Just sitting here enjoying the peacefulness of the predawn hours before the scattered loud trucks, motorcycles and barks start up.

Tom wonders if he’s got too much iron in his blood and that may also be part of why he’s tired. I asked how he’d deal with that if that’s true, and he says the way to help that is to lose some blood. So what’s he gonna do, become suicidal and start cutting himself? He said he may consider donating blood.

Yesterday turned out to be a miserable day. The net wasn’t out too long, but now the hot water is leaking in the tub, and my allergies nearly drove me to smash my nose right off my face. Tom checked the leak and said it isn’t anything to worry about and that we won’t lose propane over it. I still want out of here like yesterday! I’m sick of all the problems this place has and I know it’s only a matter of time before another crisis hits. Something huge. Well, I don’t want to be here when the roof leaks, the floor caves in, the electrical fails, and the stove and fridge crap out. Those are the only things left that haven’t let us down yet. Old places may have problems but I’ve lived in places much older than this that didn’t have nearly as many problems. I swear there’s been a breakage curse on us ever since we met, which means it would follow us from place to place, but I’d rather play fix-it in a place of our own so we could fix it our way and on our own time. Right now I worry we’ll never get out of here. Tom wants to wait till we get Walter’s update. If we get any money - and there are still no guarantees - it’s not going to be till January or February.

Tom got me Nasal Crom nose spray. Hopefully, it will stop the attacks.

Hope I can get copies of the letters my mom exchanged with The Queen of Mean. That oughta be interesting. Really, I’d just love to read them, LOL.

Renate and I agreed to swap postcards because to her that’s more “real” than being just virtual friends. She’s mailing a card to me next Monday and I think it takes something like 14 days to get halfway around the world. She’s going to write in both English and German and so am I. Within a week or two I’ll pick up a card for her and off it will go to Austria.

Nane had me laughing my ass off earlier saying she wasn’t going to play my voice post at work. Smart. :) She knows Lady Rainbow isn’t exactly office material, hahaha.

Poor girl isn’t too happy otherwise. Winter’s hit her full force and her boss is pissed at her for making a fatal mistake.

Mary and I exchanged Halloween ecards, even though I’m not big on holidays, and when I used to be, New Year’s Eve was my favorite.

What happened to Phillip? He never returned to Facebook.

Last night was the second night of not hearing any mice, so maybe the thing we have plugged in really does work. It’s supposed to send a high-frequency sound through the wires underneath the place that only they can hear and that they find annoying. It cycles on and off, but doesn’t run continuously or else they’d just get used to it. It’s also good for keeping spiders away. Too bad we can’t use it when we have rats.

Later…

I’d really like to know if northern Connecticut lost power due to Sandy yesterday afternoon. That’s where Kim is, and if I could know she was without power, that would rule out thinking she could be one of the ones who asked me if I track old friends online. Then I would know it was Molly. Kim doesn’t live far from Andy, and Andy never lost power, so I think it probably was her. If it were Molly she would’ve checked my blogs. Molly never makes any attempts to hide. Kim does. Yet I know damn well she reads my blog due to the comments she’s left.

I went to take a shower this morning, shoved the shower curtain aside, and then I saw a miracle. An honest to God miracle. The tub wasn’t dripping at all. Not one single drop was visible and it was completely dry. Same with after my shower.

It’s been an amazingly quiet morning so far, though it’s not even noon yet.

Saw some pictures of Sandy’s damage. Damn! Makes me realize this place ain’t so bad after all. At least it’s not floating in 4 feet of water and it’s got power.

I’ve lost 5 pounds in 16 days. Hope I can keep the trend going. Speaking of trends, if the net’s up to speed I’ll go do another VP on LJ

I looked out at the cage on the porch and tears stung my eyes. We’ve got bedding, we’ve got food. I can’t wait anymore. I’m getting new baby(ies) this weekend.

I realize, based on reading back on past journals and by what people say, that I’ve gotten to be a rather “dramatic” and “dynamic” writer. I once wrote a story that contained an earthquake scene. The person who read it and gave me feedback said I didn’t really make her feel the fear one should feel if caught in an earthquake. And so I vowed to improve on getting the emotions across, so to speak, whether they were positive or negative. Well, it seems I’ve gotten a little too good at it. While my life isn’t perfect any more than anyone else’s, 2012 has been good to me for the most part. When Andy pointed out that one wouldn’t know that based on my writing, I could see what he meant. One who didn’t know me well would think I was miserable just with the things I’ve had to say about my parents. Oh, they’ve made me miserable, all right. Just not directly for many years. But the things they did were horrible and I can see where that would have a negative effect on the reader, thus giving them the impression that I was miserable at the time I wrote it, much in the way I was miserable as a kid. Guess I need to work on being less of a melodramatic writer, so to speak.

I’ve noticed this when reading back on certain things. Like my life in Oregon. I read back on some stuff from that time and some of it sounded like I was more stressed out than I remember feeling. I was depressed during the first year, but I wasn’t nearly as anxious as I made myself sound in the last two years.

It’s been the opposite with other things. In some ways, my writing while at this project in Connecticut may lead one to think it wasn’t that bad, but it was hell. No doubt about that.

My allergies are on the warpath again. Had the windows open and the cooler running, so yeah, it’s definitely something outside that’s bugging me. No working out or cleaning for me. I’m too groggy from the semi-worthless Benadryl I took, and I don’t want to go sneezing all over the treadmill.

It hit Tom that if I look back in my old journals for the name of the snot spray I was on back in 2000, we may now be able to get it over the counter. He’s going to look for names, or at least similar versions, to Vancenase and Nasonex. The snot sprays prevented the attacks from starting altogether and eventually, I could stop taking them.

Superstorm Sandy has been rocking the northeast, but amazingly the mega storm hasn’t knocked Andy’s power out. He said it’s been windy, but that’s it. So far anyway. They’ve canceled flights, and schools and basically shut down everything and anything all over the Northeast. As I told my overseas friends, though, I’m safe from the storm being on the other side of the country, 3000 miles away.

Left a voice post on LJ speaking German, Spanish and Italian. Just a few quick sentences. I appreciate Renate’s feedback. I guess I’m doing better than I thought with just one shaky word.

I spoke with Walter yesterday and just when I thought my mom wouldn’t be full of any more surprises, he had quite a bomb to drop on me. She was exchanging letters with The Queen of Mean, Leona Helmsley, imprisoned for tax evasion! I was like Leona Helmsley?!?! Did she write to Aileen Wournos too, before they executed her for the 7 guys she killed? Why didn’t Tammy tell me that one? That one beats flunking out of high school any day! The high school thing wasn’t overly shocking. We knew she was a fucktard. Hey, even the pervert’s probably smarter than she was. I wonder if Dad knew about this. I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. It’s funny in a way as I hate the government, but it’s sad that my mother cared more about writing this mean bitch than her own kids, and even Walter agreed.

I once worked for the Queen of Mean as a housekeeper in one of her hotels, though I never met her. From everything I read up on her, though, she was one mean-assed bitch. An awful lot like my mother was, so I can see why she’d have been drawn to the woman. Both were mean, rude, selfish, materialistic bitches from hell, only one was rich and one just pretended to be. This is a woman who left 12 million to her dog and anywhere from nothing to 5 million to her grandkids.

Walter seems like a very liberal, kind and empathetic guy. It came up when Walter was sympathizing with me and saying that while everyone loved Dad, no one had anything nice to say about Mom. He said he could relate as he came from an alcoholic family. That’s when he told me she was writing the bitch.

We got to talking about writing and blogging and he said Tammy said I was a fabulous writer and I guess he likes to write too, but has been shy about it. I told him not to be and when I told him about my books/blog he seemed interested. I let him know I’d send him links once I got the email he plans to send. He’s very liberal, too. I told him he needed to be to read my stories and why and he said, “I don’t care. I’ve had lots of gay and lesbian clients and friends.” Then he whined about the Republicans.

The good news is that I still may get something. The condo’s up for $124K and the store sold for 37K, I think he said. He’s gonna be mailing a detailed email about all the debt and things for sale. The bitch apparently went credit card crazy after dad died and racked up tons of debt. The more she had to care for him in the end, the less attention she was able to pay to the store.

Later…

As I sit here with my nose plugs on so I can get through this entry without sneezing, I wait for my second round of Benadryl to knock me out. Until then I’ll write about the highly disturbing dream I had last night that isn’t going online even in a private entry.

It was the blacks. They couldn’t get me from Arizona so they all moved here in order to be able to fuck with me. The only odd thing was that we were living in a hotel at the time. Yeah, a hotel and the blacks all rolled into one. It was a fancy hotel, though, seeing that Lady Gaga performed in the parking lot every night. But still… I really hope this isn’t a sign of anything bad to come! God loves to kick us when we’re down but He also loves to kick us when we’re up, too. I never know if they’re going to hack into my computer and set me up or fabricate something else if they can’t.

Only in part of the dream did my dream self believe they followed me here. In another part of the dream, we learned that she actually moved here first and we coincidentally ended up here as well. I realized it wouldn’t look that way, though, and that it wouldn’t make me look good at all.

In real life, I would never go to court unless I was forced to but I was given a bunch of printouts in court nonetheless, of stuff I supposedly sent the bitch. It was weird, though, as it was mostly weather reports and other senseless stuff, but my dream self knew I did indeed send it. Next thing I know I’m in a crowded courtroom and someone’s saying, “The media needs to get this stuff out of the paper,” shaking a copy of the printouts.

Then I walked up to a table in which an older woman, who I knew to be the judge, sat going through some papers. Several others buzzed about the table. She looked up at me and said something about the media, apparently thinking I was with the media. When I told her who I was she regarded me with shame in her eyes.

That pretty much told me enough right there, and after there was some discussion about how I would attend to all my little court calls since Tom had to work, I promised myself I’d never return to court. I don’t think I was supposed to return till March, though. The dream ended with me wondering if we should leave the state.

I REALLY hope to hell I’m not psychic anymore! I just worry this is a sign of bad things to come even if they don’t have anything to do with the blacks.

I’m surprised but flattered to learn that Tammy already read Renting Ginny. She read the copy I sent Dad. As much of an enabler as he was, I’m still glad that he got to read one of my books right before he died.

She’s also been reading my MD blog. I’m not surprised. I figured she’d prefer to go to my trackless blog, but maybe not. Some people really do like it for its simplicity. Still, I’m not surprised she’s going somewhere because I know she likes to read my journal, probably not just to see what’s up with me, but what I may say about her as well. Well, when I failed to see her show up on TIP, I figured she was going to MD.

The attorney did try to call me back but we missed each other, and as usual, there were phone issues. The MagicJack won’t work right cuz of the shitty connection and I wasn’t sure how to retrieve messages from the cell. I only use it to call out so I never got to learn much about how it functions. I’ll try calling him back on Monday, though I don’t see what he can tell me that Tammy hasn’t already told me. My folks, who always had to put on a show, were in debt. I know that. I’m not getting anything. I know that, too. But at least others particularly Jennifer, won’t be getting anything either.

The store just sold, but between the two mortgages the bitch took out, they’re still in the negative.

Tammy totally regrets promising Dad, as he lay dying in his hospital bed, to take care of Mom. Even her kids can’t figure out why she’d bother to take care of someone who never gave a shit about her. Giving birth doesn’t make one a mother. BEING a mother is what makes them a mother. Yet she was hardly a mother to Larry and Tammy and even less of one to me since she cut out of motherhood a few years early with me by sending me away when I was 15. Except for a few months after my 16th birthday, I never returned home till I was 18. By 19 I was gone for good. Tammy’s lost thousands of dollars and countless hours with her husband just to pamper this abusive bitch till it croaked in the end, much more peacefully than it ever should have. As I said in my last entry, God will see to it that my husband and I, who never harmed a child in our lives, go out alone and in pain. Then again, unless we die together in an accident or something, one of us won’t be alone. Just in pain.

While Tammy and I may be two totally different people with different likes, abilities, interests, lifestyles, etc., we’re both big on keeping promises so she kept hers to Dad. I don’t know why, but that’s just how I’ve always been. If you tell me not to tell anyone something you tell me, I never will. If I fail to keep my word to you it’s only because something came up to prevent me from keeping it and not because I chose to break my promise.

Despite being happy overall, there is so much anger toward my parents. Much more so than ever before, and sometimes when we’re angry it’s hard to focus on the good things we have in life. Damn them for leading me to believe they would leave me a substantial amount after they croaked! I didn’t expect millions, but I expected something and not just a grand or two either. And damn God for letting me be teased with money yet again! But next time I will know better. It isn’t that I didn’t know this time. I knew. But that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t get frustrating as hell seeing the same old shit play itself out over and over. What if I did win serious money? Would God see to it that it was stolen? I bet he would.

Tammy totally understands how I feel and she feels the same way. Again I am grateful to her for letting me scream my frustrations in her ear and cry on her shoulder, though I didn’t literally cry. It’s just a figure of speech.

She also understands me when I say I’d be waiting with a shovel in hand if they could come back to life. Really I would. And while they were quick to remind me how they saved our asses in 2007 and beg for a break, I would be just as quick to remind them of the many times they didn’t help me when I needed it. They didn’t answer my cries to get me out of Valleyhead. They didn’t do shit about me roughing it in the slums on food stamps that couldn’t even feed a mouse for a whole month while they lived high off the hog in sunny Florida. And what about every slap, kick and punch they delivered, along with every hurtful word and the unnecessary things they made me do that they knew damn well I didn’t want to do like attending summer camp. That isn’t for everyone and it sure as hell wasn’t for me. I need freedom and privacy more than structure and routine. But camp was just like Valleyhead and jail. We all ate together, we all slept together, we all SHIT together.

So no, I’d say I don’t owe them fuckers shit.

On the flip side, the thought of them suddenly being alive and well again is rather amusing when you think of the fact that they’d have less than we had when my husband and I were forced to be little street bums for 36 hours and spend nearly a year in a motel. They’d have no home, no money, no clothes, no food, no nothing. Hell, them fuckers wouldn’t even own a pair of shoes! But knowing how fucked up God is, He’d see to it that some sucker felt sorry for them and gave them what they needed. Then I’d have to book the next flight out of here and fly to them in a murderous rage, and you know what? I would. I really would.

Later…

I’m sorry I bit you in preschool, whoever you are. I really am! LOL

During my talk with Tammy yesterday there was actually something funny she told me and that’s that I was thrown out of preschool. It doesn’t surprise me as I was one wild kid, all right. I don’t remember it, but she says I bit some little boy. Did my sexism start that young? LOL

I do remember the pea incident, though. There were these little hard green peas. I don’t know what they were for. Some art project, I guess. Well, for some stupid reason, I felt compelled to shove one up my nose. I vaguely remember one of the women there holding a Kleenex to my nose and firmly saying, “Blow.” I don’t remember the pea shooting out of my nose, but it must have at some point.

Tammy wasn’t sure if it was me or one of her own kids who shoved a Barbie shoe up their nose. Definitely wasn’t me.

Being 8 years older than me, though, I’m sure Tammy would remember a helluva lot more shit I caused than I ever could.

I wonder…if this boy suddenly spotted me walking down the street, would he finally want to bite me back?

Anyway, my weight is struggling to reset itself, but although my body is going to fight like hell to hang onto the extra weight, I’m determined to fight harder.

Later…

Did some digging into the past since Norma told me my paternal great-grandmother’s name was Sylvia Mary W. She was married to a guy named Joseph, her daughter eventually married a guy named Joseph, and my maternal grandfather’s dad was Joseph. So I guess Joseph was a popular name in my family. My maternal great-grandparents’ names were Joseph and Sarah G. So it was later shortened. My maternal grandmother’s maiden name was spelled with a K and not C, but I can’t figure out who her parents were. I can’t believe they listed one of my grandmother’s SS#, though. Aren’t criminals always looking for dead people’s socials?

So, Shirley Ida K and Jack (Herman?) G.

I’m once again wondering if our best bet would be to forget about getting the best of what we can get for 10K and just take what we can get right now with 5K. I not only don’t think we’ll have 10K by the end of the year (though Tom says it will be close) but looking back on our life together, a clear pattern emerges. It’s only the nicer places that we’ve lost. Clearly, something up there doesn’t want us to have a place we really like. Sure, we’ve struggled in dumps and we almost lost it all there, but when have we ever lost a dumpier place? Old places are what I’m used to, so as long as it’s ours, has enough space and a spot for a washer/dryer (I can do without a dishwasher), maybe we’d be safer in a place not as old and as dumpy as this place but close enough. A '70s place instead of a '60s place. But it would still have paneling and paper-thin walls and even single-paned windows. Jesse sheetrocked the kitchen and bedroom here and double-paned most of the windows. Nonetheless, I’ve been living in overall dumps since 2005. I can keep on doing that if that’s going to keep us safer. An expanded single-wide should be enough for us, and the lot would be cheaper than the lots the double-wides are on. Just trying to think of all the safety nets I can possibly think of in preparation for the next poor spell. All good things come to an end and so I don’t expect to always have this kind of money. As I’ve learned, the less you have (or the cheaper it is), the less you have to lose. Well, I don’t want an 80s or newer doublewide that we’ll only be fated to lose sooner or later. No matter how smart and prepared one may be, circumstances beyond our control still can and do arise. Like it or not, the cheap dumps are safer. That’s what I think we should aim for. So, no problem. :)

Tom came down with a cold. It’s that time of year when everyone is sick. Fortunately, though, I’m still able to do my influencing thing which has been deader than dead lately, and has been keeping it from getting that bad. He got a blood glucose monitoring kit to see if he’s diabetic and perhaps that’s why he’s rundown sometimes, but thinks he’s probably just overworked since it’s fine. Is he just now figuring that out? I could have told him this ages ago. First no one will let him work; now he’s being run ragged 6 days a week. The money is so NOT worth it if it’s going to mess up his health. If he has to give them an ultimatum and tell them to either cut his hours or expect to lose him, he will. We have more than enough money to live on while he found work elsewhere. We’d hate to give up such great medical and vacation benefits, but like I said, his health isn’t worth the risk.

He got one of those mouse-repellant things that you plug in but I don’t see how it’s going to kill or drive away mice that are UNDER the house, so we’ll see. It says it can take up to a week. Haven’t heard anything yet tonight, but sometimes they don’t start moving around and chewing up a storm till after midnight.

It’s almost time for my protein bar and then my workout. That’ll scare them silent for a while if they do come around.

It was exactly 25 years ago that I wrote my first journal entry. That was a paper entry, of course, all of which have been digitized since the mid-90s. Had I known it’d one day be published for the entire world to see I’d have laughed my ass off. It seems like so many lifetimes ago that that young, naïve, and sometimes incredibly stupid girl on disability and food stamps froze her ass off in the cold and snow as she rode the buses through the scummiest sections of Springfield, MA while her mommy and daddy lived in warm comfort and style 1400 miles below her. I don’t miss that loveless life full of pills, cigarettes and hopeless dreams one bit!

How could I forget to mention the dreams? I had 2 - possibly 3 - Florida dreams. One was too vague to remember but the others took place over a couple of days. It was like one dream for each day. In dream #1 Tom was complaining about the humidity, though I didn’t seem to mind. In dream #2 I was asking if he felt it was better today, and he said it wasn’t that bad.

The past has proven that reoccurring dreams are the most “meaningful” and the most likely to happen. While it’s awfully hard not to think all these Florida dreams aren’t just a product of my wishful thinking, what else can they be? It’s not like I’m going to win 100K or that Walter’s going to call and say, “Good news! Your parents had a few hundred grand stashed under the carpet in the trunk of their car!”

We may very well end up there when he retires, but why would I be dreaming about it now? I don’t usually have these types of dreams till it gets close to actually happening. That’s part of how I know our new home isn’t just right around the corner. The lack of dreams about it pretty much tells me so. Besides, without anything from my parents, it’s going to take the rest of the year to save up the money we want for a nicer, newer, bigger place. Or at least nicer and bigger even if it’s still a 70s model which is as old as they start at. Then it will probably take another month to find the right place, then another month for the paperwork and all that stuff, assuming that every park but the “sardine” park doesn’t reject us for not having perfect credit even though we’d be buying the place outright. So the March vibe kind of makes sense.

Later…

Got my second royalty payment, and while it’s not as much as I’d like, it’s still weird in a nice kind of way to get paid for my writing. God will see to it that I never get nearly as much as I may deserve for my time and efforts, but it’s still cool to get what piddly payments I do get.

Tammy called yesterday and at first I was annoyed that she didn’t just message me. She knows I hate phones. I’ve made this very clear to her. But she said Facebook was messed up and apparently didn’t think to email me instead.

So I called her back, and as usual, spent more time chatting than I intended or wanted. Not because she’s boring or anything like that, but because I was tired and the poor girl sounded like shit. She has pneumonia. I swear she’s always got something! She’s so like I was when I smoked not that I’ve been problem-free as healthy as I am. I still have more dental work to take care of and I still have to deal with my ear and allergies. So I’m not perfect. But there don’t seem to be many comparisons between us two. She’s up to 222 pounds and really has a lot of problems and so does Becky. I guess she’s dealing with glaucoma, had eye surgery, and is worried about losing an eye, which would totally suck.

And then she pissed me off with the news she hit me with even though I totally expected it. Funny how one can still get pissed even though they figured as much. Like I said in my last entry, I know God. I know He not only protects my perps and sees to it that things go well for them, but I knew he’d snub me one last time where my parents are concerned. My abusive parents who had all the pampering and catering in the world in their final days, and who got to exit this world peacefully in their sleep. If anything it’s my husband and I that are going to suffer slow, painful deaths all alone without anyone around to give a damn. Why? Because that’s just how twisted, unfair and fucked up God truly is and I swear I’ll strangle the next person that tries to tell me I should play nicey-nicey with Him and that He just loves the hell outa me the same as everyone else! Sorry, but I don’t kiss up to those who harm me or allow harm to come to me whether they’re of an earthly source or not. And allowing the things to be done to me that have been done to me is NOT love. I can’t make people get this; I can only state the facts. Then again, am I really obligated to explain to people why and how I know their theories about God, at least the ones that pertain to me, are pure bullshit? Those who love me and will do whatever they can to protect me walk on two legs just like I do. That’s all I can say.

Another thing I wasn’t surprised to learn was that my know-it-all mother flunked out of high school. Tammy learned this from a long-time family friend. At least I think that’s who she said it was from. She was surprised but not surprised. My parents weren’t the dumbest people alive but they weren’t nearly as smart as my sister and I either. Dad didn’t, but Mom sure loved to pretend she knew it all, all the while she would critique and criticize others. Yeah, a true hypocrite at heart, but strangely and sadly enough, it is often those with the same problems they’re picking on that do the picking. The fat picks on the fat. The poor picks on the poor. The fearful picks on those with fears. The dumb pick on the dumb.

They never could have learned one language let alone several or become published authors if they had tried. Nor could they sing as well as I came to sing. I may not be the smartest person alive either, but there was no comparison and I know my mother was even jealous of me in some ways. It was embarrassing to her to have her kids end up smarter than her. She wasn’t proud. She was jealous.

Gotta pull a load of laundry out and then shower. After that, I’ll continue on with my bitchfest but don’t be fooled. Just because I’m pissed and hate my parents and God doesn’t mean I’m unhappy. If anything I feel freer, happier and less stressed now that they’re gone.

Lost 4.6 pounds in less than two weeks on this Special K diet. Not bad. Gonna hit the treadmill in a few.

They’ve been turning us off more and more in the mornings and evenings and it’s so damn frustrating. This “service” isn’t even worth the $25 a month we pay for it, but we both agree we don’t want to pay $200 - $300 a month for our only other option while we’re still here trying to save for a house. So as much as I’m tempted to go online on and off throughout the day I’m going to try to make a point of checking in just once or twice a day to avoid the frustration my dependency on the net has brought me. I’m gonna just pick up messages, check in at my regular sites, post my entries, and submit my work for my job, then that will be it for the day. It’ll be hard, but I can do it. It will be good for me because I spend too much time online as it is when I should be doing other things. So as long as the net doesn’t cut out when I want to make my daily rounds, I can’t be so frustrated if I avoid the source of frustration altogether.

I’m going to stop posting old journals for now, but I hope to finish my designer book titles for the doc files I’ve been making on a site called Muzy. Yeah, I’m loving the photo quotes that writes text in big fat letters that you can fill in with the photo of your choice. Nothing like colorful, flowery titles, LOL.

I feel bad for Andy cuz his neighbor’s dog has been barking. Even though he’s got a helluva deal where he’s at I could never stand to live attached to others. Even when we didn’t have anyone above or below us they still managed to drive us crazy in just about every way imaginable. TVs, music, cabinets, doors, footsteps, loud chatter, kids screaming… But what happened to dogs being pets in the East? Are they not household pets anymore or something? This is one of the things (besides how liberal it is there) that I miss about the East.

Where I had to use sound machines for the dogs here that are anything but pets, now I have to use them for mice. Yeah, they’re still chewing up a storm somewhere under the floorboards between the bathroom and living room, and they get annoying as hell. I worry they’re going to damage something vital within the electrical or plumbing and while we won’t have to pay for it since we’re still renters, I worry we’ll need Jesse down for that or some other emergency before we leave and he’ll discover the bathroom leaks we’ve been dealing with ourselves so as not to have to deal with him. We put a cookie sheet under the leaky sink pipe and Tom removed the handles of the leaky shower faucet (fortunately it was the cold one) and put a wrench on it to make it easier to turn on and off.

Left a message for the attorney but never heard back from him. That’s not good. Makes me think I really won’t get shit after all. That’s so God, too. It’s so God to add one more insult to injury by making sure my abusers don’t leave me shit. And let me guess…they’re living it up and having a grand old time in the afterlife too, right God? Well, we can’t know for sure what, if anything, happens in the afterlife, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if they were going first class.

People say God works in mysterious ways. Try twisted, sick and unfair ways. Really, there’s nothing “mysterious” about why some people live in beautiful homes that do next to nothing while my husband works his ass off just to come home to this.

In reading back in my mid-90s journal (I am at least proofreading them for when I finally do publish them) I read about Minnie, someone who also knew the late Bob P, a friend who died in prison around 2005 or so. We exchanged a few calls and letters back then. I looked her up on Facebook and sent her a message. She replied and requested to be added.

Someone in San Francisco spent a half-hour on my blog tonight. Michelle?

They turned us off earlier than usual tonight, so I’ll have to post this later on as I’m getting ready to eat, work out, and shower. Right now I’m running a few loads of laundry through.

The OT wages on and Tom will have to work his eighth Saturday in a row this Saturday. Before my appointment on the 14th is when he’ll run the cans into the recycling center, which by then may not make it in just one carload. We could very well have $40 or $50 in cans out there! We’d give them to Andy if we could.

It’s just a rumor, Tom says, but he heard from a couple of people at work that they’re going to be giving out bonuses. Well, if anyone deserves a huge bonus it’s Tom!

I’m going to call the attorney soon to see if I can get a sense of what’s up. As in how much longer things will take and how much, if anything, I can expect to get.

Looking forward to the weather returning to the 70s. I like how the cooler and open windows allow for fresh air but since I’m on nights now I’ll have to sleep with my mask on. I hate sleeping in light, but I’ll have no choice but to crack the bedroom window and leave the bedroom door open. How I miss having a normal setup! Someday. Someday we will get out of the Jes pest’s bummy old trailer and into a real house of our own. Well, it won’t have been built on-site, but it’ll be built more like a real house because it will be newer. A mobile home or manufactured home as opposed to a trailer. Many people think bigger is better and that’s what I used to think too, but 1000-1500 square feet is really all we need.

I didn’t hear any mice the night before last, but then I heard them last night. It can take up to two weeks for the poison to kill the whole group. Again, I hate to resort to killing the cute little things, but the damage they can cause leaves us no choice.

Got a message from Christiane. She said she hasn’t had time to read much of my story and put a frowning face next to this sentence. Really? Or is she just not interested? Well, I guess it doesn’t matter either way as once again writer’s block is setting in.

I wonder how many blog visitors I get that I can’t see? Visitors that deliberately hide from my tracker.

Tammy posted some more baby pics and I realize I still have mixed emotions where her kids are concerned. Well, I have mixed emotions about anyone in the family except for my cousins. I was browsing through some of Tammy’s comments on Sarah and Becky’s stuff and I guess Becky has eye surgery coming up. She and Sarah thanked their aunt Etta. Thought they “never had an aunt?” Yeah, that crack Sarah made really pissed me off. I tell myself she was just a brainwashed kid who didn’t know shit, but I remember that crack when I think of her, and I’m still hesitant to reach out to any of the kids and getting sucked up in another family feud of false accusations and the he said, she said game. Maybe Lisa’s changed, but I don’t need her coming out of the blue at me again with some lame bullshit accusation. Oh, I’d dump them if they started any shit. I have no problem with that at all even if it meant getting harassed and hounded online to hell and back. I’m just not so sure I want to burn a bridge we may need to one day cross. We have been poor so many times in life. Why couldn’t we be again? Why couldn’t God line things up to fall against us in all kinds of ways no matter how smart we are with money or how much we save?

I’d love to fuck with Bill, but the pussy’s hiding or it has no account. Besides, if I did that it would only get the DQ and brood on my ass about it.

Andy won a case involving a car accident he was in 3 years ago. He gets points off his insurance and a reimbursement check. Yay for him! I hope the check is big and arrives swiftly.

Can’t help but feel a pinch of regret for myself as well as happy for him, for I know that had it been me, God would have protected the guilty party and I’d have gotten nothing. Just a big fat nothing.

I also have mixed emotions where Mary is concerned. For years my husband looked for a job and didn’t get one till the economy nearly killed us. But she gets two jobs right off the bat? This woman who allowed herself to be abused and her child to be killed? We live like bums in a tiny old dump, but as soon as she’s released she gets to live in a big beautiful house. How fair is that?

Later…

Got sick of Lori and blocked her for the final time. Besides, I couldn’t have public posts if I wanted them and still be able to block her from seeing them. I’m just sick of all the messages, comments and likes, most of which are needless and silly anyway. I don’t need messages from her urging me to vote. If I want to vote I’ll vote. She’ll think it’s a glitch, though, and this way her feelings won’t be hurt. I didn’t want to come out and tell her, “Look, you’re not a bad person. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want to be friends with you.”

I never liked being overly sociable online with the same person anyway. I’m not only too busy for that but unless the person is interesting or hot as hell, I get bored with that sort of thing. I don’t think I’m basing my decision on Lori on her looks, though she was an ugly duckling. No doubt about that.

Really wish Facebook would allow a way for us to hide people’s likes and comments while still going public.

Decided to compromise with myself on whether or not to go public on Facebook or keep it friends of friends. I had kept going back and forth on the idea of which to go with, unable to make up my mind. I’d love a public account; it’s just that I’d hate to expose certain people who are more private that may still want to leave comments. So I decided to start with public posts, but then whenever I get comments or likes from certain people, I’ll go in and reset those posts to friends of friends.

I’m pissed at myself for going back up nearly a pound. Yesterday I was more sluggish and hungry for some reason, so I ate a little more. I also had my main meal too early in my day.

Tom is sick of all the OT. He says there’s no doubt it will continue for the rest of the week, but he would really love it if it stopped and he could have an entire weekend off. I agree, even if it would slow the savings down dramatically and I still may not get anything from my parents which could mean we couldn’t move for a long, long time. Oh well. We are where we’re meant to be. Been here so long that while there may be things to complain about, as with any place, this is what I’m used to. I don’t know that I could ever have adapted to having people an arm’s reach away like they are in those parks, so I’m ok with staying here. There are so many places that would be much, much worse to be stuck in. I know we could be moved into a similar old single-wide in the “sardine” park within a month, no questions asked, and it could be all ours, but if we’re going to settle, why not settle for staying here?

This weekend I’m going to unpack the bins I packed and just assume we’ve got another year or two to go before we get out of here and into a place decent enough. Tom doesn’t think the OT will stop after this week, though, just because he wants it to. LOL, I always did say that the more we want something the less likely we are to get it. I don’t see us moving anytime soon either. In fact, I don’t think we’re even remotely close. But he must be meant to be making all this money for a reason even if it means having no life. He hasn’t had a Saturday off in nearly two months, he’s tired, and things are getting neglected around here that I can’t do on my own.

I’m using Nane’s leaves for my blog background. She likes to take nature pics and one of the shots in her newest album was of a maple tree. I told her it would make a great blog background, but not to worry, I wouldn’t steal it. She said it was ok, though.

Still not sure what to do about Lori. She’s such a pest at times, but I also know that right or wrong, I wouldn’t mind nearly as much if she were a hottie. I wish she’d get sick of me or something, LOL. I can block her from viewing my posts to keep her from commenting and butting into all my discussions, but I’m not sure I can stop her from seeing other people’s posts. Even if I could, she still posts to my wall and messages me. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I’m tempted to block her for good.

I wish it would rain more often during the daytime instead of mostly at night like it usually does. That would keep the Jes pest indoors more often. But just because the ground may be wet doesn’t mean he can’t be out working on whatever vehicle, woodworking or another project he’s building. I cringe every time I hear something like, “I want to plow a little road in back down to the well,” though it’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one. I’m sure he’ll want to cut down dead trees for firewood for his dad, though the bulldozing will have to wait till the ground dries out. We’re on for rain for tomorrow, and then it’s back to the sunny 70s.

Tom didn’t have any OT today. He liked that for obvious reasons but I did say I feared them cutting the OT the closer we got to our goal. He said it’s just one day and he’s sure there’ll be a huge order waiting to be filled tomorrow. He said the only reason he got to leave early (though not everyone did) was that the order was delayed. Meanwhile, I’m trying to enjoy how well things are going and not worry about the 10 million things that could go wrong to trap us here.

I’m now just two-tenths shy of a 3-pound loss since beginning the Special K diet 9 days ago. I just hope it keeps on working! It’s beyond fabulous with the way it curbs hunger better than any other diet. Sometimes I get hungry but not all the time and not to the point where I feel I have to eat a whole cow to stop it. The end of my day used to be the hardest, yet I didn’t eat for the last 4 hours of my day yesterday and wasn’t one bit hungry.

Nane also couldn’t pull up Irene’s account. I thought it might be a glitch at first since that happens on and off with my Chile friend. I knew she hadn’t blocked me since we’d gotten along just fine, then Nane confirmed that she deactivated. I’m guessing it had to do with her depression, the poor girl.

Nane really holds the record for stepping into my dreams. In the last dream, which was very short, I guess I was in Germany. She was pissed cuz she had to take a day off from work to bring me to the doctor. Then she got even more pissed when some Arschloch cut in front of us and nearly got us into an accident. By the time we got to the doctor’s office and I realized I’d forgotten my purse with my medical info she was so furious I was almost afraid to leave with her, LOL.

Someone asked on Ask if I ever worry my online stalkers will get to me in real life. Wow, I’d really like to know who asked that. But no. I don’t see how they could find my exact whereabouts and jump out at me in the flesh, but as I said in my answer, let’s hope for their sake they’re armed or a lot tougher than me if they do.

The net’s down now and the fact that it goes out every weekday evening around the same time only makes me suspect even more that it’s a person fucking around with us and not just a combination of old wires and incompetent service. Probably just some kid with nothing better to do that thinks it’s pretty fucking funny. What else can one do in such a tiny town but waste time pulling pranks, right? Anyway, I’ll post this when I can.

The thought of being here till the spring with our change of plans makes me want to scream, but not just because of the lack of space and shitty connection. Yeah, you probably guessed it - the Jes pest is already out and about banging, hammering and doing God knows what else. If he were just a driveway away I’d kill both him and his damn mutts if I didn’t go batshit crazy first. I was really hoping to be out of here before the cooler weather projects started back up again, but we refuse to settle and take just any old place simply because we can. We can afford many places that are adequate and comfortable, but adequate and comfortable aren’t good enough for me anymore, this person who has been made to live in dumps as if she and her husband were nothing but a couple of lazy-ass dope heads. I don’t have to love it so much that it takes my breath away, but I better really, REALLY like the hell out of it. If it doesn’t call to me, really grab me by the heart and stir my excitement, I don’t want it.

For now, I expect to hear our latest mouse that’s been living in the space between the heater and tub in about 10 minutes. Whoever came up with the saying about being quiet as a mouse didn’t know shit. They are NOT quiet when they’re chewing on shit. We put bait out but I don’t know if it will find it.

We got our first real rain in many months starting at midnight last night. It has rained on and off since then and there was even some thunder and lightning. I’m glad the thunder held off till after I got up. I’m also glad to see we’ll be back in the 70s this weekend. I like the rain as long as it isn’t day after day after day. It’s the cold I could do without.

I rejoined Tumblr but am not sure if I want to share this account with anyone I know because I might want to use it for sharing things I wouldn’t normally share in my other blogs. As a blogging fanatic, I love the variety that the different sites have to offer. I kind of miss Blogger but I refuse to sign up for anything powered by Google, thanks to their shitty security and “privacy” policies. I probably won’t post private stuff on my Tumblr blog, though, as Googlable or not, there’s always a chance that the wrong eyes may spot it. I either make private or keep offline anything I don’t want just anyone seeing. But Tumblr is one of those all-or-nothing blogs that doesn’t let you set different security levels per post. I even made a story blog there, but I’m not sure if I’ll keep that going or not.

I stupidly brushed my teeth too roughly and caused my gums to start bleeding again so I rinsed with salt and baking soda. I think the reason the last two pulls were rougher on me is that they had to dig as well as pull. With my wisdom teeth and the impacted baby tooth, they could just pull.

Tom said jury duty was cool and it was nice to get paid for a whole day’s work even though he wasn’t there too many hours. It had to do with some stupid drunk driving case. Just some stupid, clean-cut drunk driving case that didn’t involve anyone getting hurt or anything like that. Again, it never ceases to amaze me the time, money and legwork the pigs and courts spend on such things that should be resolved as simply as writing out a ticket. But apparently, you can fight a DUI charge same as you can a speeding ticket. He didn’t get called for the case, though.

“Why you gotta be so mean?” Kim asked me on Ask in regard to my last entry. I just deleted it. I decided to compromise with myself and instead of being so black or white, I’d allow for anonymous comments and not deprive myself of the fun that goes with that and just delete anything that’s either obviously from her or Molly, or that might be from them.

I first told myself I wouldn’t post it unless I ever heard from her again, but then I told myself, “You know you will. Just post the damn thing. It’s your journal anyway.”

This is the first Sunday I can think of where Andy hasn’t been on Ask. He usually at least checks in before he leaves if he’s got plans for the day. It’s a little weird but not too worrisome. I’m sure he either ended up busy or just not in the mood for Ask. We all have our days. I’m not even blogging today. I don’t think I will be anyway, but that isn’t just because there isn’t much to say but because Opera’s fucked up again.

The only dream I remember having last night was one where this homeless woman approached me trying to tell me God just loved the hell outa her even though she’d had all kinds of hardships. Then she tried to tell me God’s blessed me with my language abilities and hogwash like that.

I said, “Lady, if God loved you that much you wouldn’t be in one mess after another, and God didn’t bless me with my language abilities either. I learned what I learned through years of hard work and study. Give credit where credit is due and quit kidding yourself about God and considering your enemies to be your friends. After all, you wouldn’t consider a person a friend who let bad things happen to you, would you?”

When I woke up I realized that part of the reason why I could never forgive God isn’t just the magnitude and the number of hardships and curses He’s tossed my way, but because forgiving Him would be too much like a woman forgiving an abusive man. It’s just all wrong to me. Simply backward. But the one thing I can do is appreciate the good times. Things are wonderful now. All we need is a decent place of our own, then they couldn’t get much better than that so long as there were no unexpected problems there that we couldn’t anticipate beforehand.

Other than life’s usual annoyances that everyone has to deal with, it’s just a waiting game from here on out. Until then I expect the upcoming change of weather to bring about more barking, bulldozing and other projects. I really hoped to be gone by now but things always take longer than you expect. Always. We’re no exception to that rule.

Today may be the last day that we’ll be in the 70s this year. Tomorrow will be cloudy and 60s, then 50s and rainy.

I was disappointed but not surprised to wake up and find I’d gone up a pound. This is right around the time (a week) when my body weight tries to reset itself and fights to hang onto the extra weight. Plus, as I shift onto nights I don’t lose as much weight in my sleep. I’ll stick to the diet another week but if I either gain back what I’ve lost or don’t lose anymore then I’ll have to go to a doctor one of these days and see if I can find out why they only work for a week for me. I think I can lose a little more, though. At least I hope I can. If not, then I would think something must be wrong somewhere.

Later…

Tom’s got jury duty on Monday, but he’ll be paid for his time, so that’s cool. Instead of bustling about a sweaty warehouse he can just kick back in our tiny town’s no doubt corrupt little courthouse.

I was just sitting here thinking of Kim and reflecting back on our “friendship.” Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I see just how fucked she was till the very end of our two-year friendship? I’m usually pretty good with this sort of thing, too. I could tell right away that she was a bit slow and that she wasn’t very bright. But being flaky and sometimes annoying while writing silly, off-the-wall stories doesn’t necessarily constitute crazy. Yet it was there all along. The classic signs of MPD.

The annoyances first began with odd and excessive behavior. First it was the overtweeting back when I used to have a Twitter account. I couldn’t figure out why it had to take her 16 tweets to get a point across that could be done in 2 or 3. Yet despite being given up to 150 characters per tweet, she’d usually use just half or less of the allotted characters. But we all have our annoying quirks and so I just dealt with it, though I did complain a few times hoping she would take the hint before she deactivated that account. She followed me from her newest account, but I didn’t follow back. I didn’t want to have to scroll and scroll to get to the tweets that actually interested me.

Then came the constant, and I mean constant, a never-ending slew of self-portraits she’d take of herself and post on Facebook. They were always the same old face shots, never any body shots. She’d post them by the hundreds and I eventually kicked her stuff off my stream because, well, I just got sick of looking at her. I sometimes wondered if she did it to try to convince others – or perhaps herself – that she was attractive. Not to sound rude or mean but Kim really wasn’t anything to look at. The self-proclaimed blue-eyed blond who was clearly a gray-eyed and extremely heavy woman with muddy brown hair, had such bloated features that it was hard to tell what she really looked like. Colors were easy enough to see, but was she pretty? Was she plain? Was she ugly? Even her nose seemed enormous, and again, I don’t mean to sound cruel, harsh or judgmental. No one’s perfect, including me. But she did one time come crying to me about her weight after admitting that all she basically did was stuff herself and sit at her computer all day. Therefore, it was kind of hard to feel sorry for her. No one can change our weight but us, so if you’re going to complain, at least do something about it along the way while you’re at it. Yet day after day she would continue to complain, eat, and post her incredibly swollen face, and I still didn’t see the craziness within. I simply thought she was a bit on the weird side and simply didn’t know how to begin to help herself. She didn’t seem to have much of a support system either.

Next came the repetitiveness. She would ask me the same damn questions over and over, and her mile-long blog entries would say the same damn things again and again, just in different ways.

Then the lies began. First she wouldn’t admit that she wasn’t really reading my stories when I would ask for her opinion, even though I told her it was perfectly ok to admit it if suspense wasn’t her cup of tea and she wasn’t interested. After all, I wasn’t interested in her fantasy stories, most of which contained celebrities for most of its characters, along with a few of her former friends, myself included.

Then it was on to one contradiction after another, but again I dismissed it on pure silliness and her being an airhead. Finally, a red flag went up. The Kim who could speak six languages on Facebook could now only speak one another site. The vows to not base characters in her silly stories after Molly was quickly forgotten and the Kimantics were beginning to really add up.

Next up were all the celebrity impersonation gigs. At first she admitted they were “fan” sites, but then she became these people. Literally. It was a bit chilling to watch this middle-aged woman with no life, who never had a real job or lover, and who was still living at home, literally become these various celebrities. She morphed into these beings and spoke to the fans she fooled and deceived not like it was some big old fucking joke she was getting a kick out of but as if she were really these people. She merged right into their minds, their personalities, their likes, their careers, and their entire lives. The transition was as smooth as glass. Only she did it in a childishly silly way with tons of typos and grammatical errors that gave her away to those who knew her.

When confronted, she was quick to delete, deny and delude. No matter how obvious it was to those who knew her, she reacted as guilty as guilty gets. After being confronted, she would deactivate her accounts only to create new ones doing the same thing. And once again she’d be called out and she would delete, deny and delude. “It was really so and so that did it, not me!” she’d insist. But she was beyond a bad liar. One didn’t need to know her that well to know she was lying.

It wasn’t until someone on Ask started hitting me with all kinds of nasty “questions” that the sad reality of this person I had considered a friend, despite her imperfections, and that I thought considered me a friend as well, hit me full force. The magnitude of her insanity shone through and hit me like a semi out of control. With all the things I was learning about Kim I was beginning to suspect more and more that the insults flung at me on Ask that I had assumed were from Molly and her mother (though I’m sure some were) were really from Kim. And so I asked her a question right after I got one of the usual “I smell a loser called Lady Rainbow” questions written much in her style of writing, and sure enough, she was on at the time and answered back.

Had I known what would happen next I never would’ve confronted her. I’d have simply walked away quietly. Instead, I confronted her with, “Ok, I know it’s you, Kim. Ha Ha, very funny, but the joke’s over now, ok?”

I would have been prepared to let it go at that and move on so long as she didn’t do it again, but what she did do was react with that classic guilty reaction. Only this time she went beyond delete, deny and delude. She got nasty on me. And now I had another Molly on my tail only this one was of a worse kind because she was too crazy to even know who the hell she was. This one wasn’t just playing around. This was a sicko. A genuine loon. Molly may be crazy in her own kind of way and say some mean things at times, but she was always just Molly and she was never nearly as big of a liar either. Trying to reason with someone who had anger issues and was a little off-balance was one thing. Yes, Molly could be a pest and yes she was very stalkerish in many ways by not going away when I asked her to until she took measures to better herself and her life, but looking back on it now I can just imagine how often Kim must have been instigating Molly and harassing her just as much if not more than Molly ever harassed her. Once Kim’s true colors emerged and all this anger came out I didn’t even know was there, I know she couldn’t possibly have been totally innocent where Molly was concerned. I have no desire to ever again be friends with either one of them, but Molly had to have taken some serious harassment from Kim. No doubt about that!

I always wondered, and still do, just how much awareness Kim has. I’ve read up on MPD and she really does seem to fit the profile. They are said to lose awareness for hours at a time while other “personalities” or “alters” take over. I remember once she said something about a place where one of her alters lived and I thought she was joking, but this statement tells me she must have some awareness of her behavior, at least some of the time. They are said to do things the “host” which is basically their main self, as funny as they may sound, doesn’t remember later on. Maybe one of Kim’s alters harassed me and maybe it was the “real” Kim I confronted and she reacted with so much hate and anger and all the relentless taunts and insults because she truly believed she was innocent and that I dumped her for nothing. I don’t think so, though. I think for some reason she is just a very hateful person who hated me all along. It does take a lot of hate to do what she did, not that she still may not have MPD and not that she isn’t a very sick person.

But still, why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I see it coming, this craziness within?

Starting to wonder if maybe I have two mystery fans who have contacted me on Ask. The more I think about the last two questions and compare them to older ones that I always assumed were from Kim, the more I see the difference in the writing. In fact, the spelling and grammar are radically different. My mind started to revert back to Kim on the older ones, but then a VH sister came to mind. I asked her about it.

I knew they both couldn’t have come from Kim because if you’re dumb, then all of you are dumb. I know that sounds funny as hell but when you have MPD, or at least seem to have it, your alters may act differently, but wouldn’t they all write the same? If her “main” self has shitty spelling and grammar, why would her other selves write better? Anyway, I’ll write more about her tomorrow. For now, she’s welcome to keep the evidence coming.

As far as my more intelligent fan that says they’re overseas, I love a good mystery, but I also like to solve them, too. I’ll figure out who they are sooner or later. I’m now down to 9 possibilities for the more recent questions. I think I know who it is and if I’m right it’s a he.

Kathy’s been giving me Kim’s “fan” site links on FB to block. Even though I’ve gone private and she’ll keep creating new accounts, I knew she had to be looking in on me from somewhere on FB. So I block whatever I can.

Kathy set up a bogus Ask account of her own that the trolls won’t catch on to.

Poor Nane’s been sick again. I hope she gets better soon and will be online more than she has been.

Later…

Rasvi, a guy in India, admitted to being my overseas FB friend I rarely talk to. Maria picked up my message asking if she made any requests for me to keep that diary open, but didn’t reply. So unless something came up and she was in a hurry, I’d say I’ve figured out my two mystery fans.

Got a quick visit from Lee, MA. That’s where the As are.

Later…

It’s early evening now, which means the net’s down. Don’t know if it’ll be for just a half-hour or if it’ll be for the whole night, so I’ll just focus on writing and post what I can when I can.

Turns out that the bridge I need is only going to cost about $450 and not a grand. At the dentist’s office, we were told our plan covered 50% of it yet we read online they covered 80%. So they said they’d check into it and left a message yesterday saying, yup, 80% will be covered. Tom said we’d still have to pay a grand anyway because I still need fillings done and we’ll have exceeded our benefits for this year. They go fast when you need a lot of work done that has been neglected for so many years, but as I told him, I’m in no real pain anymore now that the worst teeth have been filled and pulled, so the fillings aren’t urgent. They can wait till the next rollover, which isn’t too far from now. Next month, I think it is. The bottom cavity they filled was painful, though, and the broken tooth definitely had to go because that was potentially dangerous.

Today has been amazingly pain and allergy-free and I’m now down 2.6 pounds – yay! But I worry it’s going to stop anytime now. If it doesn’t, it’s definitely going to slow down the closer I get to my ideal weight. Well, at least what my body considers ideal for a short 46-year-old. Due to getting my period, which causes my iron level to drop, I got lightheaded and sluggish, so I had to eat more and cut a few minutes off my workout.

Next week we’re expecting our first real rain in many months and highs only in the mid to upper 50s. :( This means I’ll have to listen to that fucking bulldozer for 4 hours or so. As much as I hate the cold, I’m hoping that having the windows shut and the cooler off will back off my allergies more than just a few days at a time.

I also had a couple of dreams Nane was in, one of which is hopefully a good sign, the other hilarious as hell. It was long and detailed, too. Instead of paying a cab to drive me to her place (guess there was no ocean between the US and Germany in the dream), she sent a car that ran on autopilot like an airplane. It was programmed to take me to her apartment building. Inside the car was a cell phone with a rather mysterious caller. Once the car pulled up sort of toward the side of her place and I was admiring the various trees, flowers and other plants, the cell rang and I thought it was Nane.

I heard a muffled female voice and said, “Nane?”

More muffled sounds.

“Nane?” I asked again.

Then someone clearly said, “No, not Nane. Just a close friend of hers.”

“A close friend?” I asked. “That’s odd.”

The caller asked why and I said, “Because your accent sounds as American as mine. How many Americans can she possibly be close to?”

“She loves someone else, Jodi.”

So she knew my name. “That’s ok. I love someone else, too.”

“But she might still kind of be into you. She says you make her laugh and are there for her.”

“Well, we must be somewhat into each other to be drawn to each other despite being so damn different, and after all the chats we’ve shared.”

“What about?”

“None of your business. Where’s Nane?”

“Ich weiß nicht wo sie ist.“

“Well, find out. It’s getting cold here.”

She was surprised I knew what she’d said in German. “Crushes,” I said. “They tend to make you smarter than you intended to get.”

The dream ended then. I never did see Nane, LOL.

In another dream, we were waiting for the go-ahead to move into a particular place. At least I think it was a house we’d picked out and not just the park we were waiting on. I’m not sure if I was imagining my reaction and how thrilled I’d be if Tom said we were in after he talked to them, or if he actually did say we were in and I was reacting for real, but Nane was there too, and I’m hoping this is a good sign.

Tammy said she doesn’t know anything about Mom breaking one of our arms when we were 5 by roughly pulling something out of one of our hands and then later telling Joyce about it. That’s Judy’s sister. I have no such memory of her doing that or telling anyone about it, but Tammy sure is pissed at Judy still, calling her a bitch and a liar who needs to shut her mouth or she’ll shut it for her. LOL, typical drama queen. She’s also still a hypochondriac. I’m sure some of it is real, but she always seems to be sick. Much more so than I was when I used to smoke. She’s got a chest infection and is awaiting more test results.

As I told Andy, the thing that gives me peace of mind is knowing I can dump her if she stirs up any real shit for me again and that she can’t go running to Mom and Dad with it who would only get on my ass about it as well. The DQ loves to get others involved and drag people through all kinds of feuds right along with her.

She’s a bridge I’m hesitant to burn right now, not because of what she can send me or what Walter might send me if my folks cough up any dough from the sale of their shit, but what if we are poor again? It’s happened before, so who says it can’t happen again as determined as we are to do all we can to prevent it? God loves to let circumstances beyond our control line up just right (which is really all wrong for us) so that He can get a kick out of making bums out of us and watch us struggle. Just because we’re doing well right now doesn’t mean He suddenly likes us. Personally, I don’t know why He’s allowing things to go well for us right now, but no one who’s been as cursed/hated as I have from my childhood to my ear, from my sleep curse to being sexually cursed, from my once being denied the right to choose to my driving phobia and lack of job, is suddenly liked.

Just for the record, though, my dad was NOT exempt from any of the family violence. Oh no, not at all. He gave us kids a good one every now and then and I even remember one time when he slapped my mother. I was still kind of little and it was a pretty memorable experience for me. In a bad way, of course. My mother later excused his behavior on his newly discovered heart problems and the fact that he was having to go through heart surgery and all that shit, and well, just your typical piss-poor excuse too many people make for abusers. But like I said, I was just a little kid at the time so I bought it hook, line and sinker and accepted the lame excuse as well as I would these days when I hear about cases of self-defense.

I remember being woken up by the sounds of scuffling and crying when he was beating up one night on one of my siblings, though I don’t know which one. He just loved to use that belt of his for reasons that went beyond holding his pants up. Believe it or not my mother came into my room and comforted me because I was crying, terrified out of my mind. Other than that she did absolutely nothing to pull her husband off of whomever he was attacking, nor did she call the cops. Back in those days, though, the cops would’ve been useless but at least there’d be a record of it.

I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. Hell, I don’t even feel sorry for myself. Maybe I should but instead, I just feel pissed. I have come to hate my parents like never before for the shit they’ve pulled, as well as God for letting it happen. He didn’t have to let me be abused. He could have protected me. Instead, He chose not to and proved throughout my life that I am NOTHING in His eyes. Just a worthless sack of cells, blood and bones for anyone to do whatever the fuck they may feel like doing, good or bad. But unlike Him, I care about myself and so do my husband and friends. Those that really give a damn about me are those I can actually see and hear and they walk on two legs just like me. As for my parents, yeah, they might’ve saved our asses back in ’07, but if they could suddenly rise from the dead I’d be waiting right there with a shovel.

People have been asking me about my second stalker. It’s Kim. At first I was against writing about her so as not to give her the attention she just might crave and so that’s why I removed the entries about her being under investigation. Yet I’m not doing anything wrong, it’s my blog, and so I don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to discuss her shit as long as I’m not posting sensitive info.

Someone on Ask must have a very guilty conscience since they yelled at me to “STOP TALKING ABOUT ME YOU LIAR!” Yet I never mentioned any names. I know damn well it’s Kim and I really wish she would grow the hell up, get a life and move on. Really, I’m embarrassed for one who can hate themselves so much that they feel they deserve to pay attention to nothing but people who hate them.

Maybe writing about her pisses her off instead of amuses her, but she should’ve thought of that before she pestered me on Ask if that’s the case. What part of “fuck off” does she not understand? What part of “our friendship is over,” does she just not get? There’s no point in hanging on to past friends, for to do so means you’ll never move on. Then again, what has she to move on to? Probably nothing or pretty damn close to it. Nonetheless, I’m not going to worry anymore about whether or not writing about her will set her off or if not writing about her will make her more determined to try to get my attention. I’m going to write about her because I feel like writing about her. Period. However, it makes her feel is of no concern to me.

I’ll discuss it more later. Right now I have to get ready to work out and wonder how many more stalkers I’ll accumulate in my lifetime.