What a pleasant surprise. Woke up at 111½.

I wish I could snap my fingers and have it be noon-1:00. We’re getting that cage today and a new rat too!

Yesterday was the third morning in a row Andy called, but yesterday, he left a message. He was finally going through the job section in the paper when he came across an ad I may be interested in, he said. A music teacher was wanted that must be able to sing on pitch willing to train to do other things and teach kids between 1-7.

I told him thanks, but no thanks. I like music only as a hobby nowadays and I like to do and not teach. I still couldn’t keep a schedule like that and it’d be hard for me to get to the place.

I’m proud of myself, but mostly shocked, for being able to have a little more control over my schedule, for getting to these weekly appointments, and for being able to sleep while he’s working overhead, but I’m still far from normal as far as schedules, sleeping with him, and other things go. Even so, I’ve learned more and have changed more in the time I’ve known him, than in all of the time before that. At least, it sure seems that way!

I still wish I could have more doors open to me. I wish I could keep a schedule so that if I ever did want to do a job like this or some other job, at least the door wouldn’t be slammed in my face as it is now cuz of having no control over my schedule. That’s what this fertility thing is all about. Having doors open and taking back my free will as a woman. Yes, I’m curious as to why I’m sterile, but it’d be nice to be fertile just so that I could know I had a choice in the matter. Up to now, I’ve never had any say in the matter. It’s all been up to God only. I’d like to have as many doors open so that even though the chances are one in billions of my wanting a kid again in the future, God supporting that, Tom cumming enough, and me being able to keep a schedule regularly, I could at least open some doors that have been locked on me all my life.

As easy as it is to say what I just said, though, it’s just as easy to say I hope they tell me my uterus is very badly deformed. That’d make things easier, even if it made me angrier at God that he could do such a mean thing to me or to any woman.

I decided to take some of the old printed journals that I had bound in wires to send to Bob as a little something for Christmas in a manila envelope. There’s something like journals 2-14 in there. These were the ones that used thinner paper that fit better in the envelopes I’ve got. Hope he reads them since he’s got so much time on his hands, but if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. I’m pretty sure he will, though.

Tom worked on the roof yesterday and says he’s now down to having just 3-4 more hours left to complete the roof and make it 100% safe from rain. That’s hard to believe after all this time! He said this job would take 5 days. Instead, it’s been since 11/13.

I get a little annoyed with Andy’s calling me about that job the more I think of it. If his brain wasn’t too potted out to remember things, and if he even listened and gave a shit, he’d know that I only like to sing as a hobby nowadays. I think the main reason he left the message was just to be calling and leaving a message for the attention of it. I swear he can be just as selfish as he was back east. It’s just mainly in a different way.

I don’t have a good vibe about the freeloaders this weekend, nor do I have a bad vibe. When I wake up on Saturday morning, I should be able to get a damn good sense of the weekend freeloader forecast at that time. It’s usually the mornings that provide the strongest sense of what they’ll be like in the afternoons/evenings.

What will I do for the next 6 hours? I sang and I’ve updated things here, so maybe I’ll do some reading.

Later…

Just had some soup and listened to music. Another hour or so and Andy will call. The morning is passing so slowly! Still have 4-5 hours before we go out. I wish I didn’t get up till around now, but then that’d make it harder for me to hold back enough on my schedule to get to the appointments on Monday. I’d have to take Benadryl to fall asleep earlier to keep me from sleeping too late.

Yuck! My stomach’s all gassy now from the bean soup.

Later…

Shiny, who we now call the cat with his shiny black fur, just meowed to be let out. The good of his non-stop meowing is that I can go into another room and he’ll call to let me know when he wants out. Meanwhile, I let him out and he’s out there meowing to himself. So weird!

I forgot to say that for about a week now, the dog across the street has sort of become the problem I knew it would be. However, I’m not entirely sure it’s directly across the street where the renters are, but it is somewhere across the street. Fortunately, it doesn’t bark that much (no dog could bark as much as those collies) and it’s quiet at night, so I still have my nighttime peace.

Later…

Just 2-3 more hours to go!!

What? No call this morning from Andy?

Yesterday was a hectic, frustrating, confusing, yet fun day. First, I called Tammy this morning to tell her that I finally got through the worst of the lower braces. A few days after you get them on, your mouth is pretty inflamed like mine was yesterday, but now I’m home free and my mouth is callused and toughened up to them just about. My bite is still off, though, even when it’s not sore, so I have to eat nothing but soft foods. I eat mostly soup and even woke up a pound lighter today at 112. I’ll be stuck tomorrow. My shit system always turns itself off when I hit 112 so my body can hang onto whatever I eat and not shit it out till it gets back up to the 115 it’s comfortable at. Once I gain those few pounds back in a day or two, I’ll shit.

I also told Tammy about our pet store adventures yesterday, which I’ll get into in a minute.

First, poor Becky has to have surgery this morning on her knees and ankles for her rheumatoid arthritis. That’s really sad. I told Tammy to call once they got settled in to let me know how things went. Meanwhile, I’m sending the kid a get-well card.

God’s really cursed this family well. One generation after another. What kinds of problems would my kid have had if I had had one? Plenty, I’m sure.

If I had any sense whatsoever, I’d forget all about this fertility testing. Why put myself through all this shit just to get answers I may not get? I know I’m sterile, I know a kid isn’t meant to be whether or not I want one, so why do I torture myself like this? I guess if I gave up now I’d feel like a quitter, but that’s not to say for sure that I won’t back out at some point by either force or my own will. With my luck, I’ll just be told they can’t find anything wrong so I can be even more frustrated and confused, but then again, that’s part of getting the information I want. This way, if I go through with this, I won’t have to always wonder if they’d have told me they couldn’t find anything wrong. I’ll know for sure. That’s Tom’s guess. Tom said he couldn’t be sure on this one, but if he had to guess he’d guess they wouldn’t be able to find anything wrong cuz it’d be one of those subtle things beyond their abilities to find that I’ll outgrow in time. No fucking way. My first guess is that they’ll find what’s wrong, but it’ll be one of those rare things that they still can’t fix.

His saying this kind of reinforces my suspicions as to what he’ll do. He, having full control over his cumming, will continue to make sure he rarely cums with me, but that he lets them have a sample for testing, then he’ll hope/believe that they won’t be able to find anything wrong with me, so he can come home, go back to rarely cumming, and end up getting what he wants which is no kid. Meanwhile, if I had been fixable I’d have probably gone and let them fix me, then left it in God’s hands, even though the thought of having a kid and giving up my life and freedom, doesn’t really appeal to me.

I asked Tom why he’d cum in me regularly as he claims he does when he knows I don’t want a kid. He said he does because I didn’t tell him he couldn’t. True. I told him to be himself and do what he wants. Just don’t lie about it.

Anyway, I think I know how this is gonna play itself out. Whether or not I get fixed, he’ll cum very rarely with me and at a safe time, give them a sample of his cum which I didn’t think he’d do at first till I realized how convenient for him it’d be to do so, then he’ll just keep on rarely cumming with me so he can get his way. All this would be just fine too, if he’d just come out and say so. I’m on his side now. I don’t want a kid either, and God will see fit to it that I don’t conceive. I don’t know how to convince him a child will never be in the picture, so he doesn’t have to make such huge sacrifices and live with this fear, be it deep in his subconscious or not. Technically, God doesn’t have to sterilize a woman in order to keep her from conceiving. He can just make sure nothing starts growing in there, but still, fate is fate and I’m fated to never have a child. I’m psychic enough to know this. It’s also common sense too, telling me that he wouldn’t give me something I couldn’t handle.

I say I’d probably let them fix me if I were fixable, but that may not necessarily be so depending on the cost. I wouldn’t lower myself and degrade and humiliate myself by buying into normalcy, so to speak. I’m not gonna make myself suffer over a God who didn’t care enough to let me be born whole and normal. Like I said, there are some things that a woman shouldn’t have to do. Things that are God’s job, not hers.

I think I broke a record last Monday by being able to get to three appointments that were each one week apart. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do that in the past.

For the last two mornings, I’ve gotten anonymous calls at around 9:30. I have a feeling it’s Andy, just being a pest in the midst of his baked boredom. He doesn’t even leave messages. What? Does he just want me to hear the phone ringing and get up to check the box? He’s like that. He does little things like that to get attention. It’s along the same idea as the bangers and their “hear me” and “notice me” kick. I just wish he’d get a life and get a job! He only works a few hours a week. If he tried hard enough, he could get a job very easily in this city, but the fact that he still hasn’t called and told me of his new job that he’ll have for a week, tells me something right there. Even he’s admitted to being lazy and scared. God, he’s sad! How can he be so terrified of starting new jobs when he’s had to do it 100 times? He should be an expert by now.

Later…

God! I can’t even eat soup with noodles in it or the noodles that are in my favorite chicken TV dinners. They get hung up on the braces and get stuck midway down my throat. I’m gonna have to live on chicken broth!

It’s to be cool today and tomorrow, into the 70s for the weekend for perfect partying weather, and cooling down on Monday. Now that’s typical Arizona for you and that means that although the roof will be done this week, I’m gonna be forcefully invited to that mistake’s party if I don’t throw headphones on. Tom said they probably wouldn’t do something as extravagant as that inflatable elephant two birthdays in a row, but still, that doesn’t take away from all the screaming kids that’ll be playing outside, and who knows? They may even use this as an excuse to bang in and out, figuring her birthday’s only once a year, and that if they do it just once every now and then, I won’t complain to the city. But once is never enough for them. Once they really get on a roll, they get totally carried away. It’s like they get addicted to harassing me and they’ve just got to test and push and provoke and aaaarrrrgggghhhh! Some people just like to pick fights and problems, but my vibe isn’t too bad as of yet. Birthday party or not, they gotta do something in return for the roofing noise. I know them. I notice that every 3 months or so, they make some sort of scene for old time’s sake.

Later…

I am so goddamn sick of living like an 18-year-old! I have to go out to the back patio just to be able to use my fucking garbage disposal. I had to turn on the back room power, then after I used the disposal, I went to turn it back off and accidentally turned off the power to the computer and the bedrooms. So I had to reset the alarm clock and the stereo, but like I said, at our ages, I’m sick of living like lazy teenagers or college kids live. We don’t deserve this, but life really isn’t fair. Fucking Dureen was living high off the hog long before she was our age and we don’t even want to live “high off the hog.” We just want a decent house whose doors, faucets, plugs, etc. work well enough. One with a solid roof over our heads for when it rains. One with normal, nice, modern, double-paned windows. With doors that close all the way. With newer, bigger rooms, although, the back room and master bedroom are pretty big. I want a bathroom with elbow room and with at least just the tiniest bit of counter space. Anyway, some would call me selfish I suppose, but I don’t think that that’s too much to ask for in today’s world. Then again, that depends on who we are, doesn’t it? It’s OK for Doe to ask for and to receive just about anything she could want, but some of us, like I did in the past, can’t even ask for a baby. Even that’s too far-fetched and out of the question! You know that’s really not meant to be with a husband like mine and with a God that’s so controlling. What I mean by when I say “like a husband like mine” is in reference to how he only cums twice a year when I’m ragging.

Maybe we’re living like this cuz we’re simply gonna be compensated and live better later on. Once again, why do Tom and I have to pay for everything? Again, life isn’t fair cuz there are so many people who get all kinds of wonderful things for nothing. They don’t work for them, they don’t care about them, and they usually don’t deserve them, either.

Remembering his mom’s old house helps at times like these. Her place is even smaller, older, and more fucked up than ours. After visiting her place, I felt like I was returning to a modern mansion when we returned home! It was only about 700 square feet, but ours is about 1,200. We drove by it yesterday and they lied. The people who bought it aren’t fixing it up. They’re selling it as it is. They didn’t even tear down that old rotted, tilted barn-like garage. They took all the inside and outside blinds down. You can see it’s empty in there. Some huge Mexican family will get it and their screaming kids will join in with the screaming kids next to and behind the house. Their dog will be outside to yip away 24/7 too.

We were out twice yesterday. The first time, we went to pick up that prep kit first, which is an enema. The woman there told me I wasn’t scheduled for both tests on the same day, according to the computer. I almost called it quits right then and there, but later, Tom called back and told me I was scheduled for both tests that day. Well, I’m going for these tests on Monday, as nervous as I am, and if there are any problems, then that’s it. It’s over.

Is God testing me? Why is he doing this to me? How can God do this to a woman?

Vicki said she’s talked to people who have had these tests and she says that some say it’s no big deal, and others say it’s pretty uncomfortable. The woman there said it’d be a little uncomfortable cuz it dilates the cervix a bit. Tom thinks that because I had excruciating periods as a teenager, most women would find it bad, but I won’t find it too bad. I think it’s gonna hurt like hell. I may be a toughie when it comes to teeth, but not with pussies! I’m very sensitive down there. Maybe not like I was before I knew Tom, but I’m still plenty sensitive enough. In fact, one of God’s many reasons for sterilizing me is that he knows I could never handle having a kid.

Like I said, if I had any smarts at all, I’d just call it all off. There’s no reason for me to go through all this shit just for info when I know what the future holds as far as a kid goes, whether I continue to not want a kid, or decide in 5 years I want one again.

I have mixed emotions about not wanting a kid. If I wanted one like I used to, I’d feel more motivated to go through with this shit. However, when the end result was no baby, I don’t think that’d do my emotions any good.

After getting the prep kit, we went to pick up some more roofing shingles, then to two pet stores.

I was surprised and disappointed to find that only one place had Fancy mice and they were all males.

On my way into one of these stores, I saw two little kids heading into the store and thought to myself how they’d go right where I was going. Sure enough, they did, and they were obnoxious in the way that all kids are.

Then we came home and I had some soup, while he unloaded the shingles and made a call to a tool shop.

We went out again and had a little trouble finding the shop, then had to wait for what seemed like 20 minutes for the guy to bring Tom his part for his nail gun. It’s a part that advances the next nail to speed the job up even more.

Our final stop was another pet store. Again, no Fancy mice, but all three places had tons of rats. However, there was this $160 awesome investment that’ll house a whole lifetime of rats! It’s mainly for ferrets, but Ratsy should love this thing! It’s got huge tubes and lots of different levels to climb. Within a week, we’ll be getting this and maybe one or two more rats, too!

So, even though all I ended up getting was mice/rat food, Tom was laughing at how we went from getting a few $3 mice to a $160 cage, although I do still intend to get some more mice.

We enjoyed our time out together and Tom was in a good mood, laughing and mocking me swearing, and you know how clean his mouth is compared to mine! He was even laughing with me at this woman in a car near us who had short, funny-looking hair (Tom almost never laughs at someone for how they look). It was light up top and dark on the bottom. It reminded me of vanilla ice cream on top and a scoop of chocolate ice cream.

I can finally call for the uterus scan. Once again, though, my period’s really, really light. Even lighter than the last one with no full flow. I had a light flow for a few hours, but now it’s dried up again. Still, I’m gonna make the damn appointment and get that over with.

I’m still stunned that God hasn’t seen to it that I’ve had more female problems than just some yeast infections. Most of all, I can’t believe he hasn’t seen to it that I’ve needed a hysterectomy. I wonder why. That does seem, after all, like something he’d do to me and that would fit my “life patterns,” so to speak. Especially after he’s cursed me sexually. I’d think that if one was cursed with sex, their sexual parts would be cursed too.

Tom and I were talking about how a few months after a couple either adopts or starts fertility testing, they sometimes find the woman’s pregnant so they end up having their own kid after all. Fortunately, that only happens to other couples. God still would not only not give me something like that that I couldn’t handle, but it’s not destined.

I haven’t lost any weight since the braces went on and it looks like I’ll stay the 112-115 pounds I bottomed out at 5 months ago. Especially since I’m constipated nearly every other day.

I’m looking forward to moving my computer back into the back room. Not just so Tom and I can be networked again, and so I can be near the animals again as distracting as they can be, but so I can set up my dolls in the living room where my computer is now. Also, I’m going to go back to walking. My back’s been fine, but if I walk at least 15 minutes a day, no one can say I’m too non-active even if walking doesn’t really do me any good. It doesn’t tone me up or slim me down. It may increase my stamina a bit, though.

Tom worked on Mary’s computer, and as usual, he had to go back to work on it some more. That’s because Mikey fucked it up. Tom talked to Mary about using him for so many jobs, so I would think that she’d keep that in mind, but time will tell.

Sometime late this morning we’ll be going out to get that prep kit for the kidney exam, some more roofing shingles, and 2-3 new mice! We’ll hit PetSmart first, then Petco.

Later…

It’s freezing out! It’s 38º, but it feels less than that. As I knew it’d be, it’s to be a beautiful weekend for the mistake’s party. It’s gonna be sunny and warmer.

The dogs are up now too, so time to run the air cleaner.

Later…

I just came really, really close to calling off the kidney and uterus testing and the whole damn thing. These fucking voice machines! You can’t even talk to a live person anymore! First I called Genesis to schedule the uterus test, but couldn’t get a hold of anyone live. Also, there were no options for scheduling on the main menu, so I had to hit randomly to get a live person. Someone in radiology answered, but couldn’t help me cuz I couldn’t remember the name of the test. So after going through hell trying to get in touch with Vicki, who does Dr. Well’s referrals, I left her a message since she too, has a machine. She was away from her desk, I guess.

Is this where God starts throwing hurdles at me to send me a message saying he disagrees with what I’m doing and therefore trying to stop me?

Later…

Vicki just called and cleared up all my confusion and frustration. At least she did for the time being, anyway. I told her my problem and she gave me the initials for this very long and complicated test name and told me that they’d know what I meant at Genesis Center if I used those initials. Then she offered to make the appointment for me, which I hoped she’d do. So, I’m waiting for her to call me back.

Later…

I heard back from Vicki. I got both the IVP kidney test and the HSG uterus test scheduled for the same day. She said they told her to tell me to have someone drive me to these tests. I’m getting a little nervous here. Are these gonna be really painful tests and am I gonna get sick? She said the uterus test is a form of x-ray, and this is the test where they insert a dye into the fallopian tubes. This test is usually all a sterile woman needs, cuz the most common cause of sterility is clogged fallopian tubes, but I know this isn’t my problem. My problem’s much deeper than just clogged tubes.

Patrice is here! Yup, the mailman surprised me by bringing her as early as 11:20. He said he wanted to get packages out of the way first. I can understand that. There are a lot of them at this time of year.

Patrice is beautiful, but it was just my shit doll luck that the hole in her stand wasn’t drilled through all the way for her toe-hold. Thanks to Tom and his drill bit, though, he widened it up enough. The stand grips her at the top of her thigh. Not the thigh of the leg that’s up in the air, of course. The toe of the leg that’s thigh is gripped, has an extension that goes through the bass of the stand for extra security, even though the thigh gripper does a fine job on its own.

Her hair wasn’t short. It was up in a bun, which makes sense. Ballerinas are feminine, so whoever did hear of a short-haired ballerina? Anyway, it took me forever to get this bun down! It’s still in a ponytail high on her head, but I braided the ponytail. It kind of sticks out a little, but it looks good enough.

Her dress is a little crumpled, but with time, it should fall out nicely. I’ll iron it if I have to.

Tom knows the song she twirls to, but I don’t. It’s kind of boring, even though I love to wind her up and watch her twirl!

So now I have 7 dolls and Patrice is my first one that’s all porcelain. The lollipop doll should be here between mid-late January, and I’d love to get that angel doll with my Christmas money, but that’s just the question - will there be any Christmas money since we’re not exchanging gifts this year?

We got a Christmas card from Cindy and one from Mary, Dave, Mom, and Mikey. I sent out my cards and a letter to Tammy and one to Kim containing my last few emails to her. Her computer’s still out of it.

As for my computer, I really rearranged things, and it was fun.

I called Andy to leave him a message, but he answered. He’s right back to his typical, sad self. He was baked and he’s still mostly jobless. He just sits in front of the TV, listens to music, or gabs on the phone. He said he was gonna sober up when his pot ran out, but he bought some more. He said he keeps in touch every day with 4 different temp agencies, but they have no work available for him. He said he’d like to pick up a paper but can’t afford one. Yet he could afford pot.

Face it, Andy. You don’t want to work or have a life or move on.

He said he had therapy yesterday with his gay therapist who’s had the same boyfriend for 18 years. I hope this will help him get off his ass and out of the rut he’s in. I know it’s hard, but he can’t afford to be lazy and hide behind a joint. He needs to work or else he’ll end up homeless.

No wonder I had a vibe of hitting down at 110 sometime in January. I’m gonna lose weight whether or not I want to, cuz having to keep stripping all this wax and reapplying it is a bitch!

The good of it is that it only took 45 minutes to get these on. Not 1½ hours like with the upper ones. Also, my inner mouth isn’t on fire like it was when the upper ones went on. Guess I’ve learned to use this wax well, but still. I not only have to wax the two inner knobs, but I also have to wax the front to keep my lip from hanging up on them. Your bottom lip goes over the bottom teeth more so than up top so up top never really got hung up. It’s easier to sing than it is to talk since you usually talk faster than you sing. I’m also not as sore as I thought I’d be. I am if I try to eat, though. Too sore to even chew gum. It’ll be a while before I can do that. So, I guess the upper braces will come off in March, and the lower ones will come off in a year when I’m 34. And I guess I won’t be living here when the bottom ones come off, either.

What was flattering to me was that Melanie had my card sitting in her room. And mine was the only card there! Was this because she hasn’t gotten any other cards yet to set up? Or cuz mine was her favorite?

The massage recliner in the living room broke. Tom said it’s not worth fixing, so we’ll bring out the one that’s in the bedroom and dump this one when they do their bulk pick-up out in the alley like they do every few months.

Later…

Just let the cat in to eat and meow. Man, is it freezing out! If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was back east. It’s 50º, but it feels like it’s in the 20s.

I printed out all the things I want to use to border the tops of the pages of my printed versions of these journals. There are old journal covers, drawings, family pictures, celebrity pictures, and a few things that come with the program I used to make the borders. There were a few that I doubted would come out nice, but I told myself to try them anyway, cuz I could always freeloader it if I didn’t like them. So, the freeloaders will get the ones I don’t like for their own journal excerpts. I can’t believe I’m not low on ink after all I printed.

How could I forget my surprisingly good news? I called the doctor’s office and found out that I got a normal pap! Is it a good sign of any kind? I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell. There must be a reason, though, why I’ve come this far, despite his lack of cumming and his lying about it.

It was a dead quiet weekend. No door slamming, no kids, even less barking. That’s because it was such an unusual Sunday full of nothing but rain. It could only rain on a Sunday afternoon cuz of Tom’s trying to finish that fucking roof! If he hadn’t been roofing, it would’ve been bright and sunny. Of course, God will make sure next weekend’s weather is just beautiful for the little animal’s birthday party.

Just when I think I’ve finally played Leak and Bucket for the last time, I have to do it all over again. A part of me wonders if this will ever end! I told myself the other day that once the roof was fixed, I’d never again take for granted having a solid roof over my head, but now I wonder if I’ll be paranoid for the next 5 years whenever it rains. The good and shocking part of it is that it didn’t leak in here. Water did drip through the unfinished parts of the roof into the attic where there were little tears in the tarp, but Tom went up and put buckets under those drips. The only new thing that appeared was a little strip of what looked to be a water stain seeping through a crack in the plaster in the living room. Tom, though, said he couldn’t find any moisture up in the attic and said that there was less than a teaspoon in each bucket he put up there. Not enough to cause that line, so was the line always there, and did I, who’s usually so observant, miss it?

I don’t know if I forgot to write this, but Tom buried Spot in one of Bunny’s old holes that needed to be filled in any way.

Backing up to Saturday. Saturday was cool and breezy too, but not like Sunday. Sunday was cold! You could see your breath in the air. Saturday posed a threat of rain too, and Tom didn’t exactly feel comfortable exposing the roof to work on it when it could’ve started raining. So we went way out of town to a hardware store just to waste our time. He was looking for some part for his nail gun, but the stupid male prick that worked there didn’t know shit. He was obviously having some problems with his son too, who kept calling him. The guy told his son that if he called one more time he wouldn’t be able to sit. So I joked with Tom about calling the store to ask if his son could still sit.

I wasn’t kidding when I said that something up there really wants to make it hard for me to get dolls. I really have to pay and go through a lot to get them. We were heading to the doll store since they’re closed on Sundays and Mondays, and oh my God! Phoenix is notorious for its constant construction that’s everywhere and I’m sooo fucking sick of it! We got held up in traffic for quite a while cuz they closed a part of the freeway. It felt like it took us 4 hours just to get to this goddamn store.

Both the Edie dolls were still there, but I was wrong about her price. I thought she was $30, but she was $40 just like Anne, and Tom said that was fine. They’re both Seymour Mann dolls. For the most part, the dolls in this store were boring. There was a doll that was rather unique and odd-looking, though. I wouldn’t want her, but she was cool to see for the sake of something different. It was just your typical doll with regular arms, legs, mouth, hair, etc., but she had lavender eyes!

That nice guy that works there whose name is Mark, so I heard, told me that it usually takes 7 weeks to make two dolls. I didn’t know the people in the classes got to make two. He said, though, that since it can get pretty addicting, some ladies have been with them for years. So I guess you can do all you pay for.

The Barbie dolls were about $20-$40. Most of them wore gorgeous dresses. That’s the problem - the really small dolls get the nice outfits, and the bigger dolls that I like get the outfits that aren’t as nice. Part of it is the difference between porcelain and Barbies. The Barbie doll’s bodies are whole bodies, but the porcelain ones have no bodies. The trunks of their bodies are just stuffing. There was, however, a porcelain doll that had most of her body, cuz she was a woman doll and she wore a gorgeous dress that didn’t cover as much as the girl’s dresses usually do. The dresses that go on the girl dolls aren’t as nice, of course, as the dresses that the women dolls get. There were some pretty fancy dresses on a few porcelain women dolls. One was dressed as a Vegas showgirl. One had such a fancy dress of such nice material and of jewels that she was $1000! I guess this is a new string of dolls, cuz I don’t remember seeing them before. Their faces and hair were boring, though, and they were all the same. Only the outfits were different.

Anyway, I’m hoping to get this gorgeous doll I saw with any Christmas money I get. She was beautiful! An angel doll of some sort with purple wings, a nice lavender dress, really long blond hair, and an elegant and graceful pose. She’s a shorter doll like Jessica and Sunshine and Lollipops at about 14”. Her face was nice, too. Just like Summer Dream, her head is turned to one side. The opposite side of Summer Dream’s, which means she’ll go perfectly where I plan on putting her.

After this fucking roof is finally done, I’m going to move my computer back into the back room. Not just so we can network our computers again, but so I can put the red table that was in the living room back in there. I’m gonna keep Summer Dream in the music room and I’ll probably keep Jessica in there, too. Bailey and Rapunzel will go back on the living room speaker and TV. On the red table, I was going to line up Edie, Anne, Sunshine and Lollipops, Patrice, and Angel.

Tom believed Patrice would come that day, too (Saturday). I thought there was a chance of it since I seem to be getting dolls in twos lately, but nope. I gotta be either asleep or out when dolls come, but Tom says today’s an unlikely day for a parcel post delivery to be made. If it were first class, that’d be different.

Ashton Drake sent us what was supposed to be a mini magnetic dry-erase board, but not quite. You have to wet a cloth to erase the writing.

All I saw at the freeloader’s all weekend was a white car with a rack of some sort on its trunk. I went into the music room and heard a beat going and was like, shit! I knew it was just a matter of time before we’d hear from them, but I didn’t have a vibe about this weekend. I expected a ruckus next weekend. Then I realized it was the heartbeat I switched to in place of the stereo. Since this fan is softer than the last one, the heartbeat on my sound spa can be heard, and I like it so much better than the stereo cuz this beat is steady.

I got rid of “Mystery’s world” on the computer since the whole computer is my world now. I put the stuff that was in Mystery’s world into the start/program area.

I also paired up some journal pictures. That birthday wallpaper message turned out to be quite a present. I didn’t know this, but in the WinDraw program I use a lot, you can select a screen size background and make what you want on it. I made two collages of my favorite Gloria pictures and one of Norah’s. Then I paired up some of my journal covers to lessen the number of files I have. After I touch those up a bit, I’ll pair some family pictures.

Andy, who just has to do the opposite of what you ask him and who doesn’t always give a shit about what you’d prefer, just couldn’t wait till we talked live to tell me the rain he was driving through was mixed with snow. Yeah, it snowed in Vegas. Meanwhile, in New England, they’re having this unbelievably mild weather. They were even in the 70s! The 70s in November!! That’s quite a record.

Kim also called and is all moved into her apartment in Northampton with Walter. They’re in a two-family house. They have the top two floors. She’s got big rooms with hardwood floors. It’s a two-bedroom apartment and it’s $900 a month! Jesus! That’s the northeast for you. Especially Northampton.

Anyway, I guess Walt’s conveniently decided he wants kids. They’re gonna get married and be trying for a kid over the next year or so. I just hope Kim doesn’t get burned by him not doing his part in making the kid or by him leaving when the kid’s born if it’s born. That’s what I wonder. Would God give such a wonderful person whom I know would make a great mom a kid? She has the looks for it, that’s for sure. I hope she gets what she wants, though.

I called Tammy back Saturday morning. Mark and she are remodeling the hell out of her place. She was really nice in asking how my birthday went and she was happy about what I got/am getting, even though it’s not what she’d want. She’s gotten better at listening to me about my interests, whereas in the past she didn’t really care unless it was something she could relate to.

I spoke to Lisa too, and as usual, she’s not doing very well. She’s happy she’s lost weight. She’s gone from 152 pounds to 120 pounds, but now she’s into pot and acid. Great! Just fucking great! I’m glad I’m not destined to have a kid.

It’s almost scary to see how closely her life is like mine was, although I didn’t get into acid. I try not to compare us, but it’s something you can’t miss. Like I said, the only thing that’s different is her seeming to be as straight as an arrow so far anyway, and her interest in meteorology. Makes me wonder if she’s sterile and if she too, will go through years of depression over not being able to have a kid. I hope I’m wrong, and if not, I hope she doesn’t want one anyway, and therefore, doesn’t mind sterility. I don’t know about her or Sarah having kids, but I’ll bet you all my journals that Becky will be a mom someday. She already looks like a mom. She’s got God’s qualifications on that one totally. It’s like God has a fixation with homelier and plain-looking ladies becoming mothers. There are a few good-looking mothers, but they’re one in every 10,000.

She swears she hasn’t talked to Larry in over a month, but you know I can’t trust one thing she says anymore.

I still can’t call for the uterus test since I’m still only spotting. I wish my fucking rag would hurry up and start!

I fear my pap was too bloody to read and that’s why there are still no results posted for me on that voice messaging thing. If so, that’ll really piss me the fuck off, cuz this is why I went straight to a GYN in the first place, and I told her so. The whole idea was to avoid having to play the repeat pap game.

I’m hurt and angry with Tom right now, but not as hurt and as angry as I should be. Perhaps the reasons I’m not more hurt and angry are cuz I don’t want a child and cuz this is nothing new. It’s not like I just found out how abnormal our sex is and that he’s lied about sex and having a kid. I should’ve known that he’d eventually resort to bold lying and say he’s been cumming regularly when that’s pure bullshit. A lot of people are like him - they just deny what they want. So long as it can only be suspected and not literally proven in the way that you can prove it’s either light outside or dark.

Kim once told me she couldn’t tell if a guy came in here, but what Tammy told me is what I’m sure most women would tell me - that they can tell when their man cums. They ask rape victims if their attacker came. Why would they ask that unless they knew she could tell? There’s always been a distinct difference to me when Tom’s cum. When he cums, the sheets under my ass are soaked and so are my inner thighs. It feels as if I wet the bed when he cums. When he doesn’t, I don’t feel any different. Yet he has the bold nerve to tell me he cums 7-8 out of 10 times.

So I was right, after all, about how this infertility thing would play out. He probably figured I’d be fixable and that I’d let them fix me and leave getting pregnant up to God. Then he’d let them have his cum for testing which he has full control over, then he’d just come home and make sure he very rarely cums with me and that if he did cum, it was at a safe time. As to why I never would’ve ended up pregnant? Just because, he’d say. Just because that happens sometimes for no apparent reason. The doctor, he knows, would support this too. So that way he could’ve escaped having to deal with why he’s too afraid to cum, and why I didn’t get pregnant.

The man just doesn’t want to cum. Period. He told me he was gonna tell me from now on whether or not he cums, cuz he’s sick of how I “test” him (by his not correcting my comments about how he cums regularly, when we know damn well he doesn’t). I told him that that’s up to him. It’s not if he cums that I care about. It’s if he lies about it that I care about. He also told me that sometime in 1998 he began cumming regularly cuz of how we were able to get him inside me regularly, and cuz of the wonderful friction he feels now that he’s on top. First of all, he’s been on top for a while now. Second of all, he said sex is an emotional thing for him and not a physical thing. Lastly, he’s the one that refused to go inside me at times in the past. He’s the one that just had to play his games. It’s all bullshit excuses as far as I’m concerned. I’ve thought about it and thought about it and there’s no way he could be cumming regularly. I’d give anything to be wrong about this, but I know without a doubt that I’m not. And besides, no guy that doesn’t want a kid, and whose wife doesn’t want a kid, is gonna go squirting in her pussy regularly. He even admitted he’d do what I wanted first when it came to that. Even if he did want a kid, which I know damn well he doesn’t, he’d still go along with my not wanting one first, and do what he had to in order to ensure that I got what I wanted, which is no kid.

Now, why couldn’t he have just come out and told me, “I don’t want a kid and you don’t either, so why don’t I just not cum? I’d rather not cum than have to have you go through the hassles of birth control. I can get off on my own if I need to. Meanwhile, you go on ahead with your testing and try getting the answers you want.”

I also expressed that I was mad at myself for not going to this doctor back in 1994 when I wanted a kid, knew I was sterile, and so I could’ve maybe avoided years of misery. I should’ve not worried about him like he tells me not to. He always tells me not to worry about him and to just take care of myself. Then he tried to make me feel worse by turning things around and saying that I was mad at him and that I was blaming him. Well, I don’t appreciate his putting being embarrassed to talk to the doctors about his not cumming over my needs and my depression. He preferred that I go through all that depression like I did than be cornered by a doctor about his not cumming and about his not doing something he doesn’t want to do. What would he have done? Gone in there back then and said, “My wife wants a kid and she wants me to cum, but I don’t want a kid and I don’t want to cum, either?”

Still, we could’ve worked things out years ago somehow, if he’d only had the balls to face it and deal with it without going into denial and getting into lying and all that.

I’ll bet you anything that he’ll start telling me, after sex, that he hasn’t cum now that he knows I know he’s only cum twice in 1998. He admits to not cumming during the roofing, though, cuz it was at that time that I hinted certain things to him and he kind of caught on and figured he better be more honest from here on out. So, since then he’s admitted he doesn’t cum. It’s nice to know Tammy’s 48-year-old man can still get off in the midst of doing all that physical work of remodeling, but my 41-year-old man can’t. He can’t mix sex with physical work. Gotta act like an 80-year-old man instead.

Like I said, I don’t care how the sex itself is. It’s the lying and the lame, bogus excuses I get tired of, but this shit just never ends. If you want a sexual relationship of any kind with Tom S, you have to take it part-time, half-assed, and with all the lame lies and excuses added in. Then he said, “I could tell you that you should give me the benefit of the doubt when I tell you I cum regularly, but I won’t. I’ll let you be you and I’ll be me.”

Meanwhile, I guess I’ll continue on with the testing even if it does me no good in the long run. Tom might change his plans since I mentioned figuring that he’d let them have his cum for testing. He may refuse to let them have any now. If that’s what happens, then he can deal with this doctor alone about his not cumming if he wants to, but me? I’ll be out of there and permanently done with this whole fucking issue. It’s no wonder I don’t want a child anymore with this man. Not just because I don’t want the responsibilities and burdens of a child, and not just because I don’t want my life and freedom taken away by a kid, but because I’m so fucking sick of the whole subject that it sickens me. I just hope to hell I never go back to wanting a kid because both God and Tom would never allow me one.

Also, he’s been punishing me by not having sex with me all weekend.

What else could he be lying to me about? Is there anything else that’s not so obvious as this one that he’s been putting me on about? I’m just so confused. I don’t know who to trust or what to do, think, or believe anymore.

My lower teeth are enjoying their last moments of freedom. Got up at 2 AM. A little earlier than I’d like to have gotten up since I won’t be seeing Melie till 1:30, but I’ll live.

Once again, I fell asleep to the sound of his nail gun and I got up at 9 PM.

Fortunately, there were no unwanted calls/messages for me. There was a message from Tammy and Andy. I returned Andy’s message and will call Tammy tomorrow. Her message was sweet and sincere, but I got a kick out of how she lied about trying to call me several times. Not according to the Caller ID box. She also said she was calling from Mark’s. Then why did her number show up? God, that lying sister of mine! I still appreciated her message very much, though, and I know she means well.

I told Tom I wouldn’t even let Doe, Art, or Larry get the chance to leave a message if I saw their number show up. I’d pick the phone up and hang right back up on them. He said that wouldn’t be very smart, cuz what if someone was sick? So what? I said. Then he said that he’s not saying this will happen in the near future, but they know how much I like Goldie and Al. Yeah, so? That doesn’t mean they’d call to tell me they were sick if they were sick. Unless Tammy’s dumb enough to associate with them again and therefore tells me when they die, I know I can figure that in 10-15 years they’ll be gone. He said that’s not the way it works. Well, that’s the way it works with my family. Art wouldn’t call me if Dureen died. Larry wouldn’t call me if Sandy or Jen died.

I figured I’d gain the most I’d ever gained before in one day, but I only gained 4 pounds. I got up to 116 pounds. Tom said I’d wake up at 114 pounds. I figured that after diving into that Chinese food I’d hit 118, so I told him I’d wake up at 116. We were both wrong. I amazingly got up at 113. I’m really 4 more pounds than I say I am cuz house scales are always 4 pounds less than doctor’s scales and I’d think the doctor’s scales would be more accurate. So when I’m 113, I’m really 117. And when I’m really 117, I look 127!

Tom said that if I think the bangers that bang by are bad, I should hear what it’s like up on the roof. Lately, our local bangers haven’t been too bad. Just like with sales calls, they escalate, then they slack off, and back and forth. Up on the roof, you can hear everything, since it’s above any walls and the sound can just go right through. He said they banged by constantly, but most of them were miles away. I believe it. Give it another 10-20 years and you’ll be able to go up on your roof and hear stereos in California, that’s how desperate and lonely this society has become.

I was laughing to myself over that bitch and her trying to haul my ass into court. Here I say how courts don’t work and all that, yet in a sense, it did work for her. Ever since she tried having me served, I haven’t sent any wacky or hateful mail and there’s been no bottle tossing. In fact, this is the longest stretch of time where they haven’t forced me into doing something to them cuz of their shit. So in the end, and as of yet, we both got what we wanted - to not be bothered by one another.

Speaking of them bothering me, I don’t have a bad vibe for this weekend, but I’ll bet you anything that they’ll use the mistake’s birthday party as an excuse to be heard back after all that roofing noise. Again, not cuz noise bothers them, but just because it’s coming from over here. Even if we weren’t roofing, every so often there’ll be a bit of a ruckus from over there, like I said. Gotta remind me that they’re there. Gotta rebel a little. rolls eyes

I didn’t call the uterus people today, cuz those two spots were all I had. When the fuck is it ever gonna start? It’s like it gets wimpier and wimpier each month. Maybe the exam confused it. It seems I bled the most I’ve ever bled at one of these exams the last time, so maybe the exam threw it off. Oh well. It’s gotta start sooner or later.

As far as I know, we’re going to the doll store today at 10:00 when they open. I’ll have to remember to check out their collector’s Barbie dolls this time. I’m curious to compare their prices to the Barbie doll I saw for $17 in a drugstore. I wonder if they’ll have those 36” dolls he said they were getting for just $300?

I also wonder if Patrice will come today, although I think Monday or Tuesday is more likely. It’s just that Summer Dream was delivered on a Saturday.

Yes, I’m 33 today. Anyway, it’s about time I do some writing.

Yesterday, we planned to have me stay up as long as I could. Without Benadryl that was no problem. I was up 19-20 hours before I fell asleep but get this - I slept through his nail gun all day! I’ve come a long way since those mad butches and project animals. He finished at 4:00 and at 6:00 I woke up. I was still tired, but couldn’t go back to sleep, so I took a Benadryl and slept till just after midnight. Guess I was beat!

Tom wished me a happy birthday when I got up, and if you think I’m gonna spend my birthday worrying about dieting - think again! So I had him pick me up some stuff from Jack-n-the-Box and he got some stuff too.

I noticed an envelope on top of the scanner where Tom places my mail when he gets it and thought, oh no! The handwriting looked like Dureen’s, but it was a nice card from Evie.

Fortunately, I have no vibes of any assholes trying to contact me, but if they did, it’d only be cuz they were trying to win me over so they could fuck me over yet again. It’s not gonna happen for the millionth time, of course, cuz any calls that may come in will be ignored. An hour later, he went to work. He had gotten the night off, but as the bank usually does, they fuck his schedule over and push overtime on him, so he had to go in tonight. That’s OK, though. Gives me a chance to catch up on my writing.

When I came in here, there was a message on my wallpaper from Tom. On a pink background with some cactuses and balloons, he wrote: Happy Birthday Jodi Lin.

Then I went to check my email and got 4 messages from Evie. You heard right - 4 messages. One seemed to be blank, but the others were saying a little bit about what was going on with her and how she was thinking of me on my birthday, and the last one was great. I told her I prefer dirty jokes. It just seems that the raunchier they are, the funnier. So she sent me this thing that had a list of things about Thanksgiving that sounded dirty, but weren’t, like, what a huge breast! And it must be broken cuz every time I squeeze the tip, nothing comes out.

My period’s starting. At least it seems to be starting again. Still, I’m gonna go ahead and call to set up a time for the uterus scan.

Yesterday, I finished the huge task of taking out all our pictures and reorganizing the photo albums. It helped me to push my schedule by keeping super busy, but it sure was a big job! It was fun and worth it, too.

I forgot to mention something about Melanie that I noticed, and thought was a bit odd. I noticed she had a thin gold wedding band on her thumb. There were no rings on any other fingers. I had thought, though, that I saw some sort of diamond on her ring finger when we first met. Could she be getting a divorce? I hope not for her sake, cuz I want her to be happy.

El cocko’s been taking its bitch back at the end of the day, but the thing that worries me is all the time he’s taking to do so. He was here for an hour and a half the other day and this worries me. He didn’t take an hour and a half to see the mistake. This I know. No guy like the scum he is would do that so that only leaves one other probable thing and I don’t like it. This cock is trying to get on her good side and weasel back in here. Then when it comes in here, things will be OK in the beginning, except for its constant door slamming, and then the music will start back up. Uh-uh. Ain’t gonna happen, Mikey! You come back, you’ll be bounced right back out!

I’d love to really do some detective work and follow her someday. Not just to see where she goes out of curiosity, but to really freak her out even more when she reads that I know where she goes. It’ll be one thing to read that I’ve got her unlisted phone number, and her account number as far as her housing goes, among a few other things, but something like this should really give her the creeps.

For my birthday, Tom ordered me Sunshine and Lollipops. She was ordered on the 2nd.

I called to ask about Patrice, whom I was last told would be shipped on 12/12, but she left on 11/18 and is on her way! It takes 10-15 business days for dolls to go from the company to the people, so I’d say she’ll be here sometime next week.

If Tom’s mom remembers or even cares, to tell you the truth, to send me $33, I’ll get Edie from the doll store.

Sometime next week, Tom wants to take me to pick out some baby mice! I like the new idea better than the old one. Originally, we were gonna get a male mouse to impregnate all my female mice, but instead, we’re gonna get a few pregnant females. As we well know, all you need is 3 pregnant females to give you more than you need as far as increasing the population goes. Better to get a few young pregnant ones than to impregnate the 7 I’ve got and put these old mice through the hassles of that.

Later…

Andy had me on the phone for quite a while a couple of days ago, but I managed to get out of it just over an hour into the conversation. The sad thing about it was, was that the whole time we talked, he didn’t tell me anything new except for the good news that his AIDS test was negative and that he hated the L.A. traffic.

He was totally stoned. Not able to understand much of what I was saying, not letting me get a word in edgewise too well, and just going on and on and on about the same old goddamn, boring things. Aaaaaarrrgggggghhhhhhhh!

I reminded myself of how I used to love hearing from him and I felt a twinge of guilt for finding him so annoying, but I can’t help it. I’ve changed and he hasn’t. I just don’t find Andy of interest to me anymore. No, I won’t dump him, cuz he hasn’t harmed me. I want to be there for him whenever possible, I want him to have love with David or with someone, but I just wish he’d hurry up and get the fuck back east! I still doubt it’s gonna happen, and he’s changed his plan once again. He’s not going in May with his aunt and uncle. But before I could get the chance to ask why he told me he was gonna drive back in April. I don’t know if he’ll go, but I’d rather type him letters than listen to him babble about the usual once or twice a week for an hour, then be too much of a stoned airhead to remember anything he told me or that I told him. The question is, though, will he remember the things I write to him? He told me that he remembers reading the encouraging letter I just sent him and that he was touched by it, but can’t remember a damn thing I said. That’s sad. He also says he couldn’t remember that Michelle just turned 24. He thought she was gonna be 25. He guessed me to be turning 34. He said his memory problem couldn’t be all pot-related and I told him to go see a doctor, but I think it is all pot-related.

No one likes to be miserable. I know. I’ve been there. And I’d have done something about it the very first day I felt miserable if I could’ve, but a part of me wonders about Andy. Does he really care that he’s the way he is? I know he wants to be loved, and I believe he’d stay sober forever if he could, but does he really give a shit about working and other things? Are the phone and TV his only interests? I asked him if he felt he could want to get fired deep down, but he said no way, it’s such an awful thing to have to go through, and he didn’t see how I could think that he’d want to get fired as much as he does, but I don’t know. A part of me thinks he not only sets himself up to be fired out of fear, but so that he can have more time to be home watching TV, listening to Stevie Nicks, and gabbing on the phone for hours on end with a joint between his lips. I can kind of understand and relate to the wanting to be home more often. We’re both homebodies and if I were working full-time, I’d wish I could be home enjoying my stuff and doing the things I enjoy too, as Tom pointed out.

He also admits he eats like a pig when he can, yet he’s so big on people looking thin and young.

All he told me about L.A. was how shitty the traffic was and how gloomy he found L.A. to be.

Meanwhile, he says he’s gonna be calling temp agencies to see what’s available. So I guess he’ll stay with Red Lobster till they fire him, then work for another temp agency for a week or two.

Then he’s so negative about us moving, saying that there’s pollution outside the valley too, and more spiders, and shit like that. Why does he always find negative things to say about the things people look forward to doing/having, etc.?

Later…

The voice messaging thing for my pap results still hasn’t gotten my results. It’s still a little soon, though. If I don’t get my results by Monday, I’ll call the office. At least I can rest assured that there was nothing wrong. If there was something wrong, I’d have been contacted by now.

I had a burger, some fries, and a slice of cheesecake, and now, it’s popcorn time!

Later…

I know my doll won’t come today even though it could, technically. I’ll be home and awake at mail time.

It’s freezing out there now! The cool thing about being in the desert, though, is that in just a few hours it’ll be warm.

The cock was here picking its bitch up. The bitch has three different people that I know of to give her rides to and from work if she needs it. Three people! I couldn’t have gotten me one person, let alone three if I had been in her shoes years ago! Yes, she’s got three people between her cock, the tall thing in the light blue car that I think is her sister, and Bill.

I’ve been taping Christmas music, but so far, I could only get one good song. At one point, when I was scanning through a tape, I heard rap music. Some freeloaders got together and put out a Christmas song with a rap beat. Typical, typical freeloaders. They gotta do everything in such set ways. Everything to them is rap, drugs, violence, laziness, and church. They don’t know anything else. Most of them have no education whatsoever.

And a part of me still wishes I didn’t let her get a word out of her black mouth when it came yelling at my door last year. I should’ve just beat the fuck out of her right then and there before she could even utter a word, and how embarrassed I am for myself for writing that I hope her taking her tizzy fit makes her feel better. Like I really give a shit how that sick fuck feels? Yeah, right!

Later…

Damn! I gained 4 pounds today. All that just for taking one day off from eating so little? God, my metabolism’s so slow! I could eat my way back up to the mid-120s in less than a week.

Later…

Two days in a row there was a hang-up message from an unavailable source. These sales freaks almost never leave messages and it’s highly unusual to get hang-ups two days in a row. So let me guess - a certain bastard left these hang-ups from a place cross country from his trucking company?

I was right. No doll today. Could be tomorrow, but more likely, it’ll come Monday while we’re at Melanie’s.

I fell asleep about 4 hours earlier and woke up when Tom came home. After having one of his cakes he got, I fell back asleep till he went up on the roof.

Tom just left to get me some Chinese food and to get him something from Arby’s.

Got a nice card with teddy bears from Mom with a $33 check. I asked Tom about going to the doll store today and he said we could go if I really had to, but would rather work on the roof. So, we’ll go get the doll sometime next week, along with the mice.

Spot died. The one with the tumor. I put her in one of the coffee cans I saved. She was lying at the bottom of the 3-story house they have in the big aquarium. Now I only have 7 mice. Too few.

I made a pets file in the cardfile thing. I’ve got two index cards so far. One for dates animals were bought or born. One for when they died. Spot’s birth/death dates are 11/13/1997-12/1/1998.

I called Andy to see if he wanted to talk and he said he’ll call me around 10:00.

I’m recording some Christmas music now. The DTV has a station that plays Christmas music and it’s commercial-free.

I’m now reading Smoke by Ruby Jean Jensen.

I realized something last night. It’s been a while since I had those constant dizzy spells I’d get.

Tom said he heard a medical report saying there was no connection between smokers and thinness. That’s not what I’ve heard, but that’s cool to know. I think most women are fat cuz most women have kids, and I think most guys are fat cuz most guys eat like pigs.

I printed out November’s journal and used Gloria’s pictures bordering the tops of the pages. It looks good. I printed out Gloria’s and Norah’s pictures for borders, and at some point, I’ll do family pictures, and maybe my journals too.

It didn’t rain today as they predicted, so Tom did some roofing. About two-thirds of it is done.

Later…

If Andy calls on time, and I’m sure he will, I’m gonna have to listen to him go on and on for two grueling hours. Why’s he gotta take so long to tell me about himself when he has no life to begin with, as even he admits?