I’m still spotting and getting waterier and my tits are getting sorer as if I’m going to have a full flow right about when I’m supposed to – this weekend. But why the fuck do I have to spot for two weeks before my period? It used to be for a few days to a week, but now two weeks? Christ! Can’t I just get my period when it’s due and not have anything going on when I’m not supposed to? Better yet, can’t I just have a hysterectomy and be done with periods? I’m still curious about checking out that Estroven and I really think my hormones have been out of whack all along, but this doesn’t mean I think I’ll conceive if my hormones were balanced properly and if he miraculously lost his fear of cumming. If that’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, whether you have problems or are perfectly healthy. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain that the two-week spotting episode I had summer of ’96 had nothing to do with a miscarriage. It wouldn’t take two weeks to have a miscarriage, and here I am spotting for over a week without him cumming at all.

I haven’t seen any rodent activity out front yesterday and so far today. I wonder if that means a snake is nearby.

People’s stupidity continues to affect Tom’s and my life. Yesterday the poor guy couldn’t get home till around 7:00 because they just had to fuck up at work. And I told Tom I saw him getting more and more hours at work little by little. He said he’ll just leave earlier later in the week, cuz they still don’t want him working overtime. Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.

We’re going out tomorrow or the next day, our anniversary, but it doesn’t look like Steven and Dan will allow us to go to Red Lobster this year. That’s OK, though. I do love lobster, but I don’t need it, and I’ve had enough restaurants, as well as hotels, to last a lifetime.

Back in Phoenix I always had to wear dark sunglasses when I went out, but lately, I don’t need them as much when I go out. I think this is because spending time in such a dark dungeon like the Phoenix house was, then going out into the bright sunshine was quite a shock to my eyes. Here, though, my eyes are used to brightness because this house is so bright and open with its many windows.

I have a small nest with a little figurine of a couple of birds, plus a couple of little plastic eggs. I had it at the base of the pink floral tree, but I wedged it up in some branches and it looks really cool. At least we got something good out of Steven.

We’ve spoken to Evelyn and she is going to take the studio apartment and will be moved out of the trailer on the 17th. I’m excited for her and I hope her new place is quieter. She called again today saying she found out you have to get a form of some kind and wanted Tom’s work number so she could ask him about it. I guess she said she could pick it up if he wasn’t going to. We have to get a permit and he has to call the county and all this bullshit just for a fucking trailer. It’s bigger than we thought, though. She says it’s only 10’ wide, but it’s 50’ long. Just 16’ shorter than this monster.

I rewrote the end of Burned Soul the way he said he’d write it, which shortened the story from 105 pages to 85 pages, although I saved a copy of my version. The way I wrote the story was like this – in the prologue, Christina burns her house down by playing with matches and her mother kills herself at her folk’s house. For the main story – Anne, her younger sister Edie, and her mother Patrice (her father died of cancer) move in next to Colette and Don Oren and their twin girls Giselle and Liselle who are close to Anne’s age, plus an even younger girl Bailey, close to Edie’s age. Christina’s ghost haunts Anne and possesses her to kill. Christina kills one of the twins, then Anne goes on to kill her sister and a couple of classmates. At one point, Anne and Liselle, the twin that’s still alive, get kidnapped by some crazy murderer and he keeps them in his cellar till they break free and he gets thrown in jail for murder and kidnapping. Christina then possesses her mother to kill herself right in front of Anne and her boyfriend Tom, then Anne moves in with the Orens. Anne confesses her killings to Liselle and they clash and are forced to share a room. Then Anne kisses up to her to win her over. Anne tries to kill Bailey, whom she feels is a pest by mixing pills in a glass of water, but all it does is put her in a brief coma. That same night Kyle the killer/kidnapper breaks out of jail and kidnaps Anne again and they live in a mobile trailer till Anne’s 17 and Kyle dies of a heart attack. While Anne’s absent, Colette discovers her diary where she fesses to murder and shows it to the cops. Both the cops and she highly suspect Anne’s a murderer. Anne then returns to the Orens and is told she has to get a job and move out when she’s 18. Anne gets a job as a topless dancer, but tells the Orens she’s a cocktail waitress at a bar. She turns 18 and pushes the younger daughter down the stairs and Colette throws her out. Anne moves in with a lesbian co-worker. She goes back to the Orens to fetch her diary and unexpectedly runs into Colette, whom she kills. Anne knows she’s now wanted for murder, so she goes back to her apt. and dyes her hair and splits. She hitches a ride out of the area with a trucker who tries to kill her, but she kills him instead. In the epilogue, Anne gets a job as a live-in nanny and she writes evil thoughts in her diary about how she wishes she could replace the Mrs. of the house.

Tom’s version was to change it from where Anne was rekidnapped and have Kyle caught and it is learned that he had nothing to do with Anne’s disappearance. Meanwhile, everyone’s still certain Anne’s a killer. Anne was kidnapped by Christina and dragged next door to her old house which is still empty, but is shortly caught and put away when she goes out to scrounge for food. In the epilogue, a new family moves into Anne’s old house, and the girl, who’s Anne’s age, gets a visit from Christina.

Later...

Wow, I can actually hear a dog barking, but only when the AC’s off and only in the back of the house. I wonder if Dan took his 3 dogs with him if he’s truly gone? I doubt it. That’s so cruel; leaving dogs in a pen 24/7 with no one to give them any attention. He probably has next door feeding and watering them once a day unless he has some sort of automatic feeder.

Saw Carol in When a Stranger Calls Back and she looked great. Different than in Office Killer cuz her hair was much longer but great. It was the first serious role I’ve seen her in. Most of her roles require her to be a geek of some type, but she was all business in this movie and she spoke in a normal voice. Her voice is still rather high-pitched, though.

Instead of having my entry dates in bold print, I’m now highlighting them. Yellow, bright green, and bright blue are the best colors to use cuz the others are too dark. I’ll use a different color for each month.

Later...

For 5 days now, going on 6, I have faithfully stuck to my diet. I woke up at 121 again, I’m not stuck, and I swear I’ve gained 2 or 3 pounds since being up. I haven’t weighed myself again, though, cuz I don’t need to. I know when I gain weight. I can tell. Is it truly weight I’ve gained? Is it water? It must be because I just don’t see how I could gain weight on the calories I’ve been having.

I just can’t fucking lose weight no matter what and even if I could, I couldn’t keep it off. What would it take? Cutting my calories to 500 a day every day for the rest of my life?

I saw a commercial for a thing called Estroven that’s supposed to naturally balance your hormones prior to menopause. I wonder if I’ve had a hormone imbalance all my life and if that’s why my periods are so erratic. I wonder if this stuff will regulate my periods so I get a period for a few days every 4 weeks, rather than for over a week every 2 or 3 weeks. I’ve been rotating between spotting and lightly flowing for 8 or 9 days now.

Tom finished proofreading my story and he loaded it on my computer in a new file. He highlighted typos and sentences he thought were worded funny or that didn’t make sense. I corrected all but two of the typos, unsure of why he highlighted them in the first place, so I’ll have to ask him about it.

Not much to update on. I’ve been in a lazy mood today, not wanting to do much of anything. I’ve been rowing away a lot of my boredom.

Tom hasn’t hit me for sex and I’m certainly not about to bring it up. I’m not in the mood to deal with that.

Because I was stuck yesterday, it set me back to 121 pounds. This is the fifth day in a row I’ve miraculously had only 1000 calories, not counting coffee, although yesterday I had an extra potato so I could shit today. I’ll end up having a little less than 1000 in food today, so hopefully I’ll be back just under 120 tomorrow.

My period finally ended after a whole week, if that’s what it was. I spotted for about 6 days, then I had a light flow, and now I’ve completely dried up. I’d love to have something go wrong that’d cause me to need a hysterectomy. I don’t need my uterus and am more than willing to give up periods altogether. It’s just that I wish that if that’s where I’m heading, it would just happen and not be a long drawn-out ordeal. I don’t need the long build-up.

Tom and I both saw Carol in Office Killer. It was so nice to see it again. It’ll also be nice to check out the other movie she’s in tomorrow.

Later...

Just when I thought Tom wasn’t going to bring up sex, he did. Well, it is Sunday, and it is late in his day. The surprising part of it, though, is his wanting to get together at 4:00 before we do a computer project we’re gonna do, rather than at 7:00 or so after we’re done. As usual, though, he’s got to take a shower first. I know good and well what he’s doing in the shower too, besides washing himself and shampooing his hair, but what can you do? If this is the way he wants it - so be it. I’m not exactly looking forward to getting together, cuz I know it’s gonna hurt like hell and I know exactly what’s going to happen.

Later...

After warming him up, we screwed. And it wasn’t painful like I thought it would be. He said I did an excellent job of warming him up (I did try harder to use more variety). There was blood on the sheets when we were through, but it must be leftover from my period cuz like I said, there was no pain. So, how do I feel about the fact that I let us get together? Mixed emotions. I wish I had the strength to say no to him for the rest of my life and ignore his feelings, but he doesn’t feel the guilt I feel. I tell myself he won’t miss a thing, but I still feel guilty. He may not want to do anything to please me in bed, but I can’t help but want to please him.

Later...

Here I am ragging again. What the fuck is going on? God, please please please let me need a hysterectomy! I’m sick of periods, erratic or not, you don’t want me having kids, I don’t want them, so why not? I’m the perfect candidate. But that makes me not a perfect candidate in his eyes. If I wanted a kid and if there was hope for me to conceive and if my husband came, then I’d be more qualified for the hysterectomy. I’m still surprised, though, knowing I was never meant to have kids, that he hasn’t had me have to have one. I’m sure he didn’t so he could tease me with it like he allowed it to be the case in the mid-90s. It couldn’t have been an issue between Tom and me, eating me up for years if he had had me have one, although I always knew deep down that fate is fate with or without a uterus.

In case I forgot to mention this before, I decided not to send Andy’s parents a letter in “his handwriting.” I don’t want to fuck him over in any way, I just don’t want him to be in my life. He’ll always be in my heart and my memory, but I don’t want him on my phone or in other places too close for comfort.

Another weekend of waking up free of freeloaders. And this is the time of year when the Mexicans hang outside till dawn. Hope the H’s are sound sleepers, but either way, they’re their problem now, not ours. The weekends go by fast when you’re not counting them down.

It seems Dan may have finally left, but I’m not sure. He definitely doesn’t like the heat and he confined most of his engine-gunning and music to the winter. The music part of it makes sense, cuz that’s when you can comfortably open your windows to let the sound out, and you figure others are going to have their windows open too, to receive the sound.

Today Tom’s out clearing brush for where the trailer’s going to go, but he probably won’t be able to go online to find someone to haul it till tomorrow, cuz the stupid phone company cut wires in this area and our phone’s dead. It’s a good thing we have the cell phone.

This is the fourth day in a row I’ve woken up with congestion, but there is a good side to it – I’m not as tight come the end of my day.

I made a deal with Tom, although I know he’ll break his promise to me like he usually does, and that he’s doing nothing but making lame excuses. He says he’s going to dust and vacuum his office weekly so he can leave things out, which really means so he can trash it by having it full of clutter. He said he’ll keep the door shut, too. He claims that’s the only way he can find things and keep track of his stuff, but he couldn’t find things in Phoenix where he trashed things either. I know you won’t stick to dusting and vacuuming your office, I told him, and as soon as my allergies get worse, I’m gonna go in there and box up all your clutter and take care of things myself. Then you can really bitch about not finding things. I’m just sick of this guy not keeping his word! He promised me that once we moved and he had a room to himself that keeping his shit neat, organized and uncluttered would be no problem.

I also woke up at 119½ pounds! But it totally, totally fucking figures that I can’t shit. Whenever I drop to a weight my body is not used to weighing, I stop shitting till my body adjusts to its new weight.

Later...

It’s looking more like Dan has left, but if he does decide to stay here year-round, he’s OK in the summer. As long as it’s hot he’s not a source of noise. It’s been very quiet around here. No bangers or music of any kind. All we’ve heard are the sounds we make. It’s been the way it should be. Especially for being in a rural area.

I’m so confused still. Torn between having sex and just letting myself be Tom’s submissive and letting him control the sex, and saying no, not till you do it my way at least some of the time.

Like I said, the issue’s no longer a case of me having to have a child. The issue is – how can he be so damn contradicting and how can he lie like he has? What man that says he wants a kid and that’s like he is (unless he wants to be like he is) doesn’t do anything to get help and see if he has a shot at a kid naturally, even if the odds are a million to one? What? Would he prefer the invitro over the natural way if he had the choice? How can he have sat back and watched this issue eat at me year after year and not do anything to help/change things? I’m still glad we never had a kid up till now, but I know that if I were him back in the mid-90s and I said I wanted a kid and I saw how my wife was torn up over not being able to have one, I’d want to do everything I could to help change things.

Unless I didn’t want a kid.

And unless I didn’t want my wife to have a kid, either.

Earlier he gave me a series of lame, senseless excuses like he’s done ever since I’ve known him. He said something about how he’s doing all he can and how his understanding of how I feel that and about my family and the people in Phoenix, and us moving here is connected to changing how he is, etc., but that’s all fucking bullshit. What the fuck does my family and old neighbors have to do with his not cumming and being so controlling in bed? Except for any mail I’ve sent these people or plan on sending, these people are a thing of my past.

He’ll never change. Never. Because he doesn’t want to.

Been here for 8 years! Right this moment 8 years ago, I was either in Greenfield talking to Sheila, or at Boo and Max’s in Longmeadow. I know I took a nap for an hour or two at their house before leaving for the airport. My plane took off at 4:30 ET. I landed at 7:30 AZ time and 10:30 ET time.

For the third time, I’ve decided to change the title of my current story. First I started off with A Matter of Priority, then it became He’d Stop at Nothing, and now I want to make it He’ll Stop at Nothing. I think it sounds better.

Later...

I finally spoke to Lisa. It was a spontaneous decision to call. I looked at the clock, and knowing school was out and that Tammy would probably be at Mark’s store, I called. Sure enough, Lisa answered. I reminded her that my silent treatment had nothing to do with her and that I still loved her very much and missed her tremendously. I also told her we moved, were happy, and that I didn’t want to give our address or number, not because I didn’t trust her, but because she could slip. Even the smartest, most trustworthy people can slip, and I don’t want the information to end up in the wrong hands, even the worst that could come of it would be unwanted mail, or more likely, unwanted phone calls that would never get answered, thanks to caller ID. Speaking of caller ID, Tammy’s got it. She never had that as long as I knew her, and I’ll bet you anything that she got it around the time we moved to see if she could get our number if I called. I hope to hell I remembered to block any calls I’ve made to her, as well as to Larry and Sandy’s parents. I did get a private hang-up after calling Sandy’s folks, but that could’ve been anyone and my guess is that Tammy doesn’t have the number, or else she’d have called by now. At least I blocked it out this time for sure.

Anyway, like I’ve told Lisa before, my not contacting them has nothing to do with her. I just got fed up, especially with Doe, Art and Larry, etc. She claims she hasn’t talked to Larry in over a year and I do believe her this time because by now Larry would be fed up with dealing with her. Especially when he realized he couldn’t spite Tammy and replace Larry by getting custody of her. And because of the close connection to Tammy. Her being Tammy’s daughter would be enough to drive him away. Lastly, I’d hope that Lisa would’ve learned her lesson about people like Larry by now. Again I told her that she has to do what she has to do, but if she knows what’s good for her, she won’t contact Larry ever again. She said she still keeps up with her singing, but that I have no idea what her life has been like, in a not-so-thrilled tone of voice. I let her know that I’m sure I did have an idea of what her life’s been like. I asked her if she was still smoking and she said yes and that at least she was being honest. I appreciate that, I told her. I’d rather her tell me something I didn’t want to hear that was true than a nice-sounding lie.

I wasn’t surprised to learn that Tammy is going to marry Mark and that they’re moving in with him. Then she’s gonna sell the house. She finally gets to move after 15 years of being cramped in that tiny house. I knew it’d come down to this too, and I’ve noticed a pattern; relatives and friends always seem to move around the same time. Within a year of each other. At least she didn’t marry Mark just 5 minutes after meeting him unlike with the others. Maybe she has broken the abusive-men cycle she was on. And maybe she can and will defend herself and put her foot down in the future if need be, but hopefully there won’t be a need to.

I signed off by letting Lisa know I loved her and might contact her every 6 months to a year and that it’d be best if we didn’t contact each other regularly. She gave me Mark’s number and advised me of his Caller ID. I’m still perfectly OK with never seeing Doe, Art, Tammy or Larry again because they are that detrimental to my emotional state and to my overall sanity, but I sure do miss Lisa!

Later...

Got quite a surprise from Ma. I had asked if she had any doll patterns, never expecting to get that, and a couple of dolls, too! One’s a Barbie-type doll, although it’s not Barbie. The other’s a small, cheap 7½” doll. I can tell these dolls are quite old, too. From the 60s or 70s. The Barbie and Barbie-type dolls of today tend to have hair past their asses. In the 60s and 70s, they tended to have short hair or hair no longer than the waist. This doll has short red hair, including a bald spot I covered using an old ribbon as a headband. The other doll has curly brown hair to the middle of its back. Anyway, we’ve got a pattern for a few different outfits, including one to make a teddy bear with. Got a seam-ripper too, which I’ve been wanting. I lost mine years ago. Tom’s gonna do the math to improvise anything we make for the porcelain dolls cuz the patterns are for dolls smaller than they are. It looks like I got blue and gold lace and a few pieces of material. A little scrap of blue vines on a white background. A solid melon-colored piece. And a pink piece with white flecks. For now, I’ve got the Barbie-size doll in one of the spare Barbie dresses, and the little one’s naked cuz I don’t have anything that fits her any more than I’ve got anything that fits my 17” plastic doll.

Ma also gave us an anniversary card and a check for the usual $25, but Tom says we’re still on for the printer.

Tom said they were doing some construction here in town which held him up a bit (he called from the cell phone) and I was like – Here? Here in Maricopa, we’ve got construction holding us up?

I awoke to an overcast day. It’s nice to have for a change. The sun’s been popping in and out of the clouds all day. Rare weather for Arizona and common for New England.

I unpacked the dolls that I had stuffed in boxes in my closet and set them up again because I know it’s just a matter of time before I have another allergy attack for no apparent reason at all.

I’m proud of myself for having only 1000 calories yesterday. It may have been a little more counting the coffee I had. I wish I had the willpower to do this every day. If I could be consistent, I could probably get down to 110-115 pounds. I was 122 yesterday and today I woke up at 120½. I still can’t imagine ever dropping below 120.

Later...

Larry’s sick uncle is another one on my mailing list to receive a letter, but I had to address it to G Exterminating, cuz the fucker’s not listed. That’s because I called him enough times to cause him to get an unlisted number back in the mid-80s or so. So now there are 4 associates of Larry’s that’ll be hearing from me. Sandy’s parents, Sandy’s brother (I think he’s her brother), Jenny C and Ronnie G.

I made the mistake of letting Houdini run around free for an hour last night. At the end of the hour, which was all I’d allow him to stay out, he made me chase him all over the master suite! I finally trapped him in the shower stall and trickled some cold water on him. Naturally, he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of taking a shower. He was too fast for me. I knew he’d just run by me if I opened the shower door. So I opened it a crack and put a tube up to the crack and trapped him in the tube and brought him home in that.

I worked some more on my He’d Stop at Nothing stalker story last night. It’s off to a good start.

This is the second month in a row I’ve had mid-cycle spotting, but it’s better than the pain in my side I sometimes get. And when I say mid-cycle, I mean close enough to it, if not right on the nose. I heard you can bleed when you ovulate, but this is a bit much for that, so who knows why my periods have gotten so erratic and why I have spotting at weird times? My guess is that it has to do with a hormone imbalance which probably accounts for why I could never conceive, on top of my husband’s dry, limp dick.

I’ve completely ditched him sexually. I’m so fed up. If he wanted to drive me away sexually, he finally succeeded, for I cannot take one more year of the same old fucking bullshit. It’s boring, it’s old, it’s predictable, and I’m sick of being controlled and lied to. He’s totally killed all my interest in sex. The only way to eliminate 95% of our fights is to drop the sex and forget about invitro. Even if I wanted a kid as bad as I used to – he wouldn’t allow it. He’d interfere with my conceiving, and if he didn’t, God would make sure I miscarried. I’m done for sex and any talk of invitro.

He made a grid to make adobe bricks like the Indians did. He wants to make a garden with a wall that’ll keep animals out, so he’s making bricks out of mud. I’m amazed at how hard they dry up to be.

Later...

Tom called from work and I bitched him out for not straightening up his office so I can dust it easier. He’s so stuck on having things his way and trashing that fucking office of his. Again he said he forgot, was sorry, and made some lame excuse about having things on his mind. Yeah, it’s the same bullshit week after week, as usual, so who cares?

He also told me that because the machine ate up the ATM card, he would have to go to a branch to see if the stock money came in, but he didn’t want to take the time to do that, so he was going to go borrow the money from ma till he could get our money. But that will take even longer. It’ll take even longer to drive to his mother for money than to drive to a bank and wait in line. I’ll ask him more about it later.

It turns out I was very wrong about my suspecting that the teacher I had in 5th grade was dead. I called her son’s place after looking up the number on the net and she’s not only very much alive, but she’s still teaching in Longmeadow! I didn’t talk to her son, though. I spoke to some old lady and told her I was in Arizona and was once a student of hers and wanted to surprise her with a letter. Oh, yes, I do intend to send a letter too, letting her know that she, along with the other teachers, should be ashamed of themselves for looking the other way. These people had to know I was being abused. No child acts out like I did without a reason, and they did nothing to help me. I threw in a fib too, saying I dated her son, who’s the same age as I am, in the late 80s. That oughta surprise and confuse her and her son. I can picture her son being like – What? I never dated any such person!

Anyway, I’m surprised she’s still teaching. I would’ve thought she’d either be dead or retired, but she’s only 62. I guess that a person in their late 30s seems much older to a 10-year-old.

Later...

They were right when they said that doing the inner thigh exercises wouldn’t make them smaller. All it did was make them firmer. All any of these exercises do is firm things up. They do not change size/appearance. In order to do that, you have to lose weight, and that’s just not something I can do, so I have to settle for feeling firmer and that’s it.

Later...

Tom’s home now. It seems I misunderstood him. He said that instead of going to the bank he decided to go see his mother at the center she’s at during the week, not that he was going to see her to save time. He said his ma was psyched to see him and that she’s being well cared for at the center. That’s a relief to hear.

It seems one of the jokes that I wrote in my last letter to her was a bad idea. She’s too out of it, I guess, to have realized I was joking, and I even said so too, but I guess I should’ve known better. It seems I’m always saying something wrong, although Tom says it’s no big deal. In my last paragraph, I jokingly said that we were outside when I spotted a snake and snuck up behind Tom with it and wrapped it around his neck. Then I signed off by saying – P.S. Just kidding about the snake. Anyway, from what Tom told me, she was asking him – Did she really pick up a snake?

My vibes about the teacher being dead may have been way off, but my July vibe on the trailer looks like it’s going to be right. Evelyn called saying she has an appointment Monday to check out an apartment and that if she likes it, she can move in on the 15th. Meanwhile, she wanted to know how Tom wants to do the title. I guess all she needs to do is sign it over to us so it’s in our name, then we’ll probably have to get it notarized. I’m just as happy for her as I am for us. She’s in Mexican hell where she is in this dumpy old trailer park. When she described the car stereos, the Mexican bands, the drugs, I was thinking – are you sure you don’t live on our old street?

Oh, I can’t believe how stupid I am! How utterly fucking stupid of me! I put the rats in with the large group of mice in the big tank while I was doing their cage and Houdini viciously attacked and killed Toughie. He went for the throat and she was dead in seconds. This was no pin-the-opponent play game, either. This was a vicious attack meant to kill. Fortunately, the other mice stayed safe within the tubes. I’ve done this a few times before and there were no problems so I didn’t expect there would be this time. Still, how dumb of me to take chances like this! It’s my fault as much as Houdini’s, and despite what he’s done, I still love the murderous bastard.

I sort of fibbed to Tom when I called him at work about it and told him that the rats were in a tank right next to theirs and that Houdini jumped into their tank. I’m OK with lying to him every now and then about things like this and like the basketball hoop I had removed, and the breakfast I walked out without paying for. After all, he’s lied to me about much more serious things than that. So, unless he reads my journals, he’ll never know the full truth.

Later...

And another Mexican called! That’s the fifth Mexican to call this number in the last month or so. What is it with all these Mexicans calling us anyway? This one didn’t have the guts to talk when it left a message. All I heard was its TV. I asked Tom if there were ever more whites than Mexicans in Arizona and he swears there are more whites right now. He says it’s Mexican culture to hang outdoors and white culture to hang out in their houses, so that’s why I see more Mexicans when we go out. Yeah, that makes sense. Just like with the blacks, those Mexies always did have to be outside where they could be noticed. Always got to make a scene and get attention. I just dread the day when some Mexican moves in behind us with her 5 boyfriends, 10 children, 15 uncles and aunts, 20 cousins, and 30 “friends.” Where there’s one Mexican, there are 50. They’re like ants. One big trail of ants. It’s no wonder they huddle in groups, though. They know just how much whites are fed up with them and how much they hate them that they probably feel safer in groups, the insecure mother-fuckers.

Later...

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!! Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee!!! I saw part of a soccer game Tom was watching live in Foxborough, MA, and damn is it raining like hell there like it does nearly every day between April and September! What’s even funnier is that it was 48° in Springfield the last time I checked, which means they’ll be in the 30s by early morning!! Oh, yuck!! Thank God I still don’t live there!!!!! Imagine it being that cold in June!? Ugh! Tammy’s got it a little better than Springfield. It’s up to 55° where she is. Ha, ha! Meanwhile, we’re in the middle of a drought and I’m sweating my ass off in the 110° we’ve got. Their highs are lower than our lows.

We were out earlier washing the car, which was caked with dirt and bird shit. It was so hot out there, I should’ve had my suit on and should’ve hosed myself off. The water from the hose, which I sprayed my arms and legs with, felt great.

Mary called needing Tom to take mom to have her toenails clipped and an x-ray done this Friday, cuz Mary has to go to an appointment herself this Friday.

My hair has already started to grow back. It became quite noticeable a few days ago but is still way short compared to what I usually have. It’s barely to the middle of my back. Probably a couple of inches above it. I wish I could do something about its thickness!

We sold some stock so Tom says we’re definitely getting the printer as soon as we get the money, and I guess he’s going to pay off bills so we can be current, too.

Yup, Carol looked awful. But only her short curly hair. Her body looked great.

Tom and I talked about the possibility of me rewriting the last half of my story, but I don’t know. I like his idea for an ending as much as I like my ending, but we’ll see. It may delay my getting it off to a publisher by more time than I’d like, even though I’m not going anywhere.

Later...

Last night I was contemplating making up some excuse myself to get out of a predictable and boring sex session, but it turned out that I didn’t have to. I had the runs 4 times today. Also, he decided to “surprise” me by doing something different at a different time. In the middle of the day, he suggested we take a nap together. How convenient. Of course, he’d pick this weekend to do that instead of screw. I’m mid-cycle. Anyway, I can’t say I fully appreciate his half-assed effort. I mean, what kind of a “surprise” is that? I want to be surprised by not knowing what’s going to happen in bed, not by taking a nap. He’ll have to come up with something better. This is it. I’m now ready to take sex away from him without any guilt. If he can take what he’s taken from me without any guilt and without any concern for my feelings or desire to do anything about them, even if it’s only every now and then, then I shall take, too. But not without teasing him along the way as he’s done to me in the past. Every weekend I’ll have an excuse.

Cool. My spell checker is working like it did in the old version of this program and how I prefer it to work by not going to the beginning of the document just because I wanted to check the end of it.

Tom told me we’re definitely on for the printer this June. It’s about fucking time! Now I can finally get those pictures off. I’m sending Doe and Art my story as it currently is, but I changed most of the characters’ names to names that are familiar to them. I asked Tom if he thought they’d read it and he said his guess was that they’d probably read some of it, but then stop when they came to familiar names and didn’t like what they were doing. Why didn’t I think of that? That’s exactly what they’ll do, no doubt, and that’d be totally like them too, cuz they’re sensitive in that way. Too bad they’ll get to miss the exciting conclusion (the epilogue I wrote just for them). Doe, Art and Tammy may not find their mail too surprising, but boy, is Larry in for the shock of his life. He is not going to expect the tape, let alone for me to send his associates letters after all this time. After all, it’s been how long since I dumped him? Almost two years now, I think (I decided I’d write out the numbers one and two but not spell out others).

Eight weeks of working out and I’m still within the area I started. My tits, waist and thighs are down about an inch, but my hips are up. Tom says I’m losing weight in pockets, which is normal, and that it takes a long time to really see results. He said I probably won’t see noticeable changes in my hips till after 24 weeks of working out (not till October). I still think I’m going to pretty much maintain my measurements and that I’ll never drop below 120 pounds. Especially with all I eat. I eat 1500 – 2000 calories a day, which is almost like eating like a pig for someone my age and height.

I saw Gloria for a few minutes on TV last night and she looked lousy. Her face and body looked good, thanks to modern clothes, makeup, plastic surgery and lots of exercises, but her hair was horrendous. It was way too short.

We’re so cursed with foul smells in this house! First, there was the foul smell in the small bath which Tom took care of, then there’s the unidentified smell in the big bath that seems to come in the afternoons, and yesterday, the vents smelled like there was stale water in them like when you first turn on an evaporative cooler after you haven’t used it for a while. So then Tom came up with a great idea. To put an old closet stick-up inside the return air opening. However, the stick-up was pretty wimpy so I sprayed perfume in and it made the whole place smell really nice, but only for a little while.

I had Tom set up the headphones for the old TV in the living room since our new TV doesn’t have a headphone jack. That way I can hear the movies I tape better over the animal’s movements.

I decided to make a few changes to my parents’ copy of Burned Soul and I changed the characters’ names to names they’d know. Anne, the central murderous character, is going to be Doe in their copy. I also changed the epilogue a bit too, saying how Doe grew up to be a lousy mother, etc. In other words, it’ll be an epilogue she could relate to very well if she reads the story. I made sure to assign names of people I despise to characters Doe kills.

I remembered to tape today’s Carol movie, but I’m sure it’ll suck because it’s a 1977 movie set in the 1920s and it’s a comedy. I don’t dig comedies, westerns, science fiction or romance. I like mysteries, crime, horror, and drama.

I organized my office and bedroom closets.

I think I might’ve been wrong when I said they were back to booming in the sky again, cuz I haven’t heard anything other than that little rumble, which obviously wasn’t them. If it was, I’m sure I would’ve heard more than just one fly-by in 4 days.

I’m shocked to say that I haven’t heard that boom car stereo, either. Totally shocked. I was expecting it to be a regular till I put an end to it.

Stupid me, for the second time, forgot to tape a Carol Kane show. It was on this morning, but fortunately, she was just a tooth fairy in some stupid children’s show, so I’m sure I didn’t miss anything. I’m sure she was made up to look rather geeky and tooth fairies don’t exactly turn me on, either. I won’t miss the two movies that will be on the 11th and 12th. I want to see them too bad to forget them.

I still have no clue as to what causes these allergy fits I have every 2-3 weeks. All I can see as a cause is a good old case of old-fashioned God’s will. Why he insists on doing this to me, though, beats me. I guess it’s to compensate for the wheezing and asthma attacks that would land me in the ER that I no longer have but isn’t the tightness and congestion I always have enough? The shit I went through for my first 5 years of life should be enough!!! Why is he hell-bent on punishing me? Why must he always inflict some kind of pain, punishment or long-term problem on me? Can’t he just let me solve a problem without giving me a new one? If he’s not going to help me help myself with anything, then the least he can do is stay out of my way and not shoot me down any further!

Anyway, I’m still experimenting as far as the allergies go. I expanded the mice’s cages since they obviously don’t have anything to do with my allergies, and decided to pack most of my dolls away to give myself an easier time dusting for a while. I packed 19 away and kept out my favorite 14. I packed half the Barbies too, so I only have 5 out. I doubt this will help, though. Like I said, it’s God’s will no matter what. Put me in a sterile room and I’ll still have allergy problems.

I rat-proofed the bedroom closet yesterday for Houdini. He’s so cute and I love him like no other pet. It’s amazing how similar yet how different rats and mice are. All mice want is food, water, and a decent place to live, but rats are very demanding of human companionship, full of energy, and in need of being allowed to roam free.

Later...

Yesterday, some guy went down the road on a horse. I think I’ve seen them before, too. It’s so neat seeing someone go by your house on a horse!

Get this – the day before yesterday Tom made a comment while he was trying to get my scanner working about how he had had plans to surprise me with sex but wasn’t sure he could with the computer problems going on, etc. Yeah, well this pissed me off. I was like – if you wanted to screw, you’d find the time and not use my scanner as an excuse. Then he says he was only kidding, but we never did end up screwing. I wish he’d just shut his mouth and screw me or not screw me at all. And I don’t buy it. I don’t think for one minute he had plans to surprise me, cuz if you’re gonna surprise someone, you don’t announce your plans. You just do it. You don’t talk about it and then not do it. Meanwhile, I know what’ll happen – the same old, same old. Either Saturday or Sunday evening, at the end of his day, we’ll have a cumless screw or a no-screw. God, I am really getting sick of the same old piece of pie!

Later...

Tom replaced my wheel mouse with an old mouse I picked out years ago till I can get a new wheel mouse, but I’m still having problems with the scanner and the paintbrush program. I’ve had more computer problems since living in this house than I did the whole time I was in Phoenix!

They’re back to booming again. At 10:30 I heard a slight boom. Not the kind that’s really thunderous that you can feel. This one didn’t vibrate the house. I’m surprised they’d start up again on the last day of the month. I thought they’d start up on the 1st or the 15th.

Dan only gunned his engine a few times, but even so, I’d like it better if he’d get out of here. The fewer people around, the better. If he’s still here this late in the year, I doubt he’s going to be leaving at all.

My allergies are going off starting last night, but fortunately, they’re not constant sneezing fits. Not yet, anyway. I’m just having a few sneezes here and there. Not the kind where I sneeze 20 times in a row and have to jump up to blow my nose. My nose isn’t runny. My eyes were itchy, though. I had to put some eye drops in.

When I got up I got Houdini out of the closet and put him in the tank with the lid, but as is the usual case for two hours after I’ve tanked him, he’s all wound up. I took him out a couple of times and let him run around on the bed till he tried to jump off the corner closest to the closet.

There was a Gophie by the snake hole and I brought out some food. This time she waited till after I’d stepped out the door before diving into the hole. That’s getting brave.

Maria called again today but she didn’t leave a message. Yesterday, there was a fourth call. A private number with no message. Please, God, don’t let it be that Clara got our number! Even if she did, though, I suppose it wouldn’t harm anything. Larry wouldn’t want to talk to me any more than I’d want to talk to him. I don’t think he’d even bother leaving me a fuck you message after the mail I intend to send. If anything, he’d give the number to his mommy and daddy and have them do his dirty work for him. They’d call to bitch about it. Since they probably couldn’t get the number, though, and therefore can’t call, it’ll be interesting to see if they call any other people with my last name about the letters or if they send me a letter to the old address. I just wish we’d hurry up and get that printer! I don’t want to send Larry and his associate’s mail before Doe and Art’s, cuz then Doe and Art may be too afraid to even open any mail from me.

Later…

My allergies are acting up worse, so I popped a Benadryl. However, I’m sure it’ll fail to dry up my nose and stop my sneezing, as usual. Instead, it’ll dry up my mouth and cause me to take a 1-2-hour nap. Oh well. I felt like I had to do something. So much for the cutting down on the mice space experiment. I swear you could put me in a sterile environment and I’ll still have allergy fits for no apparent reason whatsoever.

Later…

My allergies have been making me miserable all day and I wonder – am I going to have this every 2-3 weeks for the rest of my life? And if not, what will the problem be that replaces it? I’ve racked my brains trying to figure out the cause of it, but there’s no pattern. I just can’t see a cause. That leaves only one thing – God. God’s the cause of this and I hate him for it!

I decided to spread my cleaning schedule out from 3 days a week to 6 days a week, so it won’t seem so overwhelming. Here’s my plan:

Mon. - master bath
Tues. - liv/my office
Wed. - den/his office/guest
Thurs. - second bath
Fri. - kitchen/utility
Sat. - laundry
Sun. – bedroom/retreat

It turned out to be the quietest Memorial Day weekend I’ve ever experienced out here. The Saturday morning boom car stereo was the only thing I heard. Even Dan’s place was dark and quiet last night. Makes me wonder if he finally fucked off and headed for Indiana.

I can just imagine what must’ve gone on at our old place. Must have been quite a riot, but then again, maybe not. The noise was aimed at me for the most part, so maybe they happened to simmer down once I left, but I’ll never know. I’ll never know how the Hs feel about living next to them, either. I figure there are not too many possibilities. They either don’t mind having their yard trashed and the noise to listen to (if they are up to their same old tricks), or they don’t like it, or they shut up and kept their garbage to themselves. Maybe it’s a combination of things. Meaning, maybe they are quieter, but still noisy by most people’s standards, and the Hs just don’t care.

Again I woke up at 121 pounds. Maybe that dream will turn out to be a premonition, but at the rate I’m going, if I were to be 115 pounds, that won’t be till November. It’s funny how I gained and started losing weight at the exact same time of year as the last time. The first time I gained weight (after quitting smoking), I started gaining in October and didn’t start losing until May. Same with the second time around and I also gained the same amount each time I gained weight. I peaked at a little over 125 pounds. Since I can’t muster up the willpower to eat 1000 calories a day, I upped my workouts and workout every day now. I even worked out twice yesterday.

I have a dress that I don’t need to wear a bra with when I’m around the mid-120s because it’s a snug fit at that weight. Now that I’ve dropped a bit, it’s not as tight around the chest.

Later…

Not only has my body gotten used to shitting at 121 pounds, but I just had to up and take my second dump of the day. What I wonder is – will I go back up to 125 pounds before my period?

I forgot to mention that last week I finally received a newsletter from the doll company I got some of my cheap dolls from. The dolls I got at K-Mart had a card you fill out for their club, but all their club is newsletters about other people’s collections. Like I really care? I don’t want to meet or talk to other collectors. I thought they’d send catalogs or coupons or something like that.

Houdini’s so funny. He was in his usual spot in the closet when I got up. I put him in the tank and didn’t bother to put the lid on it. I knew he could jump out, but I didn’t think he’d bother. Well, he did. He jumped out and right into the big cage.

Later…

And he jumped back out of it too, so now he’s in the tank with the lid on.

I just went out to feed our many outdoor critters. Tom said that when he was out yesterday, he saw one on each side of the house and says there are at least 6 of them around here (I know I should spell out numbers the professional way, but I’m writing a journal, not a book, so I won’t be so formal and proper).

Later…

This phone has rung the most it’s ever rung in the last couple of days. I just got an out-of-area call where the person never spoke, but I know someone was there because I could hear them before they hung up on me. I forgot to block our number when I called Sandy’s parents. I hope to hell they don’t have Caller ID.

Maria and the stupid Mexican Elena called, too. Maria’s this New York-sounding woman who thinks we sell water. Again she called saying she was low on water, and after the 3rd call from the Mexican, they finally left a message. Not much of one, though. They just made this sigh-like sound before hanging up. I could hear a radio or a TV on in the background, too. Getting 3 calls in one day is a lot, till the sales calls come in a dozen a day like they used to. I still don’t understand what it is with these people, though. Maria made it sound like she’s talked to the guy she was looking for before, so why doesn’t she realize that Tom’s voice is different? And what about these Mexicans? Shouldn’t they not recognize Tom’s voice?

It’s funny how Mary and Dave have been in this house 3 times in the 5 months we’ve been here, yet they were never at the Phoenix house in the 6 years we were there.

Later…

Oh, please! Just when I thought Dan was gone for a few months, it starts an engine-gunning spree.

Anyway, Tom’s looking into a really cool program that lets you make your own fonts. I want one that’ll let me write out the letters which I can then scan into the computer. However, having a dead scanner doesn’t help. Something’s really been cursing my computer this last month or two, and one of the many things to get fucked up is the scanner. Tom said he hasn’t figured out what’s wrong with it yet. Well, I hope he figures it out soon, cuz I have a really funny idea. The idea is to forge Andy’s handwriting, something I can do very well, from samples of stuff he’s written in a few journals of mine, and write a letter to his mother. No, I’m not gonna say anything mean, violent or sexual. I’ll just write the kind of letter Andy would really write, and then laugh over knowing how confused he’ll be when he hears about the letter he never sent. Then he’ll really wonder about his pot brain!

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix! I’m surprised it hasn’t been a bit musical around here yet this weekend, but I’m sure someone will blare their music today. Either Dan will blast off, or that boom car stereo will drive by.

Anyway, Tom’s doing his favorite thing – watching TV. He did do computer stuff, though, too. Since we didn’t screw Saturday or Sunday, I guess that means we’ll have to go through the bullshit motions today. He’ll wait till he’s been up for 10-12 hours, though. He said he got up at 6:00, so I don’t expect him to make a move on me before 4:00.

I changed the animals earlier and realized it was a waste of time putting food and water outside of the cages when all Houdini has to do is go home to eat and drink. If he can get out, then he can surely get back in, and Tom verified this today. When I got up at 10:00 he was home, but Tom said he wasn’t home earlier. So, he can come and go as he pleases when he’s in that cage, but until tonight, I have him tanked.

Later…

Wow! It looks like he may not touch me at all. If he doesn’t, I’ll have mixed emotions about it. A part of me will feel like he doesn’t want me anymore or find me attractive, although who could at this day and age? A bigger part of me will be glad to get out of something so planned and predictable. If we do screw, I’ll have mixed emotions about that, too. I’ll be bored with the same old, same old, but will feel there’s still a little bit of attraction still lingering. He tells me I’m beautiful, but I think that’s just another one of his lies. What’s beautiful about me? The freckle on my shoulder?

I wrote another letter to Mom.

Maria called telling us that the water’s getting really low, so don’t forget to pick some up! Some idiot in this area, who obviously doesn’t have a well, left this message yesterday. How stupid can they be? I mean, didn’t they realize that Tom’s voice wasn’t familiar, or does Tom sound exactly like someone they know?

Later…

He finally brought up the subject of sex. Right now he’s taking the 2-3 hours he likes to digest (it used to be 1) before we screw, and waiting till the very end of his day. Maybe he wants to finish himself off in bed. That’s another thing – the sleeping together hasn’t happened and I doubt it ever will. I put the ball in his court to see what he’d do and he hasn’t said or done anything differently. I don’t think either of us wants to sleep together that bad and I also think we’re so used to the way things have been that it’s all the harder to change.

God, give me the strength to come up with an excuse every weekend! I’d just feel so guilty, although I know I shouldn’t because he wouldn’t miss the sex any more than I would. I’m just so sick of the same old, same old. It’s so damn planned and predictable and boring me to tears. I can see why so many couples cheat, only it’s for different reasons than ours. I’ve got a predictable, dry dick here that’s boring me to tears, and other women have guys that smother them. Also, they bitch about how the man gets it over within a few seconds and doesn’t take the time to do it slowly. Yeah, that’s what I’ve got with this man here, but again, the reasons are different. Other women’s men are in and out because they’re horny and want a hole to squirt in. This man’s in and out because he’s too scared to cum in a place that he doesn’t know whether or not a kid could result in.

Later…

I was right. He didn’t go inside. I asked him if it was due to my being too cramped out last week and told him that I wrote how I suspected this would happen and thought it was quite a coincidence. He swears he wasn’t copycatting me and said he wondered if my subconscious led to his not being able to go inside (meaning, maybe that caused me not to put my heart into it), although he admits he “jumped the gun” the first time around by not having me do him by hand longer. The first time around when I went to warm him up he got fairly hard, but as soon as he went to go inside, he was his usual dry, limp self. The second time around, although I thought I was doing my best, I just couldn’t get him into it and hard, so I stopped and told him I thought it was hopeless and that I was sorry I couldn’t do a better job. He then went on to say that he wanted more variety, I won’t hurt him as long as I stay away from his balls, don’t give up, and he wants me to be happy. As I bluntly told him, he couldn’t make me happy sexually, because he couldn’t and wouldn’t make the changes necessary to make me happy, but that that was OK because his happiness is more important than mine. I want him to be himself and do what makes him happy. I’ll sacrifice sexual happiness to please him because he’s worth it and I love him. But he wouldn’t be happy doing things that’d make me happy. What would make me happy would be to not know what day of the week we’re going to screw, yet I know it’ll be Saturday or Sunday, but probably Sunday at the end of his day. It’d also be nice if I never knew when he’d cum, but instead I always know he won’t. Even so, and like I told him, I know how important it is for him to be himself and do what makes him happiest and most comfortable. It’s still hard to get used to a man needing so much foreplay, I told him, and that I’ve got to keep in mind how different he is. Then he said he’s just him. He’s both. He’s himself and he’s different. We’re talking about a man, who like a woman, needs a lot of foreplay, has a lower appetite, and rarely cums.

Tom left an hour ago to meet Mary and Dave at Fry’s. They should be back around 1:30. I have mixed emotions about this arrangement. I’m grateful for the new TV, but I feel a little insulted by her insisting Dave help carry in the TV when I’m perfectly capable of helping my own husband.

Haven’t heard the boom car stereo since yesterday morning, and I doubt Dan ended up blasting off. If he did, it was for a very short time because his lights weren’t on for long at all. I was surprised.

Time to go out and feed the Gophies.

Later…

OK, I just fed them.

Houdini didn’t stick to his usual routine last night. He doesn’t usually escape till after I go to bed, but at 9:30 I caught him running around in the retreat after I had come out of my office. He was hiding under the walker (I’ll store that in the trailer). I put him back in the big cage and later found him in the closet. I put him back again and he stayed in the cage till 9:00 this morning. He probably came out looking for me wondering why I was late. Animals are pretty sensitive to time. I upped the alarm from 9:00 to 10:00 cuz I couldn’t fall asleep till 2:00, and he was probably wondering why the alarm didn’t go off at 9:00. How I know he didn’t escape till 9:00 was because Tom said that’s when he last saw him. When I got up at 10:00, he was under the walker. I had blocked off the retreat by putting a towel across the bottom of the door, but he simply clawed it away, so I made that room safe for him to hang out in. He was wound up, as usual, for a while after I tanked him, and even tried to bite Tom.

Later…

The new 25” TV is here. Sure beats our old dark 19”. It was on sale for $200 and fits in the entertainment center perfectly. Mary and Dave visited for about 20 minutes, then they took off for the casino to win another thousand dollars of money they don’t need.

Later…

Tom’s still watching the new TV. He did take a break to race his car on the computer, though. Good, this, along with his cut toe and cut face, will delay our boring sex. I don’t know how he got the cut on his toe, but he obviously got the cut on his face from shaving. I know Sunday evenings are his favorite time to screw around, but I still say I’ll get to get out of it altogether cuz of I was cramped out last weekend and not in the mood. I just wish he’d make his excuse before we bother to get into bed and go through all the bullshit motions. And I swear he wants to wear my hand out at times, making me do him by hand forfuckingever! Long after he’s hard he still has me doing him by hand, probably to make up the difference for screwing for only a few minutes, and I’m like – come on, buddy! Let’s get this over with. You’ve been hard now for ages.

It’s amazing how many channels they’ve got! Fifty channels alone for music is total overkill. I’m surprised they don’t have a channel just for commercials. A channel for current commercials, one for old commercials, and then one for each type of commercial. A channel for car commercials, one for having babies, etc.

When I got up this morning, the first thing I did before getting my coffee was go into the closet to pull Houdini out and put him back in his tank. Again, he didn’t fight me. It’s amazing how he stands still and lets me pick him right up. I don’t put him in the big cage till around 8:00–9:00 and he doesn’t bother trying to escape till after I go to bed because he wants to play with Ratsy during those hours.

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix now! I’ll especially be thankful I’m not there on Monday.

Tom told me that somewhere in the Midwest or the East, a 13-year-old boy was sent home from school for being disruptive. A while later, he returned to school with a gun, said something to his teacher, then shot him in the face. That’s your all-American kid for you. It seems that once we hit the 90s, kids went downhill. That’s because the parents got worse and worse. I asked Tom if the kid was white and he said they didn’t say. Not that white kids aren’t bad enough themselves, but this sounds kind of blackish to me. I think shooting up teachers is a black thing. And the sad thing about it is that this kid’s not gonna be tried as an adult. It’ll be put in a school similar to Valleyhead, although it’ll probably have its windows barred, and it’ll be free by the time it’s 21.

I didn’t bother weighing in this morning or taking measurements like I have been for the last six Saturdays or so, because I know I’m still right about where I usually am. I know I’m 122-124 pounds, and my thighs are 22-23, my hips and tits are about 37, and my waist is 29-30.

Got another doll poster for my office wall yesterday. An Indian girl doll that’s pretty nice. I like having these doll posters. It not only makes for good decoration, but it’s almost like having these extra dolls that I don’t have and I don’t have to dust them or worry about breaking them.

Later…

We haven’t even been here six months and we already have a boom car stereo driving by regularly, just as I predicted. Thanks, God. Thanks a lot. Sure, it’s not nearly as loud as the boom car stereos that’d drive by in Phoenix, and sure, we don’t have to listen to people screaming, balls bouncing, and dogs barking, but the point of the matter still stands – I don’t want to know others exist when I’m in my own home and I don’t want to hear anyone else’s music but my own. This time I saw the car. It was a red car that came up from the front bedroom side of the house and drove up Meadow Green, the bedroom side of the house. As far as I could tell, it passed the renters. Of course the drivers were cocks and of course they just had to be blacks or Mexicans too, from what I could tell. Tom still swears that by the end of June, the stereo will either be broken, or they’ll get sick of driving on these roads if they want to keep it working. But it’s now become rather obvious that they live here. I’ve heard them too many times now for them to be just visitors. They live here and no one who’s into attention-getting stereos like that is going to just give that up, nor can they necessarily just up and move as soon as the thing breaks. Moving takes money and if they just moved into the area, and obviously they did, they’re not going to want to move again so soon, so they’ll just keep fixing the fucking thing. Although, I don’t believe Tom when he says they’re that sensitive. I think they can stand up to these roads just fine and even if they couldn’t and the stereo broke and they didn’t fix it, some other boom car stereo will drive by regularly enough. God will see to it. It’s in my cards. I’m destined to be forever stuck with these stereos and eventually, they’ll get tougher and tougher and louder and louder, so it’ll be as loud as it was in Phoenix without having to drive right up to the house. The good thing about it is that because they have to drive so slow on these bumpy roads (some of them are graded well enough to go 65 MPH on and some aren’t and you have to creep) is that I’ve got a good two minutes or so warning when they’re approaching. I can hear them for a couple of minutes before they get up to the house. Plenty of time to be waiting for them. What’s to say they can’t have a little meeting with me? Hee, hee! I told Tom I wasn’t kissing ass out here and I meant it. I’ll take care of anyone or anything that becomes a problem around here. I lived how others lived in Phoenix, but this time around, we’re gonna do things my way. So, come July 1st, when they’re still banging by like Tom says they won’t be, I’ll arrange a private little get-together with these cocks.

Tomorrow, Tom’s going to meet Mary and Dave at Fry’s Electronics store and pick us out a new TV all the while they get badgered and harassed by salespeople. I opted to stay home since I can’t stand crowds and pesky, pushy sales reps. Mary and Dave are going to waste their time and gas following Tom home to help him carry in the TV. I appreciate their taking the time to be helpful, and I know Mary’s old-fashioned in the sense that she thinks men should do the carrying, but I’m just as capable as any of the guys. I can help my husband myself just fine.

Later…

Our blasting boys haven’t been by again yet. They probably went into the city to do some drug dealing or to get wasted at a friend’s house, but they’ll return at some point today. At least they won’t be in and out every 45 minutes like the Mexicans were. The only thing that makes no sense is that so far I haven’t heard them more than once in a day. Well, wouldn’t I have to hear them at least twice if they went out once; when they left and when they returned? Maybe I was listening to music and missed one of their attention calls.

When I called Tom in to check them out as they were going by the bedroom, he tried to convince me that he couldn’t hear their music, but he had to have heard it. Why does he do these things; try to tell me something is when it really isn’t, or vice versa? He’d have to be deaf not to hear it, even if it wasn’t nearly as loud as in Phoenix. He also tried to tell me a few times he didn’t see or hear the sickos when I knew that couldn’t be.

Later…

I just looked back, and if this is the same car I’ve been hearing, we heard them on April 15th, then again on May 7th, then nearly every day since the 21st. Sounds like someone started visiting someone then moved in with them, or was having a place prepped and now they’re fully moved in. This proves Tom doesn’t know what he’s talking about if it truly is the same stereo, but we’ll see for sure over the next few weeks. I think it’ll be an everyday thing until I put a stop to it, and believe me, I’m only too happy to do so!

Later…

I can’t believe this dryer doesn’t buzz when it stops. It’s a pretty good dryer too, that you’d think would have that, but it doesn’t.

Tom’s dozed off on the couch right now. Let me guess – tomorrow evening we’ll get together for a boring, predictable round of sex, huh? And let me guess some more – he’ll either not want to go inside, or he will, but he won’t cum, right?

Life may be full of surprises, but our sex certainly isn’t!

Later…

Haven’t heard anything else, but the long weekend is still young, and the day is still early. If people are gonna blast music, they’re likely not to start till nighttime when the weather’s cooler and they can open their windows and doors to let the sound out.

I can’t wait to finally send these pictures off to Tammy, Doe and Art and to be done with them. I just want to rub this new house and things like that in their faces, and I can’t wait to send off Larry and his associate’s mail, too. Wish I could be there to see his reaction! The last time I said I was sending shit to people he knows, I bluffed him. So, just when he thinks I wouldn’t do that, here he’ll be getting two phone calls all about the mail they received. I just hope they read it to him or at least tell him the contents of the letter in enough detail. And I hope to hell he hears that tape, too. I wonder if he’ll try to do something about it like look up those with my last name in Phoenix and send them mail. Well, if he does, he’ll have an awful lot of mail to send out, cuz there’s a zillion people with my name. He does what he does, but nothing he can do can get to me the way I can get to him. What can he do? Take me to court? Have me thrown in jail? The funny farm? There’s just nothing he can do. This isn’t mail between non-related people where a white person refers to blacks and Mexicans using nasty words, after being harassed by them with noise. The police are gonna give him the same brush-off they gave me if he goes to them as when I tried to call his local police department and bitch about him making prank calls to me. They’re less hesitant to get involved when it’s family, and all they’ll do is tell him what they told me – she’s on the other side of the country. The cop I spoke to did say he’d call him and tell him to knock it off, but I don’t believe for a minute that he really did. Of course, there’s always the chance that Larry recognizes my handwriting on the envelope, although I tried to disguise it, and ditches it right then and there. Who knows? He may even be afraid to bother opening things with no return address. Whatever happens - the ball’s now in my court and I hold the threat over him. He’s completely powerless against me. There’s nothing he can do to ruin me or hurt me in any way, but there’s plenty I could do to him.

Later…

Not surprisingly, Dan’s place is all lit up. If he’s blaring music, I wouldn’t know it, cuz I have my own on right now.

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix!

Later…

Just added Jenny’s father to my mailing list. Yeah, I went online and looked up her last name and of course Jenny wasn’t listed, but her father was. He’s in the same house they’ve been in for nearly 20 years in West Springfield. Her father has got to be really old now. I know her folks were older than mine. He must be in his 70s. Anyway, the idea is to piss both Jenny and Larry off with my sending the letter to him. I not only hope Jenny will read the letter, but I’m sure she will unless her dad gets so disgusted that he tears it to shreds. Anyway, I bet on the odds of her reading it and wrote at the end of the letter: shame on you for reading your dad’s mail, Jenny! The worst thing that could happen to me for this is that they send me a letter about it to our old address which will get forwarded, of course, and which I’ll have returned to sender. I’ll recognize their handwriting, and of course, they wouldn’t put a return address on the thing. God, on the other hand, is gonna get me good for this, but it’ll be worth it.

The Memorial Day weekend is starting early from what I heard. When I got up at 10:00 and turned off the fan I could hear the faint beat of music and I was like – you gotta be kidding me! Thanks, God. Thanks a real lot. I expected music tonight, Saturday night and Sunday night, but Friday morning? Anyway, it only lasted two minutes and again, I’m virtually certain it was that boom car stereo Tom says can’t live out here. Well, it probably doesn’t or else I’d hear it every day, but it sure visits a lot. The reason I’m sure it was a car is because of the way the volume faded in and out and because it only lasted a couple of minutes. Usually, when someone turns on a house stereo or radio, it’s for more than a couple of minutes. Again, I’m pretty sure it was coming from the front, too. I just thank God we’re not in Phoenix, but of course there wasn’t too much of a ruckus from the Mexicans last Memorial Day weekend. That’s because they weren’t there yet. I remembered after my last entry that they didn’t move in till June 1st. So, in less than a week they’ll have been freeloading it for one year. Well, in the house, that is. I’m sure they’ve been on welfare and ripping the state off for years.

I see Gophie now, so I’m gonna go give her a bite to eat.

Later...

Gave her some lettuce this time around. It was last week’s lettuce for the animals that are just starting to wilt and it’s more than she can eat, but maybe the rabbits will eat it, too. It’s biodegradable, so it’s OK. Whatever doesn’t get eaten will dry up and disintegrate like old leaves. She just popped up out of her hole and is attacking the lettuce now. She’s gotten to be more trusting. She used to stay in her hole for about fifteen minutes after I’d return to the house after dumping her some food, but now she’s back out in five minutes. I put the lettuce by her hole, but not too close to it in case there’s a snake that may jump out at me, although I doubt she’d be near where a snake was. Still, I always take precautions. Anyway, it’s cute how she jumps out of her hole, runs and grabs a piece of lettuce, then runs to eat it by her hole so she can hop down into it if something dangerous comes by.

Speaking of a certain indoor pet that just won’t stay home, Houdini is the perfect name for him. Sometimes you’ve got to have a pet for a while to come up with the best name for them. Well, Houdini certainly suits this guy. I put him in the big cage last night, along with Ratsy, figuring that even though he is growing, he could still escape, but probably wouldn’t do so till after I went to bed. This time, though, I put food and water outside the cage for him, lifted Ciara’s outer skirts, and blocked off the retreat and my office. Sure enough, I found him in his favorite spot in the closet when I got up, then I put him back in the big cage. He didn’t fight me, either. He let me pick him right up. Because rats are normally nocturnal, including this one, I figured he’d sleep and not escape again till tonight, but I was wrong about that. I walked by a little later and found him sitting by his cage, and boy did he want to play! He ran around his cage and climbed around and under me. I put him back in the cage and found him out again when I was on my way to pee. I went and peed, which he had to follow me to do, then decided it was time to tank him. He’s still wound up too, running on the wheel. I don’t know what’s got him all hyped up today.

There’s a quail hanging out by the bush the iguanas used to live under. Now they seem to be living under the bush by the bedroom.

They still haven’t updated Carol’s schedule and I don’t know if they’re going to do it later today or if they’re going to do it later this month. The last time they updated it, they did it on the 26th. Maybe they don’t do it the same day every month.

Later…

My God! Today this rat’s as dayturnal as Gophie and gerbils are. I just put him back in the big cage to see what he would do. He escaped instantly and ran under the bed, which I shooed him out of, and into the closet to his favorite spot behind my guitars. Then I made sure he heard my footsteps walking away, then quickly and quietly I tiptoed back and lay on the bed where I could see under the closet door. I wanted to see if he’d stay there and go to sleep, or if he wanted to explore. As I figured he would, he stuck his head out from under the door and saw me right away. Then I went into the closet cuz he had run back to his hiding spot. I sat down on the floor and he walked up to me. Then I picked him up and re-tanked him. He’s still too hyped up to go to sleep anywhere.

I forgot to mention the dream I had earlier. I dreamt I weighed 115 pounds. Is this a sign of weight loss to come? Well if it is, it hasn’t happened yet cuz I’m still 122 pounds. The thing about it is that I dreamt about gaining weight before I gained it the first time around, after quitting smoking. I think I had dreams about losing it too, before I lost it, although I can’t remember for sure. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but we’ll just see what happens. At this point, especially after working out now for nearly 7 weeks, I think I’ll always bounce between 122-125 and that I’ll never lose the 2 inches from my thighs and the 3 inches from my tits and hips and the 6 inches from my waist that I’d like to lose.

Later…

This has been the most erratic period I’ve ever had, with such a slow start and a slow ending. Never have I had such intermittent cramps, bleeding and spotting. It starts and stops, starts and stops. Since when do I spot for a few days after my period? That’s something I usually do before my period. Maybe this is when God has something go wrong so I need a hysterectomy. Or maybe this really is normal for me. Who knows? I still don’t get why it was so important to God that I ended up with a man if he knew he didn’t want me to have kids. Not that I regret meeting and marrying Tom for an instant, but why was my true love fated to be a man? Why couldn’t I have had what I have with Tom with a woman? I’m sure I’ll wonder about this for the rest of my life.

I think I’ll go see if the new schedule is posted yet, but I doubt I’ll be able to get online. Between noon and 9 PM, getting online is impossible.

Later…

Cool! For the first time ever, I see three Gophies out there! Two big ones and a baby one. No wonder all that lettuce got eaten so fast.

It’s a scorcher out there now at 112 degrees. Gonna try again to get online to get the schedule, but I doubt I can get on now.

His mom offered to pay for us to have the trailer moved out here, making it more possible. How generous! That’d be wonderful of her.

Later…

Yes! Office Killer and When a Stranger Calls Back are on this month (got the schedule a couple of hours ago)!