My non-horny husband just laughed when I said I was horny and is glued to that damn TV. He’s waiting till the end of his day, as usual, so holding back is no problem.

Yesterday we screwed at the end of our day and after I came, he continued on for a short time. He said it felt really, really good going slow. Then why did he stop? Did it feel so good that he feared he would cum? Obviously. Then yesterday he goes and says he wants to win the bet. Then an hour later he said he didn’t know cuz he’d be afraid I’d whine and say how he was holding back and how he came at a safe time. He also said he was gonna try new stuff with me over the next few days, but I thought he didn’t like to plan.

I never heard of anyone who likes to tease someone sexually so much. I know guys teasing women about having kids is common. I’m sure of that as much as I’m sure of the statement that nurse made on how I’ll never have a child if I remain with him. That’s OK, though, at this point, believe me.

I’m just so sick of the TV, the computer and other stuff having to come before me unless I’m sick or in some kind of crisis.

It’s too soon to really tell yet, but I’m pretty sure that as I figured, they’ve done nothing at all about their dogs two houses down.

I’m not in a good mood now, but it’s mainly cuz I’m tired. For the second night in a row, Tom woke me up. First it was his snoring and last night it was cuz he was talking in his sleep.

Now here’s my latest new experience and here’s what I’ve decided to do about it. When I got woke up at 2 AM, I noticed a small spot when I went to check for my period. Then I got curious and decided to see what would happen if I prayed to God. I said the same thing I’ve been saying. That I knew motherhood wasn’t right for me, that I wouldn’t run away from that fact or try to fight it, and begged for my period. Then I was suddenly engulfed in a feeling of such a warm love and I could feel that God was so very proud of me and there it was!

No, they don’t give a shit about the letter I sent. I can hear them barking like hell right now.

Anyway, this experience has reinforced the fact that I must follow my head and not my heart and do the right thing, no matter how many days I spend wishing I could have a kid. Now I’m determined like never before, even though I know I’ve got nothing to worry about and that God and Tom would never ever allow me to have a child.

I’m starting to wish more that we could just go back to having our own rooms. If you’re not attracted to someone enough to cum and if you’re that afraid of having a kid, you won’t cum whether or not you’re together, a room away from the person you’re with, or a whole house away. He’s just so full of shit when he said that having us sleep in the same room would make him cum and that wearing regular clothes would make being nude more special. It’s all bullshit and I’m sick of his lies and his head games. How dare he tell me he’s gonna win our bet just to cheer me up. He just doesn’t understand me and thinks this is such a joke and that he can hurt me like this. At least if we go back to our own rooms I can always sleep.

Well, guess what? Now it’s time for me to let him down with lies. The difference is that I know when he’s lying, but since I’m now just beginning to join in on his games and lies, he’s gonna be getting psyched up for nothing just like he had me do in the beginning.

He’s not attracted to me (he says he is and tries to pretend he is) and he has this thing where he thinks I’m too thin. Well, he better get his eyes checked cuz I have plenty of a belly and my thighs are quite meaty. I’d have to lose a good 15 pounds or so before I started really looking too thin. Anyway, I said I’d get up to 105 pounds which he likes me the best at, but I’m really gonna lose about 10 pounds. Lately, I’m between 98-100 pounds, but I’m gonna get between 90-95 and give him a taste of his own medicine. I know, though, that even though he likes how I looked better at 105 that he’s full of shit and would never cum no matter what I weighed.

No problem, though. Cuz I’m gonna make sure that from now on that I help God and Tom make sure Tom never ever cums. A kid isn’t for me, whether or not I want one. There’s no way I could handle it. I know God and Tom don’t need my help, but like I said, I’m not fighting or running away from what’s right and what’s got to be anymore. It’s my turn to join in on the games, the lies and the making sure he always holds back. I’m also gonna make it a point to walk around here stark naked more and more.

Lastly, in April of ‘97, there’ll be no appointment cuz I refuse to go to a joke of an appointment. He also doesn’t realize that he’s dropping more and more subtle hints as to the truth. We were talking about pregnancy and periods earlier and he was telling me that you feel different in the beginning. I then said I was curious to look it up and see what’s so different that you’re supposed to feel. He said maybe I shouldn’t do that cuz then I imagine things. Well, I wouldn’t for starters and also, if he’s gonna “make things happen” and if he wants a kid, then why would I have to imagine and why does he have to worry about my imagining things? Well, unfortunately, the lying asshole is on vacation after today and I wish I could say we’ll have a fun relaxing time but I know better. I’ve got to make sure that I stick to the things I said I’m gonna do. No more being the nice and honest one here. I’m gonna be just like him. I’ve also got to make sure I talk about it as little as I can cuz he just can’t handle it cuz baby talk just really turns him off.

Later...

The last few subjects I could think of that I have written down in my notes are friends, enemies and those I couldn’t be with that I wanted to be with. They’re all rather connected, so I guess I’ll begin going through my life little by little from as young as I can remember and from whatever events I can remember. There’s a lot that I can remember, but there’s also a lot that I can’t remember. No one can remember everything, though.

Well, let’s just start with the fact that I wasn’t supposed to be born in the first place. That’s why my mother took DES, since back then they didn’t know the problems it causes. A part of me believes that because I wasn’t supposed to be born and my mother fighting to have me is the reason why I’ve gone through so much misery. Another part of me believes that being blessed in so many ways is also why I’ve been cursed in so many ways.

The dogs still bark on and off as usual. Not only do they probably not care if they get shot, but they’re probably figuring, well, we can’t or won’t debark them and we sure as hell would never allow them in the house, so fuck it.

My puzzle book finally came. I was wondering if they either forgot me or were trying to rip me off.

Anyway, I lived at home until I was 15. It was a nightmare. The only things I didn’t go through were sexual abuse, drugs, alcohol or poverty. I went through 80% emotional abuse and 20% physical abuse.

My parents’ full names are Dureen June O and Arthur Irving O. My siblings are Larry Ross O and Tammy Sue G. My maternal grandparents are Shirley & Jack G and my paternal grandparents are Bella & Joseph O. After Joe died, Bella remarried a guy named Herman G. My ex-aunt is June W. Mary & Ronnie G, as well as Ruth & Marty O, are my two sets of aunts and uncles. Ronnie’s my ma’s brother and Marty’s my dad’s brother. Both are aggressive assholes, according to most people’s standards which includes my own. Ronnie’s kids are Lori & Lisa and Marty’s are Polly & Philip.

My mother was very negative and didn’t want any of us kids to be “better” than her. That’d take the attention away from her and make her jealous. She’d cut me down about anything and everything. Her parents lived next door to us in the first house we were in and my mother was just like her mother. Typical case of like mother like daughter, and this is why I know I shouldn’t have a kid. My parents weren’t stupid, though, and they also did do me some good. They’ve taught me valuable things whether they were big or small. They kept me well-fed and clothed. Going to them with a problem, was almost always a whole different story. She seemed to get off by my being upset and by her cutting me down. When I was sick, though, she took really good care of me.

My brother didn’t live at home too long during my childhood since we were 12 years apart, but I liked it when he was there cuz we got along the best.

My sister was a nightmare. She was and still is in most ways, a carbon copy of our mother. Bitchy, too serious and negative. She used to cut me down to nothing too, and boss me around like there was no tomorrow since she was 8 years older.

Later...

Why is God so mean to me and why does He hate me so? It’s a hell of a coincidence that the more I try to ignore the subject and turn away from it I see and hear more about it on TV, the radio, or wherever. He made up his mind to make sure that I don’t have a kid, and I’m trying to do the right thing and get over not having a kid, yet he rubs them in my face. Today would be the perfect day for them to be out playing near the house after school. Something tells me that they’ve just got to be sent here today.

I had to wait a long time to accept that I’m not having a kid, but how long will I have to wait for my replacement? I just hope I even have a destiny. There’s got to be something else out there for me. I just hope that just cuz he won’t let me sing or be a mother doesn’t mean that he won’t let me do something else. I just wish I knew what else I could do and when?

If I had a choice to either have a kid or be repulsed by the idea all the time, I’d want to be repulsed by the idea all the time, but since I am only sometimes, I better quit dreaming and just hope and pray that there’s something else that I’m meant for and that it gets here fast enough.

I was thinking earlier of how I need a new bathing suit and right away I said to myself that I’d get a blue 1 piece. Am I ever gonna quit thinking of him and do for me? Nothing I say, do, or wear will change things.

Anyway, back to my life back in the first house where we lived till I was 12.

I didn’t do too well in school, other than science, gym, music, art, typing and lunch. I was a troublemaker till 6th grade. I’d just walk up to a kid for no reason at all and kick or punch them. I was holding in all that anger that I had for my mother, but I certainly couldn’t take my anger out on her.

I did grades 1-5 in an elementary school named Blueberry Hill. I stood back once in second grade.

For some reason when I was in first grade, there were these two girls I just had to be friends with. Christine T and Cindy F. Chris and I ended up being friends, but Cindy never liked me.

There were two teachers I had crushes on, too. I can see why I had a crush on third-grade teacher Linda M as most people liked her, but why I had a crush on fifth-grade teacher Joan B beats me. What did I see in her? Everyone hated her, too. She was easily the worst-liked teacher there.

During third and fourth grade I was in the resource room, OKA: the retard room, the dummy room, or the troublemaker room. You were put there if you were either slow or a troublemaker. I was in there cuz I was a troublemaker, even though I was pretty stupid till I was in my early 20s. I was about 7 years behind my age in looks and brains. I was always jealous of someone else due to them either being smarter, having longer hair, being skinnier or cuz they had nicer parents.

Stephanie W is another girl that stands out in my memory. She was in the fifth grade with me. She was friends with me, but she was also one of those I beat up on whenever angry.

Other than these 5 people, the only other one worth mentioning was Rose M. She was my fifth-grade teacher and she was friendly with my parents. She even spent a day or two with us during the summer at the beach.

I did 6th grade and 3 days of 7th grade at Glenbrook middle school, then transferred when we moved to the other side of Longmeadow. There are about 4 elementary schools in Longmeadow, 2 middle schools, and 1 high school.

Glenbrook sucked. You had no lockers. Just cubby holes so anyone could rip your lunch money off. There’s nothing about that school or the teachers there that stands out in my mind at all.

William’s middle school was way better. You had lockers there and I liked the teachers and some of the students there better.

Later...

I’m surprised they haven’t begun to play basketball next door. God’s probably holding them off till Tom gets home. That way I can’t go out there and say, “I appreciate your right to play, but could you please take it somewhere else? My grandmother’s real sick and she needs to sleep.”

Back to who stands out in my mind at William’s. There are two teachers. Mrs. Bogert was pretty cool. I didn’t have a crush on her, but I liked her personality. Mrs. Tricinella was one I had a crush on and again, I don’t know why. I don’t know what I saw in her and no one liked her either.

For students, there was Brenda P. She was a friend of mine, but she ended up not liking me. There was Laura C who never liked me. She had long pretty hair, but she wasn’t there for 8th grade, the last grade of middle school. I think she moved out of state.

Then there was Jessie S, Big Bird’s adopted daughter. We had met before when I was about 10 and she was about 8 at the Jewish Community Center. She was another longtime good friend of mine besides Jenny and Andy. I hope she’s doing well today. At least our friendship didn’t end on a bad note. We simply lost touch with each other. I suppose I could track her down through her mother, but there’s really not much to say to her. I could update her on my life, but that’d take forever and I’m sure she’s busy doing whatever it is she’s doing nowadays.

Later...

Thank you, God and Tom! Winning the bet is going to be no problem and Tom has made it clear, although subtly, that I will get my period next month and I strongly vibe it, too. When I was asking him about Ibuprofen being addicting or playing with my period, he said not to worry and that it’s non-addicting and that it won’t mess with my period for next month. I’ve been needing it for my tooth as well as for cramps.

Having a kid has not only become scarier but it’s gotten to be quite a turn-off in my mind in light of all that’s gone on. First I lived in the depression of knowing I couldn’t have a child and now I live in the fear of getting pregnant. Not literally, of course, cuz I know God and Tom are taking care of making sure I don’t. It’s just that even though they’ve got that covered, I still have to do the work at making sure it doesn’t happen. Even if Tom really did want a kid, we have to wait till my teeth are done being worked on whenever that’ll be and we have to wait till his father dies and that’ll probably be during the middle of the summer, I guess.

I finally got my period and I now realize more than ever how much God will love me for doing “right.” Every day I’ve been praying for my period and letting God know how much I know what a wrong thing a baby would be for me. I prayed to never have a baby and for Tom to lose the bet, even though I know I’ve got nothing to worry about.

Tom’s up now, so I’ll write later.

Another day of waking up at 98 pounds, and no period. I’ve got slight cramping and I know it’s coming and that I can’t be pregnant. I hope I get it soon, though, cuz this could mean something could be wrong and that’d be all I’d need.

Tom just got up and I’ve got nothing else to say at the moment, so I’ll return later.

Hey cool! I’m 98 pounds on the day I’m due for my period. I wish my period would hurry up and start, though, as I am soooooo bloated.

I can’t get on AOL till 7 AM ET cuz they’re updating their system.

I watched a movie, listened to music and showered, but now I’m not sure what I’ll do. Maybe type up some drafts pertaining to my life. Maybe do some artwork.

Later...

I left Andy a message to tell Michelle she can forget about calling Tom, but thanks anyway. I told them that if either of us wished to bring up the subject of adoption, we would. In truth, though, I don’t need to know what I already know.

I can’t watch Little House on the Prairie cuz the cable’s out.

Got another message from Tammy. She wanted to know about a way to contact any other people she knew. I also told her to look in AOL’s member directory and how Tom and I once looked to see how many people with my maiden and married name there were.

She also said she did pick out other names, but they were taken. Mystery was taken. That is why I’m Mysterylin.

There was a quick hello from Becky too, and she says she’ll be writing to me soon.

I hope Tammy gets a new printer too, soon.

I sent Kim a letter. She once asked me if I wanted any stationary, saying she had lots of it. I told her to go ahead and send some if she still wants to and if it’s not a hassle. As long as it’s not shaped funny, I can reset the margins to fit it.

Later...

I’ve finally had it with those two dogs two yards down and have sent them a letter. Now hopefully I’ll only have one more letter to send and that’ll be to the people who move in next door about their kids and dogs. I just hope these people don’t come to the door asking if I knew who sent it, even though I’ll say no.

I feel so bad for these dogs, too. It’s so cruel that they have to be outside 24/7.

Anyway, I wrote that I was sorry to have to write this, but I’m just a concerned neighbor with a wacky brother who’s threatened to shoot the dogs due to their barking and as sick as it is, he’s unstable enough to do it, so please try to lessen their barking. It’d be helpful and appreciated. I’d like to give my name and number but don’t want to cuz I don’t want my brother to know I wrote this.

I’m almost 100% sure, though, it’ll do no good. Anyone who doesn’t give a shit about their dogs won’t give a shit about their neighbors. In fact, they’ll probably say to themselves - fine. Shoot the dogs. We don’t give a damn. I mean, they obviously don’t give a damn to be leaving them outside like this. Then again, next door stunned me by quieting their kids down, so we’ll see. And also, their dog was out 24/7 too.

I listened to music earlier, but I haven’t done any singing yet.

Robin was here earlier for the first time in quite a while. I sensed her while I was laying down and I was like - go away! But she then proceeded on to say she was sorry for causing electrical problems, but that she still loves me and loves to see me. She promises that things will work out and that I’ll never have to be as miserable as I was back East. Well, if she’s really for real, I hope she’s right about my never having to be as miserable as I was back East!

It’s gonna be 83º here today and 86º or 88º tomorrow. Wow! We may have to get the EC ready soon. When I go out to smoke in the middle of the night, though, it’s still pretty darn chilly.

It’s amazing that this journal only took 13 days. I still have to finish typing 105 as well as the last 8 pages in here.

Yesterday I did a lot. I busted my ass with housecleaning and other stuff, so I might be kind of lazy today. Maybe I’ll try calling Kim. She mentioned bleeding from her ass (maybe hemorrhoids), but hopefully it’s no big deal and hopefully, she isn’t in the hospital.

No more being able to rank on Tammy for having a piece of shit for a computer. She got a brand new one that’s faster than ours for $1,600. She’s got CD-ROM, Windows 95, big speakers and all kinds of things. I told her that since I can’t rank on her for having a piece of shit for a computer I’ll have to double the amount of ranking I do on her cold and snowy winters and her humid summers.

Just called AOL and got two messages from Alex and one from Tammy. All she said was that she made it online and would talk to us soon. What a boring, non-original screen name she’s using.

I sent her a reply letting her know I am very happy for her and now she can enjoy all the things we do. I won’t be sending her regular mail anymore. Just to my folks, Bob, Kim, and Larry.

I don’t usually print out Alex’s messages since they’re usually short with nothing really new.

Got a letter from Kim today with letters she got from Bob. She also sent copies of her AT&T bill and her Excel bill, but I’m shitty with math, so I’m gonna let Tom check it out. She also sent a $5 bill saying some places charge $5 to switch over, some charge $3 and some charge nothing, but to keep it anyway.

Yesterday my combination of PMS and being tired didn’t have me in the best of moods. I could tell Tom was bored by my rambling on and on and he even said so, but also that it was OK to get it out of my system. Just when I had been doing so good at keeping my mouth shut!

Then he came out and told me the biggest lie to cheer me up, even though he denied it was to cheer me up. He told me that he was gonna win the bet. What a liar and how it’s all the more obvious that he loves playing with my head about this!

Yesterday I really got on my ass about smoking indoors and am now smoking outside. I hate it and it’s a pain, but it’s already begun to cut me down as far as how much I smoke is concerned.

Later...

Now I’ll get into describing places I’ve lived, but first, I got 3 free pairs of pantyhose in the mail today and a form for the Literary Book Club so I can get 6 free books in a bogus name.

After I was born in Springfield, we lived in a house there till very shortly after I was born. I was only a few weeks old, I think, when we moved into a 4-bedroom house in Longmeadow. The house, which was next door to my mother’s parents had a huge backyard. Many acres both out in the open as well as set in the woods where I had my swing set and Larry and Tammy had their private fort. The house was built right before I was born and was pretty modern and still is compared to the second house. It was on Berkeley Drive and the cellar was just about finished. It was carpeted with heated floors and even a toilet, sink and shower stall. The stairs that went down into the cellar were in the middle. To the right was one big room with a few built-in shelves. On the other side was my little playroom, the bathroom in the middle and the laundry room behind that.

The first floor circled the staircase. If you were standing in front of the stairs, the front door would be behind you. To your left would be the dining room, through there in the back would be the kitchen, and through the kitchen would be a small hallway. To the left was a bathroom with a sink and toilet and to the right was a walk-in pantry and the stairs to the cellar. Past this was a long living room that made up one whole side of the house.

Upstairs were 4 bedrooms with just a small hallway in the center and a full bath.

The attic in this house wasn’t one you could walk up into. You had to go through a hole in the ceiling and stand on beams.

There was a double-car garage at the left of the house.

Berkeley Drive was a quiet dead-end road with a circle at the end of it. There were only 7 houses on that road.

When I was 12, we moved to Birchwood Ave., also in Longmeadow. This was on the corner of a busier street with many more houses on it. This house was also a 4-bedroom and it was bigger and older, built in the late 1800s, but I liked it much better. It was kept in excellent condition and my mother had the rooms with different kinds of wallpapers and carpets as she loved to do, so most of the interior was pretty modern looking. Its front and back yards were very small, but this was to free my dad from having to do so much yard work as his heart was never the greatest. Even I’d mow the lawn from time to time. My dad used a sit-down mower at the other house.

Its cellar wasn’t as finished or as nice as the other one, but it was my private resort that I loved. My stereo and guinea pigs lived down there and that’s where I’d do my homework, too, at my desk which had drawers and a bookcase. Again, the stairs were in the middle of the cellar, and towards the right was one big side (my side) with lots of big built-in cabinets. The left side was where the washer and dryer were and there was also a small room with an old freezer in it as well as another small room with no floor in it. I used to wonder if I’d find any secret passageways.

The first floor was kind of like a U. If you enter through the back door which is in the kitchen, as with the other house, you enter a huge kitchen. This was one of my favorite kitchens and I think my mom agreed. Off of the kitchen was a bathroom with a sink and toilet and in front of that, also off the kitchen was a closet area within a small area. There was where the steps leading to the cellar were.

Through the kitchen was a dining room and through that was a good size foyer where the front door was as well as the stairs going up to the bedrooms.

Through the foyer was a huge living room that ran the length of the house. Off of the living room was a solarium.

The upstairs hallway was kind of in the shape of a staple. Once you hit the top of the stairs, there’s a bedroom on the left. If you go right, there’s a full bathroom and to the right of that is another bedroom with a porch off of that. In the middle of the hallway was a big linen closet. To the right of that were the stairs to the attic. It was a full walk-in attic that I’m sure we would’ve used as a playroom if we kids had been younger. To the right of the attic stairs was the master bedroom, then to the right of the master bedroom was the last bedroom. That was mine in the beginning and if you stood right outside the door and looked towards your left, the stairs went right down under you. Off of my room was a small cedar closet. Its door was a few inches shorter than I am.

The master bedroom was always my parent’s room. The first bedroom was my father’s mother’s, then Lisa’s bedroom (Tammy’s first kid when she was a baby). The second bedroom went from being a den to Tammy’s room, then back to a den. My room became Tammy’s room cuz after I graduated I lived in the cellar.

Although I had my share of horrible times in this house, it also gives me a warm feeling to remember it and I did have some good times there. I fell in love with this house the second I saw it.

From when I was about 5 till my late teens, my family and I always spent the summer at our beach cottage in CT. I had more shitty times there and wished we could stay home a lot. When we first got this 4-bedroom cottage, it was a dump. My folks fixed it up really nice and later knocked out some walls making it a 2-bedroom cottage. It was small and on one floor. The walk to the beach from there took only about 90 seconds.

I first went out on my own the day before I turned 20 in 1985, so it’s been just over 10 years now. I first moved to Locust Street in Springfield on the first floor into a 1-bedroom apartment. This 4-story building was built in the 50s and the apartment was nothing too bad and nothing too impressive. It was about 600 square feet and I had a roommate there for a month or two. Her name was Michelle L and she was a 17-year-old runaway that I worked at the Harley Hotel with. She said her father molested her. She turned out to be a major backstabber who took no appreciation for my rescuing her from her home situation. This was at the time I wouldn’t see my brother for 8 years as she, as well as Jenny, came between me and my brother. My brother fell in love with her and they had an affair. Michelle and Larry were becoming more of a nuisance by the minute and in order to get rid of Michelle, I knew I had to get rid of both of them. So, I kicked her out and she went to live with Larry and his family, but I don’t know for how long.

I was only in this apartment for about 5 or 6 months. I think it was the following May that I moved due to someone knocking on my window at night. If I’d had the guts I have today, I would’ve waited outside the window at night to take care of the problem. I think I did once, but no one showed up. This left me to believe it was my brother or someone he knew. I still don’t know up to this day. In the end, whoever it was did me a favor, cuz I moved around the corner in the same building on Woodside Terrace into a much bigger and nicer 1-bedroom apt. This one was about 900 square feet. It was on the fourth floor and I lived there till July 1987. I had a black girl named Barbara T live with me there for a couple of weeks who ripped me off and was a lazy bitch. She rang up $143 of long-distance phone calls while she was there, but luckily my good acting with the phone company got it wiped out. There really wasn’t any way I could’ve afforded to pay that, either. I can’t remember where I met Barbara which is weird since I have a great memory, but I think I met her along Locust St.

Then I moved to Oswego St. onto a second floor in a 1-bedroom apartment that was more modern. I even had a garbage disposal there. This apartment was about 600 square feet. My roommate at this place was Crystal C. Another lazy bitch who ripped off a few pieces of clothing from me. She was a real wimp who was under the bad influence of her no-good boyfriend. We met at Dunkin Donuts and ended up chatting when the discussion of roommates came up. After a month or so, she left out of fear of me. I don’t know why she was afraid of me when all I wanted was for her to do her share of chores.

I left there on March 17th of 1989 to move back to the same fourth-floor apartment on Woodside Terrace.

After Crystal, I wanted no more roommates, but I ended up taking in my best friend Andy who I reunited with in April of 1988 cuz he got evicted from his own apt. It was terrible, as all we did was fight and he wasn’t there more than a month or so either. We’re just too much alike to live together, but Andy’s also changed dramatically for the better since then. I think we both have.

I moved out of Springfield to South Deerfield, MA, 40 minutes away from Springfield, on April 1, 1991. This was the most beautiful 1400 square foot (the size of this house), 1-bedroom apartment I ever had, but I was terribly isolated there. This apartment had everything from a Jacuzzi in its bathtub to a dishwasher, washer and dryer in the bathroom, a garbage disposal and a trash compactor. A ceiling fan, a microwave, a burglar alarm and 3 big skylights. There was only one other apartment in this 3-story office building where friends of mine lived. We lived on the top floor.

I moved to Norwich, CT February 8, 1992, to the biggest dump I ever lived in. The Norwich Housing Authority. I lived in a rundown, filthy old 1-bedroom apartment that was about 500 square feet. It was to be a 102-day nightmare and the noise there was horrible and this place literally ran me down physically and mentally till I came to Phoenix on June 9, 1992.

The apartments in Phoenix were very modern and beautiful with dishwashers and some had a washer and dryer in the apartments, but their walls are still too thin. Just about all apartment complexes have pools and even Jacuzzis.

I spent my first 5 days here with Andy who had been here 16 months before I got to his 400-square-foot studio apartment. I ended up getting the same studio two buildings away from him on the first floor. Then, I moved right behind him into his building in an identical studio. The walls were also too thin there and I hated my neighbors. This was in the Vista Ventana apartment complex.

Then I moved about 40 minutes away to the Crystal Creek complex in April of 1993 into my first 2-bedroom apartment on the second floor that was about 1000 square feet. My husband lived next to me and that’s how we met, but I hated the people below me.

Then I moved to an identical apartment in the back of the complex to avoid the pool noise till I moved here in September 1993. This has been the longest I’ve ever lived in one place since being on my own. Then again, I spent a total of 3 years at the Woodside Terrace apartment counting both times I lived there.

I’m bored now, but earlier I typed a couple of letters and played Balistic. I need a new project. Something new and exciting that’ll take me a while to do.

Tammy left a message saying she was just calling to say hi. She would never call to just say hi, so she probably has some computer questions.

I’m getting nervous about Tom’s upcoming vacation. I’m afraid all we’ll do is fight no matter how hard we try not to.

When I look at this man there’s so much love I feel, but there’s also so much anger. I just try to remind myself that I’m sure he tried to find a way to tell me the truth, but he just doesn’t have the heart to break my heart and no one should be forced into being a father or a mother if it’s not what they want. I must continue to accept that just cuz I can’t have the things I want, doesn’t mean there’s not something else out there just as fulfilling.

We had sex yesterday which was a bore. I didn’t cum cuz I had taken care of myself earlier due to thinking he wouldn’t bring it up.

He says his favorite time for sex is in the mornings, but his actions show me he likes it at the end of his day. It’s safer that way. That way he’s more tired so he can hold back.

I know now that Tom and God are only trying to protect me. I’ve been praying steadily the prayer I wrote a few pages back. This way I can feel close to him and that he loves me cuz I’m praying for what’s correct for me.

There are two things out of the many things that Tom’s been all talk and no action that I’m truly grateful for and that’s that he doesn’t wake me up when I’m asleep for sex as he said he would. He’ll also never read my stories which saves me lots of embarrassment. I told Tom that if I die to give my original journals to Andy. Andy will read them, but Tom wouldn’t, so I guess it’d be best for those books to go to someone who’ll read them and get a big kick out of them. The only other person in this world who might want to read these would be Tammy, but I don’t think she’d have the time.

I’m gonna go leave Andy a message unless he answers.

Later...

I can’t believe it took me 30 years to learn that the word instrament is spelled instrument when it applies to a musical instrument!

Andy’s been on the phone for quite a while, but I left him a message. He’s probably talking to Quinn.

Karson hasn’t called which is fine with me. I admire her respect whereas Fran would keep calling people who didn’t want to hear from him, no matter what. I’m still amazed he doesn’t call periodically. He must’ve lost my number and forgotten my married name.

I guess now’s as good a time as any to write more about my life. I’ve thought of such subjects to get into such as places I’ve lived in, health situations and accidents I’ve been in, goals that are both current and past, friends and enemies I’ve had and people I couldn’t be with that I once wanted very much to be with.

There’s not much to say in the way of goals since these have pretty much been a joke for me. I’ve always wanted to be a singer. I didn’t start wanting to be a mom till I was about 24 and then after I left the NHA when I was 26 it went away till I met Tom. I should visit a place like the NHA daily cuz this not only may bring back bad memories, but it’ll surely help me get over never having a kid much easier.

Up till I was about 10, I used to also want to be an actress, but I haven’t wanted to be since then, even though, if a legit deal came my way, I wouldn’t necessarily turn it down.

I had thought about working with the deaf since I’m fluent in sign language, but there’s so much more needed for that than just knowing how to sign. There are extra credentials required like experience working with all different kinds of people, other degrees, etc. Nowadays, I’d just prefer to have a deaf friend to sign with for the fun of it as signing is fun.

Other than wanting to be a singer and a mom which cannot be, I just have to have confidence that I’ll find something just as fulfilling and productive. Like I said, I may wonder why God hates me at times, but I know deep down he’s just looking out for my best interest and loves me enough to protect me. Therefore, I have faith in him that he won’t just let me wander around aimlessly forever. He’ll make sure I cross paths with something. Meanwhile, I know that as long as I keep praying for him to continue protecting me from pregnancy and stuff like that, that I know would hurt me, and that I’d be lousy at, and to help me find something correct for me, I’ll be on his good side for sure.

Let’s move on to the health and accident department. Well, I’ve been lucky for the most part, but I’ve been through enough hell as well. Besides typical colds and flues, I’ve had to deal with asthma and allergies for the most part. I outgrew my asthma till a few years after I began smoking and I began smoking when I was 13. From about September 1990 to early 1993 was when I went through hell with my asthma, having attacks that nearly killed me. It was a constant living nightmare that I never thought I’d be free of. It had me in such a grip that this alone made me wish I was dead plenty of times.

When I was about 9, I had double viral pneumonia and was hospitalized for two weeks in New London, CT with it since it happened while we were at our summer home at the beach in Old Lyme, CT.

When I was around that same age, I was spending a few weeks at Jenny C’s house in Huntington, MA where I went over the handlebars of my bike and wound up with 60 stitches in 4 layers in my chin.

I also banged my pinky finger and my knee doing gymnastics. I got my pinky sprained on the vault and sideswiped my knee on the beam.

I was born with no outer ear on my left side and no canal or hearing. All I had was a tiny portion of the lobe. It took 15 operations in the 70s in Boston to build the outer ear out of plastic surgery. The first 8 operations were in-patient, and the rest were out-patient. Back then they had no CAT scans and was told I’d never hear out of that ear.

Then, in 1994 it took two operations to build an ear canal and in the second operation, the frame was taken off cuz it was causing major sensitivity. Both operations were out-patient. It’s amazing how it took 15 operations where I had to stay a few days to build the frame and it took only one to remove it in 10 minutes when I was home that same day. That ear doesn’t hear half as well as the other, but some hearing is better than none and music sounds pretty neat with headphones on.

The rest of my medical ordeals were self-inflicted. I began cutting my forearm as a sick way to release my pressures which became rather addicting at around age 8. That escalated over time but stopped when I was 17 after I jumped out of a window and broke my upper right arm. That was the most painful thing I ever experienced, aside from wild cramps due to the DES, and that deterred me from suicide attempts, even though I’ve thought about it many times.

I also began starvation diets when I was around 10 and that nearly killed me twice. It began when I was at the beach and didn’t eat or drink for 3 days. When I awoke on the third day, I couldn’t raise my head off of the pillow. If it hadn’t been for the fact that the kitchen was 3 feet away from where I’d slept, I’d have died as my mother couldn’t care less. Her attitude was, “You did it to yourself; you correct it.” It took me nearly 8 hours to muster up the strength and determination to grab a devil dog, then 10 minutes to open and eat it, then another hour or two to get up and shower.

This really messed up my stomach and I’d have diarrhea without even knowing it. It was so gross and embarrassing, but I’d be right smack in the middle of the beach when all of a sudden this brown stuff would be running down my legs. I don’t know who I was madder at. Me for doing this or at my mother for not helping me. Would she have left me to die if I could never have gotten to the cupboard for that Devil Dog? I’ll always wonder about this and it’s a scary question.

I’d have times when I’d not eat here and there, but I always made sure I had plenty of liquids. When I was 16, I became seriously anorexic. A lot of it wasn’t just that I wouldn’t eat cuz I thought I was fat, but I was going through such a hellish ordeal that I just couldn’t eat and the second foster mother I was with wouldn’t feed me that much at all.

When I was around 14, two years before what I just wrote about happened, I overdosed on pain and sleeping pills. Luckily, though, I never needed my stomach pumped.

Before I get into more detail about my life, I think I’ll describe all the places I’ve lived in and that’s omitting any foster homes or funny farms I’ve been in for now.

Tom went to bed a couple of hours ago, and he says he’s gonna get up in about 6 hours. This way he can reset his schedule and he’s already all caught up on his sleep. I wish I could do that!

I called Sandy and Jenny a few hours ago as I figured they’d more than likely be home then, rather than tomorrow morning.

I am amazed at how much Sandy loves to get my drawings. She says she and Jen really look forward to them and run to check out each other’s drawings. Cool.

Sandy and I also teased each other about the weather. It hit a high of 13º there today and they just got 6” of snow dumped on them to add to what’s already there.

Sandy also says they all laugh about the pie incident now and then.

Michelle hasn’t called Tom, so I wonder if Andy talked her out of it. If so, it’s no big deal and I told her she didn’t have to do it and that it was no biggie.

Now I’m gonna start this week’s letters. All the laundry is done, so it’s nice having that out of the way.

Last night I cried for 6 hours and was so depressed. I was trying to do anything and everything I can to shake it. I still haven’t talked to Tom about it and I won’t ever.

There’s something I’ve always realized that I realize now more so than ever before. There are two things, actually. The first thing is that I’ve come to see more and more that even if I could have the things I want, I could never handle them. I’m just not cut out for them. I can’t sing well enough and I could never be a good mother or handle that either. Also, I realize more than ever that I’ve got to start accepting what can and can’t be and stop trying to fight these fights I could never win. I’ve got to let go and just take what I can get in life and take what’s meant to be. I’m wasting my life and driving myself crazy by trying to get things that aren’t destined. I see more than ever now that it’s not that I’m a quitter or am giving up in any way, it’s that it’s hopeless. I simply am powerless to obtain the things I want in life. I really lectured myself earlier about this telling myself, “Come on now, you know that just cuz you got here and you got Tom that you still can’t have first best. You know you can’t have anything you really want that really matters to you. First best isn’t meant for you, so just accept that and move on.”

Move on to what, though? That’s the scary part. Accepting that I can’t be a singer or a mother is frustrating and depressing, but not knowing what’s meant for me for real is scary. God obviously doesn’t want me working regular jobs any more than he wants me singing or being a mom, otherwise he’d have me able to do that and keep a schedule. He didn’t make me that way or able to be a singer and a mom, so what does that leave? What’s he got planned for me? Does he even have anything planned? Do I even have a destiny? Is this really it as far as my life goes? Will I just continue to do journals, sing for fun, watch TV, do puzzles and clean the house? Is that it? Is that it aside from whatever else Tom and I do together? Is this all I’m good for and deserve?

I miss those days when I first got here when I was so happy constantly, despite my problems with neighbors and money. It’s not that I wish for that life back, but I wish I wasn’t hit as hard by things both physically and mentally. It seems that most others who find they can’t have something they really want can get over it much quicker than I do. They seem to accept it quicker and easier and they also always seem to find something fast enough to replace whatever it was that they first wanted and accept it without being so depressed about it. Maybe these people aren’t as happy as they’d like to be, but they don’t seem so miserable over not being able to get what they consider first best cuz most of us don’t get first best cuz life doesn’t work that way. I guess the only thing about it with me is that wanting to be a singer is much more of a long shot, than wanting a child. Most people can’t sing at all and don’t become singers, but most people also can have a child.

Andy was reminding me again earlier that his sister Linda and her husband tried for 8 years before they could have a kid and she experienced all the same emotions as I am. Yeah, well there’s a big difference between someone who can’t get pregnant due to a physical problem than there is with someone who can’t get pregnant due to her husband making sure she doesn’t cuz of his own individual fears as well as his fears of how much she’d suck as a mom and couldn’t handle it. Well, he’s right and I realize more and more that Tom is afraid cuz of how I’d be as a mom. He hasn’t got any faith in me than I’ve got in myself and I don’t know if all the talk he used to say about believing I’d be a good mom was always just talk or if he’s come to see and believe that through time.

There are still only two things Tom can do. The only question is when? When will he come out and tell me that he not only doesn’t want to deal with a kid but that he doesn’t have faith in me as a mom? If not that, then he’s gonna have to make sure he finds a way to beat the appointment in ‘97 and make sure it doesn’t work for him.

Yes, this type of misery is better than the old types of misery which I know sounds funny. At least I’m not in the NHA or broke or alone. Yeah, I know, though. The person I’m with is fucking me out of a dream. Believe me, I’ve asked myself how I could love him for doing this to me and why I don’t just leave, but I love him. Just like I used to ask myself how I could love my mother after all she did to me, but I guess I love her too. I also know that if it weren’t for my mother I wouldn’t be here and if it weren’t for Tom, I wouldn’t be hearing out of two ears and I wouldn’t have a lot of other things.

I wasn’t kidding when I said I wouldn’t talk to Tom about this anymore. It will never change anything and he just doesn’t get it. He’s not the one who wants a kid and to be a singer and he doesn’t want to change anything to make it so we have a kid. Nothing will change the 3 things that are keeping him from cumming. 1. His not wanting a kid to deal with. 2. His fears of my being a bad mother. 3. His enjoyment of teasing me with this subject.

Nothing will change God’s mind either and I want so much more than ever to work on not trying to solve problems that can’t be solved year after year. I have to treat unsolvable problems like hopelessly broken TVs. If it can’t be fixed, you dump it. Well, it’s my life and Tom can control my body from getting pregnant, but he can’t control me from refusing to play this game and deal with hopeless problems year after year.

For the first time in eons, I prayed to God and here’s basically what I said: I still may never know if you’re a hoax, a myth or evil and you know the reasons why I’ve been afraid to pray to you. I’ve also been confused for the longest time as to what I should pray to you for. Nonetheless, I see it’s obvious you won’t budge on the issue of a child and I know you’ll never allow me to have a child or allow Tom to allow himself to have an orgasm. I’ve come to realize that it’s not that you won’t allow me a child to punish me, but that you’re just trying to protect me. I promise not to fight you on things you won’t allow anymore if you’re really trying to protect me and all I ask is two things. Please continue to protect me from pregnancy as I see that I could never handle it or handle a child. Also, it’s very important that you help me find a supplement in life. Something I’d be satisfied with doing that’ll occupy more of my time and help me to accept not ever having a child. I’m tired of being upset over things I can’t have, so please help me to make it easier to accept the things that I can’t have and to find other things in life.

I decided it was my turn to play another game with Tom. Well, you remember our bet about 5 months ago I knew I’d win and I did win? We bet that if he came within 30 days that I’d have to go a day without smoking and that if he didn’t cum, he owed me nothing. Due to his loving to lie about it, he said he was sure he’d win the bet and that there was no doubt in his mind about it, but we both knew he wanted to lose. He didn’t seem the least bit upset about losing, either, cuz that’s how much he wanted to. I made a new bet with him. I said he could have till March 1st to cum with no excuses such as bad days where he’d need more time. If he didn’t cum, nothing would change. If he did, he doesn’t have to clean the back room (which he tried putting a guilt trip on me about earlier cuz he said he’d clean it nearly 2½ years ago) and also, I’d go a day without smoking. I told him, though, that I don’t make bets I can’t keep. He asked me, “If I clean the back room before March 1st, then win the bet, do I get to trash the back room?” I told him OK. Why does he love things so trashed and unorganized? He says he doesn’t, but his actions say differently, just like with the kid, or else he’d have cleaned it long ago. I can’t believe how stupid he thinks I am. Anyway, we both know he wants to lose this bet and that he will, so I’m far from worried about having to go a day with no cigarettes. And again, if he did cum, it’d be once and during a time when I couldn’t get pregnant and so he could get out of doing the back room and so he could see me suffer for a day without smoking.

Only two things will happen. He’ll either admit the truth about the kid or beat that 1997 appointment.

Tom’s also sick again, by the way. NOW does he believe me when I say it’s gonna be one thing after another and that he’s not the only one trying to hold us back?

The roof in the back room is leaking much more and he’s got to figure out what to do about that this weekend. I also wonder how much longer the TV will last.

I thought the hair growing out by my ear where it had been shaved looked stupid, so I trimmed the other side to make it even. It looks better this way.

Later...

Did I mention something funny I did with Sandy’s birthday letter? On Jenny’s, I drew a flamingo and on Sandy’s, I drew 3 palm trees and wrote: If you stare at these trees, will people think you’re weird? This is what she said was the case when she stared at all the palm trees in Florida.

I forgot to mention how I got the nickname Mystery. It was my stage name as a dancer. A friend’s friend had a baby named Mystery, so that’s how I got the idea.

I spoke to Andy and Michelle about Michelle calling Tom from Big Brothers & Sisters and asking what I already wrote about. Yes, she is an excellent actress and yes, she will do it. When I first told Andy about what I wanted Michelle to do to Tom and why, he was nervous at first that if Tom gave me an answer I didn’t want to hear, it’d ruin our marriage. Now, why would he think that? I explained to him, of course, that it was just my way of assuring myself whether or not I should mention adoption. Of course, the truth is to see if he says he doesn’t want a kid.

How will I react if he tells Michelle he doesn’t want a kid? Not surprised, but pissed. Also, as hard as it’ll be, I’ll have to keep my mouth shut about it, cuz then I wouldn’t be able to do something like this again if I needed or wanted to. Besides, it won’t change anything. It’ll just reaffirm what I already figured, and he’ll be all upset if I were to confront him. Not due to being tricked nearly as much as being “caught” with confessing. I think his answer might be “maybe” rather than “yes” or “no,” cuz he’ll probably not want to bother discussing it and he may not wish to answer yes or no without knowing what the point is. Of course, there’ll be no point as she’ll be hanging up in mid-sentence after his answer.

After the job is done Andy will tell me over the phone what his answer was. Not on the machine, naturally, so there’ll be no way Tom will know about this unless he reads my journals or bugs the phone and I highly doubt that.

Later...

Tom worked 4 hours, then stopped by his parents’ and now he’s working on the back room. I appreciate how aggressively he’s been working the back room, but I almost feel like he’s punishing me for it. It’s like he’s saying, “OK, if you’re gonna get on my case with the back room, I’ll do it, but I won’t be giving you sex.”

No problem getting him to go down on me, but we haven’t screwed for a good 8 days or so. It’s amazing how long he can go with no sex and how low his appetite is, but I’m sure that in the shower and when he goes to the bathroom, he gets it out of his system.

He said he saw a city van go in to clean next door when he got home yesterday. I guess the city does own the house and that they’re gonna try to sell it again. Soon the 2-4 or more kids will be there as well as the 1-2 dogs.

Can you believe I’m 98 pounds 2 days before my period? Lucky me.

Now as far as that love life that’s a joke – well – like I said before, there really wasn’t any till I met Tom. I didn’t understand my being a lesbian and that it’s a genetic thing you’re born with until I was in my early 20s. I just thought it was a phase I’d grow out of, but I was always attracted to women since I was little. They were always better looking to me, but certainly not every woman. I’m pretty picky. I always used to wish I was one of those where looks didn’t matter to me, cuz then I wouldn’t have spent so much time alone, even though that’s much safer.

Once when I was about 13, I let a boy go down on me, but I never came. Then when I was 20 and in my first apt., I let another guy go down on me and I came. I think his name was Richard. The roommate I’d had at that time liked him, but we both saw soon enough what a lying immature jerk he was.

Then I met Ron M when I was 21 and we even told my parents we were engaged. I just didn’t know how to say no to second best yet and thought I couldn’t do any better or ever get a woman. He was the first guy who could get inside me, even though it took a few months of trying and even though he was small. Ron and I were history 6 months after we met.

Then I met Al L when I was 22. This whiny little geek was the type to hate everyone and find problems with everyone. He couldn’t get it in there and he had premature ejaculation, anyhow. After two months, I was sick of him cutting me down, so he was out of the picture.

One night, also when I was 22, I guy named Mike came over and he ate me out as I jerked him off by hand. I never saw him again after this night.

Then after I moved for the 4th time when I was 24, I had oral sex with two different neighbors, Mark and Jai. The reason why it was only once is cuz that was all Mark wanted and Jai felt bad for cheating on his girlfriend.

Lastly, I had a one-nighter with Bruce, a guitarist I’d met. This was the second guy I ever had inside me, who was also conceited and negative toward me. Then there’d be no more guys till I met Tom in 1993.

It was right after my 24th birthday when I learned that I could get a woman, but not Miss Right. Miss Right was always straight, gay and taken or gay and not interested. There would be 6 women. Diana for one night, Lisa for one night, Kacey for a month, Brenda for 7 months, Ann Marie for two nights and Julia for one night. Julia was the only one I was with out here in Arizona.

I met Diana, Kacey and Lisa at a gay bar that Andy and I, who are also gay, would go to in Springfield here and there.

Diana was Puerto Rican, 5’ 4” with shoulder-length dark hair, dark eyes, and was chunky at about 140 pounds. I forgot what she did for work.

Lisa was an EMT and I remember wishing here and there that we could have more than one night. She seemed really cool and just an easygoing person in general. She was 5’ 4”, skinny with shoulder-length reddish-brown hair and brown eyes.

Kacey felt for me what I felt for Brenda. I really wanted Kacey in the beginning, but she just couldn’t get into me. Brenda wanted me really badly, but she became too persistent and had so many problems.

Kacey lived in a duplex and was the only one I’d ever had for a lover or a friend at this time that had a decent job and income. She was a chemical operator and made just over $15 an hour. She was 5’ 4” with light brown hair to her waist and she had hazel eyes. She weighed about 110.

Brenda was my neighbor and this is how we met. She was 5’ 6”, very thin, with medium-length brown hair and brown eyes. She was part Cherokee and she had distinct features and she looked Cherokee. She drove a taxi.

Brenda was a good person who wasn’t stupid, but she was a wimp. She just didn’t know how to stand up to those who pushed her around and she began doing crack. She was also smothering me.

I met Julia at the first club I danced at. She came in as a customer with a male friend of hers and she told me she was curious. A few months later, we got together. She was Mexican, 5’ 2” with hair down to the middle of her ass that was dark and so was her eyes. She was of average weight. I think she worked in an office.

Then I met Tom who was also my neighbor in April of 1993. I moved into his house the following September and we were married on June 15, 1994.

Later...

I guess Tom isn’t sick again. He just had a sore throat due to some allergy and just needs to catch up on his sleep as I did.

I asked Tom his opinion of Jenny. He thinks she tried calling when she got my letter, couldn’t reach me, then had second thoughts about it and figured it wasn’t meant to be.

Maybe, but I think she never intended to call. Lucky for me, though, in a sense. I just don’t want no shit.

Later...

I just did the same Snoopy drawing I did in the back cover of my paper journal. He asked me to do it so he could carve it.

Luckily, I’ll be asleep during most of tomorrow cuz I have a feeling the neighborhood kids just might enjoy the basketball hoop next door, even though I haven’t heard anything in days.

Tom’s working half a day tomorrow, then he’s gonna stop by his parent’s house. I wonder how his parents are enjoying their new neighbors.

Sunday and Monday are Sandy and Jennifer’s birthdays, so I’ll call them Sunday. I made cards/letters with drawings and I hope they arrive on time.

I drew a woman on her toes in ballet slippers up to below her knees in the kitchen. I got the idea from journal 41. I don’t know if I like it. I guess it’s OK, but it seems that one foot is bigger than the other, as usual. It’s hard to get two eyes just right, two eyebrows and two feet proportioned.

I’ve been thinking of an idea that I’m finally going to put into action. I’d need Andy’s roommate Michelle to do this, though, cuz Tom doesn’t know her voice and I don’t know anyone else who could do this for me. I just hope she’s as good of an actress as I hear and won’t fuck up. I was thinking of having her call and say she was from Big Brothers & Sisters and ask if he has any kids, then if he’s planning on having any and see what he says. Right after his answer, I’d want her to start to say something like, “The reason why I’m calling is-” then put her finger on the receiver as if the line got cut off by mistake. Then, she can report to me or have Andy report to me whether or not he said no to the question of if he’s planning on having any kids.

My own best friend, however, doesn’t know the truth about Tom as Kim does cuz she’s a nurse. I’m just too damn embarrassed. He thinks it’s just the DES that’s the problem, so I’ll say that the reason why I want her to do this is cuz I’m thinking about asking him about adoption, but that sometimes people may answer a stranger differently than someone they know.

He was in a good mood, as I said earlier and he said he felt relaxed and calm. Just what he needs to feel to cum, so he says. Is this why he only wanted to go down on me earlier? It’s ironic - and maybe funny - but true that there’s one day out of every month that I cannot count on us having sex and doing other stuff. That’d be the 14th day after my period started, of course.

He’ll be on vacation from the 10th-19th of this month and I jokingly said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if we made a family during your vacation?”

He said, “That wouldn’t be funny. I’d be happy.”

Yeah, right. Sure he would. Well, his vacation’s out of the question anyway as I won’t be mid-cycle till a day or two after his vacation.

When I thought back on the message that he wrote for me in the angel journal, I’d always thought there was something phony or just plain old not right with it and it was last night that the answer hit me. I guess it was the way he worded it “if you’re not a mother” and not “if we’re not parents.”

We were talking about what sex therapists do and he was telling me that they condition people like he’s conditioned himself to wake up before his alarm goes off. I then asked him how come he couldn’t condition himself to cum and he said cuz it’s harder. Oh. Then that’s not gonna help us in ‘97 for sure. What the doctors will have to do would be strictly physical (plant his sperm in me), unless he then comes out and admits to not wanting a child.

Speaking of kids, well, I do hate to listen to them, just like other people’s music, dogs and whatever noise they can give off. Once or twice in the last 5 days or so, they’ve been fucking using the basketball hoop next door. I fucking swear, if there was a way I could tear that thing down I would! Don’t fucking tell me this is gonna be a new thing with them that’s going to occur more often. And the bulk of the time the kids have made noise has ironically been mostly when Tom’s here. As if God’s really trying to tease and rub in the fact that he won’t allow me one.

I just wish I knew why God hates me so much. Take Karson, for example. You mean to tell me that God loves her so much more than me that he goes and blesses her with a child and feels that she deserves it more than I do? Does he really think I’m that undeserving and such a bad person? Obviously so. I just hope to hell Kim can get pregnant when she marries Doug. That’d really restore some of my faith in God.

Anyway, I’ve decided to write according to subjects for the most part. I told you about myself, Tom and where we live and now it’s time for me to tell you why I hated New England so much. It’s too damn cold, old, ugly and expensive. That pretty much sums it up, not to mention the many bad memories I have from back there. I always felt “out of place” since I was little and that I didn’t belong there, and I really believe that I was born in the wrong state. I always knew I was meant to live out west. I just thought back then that it’d be California. I can’t wait to visit California, though.

So, where have I traveled to? Well, I’ve been to all the New England states as well as New York, and other states below Connecticut. My parents and I drove to Texas when I was about 11 to see my sister Tammy who lived there when she was married to her first husband.

My sister Tammy who’s 38 now lives in Salem, Connecticut. My brother Larry who’s 42 lives in Feeding Hills, Massachusetts and my folks like in Palm City, Florida. I’ve been there 3 times. I don’t remember the first time, though, since I was just a baby.

Anyway, Arizona’s the furthest from MA I’ve ever been.

Rather than get into my family and places I’ve been too much now, let me continue on with the jobs I’ve had. I don’t want to jump around too much and get sidetracked too much.

After I both quit and was fired from the Harley Hotel, my parents got me on SSI and SS checks in 1986. It wasn’t much and sometimes they had to help supplement me. I only worked a couple more jobs that barely lasted a month cuz I hated it so much and found it getting harder and harder to keep a schedule.

I tried waitressing in Springfield, then I worked in the laundry dept. of a nursing home in Springfield, then down at the end of my street in Springfield in a small convenience store, then waitressing at Denny’s in Chicopee with my best friend Andy during 3rd shift.

I quit all of these jobs, but I quit the one down at the end of my street out of fear as the neighborhood was getting deadlier by the minute.

I tried housekeeping on my own and babysitting back east here and there and even when I first came out here, but that was a drag, too.

Then I met someone after I’d been here a few months in 1992 who told me she was an exotic dancer and she didn’t feel threatened or scared by her work and that I should think about doing that myself. I did think about it for a few more months and after I’d been here for 6 months, I finally got up the nerve to audition at a nearby topless joint. I auditioned with two songs and even other dancers gave me tips. I got $18 just for those two songs and was hired that night.

The good news was that my money problems were over, but I was making far less than I’d hoped to. I thought I’d have hundreds of dollars left over to just blow off in the mall and even help my sister out back east, but this wouldn’t be the case.

For 8 months I worked at 4 different clubs. I didn’t work too much through February of 1993 cuz of a cold followed by the flu. First I worked at Sha Na Na’s, then moved and worked at the Mile High club which was the deadest. So, I left there and went to work at the Candy Store, but they changed their story as to what hours I could work, so I left and went into private-room dancing at a place called Favors. I made $275 the first night, got my picture in a magazine that these places advertise in, but then left cuz I made no money for 3-4 nights in a row. The last place I danced at was the Ex-Caliber club and that was OK, but by then I had settled in here with Tom and just decided to take care of the house so we could have more time with each other as he worked days and I’d have had to work nights.