Although I didn’t want it to, and although I may hate to admit it, a sense of sadness came over me along with a sense of closure upon reading Walter’s email. To see two people’s lives picked apart, torn down and liquidated to nearly nothing is kind of sad. If my parents were suddenly alive they’d be worth even less than my husband and I were when we were on the streets of Sacramento. But as I learned those days I hopelessly begged for God to help us and was instead guided into disaster, we’re the only ones we can count on in life. Just us and our loved ones. The more we waste time hoping and waiting for some unseen force to come and guide us onto the right path in life, the longer we will be miserable, not that one can necessarily speed up the hands of time when one wants to. Circumstances beyond our control will arise no matter what, and sometimes we’re affected by them in a bad way for longer than we’d like.

It’s still a sad thought, despite the assholes that they were, to know that if my parents were suddenly alive and whole once again, they would have absolutely NOTHING. No home, no car, no food, no money, no clothes, no shoes, nothing. This saddens me until I remember how they treated me, especially my mother. God allowed her to abuse me and He also protected her from the law. What is He now blessing the bitch with in the afterlife if one exists? With my shit luck, she’s probably got it sweet and fine.

Or maybe the events in our lives really are totally random, as some people believe. Maybe there is no God and maybe there is no afterlife. I wish I knew all the answers, but I just don’t. It just feels weird to know we’re worth thousands. They’re worth nothing. Just a big fat NOTHING.

Later…

I’ve been staying out of it, but apparently, it’s not just Kim and Kathy leaving nasty comments on Molly’s blog, but other fuckheads at Marbridge as well. Seems that not surprisingly, Molly’s made enemies there as well. The nut leaves a trail of enemies in her wake as I leave a trail of perfume in mine. The troll’s visiting with her parents at a hotel in Austin and the other group homies are letting her know just how happy they are that she’s not there. Oh, and picking on her weight, too.

Now Molly just wrote a post saying she suspects “a girl named Jodi is behind the fake accounts and strange comments” she gets.

What fake accounts? And why does she suspect me when it’s obvious who it really is? Is she in some sort of denial? She must be because right after “Michael, Alan and Gemma” from Marbridge left their nasty comment, she said everyone there likes her and texts her. Yeah, right. You’re such a wonderful person, Molly, aren’t you?

Anyway, I don’t care what she thinks, though all she has to do is install a tracker and that should tell her who’s visiting her. As long as the kiddy drama stays out of my own blogs, though I can ensure this by disabling anonymous comments, she can write what she wants and she can kid herself all she wants, too.

I did let Jennifer have it after all and I feel kind of bad for it. I told her so too, after she said she never asked for or received anything from my parents, she couldn’t care less, and she makes her own money, thank you.

I guess I felt the need to vent, though as I told her, I realize it’s not fair to blame her for other people’s actions and that I know she’s not responsible for what others do.

Later…

I swear I really am done dying my hair this time and that this will be it for quite a while. I swear! I am so sick of this ammonia-reeking, hair-thinning, hair-frying shit that is not only too short-lived but that I still seem to drip on the floor even if it’s the foamy, no-drip type of dye. The funny part was getting it on pesky Jesse’s already-stained, old, ugly tan carpet. I didn’t realize I stepped into a glob of foam that hit the floor. So now there are two little brown partial footprints on the living room carpet, hahaha.

After we move I’ll eventually visit a salon, have my layers and dead ends trimmed, have it professionally dyed one last time to a light brown that’ll blend with the gray better, and then just let it all grow out and just stay gray. I’m 47 for God’s sake, not 27. If I were young and single the last thing I’d want was gray hair, and no, it doesn’t look as good as colored hair, but so what if I go from ugly to uglier? Tom loves me no matter what, and I ain’t getting any younger or prettier anyway.

The Jes pest was at it again today with the water games. I noticed the water pressure was low when I got up at noon and peed. Tom said it wasn’t and that he ran into the cock on the way back from the store who said he had drained the tanks and that they’d be filled back up in an hour.

Jeez, thanks, Jes. What if we’d been in the shower or something? And when is this restless bastard going to take one day – just one lousy day – off from fiddling with shit that should be left alone?! If he could just be kind enough to break a leg, we could be out of here before it’s healed enough for him to go running around the land and messing up this and messing up that all over again. For now, the water’s still not clear but is better than it was, though it still stinks. Just stepping into the bathroom you can smell the bleach coming from the toilet water. Is he out of his mind or is his sense of smell just that dead?

Andy said he thought otherwise at first, but could now see where I may want to send him a long heartfelt letter concerning the way he and his mutts have stolen my peace and tranquility. Ah, but why waste a stamp when I can just email his sister or leave a note under the stove and fridge, figuring that sooner or later they’ll break and need replacing. He’ll then come to haul them out of here and discover my piece of mind under them, LOL. Then again, our reasons for moving are no big secret and nothing we couldn’t tell him directly to his face. We’re sick of the lack of space. We’re tired of old, problematic places. We’re tired of him. We’re tired of his mutts. We’re tired of the shitty Internet connection. Period.

The mutts have actually been amazingly quiet. Jesse’s driving me crazy more with water problems and worries of him disturbing my sleep than with noise, though I still hear loud vehicles coming and going. I worried I’d jinx myself by saying this. Sure enough, at 6:00 this evening the mutts went off. I also worried he’d be gone overnight since they’re terrified to be left alone at night and wouldn’t stop till around 3am, but 10 minutes later I stepped out of the sound of the air cleaner I’d clicked on and into the bathroom, and all was silent as can be. He probably just went to bring his kid back to his mom’s.

Had dreams about the new place being around 1400 square feet. That seems a little big to be believable. It’s possible, but most of the double-wides we’re looking at are closer to 1000 square feet. Plenty for us and twice as much as what we’ve got now.

I also had a dream about writing about my experiences with dating 3 different women, one white, one Indian, and one Italian. I was going to incorporate them into a story, I guess. I don’t know if I really did date these women or if I got the idea through a dream in the dream I had, but it seems I had especially nice things to say about the Italian chick, LOL.

In real life, I have a tall, sexy-hot German cyber GF who never fails to remember me once or twice a week by sending a nice message letting me know what’s up with her and asking how I’ve been. :) It is obvious that she cares about me and what’s going on with me.