LOL, Seashell apologized for calling me an asshole and said she wouldn’t stop reading me cuz I’m her favorite writer and person on Prosebox. Aw. I told her, “I’ve been called worse than that, you Hünden.”

I knew she knew what that meant, and she responded with a “fist bump.”

At about 6:50 yesterday morning I heard a loud vehicle pull up by the front of the house. I peered through the blinds and said to myself, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. After listening to a week of them cleaning up after water damage in back, you mean now I have to listen to them beat out a new roof in front?”

But they let me sleep, and that’s more important than how crazy they drive me when I’m awake.

Although I haven’t had any anxiety while awake, the warmer temps had me a bit nervous about going to sleep. When I can keep the house at 68°, I’m okay. But the warmer it gets, the harder it is to keep it cool. In the summers I keep the AC at 75° when I’m active and 78° when I’m not. Yet if I get overheated in my sleep, that in conjunction with menopause can cause me to wake up with a racy heart. This started to happen today, but I was getting up then anyway. According to Fitbit, however, my HR never got over 94 upon waking up. Usually, it spikes into the triple digits at that time and usually doesn’t go under 68 when I’m in my deepest sleep.

Sometimes I still have to remind myself that this isn’t Oregon or Massachusetts. Spring really does slowly but surely begin in early February and sometimes even late January. It got up to 74° in here today. It’s going to be a little warmer tomorrow and then it’s going to drop into the 60s while we have a couple of days of rain.

The pressure cooker I won arrived today, but not the power chopper. Tom is all excited about it. We’re thinking we may try a roast first. Tammy would LOVE this thing! It’s huge and definitely the Rolls Royce of pressure cookers. You can even do canning with it. Why do they call it canning when it’s really “jarring,” anyway?

On the second day after the cruise, we went over to Tammy’s and did a load of laundry (or was that the third day?). She gave me a gorgeous necklace with beads of turquoise, lime, and deep purple. I sampled some of her perfume, too. I’ve got lots for her to try when she visits me!

I was surprised the expert here couldn’t figure out Tammy’s Windows problem (we’re not as familiar with Windows anymore, but if he had more time with it he probably could have). There’s only been one computer problem that I was able to figure out that we were stumped on, and that was over a decade ago. I was oh, so proud of myself, too, LOL. But he’s the one who figures out the rest of them.

With the laundry in the washer, we were then off to the beach where I had a blast running along the shore like a kid, haha. I’m sure Tammy got a kick out of it. The waves were a lot like in Hawaii. We took pics of the ocean, of each other, and I ran through the frothy waves squealing like it was the first time I’d ever seen the ocean. Well, when you spend so many years living 100 miles inland, it can do that to you! Didn’t mean to make it look like I’d peed my pants, though. Yeah, I underestimated some of those waves that crashed upon the shore. :)

I got some adorable shots of an old man feeding a squirrel. It was so cute!

Later…

So Jodi Arias was in the news again. I was wondering what took her so long. I also wonder what the media and country’s obsession is with her after 9 months since her conviction. As someone else said, there are tons of other killers out there. So then why focus on this one?

I guess she called one of the corrections officers a vulgar name for denying her request for a haircut. Cockblocker. That’s a new one. Pretty sure I haven’t heard that one yet, but hey, if I was looking at life I might not care who I spoke my mind to either. She lost her visitation rights for a while, though, so even lifers have something to lose unless no one visits them. She may be imprisoned, but I wonder why they would deny her request for a haircut of all things.

What I wonder most of all is why so many strangers out there are sending her books, sweatshirts, and God only knows what else. This is someone who’s 100% guilty of murder. Meanwhile, I was framed by a corrupt cop for making a legit complaint against his welfare bum buddies and I didn’t get shit from strangers but a bunch of sympathy since, even if I’d been just as guilty as Jodi, half a year for even the most vicious of letters is ludicrous. But Arizona and Texas are like that.

This brings me to a certain piece of shit named Bill. Tammy says he’s dying, but haven’t we heard that before two or three times? I’ll believe it when I hear someone actually say that the little cock’s dead. Tom said I should be glad it’s stringing out like this because then he gets to suffer more. Ah, but if it wasn’t for the love and respect of my dear sweet, beautiful nieces, I would make him suffer a lot more than any disease could make him suffer. Normally I am as harmless as can be and under normal circumstances, most people could beat my ass to the next galaxy and beyond. But once I am utterly livid and furious as hell, my lack of height and gender pretty much takes a back seat and no longer matters for much.

When I heard one too many stories of his abuse against my sister and niece, I had a choice. I could either abide by the law or I could speak my mind. I chose to speak my mind. Fuck with most people’s family, and believe me, they’re not going to give a shit about any laws. If they have to break it to defend those they love, they usually will.

I broke the law. I get that. He didn’t know any more than I knew about the default warrant and that he was essentially opening the door for the sickos and corruptos to get at me. I get that too. But I still don’t get how he found out where I was. My only guess is that he got the info from mom who got it from my in-laws, and we all know good and well that my mother wouldn’t have hesitated to throw her own daughter under the bus. And yes, my in-laws would be dumb enough to give that information up to whoever, even though I asked them not to tell anybody where we had gone. But Marjorie did whatever the fuck she wanted to and so did Mary. That’s just how they were.

He didn’t make me write that letter and he didn’t make me make that phone call to him. He’s also not responsible for those who were after me. I get these things, too. But come on. Did he really think that I was going to travel 3000 miles just to beat his ass? It’s the spite that really burns me up and pisses the shit out of me. He was never afraid of me. I clearly remember us talking one day when I was at the Salem house about self-defense and fighting and him saying that if he punched me hard enough I’d go down. Then why call the cops if he had nothing to fear?

Then again, maybe he truly was scared. Bullies like that who pretend to be all macho and tough are often pussies who are just putting on a show. Could I have taken him? Again, under ordinary circumstances like just wrestling around for shits and giggles, probably not. But as much as I hate his fucking guts now? You bet! He could go back to being young and healthy and I would still flip his ass like a pancake! He smacked Lisa around. He brainwashed my sister into thinking she was worthless and that he was somehow worthy of her defense. And then he opened the lion’s cage door and pointed a finger in my direction.

If I’d kept my mouth shut and never spoken out about the welfare bums, their loud music, their fights, their late-night parties, their wild kids, their vandalism, the people that weren’t allowed to live there per C8’s rules, their trash… and if I’d kept my mouth shut to Bill, I never would have gone to jail and suffered the loss of my freedom and thousands of dollars on top of immense mental anguish. But do I regret being myself, expressing myself, and telling it like it was? Absolutely not. You fuck with my family and you’ve got a big problem.

Me.

Tom left for work a little while ago, and I am hoping to continue to remain anxiety-free. Sometimes it almost feels like those butterflies in my gut are about to start fluttering.

Later…

Guess who got a period 9 days late? Something I have definite mixed emotions about.

We made it to 7:07 before the daily noise started instead of 6:50 today. Someone was hammering for a few seconds. I thought someone was knocking on the back door at first. But who was it? It totally screams Bob, but his garage door is shut. Would I hear it in here if he were in there hammering with the garage door shut? And why would he be in there hammering at just 46°? Is the guy really that bored?

Oh, to have quiet neighbors. It’ll never happen, though. Never happen.

I’m glad to know my sister loves the wind chime I picked out for her in Cozumel. You can think you know what someone will like and you can take your best guess, but you can never know for sure till they receive it. It does sound cool, like glass tinkling.

Because I didn’t do a great job with taking notes I can’t remember what things happened on what days, but I am sure that it was the second day, the 5th, that I finally got to see and hug Becky when we all met up at the Flamingo diner. She is just as big and almost as tall as her sister; only she leaves her hair curly and doesn’t bother with makeup much because of her eye problems. I also wouldn’t say she’s ugly now that I’ve seen her in person. Just plain. Both of them are taller than Tammy, with Sarah being the tallest. Becky smelled wonderful, too. She told me she was wearing White Diamonds, and I’m definitely going to get some for myself some time.

Sarah was telling me that when they were in Hawaii this woman kept staring at her and Becky. Finally, she asked why and the woman said she was just amazed because she’d never seen twins before. LOL, they do look very similar, though they are a few years apart.

Becky cracked us up, saying it must be senior night since she and Sarah were the only young ones there. Since most of the patrons were behind me, I turned and scanned the room. She was right. I didn’t see anyone appearing to be under 50.

The food was fantastic. They got an appetizer of quesadillas to share which I’ve never had before and loved their chicken ones. I had to control how much I ate, though, so I would have room for dinner even if that room was limited. It was great, too. I got the Fisherman’s Platter, which consisted of clams, cod and shrimp. I kept laughing at Tammy along the way, who accidentally dipped her ring in her mashed potatoes more than once. ;)

Tammy began to question them about a stalker who was supposedly in their building, and Sarah got just as irritated with her as she did a few times the previous day, firmly assuring Tammy that all was well. Tammy said something like, “Well, you know what to do if it’s not. I’m just being a mother.”

A creepy stalker stalking and creeping out one as tall and wide as Sarah?

I felt an unexpected, but instant bond seeing the girls. Just a sense of love and pride that was like, wow! They both have become very strong, intelligent and independent young women. Didn’t think I would feel such a strong connection since we really don’t know each other from a can of paint. Yes, that’s how long it’s been. Yet there it was, making me feel both wonderful and guilty at the same time for being the absentee aunt that I was for so many years. Ok, this is a piss poor excuse, but you know how we sometimes not only feel the need to remove ourselves from a particular person, but also those they’re connected to? Well, I didn’t just remove myself from my parents that decade that I didn’t contact them (other than to send them that postcard from Puerto Rico, which still makes me giggle when I think of it), but I also removed myself from the rest of the family. The problem, as usual, was mostly our mother. But my brother, who swore that he wasn’t going to get involved when he contacted me in the 90s after dumping me for his own silent decade, did just the opposite. He stuck his nose in every crack and crevice of the family’s life and drama that he could. Regardless, I could probably forgive the guy, though, for being the ass that he could be at times. My father… maybe, but probably not. My mother… definitely not. I’m just not as big as most folks on the whole forgiveness thing and all that.

Nonetheless, I “wiped the slate clean” and stopped talking to all family members as well as some friends, though not all at once. I still feel terrible for most of it, though I’m sure Tammy knows and understands how much our mother loved to cause trouble and pit family against family. I was/am ashamed and disgusted by her as well as embarrassed for her. I felt like I was in high school all over again. “Cliques” and getting people to turn against others… that’s the kind of shit you do as kids. For a mother to pit her own kids against each other is just appalling.

But I don’t want to think of her right now. My cramps are picking up, and well, it only deepens my hatred of her, dead or not, and my hatred of God, fictitious or not.