Tammy messaged me on Facebook to tell me she had a wonderful visit with Lisa who is leaving tomorrow. I took that as my cue to let her know why I had been hesitant to reach out to her. While it was definitely wrong of me to bash her in public, I didn’t like being accused of lying either. If she had any doubts or questions about anything, she should have asked me in a civilized manner. Meanwhile, I’m glad she sobered up and I realize she had a lot of problems back then. I’m also glad she and Tammy are getting along and I hope it stays that way, and that the cycle of family drama won’t be back later on down the road. I know I’m gone forever if it is.

Finished my Bowflex workout. It’s so nice to be able to add more and more weight the longer I continue to work out. I had to drop back some of the arm weights upon returning from vacation, but now I’m beyond where I was back then. Still don’t expect to lose weight as I’m not going to get any younger and my Hashimoto’s isn’t going away, but I’m definitely getting stronger.

Went out walking with Tom after work. The weather’s gorgeous… dry, sunny and 70s.

As is typical of me these days, my story was off to a good start. Got about 6 pages written containing about 1600 words, and I have already lost motivation to continue on with it. :(

Last night I beat the shit out of Jodi Arias in my dreams. Yeah, the bitch escaped from prison in Arizona and came up to NorCal where she had connections. She was hiding out at a friend’s place when someone called and tipped her off that the cops were onto her location. So she ran blindly, and when I was taking out the trash in the dream, there she was. I clearly recognized her from all the news footage I’d seen of her. She tried to push past me and into the house, but I threw every punch and kick I could as fast and as hard as I could while Tom called the police.

Went to Goodwill earlier. I swear one could use them alone just to collect stuff! You just never know what goodies they’re going to have, and we hadn’t been there since before the trip. I got a gold figurine of a rat that’s fairly large and a small parrot figurine that goes perfectly with the larger one I got in Florida.

I also got an 18” vinyl doll with a nice face and well-sculpted hands. I replaced her drab outfit, but need to re-wig her or get her a hat or something. Her hair is totally trashed. Like someone grabbed a pair of scissors and started chopping in random spots.

So yesterday they spent hours tearing up the yard at the house that sold, and today the house across the street had a bunch of people over who appeared to be hauling away a couch and some other items. She’s a little too company-happy, but please don’t tell me she’s getting ready to move too! Really, why are so many houses going up for sale all of a sudden?

Haven’t seen Hazel in ages now. I’m guessing that if she’s still alive she’s been moved to a home somewhere. She was pretty out of it last I knew.

Anyway, I wonder what they’ll plant in place of what they removed? Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll have to hear all about it. I wish they’d at least make quiet weekends mandatory. We hear enough shit during the week.

The good news is that I had a win-dream. Yes! I would always win something following a dream about winning back when I was last at it, though I wouldn’t usually win what I dreamed of winning. I just hope it’s a good sign! The first is right around the corner, the most likely time for your name to be drawn.

In the dream, I won a huge coffeemaker that could serve many people at once. I told Tom that if we didn’t get to take in the foster kids we were expecting to take in, we’d sell it, LOL. Never saw myself getting affidavits notarized or anything like that, but it’s a hopeful sign just the same.

Here goes another neighbor/noise rant. I just need to vent! It’s been my experience that those that move in next to us usually start off fairly peaceful and respectful and then it’s like… we’re here! Now the newcomers aren’t doing anything even remotely “disrespectful,” but they sure are annoying. Today it was doing what I wish we could afford to do; having nearly every single plant torn out of their yard. I’m sure that tomorrow or the next day I’ll have to listen to whatever they plan to replace it with. It’d be nice if that was gravel and a few scattered bushes or trees, but with my luck, it’ll be grass so I have to hear them mowing every week. Mowers aren’t nearly as annoying as blowers, though.

Jackie pulled her SUV out of her carport so it wouldn’t get damaged along the way. She’s probably already sorry they moved in. They’ve definitely got money, whoever they are.

But what’s next, a new paint job? New roof? Just wondering when they’re going to settle down, not that it’ll matter much since someone else will just take over the landscaping/project frenzy.

At least I will always have my peaceful nights. The only annoyance in the evenings is across the street. As in across from the front. She has an unbelievable amount of company, half of which drive loud vehicles, and loves to slam doors while they’re coming and going.

The only sound I hear right now are those small planes that love to circle above every now and then. I can’t tell, though, if it’s the same plane circling around, or a series of planes crossing overhead.

Last night Andy drove me somewhere in my dreams and then Adonis did as well. Then I was doing something (a writing project?) and was thrilled at how it allowed me to recall a couple of things from the past I had forgotten about. One of those things may’ve been a dress I had years ago. I was psyched at the thought of all the hidden memories I might be able to uncover.

Tammy and the girls went to my parents’ graves (even though they’re “absent”) and I’m like WTF? After acknowledging how horrible they were? It’s like they can’t make up their minds about them.

The mailman came to the door and had me sign for a brown envelope. But just as I was about to sign for it, I realized that while the address was correct, the name wasn’t. Knowing the woman on the corner is Jackie, I thought she might be the Jacques H it was addressed to, and had the mailman see if she knew anything about it. She didn’t. So I then signed for the package and opened it to find a bunch of blue pills in blistered packets. I figured they were either sex or diet pills. Aly suggested I Google the name (duh, why didn’t I think of that?), and yup, Aurogra is for those who can’t get it up.

I caught Bob and Virginia on their way out and asked if they knew the person, but they didn’t. So then I looked in the directory and found a Margaret H on Cayes Cove, just across from our street, and ran them over. The woman that lives there, however, said no one named Jacques lived there.

So somebody out there won’t be getting it on tonight since I’m stuck with the tools to make that possible. Maybe it’s a good thing I couldn’t find their rightful owner as they may’ve been rather embarrassed, LOL. The only problem is that I don’t know if returning them is an option due to the way they were packaged and they can’t legally resell them anyway. I can tell that they came from overseas but not what country. The writing is probably Thai, Indian or Urdu. So… no hard-on for Mr. H. Sorry!

A different old lady got out of a large red car that could almost pass for a mini SUV at the house that sold. She had long gray hair in a ponytail. I later saw the short-haired lady fetching the mail. Wouldn’t it be nice if lesbians moved in there? We couldn’t get that lucky, though. I’m sure the less-than-quiet man of the house will appear soon enough.

Right after I was saying how dead and quiet it was here yesterday, moving trucks showed up for about 2.5 hours, along with Miss Shorthair’s car and a couple of other vehicles from which I saw a younger woman unloading some stuff. The fact that they could afford to have all that remodeling done for a week or two, and then move in two moving trucks, each about 15 to 20 feet long, tells me they have money. And a lot of shit.

Yesterday Tom and I went for a walk around the park and it was just gorgeous. The weather and temperature were perfect. Sure was a lot of noise coming from outside the park, though… barking dogs, basketballs bouncing, etc.

Fitbit tried to tell me my HR reached 171 during that walk. No way. It probably got up to around 140 but more than likely it was 130 because I was only walking. I never ran at all. Tom couldn’t keep up with me if I did, LOL.

We grabbed a pink filter for my Keurig on Amazon for the cups that it won’t accept. I also grabbed another miniature animal for my collection… an Australian Shepherd. My white poodle should arrive today. Sometime I’ll make a list of all the pieces that are in my collection. There are a few fairies, but most of them are animals.

On the agenda for today, besides my online work, will be blogging, taking another Dutch lesson, and doing dishes and laundry.

Last night I dreamed that someone put a large snake in my bed to try to scare me, but it didn’t work. Not afraid of snakes.

Then I dreamed that I was part of a chorus somewhere. Everyone appeared to be in high school but me. As we were all singing while standing on these little bleachers, one woman known to be a bit of a bitch but that wasn’t the music teacher, was gazing at us through a pair of binoculars from a distance, though I’m not sure if we were indoors or outdoors.

I later saw her pull aside a small boyish-looking girl with very short dark hair and poopy brown eyes. This girl was very shy and insecure and not well-liked it all. She was about 16 but looked 10. The woman accused her of not singing but simply moving her lips instead. “You don’t even know the words, do you?” she asked the girl who shyly looked downward with a guilty expression. The woman demanded that she sing. When the girl remained quiet she said, “Why join a chorus if you’re just going to lip-sync?”

The girl then walked away and I overheard a woman tell the bitchy one that she probably didn’t have the voice to sing with or the mentality to learn and memorize the lyrics.

Lisa is down in Florida now. Tammy posted a picture of the two of them at the beach. I wasn’t sure whether or not I should “like” it, comment, or just ignore it. I chose to just ignore it in the end. Without knowing how Lisa feels about me and whether or not she is anything like she was 5 years ago (she may be sober now yet may still have mental issues), I can’t possibly know if contacting her would be a good idea or not. Again, the last thing I want to do is reach out to her, have it backfire on me and get caught up in the family drama all over again. I will NOT play the ‘he said, she said’ bullshit game again! I swear if that ever EVER happens again I will be forever done with them. I just can’t go down that road again. Just like I would rather be friendless than have nothing but assholes for friends, I would rather not have anything to do with family than for us to be bickering all the time. Life isn’t worth it. I will always choose peace over problems.

She’s still not on Tammy’s friend list, but she is now on Sarah’s.

I love it when I read a follower’s blog that starts off saying, “I don’t have much to write about,” and then it ends up being 2500 words. I hate reading long entries. No patience. I just skim those or ignore them altogether.

A couple of cars were at the house that sold yesterday, but surprisingly it’s been incredibly quiet today and I haven’t seen anyone over there. The woman that I saw was maybe about 65. A younger woman in another car was also there. I’m guessing that was the daughter helping out.

It’s a gorgeous day out today and I’m looking forward to going out for a walk with Tom after he gets home from work. I worked out on the Bowflex earlier. I do that every other day.

Last night I dreamed I passed by Bob and Virginia on my way to get the mail. They were eating steaks and Bob offered me a few bites. I accepted and found it to be the best steak I’d ever tasted. He said he got a gun and I looked at him all confused. Then he said he killed the cow from which the meat came because he was tired of all the tough meat in the grocery stores, LOL.

Later…

Sure enough, the peace ended at 2:30. Worried there’s going to be activity well into the evening at the house that sold. Two large moving vehicles showed up at around 2:30, making me think there are a lot of people moving in since it is a 3-bedroom. My biggest concern is how much company they’ll have and if they’ll use the garage for the wrong reasons. The garage abuse is my biggest fear. Really, I wish these people would use their garages for what they were intended for!

Mutts shouldn’t be an issue unless it’s left to bark out open doors and windows. That could only be on the side facing Jackie in the corner house. This would make it more likely to be heard mostly in the laundry room, but I’m not really worried about that. I just want all the traffic to die down already and for the garage to be used to park vehicles and store stuff, not some little workshop.

As I learned the hard way, age doesn’t matter. Anybody can be noisy if they’re physically able to create the noise. It would be wonderful if a bunch of couch potatoes were moving in, but I know better than to hope for that. I’m not stupid. Years of a pattern that I question is coincidental or not, tells me what I’m in for. It’s one of the few things that makes me question the possibility of a god. Just how normal is this? Do people really happen to get noisy neighbors that often? It’s too soon to jump the gun and call them noisy for sure, but if they’re like what I usually get next to me or at least within close vicinity of me, they’re going to be noisy. If not with the garage then maybe lots of traffic, but that garage has got to be way too enticing, especially since it’s climate-controlled.

What I don’t get is those who say that God works in mysterious ways. Let’s say there is one even though we can never know for sure. Well, you can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better to justify the unfairness and the atrocities of the world, but where is the mystery, for example, in what my mother did? She abused me. There’s no “mystery” in that.

I still worry at times and think, what if there is a God and my turning against it is only making it hate me more and setting me up for a really shitty afterlife if there is such a thing as that, too? But I can’t live that way. I’m not going to kiss a god’s ass that may not exist. I’m only going to be myself, and if that lands me in an eternal pit of fire, so be it. But yes, that’s a fear of mine and I do realize that anything is possible. Anything. If there is an afterlife, it could be a million times worse than my worst of times here. But I know I shouldn’t worry or assume what I don’t know for sure and that I should just be myself.

If there is a god, I don’t like him. I don’t like him for what he has allowed to be done to me and I don’t like him for what he has allowed to be done the countless others in the world. I could go through life pretending otherwise for no reason at all, or I could just be myself and allow myself to feel what I feel. After all, if there was a god and he was so against us having any ill feelings toward him, then he could have created us not to be able to feel those feelings. Correct?

Meanwhile, there is no “mystery” in things. We may not know why they happen, but I don’t see the mystery, for example, in what the sickos in Arizona did to me. The only mystery is why any possible god allowed it to be done to me. To say he works in mysterious ways sounds like a lame excuse to excuse his cruelty in his unfairness. I know what happened to me. There’s absolutely no mystery there at all.

Noticed a new sleep low for my HR last night when I logged into my Fitbit account. It hit down at 65. My typical sleep HR seems to be 68 to 73. My resting HR when I’m awake is 85 to 95. Working out can range from 120 to 140.

Where I’m leaning toward tachycardia, Tom is leaning toward bradycardia. He’s gotten down as low as 45 in his sleep and the 80s is considered “booming” for him.

Our research shows that neither one of us is in danger. He has no symptoms, although my rapid pulse can be uncomfortable at times, sprinkled with a little terror when you give me too much thyroid hormone. As much as I would love to have those perfect numbers, a perfect thyroid score for me means I could hit 130 just sitting on my ass. No fun feeling like you’re having a heart attack.

A few days ago I started retaining water as if my period was right around the corner, even though it’s not due until the 15th. I asked Tammy if that, along with my last period being late and short-lived was consistent with perimenopause and she said yes. I owe her a translation if she finds a mysterious letter somewhere in one of my languages in exchange for the medical advice, LOL.

I went out walking earlier and chatted with Bob who is trimming by the back corner. Kudos to him for having the guts to work with the bees and spiders that are coming to life a little too fast. He thanked me for the wind chime and asked about the cruise.

He didn’t know anything more than I know about the house that sold, but what I do know is that they’re annoying me with their remodeling racket. I just hope it’s not the owners doing the remodeling. Really, why can’t we just get an indoorsy old couple? People speak of too many couch potatoes in the world as part of what’s leading to the national obesity crisis. Send them here! I want all the potatoes… Couch potatoes, chair potatoes, lounge potatoes, rocking chair potatoes… I want ‘em all. Instead, I keep getting neighbors who are anything but lazy and who love the outdoors as much as I love chocolate. Then again, four of the houses in my immediate surroundings haven’t been a problem at all.

The dream people tried to blow me up last night. Yeah, in Dreamland I was held hostage in a large elevator somewhere with about a dozen other people. They threatened to bomb us if we dared leave the elevator, but as soon as the doors popped open I ran scared. Someone cried out my name in fear and desperation, but instead of looking behind me or turning back, I ran even faster in case they made good on their threats. Sure enough, I heard a loud explosion behind me. Amazingly, though, no one was hurt.

Later…

Just grabbed the mail and said hello to both Bob and Virginia who are sitting out in front of their place reading papers. It’s beautiful out now and I have the doors and bedroom window open.

Every now and then curiosity draws me to Doc C’s page to see what interesting travel photos she may’ve posted and what she’s looking like these days. So I did just that last night and found she’d changed her name to Lara S. Lara S? LOL. Lara’s her middle name, but S? Also, her account is now almost all private. Hmm… has somebody been getting their stalk on? Someone must’ve pestered her for her to literally change her account to a fake name and hide her shit.

I’m tempted to send her the rest of the story I didn’t finish sending her just to see if she blocks me or not. I mean, it might answer my question as to whether or not she got my messages. She might’ve gotten them but never noticed them in her ‘other’ box if they landed there. Hard to believe one as smart and as observant as a doctor would miss that, but hell, I had to be the one to figure out that the root of my anxiety was/is perimenopause. So maybe sending a few chapters at a time will tell me for she’d certainly block me sooner or later and I’m genuinely curious. Then again, maybe she liked getting my messages and would be interested in the story, yet still has her reasons for not replying.

I like how Facebook added reactions to posts. Now you can be sad, angry, laugh, love it or be surprised.

So I get up, check my Facebook feed, and there are a couple of posts by my nieces in remembrance of my dear old enabling dad. Not a thrilling thing to wake up to.

And then I remembered. He died 4 years ago tomorrow. Or was it today? Honestly, I don’t remember exactly not just because of the brain fog I’ve been experiencing, but because I just don’t care.

Speaking of brain fog… I went down to the clubhouse this morning. They were happy to see me and I kinda missed them, too. :) Anyway, I was telling them that the cruise wasn’t that great, and while I remembered that it was RC, I totally forgot which ship of theirs we were on and it took several seconds for me to recall the name.

Judy led the group and is definitely my favorite instructor. She goes right through the moves without issues.

The dark pickup was already at the house that sold (though if it really sold, why is the ‘for sale’ sign still up?) and I could hear the whirring of a drill as I came in the back door. Couldn’t hear it in here, though I sure have been hearing plenty of landscaping on and off for the last 5 hours. It’s ridiculous. Today is much noisier than yesterday and it’s driving me crazy. I just want to be able to concentrate on the story I began in peace. Or do a language lesson in peace. Or just LIVE in peace.

No water damage workers at the corner house today and I guess they’re done with that. Doesn’t matter, though. Someone else will annoy me with a new problem or project soon enough.

We made a stew in the pressure cooker last night. The potatoes came out good, and while the meat was definitely cooked, it was too tough. What is it with tough meat lately?

Can’t remember much in the way of dreams last night. Something about riding bikes on rural roads and boarding a bus in Michigan.

Got a beautiful journal today like the kind I used to write in by hand before I went all-digital. I’m going to use it for jotting down whatever dreams I can remember upon waking up. I could do it on a simple notepad, but then I thought… why not get something pretty, leave it in the clubhouse library when it’s full when no one’s looking, and laugh at the thought of whoever finds it and gets to go on a real WTF moment? Yeah, I do silly things like that at times. ;)

Even though it may be more expensive, I should probably order my coffee directly from Keurig, so I can be sure to get compatible cups. The coffeemaker arrived yesterday and while I absolutely love it, as high-tech and sophisticated as it is, not all the coffee pods are compatible with it that I got from an Amazon seller. They’re all from the same brand, Crazy Cups, so I don’t know why. The different flavors have different color writing on them, so maybe it’s got something to do with that. I got to sample the Italian Chocolate Cheesecake and Death by Chocolate, but the Bananas Frosted Blasé is giving me a hard time.

The lovely purple coffeemaker came with a sampler pack. Hot chocolate and a few coffees, one being from Starbucks. I also got some iced tea, but all our plastic cups are too tall for it, and it says not to use glass.

I think this rather pricey hair treatment really is helping after all. My hair feels smoother to the touch and Tom says it looks shinier. I just wish it looked less shabby. If it weren’t for the fact that it’s been growing so fast ever since I was put on 75 mcg of levothyroxine and the exciting new straightening brush, I would simply cut it off. But I don’t want to do that for a while. I do want to get a trim, though.

I still don’t know if the house across from us has been sold to someone who’s going to live in it, or if it’s been sold to someone who’s doing a fix and flip on it. Either way, the vehicles coming and going over the weekend (and door slamming) really sucked as I thought – and hoped - that they would at least give me the weekend off. I’m working in the back bedroom now because I don’t want to listen to it for 8 hours, or the workers at the house next door to it fixing the water damage. I just wonder how many more weeks this is going to go on, and how much peace I’ll get in between before someone else has another problem or project going on around here. Plus, Bob’s got to be itching to get outside and grab that hammer and saw. We had a cold snap, but it’s to warm up again.

Tom gathered some food items to experiment with the pressure cooker at Walmart yesterday, and I grabbed a beautiful wind chime, black thigh-high stockings, and a rainbow glitter wand.

Not hearing very good things about cockatiels. They seem to be noisy, from what people say, and I worry about how the dust might affect my lungs. The last thing I want to do is have to return a pet like I did with Simone because I found I couldn’t breathe. I still feel horrible about that, even though there’s no way I could have known. But I still have time to decide. I don’t have to make my decision in a hurry.

Later…

There was one item that Tammy gave me that I found rather disturbing. That was a rock in the shape of a miniature headstone that said something like: No longer by your side but always with you.

This, along with a few other things, is nothing I feel comfortable sharing publicly. The ”headstone” sits in a cabinet under the hutch. Why would she give me something like that if she didn’t believe that she would die relatively soon? I don’t know what to think where her health is concerned. She’s always been a hypochondriac, but clearly she has been suffering. The oxygen tank, all the pills, and many other things aren’t there just for show. She is even entitled to handicapped parking and mentioned something about the nurse bringing up the subject of a motorized wheelchair which was a place she didn’t want to go. So I guess she refused to discuss that much.

At the very end of our visit, she asked if there was anything I wanted to ask her, and while I had no questions (at least none that I felt comfortable asking her) I wondered if she was basically saying it was okay to ask her if she was going to die.

I just don’t get it. Everything I read on fibromyalgia says that it’s not deadly. So what the hell is really going on?

I also wish Tom hadn’t been so quiet and had praised me more to her, but that’s just how he is. He’s very shy and quiet and has not one romantic bone in his body.

While we were there she told me some stories about the girls, and it was hard to tell whether or not she was amused or pissed. I guess they were farting in the grocery store when Tammy went to the next aisle something like that to look for something, and some lady told her that she ought to use the ladies’ room. Then she said something about them taking off and driving manically around some parking lot in a car she had.

Another funny story was Tammy being called to Sarah’s school when she was still in high school. On the way out of school, the two of them were walking side-by-side, and Tammy said, “Your principal is a real asshole. Meanwhile, the guy was right behind them.

She’s already made an enemy at her park, though I don’t know that I would consider her an “enemy,” so much as your typical rude person. They have a wide space of grass running behind their place. This lady was letting her dog piss and shit right outside their storeroom while there was plenty of space for dogs to do their business away from the homes. Tammy, who is much like me in that she doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind, especially when she knows she’s in the right, kindly asks the lady to keep her dog away from their house. Yet she caught her a second time letting her dog piss and shit too close. This time, however, the woman refused to even meet her eyes, let alone say anything. This is so typical and very Western-like too, where a perfectly reasonable request is made of someone and then they take it personally. I guess some people really believe they have a right to do whatever they want. Literally.

I’ve learned that while Tammy may not be broke, I don’t think she has as much money as we do. She didn’t put up much of an argument when I gave her $40, and based on some of the things that they’ve said, she and Mark don’t have much extra.

I don’t know if I’ll do this because I don’t know if it’s worth wasting an extra email address on Twitter just to test Kim, as I may want to use that email address for an account there for other reasons, but I realized a simple way to test if she is still stocking me but just doing it silently. She can’t be too afraid to go to my accounts, because she does it’s a block me and play victim every single time she creates one of her silly fan accounts.

Anyway, if I create an account and call it something like Jodi’s Wins or something like that, I’ll see if she notices it and blocks it. She may not have noticed the account I created in Tom’s name had Aly not followed it. This will tell me if she sees my activity through Aly, or if she’s seeing it directly through me. If she’s following my tweets then she’s probably following my blog as well.

Sarah publicly thanked Becky for being there for her when she got sad. For what, I wonder? Wacky hormones due to early menopause? Not being able to get a man? Never having kids? Something else?

Made a roast yesterday in our new pressure cooker, although we had to add more time than recommended. They suggest 25 minutes for 2 pounds, but we had to cook our 3-pounder for close to an hour. The meat was too tough with less time than that. We also got a chuck roast since there was no eye of the round in stock, and we’re guessing that’s a tougher cut.

In a few hours, we’ll be going to Walmart. We need to finally start paying off our debts, so we won’t get much.

But should we get a cockatiel somewhere down the line? We’re thinking about it. I did a little research on them yesterday. Love how they live a lot longer than rats and how affectionate they’re said to be. Wonder how noisy they are, though.

Thought my worst fear neighbor-wise had come true and that those working on the house were actually the new owners because they were here yesterday, which I didn’t expect. Trust me, you don’t want contractors with garages for neighbors. Early in the morning I saw the same two trucks over there and thought, great, just great. They’re going to always park on the street because they can’t fit in the garage, and also so they can use the garage to work in. But then I remembered Ray bitching about contractors arriving bright and early in the morning on Sundays to prepare to flip the house behind him. Hmm… wonder if that’s what’s going on with this place?

The power chopper arrived yesterday, though there’s not much “power” to it. It’s not an electric chopper or anything. You just place what you want chopped in a little cup below and manually chop it up.

Have a feeling I’m going to have to fight for the set of dolls I won. I remember that; that it’d often be up to me to beg for and work at getting my own damn prizes sent to me. So yes, even winning has its downside. They don’t want to send the prizes; they just want to promote themselves. As they’re doing this, they hope you forget about your wins. I’ve even had to fight for big prizes that took months to receive.

Had a dream I was in the back bedroom of the house we lived in when I was born. I was gazing out the side window, but the view was nothing like it would be in real life. In real life, you’d just see other houses. In the dream, there were many bustling streets.

Then I had a horrible dream about watching a little girl drown. The girl had long blond hair and was 4 or 5 years old. A bunch of people and I were standing around a pool. Some were in the pool, and the nearest swimmer dove down toward her when I shouted that she’d suddenly sunk to the bottom.

I was standing next to her father. Her mother wasn’t around, but I knew he and his wife had a house to which he suddenly drove me. I thought it strange that he didn’t want to stick around to see his kid rescued, or god forbid, drowned. It’s like he wanted to delay knowing the outcome of the ordeal as long as he could. Like the longer he put it off, the longer he could hope for the best. Or delay the inevitable.

At his house, I offered to do their laundry. “Have you ever washed a man’s clothes before?” he asked me, and I knew that what he really meant was whether or not washing his clothes, as well as his wife’s, would make me uncomfortable.

I assured him I was fine with it, but was unable to locate their washer and dryer. He then pulled out a huge metal drawer and said he’d show me how to use it. I guess it was some new way of washing clothes, LOL.

Last night I had a dream that I was eating dinner in a large dining hall in which I seemed to be part of a large group. The dining hall was half full and it really annoyed me that we had to have assigned seats. I went and asked one of the “bosses,” or at least someone I perceived to be of authority, why it was necessary. Her answer was something like, “We’re looking for criminals.”

Then she said, “Stop moving me,” in an irritated tone because I had to lean over somebody to ask her, putting me too close for comfort, though I didn’t seem to be leaning against her.

In another dream, I was in a car with one of two young guys in their 20s driving, I sat in the front passenger seat as Tom sat in back. Eventually, the city gave way to rural roads and we were back out in the country following a wheat-brown grassy road. It was a strange scene in that the rest of the grass everywhere else was very green.

Once back at some type of lodge, I heard the young guys being kind of loud in a community bathroom and I wondered what was going on. Were they doing drugs, were they drunk, were they sick? I dared a quick peek at them and one of them seemed to be doing something in or over the bathtub. Tom threw his hands up behind me in frustration and said, “They’re college kids.”

Tammy did a fine job of scaring the shit out of me in my dreams last night. She was driving us somewhere and we were in a large parking lot. She suddenly took off at 100 MPH because she wanted to make the light at a nearby intersection. I urged her to slow down, saying that no light was worth going so fast for.

I ordered that Keurig coffee maker I said I was going to order. It’s the purple one that’s just under $100. I also got a variety sampler in regular and decaf, plus new air filters for the air cleaners and bedding for the rats.

Tom was going to work today but then I guess they decided not to bother. The extra $200 would have been nice, but so is the extra time to get some things done around here. We want to cook our first meal together in the pressure cooker, and he needs to make room in the front somewhere for the cat/rat bike spinner.

My sister’s fibromyalgia and rheumatoid arthritis are at their worst and she needs a pain patch as well as an oral one. They’re going to be cutting nerves soon, but she still may need a morphine pump because they can’t do anything for the bones and muscles. So she’s understandably not too happy now. Wish there was something I could do to make it all go away!

Worried about my own health when they do a full blood panel on me in May. Not that they’re going to uncover something new that’s wrong, but I fear my cholesterol and thyroid numbers are going to be worse. I “feel” more hypo, but I’d rather that than the OMG intense anxiety the higher doses cause me. No way in hell I’m going to take a chance on a higher dose after finally getting stable again after the hell I went through which typically takes a few months to fully recover from. Especially not while my body’s hormones are changing as I go through perimenopause. I do not want to bring back that anxiety that was so bad it was like literally living in fear. Worst thing I ever felt in my life. And the scariest. But having frizzy hair and never being able to lose weight is far from a crisis. So I’d rather be a little hypo than suffer the horrible terror I went through.

As an “experienced hypo” I can bet my numbers will be worse. My hair is thinning on top by the hairline, the hair feels like a pile of straw, and I’m cold a lot. I know age and peri can also be a factor, but I’m expecting bad numbers.

The so-called wallpaper on that Keurig model is really just a choice in color background. I think I’ll settle for their cheaper model in purple.

When we were talking about our parents, I brought up a horrible memory I have of waking up as a little kid to the sound of my dad beating up on either Larry or Tammy (his belt was his usual weapon of choice) and my mother coming into the room to comfort me while she let her husband do this.

But Tammy looked at me, frowned with confusion and said, “Dad never belted me.”

Could it have been Larry then? Even though Dad was much more passive overall than Mom was, he was the one who got a little more physical when we’d piss him off bad enough, which luckily wasn’t that often. I even remember an instance when I was wide awake and he flew up the stairs to attack one of them. Mom was more of a slap-you-across-the-face kind of person. Not a belt-your-ass kind of person. I swear I also remember seeing my father slap my mom one time. Her piss poor excuse for him later on was the stress put on him by fear of his heart condition.

Great way to deal with it… just smack your wife as if it’s her fault your fucking heart is bad. Yeah, I’m really proud to have been the daughter of Arthur and Dureen O.

Either way, for every one time they got physical with us there were 100 times my mother would verbally or emotionally abuse us.

But it isn’t what they did that’s the main point of this entry. The point is my wondering which memories aren’t really “memories” at all, but perhaps dreams or misconceptions? We don’t form memories as little kids like we do when we’re older. So… how the hell did I know enough Spanish at just age 16 to impress a social worker of mine who came to see me when I was with Anne and Harry? I have no doubt that this memory is real and that this did in fact happen. I remember how she was excitedly telling someone she brought with her that she might have been training how I could even affect the accent.

At 16? I know I started learning ASL when I was 15, but who the hell would have taught me Spanish in an all-white, English-speaking little bedroom town in which anyone who knew other languages probably knew Hebrew or Yiddish? Really thought I didn’t start learning Spanish until I was around 19 or 20. This is because I wasn’t in the public schools long enough to take it there. I had to teach myself.

If there’s one sure memory (or a series of memories) I wish to hell I could delete from my brain it would be the severe anxiety attacks I had. The more I go without incident, since mine was medically induced, the better and more confident I feel, but I still have the awful memories and the fear of it happening again. But if I couldn’t remember then, then I wouldn’t know what to fear.

Looked at the weather. I’d say I’m going to be in for one noisy day, or at least a noisy morning.

Had this dream that I entered a huge building and was totally lost. I just couldn’t find room 350 like I was trying to do for whatever reason. I asked a woman if there was an illustration of the building online that could help me and she said there was.

After dark, I was in a corner room on one of the upper floors of what might have been the same huge building. It was a tiny room with a twin bed and I guess I was staying there. I gazed out the door and into the darkened hallway and I got a little nervous when I saw someone heading down the hall in my direction. I shut the door and held my breath but no one approached the door much less knocked. I was actually worried about it being a fat woman that I was rude to earlier.

Later…

The lady across the street in the gray house has been having more and more company. Last night that loud white truck that comes to visit her regularly left in the middle of the night. There are two vehicles in front lately that I’ve never seen before, and two work trucks plus a car at the house that sold. The corner house is working on her flooding damage, too.

Really wondering when I can have the luxury of going a whole month without having to deal with anybody’s projects around here. Projects, projects, projects! I’m sure the landscaping is next. Then there’s the traffic, or more appropriately, the door slamming. Really wish people could just get what they need out of their vehicles and leave it at that. Or at least leave the damn door open.

I should have known better than to re-add Lori and her cousin Cindy. They noticed me around when I unblocked them. Nothing against either one of them, but they make such pests of themselves! Cindy, who rambles on and on faster than I can respond, wants me to call her. No thanks. Again, why do I get all this attention from people as ugly as them while the Nane’s and Christiane’s out there always have better things to do? I would still rather nice and ugly than hot bitches.

It’s been pouring ever since I got up shortly before 8 PM. Part of me wishes it could always be like this because the wind and rain keep everybody quiet around here. Better yet, I wish it would be too hot for people to be out doing things.

Period was short. It stopped yesterday. But I still have feminine itching and to think that I’ll have to deal with the burning and itching on and off right along with my ear aching on and off, makes me want to scream.

Saying goodbye really is never easy. But that’s exactly what we had to do Sunday night on February 7th. Before our goodbyes, we left the hotel and headed for Tammy’s for an evening of wonderful food and conversation. I’m just not sure how much of it I want to share in public. Certain health issues and other personal issues pertaining to those I’m close to require some degree of privacy. Everybody’s different and so I use my best judgment when it comes to everyone I know.

Mark threw some steaks on the grill and dinner was absolutely delicious. We had baked potatoes and a wonderful side of sautéed mushrooms and onions, plus rolls. We had chocolate pie for dessert, but I barely had room for it by the time we got to that part.

I am amazed at the personal growth of my sister. We all have traits we’ll always have, like me and my mischievous, goofy side, but most of us do – or at least should – mature over the years. My sister may be the same in that she won’t take any shit from anyone, but she’s also really mellowed out and has become a much more positive and supportive person. The old Tammy would have been jealous of anything I might succeed in. This Tammy would be happy for me.

I felt like I’d known Mark forever. He’s a great guy! I’m touched by how happy he was to finally meet me. It was definitely an emotional hello and goodbye for us as well.

He had some fascinating and funny stories to tell. One was about a guy at the retreat he was at for those who have been sober (from alcohol) for decades. The guy was a real shit in his younger, drunken days and did a lot of nasty stuff to his neighbor. He later apologized and made it up to them in ways that were quite touching.

Then he told us a hilarious story about this squirrel that just wouldn’t leave their bird feeder alone no matter what he did.

Didn’t know Tammy was his third wife, though. I knew years ago that he lost his wife Mary to cancer, but when he was explaining to me why he considered August to be a romantic month for him, that’s when that came out. All his marriages were in August and so is Tammy’s birthday.

I was surprised to learn that Nana never wanted the house that was next to the one where I lived for my first 13 years or so. Then what did she want? I’m just surprised because the Hünden was a very headstrong woman with a mind of her own. She wore the pants in her family, and just like my mother had my dad wrapped around her finger, so did Nana when it came to Pa. Pa jumped at her every wish and command. So I wonder why she didn’t want to move there, and where she actually preferred to be, and why she didn’t put her foot down about it. Can’t help but be curious despite the fact that I couldn’t stand her and she’s been dead for 30 years. I guess they got a really good deal on the place or something.

Then it came time for a tearful goodbye laced with lots of hope of them coming to visit us in a couple of years. We’re definitely not going to let another 24 years slip by, that’s for sure!

When I got back Tammy said on Facebook, “Who will help me with my shoes?”

LOL

Later…

OMG, this is so fucking funny! Tom and I once talked about me writing my dreams in story format and turning them into little stories just for fun, to be creative, and get even more writing experience.

I took that little diary from India and started doing just that and writing my dreams as if they actually happened. Then I will tie it up with its ribbon once it’s complete and leave it in one of the bedroom’s built-in drawers for the next owners to get a real WTF moment out of, haha.

The only one I’m going to let in on this is Tammy (Aly’s sense of humor is too dry), but I decided to take it a step further. Hey, if you can’t come up with creative stories, why not creative bullshit, huh? LOL Or at least “creative dreams.” I do have a sensible story idea in the works, but anyway, I created a second Prosebox account a while back so I could see what logged-in members see in my account. No one ever knew I had that account, and I haven’t used it in a while.

But then I got the hilarious idea of writing the dreams as stories and posting them there so I could get a good laugh at all the people I’ve come to know trying to make sense of something I know they’ll never make sense of. Wish I could install my tracker there, but I’m the only one I know of who uses TIP, and am sure they’ll find that an odd coincidence. It’s just that that site has the best tracking. Blogger’s a joke, LiveJournal is dead, and I can’t track at all on my-diary.

I’ll make sure not to post at sporadic hours like I do. I’ll also make sure to make some errors I wouldn’t normally make as much. The profile info differs from mine and there’s much less of it, too. What I came up with for an initial entry goes like this, but this copy is with correct grammar and spelling:

Recognized a trio of folks walking into the multi-story clubhouse behind me when I was sitting outside, and wow. How amazing it is all the people I’ve come to know here! Two guys and a girl. Pretty sure they’re in their 20’s.

I went to clean the bathrooms I was hired to clean and they were weird. I was inside a tiny one and that one, as well as all the other ones, had these sculptures of a human hand. They were life-size, though slender. I still can’t figure out what the fuck they’re for. They’re affixed to the sink counters and will swivel left and right, but not up and down. WTF?

What really scared me was my driving lately. I’ve lost track of how many times it happened but I parked the car by the side of the road, got out and lay down. I’m not sure if I slept or not, passed out or what the deal is, but I got back up even though I felt like I weighed 1000 pounds and hurried back inside the car. I said to myself, “You’ve got to stop sleeping at stop signs!” I was afraid someone would call the police or paramedics. I did manage to get home safely from there so it’s not all bad.

Later…

Got up around 9am on the morning of the 8th. We’d packed most of our stuff the night before and were pretty much ready to go after our showers.

I grabbed a chocolate muffin and coffee from downstairs, and off we went to the airport in Fort Lauderdale.

Returning the Jeep was simple. We just pulled up in front of a line of used rentals and were even told we could leave our trash behind and they’d take care of it.

With time to kill, we ate at Chili’s, a restaurant I’d never been interested in until my sister and nieces got me turned on to quesadillas. I ordered some steak ones. Tom got a burger and fries.

We then left, after Tom worried me for a minute by leaving his boarding pass on the table at the crowded eatery. Fortunately, he realized this right away and no one had been by yet to pick things up.

On the way to Florida, we were in row 5 of first class for both flights, but for the flight to Houston, we were in row 2. We changed planes right away and then we were in row 4 for the remainder of the trip. It felt like that plane would never land! I could only go through my mail, write and read so much.

My favorite flight attendant was definitely this black guy with a great sense of humor. Both of us hated the food, though. It was too spicy. He got pasta and I got shrimp and rice.

Finally back in Sacramento, we found the airport rather dead, which was nice. We just wanted to get the hell out and get home.

I was astounded to learn dogs can fly on planes WITH passengers! I thought they’d have to be in a carrier underneath the plane like the cat I flew to Phoenix was back in the 90s. What if they have to pee or poop?

So we finally got a shuttle driver, deciding to pay a little extra to be the only passengers, rather than go with a group. The guy was eager to tell us all about his fellow employee being pissed off (I guess he was supposed to drive us) and complain about all the foreign drivers and how shitty they drive.

That familiar nervous excitement came over me as we approached the house. There’s always that slight fear that something might be wrong, though the park would have contacted us, yet it felt so good to be back, as much as I hope to escape this state someday.

So Tom turned the water on as I unlocked the door. The only thing “wrong” was that the rats stunk. The reason we couldn’t play back Bob pulling our trash bin in on the cameras we set up or see the rats while we were gone was because fucking Windows did an update as soon as we left. I can operate Alexa from my computer no matter where it is, so I played the rats some music and nature sounds at times. I was just sure to keep the volume down so that those who knew we shouldn’t be home yet wouldn’t think something was wrong. Rats have great hearing anyway.

The next day, Tom had no trouble starting up the caddy.

So 10 days later I am finally caught up on the trip! There is one thing, though, that Tammy and I talked about that was weird as hell. I’ll get to that probably tomorrow.

Tom’s back to cranking out the overtime to finish paying off the trip (regardless of whether we do or don’t get refunded), and I’m still working at winning, too. The higher pay and the way OT is done in this state makes it too hard to pass up. Saturday will be a $200 day.

I’m even going to splurge on a new Keurig coffeemaker probably this weekend. There’s one for $144 that not only lets you add a wallpaper pic, which I thought was cool but has multiple features. It’s their latest model, the 2.0, and I plan to get a variety of coffees, teas and hot chocolates in both regular and decaf.

I’m enjoying the peace until the people around here pick out what instruments of audio torture to inflict upon me.

I did almost as much multitasking in my dreams as in real life. I chased a mouse, dated my shrink, spoke Spanish incorrectly, and got hit on by a US Marshal at the grocery store. At least she was good-looking. ;)

Then someone tried to tell me Nane was really from Arizona, and I was combing through a bathroom in search of something to unclog a drain while Aly took a bath. Not likely. She prefers showers.

The last dream was strange as hell. I was on the floor by a door. I poked it with my index finger and a picture of a rat suddenly appeared. In a nearby room, I heard the booming voice of a guy I knew Tammy to currently be with, and it wasn’t Mark. It was someone I definitely didn’t like and that didn’t know I was there. I wanted to get up and walk away, but couldn’t. So I began to crawl instead, only I could barely move. It was as if I was drugged or something.

I got curious and looked up my shrink. Can’t find much on her at all, but I’m kind of surprised she has a 1.5 rating. I gave her a 5 on Yelp, but later thought about it and realized I should probably have given her a 4. She’s a fantastic lady. Best shrink I ever had. But she interrupts and changes subjects a lot. I could edit the rating, but I won’t.

How is it that therapy and shrink sessions are now down to just 20 minutes, though? It used to be 50 minutes.

This period is a bit heavier than the last due to being later. I’m surprised I haven’t had to take anything for the cramps given how mild they’ve been. Or have I just gotten that much tougher with pain? I’m using it as a wonderfully shitty excuse not to work out and to finally catch up on the trip. If I wait much longer, my notes will no longer make sense to me.

Tammy cooked a scrumptious dinner on Saturday night containing a roast, potatoes, rolls and a few dessert choices that were wonderful. She even gave me a cherry coffee cake to take back to the hotel. The only problem was that the meat was so bloody and tough I could barely eat it. Tom ate a lot of it because he didn’t want Tammy to feel bad which worried me at first because I thought it was dangerous. A part of me wanted to say, “Screw Tammy’s feelings. Stop eating that fucking meat!” LOL

She read the eulogy she read at Mom’s funeral. When she was pulling it out from a chest at the foot of the bed, I looked at a picture of her and Dad in the 80s in the kitchen of our Massachusetts house. How time flies. What shocked me was how thin she was! I knew she wasn’t as big as she is now – damn is she huge – but I honestly didn’t think she was that thin since she was in her teens.

I was just pissed that she shared some of the pics we took on Facebook and annoyed with Norma for ignoring my request to not “like” or comment on it so Andy and his family wouldn’t see them. I figured Tammy would be eager to share them, though. I mean what did I expect? I hate Facebook the most for not allowing US to choose who sees what.

She said Larry didn’t want to write a eulogy. Yeah, I can’t picture him doing something like that as little as we were in each other’s lives and as much as we really didn’t know each other very well. I would never have written one either because nothing I could say would be appropriate. There are places to say what I really feel, and there are places to say what others expect and want to hear, and well, whenever I can get out of having to say things I don’t feel or believe in my heart, I do. I’d say I was a mass murderer for a million bucks, but I won’t say what I don’t feel is true about my mother just to put smiles on people’s faces.

Also, I’m not the believer in God and the afterlife that most people are. Again, no offense to anyone, but I believe the belief in that kind of thing is more of a dire need to believe in it. Not saying their beliefs might not be correct, though. That’s why I’m more agnostic than atheist; because I don’t know if these things exist. It’s hard to believe in someone I’ve never seen or met, and the possibility of an afterlife seems scientifically impossible. We need eyes to see, ears to hear, and a brain to have awareness. If that all dies, then how can we go on?

Tammy says that our husbands being so wonderful is a sign God exists. Ah, but people who abuse children is just as much of a sign that He doesn’t, isn’t it? So that’s why I’m undecided; too many signs saying there could be one, and just as many, if not more, saying there’s no sign there could be one at all. Then again, if you want to see a sign of something bad enough, you’ll see it.

I’ve never personally sensed our parents, but she believes Dad’s spirit influenced his dog to lick her tears away when she came home crying after his funeral. This was not typical behavior of Max, she said. Do I think he took over his dog to soothe her in her grief? Probably not, but I also realize that I don’t know what’s typical of Max and I didn’t have the experience firsthand. Maybe I’d think differently if I had. Also, had it not been for my own personal experience with dream premonitions and a few other things, I’d probably be saying the same thing about that… that it was just a trick of the mind, wishful thinking, whatever. But I can assure you without a shred of doubt… we exist. A few dream premonitions and I’d call it an odd coincidence. But dozens and dozens? I don’t think so! The only thing I don’t know is why I haven’t had many in the last 5 years or so, but that’s a good thing as most of them were negative.

Regardless of whether or not I believe the words of the eulogy or think Mother even deserved that much, it was beautifully written.

I was surprised to learn Dad’s death wasn’t quite what I thought it was. I thought his heart just slowed down till it gave out, but according to Tammy, some doctor fucked up by trying to get him decongested. I guess there was a lot of fluid in his lungs and trying to remove it was what killed him. His body was just too weak to handle it.

Later…

If I remember correctly, our second day in Florida was warmer, but then it was windy and cool again.

Tom decided that Florida drivers in general are worse than here, haha. Here they annoy you by creeping (due to stiff speeding fines?), but in Florida, they were very erratic with their driving. They’d pass solid lanes and do various things they don’t typically do here. I can only guess it’s because if things are cheaper there, then the fines probably are, too.

I don’t remember exactly when it was, but we went over a bridge that goes over water and Tammy told me, “See those buildings in the distance over there.”

I said I could. Turns out that’s where mom and dad lived on Nettle’s Island. I visited them there twice, once in December of 1989 and once in January of 1990.

Anyway, here’s more of the stuff we got while we were there. One of the days we were there, Tammy took us out for some fun shopping (and didn’t drive poorly on the way there). First we went to a store that was nice. A large garden statue of a red fox caught my eye. It was the only one there. It’s about a foot high, maybe a little more, and very realistically done. I decided to keep it indoors. It sits in the corner on our counter.

The next store she took us to was awesome. It was called Nautical but Nice. There we treated her to a parrot figurine. It’s glossy and dark red. The one I picked out for myself has a matte finish and is a bit more colorful with red, yellow and blue.

I got blue and clear crystals hanging on a ball chain, which now hangs from our ceiling fan/light.

Got a beautiful hanging mermaid with royal blue glitter from the waist down. Her tag said “Ana.” She has dark hair and eyes and wears a “diamond” ring on both hands.

Lastly, I got a 3D postcard of seahorses. Not to mail to anyone, but to keep for myself, as it’s so cool looking. Royal Fucktards must’ve tossed the ones I got earlier because no one’s told me they got them as of yet and they should have by now.

I didn’t get any shirts at this store, but Tom did.

We also got stuff at Walmart, but most of it was stuff we needed. Like an extra suitcase so Tammy didn’t have to ship the fox home to us. We took it on the plane since you’re allowed two things per person. So that, along with the carry-on and my handbag, went with us. The other two purple suitcases always get checked. The new suitcase has a hard case and is cute with light and dark zigzag stripes. It’s got 4 wheels instead of 2, which makes navigating easier. We put most of the delicate items in it since there was room around the fox, and this helped cushion it, too.

Tom got shirts and what he says is the most comfortable robe he’s ever had that was only $9. It’s a blue plaid flannel robe. He then ditched the white terrycloth one my parents sent him many years ago.

I got a purple top with sequins to go with my black leggings, 4 pairs of neon-colored shorts, and a doll – well, they call it a figure – from The Walking Dead. Never saw the show as it’s not really my kind of show, but I loved the 10” realistic black woman wielding a sword and just had to have her. I also got a couple of 6” female wrestlers.

From the hotel gift shop, we got a small flamingo spinner that hangs and a bigger one with a cat riding a bike with rainbow-colored wheels that you spike into the ground. It even has a cute mouse in its basket. Tom just needs to find time to make room for it in front.

I also got a roll-on perfume and a pink hoodie. It’s a size medium and it fits well.

Tammy gave us a wooden sign saying “Relax” with a little turtle on it. That’s hanging out front. She also gave us a cute frog figurine, and when Mark came back he gave Tom a keychain and me a cute little stuffed turtle that hangs from my handbag.

What else… Tammy stopped at a Publix grocery store for prescriptions along the way and a few household items. She showed me her weekly pillbox and OMG! She could open her own pharmacy with all the shit she has to take. It’s sad. Really sad. I saw the oxygen thing she has to sleep with, too.

I’m also worried about Aly’s health. She’s in the ER with problems I’m not sure she’d want me mentioning in public, so I’ll just leave it at that and hope for the best.

Not gonna finish the story today after all, but I’m really close now. Just another day or two. :)