Last night, at around 9 PM, I left Andy a message letting him know he could call if he wanted to talk. He was on the phone when I called, as usual, and I know he got the message shortly after I left it, cuz I called his machine to check. Not that I’m bitching, but I haven’t heard from him since. He must be pretty busy. Or else he’s mad at me for reasons I don’t know and don’t care about. I think, for the most part, he knows we’re finished when I move, so he’s probably figuring - what the hell? Why bother to go out of our way to talk when it’s just about over between us?

Yesterday I went through my makeup. Most of it I’ve had for a decade or more, so it seems, so I got rid of most of the old makeup I’ve had.

I saw a tall doll I want to get when we move if she’s still available. She’s a closed edition. There were only 300 of her ever made. Her name is Ciara and she’s 38” tall at $148.68. Her face and hair aren’t great, but better than most tall dolls seem to be. Her dress, though, is stunning. She has curly blondish hair that’s about to her waist, blue eyes, and a powder blue dress. Yeah, blue really is a popular color. It’s gorgeous, though. It’s satin with lots of pearl beads and rhinestone accents trimmed in lace. She also has a little purse and pretty lace gloves that go just above the elbow. I liked how they left some doll visible. It seems that most dolls are smothered in such full, bulky, baggy outfits, but this one is nearly sleeveless. The gown is long, but that doesn’t detract from the doll at all. She also doesn’t have a huge, tacky hat of some kind like most dolls do. What was weird about her, though, was that she had a womanly face and a womanly dress, yet she had girlie shoes. Tom said it was a nice doll, but that she had an odd expression for reasons he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

God, I really hope I can get the two Indian dolls I want from Ashton-Drake, this doll, and a realistic-looking doll from the mall store! I can’t wait to go back to that mall store! I just hope we can get most, if not all, the things we want on our list too, like a living room, bedroom, and kitchen set. A computer desk for me, etc.

OK, now for my freeloader update - the letter’s going out today as I’ve had it with next door’s shit! God, how I’ve had it! How many years now of shit from that house have I been having to listen to? Damn, I resent God for sticking this shit on me year after year! It’s become an obsession with him since 1992 and you know, it scares me. It really scares me. What’s he gonna do when we move? Tom says there won’t be stereos banging about, but yes there will. As soon as we move in God will stick them on me. Those stereos are perfectly capable of traveling from property to property out there. Someone’s teenager that’s home alone after school for a few hours or so will thump me out, and if there isn’t a regular problem with neighbor noise, there’ll be something. But at least it can’t get as close as a few feet to the house.

Anyway, I got up and was making my coffee when I heard thump, thump, thump. Not a very thrilling thing to have to wake up to. Sure enough, it was coming from the one and only infamous, notorious address next door, but amazingly, it was only for a few minutes, and sure enough Deb didn’t have a clue as to what was going on cuz she was out, but she came back in shortly after it stopped. Well, she better put two and two together real fast and figure it out, but I think I might know who the culprit is, and now there are 4 adults over there. When I say adult, I mean one that’s in their late teens. She was chubby, almost fat, with a long braid nearly to her ass. I saw her when she was out with the kids who were running up and down between the houses screaming their little asses off and I think she’s the one doing this. I’m surprised she doesn’t do it every time the van leaves, which is 2-3 times an hour. Sometimes the van stays in all night, though, but this was in the late afternoon.

Tom still plans to write the mayor and boy let me tell you, that cunt has no idea how lucky she is we’re moving, cuz if we weren’t - I’d be doing everything in my power to see that they got evicted, and that that house got sold. Sold to a white person(s). That shouldn’t be too hard, though, since freeloaders rarely can afford to buy houses and when they can, it’s not in a legal kind of way. I’d do whatever it took, be it legal letters or terrorizing the shit out of them.

I’ve simply had it with other people’s noise and I just wish they’d leave me the fuck alone!

Anyway, Tom and I had an argument earlier. We were in bed planning on screwing when I told him I doubted he’d build himself a computer desk after we move cuz I know how much he loves to talk about things versus doing them. A lot of us are like that. It’s easy for me to talk about getting down to 100 pounds, but another to do that. I’ll always be 110 pounds or more. He wasn’t too happy with my saying that, though. He says that if I tell him I know he won’t, or I don’t think he’ll do a certain thing, then that makes it harder for him to succeed. This is understandable and I intend to watch what I say from now on. Then he says that he can’t help it if the animals need food or I need books and that that delays him from making things. No wonder he never wanted a kid, I thought, but then he said he didn’t mind shuffling things around to accommodate schedules and tasks and all that.

Then he suddenly got a stress headache. Always one thing or another when we’re in bed. So I figured I ought to just get up and forget the sex since he’d just quit on me and use the headache as an excuse. He said he would’ve had sex and that the headache would’ve been fine in just a few minutes. He said, “When you say I quit in the middle of sex, well, what is the middle? What’s the beginning, what’s the end?” Well, usually the first half, maybe a little more, is spent doing side action, and the rest is on top, but what I mean by “quitting in the middle of sex” is that he’s been quitting after a few minutes a lot lately. If we’re gonna have sex, let’s just do it, I told him. Let’s stop with the constant excuses. Then he says he’s got chronic pains such as tendonitis and all that all the time. Yeah, but it’s quite a coincidence that things seem to affect him mostly in bed, I told him. Then he tried telling me that wasn’t necessary so, but I told him he ought to consider doing just side action if he’s got too many aches and pains when he goes on top, and that if he’s got any fears, he ought to admit it and deal with it. As always, though. He denies the fears. Nonetheless, maybe some of his excuses in bed are legit, but there are just so many that it’s always made me wonder.

Anyway, as I was trying to point out to him - he is how he is, and whether or not his procrastinations are intentional or not, can’t be helped, and can't be changed, he has procrastinated a lot since I’ve known him. I feel like he’s trying to pin the blame on me for it, just like he blames me for his not cumming. He doesn’t cum cuz he doesn’t want to. Period. And because it’s not in his nature. He can’t blame things that are going on in life for it, or me. I mean, he agrees I don’t control him in one breath, then tells me it’s cuz I mention it every time I mention sex (even though I don’t tell him, you’ve got to cum, or you’ll never cum, or I wish you’d cum, as I used to a lot back when I wanted a kid) and if I do mention sex at all in any way when I mention sex, it’s cuz orgasms and sex usually go hand in hand. Well, for most people they do. Anyway, I’m going to prove a point to him. The point is that we’re all set in our ways for the most part. We have ways that can’t usually be changed, even if we want them to or think they can be. For the next 3 months, I’m not going to mention cumming and I’m going to prove to him that even if I never mentioned the word again in front of him, he’ll still rarely cum and he’ll make sure that when he does, it’s at the so-called wrong time (even though I know that all the time is the wrong time for me). I’m going to prove to him that even if I never said he wouldn’t do this, or I didn’t think he’d do that, he’ll still find reasons, legit or not, to either delay things or forget about them altogether. That’s OK, though, that he’ll rarely ever cum. I guess that even though God has done his work and made his plans final, he still appreciates the dramatic cutback in cumming since I’ve said I didn’t want a kid (which gives him the perfect excuse to do what he’s never wanted to do and that is that he’s never wanted to cum with me cuz he’s never wanted me to get pregnant. He took risks a few times, though, and he would’ve been a great father if I’d conceived, but deep down, he always preferred and hoped that I didn’t) and as long as he’s happy in bed - great.

So I agreed we’d do what he wants in bed for whatever length of time he wants, even if that means too much screwing and not enough of him going down on me, and I agreed not to tell him he won’t do whatever. I’m still gonna bring this up some time in October, though, just to prove my point. It never mattered what I said or didn’t say. At least that’s what I believe. I think he’s him and that he naturally tends to procrastinate or cancel things out, and that he doesn’t want to get off with me. Whatever makes him happy and whatever’s in his nature is just how it is. And sometimes we just can’t help whatever these things are.

All’s been quiet since I got up and there’s been no barking across the street. Across the street’s company left at around 2:30 last night, but there have been 4-5 vehicles over there today, too. As long as they stay as quiet as they have.

The silver pickup didn’t leave next door till around 2:00 this afternoon. I was up yesterday from 1 PM-5 AM, and all throughout that time, the van came and went every few minutes to a little over an hour. It’s been in the same spot since I got up at 1:00 today, not surprisingly. The van seems to stay in during the early to late afternoons. It’s at night and on in till the morning that it seems to do most of its comings and goings. It’s gotta be drug runs. I think that whenever they get a call at the house, they go somewhere in particular as a drop-off point. I don’t know how much of the drugs are in the house that they take out to sell, or how much of it they go out to bring to the house, but they’re not druggies. They’re too fat for that.

Also, Tom says Fanny’s not in her 40s and is not Deb’s mom. He says she’s just a kid between 17-19 years old. Really? See, age is so hard to tell on really fat people, but he’s seen her better than I have. I haven’t seen her close up like with Deb and even her age is hard to gauge. She could be 20-something, she could be 30-something. My guess would be she’s 30-something, believe it or not, even though Mexicans usually start breeding as soon as they start menstruating.

The blue pickup pulled up in the street and honked at 10:15 last night. What? They gotta honk to announce their arrival? They can’t just go up and ring the doorbell? The pickup stayed till around 2:30 AM.

There was a car parked in front of our house which left shortly after he went to work. I don’t know if this car was connected to next door or the rental. As he was going to work, the white van that visits the rental pulled up and Black Dots got out. See, that dog doesn’t live there (fortunately). If it did, it’d be barking round the clock. The red car and the blue car are there full-time, so I’d guess they’re the ones that live there, but does anyone in this neighborhood work? As we were returning from the bookstore in the middle of the afternoon on Friday, I noticed that several blocks’ worth of driveways all had at least one vehicle in them.

The city letter’s going in next Monday for damn sure. No more chances for next door, waiting for them to settle down, or assuming/hoping they’ll be quieter. They’ve long since pushed me to the max. So far, none of the music’s been loud enough to wake me up yet, and the ranchero and the white car haven’t been back, but what’s it gonna take to get it through their thick skulls that I don’t want their music passing the walls of this house?! I don’t want to hear it! Last night I could hear soft music coming from the house while Tom was showering for work. They stopped just as he got out. Tom said it was dark and quiet over there when he left for work. It’s almost always dark over there at night no matter what the little freeloaders are up to. Anyway, I told him last night that they were testing me and that it’d escalate and get louder. I’ve been through this before with a certain black bitch and her boy toy. He said no, they’re not even thinking of you. In other words - they’re just another one of Arizona’s selfish, not considering those around them. That’s how it started off, but I tell you, she’s testing me. I know the patterns. I’ve been through it before. They back off for a few weeks, then they slowly test you to see how much you’ll put up with. They think that maybe things have changed and that you’ll put up with more of their shit. Wrong, Deb. Wrong.

I was right. Today the music did get louder. There were no cars over there either, so it was coming from inside the house. I was about to have Tom go over and tell them to shut up, but then I changed my mind for a few reasons. 1. It won’t do any good but only for maybe 3 weeks and we’ve got about 10-12 more to go here. 2. Tom said that he thinks it’s the kids doing it cuz the parents are out and that if we complain, they’ll just make sure to do it all the more when the parents are out. True. You ask people out here to turn down their music, you’re pissing them the fuck off. 3. God will get me for it. He’s already gonna make me pay for the city letter as it is.

Why me, though, huh? Why does God do this to me and why do these city bums always have to be next to me?! Doesn’t God ever get sick of the same old, same old? Oh, those fucking freeloaders! I figured out why I have respect for Indians, but none for the Mexicans and blacks. The Indians and the Jews both got shit on way back when. The Indians got their land stolen, the blacks were slaves. However, the Indians have gone on to make a life for themselves. They don’t live in the past and use the past as an excuse to do wrong like the blacks do. They don’t cry racism every time they’re caught doing something wrong or they don’t get their way. Same goes for the Jews. How many gang-banging, drug-dealing, lazy Indians do you know?

Anyway, I pity the next people in here, but maybe, just maybe, the city letter will be doing them and me a favor. I don’t know, though. I get the impression the city’s just about given up on their bums that don’t follow the rules and on those that complain about them. Some people are like that; when things get too out of hand, they just say "What the fuck" and they give up. But if the city does talk to them and if anyone from next door comes over asking why we went to the city and not to them, we don’t know anything about it. We don’t owe them any explanations and we don’t need to waste our time getting into a 20-minute discussion with them over how I already told them that if they didn’t shut the music up we’d go to the city, etc. They were already warned about what I’d do if they didn’t settle down and shut up.

Later...

The blue pickup’s there now, but I was too lazy to check and see if the van’s deep in the carport. The music spell last night and today only lasted a few minutes (there’ll be more), but the point’s the same - I don’t want to hear it, I’m sick of them and their shit, and there’s no stopping the city letter from going in now. It may not do me any good, but it’s going in. No ands, ifs, buts, or what-ifs.

I was also right about the CD-making being a bust. Tom says when we move he can do it really easily from his computer. Uh-huh, right! I’m not meant to have any more CDs made up than I’ve already got. I don’t know why, but this is just the obvious case here.

I forgot to mention that Leona, the woman at Palm Harbor, had a nice southwestern picture hanging in her office. I jokingly, yet seriously since it was a nice picture, said I’d take that as part of the deal, and she said I could have it. I’m sure she was kidding since most people don’t mean half the things they say, but I was still surprised by her response.

Later...

The blue pickup left and no vehicles are there now. When do these people sleep?! Well, just because I see the van going in and out during the day and the night doesn’t mean they’re all going out at once. Remember, there are 3 adults over there. They could be sleeping in shifts.

Tom’s masking the back room and bathroom now.

Later...

Tom just hit the sack. I might still be up when he gets up. He painted the bathroom, the hall closet, and the back room. But before he could finish the back room, much less hit the utility area, he was out of paint.

I just did something I never did before in my life - caught a spider with a tissue as it was coming down on its web. If it had been any bigger, though, I wouldn’t have had the guts. I was reaching into the kitchen to turn the light off so I could spy on next door easier when I caught a small movement out of the corner of my eye just a few inches above my head, seconds away from landing on it. At first I thought it was a mosquito, but as soon as I realized what it was, I grabbed a tissue and squished it. Or so I thought. When I went to open the tissue to check, it scurried away towards my finger, then I panicked and dropped the tissue and the spider. Once I found the damn thing on the floor, I permanently put its lights out.

I thought that the only two places it leaked were by the alcove and through the wall heater, but nope. Tom said it did leak along the back wall cuz the carpet was all wet. Thanks, God. Thanks for letting us move on and thanks for helping us help ourselves. I mean, how insulting! He watches Tom slave his ass off from up above and what’s he get for it? A roof that continues to leak. I told Tom from the get-go, though, that this roof was hexed. That means it cannot be fixed. Maybe God will let someone else fix it, but it ain’t allowed while we’re here. The question is, though, how will affect the sale of the house? I told Tom we better not tell anyone about it, but he said we could be sued if we don’t and that it’s still OK cuz the kinds of people that’d buy this house wouldn’t have a choice. Why not? There are other houses within the same price range and size. Why not get one that doesn’t leak?

Talk about people not meaning half the things they say - well, Melanie lied. Why, I’ll never know, but the more I think about it, the more I don’t buy it when she says she has naturally curly hair. Not that it matters what she has, but it takes one to know one. Her hair was curly all the way to the roots which isn’t natural. Also, I know how hard it is to straighten hair that’s naturally curly. You can curl hair easily enough, but you can’t straighten it unless you’re stripping out a perm. I really think the curls she used to have were permed and that she had the perm taken out. And she said it was “permanently straightened.” Well, that’s not possible. Hair grows. Even if she did straighten her hair, it’d grow out curly. It’s just like with dye. You can die brown hair blond, but it’ll grow out. You can get root fillers, but I’ve never heard of any such thing for straightening. And like I said, curly hairs don’t really start to curl till you get 2-3 inches down the hair. Maybe I’m wrong, though, and maybe it’s a case of it being meant to be for her and not for me. Just like some people could have invitro and have a baby and others could have it and do nothing but miscarry. Tom said that maybe I took her too literally and maybe when I asked her if it was naturally curly, and she said yes, she was being sarcastic. Didn’t sound it to me. She said it matter of factly.

A silver pickup’s been out on the street next door for several hours. I agree with Tom at this point about our very loud 5-minute concert earlier - it was the kids. So what are they gonna do? Blast us out every time mommy and daddy step out? Well, they were in and out as usual and that was the only time so far today that we heard any music. Maybe all 3 of them were out during the time the music was blaring, but someone stayed back during the rest of the ten million trips.

I have a theory as to why I haven’t seen the white car or the ranchero since I blew up on them. It’s just a theory. Anything can happen when it comes to these freeloaders, but I think that they told them, “Look. We don’t care, but our neighbors do and we don’t want to get evicted, so keep the music down.” In response, they reacted like a true Arizonan and flipped. They probably said, “Fine! Fuck it then! If we can’t blast our music, we won’t even bother coming over.” This is the type of people they’d attract as friends, too. People that are just as selfish as they are.

Like I said, anything could happen over there at any time, but during the week there should be less company and there might not be any music at all from their house. Or if there is, it should be really soft like what I heard late last night.

I thought of the perfect name for the woman I think is Deb’s mother - Fanny. After the way she mooned me when she bent over to stub out her cigarette, Fanny’s the perfect name for her. Just like I dubbed Joebitch’s father Bill, cuz he looked a little like Bill Cosby, I now have the perfect name for her. I forgot the husband’s name. It was something like Chester, so I’ll just call him that.

The renters still haven’t had a rambunctious housewarming party (although they might be acting up any minute now). Only a subsidized group of sick fucks would have that. Housewarming parties are for selfish, greedy, assholes that’ll do anything to get something for nothing from people.

Later...

Black Dots is going off now, but since he’s more than 3 feet away, he can be drowned out by the sound machine. I looked out to see what was stirring him up and saw a woman get out of a car across the street and head into the house. So, they are having company tonight. I think that last night and tonight they may’ve had friends over to see the house, but they did it in a civilized, normal, respectful way. There’s been no music or screaming at least so far. Just the dog. Not that I’m complaining, but why is it that I hardly hear the dog? Is it not here most of the time? Or could they really be letting it stay inside the house most of the time? This is only the third outburst of barking I’ve heard since they arrived 10 days ago.

Later...

Here we go again with the stunted metabolism. I woke up at 112 pounds, had nothing but a TV dinner and a bag of popcorn all day, and I still weigh 112 pounds. It shouldn’t be that way unless my metabolism has stopped up, so I did a little jogging in place which I can do for a surprisingly good length of time. I have to be either talking to Tom, watching TV, or listening to music, though, when I do it cuz it’s so boring. Sometimes I still contemplate enjoying life and the food that’s in it and not worrying about my weight, but I still hesitate to let go cuz of the expense and hassle it’d be to have to keep getting bigger clothes till I stopped gaining weight at God knows where. I kind of like to be flexible too, if I can help it, so I don’t need a huge belly in the way.

It seems the silver pickup’s all next door’s having for company tonight. So far, that is.

That car’s parked in front of our house again, and yeah, I’d say it’s definitely visiting across the street. There are about 5 vehicles there now.

I’m trying to look at this place not as the house where we live right now, but as just a place we’re staying at temporarily till we can go home. I’m trying to see it as a bad vacation. We’re temporarily held up in this sometimes noisy, too old, too small motel, but we’ll be going home soon to our big, modern, quiet home. This is just a house. As far as I’m concerned, it’s always been just a house. But when we move, we’ll be home.

I’m not looking forward to tonight. Especially if they decide to forget about my warning to them and have company blast in and out like they might do. After a while, people figure - what the fuck? And think they can suddenly get away with shit. Well, they’re wrong. Dead wrong. And if I have to contact the city, I will.

Last night the wild animals came out at 8:30 (they had probably just gotten up) and were zipping up and down alongside the house for a couple of hours screaming like a bunch of little psychos. Anyway, they can scream, but they cannot bass. Remember that, Debra and associates.

Andy finally called and left a message. A little later in the week than I expected, but I knew he’d call eventually. His excuse for not bringing the pants over was that it was too hot and his AC doesn’t work. I don’t know if these pants exist or not, but I told him I had forgotten about the pants till he mentioned it (I meant it when I said I wasn’t gonna give him the reaction he expected/wanted which would’ve been about how I had to take time out during our busy weekend to check on pants). This time he didn’t mention, for the third weekend in a row, bringing the pants over. He says he’s been working at the temp agency and doing things with Michelle. He also wants to see the changes in here before we move. I gently tried to back him off till we can get out of here by telling him that his timing’s lousy for favors and that he or Michelle can sew the button themselves, but that I would do it if I had to. I also told him that although we’re busiest on weekends, we’re busy during the week too, since we do stuff around here in between his working and sleeping. Lastly, the only real changes that are obvious right away when you walk in here are the repainted walls and the packed boxes, and that I really wasn’t up to company while we’re still here, and all this is true. Hopefully, this will back him off, but I don’t think so. I think I’m gonna have to see this smelly space cadet one more time.

Here we go with the weekend company. And they’re early, too. I didn’t expect them to arrive until well after dark. The furniture truck just pulled up in the street next to the white pickup that’s now there, too. This is the same truck that delivered the stereo boxes, so see? It is someone who knows them as I suspected. They obviously knew them enough just now to park on the street and not the driveway, cuz they know the van has gotta come and go a million times. Why can’t these fucking freeloaders go elsewhere for a change, though, huh?!

Later...

At just before 5:00, the furniture truck left, but the pickup is still there. Looks like the animals are out early, though. Yeah, well, I’ve got my sound machine going cuz I’m sure they’ll be out there pretty late into the night. I think the reason they act like they work and they act up more on weekends is cuz they figure they can get away with it easier on weekends. They probably figure everyone else around them is up later on weekends too, so they won’t complain.

We went to the bookstore today. I got one book plus 3 sets of 5 V.C. Andrews books. She writes series that are similar to soap operas. Drama, suspense, that’s how I’d describe her. I read a series of hers years ago and loved it, so I’m anxious to read what she’s written ever since. She has a ton of books. I’m gonna see if I can get a full title list online, and see if John Saul’s got anything new cooking.

Last night I was a bit down, but fortunately, those days are few and far between compared to the old days. My reasons for being down were quite petty too, compared to my reasons in the past. It was just over the moving. Don’t get me wrong - I’m thrilled to be moving. But can we really time everything? Will things work out OK? Or will we end up struggling like we used to?

Tom was trying to tell me that moving would be the catalyst that’d cause more change for the better. I’ve been down that road before; thinking that doing something new would change things and it didn’t. I don’t need things to change for the better. They’re good enough as they are. But I don’t ever want things to change for the worse. I don’t ever, for example, as I told Tom, want to find myself wanting a kid again. The kid I can’t have no matter what technology exists and no matter what our sex life is like. Then Tom turned around and for the millionth time, he implied that the sex would change. Why? Just because we move? I’ve heard this a million times before from him and I don’t think so! It doesn’t have to change, though, as long as he never reverts back to the game playing, which he hasn’t done in a long time and which I greatly appreciate. As long as I don’t want to try for a kid there shouldn’t be any games. When I say games, I mean the I-forgot-how-to-go-in-there kinds of games. I don’t need my head played with like that. Ever. And as long as I don’t want to try for a kid, his making sure he never cums at that so-called right time is fine with me.

He told me that just like I didn’t know I’d quit smoking, other things will happen that I don’t know about, like the possibility of my getting on a schedule. It’s still hard for me to believe certain things could ever happen just because I was surprised a few times.

Later...

The green/blue pickup has arrived. The weekend has arrived. Damn! Well, I’ll love weekends when we move, but please God, just hold these people off till we move. I should know better than to even dare ask God this. They’ve been quiet so far, but I said so far. If they feel the need to scream and howl like the outcasts they are - fine. Let them make fools of themselves if they want. Let them make people embarrassed for them. But God help them if that ranchero or that white car shows up to cause trouble.

Tom got more boxes today and some recordable CDs. He agreed to make me a few CDs, but they won’t come out. I just know it won’t work. Maybe one of them will, but you know how it always was with audio CD making - hit or miss, but mostly miss.

Later...

The blue pickup left. Let me guess - it’ll be right back.

Later...

Just looked out and saw that the blue pickup was back, but it was pulling out along with the white pickup. They’ll be back in a few. The question is, though, who’ll return with them and how much of it will I have to hear? I want to concentrate on reading, Goddamnit!

Tom went through the numbers again and it looks like we may be paying more when we move. Not less like we hoped. Well, life isn’t about getting what we plan or hope for for the most part, but he says it’s still worth it and I agree. He says we can afford it as long as he makes at least $10 an hour. Fuck you, you fucking interest rates! You just had to go up now. You couldn’t have waited just a few more lousy months! Anyway, I offered to get a smaller, cheaper house, but he still says we can get the one we want. Of course, there are other things we can do to save money. For example, except for Caller ID, we’re not gonna need 3-way, call waiting, and extra services like that. I can always quit collecting dolls too, after I get the ones I want upon moving IF I get the ones I want upon moving.

I just hope everything works out. You know me; always a worrywart. As soon as he’s given the check for 2,200 (our stock sold) at work, we’re gonna lock in the 60-day deal that Tom almost locked in when we were at the Palm Harbor place. We should get the check in a week or two, then we’ll have 60 days from there to sell the house, find the land, have them build the house, and move. Can we do it? Will God help us and allow us to time all this? He’s had great timing with me and the events of my life for the most part. I trust Tom’s knowledge of how all this works, but at the same time, I know how he can overestimate things.

I also find myself feeling bad, and a little bit guilty at times, that I didn’t push myself years ago to be able to maintain a schedule and get/hold a steady job. Even though I’m doing much more than I used to, I sometimes still feel I don’t do enough. Tom feels I work enough and he’s never tried to change me as far as that goes. I really appreciate this and I know that most women would kill to be in my shoes; having a man that’s OK with her not working and her crazy schedule. And most would envy the freedom I’ve got.

The blue/green pickup is parked out on the street right now (to let the van in and out). Fortunately for all of us, though, they’ve been behaving well enough since our little chat and escaped another week of the city letter going out. I’ll still keep it while we’re here, just in case, then if it never gets used, I’ll put a label over the address and use it for a letter to Paula.

Still no call from Andy, and I’m not the least bit surprised. I figured as much when the weekend passed with no calls/pants. That’s because he’s now waiting for me to call him and be like, where are the pants? Well, when he sees this doesn’t happen, he’ll eventually wear down and call me, and when he does, I forgot all about it as far as he’ll be concerned. A small part of me is like - maybe he’s hurt somewhere. Just because I’m tired of him and no longer want him to be a part of my life doesn’t mean I want him to be hurt. But I know better. He’ll call any time after today.

The renters have been quiet. No dogs, no music, no kids, no door slamming, etc. It’s a little too soon to praise them that much, cuz I’ve noticed that people tend to wait a week or two after they’ve moved to get settled in and then they make a ruckus. We’ll see, though. I don’t have a bad feeling about them, but God didn’t put them next door to me, either.

I’ve been having 1500-2000 calories lately and it’s starting to catch up to me. I woke up at 112 pounds, so I’ve decided to cut my daily food intake down a bit. I’m trying to keep it around the 1000 marker, but it’s soooooo hard. What is this shit? I can quit smoking, but I can’t lose weight? Jesus! Wasn’t it always the other way around? How did I get such superhuman strength to quit smoking and how did I turn into such a wimp when it comes to losing weight? Will I ever have the willpower to get down to 100 pounds? Obviously not. And even if I could get down there at the snap of my fingers, I know I’d be back to around 110 in less than a week. Holding around 110 is fairly easy, but to drop my weight lower than that and hold it there is another story.

I looked for that Indian doll on that doll show, but they didn’t have it. I guess that’s good, though. It’d make no sense to be finding the perfect doll now at a time when it’s too soon to be buying dolls. I’m not gonna start hunting dolls on the doll show till we move, and when I do, I’m hoping it’ll be a doll that’s between 36-42 inches. So, my new goal is to aim for getting a tall doll, a real-looking doll, and those two Indian dolls from the Ashton-Drake catalog when we move, and maybe a kit doll, too. If not, I can always get the kit with any birthday/Christmas money I may get.

Mickey’s still hanging in there. He’s one tough rat. But the tumor is getting bigger. Fortunately, though, the other rats, the pig, and the mice all seem healthy.

Katie and Ashley are direct opposites. Ashley sleeps most of the time, doesn’t wheel, doesn’t play with the crinkle papers, etc. Katie, though, is really active. She wheels and plays even in the daytime. But I try to see animals as I do kids - once you have them, like them or not, want them or not, you’re committed till the end as long as no one’s life is in danger.

Just the other day I was realizing how we’ve been at an all-time low for stereos banging by. The longest stretch ever. And of course, just as I made this notation in my head, someone blasted by really, really loud. As loud as these stereos can go. It would’ve woken me up for damn sure.

Despite how wonderful Tom is, he is only human, so he isn’t flawless. He gets on my nerves at times when he gets needlessly defensive. I asked him if I looked bigger. He said no, but I look like I may be getting a little watery. I then said it was too soon for that. That’s all I said. But then he had to go on about how he was just answering my question. Yeah, so? What’s that got to do with my comment? All I was doing was commenting on his answer, not chewing him out for answering my question.

Now for my best news of the day - despite the increase in interest rates, the house we want looks promising. Same goes for getting the furniture we want. Maybe dreams really do come true after all. They weren’t kidding when they said that some of life’s best things aren’t planned. Not only did I certainly not plan on Tom, but I never dared dream of having the house/land we’re gonna have, let alone the computer, the dolls, so many animals, a stereo like I’ve got, etc. I wasn’t supposed to quit smoking, go to California, or be put in stereo either, as far as I was concerned for most of my life. So, we may get what we plan on getting if we’re lucky enough, but boy do we really get what we don’t plan on getting! We first talked with a woman named Leona. She was nice, but a bit pushy, nosy, and full of questions like all salespeople are (this guy kept popping in, too), but as Tom said, I think we’re gonna be buying a house from them. The ride was long, but not too bad at all. I handled it well and took the little computer and played some tiles games along the way. It took about 35 minutes to get to their place in Apache Junction. We saw three models. The first one was my favorite. The rooms were a little smaller than I remembered, but I’d rather have smaller rooms than fewer bigger rooms. Who needs a big bedroom anyway, although it did help when we had two beds in the huge bedroom we have here. We might put two twin beds side by side like I think we should’ve done in the first place when we move and stick the big bed in the guest room, but we’ll see. I still love Tom no matter where we sleep, but I’ll see what he wants to do when it comes time to get furniture. The master bedroom’s not as big as this one here is, and the other bedrooms are smaller than the music room (I still call it that even though Desert Dreams is out of there). The second model we saw sucked. It was a 3 bedroom with no retreat or family room. It was so open, too. The third one was pretty nice, even though it was only a 3 bedroom. It had no retreat, but it had a family room. It had a lot of cool archways and beams for plants or whatever someone wanted to put up on them. For some reason, this one was more expensive than my favorite one. Guess it was cuz of its construction. My favorite model was cheaper than I thought. I thought its base price was $68,000, but after Leona calculated the base price, along with our chosen options (they didn’t have too many options) it came to around $62,000. Options like the island in the kitchen, all-electric, R38 insulation, a skylight, 40-gallon water heater, glamour bath, 60” shower in the second bath, the retreat room door, ice maker, and vinyl in the kitchen and the bathrooms. Although I decided I’d rather have the bathrooms carpeted. It’d be better than having bath rugs. I was surprised to learn that it comes with valances for the windows but no blinds. Also, I was surprised that dual-paned windows, garbage disposals, dishwashers, heat pumps, and sliding glass doors were options. What about a washer and a dryer? That’s not on the list she made for us. She recommended we get our own decorative wall borders cuz theirs are outrageously expensive. Well, I appreciate her honesty, but it’s too bad I can’t get that for the kitchen. We’re gonna have to put the mural up, and that alone may be a bitch. Especially with those wallboards that have strips sealing the gaps every 6 feet or so. It may detract from how the mural looks, but hopefully not too much, and hopefully it won’t make it all the harder to put up. There are little things you can get for a buck. We can have the bedrooms and the living room and family room, which will be our pet room and exercise room, wired and braced for ceiling fans. I’ll probably sleep with the fan on during the hotter months, and the sound machine on during the cooler months. I won’t have to have them blaring, though, but it’s nice to have some steady background noise. That way the animals and Tom’s movements won’t bother me.

We just had an oh-my-God kind of storm! I’ve never seen it that windy or dump that much rain on us in ages! I had a bad feeling about it. One that said I don’t have the luxury of just sitting through a storm. I have to be up and about to play Leak and Bucket. Sure enough, the back room wall heater’s leaking, and there’s a spot that’s leaking by the alcove. Hopefully, it won’t get worse than that, but I don’t know. This storm was so fierce that every house had to have some sort of leaking. It also leaked through the living room window a bit cuz the storm was coming towards the front of our house. It rained in sheets! There were foot-wide sheets of rain coming off the roof and unbelievable wind, and for the most part, it was all lightning and no thunder. There was some thunder but not enough to wake Tom up and not enough to wake me up either, had I been asleep. Typically, it’d start off with a dust storm where the sky’s all brownish colored and it just gets suddenly really windy. Then the sky would turn gray and dump rain. We’ve had this for 3 nights in a row now (the humidity/monsoons sure are early this year) but we haven’t had anything like tonight in ages. It was kind of scary being in this old hexed house and it hadn’t leaked in here in a while. I’ll probably be wondering if the roof’s gonna leak whenever it rains long after we’ve moved. I know how well old patterns and hexes have a way of following us. The question is, though - how many more times is this house gonna leak while we’re still here? And will it interfere with us trying to sell it?

Yesterday’s sex went from boring and too predictable to an exciting change of pace. His excuse of choice this time around was allergies, but I know it was fear. I still don’t know why he’s so afraid to address and deal with his fear of me conceiving after having no problem at all admitting to his phobia of dentists, but that’s his problem, isn’t it?

Anyway, the boring, predictable part was when he quit in the middle of sex before even getting on top. The exciting change of pace came when he went down on me and got me off, too. I was almost convinced he’d never go down on me again!

Shiny’s still missing and we both feel it’s more than likely that the little guy’s dead and not held up somewhere. I feel guilty in a couple of ways and very bad for Tom. The ways I feel guilty over it are that I didn’t take the time to try to make him an indoor cat which would’ve been safer (Tom has a point, though, when he said that that was never an option for us), and for wishing at times that that whiny cat would disappear.

Later...

I did some singing a little while ago with the speakers blaring and I don’t give a shit if next door heard it or not. In fact, I kind of hope they did, but I know better. If my music was hard to hear through the music room window, then it certainly couldn’t be heard through the bedroom windows with the sound blocks that are in them. That Mormon woman told me she couldn’t hear it when I once asked her about it. Anyway, last night turned out to be OK. The pickup returned at around 11:00, then left shortly after. The only time the dog across the street went off was last night. Ever since then, I haven’t seen or heard it. I think it was only here temporarily. Probably belonged to someone helping them move in. It couldn’t have been here all day, cuz there’s no way they’d keep a dog inside their house all day. Especially one that large. If it had been here all day, it would’ve been outside and we’d have heard it. I wonder, though, was that our last holiday here? Somehow, I doubt it was.

Tom said not to leave next door a note (I had contemplated leaving them a note thanking them for keeping the music down). Good or bad, notes out here are a bad thing, he says. He says they’re impersonal and not respectful, not that I give a shit about being personal and respectful to this asshole. I don’t get the respectful part of it, but no wonder that bitch mentioned leaving “little notes” in the way she did when she was running off her little list of things to me that pissed her poor black ass off. I always wondered why she acted as if I left her dead rats, rather than notes. I guess both the note and the content of the note really had that bitch in a frenzy! Anyway, I’m not gonna leave the note not just for Tom’s reasons, but for my own. I thought about it and then was like - why should I? Why should I thank them for something they’re supposed to be doing anyway? I’m not gonna thank them for not being outrageously noisy like they were a few weeks ago. People shouldn’t be credited for doing things they’re supposed to be doing anyway. I owe those fat freeloaders nothing as far as I’m concerned!

We were also talking about the different cultures within the Southwest and the Northeast. I naturally clash with people no matter where I go, but there are some differences out here that you won’t find back east. People are people no matter where you go, but we were talking about how people in the East use ATM machines less often. They tend to argue with people more and be more aggressive. They honk horns at each other more. It seems to me people out here are also more spiteful and vindictive.

Andy. Now that’s someone I could do without. My suspicions are ringing truer by the moment about his not really intending to drop off the pants, but intending to make me take time out of my weekend and out of my relationship that he’s so jealous of to go check for his fucking pants. No calls or pants all weekend. That little fuck! I mean, I’m so sick of this little shit’s immature games! Hasn’t he got anything else better to do with his time? Instead, he has to play control games with me. He just has to manipulate me. He just can’t accept my not wanting him to butt into my weekends. Well, people that can’t accept others get dumped, don’t they? Soon, Andy, soon! Oh, the kick he must get out of knowing he made me do something (check for messages/pants) on a weekend. Anything to be thought of and acknowledged in any way he can by me on the weekends. Well, I’m not gonna give him the reaction he wants, which would be to call him any time now to ask why the pants I looked out for never came. I’m not gonna play this game with him every weekend, and if he asks about it, I’m just gonna tell him I forgot all about it and forgot to even look for them. I’m not gonna bother calling him for a while. Let him wonder what’s going on for a change. I’m not playing phone or games with the little fuckaroo!

Tom painted the bedroom ceiling today, and parts of the utility area and the back room. He also packed some stuff and cut down the very tall grass out back so he can pick up roofing shit that was in the yard. I know Tom, though. He’ll put off picking up roofing till the grass grows back again and he has to cut it down again.

I had Katie out today. She’s so cute. She’s addicted to wheeling, so I can take her out while she’s on her wheel and set her down somewhere and she’ll just keep on wheeling away. She does hop off to explore somewhat, but she prefers to just keep on wheeling as if she’s still home! I had Porky out too. I try to rotate among the animals.

We plan on going to the bookstore on Friday, and tomorrow, we’re going to Palm Harbor’s factory and then to pick up some groceries. They just raised interest rates, of all fucking times to do so, but Tom says it shouldn’t hurt us and that we still have a shot at that model we want. I don’t know. It just seems so unlikely that God would allow me the house I want and the quietness I want. I just can’t picture it, but maybe my luck will change for the better, even if it means not getting out of here fast enough. Once again, we’re talking about a material thing that I can handle.

I don’t have bad vibes concerning next door, but my logic says there’ll be enough of a party to have me very annoyed. It may not be like their housewarming party was, but bad enough still.

Let me get into other things before I bitch about how much I’m not looking forward to dealing with antics from next door.

We got new renters across the way here. I’ve seen a red car, a blue car, a truck, and a van. All vehicles were in so-so condition from what I could see. Nothing too nice and new, but no old junkers, either. What I saw was enough to tell me that they’re duplicates of the other renters. They’re no doubt young, the type to party, have a lot of company, play loud music, etc. They even have a dog. Or so I thought. Yesterday I saw a large dog, possibly a Dalmatian, at the chain-link fence at the side of their house, but neither of us has seen or heard it since. This tells me that it probably belonged to one of the people helping them move in. They’ve been quiet so far, but they just moved in. Neighbors are always quiet the first week or so. At least this housewarming party will be across the street, although I don’t know that they’ll have one. I’ve noticed that it’s only the subsidized scum that has housewarming parties, but if I was too lazy to work, didn’t mind noise and city living, and if I could swipe a free house and much more from the taxpayers, I’d probably be in the mood to throw a party myself.

Tom’s doing some back room packing right now. He got a new sprayer to make the painting less messy, cuz he was getting paint in his ears, his nose, and everywhere (I took a picture of him with paint all over his face). All that’s left to paint is the bedroom ceiling, the bathroom, the utility area, and half of the back room. He also still has to do the outside trim and put that kick-ass primer on any wall art that’s still showing through.

Woke up from quite a wild dream. I guess I was back east since the houses seemed old and huge. Me and some guy broke into a house we thought was empty. As we were on our way out, a car pulled up. As we hid in a huge box at the very front of the house on the porch, I told him we’d run for it as soon as the person was deeper into the house. A woman came in and passed the room we were in. As soon as she did, we booked outside for the car we came in. I flew down the stairs which seemed to go on forever, then I threw myself into the passenger seat of the car. The guy was behind me and he didn’t quite make it. Something like 3 people came out of the house, beat him up, and threw him in the backseat of the car. I was terrified they were gonna get me next. The guy was still conscious enough to give me the keys, and I scooted over behind the wheel, threw the key in the ignition, and zoomed away. I drove nervously for what seemed to be quite a while. I was trying to pick a good spot to pull over and so we could catch our breath when I woke up.

I’m stunned not to have heard from Andy yet, but the weekend’s not over yet. If I don’t get those pants by Tuesday, then I’ll be seriously wondering if he’s not just playing games with me. Anything to butt into my weekends! This is something he may do too, if he suspects I’m gonna dump him. He’d either do things to get all the attention he could knowing our friendship was nearing its end, or he’d back off and hope I’d keep him in my life, feeling that he wasn’t such a pest after all.

I saw The Gallery of Dolls the other night. They had some baby dolls that were more realistic than Bailey, but they were vinyl. I was shocked, though, to see them have anything so real-looking and for only $30. They had a couple of dolls in beautiful pink dresses with pretty pink flowers, but they had boring faces and hair. They had one doll doing a handstand. That’s different. When are they gonna have a doll with braces? That’d be unique, too. During the doll show, I saw a commercial for a doll show I’ve never seen before that’s to be on Tuesday and I can’t wait! They showed a gorgeous Indian doll. She may be too small and too expensive, though. I’m hoping there’ll be at least $1,000 for us each when we move to blow on whatever we want. My current plan is to get the doll kit with any birthday/Christmas money, and to get two Indian dolls from the Ashton-Drake catalog I like, a tall doll from the home shopping channel, a real-looking doll from the mall, and maybe that Indian doll I saw that’s to be on Tuesday’s show.

Ashton-Drake sent me their latest catalog yesterday. They now have a Rapunzel bride. Her hair was in a long braid to her feet. She was nice, but I could make my own variety of Rapunzel dolls all with the Rapunzel doll I’ve already got if I wanted to.

A silver pickup stood overnight parked on the street in front of next door Friday night. I thought, here we go again. Back to the company scene. However, it was broken down. Early yesterday morning, a blue car came and gave it a jump, then both cars left. I was surprised. Usually, they come and go a dozen times before leaving for good. This was all I saw in the way of vehicles and people (except for the van) till the rental truck pulled in. From what we could see, they’re renting a kick-ass stereo like mine. Great. Just what I need. Tom said that as he was coming in yesterday, he heard soft music coming from the house. So soft, it couldn’t be heard in here. That’s all gonna change now if I’m wrong about my city threats scaring them. Well, like I said, this weekend should either disprove my theory about my making them nervous about making noise or prove it all the more.

These people are unfuckingbelievable, though! They don’t work, yet they can afford a van, they can afford to rent a stereo, they can afford the many kids they never should’ve had, they get a free house, and they don’t have to lift a finger to do one day’s worth of work. Unfuckingbelievable!

I decided that seeing this was the final straw to having my stereo in the music room. Without the sound blockers in there, I just felt too vulnerable in there. Like my presence in there would enhance the chances of any antics from over there. So, I moved my stereo into the bedroom where the sound blocks are. I’ve noticed that the less I’m in the music room, the less noise I get from over there. It’s almost like something up there knows when I’m in there and I just never felt comfortable in there. So, from here on out, I’ll hardly ever go in there.

At first I tried to tell myself not to worry since my stereo can’t be heard over there, and we’ve got single-paned windows, but you see, I don’t leave the windows open. They do.

It’s great having both speakers hooked up again, but nonetheless, if I’m gonna be forced to listen to music, it’s gonna be my own. I’m also gonna try to take whatever God dishes out to me while I’m still here, cuz you know what I believe. Crazy or not, I can’t help what I believe, and that’s that if I fight what God has in store for me, I have to pay for it. Even though I think my threats and our talk next door were a good thing, and I had a good vibe over it, I was depressed for 3 days after our little chat. Gee, I wonder why! You can’t fight God and win and you can’t fight God and get away with it. So, unless it’s really, really bad, or waking me up, I’m just gonna take what I get while I’m still here. In just a few more months, my days of having to set up my own home according to how others live will be over!

Later...

Fuck! Next door’s gearing up for a barbecue and there is a dog across the way that’s barking its ass off. Well, that’s what the sound machine is for. Anything’s better than bass. The blue/green pickup showed up at 5:00. It just pulled out and parked on the street to let the van out, then a guy got out of the pickup carrying a fuel tank for the grill. Great. Just great. And I know damn well that one vehicle for company won’t be all. It’s not enough for these people. When these people party, they party. There’ll be a dozen more vehicles to come and God knows how much music. See what I mean, though? They all have to come here. Why can’t these people go somewhere else for a change? Don’t they know anyone else with a house?

Tom said he heard music on and off from where he was sitting at the computer, but he said you could hardly hear it and that he couldn’t be sure it was coming from next door. Well, we’ll be hearing plenty of music from over there. Just give it time. The next 6-7 hours are going to be anything but peaceful.

Tom said that they’d probably start with the company and all that at 2:00, but I figured they’d wait till sundown. They’re night and day people, but they do prefer nights from what I’ve seen. Nonetheless, some partying is acceptable. It is a holiday, they are quiet most of the time, and we shouldn’t be here too many more months, but of course, I said that last January and we’re still here, so who knows. We may be celebrating my birthday here! Tom, though, says no way will I turn 34 here and that everything is going pretty much as planned. He said he always felt we wouldn’t be out of here till July or August. I don’t sense us moving in August. Right now, logic and vibes tell me September or October is more likely.

On Tuesday, we might go talk to the people at Palm Harbor to see if they can tell us what we qualify for, etc.

Tom was online checking what houses on this street and its surrounding streets have sold for lately, and we were astonished to learn that a house up on W. Weldon sold for $107,000! It must be bigger than your average house around here, although around here, they all look the same. Little squares. Maybe, it had 2 baths and a pool and was remodeled. It had to have something extraordinary about it for it to sell at that price. Your average house in Phoenix sells at $80,000.

Later...

The van’s still out and the pickup’s the only vehicle here still. It’s early, though. It’s only just after 7:00 and the sun’s still up. They don’t peak till around 10:00 over there.

I was wrong. I just quickly ran and checked and the van is here. Deep in the carport. Makes sense. Gotta make room for all those vehicles to come.

Yesterday was a depressing day. I was balling my eyes out for a minute there cuz it looked like Mickey was dying. We both thought he was on his way out. He was belly up, appearing to have a hard time breathing. However, after a few hours, he was his usual self, but he still doesn’t look healthy. He never did. We’re both surprised he made it this long and don’t expect him to hold out much longer. Well, I’ll enjoy whatever time he has left.

Neither of us has seen Shiny for a few days. The last time I saw him he was in one of his many fights with his daddy whom I chased off. Shiny wouldn’t wander off this long on his own will. I fear that someone’s got him inside their house where he can’t get out (if this is so, I hope they’re good to him), or he was killed. I can’t say I’ll miss skinny whiny Shiny all that much, but I feel bad for Tom. That was Tom’s cat. He loved that cat like I love Ratsy and Mickey.

Later...

Next door’s barbecue smells wonderful. I’m surprised they’re eating before all their guests arrive, though. Well, it is kind of late for dinner, and also, I’m sure it’s an eat-as-you-arrive sort of deal. I was also surprised at how quiet the voices were over there. I heard a few scattered soft adult voices. No kids.

The pickup just left, but it’ll be right back. It’s obvious they’re dealers.

I hope to see some pretty fireworks going off in the neighborhood tonight. With my luck, next door will shoot firecrackers at the house.

The pickup’s back. See, what did I tell you? Do I know these people now, or what? Two guys came back, empty-handed, after only being out for 3 minutes. That spells drug run to me. Well, it’s their lives and their bodies. I just feel bad for those kids. I mean, I know they’re gonna grow up to be waste products, using the taxpayers’ money to sit on their ass so they can watch TV and do drugs all day and all night. It doesn’t take my being psychic to know that.

Later...

I just got a better look at the dog across the street. It is a Dalmatian and it’s yipping its ass off. But why didn’t I hear it till now? I know the thing’s gotta have been outdoors ever since it got here. Most dog owners don’t allow their dogs indoors. If this dog’s my compensation for the lack of the white car and ranchero banging it (not that they might not do that any sec now), I’ll take it. If this is what I get for rebelling against what God “ordered” for me and for going over there and bitching them out, fine. I’ll gladly take a dog that’s across the street and not 3 feet away over bass any day.

Just saw a little boy dart out onto the driveway. So, they’ve unleashed the kids for the night, huh? I’ve got the fans on, so I can’t hear dogs, voices, or screaming, but I can hear if anyone bases in.

Later...

Next door’s now out of sound, but not out of sight. I threw on my cordless headphones for my temper’s sake. No, they’re not doing anything too unacceptable or that calls for the letter to the city to be mailed out, but I don’t want to hear all the unruly little animals screaming, zipping up and down the length of our house. They’re screaming bloody murder, and of course, everyone else around here is acting like normal, civilized people. Only the Mexicans and blacks that have to be next to me, are into the melodramatics. There’s not one light on over there, either. See? They prefer to party at night, in the dark.

To my utter astonishment, the pickup’s still the only vehicle there still. I did hear some music, but so far, and I repeat, so far, it’s been at a reasonable volume. The sun’s just about totally set, and as it nears 10:00 and is dark for a while, this increases the chances of them going over the line and becoming totally unacceptable, which also ups the chance of me going off on them. So, to keep my temper in check, I’ve got the headphones blaring in my ears now. Tom, who’s asleep now and asked me to wake him up later, told me to wake him up if there’s a problem.

For now, I’m gonna assume that after tonight, they’ll go back to being quiet like they usually are and that tonight’s only cuz it’s the 4th. God, just please let us out of here before Labor Day! I don’t know about that, though. Still, what are these clowns doing celebrating this country’s birthday? Why don’t they go down to Mexico and celebrate birthdays there where they belong? That’s their country.

Later...

Every so often I go into the music room and listen for a sec. It’s my curious nature, I guess, to want to hear what they’re up to at the same time I don’t want to know they exist. Still no other cars, and there weren’t any voices or music just now when I checked.

I won’t wake Tom up for the fun we agreed to have till around midnight, give or take an hour or two, cuz they probably won’t be settling down till then. Just because I didn’t hear anything during the few seconds I just checked, doesn’t mean there won’t be bouts of noise. However, if I’m right about my making them nervous about going to the city if they don’t shut up, especially if they do want to stay there and they do have people living there that aren’t supposed to be there, tonight shouldn’t get out of hand like the housewarming party did, and it shouldn’t go on all night, either.

Later...

Now that was weird. I just went out back to hear what I could hear in the way of people or firecrackers, but it was dead quiet. Dead quiet! No voices, no dogs, no firecrackers. All I heard was the train and a whir of ACs. I guess the firecrackers won’t be till between 9:00-9:30 anyway. I’ll de-headphone and go out just after 9:00.

Black Dots across the street quit going off (I don’t sense he’ll be a problem. Not like the collies are). And there’s still just the pickup over there. If the ranchero and the white car are gonna show up tonight, though, they won’t be here till between 10:00-11:00.

So far, my not having bad vibes makes sense, and I was right about them not coming alive till after dark.

Later... 

Saw some pretty, colorful fireworks off in the distance. I tried taking pictures, but they didn’t come out.

The pickup left at 9:00 and there have been no other vehicles since. I don’t sense the white car or the ranchero, but if they’re coming tonight, they’ll be here soon.

I was amazed at how quiet it was out there when I was watching the fireworks. Not even the collies were going off, but I could hear dogs and voices in the distance (I still have the headphones on in here, though, cuz I feel more comfortable with them). Just a few scattered faint adult voices would come from next door while I was out there. No music. No firecrackers. I could be wrong, but I really believe tonight was as mellow as it was compared to the housewarming party because of our talk. I really think there’d have been much more in the way of music tonight if we hadn’t talked and that they’d be outside yelling all night long. If this is the case, I really appreciate them for caring enough to simmer down. Most people just don’t give a shit. Again, it may not be cuz they care, but cuz of the house. Well, whatever it takes. If that’s it - great.

Oh, bullshit! How can tampons have bleach and asbestos, and cause more bleeding, and infertility in females and males?! This is what Evie’s saying, but they don’t cause me to bleed more, and my infertility (regardless as to whether or not there’s anything visibly wrong with me that a doctor could pick out) was caused by God, long before I ever began using tampons. However, I’m considering not using tampons anymore cuz of the risk of TSS syndrome and other bacterial infections you can get since tampons trap in moisture and aren’t very natural. I may as well quit while I’m still ahead and lucky enough to have escaped any problems. I still can’t believe all I’ve had for female problems are yeast infections! I’m sexually hexed, and have no rights to my reproductive system, so why hasn’t God had me have one female problem after another on top of it all? I mean, it just seems totally like something he’d do. Besides, my periods are short and light compared to most women and all I really need is liners. It’s not like I’m dancing in a G-string or like I need anything when I swim. I can swim with nothing even when I’m at my so-called fullest flow since it’s lighter than most women’s.

Later...

Tom will be home any minute with the groceries. Till then, I’ll write.

I was so frustrated and pissed off earlier trying to lay down tracks for Tom to make a few CDs for me. I was like - can I ever do anything without problems?! But after a while, I figured it out.

Haven’t heard the mouth or any music, but I saw a white Cadillac go in and out next door yesterday, and am still amazed by the overall company cut-down since they first arrived. It’s to be humid and between 106º-107º this weekend, but will that stop them from partying just outside our windows here? I doubt it. They may not party during the daylight, but why not party after sundown? I’m sure there’ll be some sort of music scene from over there, as well as lots of company. You know how it is with the subsidized houses - everyone has to go there for events. The people in the subsidized houses can’t take their parties elsewhere. Daytime is less likely for them to party, although anything can happen over there, day or night. Remember, these people don’t have a schedule. They’re up day and night! When do they sleep?

Anyway, this weekend ought to prove or disprove my latest belief, which is that I scared them into shutting up with my threats about going to the city and pushing for eviction. As we know, it’s most people’s nature to say the opposite of what they really feel. Deb may’ve said my threats and temper wouldn’t get me anywhere when in fact she knew it would, and I believe it just may have. Think about it. There’s been no white car or ranchero or noise of any kind from over there, other than a few scattered voices, horns, and car doors since I threatened eviction and maybe they do mind getting evicted. Well, it’d make sense to me that if I were trying to buy a house and was currently renting from the city, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that and I would think about settling down if someone mentioned going to the city about me and my associates being noisy. So, right now, I think they decided not to take risks and not to bother stirring me up so they could have the house, and that’s why things have been quieter. They know we know they rent from the city. That’s all they need to know we know.

Tom’s got an abscessed tooth bothering him, but he won’t go to the dentist cuz he has a phobia of dentists. I just hope it doesn’t come down to a case of do-or-die for him. He’s had fillings done before, so it’s not like he’s never gone to a dentist before.

Got a boring Bob letter, but fortunately, I don’t get too many of those these days.

I forgot to mention all the bottles that were sadly scattered throughout some parts of the areas we checked out when we went land hunting. It was pretty disgusting. Just like city litter. Some of it was teenagers partying, but some, Tom reminded me later, was for target practice. He said he forgets I’m not from here at times, and reminded me that the more secluded you go, the more likely you are to hear gunfire. It’s perfectly legal outside the city limits to do that. There’s enough open space for it.

A guy at work who used to own land out there told Tom quite a horror story about some guy with some unruly cattle. Fortunately, though, this can’t happen to us where we’re going cuz there won’t be cattle around. You can only have so many animals per acre. This guy had more acres than we’ll ever have. Anyway, some guy with cattle let his cattle roam on some other guy’s property. As is usually the case when you ask someone to do something they should be doing anyhow, he got nowhere by asking him to keep his herd to himself. But he did get shot and he did get his house torched. It’s a damn good thing those blacks never shot me and torched our house! I mean, why not? I only asked them for a reasonable request. I only asked them politely. Anyway, isn’t that a classic Arizonan? These people just can’t handle being asked to do anything reasonable. I’d hate to try asking your average Arizonan to do something not reasonable! People are selfish everywhere and can’t be asked for simple little favors, but it seems especially so in Arizona.

Well, I’m not worried about cattle or homicidal maniacs when we move, but I am slightly worried about dogs. People are looser out in open spaces and the laws aren’t as tight. I hope to hell this won’t mean we’ll have dogs roaming around our land, but hopefully, we can put up some kind of fence a dog can’t squeeze through.

Tom got more listings of available land/houses in the mail yesterday. They were like the first batch we got - some had potential, others didn’t.

I really feel I’ll have to settle in some shape or form (Tom doesn’t mind where we go), but don’t I always? I’m just not destined to have my cake and eat it too. Perhaps no one is. The question is, though, do I want to settle on the house or the land? Tom says he doesn’t think getting a 3-bedroom/2-bath is settling. Neither do I if the rooms aren’t too small. I’d like to have 4 major clumps of space. One for the master bedroom. One for my computer. One for his computer and a small bed. And one for the animals. As Tom said, though, we’ll be able to add on if we want to.

I was watching part of a doll show with Madame Alexander dolls. Never heard of them before, but they’re yucky! They’re these little 8”-10” vinyl dolls with tacky little outfits that cost $100 or more. I can’t believe they’re priced over $10.

There was a message from Andy when I got up. So he does want the button sewn still. He said he’s gonna bring them over this weekend. He’s onto another temp job now and he says he’s glad he’s got weekends off so he can make plans with people. Yeah, well, it isn’t gonna be me. I told him that I’d be no good for company and visits while we’re here, but I didn’t want to push the matter on him for fear of him trying all the harder to get together with me or deciding he needed favors on the weekends. He mentioned going to bars, and that he felt like there was something else he wanted to tell me or ask me. Well, he better not think of asking me for more favors or a huge one cuz the answer’s no. The timing’s lousy and I’m sick of him using me. I’m tired of him coming around only when he wants something.

Tom got another idea (we really meant it when we said we’d discuss all possible options) to get us out of here faster, yet still enable us to have what we want. If a house is no more than 1000 feet away from where the electricity is, the electric company won’t charge anything to hook a house up to it. After that, it’s $6 a foot which can get pretty expensive if your house is 2000 feet away or more. So we talked about maybe getting a cheap, older, smaller house that’s already rigged with utilities, then turning right around and putting in a big, new, modern house immediately after moving in. That way we won’t have to worry about the expense of electricity, phones, wells, etc. This should also enable us to have plenty of money for new furniture.

Sadly enough, though, I really think we’ll be here into September. Maybe even October. Long enough for Tammy and God knows who else to call me that I don’t want to hear from. Thank God for caller ID and answering machines! Sales calls and Andy’s calls, although Tom thinks it’s Eldon, always have to come and distract me when I’m in the middle of a conversation with Tom, or doing something, so from here on out, I’m keeping the ringer off.

Tom’s gonna order me a couple more Heart CDs online. I really love that song Dreamboat Annie and would love to hear the live version of it, so he’s gonna get me a live CD of theirs. Also, the album Dreamboat Annie has 3 different versions of the song. That ought to be interesting. Can’t wait to check it out.

Tom’s mom did give him a birthday card and check, after all. He just got it in person when he went to visit, rather than in the mail. He told her about our land hunt the other day, and as figured, she didn’t say a word about it. She was too busy wrapped up in her favorite subject - herself. Although not entirely. Ray’s been eating at her a lot lately. He has a bad liver and the doctor says he’s dying, even though I don’t sense him going any time soon. Getting a liver transplant is nearly impossible. It’s harder to get than heart transplants.

Today Tom’s gonna get some real primer that’ll seal up anything in one coat like we should’ve gotten in the first place. It’s not fumeless, but anything’s better than the rotten egg smell of the drain opener we use from time to time. Also, he fixed the cooler, so we can vent the place when we use it.

Next door’s still behaving. Haven’t seen the white car or the ranchero for nearly two weeks now. The question is, what will it be like when I do see them again? Or, I should say, what will it sound like. All there’s been in the way of noise was a 3-minute episode yesterday afternoon, but it wasn’t music. Debra decided to cuss out and threaten one of the kids that were wailing its little ass off in the carport. Every time I hear Deb lately, she’s swearing and fuming mad. Is she that black bitch’s sister or something?