Unbelievably, I slept through a power failure. In the past, as soon as the power would fail, I’d wake up to the sound of the fan shutting down, the instant the power failed. I guess that since I’ve become much more relaxed since I don’t have the stress of next door’s old shit on me anymore, I can sleep better, but the power failure had to be only for a few seconds. If it were longer than just a few seconds, I’d wake up to the outside noise. Car doors, dogs, squeaky breaks, the mail going through the slot, anything.

I created new color themes, but I’ve got to fine-tune some of them.

Yesterday morning the freeloaders slammed doors for what seemed like forfuckingever. Looks like we’re back to the old routine - the cock’s taking the mistake for the day and the bitch is going off with Bill. Although, the cock was here longer than usual. At least for 15 minutes. Before, he’d just grab the mistake and split. Also, Bill’s car was here for quite a while, too, even after the cock left.

Later…

Tom brought home natural mineral pills called chromium picolinate. I’ve never heard of it before, but so far it’s a gift from God. I repeat, so far, since things have a way of seeming to do me good at first, then not so good after all.

As I may have mentioned, I’ve really had it with being hungry all the time. It was really taking its toll on me. Tom put the scale in the garage, which I don’t need anyway because I can tell when I lose or gain weight. I’m already gaining back the weight I’ve lost, but that’s OK. Nowadays I’m more into how I feel. Not how I look. I can be a fat person. No one’s gonna shoot me for it, and my husband will love me just the same. Anyway, the purpose of these mineral pills is to curb hunger pangs. It said that low blood sugar causes poor concentration, weakness, and food cravings. Well, I definitely was having poor concentration and food cravings. I took one yesterday with food, as they recommended. I got up at 1 AM and had a few crackers to hold me over. I had decided that I’d have a whole can of bean soup once I fully woke up. So once I did wake up, I reached for the can of soup, but then realized I wasn’t the least bit hungry. So I waited till just a little while ago, but by the time I ate half the soup, I felt stuffed! So, we’ll just have to see what happens.

I’m gonna try to keep up with the walking. It takes just over 5 minutes to play a tiles game while walking, so even if I play 5 games once an hour, it ought to do me good in keeping my stamina built up.

Later…

Just did a little singing for the second time since I’ve been up.

Ratsy really wanted out of his cage today and yesterday. He really likes coming out and being handled now a lot better than he did at first.

Blackie’s really getting healthier. When I’d pat his back, I could feel all the knobs of his spine, but now it’s covered. He’s filling out nicely.

I can’t cry over this one, but I haven’t seen White Paws in a couple of days. I wonder where the hell she could be. I never thought she’d disappear any more than I thought Mama Cat would, but we’ll see. I think she’ll show up soon enough.

Different family members are having their share of medical stuff to deal with. Mary and Evie are having gallbladder surgery, and Mary’s gonna have part of her thyroid removed. Mom’s still shaky and out of it, but there’s a new medication she’s gonna be trying that’ll hopefully help the tremors.

I don’t know if I ever mentioned Tom’s first wife Karen. They were married for two years when Tom was around 20. They were married in Bullhead City, AZ. Karen turned out to be a real nut and Tom said she wanted to divorce so she could be free to do more things alone. According to Tom, she didn’t want kids. If he did, though, then why’d he marry someone who didn’t?

Guess I’ll be chatting with Andy again sometime soon. We were talking about the scandal going down with the president the last time we spoke. I just don’t understand why the public is so shocked. They act as if they’ve never heard of such slutty behavior before. Hey, whores are a dime a dozen.

I typed up a few messages that I’ll leave, in different voices, on Michele’s machine after she leaves for work.

Later…

The blue car came and got the bitch just a few minutes ago. Bill’s car’s over there now, so I guess he’s gonna be here mistake-sitting all day.

As fate would have it, White Paws is alive and well and I just found her outside the door. This goes to prove Tom wrong, though, when he says she is too weak to hunt for herself. I hadn’t fed her in a few days, which was when I last saw her, yet she had to have eaten something since then, or else she’d be dead. She can fend for herself just fine.

God, that’s so fucking weird! It’s raining, thundering, and windy as all hell out there right now, yet the sun is shining brightly.

Later…

My period’s doing what it’s been doing for the last several months. About 4-5 days ago, I had a couple of days of spotting, but nothing since then. So, within the next few days, I’ll have a flow.

You know, I don’t really like the idea of Bill babysitting here. What’s to say that when the weather cools down that thing’s not gonna be out and about screaming its little black clown ass off? I’m sure I wouldn’t notice it for the most part, since I have the air cleaner on a lot or a fan to drown out the guard dogs, and it’s better than bass, but I still don’t like the idea of it. I’m gonna have enough screaming and ball games to listen to this winter as it is. Well, I’ll deal with next door as I see fit. Sometimes I think of propping the music room window open, both when I know they’re bopping around in their driveway, and in the middle of the night, and really letting them have it music-wise, but two things stop me from doing so. One is that I just can’t stoop myself as low as they are and provoke them for no reason like they’ve done to me. They haven’t caused any shit to deserve this in months, save for the usual door-slamming. The other reason is that I know it won’t bother them. In fact, they’d probably enjoy it.

Later…

I wish these next two days would come and go like yesterday! I’m dog-tired already, yet I have a long haul ahead of me. I want to stay up till at least 6:00.

Although the mineral pill is still keeping me from being ferociously hungry, and although I’m stuck, I am so bloated and so watery! Not even the water pill’s helping much, and I’ve got to be back to 124 pounds for sure or very close to it. I can tell you one thing for sure and that’s that I’ve got to be back in the 120s.

I’m waiting for the damn doctor’s office to call me back. Believe it or not, after a talk I had with Tom yesterday, I decided to finally go ahead and take the first steps towards getting tested, and whatever happens, happens. I'm waiting to hear if I should go directly to a GYN, or waste everyone’s time with repeated bloody PAPs at the regular office.

I still don’t want a child nor is it something I could ever handle, but I need to see instead of just suspect and believe how this whole thing will play out. Let’s see how accurate I am when I say they’ll either be able to find what’s wrong, but not be able to fix it, or they won’t be able to find what’s wrong. Let’s see how accurate I am about how uncooperative Tom will be, too. He swears he’ll support me and that he’ll “do his best.” He said to me, “Just because I may not be able to do what they suggest the instant they suggest it, doesn’t mean I’ve got some subconscious fear blocking me.” In other words, he’s already making excuses for what we both know he’s gonna do. If his not cumming isn’t in his psyche, then what else could it be? There’s no such physical problem as a guy who can get hard, but who can only cum once in a blue moon. As long as he can get hard, which is almost every time we screw, he can get off almost every time we screw, but if he doesn’t cooperate, I’m not gonna let that stop me from doing what I have to do. I want some answers if there are any for me at all and you know what else? I just may want to be fixed, if it were possible so I too, could have the choice that every woman should have. God certainly isn’t an equal-opportunity plumber, that’s for sure.

Later…

It’s almost hard to believe I’m still up. Between 10:00 and noon, I was dog-tired. Tom got in around noon, and we agreed I’d take a two-hour nap while he listened for the phone, but by then I couldn’t even nap. Well, I’d like to push it till 6:30 if I can. Then all I have to do is hope there are no storms.

I called at around 10 AM and asked the nurse to ask the doctor if she thought it best that I go directly to a GYN and explained why. I was told I’d be called back between 1:00 - 3:15. Gee, they’re really reliable, huh? Wonder if it’s a sign. Tom says if they don’t call, just make an appointment with a GYN, but I don’t know.

I walked 37 minutes today and it seemed to take no time at all. That’s because I broke it up and played 7 different tiles games once an hour. From now on, I’m going to try to walk/play at least 5 games a day, which will add up to about 30 minutes of walking. I’ll probably eat two TV dinners a day and snack on salad and popcorn in between.

Lisa called today. It was her that tried calling me a couple of days ago. She tried from school. She got suspended for being caught smoking. Back when I was in high school (the real one) they had a smoking area in an outside courtyard, but her high school doesn’t allow smoking anywhere.

Once again, I lectured her on the importance of doing well and following the rules so she can graduate and get out of there. But, as Tom says, teenagers don’t believe a thing grownups say. She’ll just have to live and learn.

She also cut herself after doing really well. I told her that we all have setbacks, but that each time she picked herself back up again, she’d stay up for longer.

Again, this cancer may not kill Bill (if it really ever existed), but he sure would literally die of relief if he knew just how lucky he is that I’m on the other side of the country. I haven’t wanted to kill anybody this bad in years! The sick fuck’s still badgering Lisa about her weight. I told her again to speak up and take a stand for herself. Let him know hey, you’re hurting me when you pick on me like that, and if you truly loved me, you’d see me for who I am and not what I look like. What? Does he think he’s Mr. Stud of the Year? Yeah, he probably does.

She says he scares her with his yelling at her but has kept his paws to himself lately. I told her not to worry about being yelled at, but that if he laid a hand on her, she should call the police.

She says he talks about me and it pisses her off. He’s been saying how weird and crazy I am, and like I told Lisa, it’s true to a degree and I’m proud of it.

You know, I just don’t get that sister of mine. According to Lisa, she’s on Lisa’s side one minute, Bill’s the next. Yeah, that’s my contradicting sister for you. But I mean, it’s like someone saying they hate chocolate, yet going out and buying a chocolate candy bar. How can any mother allow a guy like him to come within 50 yards of any of her kids? No court could stop me from putting my kids in danger like that if I had had kids. Even if Bill’s not hurting Lisa physically, he’s hurting her emotionally and he should be locked up, and if not, he should at the very least be forbidden to go near children. He should be doing jail time for all the times he’s hit and cut Lisa down, but if that can’t be, and it can’t be, then he should be ordered to stay away from her from here on out.

God, what are you doing up there? Where are you when people really need you? Some God you are. We can really count on you.

I asked Tom why he married Karen if he wanted kids and knew she didn’t. His answer was that it didn’t matter to him as much back then and that even though it matters more to him now, it’s not a life-or-death situation. He has preferences, but loves me and accepts me as I am. So, he’s saying that even though he wants a kid, he loves me enough to stay with me and not have one. Well, I know without a moment’s doubt that he’d have been a great father if we had had a kid, but I still believe that deep down, he doesn’t want a kid any more than I do, because just like me, he doesn’t want the hassles of it or his time sucked up by it. The only difference between us is that he could’ve handled it. I couldn’t have.

The Benadryl ended up putting me out from 11 PM - 2 AM. Tom thinks I'll make it to my appointment Thursday, but I don't know. It's cutting it really close. Maybe the nap will help to push my schedule around, but we'll see.

Unfuckingbelievable! I’m getting hungry again. Already?! Could there be something else going on with me that mimics hunger pangs? Why is it that some days I just cannot fill up? It seems like half the days no amount of food could satisfy me, but why? Why? Why? Why? Why must I always be fated to swap one problem for another? Can I ever be allowed by God to solve a problem and not get a new one in return for it?

Later…

I am officially off my diet now. No more going hungry all the time and eating barely 1000-1200 calories a day. I need more like 2000-3000 a day. I’m older now, so my metabolism and dietary needs have changed. I’m going to eat when I’m hungry and go back to eating what I want when I want, and I’ll let my weight go where it wants to go naturally.

I had Tom put the scale in the garage so I wouldn’t weigh myself so often. He thinks I’ll be less hungry if I don’t weigh myself so much. He thinks weighing myself a lot triggers a psychological response that enhances my hunger. He’s gonna look into simple, non-dairy diet plans, and appetite suppressants, because if there’s something that’ll allow me to continue on with eating healthy, then OK, as long as I’m not hungry all the time. If there’s something that’ll work for me without side effects, fine. That way I can eat healthily and maybe as an added bonus, I can keep my weight where it is. Remember, if I go into the 120s again, it’ll be hard to rock.

Someone tried to call collect today. The only one I can think of is Paula since Lisa’s been calling directly lately on some plan they’ve got.

I called to wish Sarah a happy birthday in the morning before everyone left. Lisa and Tammy get up at 6:00 and Becky and Sarah get up at 7:00. Tammy’s the last one to leave at 8:00.

Tammy’s fine. She’s still with Mark and happy. She, like Andy, asked if I’d talked to Mom and Dad. I gave them both the same answer - I’ll never talk to them again. It’s over. Period. Tammy hasn’t talked to them, either. We’ve both endured many years of being hurt by these people, that’s for sure.

I’ve come to conclude that these people may have never really even loved me. Just take how they’ve dealt with my sterility, for example. That alone tells me something about these people. Back when they knew I wanted a kid and couldn’t have one, they were so insensitive about it. They didn’t give a shit. They felt not one stitch of empathy for what I was going through and they even told me that they didn’t want to hear about it. No one who truly loves you and accepts you as you are treats you that way, whether they’re relatives or not. If having a kid was something that they felt I should have, then that would’ve been different. Only if it’s something they can relate to, that interests them, too, and that has something to offer them.

There’s only one real mom that I’ll always refer to as “mom” and that’s Tom’s mom. She loves me and accepts me as I am and she wants to hear about my bad times, as well as my good. She wants to hear about things that she can’t relate to and that don’t benefit her in any way, as well as just the opposite.

And speaking of that mom, Tom had to break up his sleep to take her to an appointment today that took forever. Mary couldn’t take her because she had her own appointment to go to. Tom says ma’s not doing well at all.

Here goes another fucking allergy attack. At first I was like - it fucking figures that this has to happen right before an appointment so I can’t take Benadryl, but then I said - fuck that shit. I’m taking Benadryl. I’m not gonna suffer from intermittent sneezing fits till I crash. I’m sick of this shit, you know? And once they start, they don’t stop. I have sneezing fits every half hour or so till I fall asleep. So, now I can forget about enjoying a burger and some fries in an hour when Tom gets up.

Today I didn’t just hear next door’s door-slamming spree, I saw it. I heard a door slam, then went and peeked out and saw the trunk and back doors open. I couldn’t see the front doors, though, because they were too deep into the carport.

I’d say that Bill didn’t watch the mistake today at the house. I’d say that the mistake went elsewhere for the day and that Bill brought home both mistake and bitch.

I saw both the bitch and Bill unload the car, and man is that bitch ugly! Great body, ugly face. The bitch took from the backseat what appeared to be the mistake’s shit. Bags for toys and diapers, although I think 3 years old is a little old for diapers. Isn’t it? I don’t know shit about kids, so I couldn’t tell you for sure. Then she slammed the door as if she was pissed. She’s always pissed. Always moving about in a mad, aggressive way. Then Bill, who moves awfully slow and makes me wonder how the hell he can have quick enough reflexes for driving, popped into view. In slow motion, he took a big box out of the trunk, but I couldn’t see what it was. Then the bitch came out and took a few plastic bags out of the trunk that was probably groceries. Then Bill did this. Then he was gone. What? Do they unload groceries and boxes daily? Is that what all the door slamming’s about (besides to piss me off)?

Speaking of things that piss me off - it’s coming up on 10 PM, and the fucking dogs are going off. They’ve been really, really bad the last couple of days.

Tom and I just screwed, but he was too tired to get on top. That’s OK. That happens sometimes.

I shouldn’t have bragged about how Caddy Kid hasn’t been around, because he’s back, although I don’t know for sure that it’s him. All I know is that someone banged by at 4:30 AM yesterday morning and at 11 PM last night.

Tom and I played with Ratsy on the bed a little while ago. He really likes Tom. Man, does he stink like hell, too!

Later…

Gonna cool down into the upper 90s by next weekend. Getting pretty pleasant for some ball games, huh Joely? Think you can have your gal pals and their mistakes come over and play for me? You know I can’t legally complain about that. I should be able to, though. No one should be allowed to have basketball hoops in their driveways when you’ve got a house as close as 3’ away from you.

For a minute just now, I missed my cigarettes. I miss having the vice, the act of smoking. Now, all I do is drink coffee and pop Tic-Tacs in my mouth. Although Tic-Tacs are only 1½ calories and I have about 50 of them a day, I suppose I should stop the tics. I will when I get the braces off. I’ll have them once a week or so then, then just chew gum. It’s too much of a hassle to chew gum except after eating because I have my braces waxed. So, I only chew gum when I go to take out the wax to eat or brush my teeth.

Tom left for work a couple of hours ago and good fucking riddance! It’s not that I don’t still love him and want to be with him forever, but I just get so sick of him and he tends to bore me at times. It’s nothing new, though - you can’t always communicate with the guy, he takes things the wrong way, instead of speaking up, he makes excuses, the sex has come to be totally boring and cumless for me as well, and I’m sick of having to compete with and live with that fucking TV!

He says he wants to spend time with me, but then why does he sit down in front of the TV instead? He denies this, but he watches hour after hour of TV, then complains he’s tired. Tom’s not a lazy man. He’s on his feet at work and he does a lot of errands but maybe if he walked on the treadmill himself instead of spending so much time just sitting, he’d have more energy to do more things around here. I thought computers were supposed to be his favorite thing. If that’s so, then why is he at the TV 80% of the time he’s here?

I asked him about trimming the tree out front and the hedges that he said he’d do weeks ago and what was his excuse? That he didn’t want to use electrical stuff if it was gonna rain. It was nowhere near raining today. What he really wanted to do was spend it sitting in front of the TV, but he didn’t want to say so, so he used rain as a lame excuse. To me, this is the same as lying and I don’t like it. He uses having to clear out his ma’s house as an excuse for not stopping to get a carry box for White Paws so we can take her to a shelter. But he wasn’t even doing his ma’s house this weekend. And he sure had time to pick up the new phone and mattress pad. As I told him, why not just come out and admit that he doesn’t want to get rid of that cat? He wants that cat, and he’d never admit this part, but I think he enjoys forcing it on me, too. Well, if he can say one thing and do another, so can I. I said I’d feed her. No more. If he wants her fed, he can feed her himself. I don’t make him take care of Ratsy, he doesn’t like rats, so why should I take care of his cat for him? Let him deal with her because I have my own cat I love and take care of. That we love and take care of because it’s a cat that we both want.

We both admitted we misunderstood each other about when he was to pick up orange juice and that it was OK if I took the water pill an hour before I had some orange juice, but then of course he just had to leave the bathroom sink faucet dripping which he knows I don’t like just to spite me. It’s so childish, too, but these are things I no longer confront him with because I know he’ll just deny it. That’s Tom for you - you don’t want to do something or admit to something - deny it. Just deny it. Or make excuses. Want to know what he’d say if I told him, I made comments saying he’s been cumming all along just to see if he’d be honest enough to admit that wasn’t true, but he went right along with me and that’s lying. You know what this bold, but very bad liar would say as a lying excuse? He’d tell me something like, “But you never gave me the chance.” Yes, Tom S would have the bold nerve to use such a lying, obvious, bullshit, lame excuse like that.

They say that if you can lie about one thing, you can lie about other things. I’ve never felt that there was a chance Tom would ever cheat on me. Most guys who were too afraid to get off with their wives would, but he has close to no sex drive at all, so he’s not missing anything with me. It’d be much more convenient for him to just take care of himself if he got that built up. And remember, he says he has wet dreams. It takes an awful lot to build this guy up, he can take care of himself, but what if I’m wrong? What if he’s getting it on with some young, thin, attractive thing that’s on birth control? What about Wendy (since looks really don’t matter all that much to him compared to most of us)? He’s the sanest, smartest, safest man around, but if he can lie and make excuses for the things he has, why not more things? Why not bigger things?

Well, I still doubt Tom S would cheat on me. Whores are a dime a dozen, but Tom S is one in a million. If he did take up with someone else occasionally, it’d be OK, it’s his body, so if it made him happy, OK. If he was a major slut who was stepping out on me left and right, that’d be different, but he’d have to die and come back a whole different person before he’d be that type.

I meant it when I said I was sick of the TV, too. I wake up to the TV, I eat to the TV, etc. Everything I do, I do to the sound of the TV and it gets really fucking old.

Unbelievably, I only have three more journals left to proofread.

Later…

It is so very dark outside right now. The sky’s moonless and cloudless.

The bitch is in bed next door. Gotta get up early. Tom said it was quiet today and that Bill was over there. What? Does this spoiled bitch not only have her poor dad mistake-sitting, but mistake-sitting when she goes out with her stuck-up girlfriends, too?

There are so many things my mind has accepted that are in the past. I’ve gotten over them and basically just put them in the past where they belong and gotten on with life. But it really bothers me that I can’t do that with my anger. It’s like I accept the fact that certain family members have wronged me and are not good people, but I can’t always let go of the anger that goes with all this. I’m not hurt, I’m not sorry, I’m not even regretful, I’m just angry. Not so much with family, as with other people, though. Mostly past and present neighbors.

For the first time in my 32 years, I’ve dealt with my parents and brother the proper way and the way I should’ve years ago. I spoke out and up to these people, then I let them go. So my anger’s been fused for the most part with them. It’s the people I never dealt with correctly that are pissing me off.

Take that bitch next door for example. I never should’ve let her get one word out to me. She had nothing to say to me. Nothing that could benefit the situation. I should’ve grabbed that bitch, clamped a hand to her mouth, and given her three ultimatums. To either walk away peacefully and get rid of the dog and music. Or to walk away peacefully and not get rid of the dog and music and have me get her evicted, or at least rid of the dog and music. Or to say another word and get her ass kicked by me right then and there. She was the problem. She and her boy toy. I did nothing wrong. How dare she come to this door telling me to shut up when it’s she and her associates that have disrupted my life. I don’t know why I let her scream at me. Maybe I was subconsciously afraid that if I did beat her ass she’d have someone come and shoot me and poor Tom, too. Well, lucky for her if she never comes to this door again, because she wouldn’t get a word out of that fat black mouth of hers, and you know what? There’d be no words coming out of my mouth, either. I’d just do what I had to do.

I think back to people like Mary D and ask myself why I didn’t push to fight harder. Why didn’t I try harder to fight her better? Why didn’t I set Hank’s ass straight the moment he stepped out of line on me? Why didn’t I fix his poor drunk ass? He was getting up there in age. I could’ve set him easily straight. Now because I didn’t, I’m left with the anger of what I didn’t finish and of what I didn’t do that I should’ve done. Maybe some other 21-year-old girl, who’s the naïve little sucker I was, is having to listen to his mouth. Maybe this girl wouldn’t have to put up with him if I’d dealt with him, because maybe if I had taken care of him, he’d now be too afraid to step out of line again.

I can think of a lot of people that pushed me around and it really angers me, infuriates me, to know that I never even tried to set these people straight. Yes, some of them would’ve kicked my ass and hurt me for it, but in a sense, it would’ve been worth it, because I would’ve at least tried to get them off my ass in the first place. Not all of these people could’ve hurt me if I’d nailed their asses. Most of them would’ve been no match for me and most of them would not have friends that would’ve shot me for it, either.

Barbara, at the NHA, had a lot of sick friends. Her sick friends would probably have gang-beaten me if I had done anything to Barbara, but maybe they wouldn’t have. Maybe Barbara would’ve kicked my ass if I tried to lay a hand on her, maybe not. I never even tried. I could never have known for sure what would’ve happened because I never even tried. There are some things we know in advance, then there are some things that we just can’t know for sure, till we do it.

OK, it’s just past 10:30 here, so why are the dogs barking? One of them is. Yes, one’s worse than the other. Again, how can this bitch sleep through that?! That dog is right outside her bedroom window for God’s sake! If she stuck her arm out the window, she could practically reach out and touch the fucking dog. She can sleep through this shit, though.

Andy gave me Michelle’s number and said she likes Mary and all those computer voices, so I can feel free to leave her messages with those voices. She’ll be out during regular business hours. My schedule’s a little off for that right now, but as soon as I’m up when she’s at work, I’ll leave her a few messages.

Later…

Where oh where is this ferocious appetite coming from?! I’ve been up for just six hours and since then I’ve had a TV dinner and a can of bean soup, and I’m still starving. Fuck! Is there ever an end to all this fucking hunger? I swear, it’s either be fat and full, or thin and hungry. Although technically, I’m far from thin. Maybe I should’ve just stayed on the cigarettes and not changed my eating habits. Here I am eating healthier and less than I have in a long time, and I gave up my 220-calorie granola bars, but yet I’m a blimp. If I could get my hands on an appetite suppressant that works and that wouldn’t cause me to wake up just a few hours after falling asleep, then maybe I could discipline myself and stick to this diet better, but since I’ve got this constant hunger, I can’t. There’s no in-between here and there’s no being thin and not hungry all time. Not anymore there isn’t. I need to eat at least once an hour, and I need solid foods. Not foods that are like air like popcorn and salad which don’t do shit for me and which leave me starving. I’m seriously contemplating eating when I’m hungry and letting myself get as fat as I’m going to get.

Later…

Just had a hot dog and now I’m making another TV dinner. I’m up to 118 pounds, too, but you know what? I don’t give a shit. I just don’t give a shit anymore. All this slavery over just a few pounds lost? Fuck that shit!

Shit! It’s the weekend. What else is new? At least I get more time with Tom. So, weekends are both good and bad.

Just caught Marla online and said hello. She said she’s tired, as usual, but will be in touch. The poor woman has no life between her boys and her job. Never even got the chance to tell me about jury duty.

I had Tom pick me up something new at the grocery store today. Feminine spray instead of powder. The spray is easier to use and it works really well so far at keeping me dry.

I wonder how Lisa’s doing. Hope we can chat soon. Also, hope Tammy’s not using her too much. As Lisa herself said, she doesn’t mind helping her mom out when she goes to work or to be with Mark by cleaning and babysitting, but sometimes her mom really uses her to be her housekeeper/babysitter. She used to do the same thing to me when we lived in Longmeadow. Especially with the housekeeping.

Later…

Tom picked up a few new things today. A skinny microphone on a stand that’s about 10” high in case we want to record whatever. A new mattress pad that may bunch up just as much as the other one does. And a new speakerphone with Caller ID built into it for the back room.

Soon I’m gonna get on with the last of my proofreading. I started up with that again last night and had Mary read to me.

I also condensed the backup floppy disks of my journals and a few other doc files. Instead of having, for example, a disk for all the Oswego Street journals, a disk for all the Woodside Terrace journals, a disk for all the Elm Street journals, and a disk for the Norwich journals, I put them all on one disk and now I have an “east” floppy. I pretty much cut my disks in half and have six disks now.

I think another thing I might do tonight is redo my color themes. I wasn’t happy with the way they came out the last time. Tom’s only making a screensaver and wallpaper changer. Not color theme changers, but that’s OK. I can set the themes myself and change them weekly.

Our lisping freeloader bitch that pronounces the word music as “muthic” has been a good girl today. Most of that was according to Tom since I didn’t get up till 4 PM.

I have mixed emotions about that security light being dead. Can’t believe she didn’t replace that bulb yet! It’s obnoxious as all hell when I’m trying to relax to music. I like to listen to music in the dark. It’s more relaxing that way. There’s nothing I can do about daylight, but I hated it when it’d be nice and peacefully dark at night, then that fucking thing would blare on every other 5 minutes. On the other hand, when someone would come or go at night, it’d let me see the car better since it’s activated by motion.

Been lucky in the shit department. I shit three days in a row. Lucky me.

It’s really beginning to make its transition from summer to fall here (of course our falls and springs don’t last long at all here). The pool is starting to cool down and the bees are starting to die off.

Later…

Maybe being bad once a week and having a cheeseburger and fries on Saturdays isn’t such a good idea. At the end of my day yesterday, right before I had the burger and fries, I was 115 pounds. I would’ve been 117 pounds if I hadn’t shit. Today, though, it’s not quite the end of my day, I’ve shit, and am 117 pounds. But I do deserve a break and a treat once a week, so I’ll probably keep treating myself once a week. I love how it kept me full for hours. When I’m dieting, though, right after I eat my salad, or my measly TV dinner, or toast, or popcorn, I’m still starving and if I’m satisfied, it’s only for an hour.

I had some spots earlier. What? Am I in for another early period? It isn’t due for another week.

I tested out the new phone and called Andy and oh my God! On and on and on he went. I couldn’t even get a word in edgewise, and when I could, he’d cut me off. Never was he like this back east. He was so quiet. I’d always feel like I was rambling on and on while he was quiet. He was quiet because he was uncomfortable with my rambling. Especially since my rambling back then was about what his rambling today is about. He had the same problems back then - he was broke, sexless, loveless, etc., but back then he didn’t really bitch about it and all hell would break loose if you did. Now, though, he’s more tolerant of listening to people’s troubles and he sure is a major talker. Still, I listen to Andy bitch, and as I told him, I’ll listen to him all he needs to bitch because I know what it’s like. At least he has someone to bitch to. Back when I always had something to bitch about, I didn’t have that. Not for the most part, anyway. No one wanted to hear it, or no one was there at all that I could turn to in the first place. I was on my own. All alone. My therapist was pretty much the only one who listened to me.

Anyway, I told him that now that we have Caller ID in the back room and the living room, he can just go ahead and call anytime, any day. This way, it won’t be such a hassle if I’m busy in the back room and don’t want to be bothered but can still see who it is. I also told him that the same rule would apply, though. Most of the time I’ll either be asleep or just not in the mood to talk. I’ll still chat live with him about once a week.

No blue car visiting the bitch last night.

I’m doing some laundry right now, then it’s off to shower, wash my hair, and shave.

Tom crashed a little while ago and plans to get up towards the middle of my day (I got up at 3 PM) so we can have our Friday fun.

Later…

Blue car’s visiting the bitch right now.

Boy, am I gonna have to make up for the peace I’ve had over the last several months. Not even Caddy Kid has been by in a while. I don’t have any bad vibes in particular for the winter, but I know how it works with me and with most people; we must be compensated and we must pay for life’s blessings. If there’s no trouble with music and I don’t have to have them evicted, then I expect there’ll at least be several ball games. The neighborhood kids, including the Lopez’s, will play ball regularly. I’m sure that on weekends, the bitch’s gal pals will bring their mistakes over to play for me, too. I’m sure these mistakes will want to play ball on their own, but I’m also sure that they’ll be coaxed into it, too.

Thank God this bitch can’t have a pool put in.

Speaking of our infamous bitch, it just left in the blue car, but I couldn’t see who the driver was because I didn’t want to be seen. The bitch looked right at me, too. And that’s not the first time, she seemed to be looking right at me, either. It’s more like the third or fourth. At first I said to myself, I don’t care if they see me. I have a right to look at my window at anything I want, but then I said, nah. The purpose of spying is to be undercover. Also, if they saw you, then did something to the house for it, you know you’ll go over there and beat them beyond recognition, and you don’t need to go to jail or put yourself or Tom through any stress. Remember, these people are crazy. And if I did anything to them, no matter how much they deserved it, these sick fucks could gun me down. There’d be no defending myself against bullets.

This bitch really gets around, huh? So what will its weekend company be this time around? The dark blue car? The light blue car? The white car? Oh, definitely the white car. It seems to be the most prominent visitor around lately. Will it be cool enough for the mistakes to play ball? I kind of think it could be 120º and they’d still play ball if they really wanted to.

Later…

Haven’t seen Mama Cat around in ages. I don’t miss her, either. Daddy Cat still comes around here and there. It’s getting hard to tell Blackie and daddy cat apart, but daddy cat has long fur.

Woke up at 113 pounds Wednesday, 114 pounds yesterday, and 113 pounds today. At the end of the day, I jump up as high as 117 pounds. I knew I would, though, because weighing under 115 pounds is still new and completely foreign to my body. Guess I was right when I foresaw 118 pounds becoming a thing of the past. Not that I may not get up to that a few more times before I sink even lower. And remember, Vegas is gonna set me back. If I go to Vegas at 115 pounds, I can count on coming back at 120-124 pounds. My measurements just don’t go with my weight. At 115 pounds, I have a 29” waist, yet when I was around this same weight in 1986 I had a 26” waist. You definitely don’t look the same at certain weights at different ages. If I ever got back down to 100 pounds again, I wouldn’t look like I did the last time I weighed 100 pounds. I’d be an inch or two bigger.

Later…

I was watching a case of incest on Trial Story on Court TV. There were two daughters and one stepson charging their father with raping them 20 years earlier. The father ended up convicted. It was a jury of six women, though. Had it been men, he’d have gotten off.

I could sort of relate to what the victims were saying, even though the abuse I went through was emotional and physical. You can’t ever have your childhood back and you can never forget. Two of these three victims still love their father, too. How do I feel about my folks? Nothing. Just dead nothing. No love, no like, no hate. Like these victims said - they’re a closed chapter in my life. They were people I once knew, I had many more bad times with them than good, and now they’re in my past and I’m getting on with life.

I feel bad for these people, though. Just like with me, their childhood has affected their adult life, and when it’s not, you’re so busy struggling and working hard to keep it from affecting your adult life.

I don't believe it. Bill actually got in his car, shut the door once, then left. No 15-minute door-slamming spree leading up to the big leave. Meanwhile, the cock's on the street. Just brought its bitch back, and if things go as they did the last couple of evenings, the dark blue car will be here to visit the bitch for a few hours.

Last early evening, we noticed that dark blue car parked next door as we were on our way out to pick up some videos. On our way back we went by their place and they had their front door open. God, these freeloaders really don’t mind the heat, huh? Bet they never run the AC. Bet they have the cooler on even when it’s humid out. Anyway, I thought I could make out an adult male blackie and a male child blackie of about 8 years of age sitting on a couch that faces their front door. Our front door faces the street. Theirs faces away from our house. You can’t see it from the street. It’s sideways.

The blue car’s here again tonight.

The original freeloader cock’s gray car was parked on the street earlier. Guess instead of bringing the mistake to daycare, or taking care of it all day itself, the cock now brings its bitch back at the end of the day.

You know, I’m surprised this bitch doesn’t have her own car. I mean, why not? She’s broken just about every other rule there is when it comes to welfare/subsidized.

The door slamming earlier was just like old times. I don’t know what the fuck Bill’s doing and why he has to slam a door every 5 minutes for 15 minutes upon coming and going, but it’s pissing me off. It’s really pissing me off.

Later…

Boy, this is a long visit from the blue car. I can tell when a car comes/goes from the freeloaders when listening to music at night. The headlights shine in in a way that I know is next door and not a car going down the street.

It’s taking an effort to push myself to write. I have a slight cold. It’s about the mildest cold I’ve ever had, though, and most of the time I’m not even aware of it. Tom’s going through the same thing right now. No wonder I’ve been sluggish. I had to have two meals yesterday and today to help boost my energy. I feel it in my voice too, and my voice doesn’t seem to be able to go below a middle E. My music sounds funny, too.

Unbelievably, there were no unavailable calls yesterday. There was only one today, but they hung up as soon as I picked up.

Typed up letters to Tammy and the girls. Yeah, I send them letters every now and then, since they don’t seem to want to do letters electronically.

Got 5 videos yesterday. Didn’t see that gorgeous girl there this time. Three of the movies I liked, one I didn’t, and one I discovered I’ve seen already.

Now for my best news of all. I woke up at 113 pounds!!

Later…

The wind chimes are so pretty when it’s windy.

Shortly after 9:00, the blue car left.

When I was chasing White Paws to the side of the house, I noticed something. There was a block wall in a part of the garage that Tom took down. He put the blocks at the side of the house. I noticed that about 5 of them were broken. There were broken pieces of these blocks. I wonder - could it be the freeloader’s doing? Well, if it is, more power to them. What the fuck do we care about some lousy bricks? Ain’t no loss to us.

I’m kind of tired today. I don’t think I slept quite 8 hours, but I’ll live.

When I got up at 9 AM, I found Tom asleep on the couch. I sent him into bed and on his way there, he said he left me a message explaining why he slept on the couch. He said that after my having a stressful day yesterday not knowing what to expect from next door, and since he’s really tired and will probably snore like hell, he’d give us a break while we were doing so well and sleep on the couch. That’s fine, as long as he doesn’t decide for me too much. I can decide what’d be best for me just fine. I want him to worry about himself more often.

Bill’s next door babysitting the mistake.

I made the window that this word processor is in smaller, so I can see the wallpaper changing behind it. It’s pretty cool.

I guess Tom and I are gonna go to the video store later. I don’t know for sure.

Some skanky Mexicans are doing the freeloaders’ yard and the yard across the street.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking of this fertility testing thing and all that. No, I do not want a child by any means as I used to. And it’s not so much the curiosity that’s an issue for me, either. It’s the right to choose that’s the issue. It’s kind of like the way I see abortion. First and foremost, people should be responsible and use birth control if they don’t want a kid or aren’t suitable for handling one, but since they don’t, at least a woman has a right to choose. It’s her body, her life.

I should’ve been born with just as much right as any other woman, but no, I never was born with a full bag of rights now, was I? It should’ve been up to me to say yes to a child like I would’ve been foolish enough to when I first met Tom up till about a year ago. And now it should be my right to say, nah. I don’t want a child. I like life too much and it’s something I could never handle. So, what kind of birth control should I use? The rhythm method? The rhythm method with rubbers used during mid-cycle? Rubbers all the time? Pills? IUDs? An injection?

Yes, it’s nice having a built-in, hassle-free birth control system, but still, it’s taking away my right to choose. I’ve been telling myself I don’t deserve the right to choose, because if I did, God would’ve given it to me in the first place, but that’s not true! That’s just not true! Yes, he feels I shouldn’t have the right to choose because he obviously doesn’t trust what my decision would’ve been a year ago, and yes, he’s looking out for me, but I am no less deserving than any other woman out there. I did nothing wrong to deserve to not have a right to choose just like any other woman. I do deserve to exercise my full rights as a woman. As a human being. If I had kicked some woman in the stomach and sterilized her and taken away her right to choose, then yes, I should have mine taken away too. If I had killed a child, then you bet I should be stripped of my reproduction rights, and I’d totally deserve it.

I try to tell myself, God was just doing the right thing and looking out for you by taking away your right to choose, because you know you’d have let yourself conceive if you could’ve, and therefore, you’d have gotten yourself into something you don’t have the physical or mental strength to endure, and you’d have either ended up dead or in jail for killing the poor, innocent child.

It’s not that easy, though. It’s just not that easy. Whether or not I choose to get into something I can or can’t handle should be my choice. Not God’s. It’s my problem if I bite off more than I can chew. I’m sick and tired of having God, fate, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, decide almost everything for me. Don’t I have some say in my destiny? First I couldn’t be the singer I wanted to be, then I couldn’t have the woman I wanted, then I couldn’t be a mother. Can Jodi be anything Jodi says she wants to be? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of the unplanned surprises I’ve received in my life have been wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them in for the world, but when does Jodi get to pick her destiny? See, I’m OK with not being able to move right now as much as we’d both love to. That’s because I know the choice is ours. We can choose to move, we have chosen to move, and when we can, we will move. If God fixed it so we had no choice but to stay in this house forever, then I’d be pissed. That would be wrong of him.

I guess it’s just a matter of opinion and where we each stand as individuals on different people and different situations. It’s easy to sit and listen to an infertile woman, regardless of her marital status or her financial status, that’s stable and able to handle a child, bitch about how she never got the right to choose, and that if having a kid was a mistake, it would’ve and should’ve been hers to make. But it’s not so easy to sit and listen to a 14-year-old who just had a kid say, hey! I made a mistake, but it was mine to make. That’s just not acceptable. It doesn’t cut it.

It’s not so much that I fear something up there would get me for going against its decision that I be sterile by going to a fertility clinic. It’s Tom. He’s just gonna keep on going along with my statements as to how normal our sex is, and he’s gonna both consciously and subconsciously fuck things up for me if I were to literally get off my ass and go try to seek some answers/rights. Normal? Our sex isn’t normal. It’s improved and I like it just fine the way it is, but even so, it’s not normal. We’re still managing to screw twice a week with him going inside me with no resistance, which is all good and normal, but he hasn’t cum in ages and I doubt he ever will again. Now, he’s welcome to never cum again if that’d make him happy, but that’s still not normal.

Maybe his refusal to cum wouldn’t be an issue, but I don’t know for sure. If they just started by testing me and found that the problem truly was with me, then he wouldn’t need testing, not that he would’ve gladly handed over a squirt of his cum in the first place. If they wanted to test us both at once, then I’m the only one they could test, since he wouldn’t cooperate. I asked him a long time ago and he says he would cooperate, but I’ve heard him say one thing and then do another enough times to know better.

Something tells me to keep my mouth shut, though. I don’t know why. I just know that at least for now, I must never make it known to Tom that I know he really hasn’t cum. Again, I don’t know why. It’s just instinct. I’m also curious to see how far he’ll take this lying about the cumming, too. I suppose it should worry me and make me wonder what else he could lie about, but it doesn’t. In his mind, he doesn’t need to lie about anything else, although if Kim came to visit, he’d have that jealousy all over again, and would lie and try to convince me that we ruined his life, made him oh so miserable, and nearly killed him.

The good thing about all this is, is that it’s not gonna affect my life in any bad way, hold me back, or keep me bitter forever. I’m very happy with my life despite my lack of right to choose and all that. I love my life and look forward to spending the rest of it with my husband and moving. I’ll probably never be thin again and we’ll probably never have an above-average income, but as long as we’re healthy and happy, that’s what counts. I thank God, or whatever may have had a part in the fact that I’ve never been more content with my life than I am now. I don’t miss the fits of rage that used to eat at me, nor do I miss the crying spells I went through. I hope to hell I never return to wanting a kid. That was really depressing, wanting something natural like that that I could never have.

Anyway, if I were to look at the whole thing from a rational, logical, realistic, practical point of view, I should forget about seeing any doctor about my so-called right to choose. There is no right to choose for me. I know they’d either not be able to tell me what was wrong, or that they’d tell me I was unfixable. I know I cannot be fixed. The purpose of being predestined to sterility is so you can never be fixed. The choice was taken away from me before I was even born.

Woke up at the usual 115 pounds, although Saturday’s treat and yesterday’s 400-calorie slice of pound cake, did catch up to me. I weighed 118½ pounds, but then after a water pill, I was 117 pounds, then 115 pounds when I got up. I’m gonna gain soooooo much weight in Vegas!

I finally shot some pictures of Ratsy. I hope they come out good.

From what it looks like after I just did a check, Tom hasn’t cum since around April 1st. Damn! That’s a long time. But actually, he has cum. Just not by me. Well, he knows I’m serious about not wanting a kid (along with the fears he’s always had) and won’t take any chances no matter how sure he is that I’m sterile. What a man, though! How many women could get such a wonderful man like that? One who’s willing to make such a sacrifice for her, and who could still be happy? I know he’ll never stray. He’ll always love me and me only, and if sacrificing orgasms for me is what he feels he should do, he’ll do it. He’d jump off a bridge for me, he loves me that much. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, either, if I could.

Later…

Just got done relieving myself with a nice stimulating, yet relaxing orgasm with my vibrator. Yeah, my appetite’s come back. Tom’s not the only one that’s not getting off when we screw. He just can’t be available to get me off the 2-3 times a day I need to get off, and he can’t get me off in the way that I can. I know it sounds mean, but right now, I feel as if I may never get off again with him. There’s just no thrill in it for me anymore, as much as I love him. I wonder if his not getting off goes beyond pregnancy fears. He’s said otherwise, but could he really be sick of me and not turned on by me anymore? I don’t look like I did when we first met, yet he swears to be just as attracted to me. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter because he said that sex is a mental thing for him and that he’s not turned on by what he sees with his eyes.

I dig what someone said in a movie I saw last night. They said, “Sometimes sex is better with people in your head, than with people in your bed.”

I think this is true!

I can’t believe this. How utterly great. It’s already just past 4:00 and no unavailable calls. Maybe letting them have it was the answer after all. At first, it made them all the more determined to get at me, not surprisingly, but maybe they got sick of being told off and maybe they’ll fuck off at least if only for a while.

Although my vibe isn’t that bad right now, it’s still a bit early. If the freeloaders are gonna party, it’s gonna be closer towards the middle or late afternoon.

Later…

So far so good. My guess is that no one’s home right now. If she’d been home all day, then there’d have been a million cars coming and going all day. Probably to deliver the bitch’s drugs to her. It’s still early, though, and plenty of partying time left. Last year, they didn’t start their antics till 6:30 and they didn’t quit till 9:30.

Later…

I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it! Miss Bitch was a good girl. Not a peep from over there. I was right about her being out all day. Bill brought her in around 5:00, and it’s been quiet ever since. Is it compliments of the cock being out of the picture that called for their first quiet Labor Day here? Or the city letters? Something else? Personally, I think it’s because the cock’s not around. They know they can party and annoy me in ways I couldn’t complain about. I can’t complain about ballgames and door slams.

That I know of, there’s only been music 3 different times, each for no more than a few minutes, since May 30th, and no parties since Easter.

Tom says there’s a new dumpster out back in its usual spot. That’s nice. This usual spot is just over the wall beyond the pool. Before, when it was gone, you had to walk either two houses left or right to get to a dumpster.

I love the proposal Tom made to me earlier. I don’t know if he’s serious, but we just might set up a little surveillance camera and train it on the freeloader’s driveway. He has an old black and white camera and said he can drill a little hole in the outside storage room and put it there. That’d be cool, but like I said, who knows if he’ll really do it?

Again we slept together. I think he might’ve woken me up once when I was just knocking off, but so far, it’s going great. What did wake me up was the thunder from the storm at 7:30 this morning. As Tom pointed out, it’s making its transition from monsoon storms to fall storms, which are slower-moving, and come at any time during the day/night. Why couldn’t it pour viciously from about 2 PM on Monday, till about 9 PM?! Not a chance. Not a chance.

Congrats to the bitch next door! It actually went somewhere else two days in a row. It amazingly didn’t get back till approx. 10 PM last night. Can it do it again today and tomorrow? No chance, unfortunately. Well bitch, how bad do you want to stay here?

Anyway, today’s one of those yucky, dreary, damp days where you just want to stay in bed, but it’ll dry up and the sun will be out come prime bitch time this early afternoon.

Got two questions and one favor asked by Andy this last week. I already told you that he wanted me to teach him to type, but he’s gonna use the college typewriter. A few days ago he asked me how to ask, “What is your address?” in Spanish, which I told him. This time, he wanted to know how to ask are you cut? and are you uncut? As I told him, I don’t know slang. Even if I knew the word for cut, which I didn’t off the top of my head, they still may not know what the hell he’s saying.

How can Michelle afford to be so big? This I don’t get. It takes a tremendous amount of food to blow a body up like that. On the other hand, it wouldn’t take much food for me to get big. Not that big, though. It wouldn’t even take the average daily food intake to put me between the mid-120s - 150s. And this girl is no 150-pounder. She’s more like 250 pounds. So, when she had to move out of Andy’s because she was all broke, how was she affording to feed herself so much? You have to eat huge quantities all day and night long to get that big.

Andy’s told me that Laura has her own little built-in birth control system too, and we were talking about how many people don’t feel it’ll happen to them. Yeah, I know there have been couples who tried for years to conceive and couldn’t, then one day they did, but that really does only happen to other couples in my case, and in some women’s cases, thank God.

Later…

As I knew it would, the weather’s drying up nicely and the sun’s poking through.

The first of many vehicles just made it in next door. All I heard was one car door, then I looked out and saw a white car pulling out. Is the bitch in this car? Or did the white car just come to see the bitch? If the bitch has gone out, when will it be back? How many more cars are gonna show up over there today?

Woke up at 115 pounds, but today I’m gonna take a day off from the slavery that goes into keeping my weight at 115-117 pounds to have some KFC.

Later…

Right after I said the sun was poking through, it clouded up again, rained a bit, and thundered loudly for a while again. Guess it’s been cloudy all day.

At noon Tom went to Jack-n-the-Box for us both. I decided that once a week I’d be bad, so I had a cheeseburger, a large order of fries, and a cappuccino milkshake. Here’s the shocking part - I only gained half a pound from it! A half a pound! I thought this treat would put me up to 120 pounds for sure, rather than the usual 117 pounds I seem to end up at lately.

Not too long after I ate, I crashed till 4:00. When I got up, two recliners were here. Mary and Dave brought over two recliners. One’s got a massager in it like the living room one does, the other doesn’t. The massage one’s in the bedroom, the other’s in the music room. I didn’t see Mary and Dave, though. They just dropped the chairs off out back.

Pleasantly enough, there’s been no shit from the freeloader. Tom said the bitch has got her recycle bin out in the middle of the carport. Neither of us has seen any more vehicles come or go since I said I saw that white car just before 11:00 this morning. Now hopefully she can stay out till tonight, then do it all again tomorrow, but fat chance.

Yes, very fat chance, because guess what? It’s back now. The same white car that I saw earlier is there, but I don’t have a party vibe for tonight. What do I vibe for tomorrow? It’s weird because I have both a negative vibe, but then I don’t. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens, but tonight should be clear. It’s cloudy and it’s thundering again. If they’re that determined to party, they will, and storms won’t stop them, but I think they prefer it to be hot and sunny. Anyway, I wouldn’t put it past that bitch to party tomorrow, because even though the cock’s not living there right now, she’s partied every Labor Day she’s been here, but like I said before, she didn’t have city complaints either. So, I guess if you really think about it, tomorrow could go either way.

Later…

The white car’s doing what all cars next door love to do - slamming its doors periodically but not going anywhere. When I peeked out, I saw the bitch, then I saw the animal running in circles around the driveway and screaming. That thing looks like such a freak. I mean a total clown! Its hair is done up in braids. Sort of like Bo Derek, only a pitiful version of that. I’d be so embarrassed if I were that kid.

Looks like the white car’s left now.

Well, our little freeloaders haven’t been downright naughty yet, but they’ve been annoying. And by the way, it’s our one-year anniversary since we had our little immature screaming match on my doorstep, too.

First of all, the bitch actually went somewhere else last night and today. Does she have to make such a door-slamming spectacle of it, though? Of course! The bitch got in last night at 11:30 and I saw two people head into the house for the night. Was this other person the teenage boy?

At around noon, the first of the door-slamming pals came. I guess something’s going on between her and her cronies somewhere. There were 2 or 3 cars here earlier. Can you believe that many cars came to pick up this bitch? An 8-10-year-old black boy started to play ball, but to my utter amazement, it only played for a sec. At first I thought, well, well, she does have to work Monday, so she’s having her party today. Then all the cars left.

At 1:15 I heard bass for about two minutes, and I swear! I’m gonna blast these mother-fuckers right back if this wasn’t just one of the occasional outbursts they’ve been having these days. It was a dark car that we’d never seen before. Tom thinks it was someone new in the group that came to see if she’d left yet. Well, this bitch better break the new kid on the block in on the rules around here real damn fast, or she’ll be sorry. Anyway, the dark car was only here for a couple of minutes. Tom says it’s no doubt someone new and she’s not there to know about the music. Well, this is only the third music outburst in months, I’ll admit, but it better be a very rare occurrence if they want to stay here.

It’s gonna be a door-slamming nightmare around here when they get back, and God only knows what music and ball games I’m in for. We’re talking 3-5 carloads of this bitch’s associates and their kids. If they’re coming and going like this on a Saturday, Monday’s gonna be hell. Let it be, though, because that’s all the more hell it’s gonna be for them. If they give me 10% hell, I’ll give them 100% hell back. Trust me.

The problem with these sick fucks is that they can slam doors, but not go anywhere. Can these people ever just get in a car and leave? Do they have to make such a door-slamming spectacle out of it first? Well, of course they do. Anything to be heard and noticed by me.

Later…

The 5 carloads of freeloaders haven’t returned yet. With my luck, they’ll come in while there’s still enough light out for ball games. I kind of feel them coming in at around 3:00 - 4:00.

Tom says it’s common out west for several relatives/friends to go to a house in several cars. He says out west, more people have cars because it’s spread out here. In the East, things are more centralized. I’d still like to know why it took 5 cars to come and get that bitch. Can’t just one car pull up, then can’t the bitch just open the door once, then get in, close the door, then leave?

Tom’s now at Ma’s house doing some tree trimming.

As a surprise (ma doesn’t know it yet) Johnny’s gonna be getting her one of those recliners that tilt to help people who can’t get up so easily. Guess we’re gonna be getting her old recliner. Another massage one like the one we have in the living room. I’ll throw it in the bedroom. God only knows there’s plenty of room in that big bedroom.

As for some better news, Tom came into bed after I was asleep and got up before I woke up and I never felt or heard a thing!

Later…

Wow! It’s 6:15 and the freeloaders aren’t back yet. Yeah well, stay out another hour or so, you stupid fucks, because then it’ll be rather difficult to see to shoot baskets in the dark.

Later…

Still not back yet. How shocking.

I went to bed at 115 pounds last night and woke up at 115 pounds, too. Now, I haven’t woken up at the same weight I went to bed at in ages. Yup. Something doesn’t want me under 115 pounds. Well, if this is it, and if I’m gonna bounce between 115-117 pounds for a while - fine. Although, Vegas is gonna put me back into the mid-120s. The question is, though, will it take me 8-9 months to get back to where I’m at now? What’s also helping to keep my weight between 115-117 pounds, of course, is the shitting only every other day. At least I’m regular, if not as frequently as I’d like.

Tom brought out the old, big washer and we washed the comforter. I’ll do it again around the New Year. Every 3 months I try to do it.

I’ve had fun testing out the new wallpaper changer program he wrote. So far, so good. I’ve got a mix of family pictures, journal covers, and pictures of Gloria and Norah.

Tom surprised me with yesterday’s sex. He did and he didn’t. I was surprised he let himself in there, but not surprised he didn’t cum. He seemed to be really close, though, then it seemed the room temperature went up 20º. He was sweating like hell. Unless he felt the need to act and act very well, I think he might’ve let go in cooler circumstances.

I’ve played Gloria’s new CD and have gotten to know more of it. Some songs kind of grow on me. Now there’s a total of 3 songs I like on Gloria’s new CD, but a total of 5 tracks I play. A couple of the songs have remixes of the same songs on other tracks. I like Don’t Release Me, and I Just Wanna Be Happy, but Feelin’ is my favorite. There’s a Spanish ballad I’d like to learn so I can sing it. Some of her songs aren’t great, but it’s how good they sound on my stereo! She uses state-of-the-art equipment, too, but my God! I could never imagine going back to my old stereo. I always used to say that as long as I could hear my music, and hear it loud, sound quality was not so important, but it is now.