No wonder the troll hasn’t made any updates on her blog lately. She created a new account on Thoughts, claiming she forgot her old PW. Yeah, right. Like she doesn’t know to have it reset or sent to her or something? Regardless, I should’ve figured as much, but a week ago “Girl Power” (what a lame name) created yet another account which Alison alerted me to and I also blocked. She’s only got a couple of posts, one saying how much better off she is without certain people, the other with a “letter” to Alison. Same old shit. She’s probably deleted several other rants in the last week.

Andy drives me crazy at times, almost making me feel pressured to do Formspring and email with him when I’m not only not as into that sort of thing as he is (especially on a daily basis) but I have other things to do. The guy rarely sleeps and works, LOL! He only sleeps for 4 hours at a time on most nights, then he only works for a few hours at a time. Unless he’s hanging out with family he seems to spend almost all his free time online. If he could, he would do Formspring from the minute he woke up to the minute he went to sleep.

Woke up to a huge clap of thunder. The kind you don’t usually get here but that we would get plenty of down in Arizona during monsoon seasons. It poured like crazy yesterday. We even got some hail. Found a worm in the bathroom. It’s not uncommon to find them in here after getting a lot of rain. I’m surprised the frogs aren’t going crazy now.

It has been so, so peaceful as far as Jesse and the dogs go, but sadly that’s only due to a combination of the rain and my schedule. If it weren’t for propane costs I’d wish it would rain every day that we’re still here. When it rains when I sleep during the day I don’t have to worry about him waking me up. When it rains when I’m up during the day I don’t have to worry about him disturbing my peace. But in a few days, it’s back to sunny and 70s which means it’s back to vroom, vroom, vroom and arf, arf, arf. :(

The bleeding finally stopped at the end of my day yesterday and I dropped 4 pounds in just water alone. I’ve stopped the fish oil supplements as well. I hate to go back to having sore joints, especially the hips, but I don’t want killer periods that last forever either.

Andy said his family “still expects him to look as he did 35 years ago.” Geez, that’s not only as bad as having friends and family not take you for face value, take cheap shots at your medical conditions and defend your perps, but totally ridiculous, not to mention physically impossible! I’m not saying they’re bad people or anything like that, but no one stays the same forever and that’s kind of hypocritical of them anyway since they’re not exactly centerfolds themselves or the epitome of true fitness. Shame on those who pay more attention to one’s looks than the people they are! We’ve conquered most of the racism in this world. We’ve conquered a lot of sexism. We’ve conquered piss-poor attitudes about a lot of things. So then why are we still an appearance-obsessed society???

We all want to look our best and there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all. Hell, I work out and diet most of the time myself, but it’s because I want to. But when people focus on us for our looks and not the people we are, that’s really sad. People’s priorities really worry me at times. One’s appearance should be that individual’s concern only. If they’re overweight, well, it’s not your problem, is it? If it’s their life and their body, why do you care? So you can have a prettier being to look at? Geez, go look at a pretty picture online if beauty is that important to you! The only ones who should be making cracks about one’s appearance or medical problems are the individuals themselves. Same goes for various lifestyles, beliefs and things like that. As most people would agree, though, those who do these things are only unhappy with their own looks, lives and whatever.

If racism can become favoritism as it has in most cases, and if women can hold so many powerful positions in society these days (though I’m still waiting for the first female president), we should be able to stop having expectations of others that aren’t just unreasonable but downright insane!

Off to run a mile or two, shower, then get working on some things around here.

The closer we get to May, the easier I breathe. But I’m still keeping a low profile and wonder if there’s a warrant out on me. Sometimes I think I’ll check and see, then I stop myself and say, “No, don’t give in to their games in any way! Surround yourself with positive things and people, not those who only want to bring you down with their crazy laws.”

Later…

Poor Andy. He’s been puking and having the runs. I thought something was up since the Formspring addict couldn’t go over 12 hours away from that site if his life depended on it. I just thought he was either catching up on sleep or had more clients to tend to than usual.

I called Mom earlier to see how she was doing and to pass along the info I dug up on her family, but she had to let me go because the nurse that’s looking out for her was just arriving.

Speaking of health-related things, Tom doesn’t know yet how much they’ll charge every week for it, but he gave me an overview of the health, vision and dental insurance they offer. Copays are $25 in some cases and there’s a 1000-dollar deductible.

They had a health fair at work yesterday, which included some giveaways. It would’ve been neat to win the water pillow, which I would think would be heavy as hell but comfortable, though he did get a bagful of samples and other things. Eyeglass lens cleaner, sore muscle cream, yogurt bars, energy drinks and more. He said not to take anything till he researched it. Are you kidding? I wouldn’t take shit after bleeding like a faucet from those fish oil supplements!

I was talking with Nane about the strange spotting and bleeding I had and she wonders why she gets periods at 51. I wondered this myself once I went from 99% sure to 100% sure I wasn’t having kids. But unfortunately, a woman can’t just make an appointment and order up a hysterectomy like she can breast enhancements.

Not much else going on other than that Tom has to work tomorrow. His take-home pay for this week is going to be a little over $700. Sure beats $600 every other week from unemployment! It’s going to be close to a 4K month, though he doesn’t expect the OT to continue on much longer.

Maliheh visited my blog again, but just like last time, there’s no navigation info on her. Not even the landing page. Also like last time, TIP didn’t land on her rooftop but somewhere else in her town.

The troll’s visits are picking up in regularity, but they’re still very short and sweet and she’s still not doing her own blogging. Today’s visit was something like 36 seconds.

When Tom was picking me up extra pads, he also swiped a thin foam mattress pad. Its size is full and just plain foam. None of that memory crap. It’s the ideal topper for air, water or coil mattresses.

Today’s the day we moved into this little trailer exactly 4 years ago. After an 8-month hotel stay it was great. We no longer had to deal with door slamming, TVs and music blaring, cars honking, and pleasant but annoying hotel staff. But I have since grown beyond sick of this place. I’ve had my fill of the lack of space, and the intermittent racket from my landlord’s many loud vehicles and dogs, and now it’s time to move on.

Saw a movie last night about the relationship between these two lesbians. It was a good movie but the lesbians themselves were so unrealistic. This is because they were both so damn feminine. They were actually bisexual, but still, most bisexuals and lesbians find fems as unattractive as most men find 250-pound women unattractive. I have about half a dozen or so friends, both cyber and not, that are either bi or lesbian. Only Marie and Nane find me physically attractive and I honestly don’t know that Nane considers me that attractive. Marie’s no real surprise, though, because she herself looks very lesbian and pretty much considers anything without a stick shift between the legs attractive, LOL. Besides, we don’t keep in touch. So out of the 5 or 6 bis/les ladies that I do keep in touch with and consider close friends, I’ve got one “half-assed” attraction. Like I said, fems just don’t fit into that world very well but the guys sure do love them. Put me in a room with one straight guy and a dozen lesbians and I’m sure the guy will be the only one to notice me unless any of the lesbians are so butchy that they too, look like guys.

Did some other research after remembering that my mom’s mom once said what her maiden name was. Both my grandmothers were born in the US, but I still have no clue as to what my dad’s grandparents’ first names are or what my mom’s dad’s parents’ names could’ve been. Especially if they were Austrian and Russian. But mom’s mom was definitely from MA and I did find a Sadie C born in 1880 who was married to William, and they seem the most likely. Wonder which one was the bitch that made my grandmother one as well. Either way, William was born in Russia, too. Since Tom’s obsessed with censuses and digging up other old info we’ll see if he can connect those names to Shirley G.

I just hope this heavy bleeding that’s beginning to concern me a bit isn’t a sign of anything serious. It could cause a significant delay in the move if anything serious is going on, not to mention the fact that I probably won’t be insured till close to the end of the year.

If any older women (older than 46) have any insight for me, do let me know. For years my periods were punctual and short-lived where I’d only bleed heavy (though not as heavy as in my teens and 20s) for a few hours. By day 3 it’d be gone. But this time around I started spotting at mid-cycle. It went on for a week before becoming a regular and heavy period. This was two days ago and I’m still bleeding heavily. Not hemorrhaging or anything like that, but it’s consistent enough. I have no other symptoms. No pain or anything like that. Hopefully, it’s just either part of menopause or whacky hormone fluctuations due to age. I’d LOVE to have a hysterectomy and be forever done with periods, but not while I’m uninsured!

Anyway, I’ve been writing an awful lot lately – maybe too much by some people’s standards, though I’m actually doing shorter posts more often instead of longer posts less often – but if writing is supposed to burn calories as I’ve heard, it’s forgotten mine. But one look at me and you can see I’m seriously fit despite how heavy I am. I’m small but heavy. Petite in height and inches but still have some fat and tons of muscle from the running and lifting. I’m about 140 pounds. I read that if you’re fat but fit you’ll live longer than if you were thin and out of shape. Well, I’m definitely a fit fatty! You can see most of the muscle mass in my shoulders, biceps, abs and calves. I have a HUGE muscle that slashes straight down the quads, but that one’s harder to see cuz I still have too much fatty tissue overlaying that area.

The propane guy noticed how I’ve been looking, LOL, saying he thought I was 40. And this is after I stopped dying my hair so I’d look older trying to get into a retirement community this summer. Tom looks his age, but I don’t quite look mine. I’m close in the face but have a very youthful-looking body. A shitty one compared to 20 years ago, but still quite youthful. Assault it enough with weights, running sprees and hunger and it tends to end up that way later on in life.

I do a good job of staying away from sugar, pasta and other starchy foods during the week and sticking to a high-protein diet which mostly consists of meat, fruits, veggies and a little dairy, but I need to do better on weekends. I also need to build more stamina. I know that may sound funny since most people in their 20s would probably struggle to keep up with me, but my goal is to sustain a 20-30 minute run between 4-5 MPH without having to break it up into sessions of twos or threes. I’m really close now, though! The fish oil has really helped my joints tremendously so that’s helped me not have to break things up as much. But if this damn bleeding keeps up I’ll have to stop the fish oil and see if the bleeding backs off. That’s the only change I’ve made recently.

Just did some research. Hmm… maybe it’s time to back off the fishies for sure. Bummer! I really liked having less joint pain. Better this, though, than anything serious when you’re uninsured. Yet the reading I did does suggest it could be the fish oil and I did start it right before the spotting began.

It kind of sucks to know that not only will the drama queen probably get most of whatever my folks leave behind, but because I won’t be the one going through their things, in the end, I’ll never get to see what interesting papers/pictures they may’ve had. As I get older, I become more fascinated with the past. I think it works that way for most of us. I mean it’s interesting but at the same time, I don’t give a shit who my great-great-great-great-grandmother was.

This period is heavier than usual. Tom said to expect my cycle to do weird things as I head toward menopause. I would’ve thought my periods would get lighter and less frequent, but he thinks it varies from person to person and that they’ll vary in consistency. Why can’t I just get insured and get a hysterectomy? That’d be so much easier!

Nane messaged me at work like I hoped she would. She’s still without Internet at home due to the renovation excursion. She’s only working half a day cuz her new bed is arriving today. It still amazes me how much time off they get from work in Europe! How do they live? She said to check out a picture on her wall and I did. It was the back of a guy (Askim?) painting her bedroom walls red, but I thought she said she wanted them cream-colored.

sighs Oh, to be able to run over for a visit! She’d be all for it too, though I know we’d end up fucking like rabbits no matter how much she may be devoted to Askim. Hey, I love the hell out of Tom, but I’m also only human and I have no qualms about admitting it. When two people who are attracted to each other are left alone in the same room…things happen.

I forgot to mention in one of my last posts that while I always figured my grandparents went through high school, both my mom’s parents were actually listed as completing just one year of high school. I guess it was common back then that as soon as you were old enough to work, you quit school and went to work.

Tom said there have been a couple of cats hanging around here lately, so no, I’m not imagining the meows I sometimes hear.

I ended up reading some fascinating material on the various theories out there on the afterlife and those who have had near-death experiences. Most of what I read made sense but didn’t, and what didn’t make sense also did make sense, if that – well - makes any sense. It was still a very interesting read.

Some say near-death experiences may just be the brain’s reaction to dying. It makes sense that it could cause such hallucinations like going through a tunnel with a bright light at the end of it and meeting friends and family. But it doesn’t explain how some people are able to recount exactly what happened to them during surgery.

It makes sense that people would come up with the same stories based on pure wishful thinking. Hey, everyone wants to think that their life goes on somehow after death and that they get to be reunited with loved ones. But if they’re just stories how come there are so many of them and the people telling them come from all different walks of life?

I still don’t know what to believe, but I realize that if psychic phenomena can exist that can’t really be explained by science (though they think they’ve located the region of the brain responsible for the 6th sense and psychic phenomena), I guess that means an afterlife is possible. Tom believes there’s one; he just doesn’t know what it is.

Having had surgery myself, though, and rendered completely unconscious with zero sense of awareness, it’s also safe to assume that there is a state of complete and total unawareness that also exists on some plane, somewhere, which could signify that without a sense of awareness, there is absolutely nothing and therefore no afterlife.

Those who disagree say that when the body dies it’s a lot like turning off a television. Like a brain shutting down, you can also shut down a television, but that doesn’t mean that the airwaves still don’t exist. Instead, they continue to live on even after the TV is turned off.

I also read up on theories of other dimensions. In many of my dreams, I have often felt like I actually visited some of the places I saw in the dreams. It was like I was there and not just dreaming of being there. Like I left my body and entered this other plane of existence. Are they really astral projections? I wonder about this at times and how I “find” my way back to my body in the end. What if one day I can’t find the way back? Better yet, why’d I ever have to be psychic in the first place??? I mean one who’s actually developed and kind of good at it. However, I doubt I could contact the dead if there really is an afterlife, though I’m not sure I’d want to. And ask them what, if they have free lobster there?

I somehow managed to finish chapter 10 of my book and am the crampiest I’ve been since I started spotting a week ago, two weeks before I should. It’s almost up to a light flow and I wonder if I’m going to have a full-blown period soon. Tom thinks I might just end up having my period a week earlier, which he says goes with the spotting time. Yes, I do usually spot a bit before periods, but not a whole week!

I think that as good as the Mylar does at keeping body heat in this bed, I’m going to get the thinnest foam topper I can find at Walmart this weekend that’s made of just plain foam. It will not only work just as well but foam holds the sheets in place much better. Right now the sheets are slipping and bunching like crazy on the Mylar and it’s so “noisy” with the way it crinkles. Sort of like the wax paper we sit on when we go to take a seat on a doctor’s examination table.

Later…

The spotting turned into a full-fledged period and if this keeps happening every other week I’ll scream. I don’t see why it would, though. I think I’m just having a fluky month.

Tom’s become addicted to looking up old records from 1940 and even I have to admit it’s been an interesting learning experience. It’s one of those things you usually have to get older to appreciate.

I called mom to see how she’s doing. She’s getting along but still has 5 weeks left to go in the cast. That must really suck. If an arm cast was as shitty as it was for me, I can just imagine how having one on your foot would be. Ugh! Tammy’s still there, too. For a woman who is so controlling it must be both hard and strange for her to have to rely on someone else for help. At least she’s got someone to help her. Who the hell’s gonna help us when we get old???

Mom is usually pretty tight-lipped when it comes to trying to pump any information out of her, no matter how trivial it may be. But while she couldn’t remember her grandparents’ names, she did remember the street she lived on in 1940 and that was Alderman in Springfield.

It took Tom, who said he could sit and pour through old records for hours, about 20 minutes to go through the scans and find the proper street since they’re not very orderly, but sure enough, they were on Alderman St. in 1940. It wasn’t a house, though. Instead, it appeared to be an apartment building, based on all the other names listed at the same address. It doesn’t seem to exist nowadays when I looked at the area via satellite. Now there are just a couple of two-family houses, so it was probably a very old building that has since been torn down.

I don’t think my parents owned a place till I was born. Maybe the house Nana and Pa lived in next to us at that time in Longmeadow was also their first owned home, who knows? I just know that while I’ll never have the money they did, I didn’t have to spend any of my youth in an apartment.

The tenants were all white with one possible Hispanic or Italian tenant in the building. This doesn’t surprise me as the Puerto Rican boom didn’t really get underway till the 70s and 80s.

Pa worked at the exterminating company he would eventually own, making a grand a year and paying just $20 in rent. While that was still about 20% above normal wages for that time, he didn’t really start making a lot of money till probably around the 50s or 60s. Nana wasn’t working at the time which surprised me since they had a kid to care for and another one just a year or two away, but with that income and that rent, one could work for 3 easily enough. Pa worked full-time. Nana (I keep starting to call her Nane) had been a dance instructor and I guess like most women after they’ve had kids, her body went to hell and that was no longer an option for her.

Mom, whose name they spelled wrong, was 7 at the time the census interviewer interviewed Nana, but her bastard brother was yet to be born. Nana and Pa were both 30 and Pa was listed as an alien, LOL. Apparently, you didn’t have to apply for citizenship right away like you do now. It’s still both strange and fascinating to know my grandparents spoke German and Russian and I didn’t even know it, though Russian’s never been a language I’ve had any interest in learning. Then again, neither was German till Tom read that article and then I met Nane online (that time I meant to say Nane with an e at the end). I wonder what Nana would think if she knew one of her 5 grandkids would learn Spanish and other languages that did not include Hebrew or Yiddish? I suppose that’d be nothing as opposed to learning that one of them would be predominantly lesbian.;) looks towards the heavens Yes, Nana, that woman who helped inspire me to learn German is hot as hell!

Also, I was damn proud of myself for being able to understand most of the German lines in the movie I watched last night! Yeah, I’m such an “accomplished loser.” Can’t drive, can’t keep a schedule, but I can learn lots of languages and write lots of books, LOL.

I think Pa might’ve changed his last name upon entering the US to the very common and generic last name he had to escape the shit that went with having a Jewish last name like my very German/Hebrew maiden name. Hell, it’s amazing what I’ve learned since I apparently didn’t even know the guy’s first name. I’ve always known him as Jack, but he was listed as John. Tom said Jack was usually a nickname for John, but I’ve never heard that before. How do you get Jack from John???

Papa was like my dad, mellow and likable. Nana, on the other hand, was much like my mom. In other words, she was a domineering bitch. I had a few chubby spells as a kid and I remember her taunting me about it, saying that one day I wouldn’t be able to fit through the doorway. Funny thing too, since she was so big herself. I’ll never be a fraction of the size she was. I sure hope not anyway! Well, I certainly can never be tall, but she was kind of tallish like maybe my sister’s height at 5’ 7”, a few inches taller than my mom. She had to be at least 200 pounds. Unlike Pa, who had blue-gray eyes, she had brown eyes. I only knew her as a blond, though she was a natural brunette.

I wonder why they never retired to someplace like Florida like so many older folks seem to do. They certainly could’ve afforded it. Maybe they just didn’t want to leave the business (now in their son’s hands) and their friends and family. Despite how negative and mean Nana could be, I do sometimes miss her and my jovial grandfather. A part of me hopes there is such a thing as reuniting with loved ones in the afterlife, but I won’t count on it. I guess we won’t know for sure what happens until we die. Anyway, they both died in 1985 just 6 months apart at age 75.

How did they manage to have kids 8-9 years apart in a time when BC didn’t exist? Pa must’ve either refrained from letting the damn burst or pulled the plug just in time for the eruption if he didn’t. Probably did a little cycle counting too, as I’m pretty sure they at least knew back then which days were most dangerous to play around on.

I didn’t know my other grandmother as well, but I do know she quit narking on me real fast about smoking and things like that when she came to live with us after her second husband died in California and she got to learn what life with Dureen was all about.

Another peek from the troll today, but this time she wasn’t even in my blog for a minute. Still no posts from her and I still don’t get it. How can she suddenly have this amazing self-control? Some new medication for crazy people? Is her mother sitting there physically controlling her online actions? Something else?

Tried to block the troll, who spent over an hour on my blog today but has yet to start blogging again herself, but it wouldn’t work. Maybe that’s a good thing, though, for to block her is to acknowledge her existence, and she’d only get a friend to help her override the block anyway.

Still, her views are picking up in frequency and I worry she’ll go from merely being a peeping Tom to a genuine nuisance again. If there is any good in my tracking subscription expiring in June and not being worth paying to renew, it’s that old adage about ignorance being bliss. In some ways, this is very true. :)

I wish Thoughts had the “whisper” feature MO has so I could make certain sentences or paragraphs private that I’d prefer to keep private so I didn’t have to make the entire entry private. I guess in this case I’ll just let it all be seen. Didn’t want her reading my thoughts on her (that’s a form of acknowledgment, isn’t it?) but I also don’t want to feel held back from speaking my mind in my own journal either. I suppose I could make this entry ‘friends only’. But yeah, Thoughts needs to come up with that, a handy archive, a working search feature, and a way to allow for anonymous comments so people who don’t want to sign up can still leave comments.

Anyway, I went ahead and blocked the troll’s accounts here, figuring it’s only a matter of time before the unwanted contact starts up again. All the sites I use that she knows about shouldn’t be Googlable with the way I have them set up, and she shouldn’t be able to contact me there either. The only place I could be contacted is on Twitter (which I’m considering deactivating since I so rarely use it) but I wouldn’t know it cuz I never remember to check for tweets from those I’m not following. You have to be a friend of a friend’s in order to message or friend me on Facebook, so that doesn’t leave much else. Hopefully, though, she has nothing to say to me anyway. And, until and if she returns to her old online behavior, kudos to her, Mrs. M, or whoever/whatever has had her so well-behaved lately. I’m impressed. Really I am. :) Let’s hope she keeps breaking records!

Later…

My friend Paul (who sometimes goes by Mitch) is so funny at times. I guess the poor guy got bit by a dog and hit his finger with a mallet all in the same day, along with other shit. He said he’d be E flat demented if he were a musical chord, LOL. Hey, I’m Z sharp-minded!

I thought that the spotting was going to stop yesterday but it’s still going on. It’s been a week now. Is it ever going to stop?

Nothing from Nane today. I guess she’s still busy with the paperwork and the bedroom renovation. I dreamt I told her of the old “No Postage Necessary” game Andy and I used to play. I told her for real in a message and ended up making it a dream premonition, LOL.

I’m getting tired of finding bees and wasps in a couple of the windows here. Tom sprayed but it didn’t seem to help. When I got up at 5pm it was to find a pile of ants on the kitchen table. Definitely going to have to get better spray, though we’re about to go from being in shorts with the fans on and the windows open, to being bundled up against the cold rain for the next few days. Therefore, the windows won’t be open.

Andy says I complain too much. Yeah, maybe so, but if it’s worth complaining about, so what if it’s a little or a lot? Like the fact that lately, I’m noticing tweets on my Twitter timeline from people I’m not even following. They’re mostly from verified accounts of some sort.

Later…

Where I should be working on stories no one seems to want to buy, reading, working out, or cleaning, it seems all I want to do is blog.

I have failed many things in life but am looking forward to what the future may hold. For what seemed like forever, there was no future that I could see. Things only seemed bleak and hopeless. I may continue to be denied many things I’d like to have in life, but I do enjoy what I am “allowed” to indulge in. Sometimes it’s those little things that matter more than the big things. Big things of a positive kind are always nice, but sometimes just knowing I have little things to look forward to makes me all the more glad we survived the storm. After the storm, you tend to appreciate the little things more and in some ways, they become big things. A kiss from my husband. The sound of the rain pitter-pattering on the roof. A message from my cyber GF. A compliment on my writing. Sunlight streaming through the window, casting intricate patterns on the carpet. A stick of bubble gum. A stick of patchouli incense. A hopeless wish that a rattlesnake would crawl up from underneath our old house in the desert and forever silence the landlord’s dogs up the hill, even if he would only go out and get two new dogs that very day.

Thought I heard a cat meowing close by when I was in the bathroom. There are cats that hang around here. We’ve seen them. I just don’t know if they’re stray cats or if they belong to someone.

I miss having a pet, though cats aren’t usually my first choice. Even if you get them declawed they still scratch you with their back claws and are even harder to keep out of things than rats. Rats can really get around, don’t get me wrong. Especially when they’re young and thin. They climb drapes and can be found everywhere and anywhere when you let them loose until you train them. But cats jump much higher than rats and are great at jumping on counters, tables and other furniture, knocking shit around and not giving a shit when you yell at them for it. But cats still aren’t all bad.

Although I hate barking, a dog still appeals to me for several reasons and I like the fact that they live a helluva lot longer than rats. I just don’t know if I’d want a small, medium or large dog. Since I would want it as a household pet, for the most part, I guess I’d go with a small one.

Many years ago back in Arizona, one of Tom’s family members got us a parakeet for Christmas. I thought it was really cool at first. The next day I stormed out of bed and told Tom that if they ever got us any such thing ever again he would learn what it was like to stand in the middle of a hailstorm of feathers. No offense to bird lovers out there! :)

I guess I’ll go try to resurrect “Bunny Nose.” I’ll have to read back on the last few chapters, though, since it’s been a while since I worked on that story.

I created my original Thoughts blog through Facebook. Then, as suggested to me by a friend, I created the hiddendimension account to try to thwart Molly. That’s how I came up with the username; I was trying to hide from this loon who has since quit pestering and slandering me and a few of my friends. I don’t know why she’s suddenly ceased this behavior. I’m only grateful for it for however long it lasts. Especially since I’m, well, not such a hidden dimension anymore, LOL. At least 3 people that I know of have found this blog on their own since, as I’ll readily admit, I’m not a very good liar. Therefore, I can’t hide very well. In order to hide, I’d have to literally change my style of writing, change names, change blog style formats, and change the topics I write about altogether. I would literally have to be a whole new person with a whole new life. I could not speak 5 languages or love rats for pets or be a married, childless, middle-aged woman in the woods who loves to build muscle and write.

Yet I am only good at being myself. So even though I did alter first names for a while, I’m a dead giveaway and a very unhidden dimension at best. Some people can do it, but I was never any good at spicing things up other than in stories any more than I was ever good at sugarcoating the bad things I feel or experience. I’m a tell-it-like-it-is kind of gal. When I was 10 years old, then I could tell you I was bionic and came from another planet with an absolutely wonderful and loving family. Hell, I could tell you about just any line of bullshit out there until I was grounded for it and maybe even slapped around a bit, too.

But I’m not 10 years old and I don’t speak just one language either. I really do have a driving phobia, but I can write stories and dress things up there really well. It’s automatic denial for most of those who don’t get something in particular, especially if it’s not very common, but I really do have a sleep disorder and I just adore rats. While I wish I could say that for me it isn’t that bad, my landlord really does get obnoxious as hell at times, and I really do love incense, perfume and anything else that smells good. I’m shitty with numbers but great with words. Really, I am.

I was surprised but pleased to see Maliheh on my tracking log today. I warned her too, that even though only I could see her, I would be able to track visitors with cookies till June 18th. So she is alive and she is getting my messages. She’s just chosen, for whatever reason, not to keep in touch very often.

“Hidden Dimension” is still appropriate for someone like me in a whole ‘nother way. Like whatever these places are that I visit in my dreams that often seem so damn real. Are my dreams just that vivid or am I really entering some other plane when I see, hear and learn things that are actually true or end up becoming a reality in the future? The prospect of sleep has become both scary and exciting. I enter this other dimension and I don’t know why or how. And where it is? Where? We’re all supposed to be able to access this dimension, this other plane of knowledge, insight and existence; I just seem to do a better job of tapping into it than most folks for some reason. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the things most people aren’t good at that I’m good at and vice versa.

As I sit here missing my daddy and my ratty, I realize my body is no longer desert-ready. 82° used to be perfect for me and was what we usually kept our houses at back down in Arizona, but now 82° is a bit warm which is what it is in this room right now. Where I’ll never like the cold, even though I grew up in a cold climate, I’m definitely now more moderate-climate ready. If I were suddenly in the desert or Florida it would take me a year or so to re-adapt to the constant heat, but since the body does have memory, that’s all it would take. The first time around, when I first moved to Arizona, it took 5-6 years to get acclimated to the intense heat. I know I’ll never live in the desert again. I won’t even visit it. But I don’t know if I’ll always live in the area I’m in now. My dreams suggest I won’t, but right now life is going too well for us to disturb or alter it in any way other than where we live.

Off to enjoy the last of the weekend before my hubby crashes, then looking forward to hearing from Nane tomorrow. :)

I guess I can start this entry in between my cheese-filled chicken rings and even though I’m tired from having my sleep split up again. How much longer is this shit going to go on?

Jesse stayed home last night and kept his mutts quiet, thus allowing me the right to enjoy a movie in peace. So I watched late into the night and then crashed between 3am - 4am. After waking up cold a few times, I finally dragged my ass out of bed at 8am and turned the heat up. Tom was at the store.

I don’t know why but these airbeds are like lying on a bed of ice, and apparently the pillow sham I had underneath the sheet wasn’t enough. It was still cold in the room, but lying back down on the bed was also still like lying on an ice rink. So I lay there pissed off and unable to go back to sleep till Tom got back an hour later. He brought in a couple of space blankets made of Mylar which is used in space to insulate spaceships and things like that. He’d gotten them up in Oregon in case he ever got stranded in the bitter cold, which is way worse than New England. The stuff looks like tin foil but feels like cellophane. It crinkles loudly when you first lay down and get settled in. But it does seem to help hold in body heat and block the coldness below. These airbeds are great for warmer climates and in June I’ll remove the space blanket.

I asked Andy if he ever noticed how cold they feel to lay on and he said no, but he was living in the desert at the time he had one. Not even an ice cube seems cold in the desert with the way it’s always so hot there! But for some reason, your body heat won’t warm the damn things and so that’s why I need something between the sheet and mattress with sufficient insulation for when it’s cooler. I do not want to go back to memory foam that messes up my back.

Around 11am, I was just drifting off again when I was aware of Jesse roaring out on the motorcycle since I didn’t have the sound machine turned up as loud as I usually do. Yes, this one person who lives close to 200’ away is that loud. He may as well be just a few yards like our Phoenix neighbors were.

Then it was on to strange dreams. I usually sleep with the stereo speakers blaring white noise created by an off-dialed radio station. In the dream, the speakers started talking. I rose from the bed, confused. Then I realized it was Andy leaving a voice message that was somehow playing through the speakers when it shouldn’t have (and never does in real life). He kept going on and on, though I don’t know what he was saying. I just wished he would shut the fuck up because I couldn’t figure out how to silence him and I wanted to get back to bed, as I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of reading, LOL.

Then my mother comes on in the worst voice I ever heard her speak in, saying to call her back cuz she didn’t feel so well. Naturally, this dream made me wonder if something new has gone wrong for her, though I doubt it since I never even had dreams warning me about Dad’s death. I would still think my mom has a few years left in her anyway because she doesn’t have the type of condition dad had that you can only do so much to control. What conditions she did have were taken care of. The cancerous lung was removed and so was the cancerous breast. But you can’t remove a bum ticker.

I’m too tired to write any more now, so I’ll call this an entry and go relax in bed now that the household cleaning is done for the day. Maybe next time around I’ll sleep straight through. Maybe.

Later…

I wonder if I will “see” the next place we’ll live at before we actually do see it. I saw bits and pieces of the last two places in dreams. I kept dreaming of the woods and saw myself looking out the window through binoculars in another dream, and then we ended up here. I saw chain-link fences and white picket fences, which ended up surrounding parts of the dump we rented in Oregon, though I misplaced the driveway. I “saw” it on the left side of the house but it was really on the right. And the house was pale yellow, not cream.

To my utter astonishment, there’s been no barking tonight or last night. Wow! Wonder what I did to deserve that much? Spot for 5 days instead of 3? I was looking up the possible causes of mid-cycle spotting and they say it usually lasts 12-72 hours. Then why am I leaning toward 120? Either way, I don’t know if Jesse stayed in all weekend or if someone else is there to keep the mutts in line, but I’m glad for the peace and quiet. It serves those of us with writer’s block quite nicely who want to waste time watching movies instead. Then again, even I deserve a good movie here and there, don’t I? Started reading another great book on my Kindle too, but it’s not very long.

Tom’s been complaining that I scream when I talk and maybe I’m losing more hearing and that’s why I’m doing that and blasting music. rolls eyes Yeah, right. That’s why I can practically hear Jesse pick his nose. God would never damage the hearing in my good ear, ever. How else could He sic one noisy neighbor after another on me if I couldn’t hear them? I’ve always blasted music. I’ve always talked kind of loud too, but I’m NOT SCREAMING! I think he just has sensitive ears. :)

Still, I don’t like the way he’s been snapping at me more lately, and well, just seemingly not happy with me anymore. I hope it’s all in my head. I know he’s got a lot going on, but that’s just life. I just feel so useless at times! If I could drive he wouldn’t have to take time out of his weekend to run errands like grocery shopping, picking up mail, bringing cans in to be recycled, etc. God, I feel so worthless, weak and abnormal at times!

I felt bad for him earlier. Not that I’m not happy for those who have good things, especially if they deserve them, but to learn we’re still “poor” even though we’re not is not only unfair and kind of sad, but it’s so us. Meaning, it’s so what God would see was the case for us. Anyway, I’ve been told either directly or through reading conversations on Facebook and other sites that some people I know or know of are making 50K and up. I feel happy for them but sad for Tom. Although it seemed kind of far out, I realized these people didn’t seem like the type to lie or exaggerate about that sort of thing and so I did a little research. For some reason, I thought the national median was 24K and I guess that was the case 20 years ago, LOL, but times have changed. Now it’s 45K - 65K. Don’t get me wrong, having the money to get by is the most important, #1 thing. But I still couldn’t help but feel bad for Tom, who’s worked longer and harder than most, and who’s smarter and more deserving than most. Yet he’ll probably never make it to 40K. Hell, the poor guy wouldn’t even hit 30K if it weren’t for OT. It’s not fair that he’s not even halfway to the national average and that we’re still the underdogs of sorts even when we’re not. I guess all I can do is just be glad for what we’ve got and that we’re not still on unemployment. Some income is better than none and none was exactly what we had for one terrifying week or so last fall.

Well, we might get shit for an inheritance and shit for pension payments that are due to kick in in a couple of months, but I sure am looking forward to returning to sweeping. But not till we move. UPS Stores don’t forward mail and I certainly don’t want anything good coming here. Just because I entered certain sweeps now doesn’t mean I’d know I was the winner or receive the prize before we got out of here. These things can take months. Nonetheless, when the time comes I look forward to at least trying to win, but times have changed there too, and I may be up against a quarter-million people just for a lousy T-shirt.

I was so glad to hear from my Ohio buddy today. :) I was getting a little curious and even concerned as to what was up with her. But when oh when will I hear from my southeastern buddy???

Anyway, I don’t know what the hell’s going on with Maliheh, but Christine has been both sad and busy. Sad over losing her cat, but busy with life and getting a promotion. She’s almost at 60K a year! Damn, I can’t imagine Tom ever making even 40K, especially if I’m right about something being determined to hold us back financially. Even when we’re doing “well” there’s still not enough money for the things we’d like to have and do. We’d like to pay the fucking IRS off. We’d like to be able to get things we need/want at the new place as soon as we get moved. But it will probably take years to do all this. Better later than never, though.

I had to laugh at how Christine said that they’re 5 people crammed into a 1-bedroom apartment like Chinese immigrants. And I feel like I’m living like an 18-year-old! Then again, even most 18-year-olds and college kids live better than we do.

The weather’s been what it usually is – warm days, cold nights. I wish it would be more stable (preferably on the warm side) because it’s better for sleeping. Depending on my schedule, I hate going to sleep bundled up against the cold only to wake up sweating my ass off later on, but I know the bulk of it is cuz we live in a trailer with shit for insulation. The place cools down and heats up very easily.

Wow! I’ve already been up 3 hours yet I only had to hear from the Jes pest twice so far today. Even in the bathroom with the door shut and the shower spray pounding on my head I could hear that damn truck of his over 100’ away. He stopped driving the damn thing for a while. What made him decide to go back to it? Did he think he was being too quiet for me? Anyway, I’m sure I’ll hear him 4-6 more times before it gets dark. Plus, tonight, tomorrow night or both, I’ll be hit with 6-8 hours of barking. At least that’s easier to drown out than his thunderous trucks and motorcycles. I could feel the vibration of it under my ass as I sat on the floor with music blaring through headphones the other day.

Anyway, life’s pretty much a waiting game for us right now – hoping things continue to go well and hoping to move soon enough. Even if things could go well forever, I still don’t think I could ever forgive God, or whatever’s up there that had a hand in the catastrophes I’ve had to go through in life with or without my husband, because they were simply too huge and too numerous. Some bad things are to be expected in life and if there’s any good in them it makes us appreciate the good times even more. But when things get so damn extreme we often have nightmares to go with that gratitude. “Aw, come on,” some people may tell me, “forgive God. It’s over.”

But it’s not over. I’m the one who has to live with the nightmares and the horrible memories for the rest of my life, and I don’t mean just any childhood hell I went through. Last fall I felt like I was literally being dangled by an ankle from a steep cliff or a tall building by some sick fuck that said, “Maybe I’ll drop you and maybe I won’t.” Then after days of terrorizing me, he may not have decided to drop me, but he sure did turn me into one scarred-for-life angry bitch. So even if I could forgive, I could never forget. There are a lot of things I could forgive and forget but my childhood trauma, being legally railroaded, then pushed to the edge like we were last fall isn’t a good example of what’s easy for me to forgive and forget. BUT… you do learn to move on and cope with time after speaking your mind about these things and getting them off your chest. I’ve said my piece. I’ve moved on. But I will never forget. The fact that something up there toyed with our lives and our very survival last fall and that in itself is pretty damn scary. You fear that if it can happen once it can happen again, and that it opens the door for an endless supply of horrifying possibilities.

It really annoys the fuck outa me when people say they’ll buy my books but never do. I’ve totally given up as far as that goes. Totally.

But even more annoying is that I had more dreams that seemed a bit too jailish and courtish. It seemed to revolve around that anyway, and even though the black bitch’s name was never mentioned or anything pertaining to “the case,” my dream self seemed to automatically know she was involved. Who else would be? Who else have I gone to court for since the early 90s? The last one was for Andrea and Stacey and they didn’t win.

Anyway, in the dream, I was leaving what I guess was the police station after being fingerprinted. I glanced back at a blow-up shot they were studying on a monitor of these strange red lines in my eyes. I started to ask what the lines were when one of the pigs asked something like why they hadn’t seen me before, and was I just new there or what?

Then I was reading what was either a discovery report or what the DA planned to say about me in court. “And then Shadow Gardens was later discovered” was one line that made me think they had been keeping an eye on me all along after all, even though I have no such journal entry or book called Shadow Gardens or Shadow of Gardens or whatever the hell it was.

I just wish I could stop having these dreams! I hope they mean nothing more than to say that sadly, the pigs are still wasting time and resources looking at what I’m up to as opposed to going after murderers, rapists and true criminals who actually do things to harm others.

Later…

I totally skipped out on both dieting and exercising today and enjoyed a burger and fries from Carl’s Jr. So about 1000 calories in just one sitting!

Wild turkeys and deer have been roaming around the land. Of course the bees are continuing to break in too, so tomorrow Tom’s going to spray. The rains have since washed away any leftover residue from the last time he sprayed.

I hope Jesse doesn’t go out tonight. There’s a new movie I’d really like to see and I would rather watch it without all the barking in the background. If not I guess I’ll have to wait till tomorrow or Sunday. sighs But someday I’ll get to live where barking isn’t an issue, right?

I tried to will myself to stay under 1200 calories yesterday but went a little over. Like most people, I have my strengths, weaknesses and limits. Well, I just don’t have the kind of will and discipline with dieting as I do with exercising, but my weight hasn’t fluctuated much.

Not sure why I still get sore muscles and joints at times, even with the fish oil supplements. Haven’t I been working out long enough for my muscles to be used to this shit? Then again they only get sore when I run at 5 MPH. I should keep it at 4 MPH, I suppose. Less impact that way. It’s just that that’s gotten a little too easy the more I’ve gotten into shape and I feel the need to challenge myself a bit. There’s no way I could sustain 5 MPH for very long, though. Not yet anyway.

It’s the afternoon so the landlord’s doing what he does best – annoying me with the loud vehicles. Thought I heard him talking when I stepped outside, though I couldn’t tell if it was to someone on the phone or in person. Probably in person since he seems to be like most people with the daily company. Again, I hope the next people are a real nightmare with company galore, late-night parties, etc. I hope they too, live outdoors so they can show him what it’s like to have to hear from others all the time. I hope they have a dog that wakes him up, and well, I could go on and on but I won’t. I’ll just say that we didn’t even hear a tiny fraction from Kim, the young lady who lived just an arm’s reach away from us up in Oregon, as opposed to this little bastard who’s over 100’ away.

For some reason, I’ve been waking up every day for a week now after just 4-5 hours of sleep. I didn’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep this morning, but I did after about an hour of just lying there. A disturbing dream woke me up this time but since no harm was done, I’d say it’s nothing to worry about.

While Tom waited in the car at an intersection, I was looking for the best spot on a nearby sidewalk of all places to place our dirty laundry till we were ready to wash it. Then I heard shouts and glanced over at Tom to find a cluster of bullies approaching the car. The leader, a tall, thin, wiry blond kid in his late teens or early 20s held a scythe in a menacing way as if he were about to smash in the driver’s window. I wanted to attack him, but didn’t think that was a good idea since he had 5 or 6 friends in tow. So, thinking quickly I called out to him pretending to be in pain. It worked, cuz they all looked my way. Clutching my stomach I moved closer to them and saw that the scythe had turned into just a regular household spatula. I said, “I think I may have a bout of appendicitis coming on. Let me see if I can get this guy to get me to the hospital.” I woke up making a run for the passenger door.

Later…

Damn! Amber was in again looking to see if I made my blog public. Well, just as soon as I get the rest of Maliheh’s cat drafts out of there, I’ll set it to public with one post giving my thoughts.com link.

Most people who think of what could have been are often filled with regret. Not me. I’m nothing but grateful that what could have been the case a couple of days ago wasn’t the case at all. :)

My mother, on the other hand, is having a really shitty time of it. Not only is she understandably depressed since dad’s passing less than 6 weeks ago, but she fell and broke her ankle both inside and outside.

When I first called I asked if she got the message I left over the weekend, but she hadn’t gotten it. Then I told her about losing the rat and filled her in on Tom. When I asked how she’d been, that’s when she finally hinted something was wrong and called for Tammy to get on the phone. As soon as I realized she was there again, I thought uh-oh.

Despite the shitty circumstances, though, we had a nice talk. At one point I said I hoped she didn’t have to deal with the pervert, meaning my brother, then asked if Mom was still on the other phone. She said she didn’t think so, so we talked on for about 10 minutes and I got a kick out of how she said they’d tax you just to use the bathroom in Connecticut since that state’s taxes have gotten so outrageous.

Then out pops mom to say she was going to hang up now and let us keep chatting.

Oops.

So she heard me call her son a pervert and say that she really oughta get rid of the store and may not be able to live alone much longer. But as Tammy said, she won’t get rid of the store till she’s ready to because that’s basically all she has left. I can understand her wanting to have something.

I let them know I’d fly out if need be (even if I don’t want to see people I don’t want to see), though I realize there’s not much I could do. I don’t drive, I don’t know the area, and how much housekeeping could there be with a 79-year-old woman with a broken ankle?

Anyway, Dad would have been turning 81 tomorrow had he still been alive, so that’s got to be rough on her. And as always, I have mixed emotions about her. I feel bad for her. She’s only human and so am I. But at the same time, this is the woman who caused me, both directly and not, so much grief for me for so many years.

What were the parents of poor “Zelpha” thinking when they named their daughter Zelpha of all things prior to the 1940s? I like unique names, but not those that sound like another planet!

So I’m a quarter Russian and a quarter Austrian and I didn’t even know it. Yeah, it’s amazing what one can learn after so many years. Since they released the 1940s census records online (where Tom met Zelpha when he was checking Iowa’s records) I learned that both my grandfathers were born in other countries. My maternal grandfather was born in Russia and came to the US at age 4. My paternal grandfather was born in Austria and came over when he was 3. That explains my German maiden name, which is a combo (as many German words are) for “pale stone.” Wish I knew my great-grandparents’ names. I’d love to look them up as well and see where they’re from.

I was just about to say that it’s been a nice, quiet day (even though I didn’t get up till noon), but here we go with the gunning of that loud, obnoxious truck I’m so sick of listening to every day. And why so late in the day? It’s like something up there is making sure he puts his racket off till later due to my schedule. And the sucky thing about it staying lighter later is that this guy, who lives outdoors every minute that he can, can be outside fiddling with things and annoying me for longer than he could in December.

Our nice but incompetent propane guy came today and gave us what I hope is our last 100 gallons. We only put up with him cuz we like the savings we get with this guy versus other companies. I asked what happened to delay him and he said his eye doctor dilated his eyes yesterday with those drops that make your vision blurry. Well, that doesn’t explain where he was on Monday, but we’re glad he got out here, even if we probably would’ve been ok till next week. Meanwhile, I appreciated the compliments (even if I’d rather hear them from my special buddy) about my youthful and fit appearance. Yeah, I’m getting there and proud of it. :) It’s taken a lot of hunger and hard work. But I’m still a work in progress with a lot more work to do.

Oh no, not again! Just when I thought he’d shut up for the night, here goes that incredibly loud truck again. Landlord or not, I’m about ready to call up there and tell him enough’s enough already! We’re the ones paying, after all. This has gone on for nearly an hour now. I wish I was as noise-tolerant as Tom!

I had some spotting last night which I hope doesn’t become a regular thing. I ran and checked and saw that it was exactly two weeks after my period. I have heard that ovulation can cause spotting but it’s only happened to me once or twice before.

I’m surprised to say I’m surprised not to have heard from Nane yesterday, though she did “like” a wall post of mine. She’s still busy renovating her bedroom anyway and I’m sure work must be hectic for her.

The troll peeked in on me today. Made about 8 page views but still no entries of her own. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.

I had a dream about Tink that seemed amazingly real. Enough to make me wonder if it was really just a dream. I mean I know it was just a dream. But was it a “regular” dream or was it Tink’s way of visiting me? In the dream, I never saw the rat’s belly to see if there was a bright white splotch on it like Tink had, but he was very dark brown. I don’t think we ever had a rat as dark as Tink was. I don’t know where I was in the dream but it seemed like I was lying down relaxing somewhere. The rat was curled up on my chest and it seemed that time had passed in the dream. Like over an hour. I was surprised the rat could go that long without having to run home for a drink, to pee, or a bite to eat. Next thing I knew the rat was running around playfully by my side and jumping up to nibble affectionately on my chin, something he used to do in real life. My dream self wondered if it was Tink come back to life and he scurried off as I was trying to guess what rat it could be – Tink, some other rat, or a future rat.

There probably isn’t an afterlife and it probably was just a dream, but when I woke up I remembered Andy saying that spirits couldn’t “do” anything for the first few days. Well, Tink’s been gone since Friday, and people like me are wide open to psychic forces and experiences. When you’re one of those who can tap into dimensions most people don’t seem to be able to tap into, even though we’re all supposed to have that ability, it makes you wonder at times.

The propane people were supposed to come yesterday but they never did. As far as I know, they never even called Tom’s cell to offer an excuse as to why. And so I’m hoping they’ll come today and also wondering how far is far enough? Really, how far do our neighbors have to be before they’re no longer an annoyance? I didn’t even make it to noon in peace today. By 9:30 Jesse started up with the racket – hammering, running power tools – and zooming in and out on the motorcycle.

I am sooo glad we’re getting out of here in a few months! Instead of getting used to his shit over time, I’m only getting more fed up. Maybe some would disagree with me, but I should NOT have to have sound machines on out in the country, and I should NOT have to know about it every time this little shit comes and goes! So again, how far is far enough? Or is there no such thing if you’re me? Well, if I’m so destined to have to hear it no matter where we go, I look forward to doing it in a house with adequate space instead of this little old dump with a landlord who’s living in the 1800s. He doesn’t do TV, he doesn’t do sports, he doesn’t do relationships, he doesn’t do computers; all he does is live outdoors and drive me crazy! Makes me wish it would rain again. But the weather’s going to be nice all week which means I’ll have to either throw on sound machines or listen to him hammering all fucking week. Like I said, after 20 years of this “noise curse” it’s obvious that my neighbors are going to be a nuisance whether they’re a few feet away or a few hundred feet away.

I should be sleeping through most of Jesse’s antics by now, but my schedule is actually backing up instead of rolling forward like usual. I’ve gone from getting up at 10:00 to 8:15 to 7:30 where I should’ve slept till 2pm today. I know myself, though, so tonight I’ll probably sleep 12 hours to play catch-up which means I’ll probably sleep till noon tomorrow. Of course I’ll have to sleep with the sound machine blaring really loud so the morning hammering session doesn’t wake me up. I’m amazed I was even awake enough to work out today, though I only ran 15 minutes and burned 150 calories. Did some lifting, too.

I gained back 3 of the 4 pounds I lost thanks to a bag of Jelly Belly’s on Saturday and a stint at KFC on Sunday, but it was worth it. I’ll only run it back off over the week anyway.

It’s going to be warm today so I turned the heat off and am going to get my running out of the way after I post this.

Anyway, some people have been curious, so to clarify the curiosity, I’m not an atheist. An Atheist are those who do not believe there is a God. I’m more agnostic because I just don’t know. I haven’t seen anything with my own two eyes to convince me there is a God, but I haven’t been convinced that there isn’t a God either. I simply do not know.

It was nice hearing from Nane this morning. She’s busy at work now as the first of the month is when they’re at their busiest, and is redecorating her bedroom. The way she talks of repainting and redoing the wallpaper and all that makes me think she owns and doesn’t rent. Still, it’s another reason to be glad we’re not neighbors as hot as she is, LOL. She says she probably won’t be online for a few days but will share a picture when it’s all done. She’s going from dark peach to light cream, I guess, to make the room seem larger. She’s also super happy for Tom and I.

I’ve never been a fan of dark colors in general. I like pastels or neons, but because I like to sleep in total darkness, a midnight blue or deep purple bedroom might be ideal.

Either way, the decorating has always been up to me. Tom has never worn the pants in that department, LOL, and as I love to remind him, he doesn’t even wear a shirt!

Still nothing from Maliheh and I don’t want to go asking and whining about why I haven’t heard from her in so long. If my suspicions are right about her, that’d be what she’d want.

Later…

Let’s see…Jesse drove me crazy earlier, the propane people will be here today, and it looks like I’m going to get through the first business day of April without any pig shit. New quarter, new worries. But like I said before, I will make them suffer more than they could ever make me suffer should they decide to fuck with me in person. Unfortunately, there are still 28 more days in the month. After all, they didn’t stick their nose in my Google info till the 18th of October, and they waited till the 9th of January to email me if it was really them. Don’t know the point in pulling a piggy impersonation, though, other than just to scare me till I called the pigs, as they hoped, only to be told they had no information for me. Real pigs or not, if I can get to May without hearing anything I’ll breathe a lot easier.

I swear I even had a dream last night where she was apologizing to me. LOL, nothing she’d dare do even with a gun held to her head or an offer of a million dollars.

Later…

You know how I have a million reasons to resent God and be pissed at Him? Well, I’m actually thanking the hell out of Him right now. It doesn’t undo the past, but you see, if he hadn’t gotten that job, TODAY would’ve been his last day! Yup, the would-be lay-off. Right now I’d be miserable and crying tears of frustration. Instead, I’m nearly in tears of gratitude. Had he been laid off we could’ve been stuck here indefinitely depending on how long it took him to find another job and what it paid. Others were laid off today. He could’ve been one of them, but something looked out for us for once, though Tom is a very good worker who proved himself worthy of being hired.

His new shift is going to be 10am - 6:30pm. He’s very happy with those hours. Less traffic but that still leaves mornings open, and for some things, evenings as well. Sometimes I wonder if it’s my dad looking out for us and not God. Why all of a sudden? Less than 6 weeks after my dad dies something suddenly seems to care about us. Whatever it is, I’m just glad he wasn’t one of the ones to be axed! I’d be all pissed, bummed out and stressed out as Tom scurried to apply for unemployment and food subsidies yet again. It would have ended up draining our savings to supplement what it didn’t cover, etc.

Can’t wait to find out if he gets a raise and what it may be. The supervisor put in for him to get a raise but because he has the same job title, he may not. I’m just glad he didn’t get laid off and that today wasn’t the shitty day it could’ve been!

I’m also glad he’s finally getting the recognition and the pay he deserves. A $600 biweekly unemployment check was not what he deserved for 28 months.

Tom and I are enjoying a relaxing Sunday. We went to KFC earlier. I ate every bite of my delicious chicken, biscuit, corn and cheesy mac. It was sad not to be able to share some with the rat. He loved the mac and the biscuits and nibbling on chicken bones.

The airbed is too cold and the memory foam is too hot. Right now I have the memory foam on top of the airbed during this cold spell. And yes, it’s messing with my back again. As soon as it warms back up and the rain stops we’ll switch back.

So all that vehicle work I had to listen to when we were burying our pet was to make the old truck as loud as it used to be so he could annoy me further by gunning the damn thing for 10-15 minutes every time he takes off? Wonder how long this is going to go on. I sooo hope and pray that if we get into an adult community we don’t have loud vehicles that people gun and run for-effing-ever right next door, cuz remember, we’ll be going back to having neighbors just an arm’s length away.

Been making an awful lot of errors and typos lately in my journal. Andy’s been kind enough to point them out to me, but I’m guessing it’s the Mac’s built-in reader which isn’t nearly as realistic-sounding as the one I’d been using in Windows. But they don’t have a Mac version. So for now I’ve slowed down the Mac reader and maybe then I’ll be able to catch these things.

Later…

I guess now’s a good time to write about the disturbing dreams I had last night even though my inner right wrist hurts. I’m guessing it’s a muscle strain from working out.

Seeing that it’s now April and a new quarter, I really hope the dreams didn’t mean anything. Especially since they were all “wrong.” It seemed like a public defender of sorts was telling me she felt confident she could get the case dismissed since there were more important things to tie up the courts for. My dream self seemed to understand it was a black bitch thing, though I was charged with threats and not spam. But then the “courthouse” suddenly had a buffet. Mom and Andy were there, and then it was going through my mind that I was being charged with threatening Maliheh and not the black bitch.

There was also something about me having to wear a shower cap to sleep for a few nights (in jail?), and rehearsing in my head what I would say to the judge in my defense.

But there isn’t going to be a defense, I reminded myself when I woke up because I did nothing wrong.

But what did they frame me for? Come on, Arizona’s laws may be crazy, but sending her blogs was simply not enough. What did they do?

sighs They just better hope I never find out.

I realized another thing that suggests the pig might not have been a pig, though with my shit luck, it probably was. I know Arizona and I know the black bitch. She would go running to the pigs over a few harmless emails, and the pigs would make a big stink over it. If she were white and there was no history between us, then probably not. BUT… it does seem odd that I was emailed. I mean, who the hell tells someone they’ve made a case against them in an email? Maybe it’s a common practice if they can’t get hold of the person’s address or phone number, though I still don’t see why they couldn’t. It’s not like we ever tried to hide or anything, and there are several ways I’d think they’d be able to find either of our addresses. If anything I would’ve thought our physical address would be easier to find because it’s connected to our IP. Our UPS Store box isn’t.

Either way, there’s just some business you simply don’t conduct by email. Like big win notifications. Any legitimate company is going to call or contact you by postal mail. Sometimes they’ll email you, but not without calling and sending overnight letters in addition.

sighs again Hopefully this is another thing I’ll never know for sure.