decided to leave it public because I’m curious to see when and if the troll will give up on checking on me. She’s still pretty consistent. Not every other minute like she used to check in on me when I was writing there, but every hour or so. Sadly, I think that as long as she can get online unsupervised, she’ll check all my abandoned/private/public sites every day for the rest of her life. That’s why going under an alias at an undisclosed location will probably be my best bet if I go public blogging again, along with changing the names of friends and family. I won’t even tell them about it. They can just keep on getting direct entries via email or Facebook. Public blogging, if I return to it, will be just for fun and not a means of keeping friends and family up to date like it used to be. From what I’ve heard, it’s okay to use a pen name as long as you don’t claim to be the president or anything like that.

I almost deleted my MD and MO blogs but couldn’t do it. Not something I can just “kill” easily anymore than the one on my hard drive and that’s a 24-year journal. Does one throw away 24 years of printed life that easily, even if some of it was no joyride? When October 27, 1987 rolled around, I picked up a pen and never looked back. Only difference is I traded pens for keyboards 5 years into it. Pink, purple, black, blue, red, green…I’ve discussed my days in so many different colors and in 5 different states. Well, more than 5 states and even more than just this country since I did do a little writing in Florida and at sea when we went cruising to the Bahamas and Puerto Rico. Would’ve done it in the Grand Turks too, had a storm not made the waters too dangerous to try to dock in.

Marie used to say that the best way to go out of this world would be with a beer in one hand and a woman in the other. With me, I’d take Tom in one hand and my journal in the other.

One of Sharyn’s sisters was down in Florida visiting her mom when she was swimming on her back in a pool and rammed her head against the side of it. The next day she felt woozy and was taken to the hospital where it was discovered that her brain was bleeding. She must’ve been swimming super fast and really rammed it hard!

We did more fine-tuning and setting up on my PC. It sucks too, cuz I feel like I’m learning computers all over again as I learn the new ways of doing things on the Mac. We swapped mice too, since mine was acting up. Mice and I don’t seem to get along. Glad I got a rat! Although he’s not usually stupid enough to do something he knows he’s not supposed to do when I’m watching, if I’m in the other room and he can get into it, he will. Tom and I were in one room working on my computer and I forgot that the rat had been out for a while in the other room. So I went to check on him and sure enough, the furry little pervert was pulling my panties out of the hamper.

Tomorrow it’s back to working off the weight I gained over the weekend. When am I going to stop doing that and stop gaining on weekends what I took off during the week?

I think of good things. Good things going on today and good hopes for tomorrow. And then the freeloaders and pigs pop into mind and ruin it all. Will they really just sigh and realize that yes, I am out of their jurisdiction and give up on me? Or will they refuse to let me go and then do whatever they have to do, legal or not, to get at me? Really, will I be forced to go down there and remove them from my ass somehow, some way, or will they just let me be and go chase murderers, rapists and child molesters?

How I spent so many years in the past wishing they would just forget about me! Always with me, always with them. That’s what I used to feel my whole life was and would be when it came to the haters and how they affected my life both directly and indirectly. Those I wish would remember me more often if ever at all never seem to do so while those I wish would just forget about me and go away forever cling to me like the most faithful of lovers.

To help ease my anxieties I try to let my creative side come out to play and make a game of the weekday stress I will go through for probably some time to come, especially since Tom’s not around then. Why couldn’t this have happened when he was on unemployment? Ah, but on the flip side, we’ve now got money saved to run with if need be. On unemployment, how could we run? We’d probably have to run to a cheap, noisy apartment, but it would be much better than jail, out of their jurisdiction or not. Yeah, I know. The PTSD is just making me paranoid. Like crazy paranoid.

So in my mind, I will have a gorgeous foreign bodyguard looking out for me when he’s not here. :)

It’s what they framed me with that worries me. Tom says there’s no point in worrying since I can’t control them and what’s done is done, but I can’t help but wonder and worry about it just the same, and whether or not there’s a connection between them and whoever was in my computer.

Tomorrow will make one week since the pig emailed me and if I hear anything else from the cock I’m going to go from concerned to pissed. But why oh why did the Mexican pig have to email the black pig to say a case had been made against me??? This one has me baffled as hell. Tom said they just pulled off addies I’d sent unwanted stuff to, but then why wasn’t the black bitch herself emailed? Didn’t she get unwanted stuff? Isn’t my hurting someone’s feelings, pissing them off, and bruising their ego what started this shit? I don’t even know that I did in fact email anything to the black pig. I know I sent a message or two to the company holding that contest when we were up in Oregon, and I know I bashed the cock on Rate My Cop but that’s it. And what about the one with the invalid domain? What the hell was that about? I’m suspecting it was a trap of sorts. I think they hope I’ll panic at the thought of the black pig being contacted in regards to me or that it’ll piss me off and make me contact him. But I know that even in the toughest state in the country they simply cannot make a “case” out of anything I’ve ever sent. It’s just not enough. Nothing I sent could possibly constitute as threatening or even slightly bordering on “hateful” in the kind of way I’m sure the black bitch wishes it did. Unless they made it look that way and this is what worries me most.

Tom says they can’t set a court date if they can’t serve me, but that’s not what I’ve heard. First of all, I think they can have me served if they really want to (probably at this address since this is the one tied in with the net), and secondly, I heard that a summons is still valid as long as they send it to your last known address whether you’re there or not. This means that they’re going to set a date for me to be arraigned, with or without my knowing about it just like they did shortly after we got into the Maricopa house, and then there’ll be a default warrant on me when I don’t show up. I’d love to check for warrants now since they usually arraign you within days of making a case, but I could be being watched. I want to appear as oblivious to them as possible if I appear at all. Tom still promises that going off the grid will do the trick because that way I don’t exist.

But I do exist and unfortunately so do these hateful, vengeful assholes that may not want to give up on me so easily and that may want to relentlessly pursue me as if I’d actually done something other than express myself and as if I’d actually hurt someone. They made me feel like such a criminal 12 years ago! Just such a total criminal. Even I had to remind myself at times that hey, I didn’t kill anybody. I didn’t even slap them. There’s no Failure to Appear on me so yeah, it was a scam. It better be!

looks upward and wonders Will God protect me this time? Or will He throw me to the lions, sit back and watch while He leaves me completely helpless against these whackos? Please, God! Please don’t beat me over the head with these people! It’s not funny. It wasn’t funny the last time. It won’t be funny if there’s a next time either. Please, please, don’t do it!