I type faster than a bullet yet I don’t know if my fingers can keep up with my brain as there are so many thoughts and emotions running through me right now. I will try to put to print all the details I can, but will only share this entry with the few people I’m closest to, though I may publish some of it. There’s a lot of sadness and anger in this entry and it’s anything but positive, so I’ll understand if anyone doesn’t want to read it or may just want to skim it. It could be a long one either way. It’s been a frustrating day turned emotional.

I can tell you right now, though, that I’m a firm believer in what an old therapist once told me and that’s that there is no right or wrong emotion. So I’m not about to feel guilty or ashamed for the ill feelings I have towards my mother and some others. I have always believed that if one can respect oneself enough to walk away from abusive people who aren’t related to them, one can and should do the same with abusive people who are related to them. Just because she gave birth to me doesn’t make her abuse ok. It is no ticket to tolerance as far as I’m concerned. I am not obligated to stick around and pretend I care or that I have any respect or love for the woman because I don’t. Sometimes I wish bad things upon her, but I am mostly numb with indifference. I sure wasn’t today, though. Despite all the shit my mother has put me through I’ve never wanted to harm her in any way. I mean physically. Today, however, after I got off the phone with Tammy I knew that if I suddenly appeared before her in the nursing home she’s in I’d have throttled the bitch from 80% demented to a perfect 100%.

My rage isn’t just about what she and others have done to me, it’s about them getting away with it time and time again.

“She’ll never do a day in jail for what she did to us!” I raged at Tom. “She’ll never know a day of poverty. I was vindicated in the end, but still, the black welfare bums and their pig pal will never pay for setting me up.”

“The welfare bums are still welfare bums,” Tom tried to assure me.

“But she works for the city! You know she started doing that right before she moved. City workers make big bucks.”

“Not anymore. If you still have your job with the city it’s because you accepted huge pay cuts.”

Maybe so, but none of this is good enough. God has always ALWAYS protected my perps. I don’t think, but I KNOW that if I were murdered He would not only protect my killer from the law, but He would probably also go so far as to make sure they had a pretty decent life, too. Knowing this is pretty damn scary because that’s something that takes a lot of hate. A LOT of hate. On the other hand, Tom would take care of them if he knew where they were. Still, people get compensated in court all the time for the dumbest of things, but it looks like I’m not going to get shit in the way of compensation from my abusers, thanks to their stupidity. Many think that seeking compensation be it legal or not is wrong. They also think that revenge is revenge even if it’s done through the courts by having a perp charged, convicted and sentenced.

But if people aren’t made to pay for their actions, isn’t that like saying it’s ok? The bitch is never going to pay in jail time or any other way for abusing us. Therefore, a little money would’ve helped. It wouldn’t have changed or undone the past, but it would’ve helped. I don’t expect those who haven’t been abused to get this, but regardless, it’s how I feel. Something up there felt I didn’t deserve to be born to a loving mother, so the least it could’ve done was let us have a few grand to help jump-start renovations on our new home which isn’t going to be very “new.” People say she’ll pay in the afterlife, but we can’t know that. That could be pure wishful thinking for all we know.

I’ve learned that the bad guys aren’t always the bad guys and the smart guys aren’t always the smart guys. I’ve been old enough long enough to know my parents weren’t these strong, perfect people we often see them to be as kids. I know they have their weaknesses. I know they’ve made mistakes. But it seems I didn’t quite realize the extent of it till now. Or maybe I had some idea but I just didn’t get it. I’m not good with numbers. I have always been as bad with numbers as I am good with writing and learning languages.

One day I realized I had achieved fluency, though not perfect fluency, in Spanish. I now knew three languages. But that wasn’t enough. Three languages just weren’t enough. So I kept studying languages and writing stories but I never bothered with going beyond basic math abilities and even my “basics” are shaky. Nane explained her job to me and I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it. I told Tom what she said and he explained it to me. I still didn’t get it. For all I know a presentation is me presenting what’s left of my doll collection for one to see. A performance is something I see on YouTube. Funds are something my twisted country gives too much of to other countries because it refuses to take care of its own. That’s all I know.

Tom always said not to defend, excuse or play down the situation, but my parents’ money is theirs to do as they please with, and that we should appreciate the help they gave us when we needed it in 2007 and see consider anything else as just an appreciated bonus.

If they hadn’t been such shitty parents, then maybe I could see it that way, but it’s not that easy.

So many people believe there’s a good God out there, but I have believed – no, I’ve known – that there is something up there that has hated me for the most part. It hasn’t shortchanged me when it came to true love and good friends, but it’s had it in for me in almost every other way imaginable.

Before we left Oregon we had two huge letdowns from two different potential moneymaking sources. I won’t get into what they were, but that’s when reality hit me. It was winter of 2007 and that’s when I realized that “God” or whatever’s up there would see to it that we never had much money and may even fight to keep us struggling most of our lives.

Then his pitiful excuse of a mother disowned us for daring to ask for help after we helped her and lost thousands of dollars to her that she promised to repay but never did. When I thought of those two lost opportunities and then realized that we wouldn’t get an inheritance from either of our parents (although at the time I thought we wouldn’t get anything from my folks because we weren’t talking), this was when I lost any last doubts that something was out to curse us financially just as much as it had with neighbors and other things.

Sure enough, half a year later we moved down to Cali to better our lives in a place we thought had more opportunity. Then the economy collapsed. I don’t have to be a financial genius to know it will never get better. It’s too far gone to ever make much of a comeback. It must be torn down and rebuilt from scratch to be “repaired,” but this is never going to happen because people are just too stupid to know any better. Or to at least do what needs to be done instead of just talking about it.

I’ve been back in touch with my parents since 2007 after a 10-year quiet spell brought on by shit they pulled that I won’t bother to get into. Andy is the only one I regret dumping, but I’m getting off-topic. Well, I never would’ve been back in touch with them if it weren’t for our moment of desperation back when we were in motels. We’d spent 36 hours on the streets and then pawned and sold some stuff to get a room for the night. Tom was in a real Catch-22. He couldn’t go to work because he had to spend time selling things. So we were losing money while trying to make it. We lived like real bums as if we were lazy, drug-dependent people who didn’t give a shit. I hated God above with a passion and I still do. We were genuine bums while some others lived high off the hog simply for breathing. It isn’t those who work hard and gets what they deserve I have a problem with, as I said in a previous entry, it’s those who work hard that DON’T get what they deserve that really pisses the shit out of me. But the point is that that’s the only reason I reached out to them at the time. Hell, I’d have reached out to Jeffrey Dahmer had he been our only option! At the time I thought they were still doing ok since they overnighted $450 to us, plus paid for a couple of nights at the hotel. Even so, a sudden thought hit me later on down the road – that God would make sure to screw me out of my inheritance some other way.

Through online research and other things, we’ve come to suspect that their money dwindled the older they got. For one, mom was always a high spender. It was always more important to her that her fucking mutts had bows in their ears as opposed to her kids having enough to eat. Between the constant spending, the economy collapsing, and their acquiring more medical problems with age, I suspected they were going broke.

“I tried to tell you this, sweetie,” Tom said to me. “No one their age works just to keep active. They work because they need the money, only they would have hidden the fact that they were going broke.”

That’s true, too. That’s definitely something they would’ve tried to hide from people. It’s not like they’d be quick to brag and say, “Hey, we once inherited a ton of money, but we weren’t the least bit smart about our money and so we blew it all and left nothing for our kids. At least not the ones that deserve it most.” Dad did, however, say the economy got them down so bad they couldn’t even save, and what they did save had to go to medical expenses. Still, when I learned that Jennifer (Larry’s 30-year-old daughter) is to be getting money as well as a valuable chest mom’s parents had while I may not get shit, that made me want to strangle the bitch like never before! This estranged granddaughter of hers who doesn’t even know she exists, much less give a damn about her, is going to get what should be mine. Tammy said she doesn’t want her fucking money, but I’m just the opposite. I want to milk the bitch for every cent I can. Why not, people do this to people in court for a helluva lot less than what my mother’s done to us over the years. Jennifer, on the other hand, appears to have a full-fledged nursing career. Well, guess what folks? I don’t have any career. Our lovely God has seen to it that I not only can’t work but also can’t collect disability either. So once again Jodi gets the short end of the stick. She doesn’t get what she deserves while someone else gets what they don’t deserve. Thank you, God. Thank you so much for caring about me.

Tammy initially asked me what I wanted from the house, but as I told her, Mom and Dad’s material things don’t interest me. All I wanted was money to help with the upcoming move and I thought we’d get at least a few grand. Had I known exactly what Jennifer was going to take and that we’d be fucked out of money, I’d have asked Tammy to try to get it to me before she could get it and then I’d have sold it. Tammy said she went through the place looking for things of value but there wasn’t much of anything. The only other thing of value is their vehicle but that has to go to pay off their fucking debts which I’ll get to soon enough.

This is why I was furious to learn Larry had knocked his child-woman up. Tom had asked what I could possibly have against this unborn child and that it doesn’t matter how many grandkids one has since it’s just the kids that inherit, but not in my family. When I remembered how my mom’s parents gave each of their 5 grandkids 2K, I figured she would give to her grandkids as well. Well, even if the bastard’s born to a 21-year-old welfare bum with daddy issues, it still counts as a grandkid. If the fucking pervert had just waited till the bitch was dead, then he could knock up the whole damn world for all I care. So not only has God helped ensure me no compensation, He “replaced” the son the pervert killed in 1995 with his carelessness. As I always said, God killed the wrong Larry that night.

I didn’t realize just how careless and downright dumb both my parents were either, her with her overspending and warped priorities, him with his being too soft and not having a backbone of his own. It’s very common with Jewish couples for the woman to wear the pants. He did whatever she wanted. He stood by her no matter what. That’s my only complaint about my otherwise cool, easygoing dad. He just wouldn’t put his foot down. When she got abusive he looked the other way, not that he was totally exempt from the abuse himself. Oh, he could say some nasty things at times, and he had a way with his belt when he got pissed enough. But still, there was no comparison between him and her. I don’t think, but I know that had she killed one of us he would have stayed with her just the same AND the bastard above would have protected her and made sure she never did 5 minutes in jail.

Things were the same with her own parents. Jack wore the leash and Shirley controlled that leash. When Shirley told Jack to jump, Jack jumped.

“Jack, don’t breathe!”

Jack didn’t breathe.

The plan was to dump Tammy as soon as they both died and we got whatever may be coming to us, but now I’m not so sure that’s necessary. There is a connection between two sisters who were abused and I’m not so sure the enemy really is the enemy anymore. She still swears it was Bill and Bill only who called the pigs when I threatened him for his treatment of her and Lisa, but she did admit to and apologize for other things. I had feared she would try to burn me again because she can be more spiteful and vengeful than I used to be once upon a time. I know she’s just itching to report Larry’s child-woman to the Massachusetts Welfare office for living with the baby’s working father in Florida. But I think she has gotten above and beyond some of the things she used to do, and I wouldn’t be dumb enough to give her ammunition to use against me by doing the kinds of things I used to do, like threaten cocks like Bill. I’m either going to just do it or keep such threats to myself.

I just didn’t get her for a while there. I’d slap the shit out of any man that was as rude and disrespectful to me as Bill and others were to her. But as she said, that was all she knew for so long. Tammy’s 8 years older than me and Larry’s just 3 years older than her. When she was alone with him, he’d be like mom and kick her around. I know it’s common for a lot of women who were abused as kids to seek out abusive men or to become abusive themselves by beating their husbands, boyfriends and kids. That’s how Paula is. If she has a hard day, she takes it out on whatever guy she’s with whether she’s PMSing or not. Some of it is still the guy’s fault, too. They provoke women either thinking they can’t or won’t fight back, though we rarely hear about abused men because they are often ashamed and embarrassed to admit they took one from a woman. It is still believed that bigger is always stronger, regardless of physical fitness and state of mind.

Anyway, she admitted that sending Tom that letter in defense of her abuser was wrong and that it was on account of her low self-esteem. She swears she knew I was still in Arizona when we left Phoenix, but didn’t know where we’d moved to or Tom’s family’s name in order to call and trace us through them as they would’ve been dumb enough to disclose that info. If this is really true, then I’m suspecting the outstanding warrant that was out on me at the time pushed the pigs to hunt me down. I don’t blame her for the warrant on account of the white/Jew-hating welfare bums that set me up with the help of their pig pal (I won’t get into how he did it) for the city complaint we lodged. If we didn’t know it was out on me, then she certainly couldn’t know about it. If the pigs make a case against you, they put out court subpoenas and then warrants when you don’t show up, even if they don’t know where you are and can’t serve you. Well, we had no mail service at our Maricopa house, so they couldn’t have served me their little court call. It was when the pig came to the house on account of Bill that they routinely ran a check and discovered the warrant.

So as Tammy and I both agree, we’re thrilled to know Bill’s cancer has returned and I hope to hell he suffers miserably for having a hand in costing me half a year of my life and thousands of dollars, not to mention emotional distress like crazy. You know what else? I don’t care who may think I’m wrong for saying so! I would still beat that cock’s ass if it materialized before me, only now it would be for different reasons than I had when I sent the letter I sent him.

I’ve chosen not to actively seek revenge on anyone be it legally or not because I always get punished for doing so. God screws me by letting others screw me, and He screws me if I try to fight back.

There’s a difference between those I don’t want anything to do with and those I hate so damn much I could not only never forgive them, but know I would mutilate if they magically materialized before me. Kim and Molly are people I want nothing to do with. I don’t like them one bit. But I don’t hate them either. I can forgive people for the kind of shit they pulled on me even if that might still mean I don’t want to associate with them.

But every single person that had a hand, both directly and indirectly, in getting me thrown in jail, is a whole different story. Even if I’d been 100% guilty of writing such a mean, threatening letter to our less-than-kind welfare bums who drove us crazy at our own expense since it was our tax dollars that allowed them to sit on their asses and raise hell, who the hell deserves to go to jail for half a year and then lose thousands of dollars for a fictitious letter?!?! For a fucking letter that, had it been real, was mere words on paper that no one was forced to read, mean or not. That was sent to an adult and not a child.

But everything was all about how black they were, and poor poor blackie this and poor poor blackie that. And of course they had kids and we didn’t. Well, the two measly little pranks I pulled on them – totally provoked by them in the first place – doesn’t mean I deserved what I got! Right or wrong, you can’t pick on someone for 3 years and not expect a reaction. So yes, I pulled a couple of pranks but it was nothing compared to what was pulled on us as neighbors and then through the law when we moved and tried to escape their shit. Never once was their credibility and integrity ever questioned. They casually and freely lied in court and to the media, no questions asked. All the blame was 100% thrown on me. Never once were they asked if they instigated anything. No one knows about the endless hours of noise, trash and vandalism we went through on account of these assholes. I was so, so hurt and definitely offended when no one (except for the few who were powerless to help me) would listen to or believe a word I would say in my own defense. Well, then why did they fucking ask?! Words can’t describe how pissed I’d be when people would ask why they did certain things, I would answer, and then they’d say, “Nah, that wasn’t why,” even though they never lived there or met the assholes.

I know what happened and I know why it happened. So does my husband. If you don’t have a hold on me of any kind, then I have no reason to bullshit you. If I were a drinker and on probation and asked by my PO if I drank and the answer was really yes, you bet I’d lie in that case. But if one doesn’t have a hold on me, don’t expect any tall tales from me because you can’t use the truth against me in any way. You can not like it, but you can’t beat me over the head or control me with it in any way or spank me and send me to bed without any dinner.

The fucking judge made up his mind about me before he even heard me speak in court. This perfect stranger donned a black robe and sat in judgment of me and a situation he knew virtually nothing about other than a pack of lies from one side and one side only. He wasn’t there. My husband and I were. No matter how many false assumptions were made, no one gave a shit and no one would listen to me.

Although my family has nothing at all against gays, it hates blacks and Muslims. While I may hate people as a whole I have always tried to judge people based on their individual behavior and not their color. But like it or not the vast majority of blacks, at least in America, have been determined to “avenge” the past and make the whites of today, who have absolutely nothing to do with the slavery of the past, pay in some way. They’re using their race against us like crazy and it’s automatically our word against theirs. This pisses me off same as people blaming today’s Germans for Shitler’s shit. But I not only can’t have a White History Month or a white whatever without being called racist, but I also can’t have a black person charged with a hate crime should one attack me for being white. How is that any more correct than it is to deny gays equal rights?

Although I was vindicated in the end, there is no record whatsoever to show this that I know of. That’s another wonderful thing about this country which even my sister is coming to hate (I told her I’ve been thinking of trading it in someday for Spain), we air people’s dirty laundry out, but we seldom air their victories out. So I have nothing to show for the vindication that came 2 ½ years too late other than the memory of a phone call early one morning in the late spring of 2003. Scared the living shit out of me, too. It was just after 6am and when I saw it was my PO I thought, “Oh no! They’ve set me up again! They’ve accused me of some shit I have no way to prove I’m innocent of and now I’m gonna get another 3 years or worse.” But it was my PO giving me the good news. I’ll never forget that day. I ran around the house grinning like a mad idiot. Then I was overcome with this strange, sickening urge to hurt myself. Why? Because I was so used to some form of abuse, for once I wanted the abuser to be me so I had no one to blame but myself. I never did hurt myself, though. Just vowed to never ever forgive God.

Getting off-topic again. Sorry! I admit that for a while I was so disgusted with my sister that I couldn’t stand to even look at her picture. Then I just didn’t know what to believe. The family is filled with a web of deceit and illusions that’d make anyone’s head spin. As flaky, weird, and childish as I can sometimes come across with my playful nature, I like to think I’m both sharp-minded and with a good sense of character, but sometimes even I don’t always know what to think.

Tammy has expressed a desire to move on, chat with Tom sometime, and have me get to know Mark who I will admit does sound very kind and loving. They’ve been together for over 10 years now. The only two people he hates are Bill and Larry, LOL. I asked Tom how he felt about my keeping in touch and he saw no harm in it and agrees the past is the past, and regardless of who did what, it can’t be changed anyway. Well, I don’t want to make any decisions right now one way or the other, but I did make it clear to her that we’ll never return to New England. Oh yes, she and I are true opposites. We don’t look alike, we don’t share any of the same interests, and where she likes a seasonal climate, I like a warm one. They didn’t like Florida at all and are thinking of swapping Connecticut in for either Maine or New Hampshire. Ugh! Even so, some people just think the world is all wrong if the leaves don’t turn colors and fall off. It’s still wrong if it doesn’t snow and then the leaves don’t sprout themselves in the spring. And it’s totally wrong to step outside on Christmas to find it 80°. The only time I like it cool is when I’m sleeping and working out, but that means 70°, not 7° with snow and ice. So she can keep her hot chocolate to cuddle up with by the fire while I run around in shorts and sports bras.

I will admit I was a bit of an absentee aunt there for a while even after we slowly started communicating again, for two reasons. One was because Lisa and Sarah were very rude to me in 2010, especially Lisa, Two, I saw it as friend mixing which can be a bad concoction at times that has a way of backfiring on you. Well, I didn’t want to get caught up in the “he said, she said” game. I’m still keeping my distance, though I have no hard feelings at all and wish them the best. Maybe we’ll talk in the future or maybe we won’t.

She got a new laptop, but won’t be back online till the 18th. Poor girl’s got over 100 pounds on me, too. I guess she’s on some medication that’s got steroids in it and it makes a person anything but slim. Everyone’s so tall in the family except for me, though that fucking bitch of a mother of mine wasn’t that big. About 5’ 3”, 160 pounds.

Back on topic yet again. I was under the impression all 3 of Tammy’s girls were anti-Larry, but apparently, Lisa’s been in touch with him. I guess the pervert called her to ask what Tammy took from the condo or something like that. Anyway, Tammy went off on a tangent about Lisa. I guess that Lisa’s caused all kinds of problems for the family, and Bill and her sisters don’t want anything to do with her or at least not much. I won’t get into what it was Lisa said to me a couple of years ago but right away I could see that something was off. She’s obviously not right in the head, but I doubt it’s in the way Molly’s fucked in the head, and I think a lot of her problems were Tammy and Bill induced. I don’t know her well enough to judge, and I don’t want to get involved with any family problems that don’t pertain to me. Nonetheless, Tammy went on and on about Lisa raising hell and “trying” to hang onto the relationship but getting fed up.

First I really poured out our past struggles to Tammy and she really listened and never judged me for my feelings and beliefs (she used to hate God like I do but now thinks He’s just great) and for that, I really appreciate her.

I try never to condemn anyone for their beliefs but I don’t get how she can be such a fan of God. He let the abuse happen. So that’s another one I don’t get. Wouldn’t my buddying up to God be like a woman buddying up to her rapist? But I can see where if one has a relatively good childhood and doesn’t struggle much as an adult and usually gets what they want, they would be quicker to say God was good. If I suddenly won a million dollars, I wouldn’t say God was good since the damage has already been done, but it would help. I still think, for reasons we’ll probably never know, God sees people as we do. Some He hates, some He likes, some He loves. If being a 1 out of 10 means being the most hated, then I’d say I’m probably a 3 or 4 overall, but if you take just this last year of my life, I’d say I’ve moved up to an 8 or 9. Regardless, He let so many people use, abuse and walk all over me, and then He gave them 100% guaranteed protection. How do I “buddy up” to that?

“We lived like bums while mom and dad lived high off the hog!” I shouted to Tammy. “Never consider yourselves bums,” she said.

Oh, I don’t. It’s her lovely God that apparently does. It’s her lovely God who felt my husband deserved 28 months of employment while his wife deserved a sleep disorder. Nonetheless, we struggled our asses off in a tiny trashy trailer for years. I tried to tell myself it was better than some slum in a third-world country, but this isn’t no third-world country! This is the US of fucking A!

I have tried praying for things I’ve needed and wanted, but the results were inconclusive. If I got some of the things in the end it was probably a coincidence that would’ve happened anyway. I have, however, noticed that if I cuss God out and really let Him know what I think, I get punished for it. Things just get worse. They break or other minor inconveniences start escalating. So I am forced to keep in most of my emotions since He obviously can’t handle them and doesn’t want to hear them. So I won’t belittle myself by crawling to this entity that so obviously hates me so, but I try to keep the cussing spells to a minimum.

She was happy for us and how we’re house hunting now, and said she just got a bedroom set she loves. Well, I’m happy for her in return, and although we could do it all ourselves if we had to (it would just take a year or two), I really hoped the least my mother could do after the years of hell she put me through was contribute enough to at least jump-start the renovations and new furniture and all that stuff. That was the least the bastard above could’ve helped see that we got if He gave a damn about me at all, but no, of course not. At least it doesn’t look that way.

Ok, here’s what happened that really got me furious as hell. Tammy said that when Dad was dying he muttered, “It’s not enough. I’m sorry. It’s not enough. I’m sorry.” But she didn’t get it till she learned some things right before mom had a stroke. Well, the store just sold for 50K, but they owed that much on the condo. Then not too long ago, Mom took out a 50K loan which Tom later confirmed he saw online. So now they’re up to owing a little over 100K. Tammy wanted to list the condo for 120K. Not in this economy, the realtor told her.

Why oh why do I feel like God “guided” them and set things up to end up this way just so I wouldn’t get shit? If I’m psychic enough to know other things, mostly through dream premonitions, why would I be wrong about Him or something else up there hating us?

I’ve pounded out half a dozen pages of raw emotion and I’m getting kind of tired. I’ll continue on with the saga later.

Later…

My day started off frustrating and full of tech issues, but then it turned downright sad and infuriating. I am currently composing an entry about it that will only be shared with my closest friends. It’s long, sad and very graphic, so those I share it with may not want to read it. That’s ok. It’s their choice. But if I email it to them they’ll at least have the choice to make. It will probably be done sometime tomorrow. Right now I’m too tired to finish that or write much else.

I woke up with a backache and hip pain and was reminded of why I hate this overly firm mattress so much. I look very forward to the new one coming soon.

Then it was off to fight with phones, keyboards and fans that didn’t want to work right, along with the usual Internet issues. Right now it’s out cold so who knows if I can post this when I’m done.

We’ve been looking at places in the park that his coworker lives in as I’ve mentioned before. But then last night Tom found a good deal on a doublewide. It’s being sold through a realtor, but we’re definitely interested in checking it out. It’s old and ugly but we can make it pretty. It’s 1200 square feet which is better than 720 or 2000, and it’s a corner lot. Satellite images show the roof looks horrible, but it is in otherwise good condition for a 1977 model. Ugly colors, but they can be changed.

So we’ve got a slight change in plan. Because it’s a lot of house for so little money, we’re going to check into that first. We’ll probably still be out of here sometime next month, no matter what we move into. We now have adequate savings to get something decent enough. It’s just a matter of finding the right place and going through the paperwork.

Got my first view from the troll yesterday evening. Just a quick visit to my MO blog, but hopefully she’ll be kept too busy to make more than just an occasional quick glance.

“What if you’re really dead, Jodi? What if you really did die the night of October 1st of last year, and what if the wonderful year you’ve had is nothing more than an illusion or wishful thinking from the afterlife?” some anonymous being in my dreams asked me last night.

I answered the same way I would for real; that I’d rather “think” I was living the good life before I knew for sure I was suffering in any way.

Regardless, I slept horribly last night. Another inner wall of the airbed let go, making its shape rather unsleepable. So I deflated the piece of shit and tossed it out on the porch. Then I folded the 4” memory foam topper in half along with the 1” plain foam topper, never more glad for my child-size body, fat or not, and slept on that while he slept on the original foam mattress.

So I settled in for the night and was not only immediately reminded of why I hate memory foam with the way it causes you to sag and overheat, but the whole ensemble was tilted for some reason. I guess that would be due to some parts of the foam being worn out. It’s a miracle I didn’t wake up with a backache, but the makeshift mattress wasn’t thick enough to cause my body to sag to the degree that it did when the memory foam was atop the original mattress.

Then it hit me that I had been stupid. I could’ve just blown up the airbed we got before the last two, and assuming no inner walls let go, that could be used until the new deluxe mattress gets here in about a week even though it does have a tiny leak in it. Yeah, we finally decided to do what we should’ve done all along and got a real quality mattress from Amazon. Shipping was free, but with taxes, it cost about $270. It should be well worth it. It’s a 13” independently cased coil pillow-top mattress. Even if it’s not quite as comfortable as an airbed, I shouldn’t be waking up with backaches like I used to, and it should definitely last a long time.

As Tom said, though, we were more stupid than I thought since we could’ve just thrown the futon’s mattress in there for now, LOL. Once the platform was bare I went and pulled up all the duct tape that we placed over the screw heads to protect the airbeds, then we threw the original mattress on and topped it off with the plain foam topper. Lastly, we threw the memory foam topper on the futon’s barely plush mattress. So I’ll at least not be sagging too much or feeling like I’m having hot flashes until the new mattress arrives.

We’re doing the paperwork required for the park and I tweaked some online settings too, assuming they’ll look us up online. You won’t find anything on Tom, but I did have the links to my blogs on Facebook set to public. Well, you never know what things people may judge you by, so I set those to friends only for now. Once we get in, assuming we really do, I can open that back up later.

He’s going to type up a letter about our ownership and rental history for the last 10 years. I told him to make sure he lets me read it before he prints it out, knowing what spelling and grammar errors he may make and that if he thinks it’ll take him 5 hours and 45 minutes to do it, have me do it instead. We also shot pictures of our IDs and other things.

His total earnings for the first year at this job are definitely going to be above average. It’s about fucking time, too! It was never those who got what they deserved I had a problem with. It’s those NOT getting what they deserve I have a problem with. I will never forgive God above, if there is one, for reducing us to such bummery and making such bums out of us cramped into this trashy old trailer for so long. I didn’t ask for my sleep disorder and my husband never asked to spend 28 months on unemployment. I’ll NEVER be His bum again and neither will my husband!

Speaking of work, I’m going back to my job as an artificial intelligence worker as soon as we’re moved and with a better connection, not because we’ll need the extra money but so I can feel like I’m working too, in ways that go beyond just keeping up the place. I’m also going back to sweeping, but don’t know if I can win the hundreds to thousands of dollars a month in cash and prizes that I used to be able to win. Psychic or not, there’s just too much competition these days.

I started to get pissed off when I saw I gained back the two pounds I half-starved off last week with just one day of pigging out. But not only did I realize it wasn’t all for nothing after all since I wasn’t two pounds above what I put back on, but it’s already backed off. I decided not to pig out again, though, until I’ve lost 4 pounds.

Really hope these views from Arizona are just random coincidences. First Surprise, then Maricopa, now Mesa.

Can’t decide what I want to do today and when. I guess his jeans would be dry in time if I waited till I got up tomorrow to finish the laundry.

So that leaves my workout time to be decided. Should I take another day off or should I work out today? I think I’ll take today off. I’ll shower, cook us a big pot of spaghetti which I know Tom would love to dive into after having to work today, and then I can just relax the rest of the day away unless I decide to do laundry this evening.

We definitely have to order a new bed. Another section of the airbed’s inner wall let go. We’ll order a coil mattress. It may not be as comfortable, but at least it can’t leak or fall apart.

I was thinking of Mom and wondering why Tammy never called with an update last week. I’m guessing it’s because there’s been no change, but I’ll call Tammy next week anyway. I still have such mixed emotions where my mother is concerned and I know I always will. It’s a sad situation in itself to lose your husband of 62 years and then be on death row in a nursing home. But try as I will, I cannot forget the years of misery she inflicted upon me both directly and not. Besides, I’m sure the nursing home she’s in is like a luxury country club compared to the places I ended up in on account of her not being able to cope with motherhood, right God?

I get pissed at those who blame today’s Germans for the shit Shitler and his bunch of whackos pulled for same the reason I get pissed when some of the black folks think whites owe them because of the past. Well, no one in Germany these days has anything to do with Shitler, and no one in America today has anything to do with slavery. Should I blame my ingrown toenail on George Washington?

Wish my nails were big enough to do certain designs, but they’re so tiny no matter how long they are. I won’t be able to get more than one letter from the newspaper on my pinkies. I got fed up and cut them off. I cut them outside. Will the next tenant find them and use them as fake nails? LOL, it’s nice to be able to type easily again and I can even make a tight fist again.

Guess who’s zooming out right now not knowing we’ll be U-hauling our asses outa here soon enough? Still wish we could know when he’d be out long enough to sneak out in the U-Haul instead of giving him notice. Then if he calls about it we can say, “What are you talking about? We’re still here.” LOL

I was flattered to receive a good night “kiss” from Christiane yesterday, LOL. I usually let my “pokes” build up and return them in groups. Well, she poked back as soon as I poked her and I said, “Wow, you’re up early.” It was only 4:30 in the morning in Germany, but she said she was just going to bed late instead and signed off with a cute little kiss icon. Ooh!

Got some exciting news which I really REALLY hope I can post before 9am my time when the hottest woman in Europe takes off for the weekend cuz I can’t get online now. I was on long enough to pick up messages after I awoke, but now it’s out again. But since I usually do my entries in Word, I’ll just get on with it and hope I can post this once it’s done.

Tom asked the lady at work who lives at the park we’re looking into about barking. She says it’s not a problem at all. She said that when someone passes by people who are out walking dogs they sometimes yip at them, but otherwise it’s not like the mainstream. Yeah, well let’s hope Fido doesn’t go off on anyone passing by when he’s let out to take a dump just a few feet from our windows. In other good dog news, they must be kept indoors – yay! So they can’t just tie them up outside before they go to work or when they go out to run errands. I was so glad to hear this! I hope this will deter people from wanting dogs because, for reasons I don’t get, most Westerners don’t believe dogs belong indoors.

Tom said the people managing the place are super nice, and the more he talked to them, the more he doesn’t think there’ll be much trouble getting a place, and that if anything our credit will be just a minor hiccup. We both agree, however, that we don’t want to go from one single-wide dump to another just because it can be ours and much cheaper to rent the lot it’s on than to rent this one from pesky Jesse. We would rather wait for what we want which is a doublewide. It may not be very new and it may need some serious cosmetic surgery, but at least we wouldn’t have settled. As Nane said, if it doesn’t “feel” right, we’re not going to go with it. As annoying as Jesse and his mutts can be we’re not in a desperate situation here like we were in Phoenix, so there’s no need to act in haste. Besides, we have to do the paperwork and let them do the credit check.

He asked about closing costs and all that stuff and I guess there wouldn’t be any of that if we bought a place that was owned by the park as opposed to one a realtor’s selling. It’s a big park with hundreds of homes. He only saw 3, none of which we would want since they were 1-bed, 1-bath, but they said they have about 16 either up for sale or almost up for sale. They’re remodeling and fixing some of them now. They fix anything crucial that needs to be fixed before they sell them.

The average lot these homes are on rent from $400 - $850. Ours will probably be in the $500 - $650 range. This includes trash and sewer, but I’m not sure about gas and water. Probably not those two, and definitely not electric.

Another thing that appealed to us about this particular park is that it’s only 6 miles from where he works instead of 18.

Some of these parks don’t border on mainstream residential areas, but part of this one does. Therefore, we have to make sure we don’t take a place in that section or else we’ll get slammed with tons of barking. Tom was hit with it when they showed him one of the expandos which they call single-wides that have been expanded with add-ons.

The park has more amenities than I thought it did which is super cool. Here, if I want to go outdoors there’s not only any place to go, but I have to hope I don’t get sprayed by skunks or that a bear doesn’t jump out at me. I still love the country way better than the mainstream city, but still, there’s not much I can do out here in the mountains. At the park, though, there’ll be plenty of level streets for bike riding. They also have a pool, a spa, a library, a sauna, a game room, and a laundry room we could use until we got our own washer/dryer.

That’s another thing, the manager said they usually gut the homes before selling them when someone either moves out or dies, so it’s unlikely that we’re going to have a dishwasher, washer or dryer when we move in. On the bright side, we get to pick out the exact ones we want. We really like the idea of getting one of those two-in-ones that both wash and dry clothes. They’re only a couple hundred dollars more than a washer/dryer set. I’m not very hopeful for a dishwasher because there may not be room for one, but that’s not something I have to have. I’m just tired of having to hook up a little puny washer and then hang clothes in here! I want to walk up to a normal, full-size washer and dryer that’s always hooked up and ready to go. Oh, those little luxuries I’ve missed so much that so many people take for granted.

They have potluck dinners too, which brought back a funny memory of when Andy and I lived at the same apartment complex in Arizona in the early 90s that was ruled by a bitch named Stacey which I sort of developed a crush on. Yeah, I’ve got a thing for those tall bitches, LOL. It said to bring a dish. Well, we thought “bring a dish” meant to bring a dish to pile food on. Instead, it really meant, “Bring a dish of free food since you’ll be eating for free, too.” But they let us load up our “dishes” anyway, hahaha.

If we go with a more expensive place where the monthly expenses are comparable to this place, fine. Not only is that ok since we’d be getting so, so much more for the money, but we’ve shown we can save at least $500 a month here. So after we got what we wanted for the place, why couldn’t we save there, too? The most important thing is making sure there’s at least enough to go out and grab and old junker with should this car completely crap out in a way that’s not worth fixing. That would be mostly in the way of engine failure. All other maintenance and repairs Tom can do on his own. He’s always maintained his own vehicles.

So, two more steps – hoping the credit check goes through ok, and then waiting till what we want becomes available.

The excitement and shock of it all hit me again last night and I cried tears of happiness. For years I told myself we would never own again because I didn’t believe it was even remotely possible. It may be a manufactured home as opposed to an on-siter, but it’s still a home, and we can have it paid off in 3 years or less. I don’t like how we’d always have to pay rent for the lot it’s on, but it’s worth it with all the park has to offer. I’d rather that than pay nothing in the mainstream where people refuse to control their dogs and kids, and are always driving by blasting music, though this state isn’t nearly as bad for car stereos as Oregon and Arizona.

I can’t wait to go swimming – woo-hoo! It just may be too cold a part of the year.

It still blows my mind to think that on September 16th, not quite a year ago, we were trying to figure out the best way to die so we wouldn’t have to slowly starve off on the streets when the money ran out. Now we’re figuring out the best home to buy, OMG! My eyes are stinging with tears right now. We had a helluva lot more than just a foot in the grave. I will never forget October 3rd either. After that miracle call came through and saved us, I was sitting here writing when it hit me that by now the landlord would probably be discovering our bodies. shudders at the thought Now here I sit not even a year later, tears streaming down my face to know we survived such an ordeal and are on the road home and that day is coming soon just like Tom and Nane said. That is going to be one seriously emotional day for me.

Other things hit me too, and I ran to Tom and said, “Our baby’s been born! If it’s that close, she (but probably he) has been born by now. He’s only a few inches long and hasn’t got any fur yet, but he’s out there. He EXISTS! And he’s waiting to be taken home by his future mom and hugged and squeezed. Yeah, being the rodent junkie that I am, I doubt we’ll get a dog of our own. I’d only want to take my straightening iron to its tongue every time it barked and woke me up.

Later…

Thank you, Hanna, for letting me know you passed the message I sent you to your mother Stacey since I was unable to message Stacey directly, by disallowing messages. Stacey had that disabled on her own account, so instead, I picked her oldest daughter to share some old memories with. As in some of my 1993 journal entries. I almost wish I saved them just so I could laugh at them, but I know what’s in them. Stacey also let me know she heard about it by way of not only not accepting my friend invite but by blocking me. But did Hanna pass it on and did Stacey read it if she did? I would think she would be curious to see what her own kid was sent, but those who are that unforgiving and unable to move on as Stacey is usually don’t care what anyone has to say about them. They just want to spite them or avoid them. Or both.

Bitch looks smoking hot, though. That much is for sure. Her husband’s profile pic is a shot of them next to a Christmas tree and the bitch is almost movie-star gorgeous with her tall, slim body, perfect teeth and face free of sags and wrinkles. How do some people get so lucky? This woman’s not only younger than fat, sagging little me, if only by a year, but she’s had 3 kids. I’m sure that quite unlike me, God has blessed her with everything she could ever want and that what she can’t get is probably no big deal to her anyway. She’s got a beautiful home unlike anything we’ll ever have, she and her husband no doubt have great jobs, and of course they can both drive and keep schedules just fine. They probably still have a rocking sex life, too.

Her kid was listed on another site as being of mixed ethnicity, but what could that be? If she had all her kids with the same guy, and I assume she did, he looks exactly like what I picture Stacey to go for – someone much like herself. He’s damn near bald and his hair may be a touch darker than Stacey’s, but he’s just another blue-eyed whitey, though I’d say Stacey’s eyes are bordering on hazel and her hair bordering on light brown.

Bad news from Aly. First, though, she thought I was done with her as a friend because she said she sent a couple of messages I never returned. I must not have gotten them, as I told her, and I thought she was done with me too, LOL.

Anyway, the poor girl cut up her hands really bad washing a vase that broke, and she and Dustin are so poor right now they’re struggling to sell and pawn things. We know what that’s like! :(

Molly went into the group home on Monday so it was probably her that looked in on me until Saturday. I figured she must’ve taken Sunday to pack, then was gone come Monday. What sucks is that she reactivated an old account to send numerous messages to Regina asking Aly to keep in touch, as she’ll have her laptop with her. That totally sucks to know she can get online from the group home. Totally. But hopefully they’ll keep her busy enough that it can’t be often. As of yet, though, no Austin, TX visitors have appeared on my list.

Finally had a dream we were actually packing up and getting ready to move. Only problem is I never saw where we were going. I “saw” bits and pieces of this place and the last one before we found it. In Oregon, I saw the chain link fence, the picket fence and the side the driveway and bedrooms were on. Here I saw the forest and me looking out windows through binoculars. Seeing us pack in my dreams is a start but it doesn’t tell me much. Especially when weird things happened along with it. We were in a hurry for some reason. You usually have about a month, but for some reason, we had to pack overnight so we could get out the next day. I even asked Tom when the hell we were going to sleep, LOL.

Here’s where it gets even more interesting. An old lady at work asked Tom if we found a place yet. He said no, but he had an appointment to speak to someone in one of the parks we looked at in Citrus Heights. The lady asked him what park and he told her the Stonegate. Well, it turns out she lives there! She just rents, though, and doesn’t own. I told him to ask about the barking there. He said he’s pretty sure she doesn’t have a dog so she’d be a good one to ask. Most people with dogs are always going to say there’s not much barking. When you have your own dog barking it’s hard to notice others as much. The lady did say that the management people there are fairly new and seem nice enough. They’re good at fixing anything that needs fixing right away, too. That’s good to know cuz I’d hate to end up with another Stacey managing things.

Tom will be meeting with them at 5pm. I hope to hell they’ll accept us, but as Tom said, first we have to see if they’ve got what we want. If they don’t have what we want, it doesn’t matter what they say.

While the idea of owning again still excites me, I also like the idea of renting to see what it’s like first. Who knows what we’ll end up doing? I also like the idea of a real house that wasn’t built before the 90s, but that’s just a dream.

I’ve been half-starving myself lately with about 800 calories a day, plus my half-hour workout. Except for the first day, it’s been easier than I expected. Your stomach shrinks and you do get used to it somewhat, though those last few hours of my day are always the hardest. Just don’t know how long I can keep it up, used to it or not. I’ve got an awful lot of weight to lose but I am slowly pulling away from that dreaded 150-marker I was getting a little too close to.

I’ll have something like a 100-calorie snack bar 2-3 hours after getting up. Once I’ve been up for 6 hours, I’ll have a protein bar and work out. Then 4 hours later I’ll have a 400-calorie or so meal. The last thing I’ll eat will be something like yogurt a couple of hours before bed. This is the only way I’m going to know if something’s really wrong with me or not. If I stop losing weight doing this and it continues to hover where it’s at, then up goes a red flag cuz not even older women shouldn’t be able to lose weight on 1000 calories or less a day even without exercise.

I’m only checking my email once or twice a day now. I’m sick of checking it just to have to muddle through spam that keeps returning no matter how many times I mark it as spam and unsubscribe from the sites that took the liberty of signing me up for the shit in the first place.

As soon as I get ahold of some newspaper and try that nail design I want to try, it’s bye-bye long nails. They’re driving me crazy!

Later…

I was so pissed off earlier. How the hell can a 500-calorie meal put 2 pounds on me??? I even stopped the raspberry ketones cuz they weren’t doing much for me at all. I guess my body must be fighting to hang onto the weight for a reason and I’m just meant to be a big girl. I waited till I went back down 2 pounds and then had 300 calories in snacks. The hunger’s worse today. After the 500 calories, I felt as if I’d burst, but now I feel like I could eat 1000 calories and still be hungry!

Had a little bit of a scare earlier when I saw I had a blog visitor from where the sick black bitch lives. But they landed on an entry about shopping at Target which pretty much tells me they Googled something that landed them there. There’s really no other way into a single post unless they linked into it. But they couldn’t have linked into that entry because the link to it isn’t public anywhere. If it were connected to the sickos, I would think they’d land on the main blog and fly under radar.

Do they still watch me? That’s both a sad and scary thought. Even though I know I didn’t do a damn thing wrong, a part of me is surprised I haven’t been harassed online or heard anything else since that supposed pig emailed me. Once again, why would they just give up on me if it were a real pig? Jurisdiction issues? Because it wasn’t a real cop? Because the DA stopped them after insisting I did nothing wrong and what I did do wasn’t worth it? I still worry they’re gonna jump out at me somehow, real pig or not, but Tom doesn’t think there’ll be any trouble so long as I keep a low profile.

If that was a real cop, again, it’s both sad and scary that they’d put the time and effort into making their little “case” when there are so, so many more people out there that truly need to be thrown in jail. Like violent criminals for instance. But violence is taken so lightly in this country. I would be surprised if Paula ended up in jail, but not at all surprised if she only got 30 days if she did. The laws are so backward, but that’s why I’m not afraid to defend myself if I were ever attacked. Oh, the pigs would turn it around, alright, and charge me with assault. But unless my perp was black or Mexican, I’d get little more than slapped on the wrist for protecting myself.

Got a view from Mystic, CT. They landed on an entry Tammy “liked.” Sure hope it wasn’t any of her kids. I would guess not, though. Wouldn’t they be a little more curious to check out more than just that entry? Wouldn’t they want to know what I might be saying about them and other family members?

No views from Molly’s place since Saturday, but still no messages from Aly either.

When I got up to find a voice message waiting for me I automatically assumed it was from Tammy. Instead, it was from Paula. If her new number is in service for more than 5 minutes then maybe I’ll catch her later on. It’s still only 7am in the east. She’s probably up, but I’ll still wait.

I’m excited about Thursday because Tom has an appointment to meet with someone in park #3. Still don’t know if we’re going to rent to own or just buy something, but hopefully we’ll find out soon enough.

Most of my dreams still continue to be weird or negative, but the overall theme has changed. I’ve gone from poverty to chase dreams. If intruders aren’t after me, it’s me trying to kill strange creatures. Last night it was a frog that grew in size, grew fur and fangs, and took forever to kill even though I’d hit it in the head with a hammer a million times.

I asked Nane if she thought I was joking about the dream premonitions I’ve had and she said no because so many times I have told her about dreams I’ve had involving her and a lot of it actually happened.

Later…

Chatted with my #1 online hottie. Well, she’s my only online hottie, actually. I still, to this day, find myself grinning ear to ear when she “likes” something of mine, leaves comments or sends messages. We talked about talking on the phone after the move (the internet phone cuts out cuz of our shitty connection here and the cells don’t always work well in the mountains). She says she doesn’t call overseas but doesn’t think it’s that expensive. Even if it was a buck an hour I’m sure I could afford a 10-minute chat, LOL. It’d be fun and it’d be nice to hear her speak in English and German. I’ve only heard her speak Turkish so far.

On what’s the cloudiest day in months, I haven’t heard from Tammy yet, but I did call Paula. Turns out I had this other number of hers all along. It was great catching up as hyper as she is. Yeah, she was her usual self, talking a mile a minute, rapidly changing subjects, and hard to get a word in edgewise, LOL.

Turns out she’d heard about all the wildfires in the area and was worried about me. When she didn’t receive a birthday card in May (I thought she might be in jail) and couldn’t get a hold of me she started to wonder if the fires got a little too close.

She’s otherwise not doing too well. She’s on probation and I guess she’s still going to trial for assault and battery with a dangerous weapon, which she might do 30 days for. She’s lucky she’s not in Arizona or Texas, though no state seems to take actions as seriously as words. I just don’t get it. They’ll put you away for a long time if you threaten someone, but if you actually harm them they won’t do much if anything at all, WTF??? Either way, she must have more than one case going since she’s already on probation. The trial is on October 2nd and she pled guilty (stupid thing to do). You would think she’d have learned by now not to succumb to the bullshit threats that come with pleading not guilty. She was probably given false promises for pleading guilty and she fell for it. Now the state gets to make more money off her and feel high on power play.

I don’t know why but she insisted on giving me her SS# and some kind of password in case she goes to jail. I guess so I can look it up online? I know she’s known me forever and all that but I urged her not to give it to anyone else. She can be too trusting and naïve. Nevertheless, as airheaded as my flaky friend of nearly 25 years can be, it was great chatting and laughing over the silliest of silly things.

Another bad thing is that she got a bad infection in her foot and I guess she filed suit against some doctor for malpractice. She was so sick for so long that she dropped from 205 pounds to 148 pounds, which isn’t bad for 5’ 5”.

As I said on Facebook yesterday, if I can piss people off without even trying, I’d hate to think of what I could do if I actually did try. I was joking with Nane about something and it sort of backfired. She took it all wrong when I was only teasing her yet I still felt bad about it. Finally, I decided that if all I could do was piss people off I better get the hell offline altogether. I was beat by the time we returned yesterday anyway.

Where I dreamt about Molly’s mother like crazy the night before last, last night all I had were nightmares. In two of the dreams, someone broke into the house I was living in which looked nothing like any place I’ve ever really lived in before. I woke up running from one intruder and attacking the other.

We went to 4 different parks yesterday, 2 in the state capital and 2 in nearby towns. Saw some totally gorgeous houses we’ll never have along the way, too. Yeah, it kinda sucks to know we’ll probably never live in a real house again and that we’ll be spending the rest of our lives in trailers, but if they’re not as old, small and dumpy as this place, it won’t matter what it is so long as it’s livable.

I liked each park that I saw better than the last with one HUGE disappointment in the last park. The reason I liked the last two better than the first two was that they weren’t as cramped. The first one was super cramped and even Tom agrees I may not be able to sleep well there. Those trailers are literally packed in like sardines! Furthermore, the two that were for sale were in the worst locations within the park. One was right on the pool and clubhouse, another was backed up right against someone’s parking space. The truck there would literally park right against the bedroom wall. Usually, you at least get a few feet, but not with that place. That truck was just inches away.

The manager greeted us along the way and seemed very nice, and while the park itself was cute and the pool looked so inviting, this one would be our last choice. Even if I could be up during the daytime every day, I think it would get annoying as hell in those particular locations.

Another thing the parks have is RV parking. I definitely wouldn’t want to be near that section of the park either.

So we went through the parks, grabbing flyers and writing down numbers on signs that were on some of the trailers and manufactured homes. I loved the way they would decorate them and all the different plants and trees around the place. I saw plenty of wind chimes too, so no worries about having to give those up. I would prefer to be on and next to lots with gravel instead of grass cuz then I wouldn’t have to worry about mowers. As it is I really think there’s going to be a lot of yard and street activity like what we saw – people trimming trees and bushes, walking their dogs, gabbing in the streets. It’s better than a bunch of screaming kids or loud car stereos tearing through the place, but in some ways, it could be noisier there than here. The only difference is that the noise would be more spread out and hopefully not as loud and concentrated, so to speak.

There are other minor nuisances that could be an issue. Nothing we couldn’t deal with, though. Well, most people smoke, and when you have your windows open that could mean having to deal with smoke wafting into the place with people that close to us.

It was in the last park that I was immensely disappointed to hear 3 dogs, yes 3 dogs, going ballistic. One jumped in an open window and went off on me when I got out to grab a flyer. I didn’t think of that but it makes sense that in a climate where windows can be left open most of the year, dogs would be on the lookout waiting to bark at whoever passed by. And if you’ve got your own window open and there are 8 trailers packed in tightly around you, front, back and on the sides, the barking might not be much better than in the all-ages areas. We only saw one cat the whole time. Pretty much anybody that could have a dog would choose that over a cat.

“We only heard barking in one park,” Tom pointed out. Yeah, but I still think it’ll be an issue on and off throughout the day in virtually any park. They may not be big dogs and they may not be left outside overnight, but there’s nothing in the rules we’ve ever seen that says you can’t leave dogs outdoors unattended or that you have to control their barking. Well, half a dozen to a dozen or so 3-minute barking sprees throughout the day can get just as old as non-stop barking. It all adds up. One place even had a little fence around part of it and there’s no reason they would have a fence like that in a place like that if it weren’t to leave dogs out. I’d hate to have my days sprinkled with barking from 7am – 10pm, but I really don’t think there’s going to be any escape from it no matter where we go. At least it won’t be an overnight thing like it sometimes is here with two big dogs going off for 8 or more hours at a time.

We never saw two of the dogs we heard so I can’t say if they too, ran up to open windows or if they were tethered outside. IDK, maybe the message all along has been trying to tell me to get my own dog. Hey, if we have to listen to barking anyway, maybe it should be our own for once and I’d really like to have a pet that lived 12-15 years instead of 2 like with rats. Beagles are kind of cute and I’ve heard good things about them, so we’ll see. First we gotta get into one of these places and I don’t know if we even can get into the nicer parks.

Tom’s gonna make some calls today from work. We’re gonna go for a newer doublewide first. I don’t expect to be able to get it, but we’ll start from our top choices and work our way down to what will probably be not much bigger and newer than this, but if it has enough space, well, we couldn’t make it newer, but we could make it nicer. That alone will make it seem newer. But you know we were meant to live in old dumps. Fortunately, the parks don’t allow old junky trailers from the 60s like this one. I think in California they can’t be older than 1970. I just wish they’d separate the smokers from the non-smokers, though I REALLY wish they’d separate the dog owners from the non-dog owners even if that meant just 5 trailers out of every 100.

Tom assured me we weren’t stuck here, though, and that even though he didn’t think we’d have to, we could take that dumpy old trailer in the sardine park for 2K. Well, it’s nice to know we could do that if this place burned down or something, but not nice to know it was our only option. I sure hope it isn’t, though it would certainly save us a helluva lot of money. Not even God could make us poor again in a place like that!

Anyway, if the monthly expenses are just 1 or 2 hundred dollars cheaper than this and it has an extra bedroom and bath and it’s OURS, that alone is a major improvement, barking or not.

I can’t wait to try this new nail design just as soon as we grab a newspaper from somewhere where you transfer newspaper print to a light-colored polish. The problem is my nails are so small, LOL. I’ll have to use fine print as I could barely get more than one letter onto my pinky.

And the family drama goes on and on and on… Argh! Tammy messaged me from Lisa’s computer saying she still can’t get online. But this is supposedly cuz her computer’s broken. But doesn’t she have the money to get it fixed or to get a new one??? Maybe there’s more to it than I know.

Anyway, all she had to say was that Larry’s causing a lot of issues, Mom was taking his advice, and once again she’s the bad one. Ah, but we have nothing to worry about, she also says, saying that the lawyer will do the right thing. Really? You mean there are cops, judges, and lawyers that “do the right thing?”

If these so-called authority figures had our best interest in mind, then how come, as Tom pointed out, the police don’t care about those who have to live with excessive barking? Really, they don’t give a shit that people like me have to listen to Jesse’s mutts every time he takes off to either get laid by some street whore or play pool all night with his drunken buddies, but they sure as hell give a shit when someone has something to say that they don’t like or agree with. You bet they care then. Words will make people care, but actions won’t matter at all – WTF???

I asked Tom why they bother to make laws (against barking) if no one’s going to enforce them and he pointed out that the people that make the laws aren’t the same ones that are supposed to enforce them. Oh, so then maybe all we need to do is stick a barking dog outside every cop’s house for a good 10 hours or so and then maybe they’ll care enough to get these dog owners to be more responsible, right? Until then I guess they’ll continue to pick and choose what laws they want to enforce based on their own personal experiences and opinions.

As far as my mother goes, I’m fast running out of sympathy. Ok, so I’m sorry she’s depressed, demented and old, but I also wish she would just move onto the Pearly Gates so I can be done with the family drama after 46 years of having to deal with it! Well, make that 36 since I took a decade off. But I took that decade off for a reason and while most may disagree with me, just because my mother gave birth to me doesn’t make her God. It doesn’t make the things she did to me ok. I lost all respect for her years ago and I’m not about to apologize for my feelings nor will I sugarcoat them in any way. Abuse me and you’ll lose me no matter who you are, period. Motherhood does not excuse one from being abusive and I don’t care who may disagree with me or say I’m wrong for my feelings. I don’t care anymore who thinks what about me or who does or doesn’t believe whatever. I feel what I feel and I’m just sick of her and the whole damn family drama as a whole. I’m not obligated to stick around just because I may be related to her, but I will tolerate her existence in my life only because the evil witch supposedly doesn’t have much longer to go. Tammy said she’ll call next week with a health update; something I kind of hope isn’t very good at all. Really, I just wish she would drop dead so I can move on with or without a single penny. That woman spent half my childhood not only making me miserable but also shipping me off to this place or to that place so she could have a quieter, easier life. Well, let’s see God ship HER off for once so I too, can get a little more peace and not have to hear about or deal with the goddamn family drama.

Only problem is most people won’t let me go. Instead, they have to resort to childish, immature stalking and harassment rather than respect my wishes and focus their energies on those who actually want them around. I used to be the same way. It would hurt and piss me off when someone would dump me and I would do everything I could to make that person miserable until it caught up to me and karma bit me in the ass. These days, however, I accept that that’s just life and I let them go and move on. The only one that was hard to let go of and that dumped me over the last several years was Nane because Nane wasn’t just a friend.

So the point is that I’m afraid I’m stuck with Tammy whether I want her in my life or not. Do I? Well, I still don’t feel comfortable with someone in my life who could burn me as bad as she has and who has continued to lie about it because I always worry it will happen again. I don’t know what to do where she’s concerned. If I remain “friends” with her she’ll eventually pressure me to come see her or to let her come see me and neither Tom nor I want that. So what would I say at that point, that we can only be cyber friends? I don’t think that’ll sit well with her. Also, when the next poor spell hits she’d probably help us out so there’s that bridge to consider burning or not burning as well. Like I said, I don’t know what to do. If I do dump her, do I do it silently? Or do I explain and then walk away? And what do I do when she becomes another Kim and Molly? Pretend I don’t know her? That one’s actually kind of funny. The thought of saying I don’t have a sister named Tammy and that she must have the wrong person, but I say otherwise all over my journal. Still, it’s a bit of an amusing thought. sighs I just don’t know what to do. Going underground under a bogus name would be too much work and make me feel dishonest. She’s not worth the effort and neither is any other troll.

Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet. My mother’s not dead yet. But I do know this much and that’s that there’s no law that says I have to associate with my sister or anyone else for that matter. Nor do I need to read and respond to any nasty emails, messages, comments and whatnot they may want to throw at me. So unless they physically come to my door and force me to deal with them, I don’t have to be “stuck” with anyone or succumb to their shit online and be their cyber victim.

Meanwhile, so long as God doesn’t throw yet another curveball at us, we’ll be out scouting parks this morning. Not because we haven’t already seen enough of them, but because we need to start writing down info on for-sale signs. Tom still thinks we’re not going to find a place in an ad but from a sign we see in person.

I was under the impression that all parks are the same and very black and white as far as whose credit is acceptable and whose isn’t. However, he says it would vary from park to park and that by the end of the week, we’ll know more. Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Later…

The nail on my ring finger got a crack in it down by the base so I brushed on some glue to see if that’ll hold it up a while longer. If not I’ll probably cut them all off.

For some reason, I had one dream after another about Molly’s mom last night. Nothing bad, just weird, LOL. Some were long and detailed. I’ll write about them later if I remember to.

I wonder where Alison’s been lately? She peeked in on my blog yesterday but never answered my email. Have I been dumped?

Still don’t know what to make of the random bouts of water retention that hit me out of the blue at odd times of the month. I also don’t like the fact that I not only can’t lose weight on 1500 calories a day plus exercise, but I can even gain weight on that. Finally, I said to myself, if you want to know if something’s wrong with you and if you should see a doctor, starve yourself! If you don’t lose weight then, then yes, something’s wrong.

But it sure is easier said than done. I got up at midnight and had a yogurt a couple of hours later before I went to work out. I can’t work out on an empty stomach. But around 5am the hunger pangs started biting really hard, so I had a protein bar about an hour later. It took a while for my stomach to get that there was now a little food in it, so the pangs backed off somewhat. How could I stand to be anorexic in my late teens???

I miss allowing anonymous comments on my blogs, but I know that if I do I’ll just get hit with spam, scammers, trolls and other shit like that. I don’t need people telling me no one cares about what I have to say (even though they cared enough to take the time to read my blog) or to be told to contact them so they can show me their picture, or phishers telling me to contact the FBI and other law enforcement agencies or else! It’s always the same old shit, though some comments were interesting.

I stripped the plum crackle and white and glazed my nails in Boathouse, which my mom sent me a couple of years ago or so. I used to think that particular shade of red was dazzling but now it just seems so there. It’s almost all used up anyway.

Andy asked for a close-up of my face. Of this fat, old ugly face? Not sure he’d like to see that. Really, I’m not getting any thinner, younger or prettier! On the other hand, why hide forever, right? We all get old and most of us get fat with age, too. Nothing anyone thinks is going to change things anyway, so one of these days I’ll take some face shots. Just not right now.

Now I’m just wishing to hell I knew what was going on so we could get on with our lives. All I do know is that we can’t afford first best. That means settling for second best (if the parks will let us) or giving the Jes pest’s place a serious makeover so we can live here more comfortably until he retires in a decade or so. The thought of staying here another decade both saddens and frustrates me, but as I’ve said many times before, there are worse places to be. Staying here wouldn’t be the end of the world. Someday we will get out of here, though. We really won’t be here forever. But if we weren’t meant to be here we wouldn’t have been here for so long, and I have a feeling we’re not getting out anytime soon so we might as well just make the best of it. One way to do that is to focus on what I would’ve missed had we moved. I would’ve missed people not parking alongside us. I would’ve missed not having people be able to drive by the place, even if they were all park residents. I would’ve missed being surrounded by so much nature. To open the back windows and see nothing but trees is really nice.

Our credit is so bad that I’m almost positive that all we’d be able to rent from were individuals like Jesse. Well, why move from one individually owned dump to another since anything nicer would be well over a grand a month? It also may include a much peskier landlord and a lot more barking. Almost all the rural rentals are on shared lots. If you don’t live with the landlord you live with other renters. Still, I’m willing to try for the best of what we can afford in a 55+ place even though I’m 80% - 90% sure they’ll turn us down despite the fact that we can prove we pay more right here each month.

Andy’s mom has her place up for sale. She’s going to live in a senior place herself. Two prospective buyers failed to show up, he said. I still don’t get the failing to keep appointments or dates. What do people get out of it? Is it just funny to them or something? Well, we’re not going to do business with anyone who’s unreliable, bad credit or not.

I’ve been in places I didn’t want to be in for most of my life. It’s nothing new to me and I’m plenty used to it. Those are just the places I was meant to be in, even if it doesn’t seem fair and I don’t get why. As I pointed out to Tom yesterday, we lost two places of our own yet even when the situation seemed totally hopeless as it did last fall, we sure couldn’t lose someone else’s dumpy heap of shit, could we?

Later…

When Obama was first elected I had mixed emotions about it. I was glad to see a Democrat back in power, and sure it was nice to see the first black president. But I was also bothered by it because I don’t believe we’ll ever see our first woman or gay president and because I believe he was chosen mostly for his color. Sorry, but I’m just not ok with favoring any group in particular any more than I’m okay with shitting on a particular group. But that’s just the way the world is in 2012 – gays are shit on the most, whites are sort of in the middle, and non-whites are the favorites. They rule the courts, workplaces, and residential areas in most of the country now, and that’s not going to change anytime soon whether I like it or not.

But the reason I hope Obama’s reelected has nothing to do with his color. Unlike most people, I see beyond color and into what really matters. What matters is that I not only think he turned out to be the best president ever since he got the healthcare thing to pass as well as the abolishment of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell in the military, but he’s a Democrat. I hate Republicans because they don’t believe women and gays should ever have any rights. All politicians may be high on power and greed, but I know I sure as hell don’t want a president who works for the so-called straight male only.

Again I deactivated on Twitter cuz again I just couldn’t get into that site. There’s just no point in it for me, and they won’t stop forcing promoted tweets on people’s timelines, which to me is like spam.

Been getting views from Molly’s residence nearly every day. But who is it and what do they want? Why are they showing up as being in Brownsville? There’s no doubt, though, that even though the map puts them in the middle of nowhere and right next to a reservoir, it’s from Molly’s place. She’s appeared as being in Brownsville before and I got a visit from this location when Aly said Mrs. M blasted Regina about me mentioning Molly going into a group home.

I was under the impression Molly was going to live at this group home which is just south of Austin. That means it’s probably the mother peeking in on me, but if she’s a high school teacher, what would she be doing looking in at me in the middle of the day on a Friday? Hasn’t school started yet? She looked in again a few hours later. Am I that interesting or is she really that curious as to what I may say about Molly, something I’ve been making a point of not doing? She strikes me as the same hateful, vindictive bitch as the black one in Arizona, so she’s probably looking for ways to file her precious little suit against me. rolls eyes

For the most part, my mother made me suppress my emotions as a child, and when I did make the mistake of going to her about something that angered or depressed me, it was usually just that – a mistake. She often made me feel worse than I did to begin with and ashamed or wrong for my feelings. As soon as I became an adult, however, I wasted no time catching up on venting. So that’s a big part of why I don’t hesitate to whine and complain about things that upset me. I’m naturally a blunt, outspoken kind of person who’s not afraid to risk offending or annoying people with my thoughts, beliefs and opinions, but part of why I’m so outspoken is because I was forced to hold back for so long. I don’t mean to offend or upset anyone, mind you, but no one can please everyone. There’s no way to know who may take offense to whatever. I could piss someone off just by saying that the taste of oranges sucks. But I also believe in freedom of speech and that anyone who doesn’t like what I may have to say can simply not tune into my blog. We all have a right to be who we are so long as we’re not threatening or harming anyone. I don’t read anybody’s stuff I don’t like, so why should you? I just wanted to make this clear. Yes, I know I’m a whiner, but no one’s obligated to put up with it either.

But for those of you who don’t mind, tonight’s complaint is the weather. It’s 54° right now at nearly 3am. I had to shut both windows and vents. They should be able to remain open round the clock again soon cuz it shouldn’t be getting under 60° for a while. It’s just tonight that’s particularly chilly.

Doing laundry, grocery lists and things like that now. Gave the bathroom a half-assed cleaning.

Ended up chatting with Nane yesterday and exchanging wall posts. The usual things we do on Facebook that’s really nice. We’re both into nature pics.

Later…

Just sitting here waiting for Tom to return with the weekend goodies – turtle cheesecake, crackers, etc. while I finish up the laundry.

It’s freezing in here now. It got down to 68°. If it weren’t for the fact that the temp is now coming up I’d kick on the portable and just heat up this room. In just a few hours, though, it’ll be toasty warm.

I’m slowing down the use of propane now that I know we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. I should’ve figured as much.

Wish I could motivate myself to work on some stories.

Although it’s not as much anymore since she got her promotion, I still hear from Christine at times. Not much from Maliheh lately, though. I guess she’s in Hawaii now visiting her mom.

Molly or Mommy Dearest just checked me out.

Later…

And again she checked me out.

Ah, that cheesecake and those chips and crackers were good. :)

Tom bought me a little present that was on close-out. Plum-colored crackle polish over a bright white base. That Facebook nail photo album sure is growing!