64º and mostly sunny on Friday; next door’s certainly going to annoy me then. Sure do get a lot more rain here than in Arizona, but any place gets more rain than Arizona! I doubt I’d ever get sick of rain like I do with the cold and the snow. The weather’s erratic here like back east. You can have snow one day, sunshine the next, and rain the next. Fortunately, most of the snowfall doesn’t stick, or it at least melts off in a few hours.

Haven’t seen Bev today, but she was here for many hours yesterday. So was a couple (with the big black lab) in a dark pickup that hauled the washer and dryer away that she said belonged to her daughter.

I have an offer for Mary. One that’ll help us both out. If she can agree to keep it to just one or two letters a week that aren’t novels, I’ll type them up and send them to her aunt to send to José. And if she’ll agree to send a book of stamps each month, I’ll use my own envelopes, paper and ink. This will pay me for the postage as well as for doing the work and for the usage of my own supplies. She’ll just have to tell her aunt that if there’s ever a lag in the letters, it’s because the printer went on the fritz, but I’ll keep typing them up till it’s fixed and send whatever got delayed.

My day started off with one hell of a delightful shocker. I won $50 in one of the daily picture puzzle contests!!! Not the Lucky Surf Lotto message I’d have preferred, saying I won a million bucks, but nice nonetheless. So Memolink did “pay off” after all, because I learned of this picture site through them. Now all I have to do is hope one of my pictures wins something! I’m still waiting to see if they’re going to publish the last one I submitted with Bailey holding a Barbie. Anyway, I had to reply to their email with my current address, and they said I’d receive the money in two weeks. Let’s hope so! They also provided a space for me to add a comment. I said that I was shocked to have won, and thanked them for having such fun contests! Perhaps I’ll take $15 of it for a Barbie, or $20 to try that other incense site. I’m not sure if they’re sending a check or a gift certificate of some kind. I want cash so I can just take $20 of it and use the rest to move with, but I also wish it would be a certificate so I can use the whole thing online. I’m sure it will be a check, though. That way we’ll have to lose a percentage of it just getting it cashed. We’ll try to open an account somewhere, but I doubt we’ll be able to. Only one winner per household every 6 months is allowed, but when we move I’ll just sign up in Tom’s name.

Tom made a timer program for me yesterday because my dial timer had to go and break. It’s mine, so of course it did! The program is great for cooking and working out. It does just what I need it to do.

Sheriff Joe was in the news again. The little cock made the inmates walk – no march – to the new jail they opened up in their boxers and flip-flops. Yeah, that’s something the old bastard would do. Next thing you know he’ll make them walk around naked. I wonder if he’s cut them down to just one meal a day yet. What I wonder more is why no one’s killed the crazy loon yet.

They selected a German pope. Great. So now we can have a “world leader” who hates both Jews and gays. Just what the world needs.

I just went over and asked Bev, like Tom and I would’ve done yesterday if she’d have come by, to ask about the washer and dryer in her garage, and it’s a damn good thing I did, too. It turned out to be a rather educational visit.

First of all, the reason she moved is that she married her ex. The one that knocked her teeth out. They own a house that will be paid off in 12 years (if they’re still together by then). That’s why her daughter was in town with all 6 grandkids for those two thunderous days, in which she said she admitted we must’ve heard quite well. She says she thinks all duplexes should have garages between them. Me too! Especially out here where they seem to be just one story, unlike back east where they’re two stories. Well, three, counting the cellar.

The washer and dryer belong to her daughter who I assume is really her daughter-in-law who I also assume moved out of town, which would explain why the animals stopped coming around every month and why they stayed there for two days. She said we should’ve come around earlier because she Goodwilled a lot of things. Oh well. Once again, there are never any breaks dealt to Tom and Jodi.

She wanted to leave her drapes behind but was told to get them down or else they’d charge her to take them down themselves, so now I know not to leave the shower curtain here. I also now know to have Tom get the smoke detector and the doorbell hooked back up the instant we give notice, and I’ll have to pull the foil out of the bedroom window by mom and daughter because that’s when they’ll start showing the place. Bev said she got a letter in the mail right after she gave notice, saying they would be sending people to look at the place. That silver car and dark handicapped van were actually people checking the place out. The silver car belonged to the young chick that gave me bad vibes. Bev said she was a hippie with virtually every part of her body pierced. The good news is that it’s going to the old lady in the van, whom Bev thinks is by herself. Good, now let’s just hope she has no grandkids under 12!!!

I’ll get these dolls packed right before we give notice, too. Knowing how mothers tend to be these days (if any show up to see the place with little kids), it’s going to be our responsibility to see that it doesn’t get into things.

As for the rat; I’ll have to put him in the wire cage and put him in the closet, making sure to keep one side open so they can see into the closet. If I kept both doors shut, they may want to take a peek and open the wrong side.

It takes a lot of stress off me to know the place is going to an old lady. Hopefully, she isn’t into blasting bassy stereos! It’s probably only because we’re almost out of here. I’ll bet if we were looking at staying here indefinitely, the hippie mama would’ve gotten it.

She said it didn’t cost her much to get in here and that they were basically like, “Come on in, honey.” Whatever. She is paid up till the 1st, so that’ll leave us with two months of what will hopefully be a nice, quiet little old lady with not much company since I’m sure she’ll be home all the time. Of course, I don’t know what “old” is as far as Bev is concerned. The older the better. That way, if she has kids who have kids of their own, they’d be more likely to be older.

I still wouldn’t want to stay here, even if he got a job close by, because I still don’t like being attached to others, and having next door so close. Being next to a house may up the odds of being with dogs, but some dogs aren’t left out 24/7 here, and they wouldn’t be attached to us.

She does have carpet over there, after all (she had told me she didn’t). It’s hideously ugly. It’s not sculpted, but it’s two-toned with shades of booger green and yellow-green. Tom would hate it, too. Perhaps that throw rug came from her bedroom. You can’t see into the bedroom from the doorway, so who knows?

Apparently, there was a leak at one time along the top corner of the dividing wall.

Shit! It’s almost May and it’s snowing! There are some rain and hail mixed in, too.

Anyway, when Bev’s bass and grandkids weren’t going bump and bang, she was cool. All in all and in the end, she was a good neighbor compared to others we’ve had to live with in the past.

We talked about how much worse the winters are in the east and how we’d be snowbound and often go over the allotted snow days from school and have to make it up at the end of the year. It’s bad enough here too, and I can’t wait till the day we get to California! I know it’ll be noisier, but by distancing ourselves from areas where they’re all huddled in close, we should be ok. Especially if we can have some trees around us, or better yet, walls of hedges.

She also said that when her husband was getting the drapes down, he gouged his hand with the screwdriver so badly that they had to race him off for a tetanus shot. Meanwhile, she’s still cleaning. I take it she’s either going very slowly, or the place was seriously trashed.

Not surprisingly, they’re having days in the 90s down in Arizona. The 5-cast shows mostly 80s for Maricopa and 70s for Sacramento.

We’re going to the thrift store soon. Meanwhile, I asked Bob if blank incense sticks go bad in time because I noticed lately that they’ve been leaving a smoky smell behind. It’s almost as if someone were smoking a cigarette along with burning the incense.

I got a puzzle at the thrift store yesterday. I hope to do it before the newcomers arrive to steal my peace and concentration.

Someone came by today to pick up some old junk Bev had in her garage, but they gave up and left after she failed to show up. I guess they were volunteers at a used appliance store or something.

She and Romeo were here yesterday for most of the day. I still can’t imagine what they were doing. Perhaps painting, though I’d think that that would be the owner’s job. And is she really paid up till the 1st, or is she gone for good now? No one’s been by yet today. The blinds, bench and wind chimes are still there, but it looks like she may’ve taken the drapes down from inside. I went to check the mail yesterday and saw a vacuum sitting in the middle of her otherwise seemingly empty living room.

It’s been wonderful not having her live there over the weekend in case she had any animals over, though I just hope to hell she hasn’t gone to leave us with something much worse! Since we’re probably not going to make it out of here till July, rather than June, that leaves us with two months of having to deal with whatever comes in there next.

Next door hung out back for hours and went in and out like crazy on Friday, but yesterday’s rain put a damper on that. It’s still too early for much activity to start up over there. Tom saw one guy barbecuing on Friday, but still no knife-tossing.

After the thrift store yesterday, we went to K-Mart and I got a few cheap packs of incense, and a trial-size can of perfume, and he got a phone card but hasn’t been able to activate it yet.

Then we went to a used bookstore. They took most of my books and I picked up 5 new ones for myself.

We also went to an indoor flea market to see if they had any bikes or washers. We didn’t find anything of interest there, though we ended up chatting with a woman who had several PG dolls and had even worse experiences with them. We simply had to fight for the dolls and get our money back on the last one I tried to get that they ran out of, but at least in the end, we did get the dolls and money. This woman, though, said she lost money to them. They sent a doll minus its accessories and were told she had to send the doll back before she could get them. So she sent the doll back, but instead of sending back the doll with its accessories, they kept the doll and claimed they never got it. Does PG want to lose customers?

Our last stop was at Burger King. I can’t believe I haven’t gained any weight with all I’ve been eating! That brings us to our current plan. Giving notice on May 1st would be too risky. We may not come up with the money in time, though finding a place won’t be an issue. There are always places available. We agreed, though, that if we limit ourselves to $40 a week in groceries, which should be easy enough to do and worth the hunger, we can give our notice in June and get out of here in July. I don’t like the idea of spending 75 more days here, but we have no choice. Tom assures me that we won’t get trapped in here past July. Let’s hope not!

I got a letter from Mary yesterday saying she got my book, it looks great so far, and she’s honored to read it.

She says the officers are cool there, but she doesn’t write about them because they read her letters. I wonder why they read her letters. They must read mine too, not that I care.

She said she was sorry our computers were having problems and then wrote a prayer of protection. Gee, that’ll help us!

I don’t know why she returned the Oregon pictures I sent her, but oh well. I’ll just split them between Bob and Paula.

Later…

The Salvation Army, and a used appliance store we just drove to, are closed. I still can’t understand why any business would want to be closed on a Sunday when most people aren’t working. Before we went, I told Tom I didn’t vibe a washer this weekend, but the good news is that I vibe tomorrow being the last time he’ll have to play Laundromat at least until we’re out of this damn state.

Today was the first day that Bev didn’t show up at all. Now I’m starting to think she’ll be turning in her keys tomorrow, which could put the newcomers here before the 1st. Ugh!

Bob emailed me back saying that the blanks won’t go bad as long as they don’t get wet, but if they do, lay them out in the sun to dry. Also, he can get the original Angel, but it’d cost 4 times more, and although he hates Patchouli, it’s his number one seller.

We went out in search of a new washer. One thrift store had one for $40, but it was sold. They had a really nice little hand-painted bench there that’d be perfect for my pair of kissing dolls. Meanwhile, Tom’s going to go back tomorrow to check on other washers they’re expecting to be dropped off. He has to go out anyway to find out why the phone card he got doesn’t work by calling an 800 number from a payphone.

Bev and Romeo came by at 7:30 yesterday evening, but only long enough to put their trash out. She hasn’t shown up yet today, the day I think she’ll be turning in her keys and leaving the patio furniture, blinds and wind chimes. She’s also got drapes in the living and dining room windows.

My horoscope says: You’ve just about had it with being where you are – and even more so with doing the same thing you do every day. Is there a chance you can do something about this? Of course there is.

Is there really? Because somehow I doubt we’ll be giving notice on the 1st. The question then will be how to handle what comes in next door. Do I bother to ask them to lower their music? Do I bother to ask them to curb the banging? I’m hoping that Pam will use her best judgment when it comes to who goes over there like she did with us for Bev, but she can’t always know for sure what she’s dealing with. A seemingly nice woman could want the place, never letting on that she’s got tons of kids, boyfriends and other company coming around constantly and even living with her. I think that’s what happened before we got here. The woman probably claimed to live alone or just with a boyfriend or just with one child, not mentioning that she really had 4 kids, though some could’ve been her boyfriend’s.

Poor Tom! I feel so bad for him, as tolerant as he is, for marrying into a noise curse, as I tell him, because now he’s got to deal with it too, and I know that even he gets annoyed at times. He found Bev to be just as annoying as I did. The only difference is that he’s a heavy sleeper and I’m not.

It’s going to be in the low 60s today, so I’m sure next door will spend even more time outdoors than they did yesterday in the 50s. They’re already going back and forth, making catcalls, and I wouldn’t be surprised if later on brought on some knife-tossing.

God’s been sure to attack our computers and other stuff more often lately since we have no well to fix, no trash to burn, no hot water tanks or other things to fix. I’m having trouble booting up again. My dial-timer also had to break too, so he downloaded me a timer. It’s not as easy to use as the dial timer, but it’s better than nothing. I like to use timers when cooking/working out.

Oh, how these fucking rappers piss me off! These groups are nothing but legal fronts for gang members. Has the country really come to love “niggaz,” as they call themselves, that much to allow convicted drug dealers, pimps, rapists, thieves and murderers like them to profit from their crimes through their rapping bullshit? And are there any “niggaz” today that can sing without mentioning race, homies, hoes, gangs, drugs, etc.? They’re such second-class citizens and I don’t care what anyone says!

Bev spent two hours here yesterday doing what Tom thinks is cleaning. But now she’s back again and it’s been nearly two hours again. That’s a hell of a lot of cleaning to do if that’s what she’s doing! She’s not as bangy today, yet not giving her the bass treatment was just too much easier said than done, so I did while I did some singing. It’s just that she stressed me out so horribly on Easter! Not like they did in the NHA and PHX, but it was bad enough. Her having the animals over to shake the place apart brought it all back. Like I said, though, the more I try to escape or forget something, the more someone/something is right there to remind me about it all over again. There is no escape other than temporary ones. God probably waited till now to have the gas prices get out of hand just to keep us in the city, be it K-Falls or Sacramento. Well, I wouldn’t mind staying in the city and enjoying the convenience it brings if people weren’t so noisy. If we could just have a house where the neighbors didn’t make their business ours, then I’d be fine with staying in the city.

Anyway, just seconds after I ran into the kitchen after singing, she banged on the wall. At least it sounded like that’s what she did. I thought someone was at the door at first. The question is, was she fixing or cleaning something that caused her to bang like that? Or did she think we were suddenly in some sort of competition? Or was she telling me to shut up? It must be a hear-me-too thing because I can’t imagine her needing to go pounding on the wall like that, and that’s what it sounded like she did, and why would she care if I were noisy if she doesn’t live here anymore? In fact, today should be her last day here, if she’s paid up till the 15th like I think she is. She isn’t quite operating on a full deck, so I don’t know what to think, though I’m not stressing over it. I’m only stressing over what’s coming in next because I’m not stupid. I know we’re not going to be able to give our notice on the 1st. This means that we could very well have to live with whatever we get for a few months just like we had to live with the Mexican freeloaders for a few months before we could finally get out.

Tom was almost right in saying PHX is the fastest-growing city in the nation. Flagler County Florida is first, then a place near Chicago is second, with Maricopa County being third.

An Oregon judge nullified the licenses of 3,000 gays who married before they banned gay marriage here. I knew they would. I tell you, it will be 100% illegal nationwide sooner or later, unlike Tom who thinks it’ll be legal nationwide within 20 years. Yes, people may be more accepting and tolerant than they were, but there’s still too much hate to ever be able to kill it enough to allow them equal or greater rights like the blacks got. I still think that gay or straight, no one “needs” to get married when you can just live together. Especially since most marriages do end in divorce or friendships such as ours. Do you know how many couples I’ve met/heard of that “lost the lust” over time, even if they continued to love each other dearly? Quite a few! I guess people just don’t think of this when they marry, not that I regret marrying Tom. Still, they ought to do away with all marriages and save themselves from a lot of headaches.

The hypo left. She never came over with Romeo yesterday evening like I thought she would. If she’s left for good, she’s leaving the blinds, bench, dresser and wind chimes behind.

I wonder if Bev’s last two visitors who came in vehicles I’d never seen before may be moving in next. I never saw the driver of the handicap-equipped van, but I sure hope the chick with the silver car isn’t planning on moving in. I only caught a quick glimpse of her, but she had “mother” written all over her. As in mother of little kids who can’t sit still and who don’t know the meaning of the word “walk.” They could’ve also come to see if they wanted anything Bev didn’t want to take with her. I was over there in back yesterday. I couldn’t see inside because she still has drapes in some of the windows which are too high. On the patio, though, she’s got an old wooden bench and an old dresser. The blinds and wind chimes are still up, too. She and Romeo made a couple of trips in to get more stuff, but it appeared to be stuff from the garage.

I got a letter from Mary. Again, if she could’ve just waited for my response when she asked if I wanted her to send manila envelopes to mail her stuff in, she’d know that she didn’t need to send me two manila envelopes to send her stamps/envelopes to her friend Martha, but I appreciate her sending them nonetheless. I can’t believe they went through. I weighed it, and it was definitely over just one stamp. Again I told her to please watch that. I also told her I’d be cutting back on my letters since we’re so broke and the cost of stamps adds up. She digs all the envelopes I’ve been sending. Too bad I can’t send her some. I’ve still got tons of them.

I misunderstood her as far as hearing from José. I was under the impression it had been months since she or her family had heard from him. However, he has been in touch with the aunt, though it’s been a few weeks since she’s heard from him.

She is so damn foolish and naïve at times! She’s trying to get officially divorced from Justin in a month and now she wants to marry José. I guess that way they’d be allowed to correspond. Just how the hell do inmates marry from jail anyway? Do they simply fill out a form? Will they bring him to her jail or her to his for a little ceremony, or what?

I agree with her – pussies are ugly. When I’m attracted to a particular woman, it’s on an overall basis and not for her pussy. I won’t even go down on one, nor will I suck dick. I’ll cater to them with my hands, but other than that, I’m selfish. Meaning, I’d rather be the submissive one. The only time I didn’t dig the idea of one-sided sex was when I wanted a kid and he wouldn’t do his part or at least get help in doing his part (after the fact, though, I’m glad he didn’t!). I feel the same way about Tom that she does about José, whereas if he were suddenly disfigured, I’d still love him and be by his side, but if I were single, I’d want to start off with some attraction. I never did dig beautiful assholes or ugly sweethearts. I kind of like to be able to have my cake and eat it, too.

From what she’s described, she’s in a huge dorm. She says there are 3 to a cell and never less than 40 inmates – yuck!!! I can see how it must be roaring with noise between 7 AM - 10 PM. That poor thing. I don’t know how she does it for so damn long!

I had assumed that Hope would be out in a decade, not that that’s not a small century in itself, but according to Mary, the poor girl has to do all 40 years of her sentence! I hope she deserved the sentence she got if that’s the case. I guess she’s in on child abuse. She must’ve been one hell of an abusive mother to get 40 years, but Arizona sentenced her, so she could’ve done nothing more than give her kid(s) a rough spanking. I wonder if she’s still as good-looking as she once was with her long straight red hair. She and Johnson were the only redheads I was ever attracted to. I told Mary she can give her my address and that if she’s not homophobic (she better not be if she’s going to survive 40 years of prison), we can be pen pals, and I’ll respect her straighthood. She was so hot that I’d love being pen pals with her, even though I know I’ll never see her again, much less get it on with her.

Later…

Bev’s here. She let me know it with a few loud bumps and bangs which I acknowledged with a few tremendously bassy songs and some thunderous running back and forth. I’m sure she got the message, but now I’m going to knock it off so that she or next door doesn’t go complaining and complicate our lives even more for us. You know how it is; everyone’s got a hold on Tom and Jodi, but Tom and Jodi themselves. Anyway, Bev will probably return later with Romeo in his truck when he gets off of work, and he does appear to work somewhere. I still think she’s paid up till the 15th, which means that the newcomers should arrive on the 1st. I’m going to enjoy every minute we can get of not having to be stuck to anybody!

When I was taking a shower about an hour ago, I heard next door shout out something. It could’ve been someone shouting from the street, but I don’t think so. Through the cascading water, I couldn’t make out what was said.

Another possibility just hit me as to why next door might’ve been talking to Bev and why they’d climb over the fence to do it. To see her place. They might’ve asked Pam if they had another unit available soon for yet another family member (maybe the son), and Pam may’ve told them Bev was moving and so they went over to see it. I hope no one they know moves in there! Even if we are only here a month, them going back and forth on one side of our place is one thing, but to have them all around us would be no fun at all! There are a lot of people over there. Every time I go out, I see 3-4 cars parked there. A lot of cars for people who never go anywhere, but someone’s got to get things like groceries.

Tom said he doubts Bev’s side would be quieter because there’s someone with a shop that does woodworking two houses down and it’s very loud. He says he hears them when he goes to get the mail. I guess their shop sticks way out in back and so it’s a straight shot to Bev’s bedroom window.

I hear periodic banging sprees coming from over there, and when I put my ear to the wall, I couldn’t make out what was being said, but again, it was the same voice. I know she’s alone too, because if she had anyone with her, they’d have to sit on her lap when she goes to leave because I saw her load the back seat as well as the front passenger seat with shit. She’s been here quite a while now. Maybe she’s waiting for Romeo.

How nice it is having the whole place to myself! Literally. I cranked up the stereo and did some singing this morning, and if next door heard it, I don’t care! I’m sure they didn’t, though, unless it was during a time when they were going back and forth. I’ll make sure I don’t get too carried away with it so management doesn’t end up hearing about it and cause us to have a hard time renting a house.

Tom thinks no one will move in next door till after we’re gone. No way. There’s no possible way it’d stay empty for 7 weeks.

Tom had used Meagan as his first reference when applying at Walmart and the transmission place, only to find she’s no longer with the chick she was going to marry, and that she moved last September. He suspects that Meagan’s ex may’ve claimed to be Meagan, either out of spite or as a joke, when they called there, and that she said bad things about him. He said he’ll probably start using local references, but that he thinks that’s why he didn’t get the job at either place. Even if it is, the main reason is still the curse that’s bound and determined to hold us back financially. Like I said, I’ve pretty much resigned myself to the fact that he’s not going to make much more than minimum wage for years. We may have a little more money someday, though, when we own a place outright and he gets his AMEX pension, though the bulk of the extra money will have to go to fixing the place up. That’s ok, though. It’d be worth it. The only problem is that this is years away from happening.

My bed has sprung a leak. Right on time, too (it’s been 3 months since I got the last bed). The good news, though, is that it’s a very small leak, so it’s going down slowly. I blew it up before bed. When I woke up, it was noticeably softer, but I didn’t bottom out. Friday I’ll have him get a new one and I’ll really cut back like hell on groceries to make up for it since it’s going to cost about $16. I’ll then bump a new bed up in front of the mannequin. So after we move and get my teeth done, I’ll save for a double-raised bed that’s way thicker. These here are so damn delicate. I swear they’re no thicker than a typical freezer bag!

No mail from Mary. I wonder if she’s pissed because I won’t help her with José. That’d be being a real spoiled little brat if she was. It could be because I just sent her a book. Whenever I send books, it seems I don’t hear from her for a while. The question is, is she going to think of a zillion new favors to ask of me when I do?

Bev’s moving. I’m surprised it took this long. I thought she’d be gone after our first month or two here. It explains a lot of things like the escalated banging, the multiple trips in and out, the backing in, and the I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude she took on Easter. Romeo was here yesterday with his truck and some other guy. At first we wondered if they were hauling stuff out of her garage, which Tom saw was chock full of furniture and other shit when he was coming back from checking the mail one day. We could see through the garage window today on our walk to Burger King and it’s still full of stuff. She hasn’t even taken down her wind chimes or moved any of the stuff on her back patio. Her bedroom blinds are now wide open. I can see straight through to the wall of the neighboring house.

We’ve agreed to give our notice on May 1st and get out of here on June 1st. It isn’t just that I want a house, but we need to get a place closer to where he works so he can stop using the truck and either walk or ride a bike to work. It’s now costing more than a dollar a day in gas for him to go to/from work! We hope to pick up a couple of used bikes soon enough, as well as a used washer for $40 or so and start doing our own laundry which will be way cheaper than going to Laundromats.

She and Romeo made their first trip over here around 1 PM, and now they’re here on their second trip. Wherever she’s moved to isn’t that far, judging by how fast they returned yesterday to load up after dumping off each load. She’s probably moving in with him in a house. I really hope they come around while Tom’s at work (loud music would annoy Tom in a place this small) because I’d really like for them to listen to my bass go thump, thump, thump while they’re moving shit out. They’re banging like hell right now. I just hope to hell Tom’s right in assuming she’s paid up till the 1st, and that they’d need at least a week to carpet/clean the place, which would leave us with about 3 weeks to listen to whatever comes to go bump, bang and bass in there next. I’m sure that at this very minute, God’s up there thinking, hmm, who can I send to pick on Jodi? Well, I’m sure it’ll be a person(s) who’s very loud, very annoying, and home all the time. I’m not sure if dogs are even allowed here, but I wonder what will be worse – the banging or the bass? I think I’ll hear more from kids than from music. I hope they have trouble renting the place because it’s on such a busy street, but I know I could never get that lucky. I’m sure the newcomers will arrive before the month is out or by the 1st at the latest, leaving us with more like 5 or 6 weeks to have to deal with their shit.

A part of me wonders if she did have two 2-year leases since it’s coming up on May, the month she said she moved in two years ago. Another part wonders if she’s moving because we are, not wanting to take a chance on what may come in here next.

I just hope to hell we have no problem getting out of here and that it’s not going to be too noisy where we move to or a nightmare in here before we can escape this place! Then, once we do get moved, we can put the entire deposit in my mouth and get these cavities taken care of once and for all. Then, while we slowly save for the California move, I’ll save for the mannequin. I want to get it before we leave Oregon because the site I may buy it from is in California, and we’d have to pay sales tax if we bought it there when we moved there. After the move, the teeth and the mannequin, I think I’ll go for a double-raised airbed and then either some shelves or a computer desk. This will take years to come, but it’ll come (I hope!).

We walked to Burger King this morning. It took us 20 minutes each way. It was a nice walk. Only a few yards had dogs in them, but because it was fairly early, not many people were out and about. Although I still prefer cactuses and palms, the flowers that are starting to bloom, along with the budding leaves, were nice to see. Wind chimes are a big thing around here too, so it seems. The diversity of the houses is nice to see. They come in different shapes and sizes and aren’t all on one floor. In Phoenix, they all looked the same.

Yesterday we went to Antonio’s and K-Mart. Antonio’s wasn’t all that great, but did I think God would let me have something wonderful for free? He had linguini in meat sauce, and instead of getting a meal, I got two appetizers. I got crab cakes which tasted a little funny, and steamed clams in a buttery wine sauce. It all cost us just 44¢ and as broke as we are, we didn’t bother to leave a tip. Besides, we don’t plan on returning. I pictured a fancy place like Red Lobster, but it was actually kind of small and café-like. The room had hardwood floors and tables that were too small. There were no booths. No kids, either, but 6 loud-mouthed adults instead. I guess one was having a birthday party.

K-Mart didn’t have the perfume I wanted, so I got some incense and a new friend of Barbie’s named Madison instead. This is the doll with the big head and big feet that looks sort of cartoon-like, yet has a nice face and outfit. I thought she had detachable feet, but instead she just has big shoes with flesh-tone on some parts of the shoe. I like 2 of the 4 dolls in this series, including Barbie, which I’ll get some other time. Although this doll is black, she doesn’t have overly dark skin or hair. The big feet and head make her about a half-inch taller than regular Barbies.

I got some rose oil and dipped a blank stick in it. Not long after I began to air it out, it lost its dark brown color and faded back to the tan color they are when they’re blank. I can’t keep it lit either, so I don’t know if I just need to let it dry longer or what.

They now sell electric warmers which I’d much rather have over the light bulb ring so I don’t have to have a light on when burning oils.

I read a page or two of my book that he rewrote, and while the story was wonderful and he had many good suggestions and advice to give me as far as enhancing the story and making it more believable, as well as fleshing out the characters, he made some errors. Most errors were with punctuation, but there were a few errors with tenses as well. It also wasn’t my story anymore. I mean, it was, but it wasn’t. So we agreed that I’d do the rewriting of the book. I need to learn to do most of this on my own anyway. Then he’ll give it a final read-through so we can do any final editing that may need to be done, then we’ll submit it.

He loaded a Spanish learning program on my computer, which I want to go through to brush up on some of the grammatical problems I have, and it’s so way cool! If only I could’ve learned with this to begin with.

They just left. They took the washer, dryer and grill this time around. I can’t believe she didn’t barbecue while she was here. Better yet, I can’t believe next door hasn’t moved as well. Then again, why would God have them move? They get annoying.

Later…

She just left after her third trip here, this time with just Romeo in his big old ugly gray pickup. I doubt they’ll be back anymore tonight, so we have the whole house to ourselves!

Right now it’s dreary, cold and snowy, but I’m sure that by lunchtime, the sun will pop out and melt the snow, and out will come next door and Bev’s company. I asked Tom why he thought she was banging more often over there, even though it’s nothing like when the animals are here, and he said it’s because the people are crazy here now that it’s spring. People think they’ve been “trapped” all winter. It’s true that springtime does have a way of perking one up. I can vouch for that from all the years I lived back east. However, they’re getting a bit of a jump start on it. It’s not that nice out. Especially right now.

Tom said he saw a heavy teenage girl outside next door as he was pulling up yesterday. Yeah, I heard her chatter for about fifteen minutes. See, I still think there are more people living there than anyone knows. This would account for all the traffic and why all the fat chicks seem to keep changing ages.

Whoever visited in the navy van didn’t stay long or make any racket, but I just don’t see us giving our notice on the first as planned. Nothing ever goes “as planned” for us. I think we could very well be here another 6 months to a year. Maybe even until we go to California. Why oh why is God so obsessed with me being in places I don’t want to be??? I keep telling myself to get used to it since our problems are always long-term and since I know we’ve got many years to go of having to live like this. We’re going to live huddled in with others for however many years we’ll be stuck in this damn state, then we’ll probably have to play motel for God knows how long down in California before we can hopefully – hopefully – get a rural rental to live comfortably in till we buy something.

The question is, how will we save to move to California if no one will give him a better-paying job? Maybe, as much as it’ll drive me crazy, we should move to an apartment that’s 1 or 2 hundred dollars cheaper than this so we can save to get out of here.

Oh well. At least I have the weekend to look forward to. Since $20 isn’t going to make or break us, we’re going to go out to Antonio’s on Saturday, then do a little shopping at thrift stores and K-Mart. On Sunday we’re going to walk to Burger King so I can get their delicious caramel cheesecake.

I hope they pick up the trash real soon, but the weather may slow them down. The wind already blew the pail over once, but fortunately its contents didn’t scatter and I could pick it back up easily enough.

The hypo’s tossing out a big throw rug. That may explain the sounds I heard yesterday. She told me a while back that she didn’t have carpet.

It’s been days since I worked on my story, so I’m going to put on the sound machine so no one around here distracts me, and get to work.

Later…

The snow, even though most of it has melted, does a better job of keeping people put than the rain does. I still hear scattered sounds coming from next door, though I’m still not sure if she’s alone or what. You would think that she wouldn’t have overnight company too often, but the question is, how many more times will the animals visit for 7 hours at a time before we get out of here?

The kid curse definitely started with the NHA. I don’t know why, but it’s like those kids have been following me around everywhere I’ve gone since I left there 13 years ago. Before that, there were no kids in the buildings I lived in prior to that, even though there could’ve been. Ever since the NHA, however, if they can be near me, they will be near me.

Tom installed a way cool program on my computer that equalizes the volumes of my MP3s. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty damn good.

When I was lotioning up after my shower, just after 7 AM, I thought I heard someone knocking on one of Bev’s doors, but then I realized she was hammering. And I had thought she was considerate and respectful? Oh, well. I did tell her I don’t have a schedule when she told me she tries not to do anything too early, and I’m sure she figured months ago that he’s gone by then. Still, I stomped across the place just so she could hear me, too!

Mom and daughter were in the yard talking to her yesterday evening. I don’t think they knocked on her door, so I guess she was either out back or saw them hop over the fence to perhaps look for their cats, and went out to see them. We couldn’t make out anything they said, and I only saw them on their way back over the fence. The daughter’s older than I thought. She’s got to be in her 40s. The mother, who’s not as tall and wide as her daughter, looked ridiculous in a funny way. First of all, she had no pants on. Just a T-shirt that barely reached her spindly chicken legs that didn’t seem to go with her wide, round upper body. Anyway, my guess is that it was cat-related. I’ve never known them to chat before, and Bev never said anything about it either. Still, if all we have to get to is 60º to bring these people out, I hate to think of what the 70s and 80s will do. It may be better in August when it gets too hot, but then they’d probably come out at night. I just hope we aren’t here by then to find out! I know it’s mild compared to other places I’ve lived, but I’m sick of being squeezed in the middle here while doors slam on one side and Bev goes bump and bang on the other. It’s time to get wedged into other noise sources where I can at least hope to blast my stereo and jog around if I wanted to!

I’m looking way forward to getting these teeth dealt with. Although I feel more discomfort than pain, I’m sure anyone unafraid of dentists would be as eager as I am!

If I could snap my fingers and jump us up 7 years to owning a place outright/his AMEX pension checks, I would not hesitate! It’s stressful enough worrying about things we own breaking and paying the bills, so to have the stress of what the neighbors may do to butt into our lives on top of it all, really adds to it. I know I’m dreaming, but I still picture us one day in a secluded place, with a big enough house that’s not too big, comfy, and happy, going shopping once or twice a month, eating out once or twice a month, not having any serious problems other than the usual day to day shit, laying in bed together talking or reading on a double bed while the nearest neighbors are pretty much a big old mystery to us. Dogs aren’t out barking on and off throughout the day/night even though we’re in a warm climate. We can enjoy our inflatable pool and not have to scrounge for things to sell so we can survive.

Later…

I think I just figured out what’s going on with Bev and why she parks backed in so much. I had just walked up to the window when I saw her pull in, then swing over onto the lawn to turn around so she’d be backed in. She’s been going out 4 times a day, staying out longer the last time she goes out. Here’s what I think is the case: I think she turns around in her driveway to make it easier to get out onto this very busy 35 MPH road. It is much easier to turn around in the yard than to back out. I think the first time she goes out is to bring him to work. The second time is to pick him up for lunch. The third is to bring him back to work. The fourth is to bring him home. I figure they feel it’s easier if instead of bringing him here to visit, then bringing him home, she brings him home, visits with him there, then comes back alone (until the weekend). I hope he gets his damn truck going before we get out of here cuz of the dog! This is what I mean when I bitch about other people’s happenings affecting us.

Tom got another look at the single-wides and says they were definitely out because of the vacant lot that’s right by it. As he pointed out, kids of all kinds would be hanging out there constantly in the summer and then I really wouldn’t get any writing done!

We thought we’d have to pay for it, yet Tom was able to find this neighborhood-spy software that’s so, so cool! It wouldn’t let us see Maricopa, but we saw places in Phoenix and back east, as well as these duplexes and most of K-Falls. It’s pretty neat. We checked out Sacramento. It is huge, but not Phoenix or LA huge. It has a lot of promising-looking rural areas. Tom thinks we can get a place that’s 100-150 feet from the neighbors, but I’m afraid to even dare hope for that! I just hope I don’t have the tightness and allergies I had down south and that the dogs aren’t out barking up a storm day and night. Still, can’t wait for the day we move to California, my dream state!

Later…

Connecticut has approved a bill allowing civil unions but is still opposed to gay marriage. Right now, the only state that has gay marriage is Massachusetts, but what’s the damn difference? As long as they get equal rights, which they deserve, does it really matter what you call it? People and their damn labels! Anyway, the East is so much more liberal than the West, though I’d never want to live there again.

Maybe my Bev theories are wrong. She’s gone again, and well, it’s a little early for Romeo to be taking any breaks or going off to lunch.

It’s quite wet and rainy out there, but of course it doesn’t rain to the point where you have running water like down south.

Later…

I haven’t been able to concentrate on my current book to save my life. I don’t know why I’ve been so restless lately. Perhaps it is because I’m anxious to find out what’s going on with us. Are we really moving soon? Is he really stuck at MCX?

What the hell? I am getting so sick of the scattered series of bumps and bangs coming from Bev. What the hell is she doing over there? These aren’t animal bumps and bangs, but maybe she’s cleaning or working on her washer and dryer in the utility area. I first thought it was someone out on the back patio, but no one was there. It’s coming from her utility area. I think she’s sweeping it and may’ve swept the dust outside because I swear I heard the screen door close. Still, I miss the days when you wouldn’t hear a peep out of her for days on end. It’s like she too, is restless all of a sudden. It’s not that she’s noisy, but she distracts me and interrupts my train of thought.

It is so frustrating not to be able to act on what I just discovered! Every now and then I like to see who’s around and where, so I looked up some people on this new people search I just found. I got 3 listings for the black bitch. I thought it was weird that there’d be 3 people with the same name, but then I realized that they don’t always delete old addresses as people move, since I found Tom’s last address at the Phoenix house. They very well could’ve been different people, but they also had a Mark M at two Phoenix addresses I’ve known him to live at, along with his parent’s house back east. His Springfield Belmont Ave. apartment wasn’t listed, though. Perhaps his folks died and he moved back there. He did tell me that the house was going to be left to him. Then again, I’m wrong. It was their new condo that was to be left to him. One of his brothers moved into the house when the parents moved into the condo. Nonetheless, I may not be in Arizona, but the sick bitch is and she’s black. Therefore, I can’t use these addresses, if any of them are correct, for any purpose.

There are a million Jerry Os too, but I wouldn’t be able to begin to sort out which one might be the sicko pig.

I am, however, considering sending both Tammy and the folks a letter filled with all kinds of adventurous tales, some true, some false, just to tease them with the phony hope of a reunion. I just don’t think I can make up and play nicey-nice with them. I really don’t. But I can play with their heads. Perhaps I shouldn’t bother and perhaps it’s a bit childish, but I feel the need to do something. Well, not so much a need as a desire. You never know. It may get me back in their will after all, though I doubt it. The only real tall tale I would tell is that we were moved here because we’re in the witness protection program on account of the sickos we had to live with, and then they can all wonder if something happened to us when they fail to hear from me again anytime soon! Maybe the curiosity and the worry will eat at them like the pain and anger they’ve caused me still sometimes eats at me.

As for the queen, I figure one of 3 things will happen. We’ll fail to get a book published, they’ll keep giving us birthday, anniversary and Christmas money, and therefore they’ll never hear from me again. Or they’ll stop giving us that money and they’ll hear from me in a very big way. Or we’ll publish a book, they won’t stop giving us the money, and then I’ll inform them of the book while I “break it to them gently.” Meaning, I’ll give them a piece of my mind, but in a very quick and vague way as opposed to the downright blunt and mean way I’d like to give it to them, and the way I will give it to them if they do stop sending money. I don’t think they’ll stop sending us money, though, like I said, just so whatever’s up there can keep me from having the satisfaction of not holding back, short of threats and swears, of course.

Well, I guess I was wrong with my Bev theories. Her outings are too erratic to say for sure what’s going on or if she’s moving, but she and some chick just came out back to gab on the patio for a few minutes. At first I thought it was the neighbor, but unless she drove around the corner in the silver car that’s parked out front right now (I couldn’t get a good look at her description), it’s someone else. I put my ear to the back door, but couldn’t make out anything other than, “you can’t see it right now,” and “drive up and down,” and “coming back from the bar.” At least there are no animals there, but I swear this woman has more and more company by the day!

The cold and rain haven’t put a damper on next door’s going back and forth either.

Later…

Good, God! Now there’s a navy van of some kind over there. I was really worried at first because I thought it was the black Jeep with all the Easter animals, but it was clearly a different vehicle. This one’s got a handicap tag hanging from its rearview mirror and plates in front, which proves the jeep really was out of town and perhaps out of state because Oregon requires plates in front as well as in back. I just want to get out of here before she has tons of kids over again shaking the place apart!

Bev was out a total of 4 times yesterday. Tom thinks she’s been picking up Romeo because his truck broke down. Well, we haven’t seen the truck for a while now. I just hope he and his dog don’t spend the weekend over there!

I moved the big palm into the bathroom as a last-ditch effort to try and save it.

He thinks the pain I’ve been feeling in my ear is from my teeth. He reminded me that the facial nerve runs along that whole area. Well, there’s no apparent infection and we’ve got the canal cleaned out, so perhaps he’s right.

We decided that the best bet is to get bikes in a week or two, but keep the truck and see how things go. Then, if we need to, we’ll sell it. We want to sell it anyway at some point and get a van or SUV with better mileage. Old Datsun pickups are shit.

As he was making us pancakes this morning, I was bitching about the transmission guy playing with his head. At least Walmart didn’t tease him and lead him on by telling him to call back, and things like, “Oh, you did follow up.” Then he said I should be happy about it because since it’s close to this place, he’d be more reluctant to move if they did hire him. Meanwhile, after deciding not to call yesterday to let the guy think he’s given up on him, he’s going to call one last time today.

He spotted a single-wide for sale by where he’s destined to work for probably what’ll be the rest of our time here. He said the reason it caught his eye is that although it’s on a lot with others, it’s on the end and there are no yards. Just gravel driveways. But that makes me think they may be closer than a house that sat by itself on a lot. Also, single-wides are havens for welfare moms and drunk rowdy cocks. Especially the welfare moms. If there are no yards for kids to play in, they’ll play in the driveway, and if that’d be as close to us as next door is, I don’t know if it’ll be such a good idea to move there. It depends on the layout and cost of the place. We’re cursed with noise no matter where we go, but if it’s not attached to anyone, it may be worth it. We’re going to drive by it this Saturday when we go out to eat and get a few books at the thrift store. I’ve got so many books now that I’m also going to donate some to them. Anyway, I think the houses on bigger lots should be cheaper. Especially if the responsibility is on the renter to do the mowing and things like that.

Tom also agreed that it’s time to really jump on the book and get it submitted. I still don’t think there’s much money involved or that I’ll necessarily even get accepted, but I’d like to submit it and at least see what Barb’s got to say about this one. Tom said he’s pretty sure we’ve got the right formula down now where I write the story and he does the editing. He can have that job! I mean, I have to do some editing, of course, but I’d rather do most of the skeleton of the story. And as he says, it saves him a lot of time that way anyway. I was glad to hear he’s eager to do this and I hope he really does put his actions where his mouth is because I was getting worried there that he didn’t want to submit anything for some reason.

Here’s a case that’ll show you just how different Massachusetts and Arizona are. This chick tried to sue Harvard saying that she never got a promotion as a library assistant because she was considered “a pretty girl who dressed sexy.” Also, being black, she had to throw race in as a crutch, but she lost the case. Now you know she’d have won big time if it were in Arizona!

True to vibed, they’re continuing to play with Tom’s head by dodging his phone calls. The guy’s said to be either “away” or “tied up.” He’s going to make one more attempt to try to call there today to at least find out why they won’t hire him, but I don’t think he’ll get an answer. Especially if the answer could get them sued! I’m surer and surer that he’s going to be stuck at MCX indefinitely. Meanwhile, we may have to fight whatever wants us here and move closer so he has a shorter drive to work. We may intend to get a minivan or SUV that has better gas mileage, but gas prices are still going to be insane.

It hit me that for the same cost as a new house, which we could probably only afford to put 20 grand on up front, we could buy/own an old piece of shit outright and fix it up little by little ourselves. A little old single-wide like Dan had. As long as it’s structurally sound, who says an old place can’t get new carpet, new cabinets, new faucets, and totally remodeled? We were going to eventually buy all these things for the dome anyway. Tom said he’s always wanted to do this, but I was so hung up on a new place being the modern freak I am. What’s happened to us really has a way of changing your outlook on things, alright. Having 450’ between you and the neighbors tends to spoil you, even if it was too open with little vegetation in between. However, after living attached to someone, the thought of us having just 50’ of breathing space is heaven. If someone had told me back when I was in our big beautiful, brand-new doublewide, that we’d one day agree to strive for an old shit single-wide, I’d never have believed it. But big and fancy just isn’t a priority after hitting rock bottom the way we have. If you’ve got money and you like big, new, fancy places, then fine. Meanwhile, if I see any light at the end of the tunnel, it’s in having a paid-for house. Who knows, maybe our mortgage-free house dream is possible after all, though we’d still have all the other bills. The only thing I wonder is just how much equity we could build up on an old piece of shit. If the queen stiffs us, it’ll take us forever to save up 10 grand on minimum wage. Still, to one day have a place no one can take away from us and no mortgage payment is so worth striving for. I only hope God will let us! And we must do more research when choosing a particular town. We should’ve done our homework in advance of moving here and researched things like the unemployment rate, etc.

A part of me is also glad our plans got shot to hell because like I said, I don’t want to stay in such a cold, snowy climate. I thought I’d be ok with it after 12 years, but I thought wrong. Winters are as long here as summers are long in Arizona.

I gave Blondie a quick bath. He fought it all the way, but he survived. He’s all excited now cuz he knows his mommy is making chicken.

I’ve been dizzy on and off, but that’s mostly from sleeping just 5 hours last night. I hate to say it, but as much as I’d like to work only to double our income, I’m also so, so glad I don’t have to and that I can just relax when I’m tired like I am right now!

Some older guy was trimming trees in back, but he left not long after I spotted him. I guess the trees on this lot didn’t need much trimming.

Nothing but a few mild bumps from next door so far today. She was out yesterday for several hours. I don’t know if she’s over there by herself or what. Just as long as she doesn’t drive us crazy again before we get out of here! Like I said, I know we’re doomed for noise no matter where we go or what we live in, but I’ll be so glad when we’re not attached to anyone anymore and their animalistic company! We’re hopeful that due to the fact that the office hasn’t called or mailed us anything to tell us to renew our lease, it’s a good sign. One saying they really will let us go month to month. I’d so, so hate to get trapped in another lease here. This woman simply has way too much company for me!

I’m a little concerned with the way she’s been backing in a lot lately as if to suggest she’s helping someone move in little by little. No one grocery shops that much. And the way I think things are coming in versus going out is because once she gets in, I hear cabinets that suggest she’s loading them up with whatever shit she’s bringing in.

No longer would I assume any chatter was self-chatter, though I haven’t heard any. The nature of her chatter, while the vacuum was running, was certainly self-chatter, but I think someone’s moved in with her or is staying with her at least on weekends. I just hope that damn dog stays out of the picture! Barking this close would be unbearably loud even over the fan.

I also wish I could know for sure when we’ll move. That’d take a lot of stress off me. Then again, it could put more stress on me if the answer wasn’t until the end of the year.

She’s gone again. I’m going to really be worried if she comes back backed in. That’ll make me think that if she’s not helping someone move in, she’s stocking up groceries for a large group of people. As in more overnight company filled with all kinds of trouble and banging.

I just looked back in this journal and found that in early February she took off, backed in, took off again, backed in again, yet there was no company, so maybe we’ll be ok. I hate this shit with having to dread weekends all over again! I’m almost scared to ask just how many more years of listening to other people’s shit I’m going to have to deal with!

I got letters from Mary yesterday, who said she didn’t think Oregon was a mistake because we went through hell down in Arizona, but as I told her, yes, Oregon was a mistake. First of all, finding a job here is hell, I told her, and then there are the forced benefits that cost an astronomical amount. So much so that we can’t afford to insure me. I explained that he makes $7.60 an hour. Then they take a buck an hour to insure him, which is mandatory, but they’d want $5 to insure me. So he’d be working for insurance, not a living! And yes we went through hell in Arizona, but we’ve gone through hell here, too. It’s just a different kind of hell. What it all comes down to, however, is that I miss warmer climates. Since I know we’re going to be poor and going through various kinds of hell all our lives, we may as well do it in a warmer climate since Tom really doesn’t care all that much about climate. And if I’m going to be sentenced to life in the city, we may as well do it in one that’s big enough to hold more job opportunities for Tom.

She asked me to send her back her letters to José, but since I didn’t have them, of course, my story was that I dumped them, figuring she wouldn’t want them, and that if I couldn’t get them to go through, how could she?

Unfortunately, she had me send the envelopes and stamps (I kept some) to her friend Martha in Naples. It’s too bad she didn’t tell me to keep them after all I’ve done for her, but like I said, I kept some. Some were supposed to have gone to him anyway, with envelopes enclosed. She probably had me send them to this Martha character out of spite, though she may not realize it.

It’s sad to see someone so smart be so naïve at the same time. She’s got her life all planned, figuring that she’s going to make tons of money waitressing while José miraculously gets out and makes a fortune landscaping. Oh, and of course they’re going to live happily ever after with two kids in their nice new home. This is coming from someone who’s apparently been abandoned by both José and Maria. Maria, who was supposed to let Mary live with her, sold her house, moved to Puerto Rico and forgot all about her. Jose, on the other hand, doesn’t even have the decency to write to her aunt to have her let Mary know how he is. So, unless he’s dead or incapacitated, he’s obviously used the move as an excuse to dump her. But Mary’s too naïvely optimistic to see this, so I won’t even bother pointing out these possibilities to her other than in a quick and vague reference.

I wonder how easy it’ll be for her to get work when she’s released, after being in jail and involved in such a high-profile case. You would think that the jail would be affiliated with employers just for released inmates. They should have some sort of program.

She said she’d gladly give us money to help us if she were free and making a lot of money. I appreciate her generosity, but I wouldn’t ask for money unless it came down to a matter of life or death because I’d hate to take advantage of her that way.

It’s Tom’s mother I’d gladly take from if she cared enough to be Tom’s mother and my mother-in-law. It’s been what? 4 months now since she cared enough to write? And of course she never calls. It’s ok, though, because neither of us has any desire to speak with the selfish bitch, and we don’t need any letters all about her wonderful achievements at daycare, their new animals, new flowers, bad allergies and whatever else they can complain about that’s absolutely nothing compared to the shit we’re going through.

Back to Mary. I was surprised to hear her say she’d never talk to Jackie again, a fellow inmate she was friendly with, for disagreeing with her on the abortion issue. She feels those who foolishly play around without protection should have their babies and give them to those who can’t have their own. I thought she was more open to other people’s beliefs that may differ from hers. What about me? I’m pro-choice too, so why is she talking to me? Maybe there was something else going on between them other than a simple difference in opinions/beliefs. I gotta agree with her on the part about people taking responsibility and using birth control. There really is no need for abortions in which the pregnancies could’ve been avoided in the first place. However, rape and incest victims should not be forced to have children. I don’t think it should be their responsibility to supply the infertile either, but you see, I’ve always been a freedom freak. Especially after all I’ve been through. It doesn’t mean I think we should have the freedom to kill outside of self-defense or freedom to rule the world and other people’s lives, but I think we should have freedom with our bodies, our own lives, etc. I believe in things like freedom of speech and individuality. I don’t agree with 95% of what my “fellow” humans do, say, think, feel, believe, etc., but I know I have to accept that we can’t all see eye to eye on everything. No one agrees on every issue there is. If we let other people’s different ways bother us, it only drives us crazier, though I know and understand that it can get awfully old to constantly hear so much shit against gays and praise for non-whites. Still, I learned a long time ago that it’s best not to worry so much about what others think and believe. The queen and Miss Perfect probably believe without a doubt that I picked on the neighbors for no reason at all and that I simply had nothing better to do with myself. But so what? I know the truth and so does Tom and that’s all that matters. I told her this too, and reminded her that not everyone’s going to think abortion is wrong, that gays should/shouldn’t marry, or that we should provide welfare to the lazy. That’s just the way the world is – very diverse. Sometimes I wish we could all look the same and think the same. A universal appearance and way of thinking sure would make the world a much easier place to live in, wouldn’t it?!

I also heard from Paula in one of my envelopes. Finally. She said she has a bunion on her foot that I guess they may operate on, needs more incense (that’s probably why she finally decided to write), and “locked eyes” with yet another Puerto Rican at the bus terminal. And his name’s Miguel, too. When oh when is she ever going to learn? Some people never do! She enclosed her new number, but as I told her, I can’t call for a while. I told her we’re too broke to put more minutes on my phone and that I use an online text message service if I need to leave a message on his phone. I copied the number in my address file, though, for when I can make calls. I love the convenience of cell phones but I hate the minutes thing!

Although he tried and tried, he couldn’t get my sound working, so we not only reinstalled Windows but the latest version which is XP. It’s pretty cool, but it has a few things I don’t like about it. I can’t change the colors on all the settings, so I’m stuck with blue and green title bars and toolbars. I guess it’s better than gray or olive.

Bev may have people living with her more often than we think. Yesterday morning at 8:30, we heard a series of bumps and bangs, and I was like, shit! She’s got the animals over there this early? But the bangs weren’t right for them and they weren’t enough. I thought she was perhaps in a bad mood and stomping around over there, or that perhaps it was Romeo because Tom saw him take out trash as he got in from running errands on Saturday, yet her car was gone.

Then, at around noon, I heard the back door open when I was in the kitchen, and out came this huge black lab. It never barked; just went to the fence dividing the two yards and pissed on it. A guy came out and called to it to get back inside, but I couldn’t see who the guy was. I’ve never known Romeo to bring dogs with him, so it could be someone else. Her car was gone a few hours later, but I don’t know if it was to bring this guy and his dog home or not. For all I know, they could all be over there right now. I only know she was quite a liar in saying she rarely has company. She has tons of company. No more than a few days pass without someone, usually Romeo, coming over. And I do not like the idea of living this close to a dog. This is closer than Phoenix!

So the pope is dead and I wonder how many more days the headlines are going to have his name in them. So the bigot’s dead. Move on!

Well, the guy at the La Vista who said it wouldn’t warm up till March was wrong after all. It’s April and there’s snow on the ground. Not much, and it’ll probably be gone in a few hours, but it’s there, and it’s not warm. At least it should keep the risk of activity down.

What is it with my ear and teeth acting up? Why am I having these problems all of a sudden? Because I’m not insured?

Tom’s going to call the transmission guy tomorrow, but I’m sure he’ll just get the runaround. We’re nowhere near any positive changes or turnarounds of any kind. His being stuck at MCX and us being stuck here and us being poor may not be the end of the world, but I don’t like it. The bright side of being held down, however, is that you don’t have nearly as much to lose.

Not surprisingly, when he went to call the transmission guy, some lady answered and said, “Oh, you did follow up,” after Tom explained who he was and why he was calling, then said she’d tell the guy he called and to call back next week. As a long shot, I had suggested that perhaps they were testing him to see how much he wanted the job. Well, if this isn’t a test, then they’re certainly doing a good job of leading him on.

Because so many businesses are losing employees to the new Walmart that only Tom, or so it seems, can’t work at, he’s hoping this will help him to either get a raise where he’s at or get a better-paying job. Not if we’re cursed, though. If we’re as cursed as I think we are right now, then our struggles aren’t even close to ending. Whatever wants us broke isn’t going to let us have money anytime soon. Allowing him more money would be defeating its purpose. Either way, this town is a horrible place to try to find a job, and the lack of insurance really sucks, too!

Last night I had a bit of a panic attack. My worst cavity was acting up like crazy and I was so overwhelmed with feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. I just feel so damn trapped! I’m so afraid that he’s going to be stuck at MCX for God knows how many months and that we’ll be stuck in this duplex indefinitely as well. And if God had to put it in our cards to be poor so much of the time, couldn’t he have least left my damn teeth alone? Tom found a dental plan for $23 a month. I don’t like the $23 a month, but I like how they only charge $30 for fillings, rather than $60 or more. Since it may take a couple of months to get started, we’re going to sell the truck and use the money from that to at least get the worst one filled while his shit of a mother continues to sit on her pampered ass. At least we want to sell this piece of shit of a truck anyway and avoid driving as much as possible since gas prices are so high, but the thought of him walking 5-6 miles to and from work saddens me. It also pisses me the fuck off! Words cannot express my hatred towards God for seeing us kicked down and held there like this. I hate Him with a mad passion!

Our lovely God is also seeing to it that we have more computer problems because there’s not much else to break around here that’s ours. Again my computer wouldn’t boot. Tom had to spend 4 hours working on it all the while next door went back and forth and back and forth. The good news is that he found the problem. It had to do with a bad slot on the motherboard. The bad news is that he can’t get my sound working. Not yet anyway.

I saw the happy hypo this morning. We both went out at the same time to pull in the trash cans after they were dumped. She smiled and called out a cheery “Good morning.” I simply waved back. I wasn’t in the mood to talk anyway. That damn hypo better not drive me as crazy as she did last week ever again while we’re still stuck here! Doesn’t she know how maddening that was to us? She’s got to. She had the same shit in here before us.

I doubt I’ll ever do this, but maybe I’ll at least consider reuniting with Tammy one day in order to slowly get back into the will. She may not have beaten me or sent me to Valleyhead and Brattleboro, but she did lead the sickos to our door, so I don’t know. I doubt she ever intended for me to go to jail, but anyway, to avoid Doe and Art, who are much worse to deal with than Tammy would be, though she’d be bad enough, she could keep me informed as to when the last one was close to death (I’m afraid I can bet just which one that will be!) and then maybe I can play kiss and make up and weasel my way into the will. It’s just a loose idea I’m tossing about, but like I said, I don’t know if it’s worth it. Tammy’s such an asshole and so are the folks. They all have the same negative and infuriating traits I could do without, so if I do this it won’t be anytime too soon. They’re too young yet. I also won’t go back as a “failure.” Meaning, you can bet your ass I’m gonna spin off a few mild tales so I don’t have to listen to shit along the way to the will about my not working and shit like that. I don’t need the ridicule, the cut-downs, etc. I’m not working because I can’t work. I can’t prove that I can’t work, but if I ever can, I will, and I’ll get back on my benefits, too. I wouldn’t fabricate anything overly intricate. Since they know about jail, but not about him getting fired unless the queen opened her big mouth, I’m not about to say that he got fired and that we came up here just to be poorer than ever with all our plans shot to hell (that’s still not entirely a bad thing with how cold/snowy that mountain gets. What was I thinking when I said we should go to Oregon? Stupid fool!). I would say I was set up by old neighbors with bad connections (which is true) and that they threatened us, so the witness protection program moved us! It’d be just like the games he and I play of being on the run whenever we move. I’ll say I sell dolls and incense on and off and write gay books (that’s true, too). So it wouldn’t be anything too off the wall like alien abductions or anything like that, though I still don’t know if contact at any point is a good idea. It will depend on what kind of a toll the years of struggling takes on us, though there still wouldn’t be any guarantees that I could jump back in the will. I’d have to use good timing. If I returned just as the last one to go got comfy on their deathbed, then my true motives would appear too obvious. I doubt I’ll bother, but we’ll see. Just like I wish he was an only child, so do I! Life would’ve been and could be so much easier for both of us if that were the case!