So I couldn’t resist texting Aly yesterday in regards to her second to last Twitter handle just to surprise her, and she texted back saying I hate her, she gets that, she’s left me alone, please leave her alone, etc. 

So then I noticed that today it was changed again and I tweeted to her from my latest account before deactivating it. She then goes and does a public blog on Prosebox about it for me. LOL 

She’s definitely reading me, though. She’s gotta be just based on some things she said like how I said she was a closed chapter in my life. I stopped writing on my-diary, which is probably where they’re going as it’s easier to hide there. Now if they want to read me they’ll either have to show themselves or go through the hassles of disabling cookies. 

In her entry to me, she admits to being deceptive as hell to me in the end, and while a part of her will miss me, she doesn’t want our friendship back because I hurt her so badly for so long in the end, and I’m still racking my brains trying to figure that one out. I honestly don’t get what it is I said that was supposedly so mean and hurtful, but crazy is crazy. Crazy has no logic. And again, I’m not her type. 

But I do need to move on and make her the closed chapter that she is. I could never trust her again, and to continue picking on her would make me no better than her, Kim, Molly and Kathy when they’d troll each other and God knows who else. 

Later… 

Aly’s tweets are so ridiculous they’re too funny not to read. Over 22K steps? LOL, yeah, if you cheat maybe. Like by patting your cat an awful lot. 

She said she “deleted her Prosebox account to sever ties.” 

What ties? 

Every time she and Kim would create one of their many accounts there we’d block each other. So I don’t know what “ties” the delusional nutjob thought she was severing. Fine, though. She wasn’t wanted there to begin with. The hypochondriac would just bitch about all her problems. She’s everything she accuses others of being… negative and spiteful, etc. 

She tweets: I have severed all ties w/you that I can think of and want nothing to do with you. You will no longer see your name written by me. The end. 

No, but you sure make it obvious enough when you’re tweeting to/about me, don’t you? 

Then after declaring “the end,” the subhuman piece of shit tweets: Well, shoot. I should have included in that chain of tweets that I don't have a proxy, I don't visit blogger, and I prefer Fetlife to M-D. 

So which is it? The end or not? She had to have read at least some of my stuff. How else would she know about some of the things she mentioned that I did in fact write about? I supposed it’s possible someone else read it and filled her in, but we’ll see if this is “the end” or not. 

Still going back and forth in my mind as to whether or not I want to use Twitter to document the highlights vs. Word. I can always change the name/link so the trolls can’t find me. 

Or can they? The problem is that Twitter likes to recommend people we’ve been connected to in the past, and their associates, even from different accounts and email addies. Twitter obviously keeps track of individual devices and not accounts. If I signed up with a totally different device, that may stop me from being recommended to people I’d rather hide from. Eh, I know how to block people if I do decide to go back and I end up pestered by anyone. Letting others stop me from doing what I want to do is basically letting them control me, and I’m not going to give them that privilege. Right now I have no active accounts there. 

From here on out I have no desire to follow their tweets, blogs or anything else they could write whether it mentions me or not. No idea if they’re still reading me on Prosebox or Blogger, but you know what? I really don’t care, as I have nothing to hide. 

Gotta admit it was kinda funny seeing Kim run like a little scaredy-cat from Twitter when I never had any intentions of contacting her. My beef was with Aly this time, not her. But then Kim has always loved to play the victim, hasn’t she? 

Had a bit of a scare last night. The last of the laundry was finishing up in the washer as I was juicing some beet and carrot juice. As I did so, I heard this loud chirping. My first thought was that it was the juicer so I turned it off. But I continued to hear the chirping and then a semi-sexy voice talking about smoke in the hall. 

I then turned around and looked across the hall and into the laundry room to find it very smoky. I ran and got Tom up thinking something was on fire in there. Turns out something burned up in our washer which was only 6 years old, but probably defected from the get-go. Major piece of shit as far as going off balance was concerned. It was like the basket was really loose or something. The dryer is much older but works fine, so we’re only going to replace the washer now. We were going to get a new set next spring but decided on a washer now rather than using the little portable till we got a set next year. We’re going to hopefully have a $700 front-loading LG delivered from Lowe’s Tuesday afternoon after my endo appointment. 

Last night I dreamed I was sound asleep somewhere and in my subconscious, I heard the sound of a flute every now and then. Finally, I awoke to find the sound was coming from the lips of a woman who was trying to wake me up. She could make the sound of a flute playing all with just her lips. 

I got out of the twin bed or cot I was on and mumbled something about being fat as I headed for the bathroom. 

She agreed I was fat, and I said I had Hashimoto’s, pointing out that there was nothing I could do about it. 

The “bathroom” was small and square and had brown walls. Only a toilet and a tiny sink were in it. I slid my hand along the wall in search of the light switch. After I peed, I looked in the mirror at my tired-looking face and thought of how I was to meet my sister and nieces for dinner that evening. Not feeling up to applying makeup, I thought I’d settle for just lipstick instead. 

But then the room became rectangular and Nane had me face down as she was performing this strange procedure on my back. 

Then we were running along a beach or some lake. Several people were out and about and dressed kind of funny. One little black girl wore a short dress that seemed inappropriate for both the place and the weather. 

Nane and I were racing to this lodge or cottage when I realized that while the other people had diverted my attention, she’d dashed in front of me. I ran into the house or cottage or whatever it really was, up some stairs, and into a room. As soon as I flung the door open I found her lying on the floor laughing her ass off at having beat me to the room.