Lately, I’ve been working on “de-accenting” myself. 26 years out of New England has reduced my accent somewhat. This much is obvious when I listen to Tammy and compare her accent with my own. She definitely sounds more Northeastern to me. I’ve been doing some exercises and making a conscious effort to reduce my accent to a simple, generic American accent so I’m easier to understand not just for people but when using speech-to-text. I personally don’t care for my accent anyway. I’ve heard worse but mine is ugly enough in some ways.

It would be nice if foreign doctors also took the time to do these exercises which are simple enough to find on YouTube so we natives can understand them more easily. At least half the doctors are from other countries these days.

At 2 a.m. last night, a motorcycle roared in and then back out an hour later. We were both up at the time, but is it just me, or is that positively rude as fuck? Never thought I would say this in a million years, but in some ways, this place is noisier than Norwich and Phoenix were in the 90s. I didn’t hear all the shit I hear at night there, and some of the shit I hear in the daytime I didn’t hear there nearly as often either. I know I’ve only lived in one adult community to judge from so far, but this has got to be the noisiest place I’ve ever lived in for the most part. Traffic and Landscaping during the daytime, traffic and planes at night… There’s always something. I also realize it’s just the times we’re living in and that not many places are quieter than this. I just wish I could get a little more used to it already! And a heavier sleeper as well.

Also, that loud Subaru has been visiting daily. Why would it go weeks without coming around to coming around every day? It might as well move back in in that case. That’s exactly what I’m worried it’s in the process of doing, too. Maybe they’re moving shit in every time they visit. Unless something’s going on, who needs to visit anyone every single day?

Still lightheaded but I’m also still calmer and I slept surprisingly well today. No way I’m going to get much sleep tomorrow because it’s trash day.

Aly and I were talking about words that trigger us. She said that while she’s certainly not mad at me, insisting I change anything or blaming me in any way, and she knows it may sound silly and irrational and can’t really explain why it bothers her, but the word “busy” is a trigger for her for some reason. As I told her, though, I don’t mind doing some filtering every now and then. If the requests are reasonable and simple enough (not that she actually “requested” anything from me), I can handle it. I’m not black or Mexican who can’t even handle being asked the most reasonable of things like to keep their music for their ears only, and who will act as if you just asked them to shoot their father, fuck their mother, and feed their kids to the tigers at the zoo.

I think we all have certain words or terms that bug us. The term “Native American” has always annoyed me because I’m an American and this is my native country, yet I can’t say I’m a Native American. Well, if I’m not a Native American, then what land am I native to?

Biphobic people, yes there really is such a word, annoy the fuck out of me, too. Yet some believe we’re either gay or straight and that there’s no gray area in between. But there is. I know this from first-hand experience. Besides, do they even have a clue just have ridiculous their claim sounds? Saying you can’t be attracted to both genders is like saying you can’t like blueberries if you like strawberries. And how does being bi mean you’re “confused?” I know when I’m attracted to a man and I know when I’m attracted to a woman. There’s no guesswork or “confusion” there for me. It’s as obvious to me as when I’m not attracted to a man or woman. Physically or sexually, I mean.

Last night I dreamed I was sitting on the side of Kim’s bed. This is the Kim I knew back in the 90s. I noticed a strip of turquoise-colored fabric on her nightstand that matched her sheets and I commented on it. But then I also realized she must not be doing as well as I thought because the condition of the nightstand was rather shabby.

Not sure if it was before or after this, but Kim was reading something and muttered something about me being wanted for murder.

Then I had this gross dream where Tom said that I left “shit” on the bathroom floor. Literally. But the “shit” looked like a bunch of mud. Nonetheless, I took a high-pressure hose and hosed it down the drain that was in the center of this huge square bathroom of ours in which both the walls and floor were done in little square tiles with grout between them.

In the last dream, I was handwriting letters to Lori and Lisa and fucking with them by mentioning stuff I “heard” happened that never really did.

So I went out walking around the circle to see if the loud car was still there and trying to remember if that might have been the loud vehicle I heard when in the shower around 8:00. I’d gotten to next door’s driveway when I suddenly remembered hearing it leave earlier and catching a blur of white and red from the headlights and taillights as the bastard passed by the tiny holes in the blinds. WTF is wrong with my memory lately? I even sent Tom an email saying that I hoped they didn’t wake him up on their way out.

I just wish it would go back to visiting once in a while instead of daily. Better yet, I wish they would sell the house. For real. But if they did it would just be something else sooner or later.