Time to finish up about yesterday as I await the results of yesterday’s eye tests. Tom has the phone the doctor will call him on at work, so Tom will email me once he hears from him. I did have eye dreams last night, but can’t remember them. That must be a good thing since we usually remember our bad dreams.

I also had more dreams discussing moving. Hope this means we’re getting close, but I don’t think so. We did check out a couple of parks here in town, including the one with that newer house. We don’t want it. It’s not in as good of a location within the park as we first thought. It’s right by the main entrance, and the greenbelt between it and next door does belong to next door. They have a garden and a little hangout there with tables and chairs. I don’t want this just a few feet from our windows. We can do better than this. We could tell it was theirs cuz there’s a hose on it that goes to their place. The park itself was just okay, but the other park was a little better than just okay. The roads were wider and the houses weren’t all right on the streets. A few were quite close but there was more gravel than grass there which would be better cuz then you hear fewer mowers. That was the only thing I didn’t like about our favorite park; very grassy. Lots of cars there too, though we didn’t see any driveways with 3 cars in either of the two parks we saw. Either way, my dreams, if they can still be trusted, say we’re not staying in Auburn.

There was an accident sort of in front of us after we checked out the parks. “This’ll be ugly,” Tom said, a split second before I heard a slight pop, then turned to see some idiot had taken an illegal left turn and bumped fenders with another guy. The traffic kept moving despite the bent fenders, broken headlights, and steam emitting from one of the car’s hoods since they were able to pull to the side.

We came home after test 2 of 3 because we knew it wouldn’t take us 5 hours to check out the parks. Just in time for the Jes pest buzzing around on the ATV doing whatever the current project is that it’s doing. I’m surprised I only heard him once today when he revved his truck, but I’ve had music playing most of the day. I did hear a few minutes of barking, but that’s been it so far.

After we left the parks we had a half-hour to kill, so we went to a drug store where we both got some candy and I got One Pearl Fits All Whisper lipstick by Maybelline. I’d seen it advertised online and thought it may be cool to try. It should be renamed as Invisible since I can barely see it. Shoulda got Mad for Magenta.

Meanwhile, Nancy’s never going to get back online, Molly’s always 161 pounds no matter how much weight she claims to have lost, and Dorene hasn’t harassed me. Could take a week or two before she does, if she’s going to do so.

Later…

Some people really do get it all in life. Anything they want, just snap their fingers, pray to God, wish upon a star, and voila! It’s theirs. Some people get everything, some people get some things, and some people don’t get shit, and I really, really wonder why. Tom thinks it’s totally random, but I’m not so sure about that. Why do I feel like I’m one of the ones being singled out and picked on so much of the time if that were true?

The person I’m referring to is Kathy. The only thing that’s different in this case is that she’s a good person getting good things, things she deserves. It’s a refreshing break after seeing so many assholes succeed and so many good people fail. I don’t know every single thing about her, but she truly does seem to have it all – a great husband who she loves the hell out of and who seems to love her just as much, a decent home, even if she may rent it, a decent job, and now she’s having the baby she’s been dying for for months. She was starting to fear that she’d never be able to have kids. Well, not only do our fears have a way of manifesting themselves at times, but she’s just the type of person God would deny a child to. How many crackheads or abusers do you know that claim they can’t have kids? Yet she just learned she’s pregnant and is saying how “awesome” God is.

If He’s so “awesome,” then what about all those women who also prayed just to be ignored and denied a child? I was once one of them. Remember? I’m happy as hell for her and I believe both she and her husband will make great parents, but there’s a bit of sadness that’s come over me, remembering how I so hopelessly prayed to a God who didn’t give a shit what I wanted. I’m glad things turned out the way they did but I still feel a touch of anger when I remember the emotional baggage I carried for what seemed like way too many years. Oh, the things God has denied me! What are the odds of being born with the kind of birth defect I have AND this type of rare sleep disorder AND denied true lust AND a husband who can’t perform AND a light sleeper unable to sleep with her husband AND given a driving phobia AND denied a child AND later the right to even have sex in the first place unless I did it with someone that I love but don’t lust and that loves but doesn’t lust me? Come on, if that’s not being singled out and shit on, what is? And this is excluding the abusive family and letting a pack of hating blacks and their corrupt pig pal legally beat me down for years. I won’t even get into the poverty and noise curse issues. Oh! And didn’t I once want to be a singer and have that denied me as well? Let’s not forget that one, too.

Well, let’s just hope for Kathy’s sake that God doesn’t cause her to miscarry one kid after another cuz she’s also the classic candidate for that, too. If she manages to have this kid, then wow. She has got to be the luckiest and most loved person on God’s list. I can’t think of anything else this girl wants that she can’t have. Her only flaw that I can see is that she’s obese. Well, getting pregnant isn’t going to help that, but afterward, she’s still young enough that she should be able to get the weight off without practically starving, and keep it off for a decade or so before it gets to be a problem again that’s much harder to control. I’m never going to get my own weight off, that’s for sure, because I simply can’t live on 800 calories a day. I don’t even bother counting calories anymore. Why try to fight the inevitable?

Meanwhile, I’ll never be spoiled by God like Kathy has, nor do I ever expect or want to be. I just wish He’d let us find the ideal home where we could both live in peace. That’s all I want on top of basic health, happiness and security.

I think I’ll do an entry before I get even more tired. I’m a little tired because I didn’t sleep 8 hours last night and kept waking up along the way. I’m just glad I didn’t have any nightmares. I hate it when I know I had tons of dreams and when I make a mental note to remember one I awoke from just to not be able to remember a damn thing when I get up. Something about hotels, apartments, and an old house. Better than dreams about going blind.

Ended up taking an unexpected Midol nap yesterday so that’s part of why I was up past midnight. I took the Midol for period cramps (what is it with this heavy bleeding lately?) and it made me as drowsy as Benadryl does. I said to myself, I’ll just go lie down for a few minutes. I felt so heavy once I hit the bed and then a few minutes became a few hours.

I’ve had 2 of my 3 rounds of eye pressure checks today. One more air blast to go, then hopefully I won’t have to return for several months! I may not know what the readings are today, though, cuz the doctor is out sick. Some other doctor is covering for him, but the secretary said she can’t stay the whole day. So I guess he’ll have to call tomorrow. Got a feeling the pressure isn’t down, but hopefully I’ll be wrong, and hopefully I’ll be that 4 out of every 5 people that have OH just because. They understand that 1 in 5 with OH develop glaucoma, but they don’t yet understand why some of us have OH for seemingly no reason at all. I just hope I’m one of the no reasons.

Grabbed a pink chain for my bifocals at the eye doctor so I can take my glasses off in the car but not have to put them in my purse and fish around for them later.

We grabbed a few hundred in cash, then it was off to shop after my first blast of air at 8:30. First, we went to Target. While he searched for a belt with no metal, so he doesn’t have to keep taking his belt off to go through the metal detectors at work, I went in search of a favorite brand of panties. I figured that since I decided my favorite bra is the C9 Champion sports bra, now I should favorite the lower part of me as well. I settled on a couple of pairs of Gilligan O’Malley undies, and after my shower later on, we’ll see if they fit as well as I think they will. I got a size small in black and one with a floral print, too.

I thought of Andy and laughed since he hates flowers. Not as much as he’d hate our new car stereo. It is sooo cool! The dial slowly cycles through a rainbow of colors. It does quite a bit for $100. It has a USB port, Bluetooth and more. We didn’t get new speakers since ours are adequate enough. The car stereo that came with the car broke so that’s why we got a new one. Might even get a new car soon, but instead of selling this one, we’d keep it as a backup.

Also at Target, I got 4 fuchsia fast-dry bath towels that were on sale for $4 a piece to replace the absolutely shitty towels we’ve got now that are the absolute worst we ever had. I don’t know the brand, but oh the lint they drop! There’s pink and purple fuzz all over the walls, and I don’t see how they haven’t fully disintegrated by now. Not sure I want to use the new towels here or not.

I looked at wedge sandals but all the heels on the ones I saw were either too low or too high.

Then it was off to KFC where he got the usual barbecued chicken sandwich, and I got a 2-piece chicken meal with potato wedges and mac-n-cheese. I couldn’t eat it all so Tom finished it off for me. Their chocolate chip cookies rock. Very chocolatey.

Next up was K-Mart, since Tom didn’t find a belt with a plastic clasp at Target. There I got a variety pack of lotion on sale – white chocolate, chocolate mint, vanilla frost, red velvet, warm vanilla, sugar candy and cotton candy.

It’s getting kind of close to when we have to take off again, so I’ll finish with the shopping and all that later.

Later…

Okay, now I can finish up our long, but fun day. As I said before, I had the first eye pressure test at 8:30, then we went to Target, K-Mart, Radio Shack and Best Buy. We didn’t get anything at Radio Shack. We only went to see if they had a holder for Kindles that we could hook to our headboard shelf so I could read in bed hands-free. The thing is kind of heavy for these little hands of mine. They didn’t have one, though, and neither did Best Buy (where we got the car stereo), so we ordered the holder, plus the belt he wanted, online.

We made two more stops before my second test. We went to the pet store and got the rats a new pink transparent plastic burrow, which will be easier to clean than the old, smelly wooden one, which I have donated to the wildlife. I placed it down toward the back of the property.

We also got them a hanging stack of colored wood chews with a little bell on the bottom. I almost got them a soft fuzzy hammock but didn’t think they’d really use it.

On the way into the Goodwill I said to Tom, “Watch, now that I just ordered incense, they’ll have tons of it.” And they did. I got opium, rainforest, china rain, obsession, cool water and vanilla.

I also got a cute magenta-colored teddy bear with a white ribbon around its neck, and yes, I know I’m 47, and no, I don’t care if you think I’m utterly insane. It was a cutie! It sits on the bed and looks adorable.

Then I got a 4-pack of body mists – pumpkin brulee, spiced cider, choco latte and peppermint twist. Yes, I am obsessed with smells. I must’ve tried on at least half a dozen perfume testers in the various stores.

After my second test, we went home. I’m getting kind of tired since it’s been a long day and I’ve been up since 6am, so I’ll finish the day tomorrow.

Tomorrow’s my eye appointment. Here’s to hoping the pressure is down! The reason for doing 3 pressure tests throughout the day is to see how much it fluctuates. Glaucoma is more likely the more it fluctuates, so hopefully there won’t be any big swings, and hopefully he won’t recommend eye drops. If he thinks I need them, then he thinks I’m at risk. The more risk he thinks there is, the more he’ll want to take preventative measures.

I was whining to Tom about how long the move is taking, then we were both laughing when he reminded me that part of that is due to our plans that keep changing along the way. All we wanted to do was have at least 3K saved by his birthday last June – and we did – so we could rent a place. But then we found that owning a manufactured home would be much cheaper than renting a house. So, since we were sick of dealing with management companies, landlords, etc., we decided to go for that which meant holding out longer to save more money. Now we have enough saved for something decent, but not the greatest credit. So now we have to clean that up and hope nothing else comes up to delay us.

I knew God wouldn’t make it easy for us and that He would be against what we’re doing. My pain has always been his pleasure, and while I’m certainly not in any “pain” right now and life is otherwise great, I knew He wouldn’t have seen to it that we lost two places if He wanted us owning. Well, we may not always have as much free will as we’d like, and sometimes we get caught up in circumstances beyond our control that take some time to escape, but we WILL one day own again. That much is going to be up to US. I don’t know if it’ll be in our favorite park, but we’re not going to settle either.

Nane once said that if I had any doubts, don’t do it. This was sound advice too, cuz if you have any doubts it’s usually for a reason, and moving into a place full of doubt instead of excitement is never a good thing. My gut instinct has rarely let me down, so I’m going to trust whatever it tells me.

If we can’t get a hold of the realtor to show us the new Skyline tomorrow in the park that’s here in town, we’ll at least drive by it. Finding out who owns that strip of grass between it and next door would be nice to do since I know we could never get lucky enough to get next to those who love only cats or nothing at all.

Later…

Definitely gotta keep most of this entry private. Good news: They just jacked my husband’s income to 50K. Bad news: Part of the way they do that is because the 10-hour shifts are back, including Saturday, which means we’ll never have time to move no matter how much money we have. We probably won’t really make 50K in the end, but there’s no way in hell we’ll be under 40K.

Talk about being overcompensated! Sometimes we really do get what we ask for… tenfold. Less than two years ago we were wishing someone would give him just two lousy weeks of work and now he can’t stop working. Less than one year ago I was thinking how wonderful it would be to have vision coverage and now I can’t stop going to the damn eye doctor (hopefully tomorrow will be it for a year).

Tom’s ordering new work shoes to help his feet and asked if I wanted anything. Sure. How ‘bout some incense? So I got ten 20-packs of patchouli, lavender, strawberry, cedarwood, apple cider, peach, scary night, shower and flowers, a variety pack consisting of love, musk and honeysuckle, and one containing cinnamon, vanilla and raspberry.

Another reason I wanted to keep this private is that I don’t want to mention Dorene’s rudeness and paranoia in public for fear of it encouraging her to harass me, but much more importantly, harassing my friends. I could just keep blocking the bitch, but with my friends, it would be different. I could explain the situation to them if they were harassed and questioned me about it, but I would feel so damn bad as hell that they got sucked up into this bitch’s web of shit. Wish I could tell myself not to worry or care about what happens to others, but I do care. I do care if you’re someone that really matters to me. Unfortunately, she blocked me before I could block her, which means I’ve got to watch my friend list and block her if she reappears on the list. I also set my friend list so only I see it, not that she couldn’t see friends who have posted things and left comments and likes.

Dorene is a 32-year-old, bisexual mulatto woman living in New York who also attended Valleyhead. We never met, though, cuz she was there a decade after I was. While I knew she was moody and opinionated, she was still smart, unlike Kim and Molly. She attends college and seems to want to really make something of her life. While most of her posts were nasty, vengeful and full of anger, I could also relate to a lot of what she said, and the posts were well-written. Sometimes they were even funny even when they weren’t meant to be since she often added a touch of humor to even the more serious posts.

I liked Dorene even though the posts pertaining to color and race would get old. “I’m an Oreo,” she would randomly come out and post, and I’d be thinking, so? I’m white. Should I tell the whole world? Should I flaunt it and be proud of it? Should I try to use it against those that piss me off? Then I would just roll my eyes and move on.

I knew that most of the claims of discrimination were, as with most blacks these days, more than likely fabricated or at least imagined. So many blacks see racism where it simply does NOT exist. Like today. She posted that she was being discriminated against because two rental companies told her she needed to make 2.5 times her rent. I don’t usually say anything on most of her posts cuz I always figured she’d take it all wrong or read things in that weren’t there. But today I did. Friends are supposed to be able to share their thoughts, right? So I told her that this is common everywhere and that color has nothing to do with these income requirements. They told Tom and I that we’d need to make something like 3 times the space rent for one of the parks we checked out.

Anyway, I don’t know what she didn’t get about what I said or where she thought I was saying they should be allowed to discriminate against those with disabilities because then I got, “Are you implying they should discriminate against those with disabilities or who are low income? How dare you assume shit, blah, blah, blah… and leave rude comments, blah, blah, blah…” Then it was off on a poor-poor-black people tangent and I’m like, what’s race or color got to do with income requirements?

Really, I am sick to death of some groups’ non-stop whining. There is no appeasing and satisfying some folks! Blacks may not be as bad as Muslims, but sometimes they really make it hard for others to give them a chance and to like them and to be their friend. Why don’t people see these people for the hating, paranoid, excuse-making, finger-pointing, lazy assholes so many of them can be? Because they don’t want to? They cry discrimination in everything. Everyone’s always out to get them, so they think. But then why are most prisoners these days white? Well, it isn’t cuz more whites commit more crimes but because they’re the ones not getting away with it.

We drove through this rundown neighborhood that was predominantly black and I shook my head in sad disgust. Why? Because it’s not 1950! It doesn’t have to be this way anymore. They have more opportunities at their disposal these days than whites ever had. There is so little discrimination these days (that’s actually real) and they are given first dibs on nearly everything. Yet too many of them still choose to join gangs, jump on welfare, sit at home and resort to a life of crime. But why? If they’re physically and mentally able to work, why? They don’t have to live like this anymore! Some may fall on hard times just like everyone else, but really, I’m all outa sympathy for these folks. Give some folks the world and they’ll still shit on you cuz enough is never enough for angry, vengeful people who feel the need to try to avenge the past and take advantage of all that’s given to them, even if it means fucking people over by reverse discriminating against them.

Then I get one final message about having my husband’s money to “hide” behind (always that evil homemaker. So what if she works part-time online and does her best despite a seriously debilitating sleep disorder that greatly hinders and limits what she can do and when she can do it), stop dressing like a 5-year-old (what does the way I dress have anything to do with her misunderstanding my point?), and go to hell, white bitch (again, only she sees and mentions color).

Well, I’m no longer open to making new friends no matter how kind they may seem at first and no matter what their color or nationality. There are just too many crazies out there misunderstanding the simplest things and going off over nothing. Tell someone to have a good day and they just might take it as you telling them to kill their family and then themselves. Andy, Nane, Mary, Adonis, Alison and those I’m closest to online really help make up for these assholes and I love and appreciate them all the more for it.

I didn’t bother to waste my time trying to defend myself or explain that she missed my point. I’m only writing about it here because that’s what a journal is for. I can tell people something, but I can’t make them get it. I don’t need this kind of childish drama in my life either, and she can go take her moods out on others. When shit hits me, I remove myself from it. It’s easier that way.

But this is the type of person to stalk people. It’s not just something I suspect, but that she herself has actually admitted to, and quite proudly. Oh yeah, she’s admitted to plenty of acts of revenge she’s taken pleasure in, and to stalking old friends, girlfriends and boyfriends. So this isn’t something I’m just assuming.

Then a friend of hers messaged me (it went to my ‘other’ box) asking me who the hell I think I am and how Dorene’s sharing my pics to laugh at with others.

Fine with me. If I was worried about pics being shared, they’d never be online anywhere at any time to begin with. Without replying, I blocked the childish bitch.

Hopefully, Dorene and her cronies will leave me and my friends alone, though I’d rather her hit me with 20 messages a day than just 1 to a friend, especially my family. After dealing with Molly and then Kim, I don’t need troll #3 to have to play block it with. Fortunately, I’m not nearly as reachable as I used to be.

A part of me still misses Ask, despite the never-ending slew of trolls that pestered me and then latched onto those I would communicate with regularly there. I’m going to wake that account up late in the night in the next day or two just to keep it alive in case I ever change my mind and decide to use it again. I like to keep my options open. If only trolls, as a rule, didn’t pester our friends! I don’t mind deleting and blocking their shit that much. That’s easy enough to do. But I feel terrible when they involve others who have nothing to do with whatever it is they’ve decided is so evil about me that I must be stalked, hounded, followed and pestered.

Wonder if she has my blog links? She knows about MyOpera because she commented on them (on FB since she couldn’t do it on the blog). This isn’t important, though. She can’t access me there and there’s no one to mess with there. My friends there are people I’m either very close to that would go to bat for me in a heartbeat and that wouldn’t buy anything the crazy bitch said, or they’re nearly strangers.

There’s a spider on the wall. I think I’ll go “hide” behind my husband and make him kill it.

Woke up both excited and bummed out. Excited to know we found the park we want to live in, but bummed to know that we might be many months away from having good enough credit to get into it. I keep trying to tell myself there are worse things in life than being here another year, but it’s bad enough. Yes, I really want to get into this park, we both love it, but another year of loud vehicles, pesky landlords, old dumps, insufficient space and a crappy internet connection? It’s too bad I can’t stand apartments. We could hole up there for a year, and even if it were a small 1-bedroom, at least it would have cable and not be as old as this place. But in truth, I wouldn’t get any sleep, and if our credit isn’t good enough for the park, it may not be good enough for a rental company either unless we got a cheap dump in the slums which is never going to happen. So… the waiting game must go on. Hopefully, there won’t be too many problems with this dump before we leave it, but we’ll almost certainly have to deal with the roofing excursion. I really hope that doesn’t take too many days!

Exchanged a few messages with Nane yesterday, who’s to be busy catching up for the next few days. The poor girl is hating how cold it is there after having such beautiful weather for a week. We’re going to be in the 70s here by the end of the week.

Tammy and I wrote our own 1-year-anniversary memorials to Dad (I can’t wait to see what she comes up with for Mom’s in September) and we were laughing our asses off about an idea I’d had for a Mother’s Day card if we could resurrect her just long enough for it. A picture of a cockroach jelly sandwich (which totally grossed Tom and Andy out) with a note inside saying: Eat shit and die again, bitch!

I was thinking about how mom pitted her against me as well as others she’s come between and tried to get on her side and against this one or that one as if it were a fucking high school popularity contest or something, and I gotta wonder what could make a person so sick, but mostly so mean. For what good, honest, rational reason would she try to pit Tammy against me??? What kind of mother pits one of her kids against another? I just don’t get it or see any sense or logic to that whatsoever. It just seems so wrong, unfair and unnecessary.

Nothing potentially meaningful or even interesting in last night’s dreams. Although I can’t remember them, I had a few dreams of Adonis probably because he’s the last one I chatted with online before bed.

Speaking of Adonis, I learned yesterday that he’s one of the ones picking on Molly on her blog. Molly’s mysterious friend still leaves words of encouragement as well, and I’m still not sure who it is. But Adonis gave himself away by making a common grammatical error that I’ve only known him to make. It seems that one of the girls at Marbridge who may be picking on her is named Gemma, but he spelled it with one m. I know this is kind of dishonest of me, but as a test, I told Adonis in public on Facebook that I had a dream he told me he pulled a prank on someone we both knew, and he messaged me to ask that I remove that comment. So that pretty much confirmed my suspicion that it was he who told her he thought she still needed help and shouldn’t be online.

I agree. I don’t see one tiny shred of change in Molly other than that she is kept busy enough that she can’t spend nearly as much time online as she used to. I dread the day when she can! But she’s still the same old naturally miserable whackjob as always, saying she’s not talking about her former friends in one breath, but then missing them in the next. Nothing but anger, sadness and anxiety from her with very little joy mixed in.

Kim, if the Maya account really is hers, hasn’t posted anything in a couple of weeks, and Nancy’s never going to get back online.

Kim seems to be oh-so well-behaved lately, but I’m not fooled. I know the celebrity friend requests stopped because I tweaked my settings, I know the MD messages stopped because she knows I’ll publish her messages (after a little editing), and I know I don’t hear from her because she can’t comment on my other blogs or ask me “questions” on Ask. She probably fears I’ll go to her sister again if she starts her shit back up again with me, but I won’t. I won’t because I know she won’t help me. I doubt she’s really all that worried about the sister and the publishing of her messages. Clearly, she has no conscious and clearly she doesn’t care what happens to her. If anything getting in trouble would be one more reason to feel sorry for herself and one more thing to blame on others.

Tom looked in my ear, said it looked beautifully clean, and so that told me that there was something else going on besides the pressure of when it gets gunked up with dead skin. Probably has to do with the eardrum getting sucked back like the doctor in Oregon said. sighs I just wish I’d never had the damn surgery to begin with!

Another surprise, painless period with heavy bleeding. The bleeding didn’t last long, but I still wonder why my cycle is so screwy now. I’m two days early, too. I may have cramps tomorrow.

Later…

My friend Mary is a victim’s advocate and she is the absolute best advocate to have. Not just because she’s smart, compassionate and good with words, but because she knows what it’s like to be a victim, suffering at the hands of an abusive monster that never should’ve been given the right to grace this planet with its evil presence.

Mary not only shares thoughts, links and videos pertaining to victims of domestic violence, but those that also expose corrupt officials, laws and prison systems, both foreign and not. We probably don’t agree on every single issue, but I think it is wonderful that she posts such enlightening material. Issues that certainly need to be addressed and dealt with properly.

One of the videos she shared showed 4 or 5 Russian guards beating the shit out of a male prisoner that was resisting giving up his civilian clothes for prison duds. The inmate was screaming like crazy as he was hit, kicked, punched and slapped. While it was clearly prisoner abuse and while I have no idea why these guards would film themselves engaging in the kind of corruption that I would think could get them in an awful lot of trouble (though I’m not familiar with Russian laws), I said to myself, “I wonder what this prisoner was convicted of because if it’s anything violent or sexual, I’m not going to feel bad for this guy.”

Sure enough, he was in for 3 years for assault. Seems like he was just getting a taste of his own medicine to me. Yeah, sometimes karma really does bite us in the ass. Okay, so two wrongs may not make a right and guards shouldn’t be allowed to beat the snot out of their prisoners, but it’s really hard for me to feel sorry for this guy any more than I could feel sorry for a rapist that gets raped behind bars, etc. If this guy had assaulted me, I’d probably be cheering the guards on. Although no one ever laid a hand on me, if anyone knows what it’s like to be legally railroaded, it’s me. And if anyone is against corrupt law enforcement officials, it’s me. But my sympathy falls short of those who are simply getting what they dished out. Now this guy knows firsthand what it’s like to be assaulted. Maybe he’ll remember the next time he’s on the outs and thinks of kicking ass.

Rather than enclose the link to the video here, just ask if you want it and I will get it to you.

I can’t help but see some of the latest headlines when I check my email, and seeing one about a 76-year-old mother who smothered her baby daughter in 1957 who’s only now going to do just a measly 45 days in jail and 10 years probation only makes me hate God even more right along with the people in this sick, crazy world.

I used to laugh at those who said God gave us free will. After all, we can’t always be where we want to be and do what we want to do when we want to do it. Sometimes we can never do it at all. But maybe we do have more free will than I realized considering God’s I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude. In other words, God may as well have said to this woman back in 57, “Go ahead, kill your kid. I don’t care. I’m not going to bother getting involved or stopping you, and when you do finally get punished decades later, it’ll barely be a slap on the wrist, so go ahead, do what you want lady. I don’t give a fuck about you or your innocent child that never did a damn thing wrong other than be born to the wrong person.”

Happy 1-year anniversary on the other side, Dad! Well, maybe not “happy” unless the afterlife is a lot more fun than this one. Is there even an afterlife in the first place? Well, if there is, please, please, please take a bat to your wife’s head for me. You wouldn’t do it here, so… if you two are together in the afterlife and she’s not frying in hell, then it’s never too late to do what you, God and the law failed to do here and that’s to finally give her what she deserves!

So Nancy’s birthday would turn out to be D-Day for Dad. She hasn’t appeared to be on Facebook yet either, but I’m sure she’ll be in soon to suck up whatever attention her birthday will bring her. She’s got hundreds of friends but only ONE birthday wish so far, LOL. Good going, Nance!

Let’s see… what else? My ear has been annoying me on and off and we’ll be leaving for the IHOP and to check out parks in an hour or so.

Later…

We left just before 6am, jumped on the freeway, then realized we had forgotten Tammy’s IHOP gift card. Too lazy to turn back and loaded with oodles of money, we ate at Denny’s instead. I’m sure Tammy’s gonna get a kick out of us forgetting to take her card, but the card doesn’t expire and the IHOP isn’t going anywhere, so it’ll wait.

Denny’s was just so-so. I got the T-bone and eggs. The steak was tough, but the eggs, biscuit and red potatoes were pretty good. Tom got an omelet, which he enjoyed very much.

Since the gates weren’t yet open at the “Beverly Hills” park, we headed for Sacramento. The idea was to see the kind of neighborhood the park where you own a percentage of it was located, but thanks to Google who gave us the wrong directions, we simply wasted gas and time. The wetlands looked kind of cool as we passed by the Sacramento River delta.

We passed by the Northgate area too, where the extended-stay hotel was that we were stuck in for 8 months before coming here. I asked Tom if he thought Michelle was still there. Michelle, who worked the front desk, was one of those who was attractive and ugly at the same time. She had a great personality and would often do what she could to accommodate us. At extended-stay hotels, the housekeeper usually only cleans once a week. So depending on my schedule she’d either have the housekeeper come early or at the end of the day.

I joked with him about stopping by the office and, if she were still there, asking to hold off on the housekeeping. Then she’d be like, “Wow, when did you guys come back?!” Then we could really fuck with her head and insist we never left, hahaha.

We hadn’t gotten very far into the park Tom was excited to show me before I readily agreed it is indeed the Rolls Royce of parks! It was utterly gorgeous. Even nicer than the Diamond K Estates all had nice new homes with garages. It looks like a regular neighborhood with regular houses. Most of the houses are really nice and out of our league at the moment, but they do have some that are easily affordable. We could take out a 10-year loan for a nicer place, but we don’t want that kind of debt. Space rent is one thing, but we like to own things outright – cars, houses, everything. Also, we should be able to get something plenty nice enough for much less. Who needs wet bars anyway? Tom never drinks and I almost never do.

The homes range from 10K to over 100K and the park itself is just beautiful. It’s no wonder the homes and space rent are a bit pricey. You can breathe a little easier at this park cuz it’s not so damn cramped and the houses aren’t right on the street either. The roads aren’t so narrow and everything around you is so well maintained. This is the nicest park.

It was so cool when we turned onto one of the streets and saw the fountain shooting up from the center of the large manmade lake in the center of the park. The lakeside houses are obviously more expensive, but it would still be nice to be on one of the streets where you could at least see the lake at the end of it. It’s not a must, but it would still be nice. Especially the fountains. I wonder if the people closest to it feel a mist on windy days.

There were 5 or 6 wild turkeys slowly meandering around which was kind of cool. They seem so brave, though I’m sure they’d run if someone approached them. They’re sure are huge, too! They had to be around 50 pounds.

I didn’t like all the cars. Several houses had 2, even 3 cars parked by it. That could get pretty damn door-slammy with the way people are in and out so often, but I’d rather 2-3 cars parking on me there than 1 parking on me at the “sardine” park which was the worst one we’ve seen so far. That one was unbelievably cramped and mostly consisted of dumpy old single-wides.

I would still prefer not to have anyone’s driveway running alongside our place, or for people to make a habit of hanging outdoors gabbing and whatnot outside our place, but again, I’d take that there over other places as I don’t think it’d be nearly as annoying there given the layout, spacing and the way the houses are set up. I’m sure anyone I shared pics of the place with would be impressed. It’s that nice. Totally worth the space rent which ranges between $600 - $750. A little high, but still easily affordable. We pay $825 here.

The problem is that there’s a nasty catch to every single goddamn thing we want in life. Our credit is no longer shitty, but doesn’t meet their requirements yet. We know without a doubt we could eventually get in there and we know we could find something affordable there in an acceptable location within the park. There were only a few shaky locations, but again, I’d rather those than most other parks. We even saw the two places we had our eye on but didn’t get, and yes, they’re in ideal locations. But we didn’t have 10K last summer, and we don’t want a place that was set up poorly and therefore not structurally sound. They already started ripping out the old carpet, so we saw. It looked like brand-new sculpted carpet online, but Tom said it was just horrible.

It’s not the impossible dream. That’s the good news. The bad is that although it probably won’t, it could take another year before we can get in. It’s going to depend on how strict the park is about their precious magic numbers when it comes to credit scores. While we’re both quick to say we’d rather wait for first best than take second best right away, we also don’t want to remain in the shadow of the Jes pest another year. Just the thought of another year of this dial-up slow Internet connection for another year makes me want to scream. The only thing that’s gotten better here is the barking. I rarely hear them anymore. Makes me think someone’s been staying with him, cuz as soon as he’d take off, especially at this time of year, they’d go batshit crazy for hours. But neither of us wants to live like bums is his microscopic dump while we listen to his fleet of vehicles coming and going, deal with his never-ending slew of projects, and fight to stay online.

So, while we definitely want to aim for this park, we also want to keep all our options open while we’re at it. That means that we’re still going to check out that 1999 Skyline on Wednesday, along with another older, bigger place here in town.

Still… I can’t help but think of the few clues my dreams have yielded thus far – tons of citrus trees, 12K, blue and or tan, right-side parking. I don’t know about the colors as they’re kind of common, and most of the places have right-side parking, but there are some 12K houses in the super nice park (Lakeview) which happens to be in Citrus Heights. I’m hoping the closer we get, the more dream clues I’ll get. Unfortunately, I still don’t think we’re close yet which would explain why I haven’t had many dreams at this point. The “April change” dream could’ve simply meant we’d get my inheritance then, but the dream where I said we’d be over in Lincoln couldn’t have meant anything. Not after learning that the park there is for all ages.

We estimate being able to save another 20K if we are here another year, and that’s without putting much effort into it. If we actually put some serious effort and skimped on things, we could save closer to 30K. For now, it’s back to waiting… listening to Jesse… waiting… listening to Jesse… and dreading the number of plumbing issues we’d be looking at in the interim until we one day take back what God took from us…twice.

Nancy still doesn’t appear to have logged onto Facebook to find what goodies await her there. This should please No One very much. BTW, I appreciate all the comments about how I’m simply expressing myself and all that and not harming anyone. I agree.

On today’s menu is laundry, dishes, cleaning the bathroom, working out, and doing a whole lotta reading and writing.

We’re hoping to check out a house or two for sale here in Auburn when I see the eye doctor on Wednesday. At least I haven’t had any bad dreams about my eyes. I decided that this is it. I don’t want to keep going back to this guy till I need new glasses. So what if I have a touch of elevated pressure? I have too many other things to deal with now like moving, dentists and other doctors. So no matter what he says, I’m not coming back. As they say, ignore big problems and they only get bigger. Ignore little problems and they go away.

Nothing really significant dream-wise. Just snippets of things. Tom and I have been talking about moving more often in my dreams. I’d like to take that as a sign that the move is getting closer, but I still think we’ll be here a long time. There’s simply no time for moving no matter how much money we save. Tomorrow, though, after the IHOP, we’re going to check out some parks.

I ordered our groceries online this morning, and Tom’s going to pick them up on the way home from work. How nice it will be for him to be able to just run in, pay, grab the bags and go, instead of having to pull things off the shelf after what will probably be a 10-hour shift. Poor guy’s gotta work tomorrow too, not surprisingly, and as always, he has mixed emotions about it. He’d love to have the whole weekend off, but he loves the money, too.

He has worked so hard and I have done so much around the house besides hoping my eyes don’t turn into any big deal, that in between the 3 trips to the eye doctor during the 27th, we’re going to treat ourselves to some fun. This will include plenty of eating and shopping, and if I want a $200 dress or he wants a $300 gadget of some kind – fine. So be it. We deserve it! Knowing us, though, we probably won’t even spend $100 that day.

I misunderstood Tammy. The next step is to actually try some treatments on her lungs. It’ll only be if that fails that she’ll have the lung transplant, so hopefully the treatments will work! How strange that would be to be put out and then wake up breathing through someone else’s lungs. Just wish she’d quit her damn smoking! If I could quit so can she.

Been brushing my teeth with baking soda to see if it whitens them as I heard it does, but it irritates my gums if I do it too often, so I’ll do it every few days or so and see what happens.

Rihanna’s back with her abusive BF, so I’ve heard, and 3 young sisters ranging from 9 to 11 were raped and murdered in India. Again I am left to wonder two things – what makes some women crave abuse, and what makes people think that God is good? I try to let people have their own way of thinking, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder about people. Unless there is another entity separate from God that’s just plain evil and that is more powerful than God, God is not good. Yet a frightening amount of people still seem to think He is. I just don’t get that and how any being with a supposed limitless amount of power that doesn’t step in and intervene when it comes to such atrocities can be considered good. I guess that is for them to know and for me not to understand. For me, the final straw with God came in 2000. I promised myself I would never forgive Him and I don’t think I could even if I wanted to, but no, I definitely don’t want to. At this point in my life, while hearing of these tragedies may only fuel my hate for Him, rather than hate Him or not hate Him, I’d rather just not think of Him as much as possible and I would prefer it if He would ignore me as well. I always advised people to just not have anything to do with those they don’t like. Well, if God doesn’t like me, and I don’t like Him, why shouldn’t we do the same thing?

As for Rihanna, women like that really make me sick. It’s sad that some of them enjoy pain and abuse so much that they would actually go back to someone who beat the shit out of them when they have all the money, support and resources in the world to avoid sickos like Chris. There’s got a be a million guys that are hot for her, so why him??? I’m not a celebrity follower, so I don’t know much about her personality or what’s caused this obvious illness/addiction of hers. Just that she’s attractive and has a great voice. But if I were her I’d seek counseling to try to find out why I thought I didn’t deserve better than Chris and why I thought I deserved and even enjoyed getting my ass beat. I just don’t get it. Is it the thrill of being in danger that turns this chick on? Does she actually like pain? Is it just loads of fun to be kicked and slapped around? Does it, in her mind, give her a reason to feel sorry for herself? Is that what she gets off on; feeling sorry for herself and getting sympathy from others? Well, the next time Chris beats her ass – and I don’t see why he wouldn’t since guys like that don’t usually change and she’s already shown that she won’t fight back and will stick around and take it – I won’t feel sorry for her. She’s not responsible for other people’s actions, of course, but when you stick your hand into the tiger’s den, what do you expect? Then again, when he does go to jail for his next assault, it’ll only be for 5 minutes cuz he’s rich, famous, black and male.

What I’d really love to see is for Chris to hit the wrong woman, but that’s the problem with these cocks. Like a vicious dog senses and preys on fear, they usually try to avoid women who will fight back. If they didn’t, the violence against men stats would go up dramatically.

Woe to the cock that ever even thinks of raising a hand to me. I’m faster and stronger than most people, but if I can’t beat your ass black, blue and bloodied with my bare hands, you bet I’ll be coming back for you with mace or a stun gun to render you helpless just long enough to make you regret the day you were born. :)

Later…

So I get this message from No One (noone) scolding me for how I handled Nancy. Read the entry titled “Ha Ha, Nancy” to understand who I’m talking about.

Haven’t I seen that email before? Hmm… I think they may’ve scolded me before, but either way, No One (Aimee in FL? Lauren in NY?) says this:

“Do you ever think that you bring on your own bad fate with your actions? You bitch all the time about how things aren’t going the way you think they should, and then you divulge that you exacted “revenge” on someone you knew 12 years ago? For what gain, exactly? To make yourself feel better? How selfish. You reap what you sow. If you put shit into the world, guess what you’re going to get back?”

All the time? So this is someone who follows me regularly? And why do so many people automatically assume that if something bad happens to us we must’ve brought it on ourselves? Sometimes bad things really do happen to good people. Things they didn’t ask for. Why is that so hard to accept?

And how am I “selfish” for giving someone something they would want to read anyway? I wrote and published these things long before I knew I’d ever find Nancy online and slipped her the link to the entries where I mention her, but I don’t see how doing this is getting “revenge.” Okay, so maybe I’m a bit of a mischievous devil, and maybe it was a bit childish, but how is it actually hurting her? And how can it make me feel better? It’s kind of funny, but it doesn’t make me feel either better or worse.

Maybe No One just needs to spend a little time in a jail cell along with a crazy bitch like Nancy to have a better understanding. Until then she can insult me all she wants, although I know that not everyone means to be insulting and that they’re just expressing their opinion. Well, I’m expressing mine, too. :)

As for things not going the way I think they should, actually most of them have for quite a while now. My life may not be perfect any more than anyone else’s, but I’d say it’s been pretty damn good lately.

I also wonder why I get chided for enacting revenge that really isn’t revenge. Okay, so maybe it might piss Nancy off or maybe she’ll be like yeah, yeah, whatever, but how come so many others can pull shit way worse than I usually pull and everybody’s quick to laugh and applaud THEM? Just wondering why the double standards.

If it makes you feel better, No One, Nancy may never even see the links. As most people know, Facebook has a million and one bugs they never want to fix.

BTW, if we reap what we sow, well, Nancy sowed me.

Had a very long and detailed dream about being in the Witness Protection Program that it’s enough for one entry by itself. I took notes when I got up so I wouldn’t forget anything. It was one of those nightmares that wasn’t. Something bad happened to me, but I didn’t dream that part, fortunately.

I was supposedly home alone and it must’ve been closer to the city if not in the city because I could order a pizza there. With the pizza box in my hand, me not expecting it and it happening too fast to defend myself, the guy punched me harder than hard in the forehead. I was knocked out instantly and then raped and beaten for hours, so I would learn when waking up in the hospital.

Then I was at the police station, which had a Witness Protection Program that housed people like me upstairs. It was sort of like a hotel, though the rooms only had beds and bathrooms. You had to use a community kitchen.

Although the guy responsible was downstairs and in custody, he had friends on the outs working for him that the cops feared would hunt me down and kill me so I couldn’t testify against the guy, who I guess thought left me for dead and not just unconscious.

I was forbidden contact with Tom or friends in case the cock’s buddies were listening in.

Different officers hung out with me, then this cop (Officer John Teton? Tenon?) was assigned the job of “babysitting” me. I guess hiding in the rooms by ourselves above the PD wasn’t enough.

Although I wasn’t the least bit attracted to the 6-foot guy who was a little overweight with a bit of a gut, hazel eyes, brown hair, and a mustache, which I suspected was attracted to me, I found him to be a super nice guy. We had lots of intelligent conversations. At one point I expressed what a nightmare it would be if the perp broke out of his cell, knew I was upstairs, then came after me.

“Well, if he does I’ll shoot him for you,” Tenon said.

I gave him a smile that basically said, thanks. Glad to know you’d do that for me.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to certain sickos responsible for screwing me in another state and I asked Tenon if he’d heard about it.

“Just bits and pieces,” he said, “I’ll check it out later.”

“After you read what they said happened, check with me and I’ll tell you what really happened. The cops and media bought everything the so-called vics said without verifying anything first, if it was even verifiable at all.”

He nodded sympathetically and the next thing I knew, it was nighttime and we headed to our room for bed. I didn’t like that the room had just one bed, but I didn’t feel threatened. I was too tired to really care anyway and fell asleep fully dressed, facing away from Tenon.

Sometime in the night, I awoke to the bed shaking and Tenon chanting, “Why does my head hurt so bad, why does my head hurt so bad…?”

I got up, flipped the light on, and found him rocking back and forth on the edge of his side of the bed with his hands holding the sides of his head, obviously in excruciating pain. I waited a few minutes, but he kept up the slow rocking. “Any better?” I finally asked.

He shook his head. I stepped toward him and he started to talk. I cut him off and said, “John, I’m a psychic influencer and dream premonitioner, but you have to be quiet and let me do my thing.”

Instead of laughing or telling me I was full of shit, he quieted and gave a quick nod. I placed my index and middle fingers on his forehead as he lay back against the pillow, and concentrated really hard.

A few minutes later I said, “It’s gone now, isn’t it?”

He nodded and smiled. Then he jumped off the bed. I thought he was nauseous now and was going to run into the bathroom and puke. Instead, he reached for his phone and told whoever answered that I was “psychic as hell.” He said it with an I-found-gold kind of excitement.

Then he hung up and told me we were going to be moved closer to the perp to see what I could pick up from him.

“Why don’t you just take me to beat the living shit out of him instead?” I asked.

Instead of an answer, Tenon told me to hurry up and gather my stuff. Then he led me to an area where two corridors crossed. There was a bench, which I sat on by a couple of elevators. The bright lights hurt my tired eyes.

Tenon asked how I learned to do that and I told him that I didn’t. “It’s not something you learn, but something you one day realize you can just do. There’s no instruction manual on how to be psychic that you can just run out and buy, Tenon.”

Tenon turned to talk to some other officer and I tried to imagine Nane’s reaction when I could finally email her about the situation. Then a tall skinny black or mulatto woman with short hair that wasn’t in uniform walked by and said, “Come on.”

The dream ended with me following her and wondering if I’d ever see Tenon again. I shouted, “Thanks for all the card games,” but wasn’t sure he heard me.

This nearly 1,000-word dream was definitely one of the longest I’ve ever had!

Later…

The part of Walter’s message that I swear wasn’t visible yesterday magically reappeared today. I sent a copy to Tammy and Andy to check out, and I’m going to really wonder what the hell’s going on if they tell me they didn’t get it. Tammy’s got doctor’s appointments to deal with today, so she may not check in for a while. She said all she does is sleep. Poor thing.

I was recently telling my good friend Adonis that few blogs seize my attention, but one more did today. I guess my own blog, diary, journal – whatever you want to call it – snagged this guy Dorian’s attention because of my dreams and psychic experiences. So we got into a little discussion and I found his diary to be just as interesting and well written.

Tom says he really likes the idea of picking out a place around April cuz it gives us a chance to look at a bunch of places both cheap and more expensive. This way we’re not passing up something good by rushing into the first place we can get. By April we’ll have better credit and will have paid off our yearly bills. The car insurance thing is coming up soon. As he also said, if we find a great deal on a place beforehand, then fine. So if he and the dreams say April, then April it is.

Had to laugh when he said that by April the weather will be getting warmer and we’ll be able to judge how much activity there is around the place. Well, I can tell him about the activity cuz I know what it’ll be like cuz I have common sense. It goes like this: No one indoors when it’s not too cold, hot or rainy. Everyone must be outdoors landscaping, gardening or just enjoying the fresh air. There must be as many pedestrians as in the mainstream or close to it and most must be accompanied by a mutt.

At least there won’t be any kids or loud car stereos.

Besides, we could move in next to ideal neighbors that turn around and move a few months later and are replaced with trouble. It’s happened before. So what you see isn’t what you’ll always get. It just depends. All I know is that the bastard above loves to sic the wrong neighbors on us. So if they aren’t already there, I’m sure He’ll bring them to us at some point. That’s just one area in life God loves to torture me with. I still don’t fully believe He’s done beating us over the head with money either. I think He’ll find a way to get it out of our hands sooner or later. Clearly, though, our lives have been nothing but uphill overall since that miraculous job call came in September of 2011. It’s hard to believe God would suddenly decide to be so nice to us. So then what is being so nice to us and keeping God at bay? It’s like something made a deal with Him to leave us the fuck alone.

When Tom and I were talking earlier I was telling him how I’d never guess him to be with someone like me if I was a waitress that waited on him regularly or was a coworker or something like that. because he’s so kind and mellow I’d picture him to be with some shy, quiet, mousy woman who was quite ordinary. You know, “normal.” Because opposites don’t usually attract and people want duplicates they can relate to, I’d never guess him to be with a nutty, eccentric, feisty person like me who has so much trouble doing what comes so easily to most, and an easier time doing what most struggle with.

Later…

Sometimes I think of returning to Ask and not allowing for anonymous questions for a year or so. After all, Kim never harassed me there with a regular account. Molly may ask things, but I could just block or ignore her. She’s crazy but not Kim crazy. She’s also not afraid to contact people out of anonymity. Well… I’ll think about it. Maybe that would be better than eventually going from not there at all, to there and allowing anonymous questions. If they see me there for a long time without allowing anonymous questions, they may assume I’ll never allow them and not bother to follow me. I decided a while ago, though, that I don’t care if they read my blogs. And so what if they see pictures of our future home? It is only pictures. They won’t know where it is because I don’t post addresses online or any links containing addresses.

I’m not going to put this part online any more than the thing about Ask cuz Tammy said she didn’t tell Sarah everything. Her breathing tests were worse and she’s basically got two options. What she’s got isn’t curable so one option is to remove part of the lung that’s been giving her problems, or take some IV cancer medicine, as she put it, and begin the long road toward a possible lung transplant.

Ugh! Just ugh! Vengeful bitch at times or not, indirect hand in making my life hell for years or not, what a shitty thing to have to go through. Back when I had that dream that she died, I didn’t think she really would die, but I knew trouble was ahead. You can’t be like me and have a dream like that and not expect trouble.

Another thing that can’t go in public, or that I should at least “whisper” is Alison’s reply to my witness protection dream. She said: Coincidentally, just last night my mom called to ask me if I know a John who used to be an Omaha cop but now works in the criminal investigation unit of the FBI. I do, but I don’t know the last name (because I have very little to do with that department) and I don’t know if he has any ties with Witness Protection. Still, sometimes, Jodi, I swear you and I are, in a way, the same person. Very detailed dream, though!

It is really weird!

Last night’s dreams only consisted of Aly winning a Pulitzer, and some friend committing suicide. I don’t know who the friend was, but I was standing over their grave and saying, “I’m so, so sorry God gave you more than you could handle,” and went on to say what a bastard He was for it, how I’d miss them, and so on and so forth.

I know that how much money one makes isn’t necessarily a true measure of success. Quitting smoking, losing weight and getting fit is a huge measure of success right there as are so many other things in life. But sometimes I still feel as unaccomplished as I am accomplished. I feel like I have nothing to show for my efforts and that no matter how many languages I learn or how many stories I write, I will always be a failure of sorts. Does everybody feel like this at times?

How is it that I hate beer as much as I do for its nasty, bitter taste, yet I just love beer-battered products? Beer-battered fish and chicken rocks! And I just love how the rats get all excited when they smell me cooking. It’s so cute how they beg for whatever I’m making. We were all playing yesterday morning, and today I let them out to run around after Tom left. Sugar’s so cute the way he jumps and climbs all over me. Romeo mostly prefers to explore the vast, cavernous space under the futon, LOL.

I wish it would rain more here, but I have a feeling things are going to be very dry while we’re still here so the Jes pest can be outdoors being a pest. First I heard him buzzing around on the ATV, then loud vehicles coming and going, then banging. I don’t know if they were car doors slamming or him throwing things into a bin or something. I just know that it was too much from one person and too much to be hearing down here. Then again, how am I to know he was alone? Meanwhile, I’m sure that in a few hours when it’s warmer and lighter I’ll have to hear about whatever project he’s working on now. Too much rain gets depressing, but it sure would be nice if it could rain once or twice a week. The lack of summer rain is okay because then it’s too hot for the cock to be out as much. From now until June, though, he’ll live outdoors.

Make sure you give us outdoorsy neighbors with tons of company in the next place too, God. Oh, and be sure to set their mutts off on the way in and out with them and have them bark out of open windows – the ones closest to us – and make sure any visiting kids are screaming like hyenas. And don’t forget to maybe have a pipe or two burst under our street so I can listen to them digging up the road. Ooh, and how about having next door renovate or get a new AC or something like that? Of course, if you really want to be nice to us you could have the players involved be batshit crazy. That’d really be the icing on the cake, wouldn’t it be, Mr. Enabler?

Later…

OMG, this is sooo fucking funny! As I have so shamelessly written in all my journals, I was once framed by a crooked cop when my husband and I launched a city complaint against some welfare bums who once lived next to us and were personal friends of his. This landed me in jail for 6 months and I was eventually vindicated, and well, it’s a long story I could go on and on about, but I won’t.

Well, for a brief time in February of 2001, one of the worst cellies I ever had was a then 29-year-old girl named Nancy. She had a great body but a hideously ugly face. She was in for drugs, assault, and I think absconding, too.

The “toothless wad of acne” as I’d refer to her when she’d piss me off, really scared the shit out of me at one point that the detention officer on duty had to move me to another cell. It was too bad that Nancy turned out to be such a shit too, cuz other than her crazy, insane, unfuckingbelievably frustrating and even scary moods, she had a lot of good qualities. She was smart, she was mature, she was liberal, she was a good singer.

But Nancy obviously had a guilty conscience and plenty to hide given the fact that she was incredibly paranoid about the fact that I was keeping a journal and documenting every single experience I had at this jail from the inmates to the officers to the food to the living conditions to everything.

One day she totally flipped on me, and I mean flipped. She thought she was having a miscarriage when two tests confirmed she wasn’t pregnant, and decided to take it out on me. Not just by being a bitch but by threatening me. I’ll be the first to admit that Nancy could’ve kicked my ass, and God only knows what she’d have done had the DO not passed by when she did. Even if I could’ve kicked her ass, I still didn’t have the luxury of doing so because then I would have lost my visitation and commissary privileges. So it was a no-win situation either way.

She and Myra, in for child molestation, were the worst. For a week or two, they tormented me to no end with their mouth, taunts and threats, though it was always done through cooling/heating vents other than the first time Nancy threatened me as well as to tear up all my journals. Even after I was put in my own cell they continued to make their little threats, Nancy demanding the journals be turned over to her, Myra promising to shut up and leave me alone if I’d quit announcing to the whole pod what she’d done to her kids with her BF.

As most of you also know, I’ve been dropping or changing last names and slowly posting old journals from the 80s on up along with my current everyday stuff, and was going through the day Nancy ran me out of the cell and saw that I’d written that she told me she had 3 boys in Indiana. So I looked her up on Facebook and MySpace and found her in Indiana. I couldn’t resist contacting her and slipping her the link to the journals she has wanted so desperately to get a hold of for 12 years now, LMAO!!!

I know some would consider me vengeful and childish for dropping the links on her, but I just couldn’t resist, hahaha. Sometimes sweet old-fashioned revenge really is fun and good for the soul so long as no one’s being hurt and so long as no laws are being broken. Worst-case scenario Nancy’s just not too thrilled with reading what she reads if she really does read the journals. But hey, she should’ve thought of that beforehand, right? Then again, I knew her in 2001. Who could’ve known we could one day share our lives with the world at just the click of a mouse? LOL

Something up there must really want her to see these journals too, cuz I was able to “like” things on her page, share her profile, and even follow her. This way, if she doesn’t get my messages, I should still have her attention. Yeah, we may forget those we threaten, but they don’t forget us.