Another scorpion down. I was working out when I noticed it. This one was huge! It was twice as big as the other one I killed, nearly 3” long. It was on the living room windowsill.

Saw Dr. Rose today. He gave me refills on the nasal spray and inhaler. In place of the Theo, he’s giving me an inhaler I used to take a while back. He’s also sending me for blood work to run tests to see if I’ve got anything going on that’s been causing the ridges in my nails, or if it’s just the way I am. It’s probably just the way I am, but we’ll see. This test also tests the thyroid, too.

Afterward, we went to Walgreens. I got another sports bra, a pair of panties, and glitter nail polish that turns from fuchsia to pink as your body heat warms it. Run your fingers under cold water, and it’s bright pink again! It’s pretty cool. I put some on Bailey’s nails and Angel’s lips.

I also got a new Barbie in a 2-piece bathing suit with bold colors – pink, lime green and purple. At first I didn’t think it was all that different from my others, but not only is her hairstyle slightly different, but she’s got a sculpted belly with a belly button and all.

Tom said that according to the prints on the ground, the horses that were here were not wild horses because they were wearing shoes.

People let their dogs roam loose out here, so why not their horses, too?

I noticed that some of the male babies’ balls are dropping, so I sexed them as best as I could. I’ll keep an eye on them as they develop and try to pair boys with men and girls with women. I still intend to breed more. I’d just like to have some control over who breeds with whom, if possible. It appears that this time around, there are a lot more girls than boys.

Oh, Teddy Bear, I still miss you so much!

Although I’m polite and not friendly when it comes to Apple Cheeks, we ended up making a little bit of small talk yesterday, anyway. He was asking Tom about his job and telling me, “Well, your community service is almost done, you’re almost done with the anger management, you got the screening done, so all you have to do is stay out of trouble and report.”

This was good to hear. Meaning, I took it as a good sign saying he won’t harass me about the job. Tom says that unless I can find a job working for someone, I shouldn’t even bother to tell him. Meaning that if I end up being an independent contractor, I should never divulge my edges, so to speak, and not use them unless I need to. However, he did ask me what medications I was on. For him to ask this out of the blue and for the first time in a while, makes me think I’m in for a drug test next time around.

Jack and Jill turned out to be Jack and Zach, so I set them free yesterday about a mile from the house. I didn’t want them anyway, because they chewed so fiercely that there’d have been no way I could keep them in any of the cages for too long. They just weren’t happy here, either.

Tom picked up bottles this morning and told Gina that I didn’t come along so he could fit more in. As we figured, this was no problem.

Later...

Tom downloaded me a few programs to try out that encrypt files. Any kind of file. Not just doc files. The first one was risky because you only got one shot at typing in your code. If you made a typo, and couldn’t figure out what that typo was, you could never get into the file again, so that one wasn’t good. The next one let you confirm your password, allowing you to type it twice to make sure it matched up with the first one you typed, but it created other files I didn’t want that sort of defeated the purpose. The one I settled on allows me to confirm, use the same code for each file, and choose whether or not I encrypted a few files or my whole directory. First I encrypted my whole directory and then I decrypted the files I didn’t feel were necessary to be encrypted, like my doll and pet charts and petty shit like that. It’s the journal files I wanted to be encrypted.

It’s not as convenient, because now, each time I go to use the computer, I have to first decrypt the files I want to use, then encrypt them when I shut down. I think it’s worth the time and effort, though. Not that I’ve got anything to hide, but because I fear my stuff being stolen by the pigs and I don’t want to make things easier on them. If you did not receive my permission to read my journals or any parts of them, then you will not read them! Period. Any unauthorized people will get garbage; a bunch of meaningless letters, numbers and symbols.

I backed up all my stuff again too, so the stuff on floppies is now encrypted as well. I have a floppy on a couple of dolls that contain my current stuff. Then I have a backup that I keep right here on my desk and a set in the vent. Tom will take care of backing me up on CD and putting that in the ground.

I’m not even going to say what my code is in this journal because they could come and seize this while I was in the middle of working on it. I know it’s being overly cautious and paranoid, but after all I’ve been through, I could never be too cautious/paranoid. Logically looking at it, it seems so unlikely that they’d seize my computer, but we never thought they’d throw me in jail for 6 months over a letter, either. In this state, with the way the system is, one can never be sure of anything.

I’m on a roll vibe-wise. First I vibed that something significant would happen on the 8th, then I vibed the August car trouble, and the last time we got tickets, I vibed we’d win. We did. His ticket won twice on Bingo. A total of $5.

We’re trying out a different mice arrangement. I wanted to just throw them all together and dump the ones I didn’t want to keep the population at a steady 30 or so mice, but he suggested we separate the adult females. Then as the younger females get pregnant, pull them out and put them with the other ladies, and basically keep doing that till we get all the mice we want. It’s just a bitch sexing them! Until they’re older, after they’ve started breeding, it’s not that easy to tell them apart.

When I was changing the rat’s cage, I set the bars on the floor with them inside it. I noticed Little Buddy seemed to be having trouble getting out through the part that’s wider and sits down inside the base, so I put the wire roof back on. Sure enough, though, he came to visit me in the bathroom as I was working on bottles. So, the plastic shelves were put back on.

I wonder just what in the world is up with Paula? I’ve only gotten one letter from her since I’ve been home. Maybe I should quit writing to her till I hear from her. You never know if she’s stuck in jail! I want to make sure she’s OK and getting my mail before I keep writing. I wish she’d write at least once a month! Like the first of every month. It doesn’t have to be a novel. Just the basic highlights of her life would do.

I take that back. Maybe I will have something to hide but from Tom and not the pigs. I still doubt Tom snoops into these journals, but once again, you can’t be too sure about anything in this world. If anything happens between Teddy Bear and I, it could hurt his feelings if he read up on it, although I say that if you’re going to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, you ask for and deserve what you might get from it.

Yesterday turned out to be quite an interesting day. For starters, I was right about it being a day for things to happen. I just didn’t know if they’d be good things or not. One thing that happened was that we got a check from the government we were waiting on. Another thing is that Tom got offered a job as a night shift manager. He was torn between accepting and declining. He wants more money, but he doesn’t want to work nights. Unfortunately, their 2nd shift is considered to be from 5 PM-1 AM, rather than 3 PM-11 PM. So, since God has called upon us to serve and cater to a few of his precious freeloaders, the freeloaders would then interfere with his sleep time rather than his work time, depending on the time of the appointment (wouldn’t God just love us if we gave a percentage of our income to the freeloaders?). I still think he’ll end up taking the job, though, and he still swears he’s going to help me get a home job. Yeah, we’ll get ahead again financially so God can send some more freeloaders to fuck us over and set us back.

Also, yesterday, while I was sitting at the computer, a horse walked by the window! I went outside and there were 4 of them! They were beautiful too, and each one was a different color. They didn’t have any people or bridles on, so they might’ve been wild horses. The one that passed by the window headed towards the back and down to the old single-wide that I guess will forever sit on Dan’s property (I still call it “Dan’s property” because I don’t know who they are). The other 3 were by next door’s shacks, then they ran, neighing all the way, around the front of our house, towards the back, then down by where the other horse had gone.

Of God’s many highlights for me in life, I don’t have to say that one of his favorite things to have happened to me is for me to have my shit taken. For obvious reasons, after having Dureen, the lovely staff members of the places I was in as a kid, then the jail, as well as a few so-called “friends” along the way like Crystal C, I’m paranoid about my stuff. Even money-wise I’ve been severely taken advantage of, before and after meeting Tom. There were people like Nellie R ripping me off on Oswego Street, and now it’s contractors and freeloaders. Therefore, despite how low the chances may be of the pigs legally stealing my journals, Tom’s going to show me how to encrypt them this weekend. If I encrypt them, then they’ll be scrambled. Only I’ll be able to decipher them because I’ll be the only one with the code (password) to open the files. I’m going to scramble all my doc files. Having hidden text would be useless cuz there are plenty of ways to expose hidden text. So, unless Tom’s lying, and he knows of a way he can hack into them, no one can ever get into them but me. I can back them up onto floppies encrypted, too. I can’t yet say what my code words will be or where we’re hiding backups till this is scrambled.

This way, if the pigs do rip off the computers or any disks, I can at least laugh at them when they can’t break into the doc files. With my shit luck, though, the control junkies will bribe me by threatening me with years in prison if I don’t tell them the code. Pigs will get information any way they can. They don’t care who they hurt along the way, either. But I’ll be damned if I’ll make anything easy for them or cooperate with them in any way. We’d be long gone long before they could imprison me for not letting them get their way. As Tom said, though, I have to make sure I remember what the code is, or else I’ll never be able to get back in.

I just brought the two wild ones and their little cage into the office. They’re sitting on the shelf right by the monitor. Maybe if they’re around me more often, they’ll calm down a bit, but I don’t know. It never worked with Gizzy. If Jill’s not pregnant by September 1st, I’ll be kicking them both out.

Tomorrow I’ve got to see Apple Cheeks, but I’m not going to be tagging along on Saturday to pick up bottles. I’m only going along on every other pick-up. That way he can have more room to get more in.

Tom was right, so far, and the appointment yesterday was a breeze. You just cost us another $60, you fucking freeloaders! Despite the additional money, I, the victim, have lost, it was just a matter of answering a whole lot of personal questions concerning my emotional and physical being. I thought some of the questions were pretty funny, like – do I feel pushed around? Do I sometimes wish I was never born?

Do I ever!

Then he says to me, “Well, you’re married, so I assume you’re heterosexual,” when he brought up the subject of sexual orientation.

“Actually, I’m bi,” I answered.

Not that I’m ashamed to say so, but what does my sexual preference have to do with this so-called letter I’m supposed to have written? They even marked that I was white on one of their forms. Why? So they can know who to discriminate against?

Tom, who was with me during my talk with this lady and then the guy who interviewed me, was as confused as we were as to what they wanted. They mainly deal with drug and alcohol cases. Not this shit. So they called Scot, who said that this was just a formality. I informed them up front that I did not intend to return to them and that I already had a therapist. They agreed and wrote the letter Scot said he needed, saying that they don’t see any reason to treat me further. It’s just one of those things the state requires; a letter saying someone is or isn’t crazy. Those fucking courts still need to be more specific when they say immediate and specify whether or not immediate means upon sentencing, or upon release from jail.

Tom was saying how that’s one more thing we can check off as done, but I don’t know. It seems that whenever we check something off our little freeloader list, they add something else right back on. And more money, too.

I still don’t know what shocks me more. Just the fact that I got arrested for this shit, or the outrageous sentence I got for it. You can go to court for anything. Anything. Especially if you’re not white. You can bitch about anything. Even journals that you, as an adult, had the right to ignore and weren’t forced to read. It’s like the little boy who ran to his teacher because another little boy called him stupid. Where do we draw the line as to what we can go running to the piggies and courts for? They’re not our parents, for Christ’s sake!

People need to find their proper places. An example of that is Stacey from the Vista Ventana. She should never have gotten involved in my disputes with other tenants. It wasn’t her place to stick her nose into my personal business like that. If I had been loud like the cock above me was in the first building and like the butch was in the second building, that’d be different. Her job was to see to it that tenants followed pool rules, weren’t rowdy and noisy, weren’t destroying things, were paying their rent, etc., but as far as my phone calls to others; this was none of her concern. Stacy was so much like Donna A and Dureen O. Anything to control others.

Just as I predicted in either May or June, we’re having car trouble. I said we’d have it in August, and sure enough, as soon as August was upon us, so was the car curse. It doesn’t always want to start right away. Tom has to clean off corrosion that’s gunked up on some cables.

Around mid-July, I had a vibe concerning today but didn’t know if it was good or bad. I’m hoping it has to do with the better job/raise Tom said he’s been hoping for at the bank.

Now for the best news – I finally heard from Mary! She said she did get my letters. One of hers to me was returned saying “attempted, unknown,” but I don’t know what this meant. Maybe they just didn’t like the idea of sending out letters to someone with only their first name since she had been sending letters to “Dawn.” I even decided to start sticking our new address labels on. Who cares if any nosy DOs read my mail to her? I’m not saying anything wrong. And as far as Scot goes – he can tell me what to do, but I’ll follow my heart and do what I think is best.

I’m sending her 5 pictures per letter, which is all that’s allowed at once. They can’t be bigger than 5 x 3. Pictures of the animals, us, the house, the land.

She mentioned wanting to take all the letters she’s written to friends someday and publish them, so I went ahead and typed up the 3 letters I’ve received from her so far and sent them to her. I told her she’d have 2 files on my computer. One for her letters to me (I’ll trash the originals) and one for her life’s story.

Her writing’s getting easier to read as I get used to it, though it’s still too big and the lines run too closely together. She’s not a great speller, but better than most. She never uses periods, though. All she uses are commas. She never uses caps, either, or makes paragraphs, so as I explained to her, that as her editor, I’d fine-tune stuff like this. Sometimes she writes the word “there” when it’s supposed to be “their”, so I’ll also be correcting grammatical stuff as best I can. I asked her to be more specific with commas and periods. Although I can pretty much figure out when to put periods in, based on the context of what she’s saying, it’ll go faster and easier for me if she’s more specific on that.

She says she’s still having trouble picking up a pencil to write because some airhead once discouraged her really badly. I told her to fuck that airhead and just write, letting her know she’d be the author and that I’d simply be the one getting her story typed and out there (hopefully). Unsure of how to go about it, I suggested she either write her story in chunks or by subjects. Maybe write her preteen years, then her teenage years, and then her 20s. Or go by events, both good and bad, in the order that she remembers them.

She said Palma hasn’t worked there since she’s been back, and that was shortly after I left.

She said she figured I’d check up on her case, but not to believe it cuz they’re liars.

I hope one particularly disturbing part was a lie, that’s for sure! Some articles I found say she was killed and buried right away. Others say she was in agony for days with a broken arm and fractured skull before she was buried.

Myra C, yes, but I can’t imagine Mary G of all people, no matter how much of a fugitive she may’ve been, sitting around doing nothing while her child suffered like that. The only way that could’ve happened is if Justin wouldn’t let her get help. Mary could never be that selfish.

She commended me for writing my own book, which I reminded her she could have as soon as she got out of there. She still doesn’t know when that’ll be.

She said she found out from an inmate that Myra’s already been beat up in prison.

I figured she would be. She’s the type that’ll get regular beatings, but the pervert deserves anything she gets, even death.

She said that the pictures were great.

I told Miss Balls of Brass that although I can’t say who it is with her still in there, she’s going to call me Miss Balls of Brass since no one did my dirty work for me as far as Teddy Bear goes. I hit on her all by myself. It still stuns the shit out of me that I got her! It was mutual!

She also says that when she gets out she wants to dye her hair fuchsia, grow it down to her kneecaps, and be an activist for battered women. She wants me to go along with her on this, too.

Then, for the first time since meeting her just over 7 months ago, I wondered if her fondness for me could go deeper than I ever realized. I hope not, cuz I don’t like fems that are weaker than me, not that it would really matter. I mean, what’s she gonna do? Rape me? Women don’t usually do that to other women. I’m not worried about it. It’s not important as long as she’s a good friend.

What made me start to wonder? All the comments she’s made like how she wants it to be where you see one, you see the other. You’re the bomb, we’re a team, we need each other, it was meant to be, I so do love you, you’re my shining star, and all the praise and compliments she’s lavished upon me.

The babies are ready for segregation. They’re all getting around and eating and drinking, although they still nurse a bit. However, as is usually the case for me, they all looked the same when I tried to sex them. They all looked like girls. So, I’ll have Tom help me this weekend. I wish the guy’s balls were developed from the get-go, but by the time it’s easy to sex them, it’s too late and they’re already breeding.

Today I made another backup copy of my doc files and put them on floppies, which I hid in a place I can’t say. That way, if any nosy beings called pigs do search the place, they shouldn’t be found. It’d be very unlikely, anyway.

I can tell you firsthand that if they storm us, it’s not about Tom and Jodi having anything bad. It’s about power and control. I’ve had enough experience with Valleyhead, Brattleboro, Doe, jail, etc., to know that they wouldn’t leave empty-handed just because we have nothing bad for them to find. They won’t go through the hassle of coming out here and tearing the place apart without taking something. Even people like Chambers, who was far from the extreme, felt we were just too clean and that she had to take something, so she swiped my extra towel.

If you don’t give people who are doing searches a reason to take something, they’ll find a reason of their own. Sorry, though, piggies. You’ll never get those hidden disks from me!

Tomorrow will be another appointment for the freeloaders, another $60 spent for the freeloaders, and another session with somebody else deciding what I need. Tom said it’s covered under our insurance, should they decide I need more than the initial appointment. That’s not the point. Enough is enough already! That’s the point.

Saw Scot last Friday and gave him a copy of Helen’s letter. I’ve completed 61 hours of community service and have 39 to go. Then he can harass me about my “not working.” Tom still thinks he won’t bring it up again. Well, if he does, he’ll quickly find that he’s wasting his time. Old fashioned or not, I’m not going to take just any job. I can’t take just any job anyway, in my case. When I find a home job, I find one. And it’s going to be because I want it and not because society or the courts said I should or had to.

Tom and I also remember things differently pertaining to that. He says Scot said he wasn’t going to worry about it, but I remember him saying we’d worry about the job after the community service is done. Well, I’m not worried about it, but he can worry about it all he wants if he’d like.

Now for the best news, non-freeloader related. We have wild mice in our vents! The bad to that is that Tom has to crawl under the house with all the snakes, scorpions and God knows what else, to find out where they’re coming in from, which will be hard. If there are any significant holes in the vent, we could lose a lot of the AC, but so far I haven’t noticed a difference in the cooling.

I heard a sound coming from the vent late in the night a couple of nights ago and saw a mouse go by. Tom saw them yesterday morning and said they were Fancy mice that I lost. Impossible, I told him, going by my count. I know how many mice I have and I’d know if any were missing. Also, it would’ve had to have gone down there when it was close to newborn, in order to fit through the vent’s grill, then miraculously survived this long. I would’ve heard chewing sounds long before I did, too.

Anyway, I set up the trap and we’ve got one caught so far, but there’s at least one more down there I’m waiting to catch. Tom’s not sure, but I’m sure it’s a wild mouse. It’s a full-grown male, judging by its well-developed balls, and is half the size Fancy mice get to be. Although its fur is a bit thick and shiny, the colors differ from my other mice. It’s a good-looking mouse. It’s of various shades of brown.

I’ve got it in one of the Play City cages I wished I’d had when I caught Gizzy in Phoenix. It can’t escape this cage. However, I can’t throw it in with the boys with the way it jumps high enough to escape the tank, even though it’s not as spastic as Gizzy was, and I can’t afford to have one or two mice hogging up a cage like that, so I’m going to put it in the wire cage we brought Ratsy home in. A part of it is outside, though, and I have to wait till it’s light and he gets up and goes out to get it.

Later...

Caught the other mouse. This one’s smaller and appears to be a girl. She’s got the same coloring with a slight light spot on her head. I think the boy’s full-grown and that this one’s still young. Jack and Jill may not be able to live in the wire cage because they may slip through the wires. I know Jill could. She slipped through the rungs of the wheel, which is about the same width or smaller. I could’ve sworn the mouse I saw was bigger than these two, so I set up the trap again and will keep on doing so till I stop trapping mice.

Tom saw a dirt-colored snake sitting in the shade of the utility pole a few feet from the house. By the time we went back out with the camera, it was gone.

Although I’m tired, the freeloaders say I have to stay up till at least 2 PM. Yesterday, I only slept 8 hours and got up at 10 PM instead of midnight, like I had planned on getting up at. So, if I stay up till at least 2:00, I should sleep till 1 AM and not be so tired 12 hours later when my bosses have me see Scot. Watch. With my shit luck, he’ll want to do a drug test which will keep me there a lot longer.

We may end up with around 60 mice here! The average mouse has 6 babies per litter, and if I’ve got at least 5 pregnant mice, then I could end up with about 60 mice whenever they finally quit having babies.

What’s really cool is that the pig and the mice all get along with each other. I was remembering how the pet store I got Houdini and Scuttles from had guinea pigs mixed in with mice, hamsters, and gerbils, and decided to give it a try since neither is aggressive like rats can be. This is great cuz now the mice have more room. Something they’re going to need!

Tuesday, my bosses say I have to serve them yet again by going to that MH screening appointment.

I can’t wait!

Maybe they’ll butt out of my schedule and stop costing us money someday, but I don’t know. I wouldn’t count on it. Not in this life, and certainly not any time in the near future. I’ve got years yet that they’ll seize ownership of me and my life.

I’m currently doing a rollover with my schedule. Oh, how good it feels to sleep 10 hours! I wake up for a while, though, on the 4th hour. I’m up 18 hours when I don’t take the Melatonin. Sometimes I’m up for the normal 16 hours without it, but usually, it’s more like 18 hours.

Ordered some new toys from an adult catalog. My vibrator just broke. This one lasted the longest, though. I think I got it when we first moved in here. Maybe I even got it in Phoenix. I’m not sure.

Anyway, I totally prefer to go it alone sexually and fantasize about Teddy Bear till I can have her for real. I’m sorry, but I just can’t get into Tom as much as I love him. By his behavior, I can see he’s OK with it, though, and isn’t any more interested in sex with me than I am with him.

I wonder, though – what will it be like with Teddy Bear? I have a feeling she’ll be a bore in bed, as shy as she is, but I don’t care. I just want her at least once just so I can get her out of my system and know that I did it with her, someone I’m attracted to. If it really does happen, like I predict it will, she’ll be the biggest turn-on. Meaning, the one I was most attracted to out of everyone I’ve ever been with, be it for just one night or longer. I wonder if my lusting for her like I do will make me self-conscious in bed, and if the shock of it finally happening will prevent me from cumming? It’s been like being forced to wait for a cigarette I crave. Well, I want that cigarette one of these days, though I doubt we’ll do anything the first few times I see her. I’ll bet I’ll end up being the one who’ll have to initiate the fun, too. I still care about her as a person and hope she’s a regular part of my life for as long as possible, but I lust for her sooo bad! Just like it’s easy for me to say I wish I’d met Tom sooner than I did, a part of me wishes I’d met Teddy Bear first. As happy as I am with Tom, and as sure as I am that I want to be with him forever, it’s quite a pisser to have had such shitty luck with women for so many years as I did, then I meet this ideal woman. One with a hell of a personality and where the attraction is mutual. I’ll never know for sure, obviously, but I’m pretty sure we could’ve had a great relationship, as long as she was accepting of some of my more unusual ways. My not working might’ve concerned her more than my screwy schedule would have. I don’t know if she’d have been quite as accepting/tolerant as Tom. I don’t know if anyone could be as accepting/tolerant as Tom.

As far as what I got goes – I got a hell of a deal. All for just $17 I got 3 different vibrators, a free mystery gift, and 3 free videos, though I’m not a video person. Tom can check those out if he wants to. The free gift is probably a video, too.

I’m not only planning to use the toys for fun but to help heal the knee pain I’ve been having lately. I fucked up the ligaments in my knees somehow. At least I think that’s what it is. Maybe the concentrated buzzing of the vibrators will help more than the big heat massager thing I have.

Like I asked for, I got that letter from Helen to give to the mental health screening people. I made a copy for Scot to add to my file, too. In the letter she writes: I want to commend you on the progress with anger management I’ve seen in just the short time I’ve been seeing you since your release from jail. You appear much more accepting of all your experiences without the need for retaliation – even if it was all unfair. I believe you are also making good progress with all the requirements of your probation and I give you credit for that also.

I also asked her how many more visits she thought I should have, and she said exactly what I was thinking – we’ll wait till after the MH screening to decide, but maybe 3-5 more visits??

We received our new address labels – 24 scenic images. Naturally, the snowy ones don’t appeal to me.

Teddy Bear’s settling in nicely. Getting louder, too. At night she chats for hours at a time, getting louder when she hears me call to her from the next room.

The 14 babies that were born to two mice on the 25th are doing well. I can’t believe The Gray Lady and her babies survived.

Got a 2-hour concert last night. No, it wasn’t the new people introducing themselves to the neighborhood, but a live band somewhere far off towards the east. Could’ve been a house stereo with its speakers pulled outside, since it was a little long to be from a car, but I could hear the thump of the base in here really well.

A lounge in the center of town says: Welcome to the casino, cattle, and cotton capital of Arizona. They forgot something. They left out the “freeloaders.” The filthy fucking freeloaders we’re overrun with. Then again, there are just as many freeloaders, as they call them out here, in Phoenix and other places in Arizona. The whole southwest is infested with them!

When Tom and I talked about other places we may one day move to, I was in quite a dilemma. I want to stay where the weather’s hot and dry, but that’d mean sticking to the southwest and its freeloaders. Going tropical would mean having to deal with humidity. Going up north would mean fewer people and fewer minorities, but then we’d have to deal with the cold and snow. To say that each place has its pros and cons is an understatement! If Teddy Bear does become a regular part of my life, which I’m hoping for, then I may want to stay in Arizona unless she moves.

Tom heard a good joke at work that goes like this: Two lesbians entered a whorehouse. They asked to speak to the madam. When the madam appeared, they told her, “We want two 15-year-olds.”

The madam then said, “Sorry, we don’t serve minors to lickers.”

Three days in a row of being out and having appointments was starting to drive me crazy! I was beginning to feel like I’d feel in jail - smothered by too many people and too little space.

Helen says I’m making great progress with the anger and doing better each time she sees me. You’d think, as I told her, that I should be fuming every minute of every day after what these freeloaders put me through, but I guess that all the good I got out of it is what keeps me from doing that. Besides, I spent so much time fuming, that I’m nearly all fumed out. There’s hardly any left in me, but don’t be fooled. If I could legally find, kidnap and torture that bitch and her boy toy, I wouldn’t hesitate. She’d stay with me as her master for 6 months, the very same amount of time I was held hostage before I let her go, and believe me, nothing good would come of it for her. She’d be leaving scarred and traumatized beyond help.

When Scot stopped by yesterday at noon, he was much more relaxed. He was in and out real fast, never going in any of the enclosed rooms, and not even asking me all of the usual questions that are part of a script they follow. They usually ask if there are any changes, any police contact, or any problems with drugs/alcohol, but he only asked me if there were any changes.

He gave me a good suggestion which I called and left a message for Helen about. He suggested having her give me a note to take to the mental health screening. Hopefully, this will keep them from bugging me for another appointment, if they see I’m already working with someone.

He asked me if I had any idea how long I’d need to see Helen, but I have no idea. Technically, I don’t need to see her ever again. I think she’s already offered any help she could possibly offer me. Especially by enlightening me with the possibility that Tom wasn’t deliberately holding back, but I still sense deep down there was a fear of making a kid. Not so much because he didn’t want to have to deal with it, but because he doubted my ability to deal with it, even though he said he felt I could handle it.

I think I’ll see her a few more times, then we’ll be done. It’ll save us money, too.

It was kind of funny because we got to talking for an hour and a half. A half-hour into the next lady’s appointment. I told Helen to be glad it wasn’t me waiting on her like that, or else I’d be as pissed as I was the day I first met her!

After Helen’s, we went to the pet store. We can’t afford the cage yet, thanks to the freeloaders, but we did get a couple of wooden burrows for the mice, some food, and a new guinea pig! Yeah, I kind of miss having them around even though they’re not very playful. They don’t do anything. They just sit there, but they’re so cuddly, unlike rats who just want to run around and play, and they sure make neat sounds, although this one hasn’t squealed yet. For the first few days, guinea pigs lay low. It’s a female pig that costs $16. She’s black with one white paw and a white stripe on one side that looks painted on. She’s still velvety soft because she’s not fully grown. She has a regular GP nose and not a pug nose like Velvet had. She’s pretty timid so far. Especially compared to a rat. Rats, though, are still my number one. They’ll always be my favorite.

I deleted the mice, except for Gizzy the house mouse, from my pet chart. I decided not to bother keeping mouse records, other than in this journal. Speaking of which, I got a good look at the babies today, who are just sprouting their fur. I see Skunkhead in them. Instead of having mostly solids, I’ve got mostly markings in this case. I’ll get a better look at them tomorrow when I go to clean their cages.

Saw the ear specialist yesterday and was there for two fucking hours! Specialists are terrible in that way. First we saw the doctor, who’s kind of old. Like in his 60s. He’s an ugly geek, too. He cleaned the canal out which was totally loaded with dead skin. There were huge chunks of it he pulled out. He said he wants to see me every 6 months. Then he had a mold made for that ear to keep water out when showering or swimming, but of course, I’ll never wear the damn thing. It was made out of silicone rubber. I also had a hearing test done, too.

Still haven’t heard from Mary. My guess is that she either decided to dump me for some reason, got extradited and lost my address, or someone’s been interfering with our mail. But I don’t know whose mail is being intercepted if that’s the case. My mail to her? Hers to me? Both?

Tom got me a new electronic reader to read my journals when I proofread them. It’s good to hear it as well as see it. This reader is a little more convenient to use than my old one.

He also got me a dictionary with Spanish, German, and Swedish. It’s nice to have that on the computer and to type in the word I want, rather than look it up in a book.

I’ve been having a serious mental block about working out. It’s just so discouraging knowing I can’t lose the fat without starving consistently. Then, even if I could, I’d still have to eat way below the average amount to keep it off, so I’d be very hungry either way. I’d have to work out for hours every day in order to consume 1500-2000 calories a day without gaining whatever weight I lost.

Another reason I’m having trouble bringing myself to work out, though I should settle for gaining muscle even if I can’t lose the fat, is because I fear that someone or something will come and undo all my hard work, forcing me to start all over again.

It’s Monday. Teddy Bear, are you in M Dorm? Are you, Mary? Hopefully, Tom can stop at the PO tomorrow and hopefully there’ll be a letter from Mary.

The Teddy Bear craze hasn’t worn off a bit. I’m still in love with her and I’m still lusting for her, too. Still got 280 days to go, though, unless she beats me to it or changes her mind. She might also still decide to see me, yet have a girlfriend in tow. I hope not! If it happens, though, it happens.

I can’t believe I have nearly 3 months of journaling that’s under 30 pages!

I finished typing up the jailhouse journal and am now in the proofreading phase.

Went to a dentist today and she was great. Friendly, competent and with the times. The offices were nice and modern. I didn’t realize just how behind the time Dr. Smith and Melanie were till today. Dr. Mohr mentioned something to me that I’d never heard of before. Not even from Mel. For about $400, I can get a permanent retainer! I was so glad to hear this, too. It’s a worthy investment so I don’t have to deal with retainers all my life, which are a pain in the ass. Not compared to braces, but still, I’d rather have a built-in one. I was surprised she said $400 and not $1,000- $2,000. I can start with the bottom, which is more stubborn than the top, which will cost $200, and do payments. So, I don’t have to shell out the whole $400 at once and do both upper and lower teeth. It’s a wire they cement on behind the teeth. That’s my number one priority in the teeth department. My second priority will be having custom-made cups for home fluoride treatments, which can later be used for whitening treatments. That should be around $100 for the cups. The fluoride toothpaste is about $10, and the bleaching job should be around $150 if I do it at home (two treatments). It’s $500 if it’s done at their office (one treatment).

Unlike Smith, the doctor was very blunt and easy to understand. She explained things to me with no hesitation. She’s going to contact our insurance and get a chart of what’s covered, and how much of it, so I’ll know precisely what things cost.

I was surprised to learn that I only have one cavity and one that’s loose! The reason I’ve been having sensitivity in certain areas wasn’t due to cavities, but due to the gums receding a bit (she said something about how braces de-calcimine the teeth). She agrees I was badly short-changed in the enamel department. My enamel’s really soft, so she recommends keeping up with my fluoride treatment and using toothpaste made for sensitive teeth to coat the tiny nerves that are exposed. She said it’s important to be consistent, or else the sensitivity will return.

She’s right about that one! I learned that from being in jail.

She doesn’t recommend getting my teeth whitened till after I get the sensitivity down on my teeth and my enamel toughened up a bit first.

She said my teeth looked gorgeous, and that I’m doing an excellent home-care job. She took a few X-rays, tightened my retainers, scaled the teeth, then polished them. She did a lot of work that Smith would leave to the hygienist. She did the tightening of the retainers and the scaling.

Also, we were the only ones in the waiting room, which has got to be the smallest one I’ve ever seen, with only 3 chairs. They took care of me right away too, once they got me seated, and didn’t leave me there waiting forever.

After leaving the dentist, we stopped at a fast-food drive-thru.

I keep forgetting to mention this, but I’m really surprised that Scot asked me if I was in the tents the first time we met. Didn’t he know I was Ad-Seg? Didn’t he have all my jail information? I ask this because of the way they pass so much information around. I thought he was mailing Helen a paper stating the requirements necessary for doing the mental health screening, not every single thing about my case. He sent her detailed information, right down to every single one of my terms of probation. The only thing he might not have sent was copies of the journal, but maybe he did. I’d think Helen would’ve mentioned that, though.

Saturday, we went to Walgreens where I got a pair of blue tie-dye shorts and glittery lip gloss. We went to Dairy Queen that day, too.

Yesterday, Tom worked 2nd shift.

He also went to visit his mom and she gave us $20 for whatever we wanted, so we’ll probably take it to Walgreens this weekend.

I sent out a letter to Mary asking her what was up. I hope I hear from her.

I finally saw a snake on this property. One of those black ones, only this one wasn’t jet black. It came up out of a hole by the bedroom, yawned, then went hunting. I shot some pictures to show Tom when he got in but didn’t save them. They’re not as good as last year’s. I printed out the pictures I took. I’ll send them to Paula. When am I ever going to hear from that girl again?!

I started a 1200-calorie diet at 119 pounds last Sunday. On Monday I was 116, and for the last 3 days, I’ve been 114. It’s such a struggle getting below 115 and staying there. I agree with Tom – I’m not going to make it to 100. I don’t even think I’ll make it to 105, and if I did, how the hell am I going to stay there? I was thinking I’d maintain by having 1400 calories a day, but not at 105 pounds. I’d have to have less than that to maintain a weight that low. I could maintain anything that was 115 or higher on 1400 calories, though.

Anyway, the beginning of my day starts off easy. I’m not even hungry for the first 3-5 hours, but it gets progressively harder throughout my day.

I might go do some bottling now. I still say I’m being a sucker by doing this probation thing. It’s like a beaten woman returning to her abuser. In other words, I’m still letting the freeloaders and the state control me.

Tom and I were just out burning some stuff in the rain. It was a very gentle, pleasant rain.

We heard someone at the new house yell out, “Hey,” to someone else over there. Still no idea who they are or how many of them there are. Like 9 out of 10 Arizona households, they might have a dog, but at least it can’t be heard inside the house. Anyway, once the weather cools down and they open their doors/windows to play their music for us, we’ll probably be forced to learn more about them then.

Later...

Tom said that with the way the wind was blowing, he could almost make out what they were saying at the new house. He heard a white girl yell, “Be quiet,” to the dog. 

Well if they’d just take their dog inside, they wouldn’t have to listen to it so much, but that’s a no-no in Arizona. So are leashes, and as soon as that dog gets into next door’s chicken coop, they’ll shoot it.

The freeloaders will be costing us another $60 and probably a lot more than that. God, I hate those mother-fucking freeloaders! Damn them to hell for ruining my life! I could fucking curse their lives one by one for doing this to me all for asking them to shut up! I’m never going to be free of them, never!

Always with me, always with them.

I got the appointment for the mental health screening, which is going to cost $60 since they don’t use our insurance. The mental health screening is just one appointment, but if I need more, and I can guarantee that they’re going to say I do because that’s how they make money, they go by a sliding scale fee which is based on your income. So, knowing firsthand how anyone who’s licensed to prescribe drugs always insists you’re a mental case in need of appointments/drugs, I know I can count on multiple appointments. Again, though, I’ll be damned if they’ll seize control of my body like that.

Other than this fucking shit, the freeloaders had me working for them earlier on the bottles.

I’m almost convinced I had a past life and owned slaves. That’s got to be why God’s hell-bent on pitting these things against me.

I just can’t believe how far this shit’s gone and I doubt I ever will! How could they be so much a part of our lives when we live over an hour apart? They’re a million times more a part of our lives here than they were from just a few feet away! How can I ever purge them from our lives?!

Tom says Scot won’t bring up my “not working” again.

Yes, he will. But like I said, that’s where I put my foot down. That’s where Jodi doesn’t let others rule her and dictate her life to her. That’s where she takes control of her own life and takes a stand for her rights and for what she believes in. That’s where she shows the courts that they just can’t always control people the way they want to.

I still feel self-blame in this, too. I mean, if I had just let them fuck me over and not spoken out about it, this shit wouldn’t be happening. Some other shit would be happening instead, but it wouldn’t include my Teddy Bear.

In non-freeloader-related news, and believe it or not, I do have some, we painted the beam in the bedroom yesterday to hide the off-white paint dots that we did to cover up nail heads.

Tom also saw one of those black snakes while he was out burning yesterday morning. He said it acted as if he wasn’t there, getting within 10 feet of him.

In mice news, The Gray Lady’s pregnant again, which means she and the babies will all be dead once they’re born. I know a third pregnancy would kill that old mouse, and if the second batch didn’t make it, why should the third?

In other mice news, we have two mystery deaths we’ve been trying to figure out. I found two male mice dead today. They were both lying on their sides as if they casually died in their sleep. They were healthy and active, so I have no idea what killed them. Was it a dominance fight, or what? There wasn’t any blood, though. Was it a genetic disorder? It wasn’t fumes from the spraying Tom had to do yesterday, or else they’d all be dead. It couldn’t have been anything they ate, cuz again, they’d all be dead.

I’m not going to enter these deaths in the pet log. I only enter mice born or bought at this point cuz there are so many of them. It’s like groups of fish.

He had to spray under the house yesterday because we had an infestation of baby flies. There were thousands of them everywhere! This is just the thing that would happen to us, too.

I couldn’t fall asleep till 4 AM (I might roll my schedule) so Tom was nice enough to pick up bottles for me. That gave him extra room too, because he could use my seat.

It looks like there’s going to be yet more money we’ll have to dole out for the freeloaders. (ten years from now there’ll be something to dole money out for on account of them)! We’re having trouble getting an appointment made for this “mental health screening” the courts were supposed to have done in jail that they never did, so Scot’s going to refer me to a place that they use. I doubt our insurance will cover it.

When Scot was saying he had been “trying” to let us go about it ourselves so our insurance would cover it (like God would let someone else pick up the tab on these freeloaders), I didn’t like his tone. He was bordering on acceptable and being out of line, but for now, I’ve decided to let it go until and if it either happens again or he does something worse.

Fortunately, Tom hasn’t hit me for sex. I’ve had absolutely no desire whatsoever to get it on with him, but I sure do love to fantasize about Teddy Bear! Also, fortunately, we’re on the same wavelength, so I don’t have to feel guilty and like I’m depriving him. He’s not as honest about it as I’ve been, though. He says he’s “just letting me work through my ordeal.” Is he going to say that every time I have an ordeal to work through? I just think he’s saying that to cover for his own lack of desire.

The prospect of Tom’s new job isn’t definite yet, but it’s almost a sure thing. Who knows when he’ll begin, though? The ironic thing about it is that it may require him to travel to Vegas on business for a few days here and a few days there. When I realized Teddy Bear and I were going to get together someday, and as more than just friends, I thought to myself – wouldn’t it be nice if he’d go on business trips periodically so I could stay with her? Well, I might! I’ll bet that if I mentioned staying at Mom’s she’d offer to take me if need be or if I wanted since I wouldn’t want to spend too many days out here with no car. It’s just an ironic coincidence that I find myself wishing he’d have some business trips, then we find out he probably will. And right around the time we’re to meet, too. I seem to be getting an awful lot of wishes granted lately. That is, as long as they’re not freeloader-related.

Tomorrow’s freeloader-related task will be reporting to Scot. I don’t know if I like the idea of that being on Friday the 13th, but I don’t have bad vibes at the moment. I wouldn’t go near him if I did, believe me.

Saturday’s freeloader-related task will be dropping off and picking up bottles.

I wish these freeloaders would get out of my life! Out of my time, out of my schedule, out of our wallet!

I have less than a month’s worth of jail to type up, and then I can do the final proofreading.

My life sure as hell has been more eventful out here than back east, even if some of the events weren’t good. Back east, my residence may’ve changed a lot, but I basically knew the same kinds of people and did the same kinds of things. I hung out with mostly losers, made prank phone calls, and spent a lot of time being lonely and getting out of New England. That was the highlight of my life from 1986-1992.

I think what makes the probation more infuriating than jail, not that being thrown in jail for the freeloaders who badgered me wasn’t infuriating enough, but I’m not getting anything out of this shit. No Rosas, no Teddy Bears, no nothing. And I don’t care if that sounds selfish or not.

August 8th stands out in my mind for some reason. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, though. Maybe that’ll be the day Tom finds out for sure if he’s getting a new job at the bank with a raise. I vibed that he’ll get it and get a 5% raise. That’ll put him at around $16 an hour. Pretty good for Arizona.

We got a fluorescent bulb for the kitchen light that burned out. There are two lights in that big kitchen. One by one as the regular bulbs blow, we’ll replace them with fluorescent bulbs. They’re $11, but they’re supposed to last 5 years.

I’ve been considering a liquid diet. Liquid diets can be easier than diets that consist of food. Eating is like smoking – it’s easier to be all or nothing. But if I lost the weight, then what? That’s the real problem there, not losing weight. I could lose it. The question is – how do I keep it off? My body’s going to naturally want to reset itself at the weight it was meant to be at, that it feels most comfortable at in this day and age. Just like I was stuck at 124 pounds the first time I got fat since being in Arizona, I’m now stuck at 117. That’s better than 124, but I can’t budge below 117 without coming close to starving, then as soon as I eat the usual amount I eat, I jump back up to 117. This is why a part of me is hesitant to lose the weight in the first place, knowing how easy it’d be to slap it right back on.

I can’t believe I have under 25 pages of over a month’s worth of journaling. It’s just that I’ve been busy typing the Estrella book. The faster I get those jailhouse journal drafts typed up, the better I’ll feel, even though with my memory, I could write the thing without the drafts. It’s the little details that although I remember most, I wouldn’t want to forget.

Also, I’m blessed enough to not have a whole lot to write about (for now), and knowing that someone may steal these journals, puts a damper on my writing enthusiasm. Instead of going into detail, I’m basically just writing the facts, and that’s it.

The fact is, I had a major mouse mix-up and lost track of who was making it with whom. That’s because a male mouse jumped into the ladies’ cage, and a female mouse just had to go where the boys were! So now, I could have half a dozen pregnant ladies. You know how it is, though - when you don’t plan or try, they breed well.

Saw Scot yesterday, who shocked me by not asking for a piss test. We told him we’d call Helen for more referrals for this stupid, waste-of-time screening they want done (we had no luck with the two names she gave us), that they should’ve done in the first place.

I have about 40 community service hours done. I’ve been picking up bottles every other week so that the other two probationers can have their share. Meanwhile, Tom dropped off bottles and recyclable shit today, even though it wasn’t my week for bottles.

Tom taught me an interesting thing. We went out to decide whether or not we should bomb this evening (we did) based on which direction the storm was headed. All the storm cells we could see didn’t appear to be coming our way. He was holding up his finger, and I was like – what are you doing? He explained to me that if you wet your finger, the side that gets cold tells you which way the wind’s blowing. Neat, huh?

We’re sure now that Dan’s gone. His name’s now off the mailbox, but no new name’s gone up yet. I just know it isn’t Teddy Bear, unfortunately. These people obviously beat her to it, not that she’d necessarily want to live this far out and have such a long drive to the jail (a little over an hour). So far, it appears that God’s blessed us with a few, quiet white people. They hang out back a lot at night when it’s cool, judging by the lights, but I haven’t seen or heard them yet. Knowing that they’re white and judging by the size of that small house, I’d say there are only one or two people living there. They have one vehicle, from what I can see. A dark-colored jeep of some kind. Could even be a Bronco or a Blazer. It’s hard to tell at a distance.

Do I want to meet them?

No. I don’t want to know they exist and I’m not at all curious about them. I don’t want them making their business our business or making their trash our trash. They don’t seem to be slobs like next door does, but next door’s Mexican and we all know that God puts me next to blacks or Mexicans no matter where I go. At least most of their junk is heavy shit that can’t blow into our yard. Most of their land is fenced off, too. Anyway, those who have newer or nicer houses tend to be less trashy than those with dumps.

I’m so furious right now! My fury is freeloader-related, of course. Everything I do, I do for them. Freeloaders, freeloaders, freeloaders! Everything is freeloaders this, freeloaders that. For the freeloaders, because of the freeloaders - I have no life of my own! I go to sleep based on the freeloaders, I get up based on the freeloaders, we budget our time and money based on the freeloaders, etc. A good 80% of my life revolves around them! I’m so fucking sick of being forced to be their victim, and I’m so fucking sick of being used and abused by the system that caters to “minorities” at our expense. Minorities, along with the corrupt pigs, lawyers, and judges, fuck us over and then cry racism. Always gotta use racism as a crutch. Well, of course so many people hate them! I’m sick of being this powerless, helpless person, and I’m fucking sick of being thrown back in time, back to being a child again being told what to do! God

We’ve got to band together and take a stand against these people and not cower down to them and let them destroy us. Yet even juries are afraid to rule against blacks because they know they’re such poor losers who’ll go out rioting because they just can’t handle losing and not getting their way.

Tom’s had no luck with the two referrals Helen gave us, and tomorrow, when I report to Scot, and maybe feel like I was molested by having to piss in front of someone, he’s going to lay down the facts for Scot – the court ordered an “immediate” mental health screening, so why didn’t they take care of that while I was in their custody? It isn’t us in violation here, but of course, only the courts and its connections can legally violate.

I’m within inches of saying – fuck it! I will not be victimized another day. I’m taking back my life NOW and I refuse to associate with anyone in connection with the freeloaders!

The question is if I can ever cleanse my life of these freeloaders, whenever I can cleanse my life of them, who’ll be my next perpetrator, and how many years will I be their helpless, powerless victim?

Tom was saying, “Yeah, you got fucked over, but if you never sent the mail this never would’ve happened.”

Maybe not, but it makes me wonder – does anyone ever tell her, “Well, if you and your people had just shut up and left them alone, you’d never have gotten any mail from her.” Has anyone ever asked her if perhaps she might’ve provoked me and, in a sense, asked for what she got? Has anyone ever reminded her that we only wanted not to hear their music? That we weren’t asking for a million dollars or for them to change their lives? Then again, to be considerate of others would be asking them to change their lives.

Another thing that I don’t get is how people can harass people for years, then act all surprised when they finally get a reaction.

What did they expect?

Well, the next batch of freeloaders to harass us won’t get a reaction now that I know the laws protect them and know that they know it, too. That’s obviously where this twisted bitch was going in the first place – to use the law against me and in her favor, being the poor “minority” with a kid. She was trying to do this all along from the get-go cuz she knew she could fuck me over in court, with or without her pig pal.

Let’s not forget the big picture here. At this point, it doesn’t matter whether I’m guilty or not of wrongdoing. What matters is that not only doesn’t the sentence fit the so-called “crime,” but they brought this on themselves. Let’s not forget that they antagonized and provoked me and that if they had just kept their shit to themselves none of this would’ve happened. This never would’ve gone as far as it has if it weren’t for them.

Despite the good that came of it, it not only burns me up to know that I lost 6 months of my life to these freeloaders but also that I worried like hell for half a year over this house. I was so sure we’d lose this house! Better to worry for nothing than to not worry when there really is reason to, but still – 6 months I fretted over this, 6 months!

Today was a good day, although come tomorrow, it’s back to the usual grind – working for the freeloaders, getting up when the freeloaders say so, going places because of the freeloaders, doing things because of the freeloaders, etc.

I realized that this year I couldn’t be happy that we weren’t stuck being 3’ away from them during this Fourth of July holiday. We may as well be. At least then they didn’t cost us $40 a month. They didn’t cause me to have to scrape labels off of hundreds of bottles. They didn’t steal half a year of my freedom. They didn’t cause me to have to go places, do things, and spend money on account of them. The only thing they caused was for me to be severely annoyed by their noise, and stressed out over the prospect of them making noise when they weren’t. They may’ve made my life hell and really disturbed my peace, but initially, they didn’t own every aspect of me and my life.

Anyway, instead of bitching about shit that can’t be changed and that I’ve bitched about a million times before, I’ll get into today’s events. I got up around noon and we were out the door by 1:00. We went straight to Mary’s.

It was so good to see and hug mom after so long. She was glad to see me, too. They all were, and they treated me just like always. Ma looked better than ever. She was walking without her walker and was hardly shaky at all. She can now crochet and do puzzles. She had about 8 puzzles to give me and I chose 3 of them.

Their house was the neatest I’d ever seen it. It wasn’t nearly as cluttered as it normally is. Mary’s so with the times, though, overall. She doesn’t cook, doesn’t clean, and works.

First we all sat and talked. Dave was his usual goofy self. After chatting for a while, we all hit the pool, except for Mom. There were half a dozen pool noodles and balls that we each threw at each other. Well, Dave and I did most of the throwing. Dave and I are more alike, whereas Tom and Mary are more alike, which meant Tom and Mary preferred to float on noodles, for the most part, and chat, but Dave and I were rowdier. I jumped off the diving board several times.

Before hitting the pool, they gave Tom his birthday presents, and I’d say that if you asked Tom, he’d say this was the best birthday present he ever got. First, he got a check for $44 from Mom that was inside an awesome, sparkly card. Fireworks on a cake that’s so glittery. From Mary and Dave, he got a new computer! One way was better than he said he was going to get as soon as we had a spare $400 which probably wouldn’t have been for 5 years. I’m going to get a CD changer then, as soon as we can get me one!

After we left, we stopped at the grocery store for a few things, then went through a fast-food drive-thru, then home.

I found out more about Ida and Mary online.

It looks like Ida’s a regular little klepto and has been in trouble with the law for at least a decade. Shoplifting and burglary were her charges. She must’ve stolen something pretty expensive for it to be a class 4 felony, and if she’s so well off financially, why did she need to steal whatever it is she stole? She’s got cases stemming back to 1991. When she was in with me it was for a violation. It appears there’s a good chance she even did a year and a half in prison. The burglary shocked me. I can’t picture this little old lady having the guts to burglarize anyplace.

This was just a site that gave basic information on cases. Not a news article. I can’t believe they list people’s addresses! And why? Do they want people like Ida and I to be hurt by our enemies, or what? Knowing that the freeloaders know where we live while we don’t know where they live is very unnerving.

Speaking of freeloaders, I went to look for dirty laundry on Joebitch, knowing she’s got to have some somewhere, but all I found was a dead link to the slanderish article the Arizona Republic did that Teddy Bear read. All I read was something about her “5-year ordeal with a hate crime.”

Oh, poor, poor little black bitch. How many years will my ordeal be? How many years will you victimize me?

Fucking mother-fucking sick bitch!!! Aaaarrrrggghhh!!!

As far as Mary goes - if I didn’t know her, I’d say she was a sick and very twisted individual after reading what I read. But I do know her, and I know how the media lies and hypes things up, though most of it was what Mary herself told me.

Her ex abused her son James here in Arizona and they were both to stand trial for that. Then she had Gretchen and they fled to Florida where he killed Gretchen while Mary was at work. Mary panicked, knowing they couldn’t call the authorities and was afraid to leave Justin, so they buried her in a shallow grave before fleeing to Seattle where they both got jobs. That’s when the authorities finally caught up to them. So Mary’s charged with violating by leaving Arizona, with neglect for not getting medical help for Gretchen, though I assume she was already dead by the time she got home, and is testifying against Justin for abusing James.

The fact that I haven’t heard from Mary in a couple of weeks made me wonder if they’d extradited her, but Justin doesn’t stand trial till October. It doesn’t seem likely that they’d move her anytime soon. I don’t know what’s going on, or if someone intercepted my mail to her or hers to me, but I’ll give it another couple of weeks or so before I call the jail and find out if she’s there. I’ll then write to her there if she is, but if not, I’ll write the Florida address she gave me.

Through my binoculars, I saw what appeared to be a fat, middle-aged white guy at Dan’s. I don’t know what to think anymore. Maybe Dan’s renting the new place while being in Indiana throughout the summer, or maybe he sold the place to a relative and that’s why his last name’s still on the box.

We saw quite a cute sight outside. A mother quail with its 7 babies following it. It’s so cute how they follow right along like they do.

I decided to quit dieting and working out. Why build muscle you can barely see? Why diet when diets don’t work? I’m fat and that’s that. If I decide someday I just have to be thin, I’ll lose weight the only real way I can – by starving it off. Then, in order to keep it off, I’ll starve myself like every other day.

Slept in late. Saturday’s my day to eat all I want and Sunday’s my day to sleep all I want.

I hemmed a pair of pants for Tom and sewed some seams that were tearing in a pair of shorts of mine.

We went out and got blizzards from Dairy Queen in the early evening. This time I got a Reese’s Peanut Butter blizzard.

Mom’s daycare center closed, so we let them know that I would be willing to stay with her at home, full or part-time. I like the idea of looking out for her and working with only one person and one I get along with, but the hours are going to be a nightmare for me. Damn God to hell for making me nocturnal! You don’t know what a bitch it makes life when you’re a night person. Tom would have to take me on the way to work and pick me up afterward. I don’t like the idea of having to get up at 4:00 in the morning, though. That’d be really hard to adapt to. Actually, I’d never adapt to it. You can’t make a day person a night person, nor can you make a night person a day person. It’d always be hard on me. I don’t think they’re going to want me for the job, though, but we’ll see. I have mixed emotions about it. I want to do it for the extra money and because I’m sick of society bashing homemakers, but I wish it could be at night!

Later…

I’ve been totally lacking the energy and motivation to do things lately. I just wish I wasn’t nocturnal and so sleep-needy! I crashed around 4 AM and couldn’t drag myself out of bed till noon, and even then I was still tired. I ended up napping for nearly 4 hours, getting up at 7 PM. I said, “Fuck Scot, fuck the freeloaders!” I need to live my life for me and sleep when I need to. I can’t be stumbling around exhausted all week for these people who own and control my life in ways I never dreamed possible. At least I could sleep when we all lived together, though I did go to sleep stressing out over them.

Anyway, like I said, I lack the drive to do things. The only thing I’ve done consistently is work on my jailhouse book. Of course, I still take care of the animals. The day I lack the energy and motivation to feed them and to change their cages would be the day I’d stop having animals. I mean things like housecleaning, working out, etc. I’m way ahead on the bottle bullshit, but that’s about it. The loss of motivation towards working out is easy to explain, though. Knowing I can’t lose 15-20 pounds is what dampens my desire to work out, and knowing I couldn’t keep it off if I could, doesn’t help, either. I have to try to see it for what its only purpose could ever be – to keep my muscles stronger. Meanwhile, I’ll just never shed the outer layer of fat.