Not gonna have much of a blog entry this time around because there really isn’t much to update on. I got the makeup kit I won and read its instructions to Tom in Spanish, Italian, and German. I don’t yet feel comfortable reading French aloud.

Tom is continuing to have the weekends off, and I polished my nails lime green with a glitter topcoat. I really wish I wasn’t so damn blind so that applying makeup would be as easy as applying nail polish. I can’t wear glasses while doing my eyes, unlike my nails. I have a magnifier, but it’s still blurry. I never expected to have vision this bad this young. I thought I was another 10-15 years away from vision this poor.

Things are otherwise going well. We’ll be picking up the paint for the second bedroom at some point this weekend.

Well, there is one mystery to my day, actually, and that’s how the hell Molly managed to view my blog for nearly a minute and a half. The first attempt she made, she was bounced back out in seconds, as it should be. But how was she in for over a minute the second time around? I contacted the IP-blocking people. Maybe they can tell me. Harmless or not, there’s still something that makes me very uncomfortable about this cyber peeping Tom and her prying eyes always following what I’m up to.

She’s been online more and more and is checking all my blogs, including the ones I’m not using, religiously. It’s only a matter of time before the unwanted contact starts back up again. They just don’t get that no amount of time being restricted from the Internet is going to change her. As soon as she can get back online, be it after 10 minutes or 10 years, she’s back to stalking those of the past. She really, truly never will change. I always knew this. Anyone who’s gotta keep tabs on someone who dumped them years ago and who made it clear they want nothing to do with them can’t possibly be right in the head now or ever.

Added some incense and a cute little figure of a tiger carrying its cub to my farm animal collection, even though tigers aren’t exactly “farm” animals. But it can still live with my cow, horse, dog, and cat.

In last night’s dream, Andy created a site dedicated to Fleetwood Mac fans. He asked me to go check it out and make sure there were no spelling errors and that all the buttons functioned properly, so I did. Upon entering the site, random Fleetwood Mac music began playing. First was a song by one of the guys, though I’m not sure what it was. Then Christine McVie comes on singing a song I’d never heard of. The only words I remember were, “Lord, give me success.”

This afternoon’s walk was beautiful. It wasn’t too cold or too hot and was partly cloudy, so I didn’t have the sun glaring in my eyes. I passed Bob on his bike along the way.

Yesterday, I ended up with two surprise wins: the makeup kit and a dual Glade fragrance warmer that came with two different scented oils.

Today, I couldn’t get online as soon as I got up and went to check for messages. Then it ran snail-slow, and I wondered, until Tom got home and reset the router, why the past always returns to haunt us. I guess, however, this has to be done with everyone’s router every few months or so.

I know I’ve said this before, but I really wish people would stop “liking” and commenting on my Facebook cover photos because they’re not private. I choose to keep my friend list private, but when people “like” or leave comments on them, that exposes them to the public. If they want to have their own accounts public, that’s fine. But I’ve chosen to keep Facebook the one place where I’m much more private as opposed to other sites, and that includes keeping my friends a mystery to outsiders.

It turns out that Bob wasn’t sawing in his garage for the fun of it, but someone else was because something was wrong. At least that was the impression I got when I saw a guy dressed in white like a technician step out of the garage, pull a mask off his face, then leave in a pickup. So whatever was going on wasn’t some project or hobby, but probably termites or something like that.

Tom told me to be thinking of what I want for my birthday, even though it’s not till the 4th. I thought of various things – a new dresser, a new palm tree for the living room that’s between 6-8 feet tall, and things like that. Then I decided I’d rather not get anything that’d be just one more thing to have to move once we recarpet in the spring. So I browsed through Amazon for unique things that are fun and decided on this rat sticker for the bedroom door. Then I decided on a sexy lady silhouette in white for the front door. And lastly, some sexy anime miniature figurines with a bondage theme, something new that would definitely – uhem – add major variety to what’s left of my doll collection. Gotta laugh trying to picture my mom’s reaction if I was still a kid and someone got them for me for my birthday or Chanukah, LOL.

I must say I admire this woman on Prosebox who admitted that she not only doesn’t work due to a husband who makes a lot of money but isn’t going to apologize for it either.

Neither am I. I’m not rich by any means, but my husband makes a lot of money and I too wouldn’t need to work if I were able to. Not outside of the house, I mean. Here I work taking care of a large house and two spunky pet rats. Then there’s the laundry, and well, sometimes I even cook. :)

But the point is that just like she was making in her own post, I’m not going to feel sorry or guilty for it any more than I will for any people/subjects that I may bash in my entries. My civil rights were violated once, and believe me when I say it will only be once. My naïveté was taken advantage of back then, but that was then and this is now. I not only have just as much right to hate as I do to love, and to express myself just like any other person out there, but to live the life I see fit to live for me and not what society thinks is best suitable or in the “norm.”

I realize attitudes depend on what’s trending at the time. If it were the 50s I’d be criticized for not having kids instead of being a housewife. These days, though, society has decided I’ve done right by passing up kids, but guess what? I don’t care what society thinks. I do what I think is best for my husband and me, and like anyone else, I try to avoid what I don’t want or like in life. Now I’m not without empathy for the poor. I lived in poverty myself in the past and I’m not about to assume I never will again. If anyone’s learned that the past sometimes creeps up on us and returns to haunt us when we least expect it, it’s me. So I’ll never say never; just that I hope we’re never poor again. We’re doing all we can on our part to help see to it that we won’t be.

I can’t help what people are going to think or how they’re going to react when they read my journal, nor am I going to be responsible for their feelings. If you feel the need to flip out or take offense over what someone else wrote in their journal, then why did you bother to read it???

I also don’t get the automatic assumptions some people make when reading some comments on some Prosebox entries that I’ve read. I don’t know where some people get certain things from this, this, and that, and draw the conclusions that they sometimes draw, yet it seems many people read things into what a person is saying and see things that aren’t even there. Like assuming a woman who’s pissed off is PMSing. Well, admitting we’re depressed doesn’t automatically mean we crave attention. Being angry doesn’t mean we’re losing control. Complaining about one who’s done well doesn’t mean we’re jealous. Admitting we have regrets doesn’t mean we feel guilt. Saying we’re lonely doesn’t make us losers. Pointing out something negative can merely be an observation and doesn’t mean we’re “complainers.” Hating someone doesn’t mean we hate ourselves. Wanting something doesn’t mean we have nothing. Bashing something doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate the good. Praising something doesn’t mean we’re showing off. Admitting we don’t have as much as someone else may doesn’t mean we’re trying to make them feel guilty for what they’ve got.

Yet people seem to think some things go hand in hand together - and sure, sometimes they might - but I don’t think there are any set rules.

Later…

Time for a family and neighborhood report. Tammy's artery isn’t clogged, but they did remove some polyps from Mark and are hoping they’re not cancerous. Tammy will be in the hospital undergoing knee surgery from Monday to Thursday of next week. She will then have therapists at the house for 5 weeks following the surgery to help rehabilitate her.

I woke up to landscaping and sawing sounds. Yeah, old Bob next door was running a circular saw, from the sound of it in his garage. The SUV was parked on the street, and I could see some things he pulled out of the garage and set in the driveway. So much for the bike pump being “all” I’ll hear. I just hope to hell this isn’t a regular occurrence now that we’ve been here for 4 months, as it seems to be the time when good neighbors either move or go bad on us, whether they’ve moved in next to us or we’ve moved in next to them. Once in a while is fine, but more than once in a while would get old. Remember, their garage is just a few feet from the wall of our house. Technically, though, he has the right to do this during normal daytime hours whether I like it or not, just like I have the right to express how much reverse discrimination pisses me off even though no one wants to hear it.

Anyway, I expected it to be noisier at this time of year. Most warm climates are livelier once the winter approaches and it stays that way until the spring.

Even though they’ve been a problem too, since we’re just cursed with neighbors no matter what, I really miss having only female neighbors. They just don’t have the annoying toys males have, you know? Still, to date, they’re our quietest neighbors yet and I hope that doesn’t change.

Although I still prefer houses to condos or apartments any day, I realize that there really isn’t that much of a difference in general. What interior sounds you don’t hear are made up for in exterior sounds. Car doors make up for apartment doors, saws make up for TVs, people chatting outside make up for cabinets closing, and yard work makes up for footsteps. So unless one is out by themselves in the middle of nowhere, one always hears something no matter what they live in.

I won a $79 makeup kit, but it’s not enough to entice me back to sweeping full-time. Not without a win worth $500 or more. The timing was nice, though, as my mascara has dried up. Putting on makeup has become extremely hard for me because I’m so damn blind, so I don’t wear it much anymore anyway. Besides, I’m so damn ugly these days that not even makeup can make much of a difference.

No one on Facebook had anything to say about the article that was shared with me on 10 black youths in Brooklyn, NY who beat an innocent white couple at an intersection, calling them every white racial slur in the book in front of witnesses and the cops, yet will NOT be charged with a hate crime. Why is it that I have a feeling that if it were the other way around, people would be quick to leave sympathetic comments for the blacks and ones of condemnation for the whites? Do blacks not deserve to be held accountable for their crimes, too? I don’t understand why so many people favor, defend, and protect blacks any more than I get why they’d choose Windows computers over Macs, thus putting themselves at greater risk of trouble. We’re quick to hate the monsters that reside on the other side of the planet, but not our own homegrown enemies. WTF?

We didn’t do much yesterday other than change the rats’ cage and take a walk down to feed the ducks. Tom did a little leaf-blowing/vacuuming, too.

I have the soothing sound of a waterfall playing on the sound machine that sits on this desk because the daily buzz, buzz, buzz of the landscapers will be on any second. I’m surprised they haven’t started yet. As I’m learning, it’s an everyday thing around here at this time of year that you hear on and off all day. The waterfalls, oceans, brooks, and other forms of white noise don’t always drown it all out, but it does most of it.

What I didn’t expect to hear yesterday was the screaming of a kid here in a retirement community of all places. When I looked out the window, I saw a little girl on a bike with training wheels riding and screaming up and down the street with granny. This is the kind of shit we came here to escape. Tom doesn’t mind screaming kids, but to me, they’re so damn annoying and distracting. If they could play like civilized humans and not scream like animals, I wouldn’t give a damn, but hey, it’s better than bouncing basketballs just a few feet from our window that would go on for hours in Phoenix, so close and so loud they might as well have bounced the fucking thing off the walls of our place. Really hope, though, that kids screaming in the streets here don’t become a regular thing. Even more so I hope none move in here. This isn’t jail. They don’t come and inspect the people’s homes. So what’s to keep people from breaking the rules if they want to?

Anyway, I have a busy day ahead of me, buzzing landscapers or not, writing my book, cleaning, working out, studying languages, and more. Maybe when I get a chance to check in on social sites I won’t have to hear all about blacks, God, and Christianity. Guess ignorance really is bliss at times.

Molly started a new blog on MO, and it’s full of the same old shit – how can she live without a boyfriend, her mother controls her spending, she hates Marbridge, she’s lost weight, she’s going to the movies, walking, having her nails and toes pampered, and pissed that Alan dumped her for calling and texting him so damn much.

Thirty years old and she still doesn’t realize she doesn’t love, she SUFFOCATES. She obsesses, devours, and chokes! It’s a sad and scary indicator that nothing’s changed with her but her lack of free time, though she does seem to have more time to play online lately. She’s not peeking in on me as much, but she still does here and there.

Found Kathy on Twitter, and it was all I could do to keep from flinging one insult after another at her, but I didn’t want Alison to see it, so I didn’t. “I hope I can stay troll-free here,” she said. And why should she be so privileged? She doesn’t let others remain troll-free when she can come at them anonymously like the coward that she is.

Still a spoiled little princess, too. Getting baby showers and all kinds of things given to her and done for her that Tom and I would never have gotten had God answered my baby prayers like He did hers. Oh well. No use sweating human crap like her and Molly. At least Kim isn’t stalking me as closely as I thought she was. Still, even though I’m glad as hell we never had kids in the end, it bothers me to not only have the choice made for me but that God can favor some people over others just like it bothers me when some parents favor one kid over another or the law favors one color over another.

Later...

Got my first negative comment on my new MD account and wonder if it’s someone either connected to the trolls or maybe someone like Noone. Although the email address looked legit, I couldn’t verify it or trace it to any other account. Molly’s still whining in her blog and starting to get comments that I’m suspecting could be from herself if they’re not from Kim. I don’t think they’re from Kim, though, because nothing came in on Ask for over a day when I last allowed for anonymous questions, and because nothing’s been left on my MO blog, although she won’t contact me on trackable sites. Whoever it was asked why I still stalk her and Molly’s supposed answer was “I don’t know.” Why would anyone think I stalk her? That question made me think Kim might’ve asked, trying to throw suspicion off her own self. If I had to guess, though, I’d say it’s just Molly asking her own crazy self these questions. But if that’s so, why does she think I’m stalking her and not Kim, Kathy, or someone else? Finally got a doctor’s appointment made, but it’s not until January. I feel very sorry for those affected by the typhoon in the Philippines as well as others who are less fortunate than I am. However, I don’t think it should be up to those who are doing well, especially us Americans, to help pick up the pieces for them. Enough of our money has been carted off to other countries as it is. We need our own money. There are enough people right here in the US that are in need. As a country, we should be taking care of our own first and foremost. I know that’s not how it always works since the government left us for dead a couple of years ago while sending millions overseas in an attempt to kiss ass for whatever, but that’s the way it should be nonetheless. Broke up my walk today and in two different directions. I headed right when I went around the block the first time, then left the second time around. A pickup came and parked on the street in front of one of the houses Tom looked at when we were house hunting, and a young woman with two little girls hopped out. One was yesterday’s bike screamer and I saw the little pink bike in the carport. In fact, I’ve actually seen it before yesterday. They had in-state plates, so I’d say that given the presence of the bike and how often I’ve been seeing them, they do live here. I could’ve sworn I heard screaming last weekend or the weekend before but wrote it off to the kids in the mainstream being unusually loud. Mom probably can’t afford to fend for all 3 of them as seems to be the case for most moms today. The fathers give a damn about as much as a cockroach does. But… they’re not next to us, so I don’t care so long as they don’t make a regular habit of hitting the streets. I don’t think they will. At least not unsupervised and for long periods of time. They had to be only about 2 and 4 years old. I just hope their stay is only temporary and that more people don’t go breaking rules like this if it’s not. I’m just so glad we don’t live across the street! When I was by the houses that border the outskirts, I heard a couple of big loud dogs. How terrible it must be at night when sounds carry easier, cuz you know how the people are here – if they don’t have to have indoor pets, they won’t. Anyway, as I was coming up the street I saw next door pull in and thought to myself, let me guess. You’re going to park in the carport instead of the garage like you usually did in the past, and you're going to slam doors, right? Well, they did park in the carport, but they didn’t give me the 4-5 slams at a time I’ve been getting till about 4 hours later. Also, they went somewhere after slamming doors. When they return they’ll probably hit the garage for the night. They’re still the quietest neighbors we’ve ever had. Even so, Andy says his ATTACHED neighbors are not only very quiet still but often take off for days at a time. Now why can’t ours do that? They went on vacation but they had someone living there while they were gone. They were quiet too, but still, it’d be nice if they took off for a few days here and a few days there. Or at least were still working. However, if I could rarely have working neighbors in the mainstream, why would I have them in a retirement community?

Got my hair cut yesterday, and I absolutely love it! The girl did a great job, though it wasn’t Diana. It was a girl named Theresa instead. She got it amazingly straight too, with just a slight flip on the ends. Today it’s curly, but still looks good. I was going to just go for a wash and cut, but she recommended a blow dry too, since this kind of cut needs to be dry to see exactly what it’s going to look like and if it needs any fine-tuning. It’s called triangular layers. She left the sides as they were but layered the back. It’s just brushing my shoulders now. The layering of the back is to keep it from poofing out in a funny way on the bottom like it did the last time Tom and I cut it to the shoulders and had it all one length.

She recommended I have the relaxer done sometime and insists it really does work. Even on hair that’s coarser and curlier than mine. For about $80, I could have a wash, cut, and relaxer. Maybe this summer I’ll consider it. Sarah says it’s a good deal.

For now, I love having short hair, as it is so much easier to live with. It’s easier to wash and quicker to dry. It doesn’t clog drains or vacuum brushes as much, nor does it get in the way when I’m working out.

I even dared to post a few pics of my fabulous hair on Facebook despite how horrible the rest of me looks. I realize, though, like never before that nothing – nothing – will ever get the weight off. Diets work, but simply aren’t sustainable. The 1000-calorie thing day after day, week after week, month after month, just isn’t doable. And so now I am ready to let the world see how fat I’ve become. Should I really give a shit anyway? I’m nothing new or unique. Most people my age are heavy, and I personally find it has its advantages that being petite and “hot” didn’t have.

I’m glad the girl talked me out of cutting my bangs. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with that and asked her for her opinion. She said that since I feel I have wide jaws, covering my forehead would only accentuate the largest, roundest part of my face. Keeping them long gives off the illusion that my face is more oval-shaped. It’s also good that I kept them because those would have to be trimmed more often than the rest of it. We only get half an inch of hair growth per month, so I can go 3-4 months between salon visits. Bangs need trimming every 6 weeks or so, and I’d be tempted to do them myself, and I wouldn’t always do a great job.

We popped some strips off the wallboards in the second bedroom and spackled the grooves. It shrunk a bit overnight, but because we plan to add texture to the paint, it shouldn’t be noticeable once the walls are done.

Tom has 4 days off during the Thanksgiving holiday, during which we’ll finish the spackling and then do the painting. After that room’s done, we’ll know if it’s worth popping the strips and all that.

Got a busy day ahead of me with a haircut scheduled for 11:00, walls to start prepping for painting, a book to write, and more.

Tom used the treadmill, which is in the living room, as I was going to bed a couple of nights ago, and I never felt or heard a thing in there with the sound machine running. In the trailer, I’d have felt every step he took vibrating throughout the place no matter what I had going for sound machines.

Where Tuesday was insanely noisy for a retirement community, Wednesday and Thursday were okay, and yesterday got a little annoying with landscaping and vehicles. Next door’s getting more door-slammy with their SUV. Gee, we must be coming up on that fourth month. Still, they never could or would get as noisy as other neighbors we’ve had, and if they did, they would be tossed out of here in time. They’ve been parking in the carport more lately as opposed to the garage. Then I hear a few scattered door slams but never see them go anywhere.

I ran into Bob on my walk yesterday. He’s gotta be closer to 70. He said the trip was good, and I told him we’re going to Hawaii in January. He said that’s a good time to go. By the next time I circled the block, he was running what I’m guessing is the pump to blow up his bike tires. He ran this for about 15 minutes. Although I still worry he’s going to start using the garage more often for loud projects, a saw or a drill wouldn’t have been as steady of a sound as I heard, and they did say that’d be all I’d hear. So no real worries there. Hey, I knew the bastard above was going to make sure I didn’t get working neighbors, not that there are many still working here anyway.

It takes me 5 minutes to briskly walk around the circle. I only did 4 rounds yesterday, but at least it wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be going around the same block over and over again. It’s a good way to get exercise in the fresh air yet still remain close to home.

Just when I was wondering if Molly would ever check my MO blog, she not only did that, but she created another account there as well. She’s only made one entry about how well she did at bowling. Next comes the weight, and then the people she hates at Marbridge, I suppose. Her spending 20 minutes in my LJ blog, which hasn’t been public in a while, then seeking me out on MO tells me nothing’s changed with her just like I always suspected. As soon as she’s back home where she doesn’t have as much structure, rules, routine, and supervision, she’ll be back to haunt me regularly. This is part of why I keep private any blogs she does know about and block her from those she does know about. I’m back to being unable to log into MO, so I’m done there since they’re just shutting down in a few months anyway.

Some people think it’s uncool to say negative things about a person in their journal/diary, but that’s what they’re for. A journal is a place to write about our experiences and the people involved in them, and I see no need to hold back where Molly’s concerned. I’m not doing anything wrong, providing sensitive info, or making any threats. She supposedly tries to read my blogs to “make sure I’m not talking about her.” Oh, I’m talking, alright, when she gives me a reason to, but she won’t be reading. Not unless she finds my second MD blog, and if she did I wouldn’t know about it because that block is untrackable. I’ve kept my Prosebox account mostly secret because that’s my place to write more freely about those I actually do care about but whose feelings I wouldn’t want to hurt, say if I said their hair looked funny or their spelling was atrocious or something.

It took me about 17 minutes to make it down to the front entrance on yesterday’s walk, and about 20 to make it back home at a very brisk pace. Having used a treadmill in the past, I can say I was probably walking a little over 3 MPH. I wasn’t out of breath when I returned, but I was tired. Is that normal for someone my age? My hips and legs were also stiff, but I feel fine today. What I like about walking outdoors vs. indoors is that I can’t just give up any time. Down at the entrance, I can’t say, “Ok, I’m done. I’ve had enough,” because I gotta get back home. I like walking out there even though it’s not doing me any good. Meaning that it’s not helping my weight at all. It helps with other things, though, so it’s not a completely wasted effort. I’d go to a doctor and hopefully find out what’s keeping the weight on, only it seems that all the doctors in NorCal either aren’t seeing new patients or they’ve got bad reviews. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. After all, it’s been since the 90s since I’ve had a regular check-up and I’ve survived this long. Other than dentists, ears, and sleep docs, I haven’t been to anyone for anything.

Anyway, I’m not sure if I’ll go out today or wait and go out tomorrow with Tom. I’ll probably take a different route either way.

Norma asked if they get to see a pic of my haircut when it’s done, but IDK. Do I really want to shock and disgust people with how huge I’ve become? I know I shouldn’t care. After all, getting this big wasn’t part of the plan and there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s why it REALLY bothers me when heavy people are portrayed as pigs in books and movies. Yes, some people eat themselves heavily, but not all of us sit on our asses lazy as hell and stuffing ourselves every chance we get.

There’s one thing I can say for sure, though. Praying, dieting, and exercising may not get the weight off, but having a high-protein diet definitely helps curb hunger more than when I have starchy foods that are low in protein like bread, potatoes, pasta, and rice. I just wish there were more low-carb foods than meat and eggs!

Last night I had a dream I was back at the dentist I had in Glendale, AZ before we left Phoenix. I was very attracted to the assistant that worked there named Melanie. She was a tall, dark-eyed brunette. Today she would be in her early 40s and if she’s like most people over 40, she’s no longer skinny. In the dream, she was still young and hot, only she was blond.

What I’m almost positive about was Molly asking me the same old shit she usually asks me – how’s my husband, am I happy, do I worry about the future – all classic Molly questions. If it was her, though, then why didn’t she visit any of my blogs or at least try to, and why has she stopped tweeting?

I asked her to stop so I could flush out Kim (who might not be stalking me as much as I once thought), but she’ll probably deny it’s her even if it is.

LOL, talk about a dream turning into a nightmare. Nane came over to "watch" me while Tom was on a business trip. She said my hair looked sexy (in real life it's getting cut off this weekend). She handed me pink daisies and said I lost a lot of weight (in real life I still have enough rolls to build a mini roller-coaster for miniature people). So I throw my arms around her neck and say, "It's so nice to finally meet you!" We begin to kiss and who should ruin it all but my dead mother, who then storms into the room to say we "gotta hit the road" and to hurry up and get ready and that she doesn't want to have to tell me again. :(

Definitely gotta step up to a stronger prescription for my glasses over the next few months. When I first got my bifocals, things were crystal clear off in the distance. Not anymore. They seem to be noticeably worse every 6 months or so. How am I going to see even with glasses in another 20 years???

The older I get, the less sure I become about certain things. I was so sure there was a God, then I was sure there wasn’t, then I felt certain that while a God probably created the universe and the people in it since many things of such intricate design hardly seem happenstance, and then He abandoned us, which would explain why so much shit goes on in the world. Now I don’t know what to think.

Same with the afterlife. I was sure it existed and what it was all about. Now I’m not sure about anything.

There is an endless supply of possibilities and without actually meeting any God face to face or dying and then discovering an afterlife, if there is one, I can’t say for sure what’s what. I don’t think any of us can. Seeing definitely helps us to believe. If I weren’t psychic, then I would probably have a hard time believing in such a thing. Perhaps my lack of ghostly experiences is why I’m unsure as to whether or not I believe in ghosts, though I guess that if psychics can exist, so can they.

Gotta get on with today’s chapter and then the cleaning and all that. Want to wait till the sun’s up before I go out for my walk. I’d like an extra 10° too.

It’s oddly quiet out there today. Where I expected the usual slew of blowers, mowers, traffic, and car door slams, it’s been a fairly quiet day so far. It’s not even noon yet, though, so things are subject to change.

I didn’t wake up as sore as I thought I would from yesterday’s workout, but I skipped today and just did my housecleaning and my usual online activities. Tomorrow I’ll get back out there. I just have to remember to head back before I start getting too tired. I thought of circling the block so that if anything goes wrong, I’m always close to home, but that’d be boring going round and round the same block. Most of the other streets are straight lines with dead-ends branching off of them.

A day off here and there won’t kill me anyway, since more isn’t better and the scale is going to eventually climb because I’m no longer severely restricting calories. I’d like to have one of those bodies that is made thinner by exercise, but that’s just not me. Not at this age. I still love how working out makes me fit and gives me energy, so just because I stopped dieting doesn’t mean I’m going to quit working out any more than it means that I’m going to start stuffing myself either. I eat when I’m hungry and that’s that.

I’m now up to 10,053 words with my book. Thinking about how I have nearly 40,000 to go makes me want to beat my head against the wall, so I try not to.

I appreciate Aly’s wonderful editing job on my book. She’s been providing feedback and catching those little mistakes we tend to make when we crank out so much so fast.

I’m so glad that I no longer share any mutual friends with those I am no longer friends with. It’s nice not “accidentally” having to hear what past friends, that I’d like to remain in the past, are up to. I simply don’t care what’s going on in their lives. I want them to remain forever a mystery to me. I’m sure there are others out there who can relate to the appreciation of these severed ties.

Gonna make an appointment to get my hair cut this weekend as long as nothing else comes up. I don’t mind going to that same girl in Walmart. She did what I told her to do, after all. It’s just that I’m sick of long hair. It’s a pain maintaining it when it’s so thick and curly. Even if it wasn’t, I’m just sick of it. It’s always in the way. I want it to my shoulders and I’ll probably cut my bangs back, too. I’m sick of it being in my face unless I secure it back, and all I want is just enough to gather into a little stub of a ponytail for when I’m working out.

I called Tammy, and we talked before the cell quit on me. She’s not doing well at all. She wanted to discuss her usual subjects - her health and how much she hates Lisa. They’re holding off the lung transplant for now, but her knee surgery will be called off if her newest medical curse pans out to anything serious. The doctor said there was blood in her carotid artery. I was confused at first, and well, apparently you’re not supposed to hear it. So now she has to deal with that and see how serious the blockage is. She’s also at risk of incurable infections since her immune system is shot and she’s become immune to antibiotics. There’s also the stress of Mark’s heart over their heads too, never knowing if today might be his last day.

After a year of silence, Lisa called her, and they got into a screaming match and hung up on each other. She said she told Lisa she “never did anything wrong to her and how could she turn on her while she now sees Bill as the best damn thing after what he did to her?”

That’s EXACTLY what I could’ve asked her 14 years ago. How could she defend Bill while turning on me???

She still blames it on no self-esteem, of course, and not being able to just up and leave so easily with 3 kids. I understand her, but I don’t. Sure it would be tough to leave with kids. Sometimes it can be tough even without them. I don’t have any kids, but where could I go if I suddenly had to leave Tom or he died? They’ll never reinstate my disability no matter how disabled any number of doctors say I am cuz the screwy system says I didn’t work enough years to qualify. Fucked up or not, that’s how it is. So I can sort of understand that part.

But she has done things wrong, and low self-esteem is no reason to shit on others any more than what happened a century ago gives blacks the right to shit on whites like so many of them are doing these days. Many Jews’ ancestors had it rough too, but they’re not running around playing the “Jew card” when they can’t get their way. I don’t understand why so many blacks and whites alike are so quick to come to blacks’ defense any more than I get why Tammy would defend Bill’s ass no matter how beaten and brainwashed she might’ve been. I know it’s not always cool to bash what I don’t understand. Many don’t get how/why I can’t simply set my alarm and get up at the same time every day, but that doesn’t make it any less true. So maybe abuse really can fuck with your mind in a way that can make you do the craziest of things. I wouldn’t know cuz I would’ve fought back and left the instant I smelled this kind of trouble in anyone I was with prior to meeting Tom.

Tammy's not kidding about Lisa’s perception of Bill, though. When I went to block her on Facebook so she couldn’t include me in any family drama like she did a few years ago with my parents, I pushed back, stunned, just staring at her page and said, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Just fucking kidding me.” But sure enough, sprawled across her cover photo was a picture of her and Bill smiling happily at each other – Bill, as in the guy who abused her and her mother – that appeared to have been taken at some kind of event (bastard’s second wedding?).

Anyway, Sarah wants nothing to do with Lisa, Tammy says, but Becky’s chosen to attend Lisa’s wedding cuz she’s “family.” Well, I didn’t tell Becky this, as I don’t want to get involved other than what Tammy tells me and because Becky has a right to make her own decisions, but there’s more to relationships than just blood. Just because one may be related to us doesn’t mean they’re good for us to have in our lives. Lisa truly is disturbed. She made this very obvious to me with the way she lashed out at me. Not Molly/Kim kind of disturbed, where she’s on disability and can’t distinguish fact from fiction, but she’s dishonest, accusatory, emotional, and bipolar. I’ll definitely be sure to post this in my semi-secret blog only!

Regardless of anything Bill’s done, for Tammy to say she’s never done anything wrong to Lisa is pure bullshit. Even she’s admitted she’s made mistakes where she was concerned. All parents fuck up at times. I don’t have to be one myself to know that, and if anyone wasn’t ready to have kids or in the right frame of mind for them 30 and even 20 years ago, it was Tammy. I didn’t know this, but Mom once told her to let Larry raise Lisa. That’s something she would say. Bad mother or not, for a parent to pit one kid against the other like she did with Larry against her and her against me, is utterly appalling.

I feel bad for her while I don’t. I’m sorry she’s suffering, but remember how bad I suffered on account of her supporting her abuser once upon a time, even if it was in a different and indirect way. I also get sick of hearing the same damn things, sort of like I do when I’m on various sites and have to hear all about God and the Black Love trip we’ve been on since the L.A. Riots. Well, God and blacks may be loved, but I still have mixed emotions about her. I’m just glad our parents and Larry are gone. Three fewer people to make trouble for the others, though Dad didn’t usually make trouble. Instead, he allowed trouble to happen.

Dover Gray, Mark Twain Gray Brick, and Cathedral Stone. Those are the three hideous shades of gray my dear pal Andy has painted his living room and door in. We’re close enough friends, having known each other all our lives, that we can rag on each other in a fun way when one does something the other finds laughable or gross. To me, gray paint is as bad as pink carpet is to him. Gray has always been my least favorite color.

I just hope this is the last of the string of curses his washer has brought him. The last one was the painter dripping paint on his printer or something like that.

As for our own walls, Tom already picked up some wallboard joint compound for the second bedroom, which is where we’re going to start this weekend. That room’s still going in lavender, but I decided against a patterned paintbrush overlaying it with pink roses. I’d be too afraid I’d hit the ceiling or not make straight enough strokes with the thing. Gonna do the laundry room in pale pink, instead, and the master bedroom will still be mint green while the kitchen is done in deep turquoise and off-white throughout the rest of the place. It’s going to be done a little at a time. We’re going to add a fine texture to the paint so we won’t have to sand. It’ll add about $4 to each gallon of paint, but will be worth it. We’re going to leave the smooth wood at the peak of the cathedral ceilings in the living room as is. It contrasts nicely with the lighter colors and I don’t want either of us climbing up that high anyway. That’s gotta be about 12’.

Over the last weekend, we washed the bedroom and bathroom drapes. Not the raspberry drapes I just bought, but the sheer inner ones that have been here and that provide privacy when the outer drapes are pulled back.

We also rearranged the living room a bit. The couch is now facing the TV, which means it’s now in the middle of the room. We pulled the treadmill out of the corner and by the front windows where the couch used to be. It looks much better this way, but now the empty corner where the treadmill used to be is calling for a tall fake palm, banana, yucca, or cherry tree of some kind. That and a new couch/recliner are still down the road as we have other things to focus on now that are more important.

I love this house’s heater too, and the way it blows hot air for shorter amounts of time than warm air for longer periods of time. Just wish they’d stop with the damn landscaping! That really, really spoils the daytime peace around here, though I’d still rather that crap in our own spacious home than Jesse’s crap in a tiny rental.

Next door’s got me a little nervous parking in the carport now instead of the garage. I hope it’s because they’re going back out and not because they’re going to make some racket in the garage. I still worry about him becoming a bit of a workshop junkie. It usually seems to be within 4-6 months of moving in next to quiet people or them moving in next to us that they go to hell. Then again, we were always next to renters and that right there usually makes a big difference.

No workshopping for old Bob after all. He just pulled out.

So back to those darn annoying landscapers. I asked one of the guys when I went out walking if they made him do that every day and he said pretty much. They have 160 acres to tend to and it’s pretty much an all-day thing every day for a few months during the fall. Really makes me think harder about soundproofing some of these windows (you can supposedly do this by adding a second set of windows and there’s a company that does this for this reason). This has been going on since 7:50 and it’s not even noon yet. But would it block the sound or just soften it? If you can still hear it anyway, so what? Still, while it’s dead quiet at night, I had no idea it’d be this noisy in the daytime. In some ways, the Jes pest’s place was quieter.

I enjoyed my walk, though due to my hips not being used to the continual and brisk motion these days, they’re a bit sore. But that’s why I added variety to my routine besides strength training vids. I jogged some of the ways too, as usual. I went further than I did yesterday and was out there for almost 40 minutes. I really got to admire all the different houses and the way they have their yards and patios decorated with an assortment of trees, flowers, wind chimes, and mini statues. You can definitely tell old people live here. Younger people wouldn’t appreciate their property as much or how it looked.

During my walk, I saw two cats and some playful squirrels. The only real annoyance was the landscapers, of course, working all along the road that runs along the back. Maybe I’ll take the iPod next time. It’s amazing how many people are up and about that early.

I took a walk down a dead-end to one of the houses we considered that was going for just 10K at the time we only had 3K saved up. This was when the market was really down and things were way cheap. The house is only a couple of years older than this, but is bigger and has 3 bedrooms. Had we gotten that place, it would’ve been quieter for traffic and landscaping, but who knows about the individual people as it has houses all around it, unlike this place.

Sugar was so cute earlier. I forgot to latch the door, so as usual, the little devil busted loose, but Romeo stayed home. I was sitting on the stool eating a bowl of cereal at the counter when I heard the packing paper rustling that he loves to play in (and sleep in). Then he came over and ate some of my cereal with me. He had 4 pieces of Captain Crunch while I ate my share, haha.

Molly hit my LJ blog last night. I asked Aly if she went there in hopes of my making it public, or if she just likes to appear on my tracker. Aly said she supposedly does it to make sure I’m not talking about her. *rolls eyes* Gee, that’ll stop me.

It’s still too cold and dark to go out walking, but in about an hour, the sun will be up and warming things up nicely. I wouldn’t mind walking in the dark, as I wouldn’t feel the least bit threatened by anything or anyone, but not when it’s down in the 40s. I want it to be at least 55°F when I go out there.

If there’s anything good about being on a rotating schedule, it’s the variety of workouts I can do. If I were always on days, I’d be tempted to just go out and walk except for when it was really hot, because that’d be the easiest thing to do. Walking neglects my arms and abs, though. Being sometimes on nights, however, I can do various exercise routines indoors that add good variety to my regimen.

I was notified on Blogger by someone in the UK that MyOpera is shutting down and to export anything I may want. I read an article about it, and sure enough, they’ll be shut down on March 1st. This is one reason I have my stuff published on multiple sites; because I know that any site can shut down at any time for any reason. I guess they’re having both security and financial issues. I don’t need anything exported, though, due to it being on other sites, so they can take what’s there with them. While it’s kind of sad, I won’t miss MO much. I got sick of the spam, scams, and unwanted friend requests. I also don’t like how I can’t backdate entries there.

Andy was saying that he was worried he hurt my feelings by saying he didn’t want to read my book because he doesn’t read books and is only interested in magazines. Also, he doesn’t have as much free time as he may appear to have just because he can check into Ask several times a day. For the sake of avoiding possible home invasions, he doesn’t like anyone to know his schedule, so that’s why he doesn’t usually mention what he’s up to online.

I can totally relate, and I assured him of this, too. People think I have more free time than I actually have because I work at home. Also, we can’t help what does and doesn’t interest us. I like books and movies but don’t care for TV, magazines, celebs, or those I don’t personally know, no matter how talented and rich they may be.

My fellow writing buddy is reading my story, plus those who are interested in reading it in various places I’m sharing it at. As always, I write for me first, be it journals or stories, and any reader is an afterthought that I see as a bonus. I appreciate anyone who’s interested in or inspired by my writing, even if it’s not a must.

I also realize that being older and wiser than I was in 2000 doesn’t necessarily make me invincible to potential trouble. However unlikely it may be, the possibility of once again being victimized, even if it’s in a different way for different reasons and by different people, is still there. And maybe just like last time, God will see to it that I am totally defenseless and unable to fight back. This time, though, my own voice will be heard because if anything ever happens to me again, there’ll be what the “victims” say, what the media says, and then there’ll be the truth. Well, keeping a public journal is a good way of sharing the real me and telling my story, even if I don’t share every single little detail, so here lies the truth, now and in the future. :)

Had a happy dream last night for once. It was a nice change after the usual negative/weird dreams, though there were a couple of weird things about it. It took place in our second Arizona house, and we were apparently expecting some goodies in the mail. It was a Saturday, and I was saying to Tom that I hoped we’d get these things in the mail that day so we wouldn’t have to wait until Monday. Well, one of the “goodies” consisted of an old-fashioned audiocassette of some music. I was so excited to get it too, and happily skipped around the house with it, glad we didn’t have to wait till Monday after all. I also got a purse with dangling palm tree charms, but I have no idea what Tom got.

Chapter 4 brings my book up to 6714 words total.

Later…

Had a very cold half-hour walk. Makes me wish I was in Florida at this time of year. If I were, I’d be walking in the middle of the night like I will be in the summer here. Yahoo said it was 37°F and our thermometer said 48°F. I believe Yahoo. Jim, the 6:00 man, rounded the corner as I was crossing the street, and we waved to each other. Although cold, the walk was great. I lightly jogged a bit, too. I did go see my ducks, but they didn’t ambush me like last time. I think that as long as they don’t hear/see food being served, they won’t do that.

This place is gonna be great for bike riding when I get a new bike! Anyway, my heart rate was in the 130s when I returned.

The cleaning is done, today’s chapter is written, and now I think I’ll study languages. I alternate between two different languages every other day. Yesterday was Spanish and Italian review, so today’s French and German. Might as well do it now before the traffic and landscapers get going out there.

Gotta work out and shower soon, then it’s on to Chapter 3 of my book. Since giving up on trying to lose weight, I expected it to start climbing, even though I’m working out every day, but it has stayed the same. Fine with me.

Norma posted a picture of Nana Bella with her sister Sophie, Norma’s mother, circa 1925. Oh, what pitiful hairstyles they had, but it was so cool to see. Even though she was only around 15 at the time, I recognized which one was Nana. She lived in California when I was born in ’65, so she was mostly a stranger until she had a stroke and came to live with us when I was around 12. By 17, she was gone.

My flip-flops with the 1½-inch heel arrived and fit perfectly. I wanted a pair that consisted of rubber and vinyl so they’d be water-friendly while at the beaches in Hawaii and the pool there as well as here.

I also got flavored coffee – fudge, cinnamon, caramel, and blueberry.

The completion of Chapter 3 makes over 5000 words so far of my new book.

I just went and set these clocks back an hour before I could forget.

I now have just over 3300 words of my new book written! I’m always on a roll in the beginning. It’s keeping the story going I have trouble with. Guess that’s why I do short stories. Short stories for those with short attention spans. :-) The beginning and the end of the story are always the easiest for me. I’m not using dictation for the book, of course, because it’s not accurate enough. I use it for messages, and that’s about it. Another thing I hate about it is that it takes forever to launch.

Tammy gave me some medical input since she’s not only had tons of medical problems herself but some training as well. She’s not an RN, but she’s… she’s… well, I don’t know what her proper title would be, actually, but she knows more than I do.

Regarding Tammy's health issues, Andy was saying that while he respects the fact that she’s my sister and all that, he has no sympathy for her. He feels that she’s basically getting what she deserves for being the vindictive bitch she can be. After all, she has not only screwed me over in the past but also her daughter. If you can mess over your own flesh and blood, you can mess over anybody. He doesn’t consider her trustworthy, and while I hate to admit it, I don’t trust her 100% either. I would’ve also been THRILLED, while I sat in a cold hard jail cell 13 years ago, to know she would one day suffer as she has and still is. After all, I’m the one who put the spell on her to begin with, not that I’d expect those who don’t know me well to believe it. I’ll only be sharing this entry with my closest friends (or non-Googlable sites she doesn’t know I’m on) because the last thing I need is for her to see it. But yeah, the few who know me well would probably say my rage is what cast the negative energy upon her. The fire starter without the fire, remember? The problem is that I can’t call it off once a spell has been cast. I just don’t know how.

I still struggle with mixed emotions where she’s concerned. I’m not as pissed and as bitter as I used to be, but let’s just say I’m still hesitant, and I know I have to tread lightly. I am always careful and cautious with her. She wouldn’t hesitate to come and get us or fly us to her if we were suddenly homeless and starving on the streets, which is more than I could say for most people who had the means to help us. But God help me should I ever piss her off again, and you know what? God WOULDN’T help me. He has proven time and time again that HE has NO problem with others messing me over. He sat back and let my mother abuse me as a child, so the last thing He gives a damn about is what anyone gets in mind to do to me as a grown adult.

This is someone who lashes out for the wrong reasons. I never in a million years would’ve expected her to turn on me for letting her abusive ex have it. Who the hell in their right minds defends their perps? She wasn't scared of him, after all, though she did claim to be somewhat brainwashed. IDK, poor self-esteem and the belief that she deserved the abuse and that that was all she knew still seems like a piss poor excuse to me, but I will admit I’ve never been in her situation either. We’ve led totally different lives and are totally different people with different beliefs, tastes, and interests.

It’d be fine if she only knew how to contact me online. Then I could just block her or not use sites I couldn’t block her on. But she has our address and our phone numbers. I don’t know that there’s necessarily anything she could do with that info if she pissed me off enough to make me dump her and bring out her vengeful side, but I also hope to never find out either. I know a helluva lot more than I did in 2000 (like not answering the door to the damn pigs or thinking the truth would set me free), and therefore I would be a lot harder to trick, deceive, and manipulate. As I learned the hard way, never touch anything the police hand you. That’s how the welfare bum’s pig pal got my prints onto the evidence he falsified. The worst she could do, I guess, would be to make bogus claims of me making threatening phone calls or writing threatening letters, but without my voice on tape or her ability to produce a letter, she’d have nothing on me. So honestly, I don’t see what she could do with our address, but hey, I’m only human and no one’s 100% foolproof.

NaNoWriMo has begun! It’s kind of exciting. Don’t know if I’ll hit the 50K, but I’m gonna give it a try.

Gonna breeze through this entry so I can get started. Want to try to get in about 2K words today.

The monthly newsletter was delivered, and we were listed as one of the newcomers to be welcomed. I guess they do this every few months. Also, the house across the street is pending. Tom said Brenda and someone else were there for hours the other day, and since that’s a bit long for a showing, he figured she was overseeing a home inspection.

Sometimes I feel like we should take advantage of all that the clubhouse has to offer, but we’re both so busy with other things. Besides, we really did come here to live and not to socialize. Still, one of those painting classes may be fun if I had more free time. I dabbled in oil painting back in the 90s, and it was a messy pain in the ass, but kind of fun. Yes, it’s true, folks. I can draw and paint, though I haven’t done it in years.

I’ve really come to like our oven. I like how I can hear the gas softly hiss and then stop when it’s preheated.

Had a dream last night that Andy’s sister Marla suddenly lived just minutes from us. Andy was to fly out to visit her and asked that I meet him there. I did, but Marla and I barely talked other than to say hello and goodbye because there were hundreds of guests. Andy and I could barely talk as it was cuz so many people kept coming up to him wanting to chat.

Once I was back home, I emailed him to say I sent Marla a message on Facebook thanking her for dinner and saying she was a fabulous cook with a beautiful home. I enclosed a copy for him to give to her in case the message didn’t go through.

I must be back with the Jes pest now seeing that I haven’t been able to get online for about a half-hour now. This is the first time in weeks that it’s gone out on me. Oh well, everybody’s Internet connection goes out at times. At least it’s not several times a day like it used to be.

Poor Andy. It’s like he’s being punished for the new washer and dryer he got a while back. First the thing leaks and causes water damage, then the painter does a slop job, and now the painter’s apparently gone and broken his bathroom door!

My next two choices as far as doctors go were an older white woman with a three-star rating and a Hispanic woman with a four-star rating. I chose the latter.

One more day till NaNo starts. I’ll be looking forward to doing that with Alison. I need to start making preparations today. I’ve got the basic plot figured out and now I have to really start developing my characters and mapping out what’s going to happen in what chapter. I probably won’t have the story take place in any particular location.

Upon going through some of my old journal entries as I post them onto various sites, I realize what a young, dumb and naïve idiot I really could be at times in my younger days, but I suppose a lot of us look back when we’re older and say the same thing. What I thought was cute, humorous and creative back then only seems so immature and downright stupid to me now. Some of it does anyway.

I also feel like an idiot for assuming that my prayers were answered once upon a time back in the 90s when I wanted so badly to believe, like so many others, that something up there actually cared about me and would listen to me. All I had to do was ask, right? And He would give. Well, I quickly realized I was talking to the wall, and I feel stupid as hell for falling for that one for a while and letting much of society’s beliefs brainwash me. Now don’t get me wrong, if you’re one of those who can actually pray for something you want and get it, more power to you. But when I look back on some of the things I asked for, I realize they really were easy prayers. Things I would’ve gotten anyway. If I asked for a million bucks and got it, that would be one thing, but really, I was asking for such simple everyday things that would’ve happened anyway.

Even the more complex prayers never panned out to anything, and I can honestly say that there has never been anything to suggest that prayer works. At least not when it comes to me. I wonder, though; is it just a case of nothing up there caring to listen to me in particular? Or do people overestimate the power of prayer and ask for things they would’ve gotten anyway? My guess is the latter. People seem to want so badly to have faith in this invisible entity that they seem to associate God with things He doesn’t appear to be at all connected to as far as I can see. I actually took offense when someone once asked me if I thank God for our new house. But God had/has nothing to do with our house! My husband’s hard work and money, along with my inheritance, is what got us this house. No God reached down, picked us up, plopped us down inside of it, and said the bill’s on Him. Tom pays for it. I clean it. Period.

Later…

Less than 24 hours and October, which is chock full of bad memories for me (plus 2 good ones), is history! At this very moment 13 years ago, I lay on a cold, hard, creaky bunk bed in Estrella Jail’s Tent City. Inside the army tent known as the “welfare tent,” because I was newly admitted and had yet to be assigned a job, I lay there depressed and angry as hell. I was also stunned out of my mind to think that words on paper could cost me so much money and half a year of my life. Of course I was still stuck on stupid or naïve or whatever you want to call it, thinking I was there for the journals I actually did send and not the letter I didn’t. I wasn’t yet aware of the fact that the pig in my case was a personal friend (or more) of the black bitch that spearheaded the legal revenge against me for the city complaint.

And so there I lay, branded a racist, which I would forcefully become, thanks to their BEHAVIOR and not their color. I’m still ok with certain individuals, but as a whole, I have no sympathy for blacks any more than I do Muslims. Blacks may not be as deadly as Muslims, but they are just as destructive. Instead of ruining people’s lives by the masses, they ruin individual lives.

13 years later in my new home in California, I sit unashamed of my feelings, which are not only based on my own personal experience, but on the experiences of others as well. Reverse discrimination is real, folks, only most people don’t want to see it. The more we keep giving them breaks – in the courts, in the job market – the more they will take advantage of us. People do what works. If we let the race card work for them, they will continue to play it and fuck over innocent people. Sure, there are always going to be some people that hate blacks simply for their color and that will unjustly fuck them over, just like there will always be those that hate gays, no matter how much more accepted gays may become in society, but most people nowadays don’t hate blacks at all. They’re the ones hating on us, but just like we wouldn’t admit it decades ago when we really did hate them, they’re not going to admit that they hate us now. Well, as one of the few who sees them for the greedy, selfish and sometimes hateful opportunists that they’ve become, I make no apologies for how I feel towards them or Muslims. I am proud to be a hater of haters!

Unlike the Muslim terrorists, I don’t want to go out and harm blacks. I don’t want to “recruit” others to dislike the people they’ve become either. I’m just a person who’s not afraid to speak her mind. You can beat me over the head all you want with yesterday’s tales of slavery, and while those were horrible times, they’ve got NOTHING to do with today. There’s NO excuse for this race card bullshit to keep going on and on and on!

Later…

We have now been here for 3 months and 3 weeks.

Right after I wrote that I chose the Hispanic doctor as my second choice, Tom tells me she too, isn’t taking new patients. sighs with frustration Since when did making a doctor’s appointment get so complicated? I just want a checkup and a lousy referral. With the exception of the dentist and a couple of specialists along the way, I haven’t had a checkup or any type of female exam since the 90s. If pick #3 turns out to be all booked up I’m going to really begin to think something up there is trying to tell me something. Like maybe to see if I can skip the GP Doc and go straight for the ear doc. We probably don’t even need a referral. Some specialists you can just go right to without going through a GP.

I’m excited about NaNoWriMo, which is starting at midnight. I should be getting up right about that time but probably a few hours before that. I created a file for my next story and jotted down some notes.

Not much left to do today. I slept forever yesterday and my schedule made a 4-hour jump instead of the usual 1 or 2, so I’m up later than I’d like to be. I’d still be on days all the time if I could, but since I can’t be, I prefer to be on nights for the peace and quiet. It’s after 9am now and it’s still quiet here, but I’m sure the daily buzz will be on any time now. I’m surprised the loud traffic hasn’t begun yet, though.

Maybe I’ll watch a movie or maybe I’ll use my dictation buddy to stock-pile some more questions on Andy’s Ask account so he can have fun with that when I’m not around. He’s going to need them when I’m in Hawaii if he’s not going to invite others to help fill in for me when I’m over there.

I’m beginning to think Andy’s new washer came with a hex on it. Ever since he got it, he’s had nothing but trouble. I didn’t know this, but apparently the last dumb cock went through his stuff before he threw his shit out and fired him.

The doctor I wanted to see isn’t taking any new patients now so now I have to pick out another doctor to make an appointment with.

I finally heard from Paula. I was just entering the living room when I heard the cell phone start chiming, and it turns out that she’s just been busy though she was sick around that time I had the bad dream about her. They didn’t do the hysterectomy yet. Instead, they’re going to run more tests on her.

She said she’s going to school and I asked her what for. She said “flowers.” I asked her if she liked it and she said no. Then why are you going? I asked her, and she said because her sister’s paying for it, whatever that means. Maybe this sister just felt that she didn’t have enough to do. She does have a car but she doesn’t have Internet access.

Got in a half-hour workout earlier. Damn, I’m in good shape for a fatty! I just wish the lunging exercises weren’t so hard on my knees because they make them feel stiff afterward. I don’t know if this is because I’m doing them wrong or because of my extra weight.

Not that I want to, but last night I was thinking about how I’ve never sensed my parents’ presence or my brother’s. I’m guessing this could only be because they either don’t wish to contact me, are unable to, or there’s no such thing as the afterlife.

Sure enough, just like they have been doing much more often than I’d like since they died, they were in my dreams. Even my uncle was in one of my dreams. My father was sick in the dream and my mother had cancer. My uncle answered the phone when I tried to call my father and seemed to be thrilled to hear from me. It makes me wonder if all the dreams I have of them, even if they’re not always good to me and even if they’re not always wanted, are their way of reaching out to me from the other side. Maybe they feel that by coming to me in my dreams I am reminded of them. Not that they don’t pop into mind at times while I’m wide awake. I wish they wouldn’t, but sometimes they just seem to force their way into my mind. Usually, it will just be some random memory, sometimes good, sometimes bad.

Been busy copying journals from/to various blog sites and spending less time on Facebook. Everything there is “like” this “like” that and it really gets old. My news feed is jammed with spam and so many people post the same old shit over and over again anyway. So Facebook has really lost its shine. Glitches never get fixed and things change like crazy, though I do try to check in once a day for messages.

For the longest time I noticed that of my many OD followers, one was in Grand Prairie, Texas. Having started allowing for notes over there, she noticed this and introduced herself. Turns out she’s a 74-year-old woman who has taught creative writing. She has an extensive journal of her own about her life and her family’s life as well, which she describes as warm, loving and adventurous. She’s a fantastic writer.:-)

Through an entry of hers, I linked over to this site called Prosebox. I like it a lot. I like how you can have multiple “books” as they call it over there. I plan to have a book for each place that I lived in throughout my life. So that will end up being about 10 books or so, and I might even decide to add a story or two.

Nothing exciting as far as anything going on here or in my dreams. Andy wonders if the cancer dream I had a while back had to do with John McVie being diagnosed with cancer because to him it is like death. I personally can’t imagine feeling that way about somebody that I never met, but Fleetwood Mac is one of his major passions just like blogging is one of mine. Still, I don’t think the dream had anything to do with John. I think it actually had to do with another friend of mine. Like I said before, right disease, wrong friend. We may never know, though.

Got up in the afternoon to what’s been an incredibly windy day so far. Tom and I both took a walk down to the lake and fed the ducks, but I don’t know if I want to do that anymore. They got a little aggressive with us today. So much for thinking they weren’t like pigeons, but these things had no patience at all. My favorite duck ran right up to me and grabbed the bread right from my hand. When we would walk they would follow. This time there seemed to be a lot more ducks. The last two times I was there, there were maybe only about 20 ducks. This time it seems there were 50 ducks. We didn’t stay too long. The wind made the 68° temperature seem a lot cooler than it was.

Because I was stupid enough to stop my nasal spray, my allergies were bad yesterday. Not so bad that I had a runny nose, but because I did sneeze quite a bit, today my diaphragm muscles are sore. Because of that, that is why I chose to walk today instead of doing strength-training exercises that could aggravate it.

After doing some research we chose a female doctor in the area who also deals with internal medicine. She’s 55 years old and she has a lot of good reviews. She also practices close to home so tomorrow we’re going to call and make an appointment for me to get in and see her.

I hope nothing’s wrong with me but at the same time, I know that one cup of coffee shouldn’t put half a pound on the person either. It would be nice if they could find something and fix it so that I could get proper results from exercising and dieting. In the end, I have a feeling I’m going to be forced to choose between either being hungry and staying where I’m at, or not being hungry and gaining weight to the point that I lose my mobility. The thing is that I’m not eligible for a lap band or anything like that because I’m not technically obese; I’m just fat. I hope I don’t have to gain another 50 pounds in order to be able to get anything done that’s really effective and long-term.

My main reason for going to this doctor is for a referral to an otologist. The not being able to lose more than a few pounds will be a secondary thing.

While it’s not a big worry, a part of me worries that since there’s no chance of him being laid off anytime soon, something else will happen to drain our money, like maybe health issues or things breaking like crazy and aren’t under warranty but that need to be fixed. As it is Tom’s computer seems to have lost its mind and he’s dealing with that. At first he thought it was something about Firefox that was messing it up but then he discovered that it had to do with the computer itself. I guess that’s just how I am, though. I worry when things are rough and I worry when things are just fine.

The Maverick operating system is now in place. Not sure if I really like it better or not. The Mac mail program looks totally different. However, I really like this speech-to-text reader. I’m using it right now. It’s not perfect but I think it does a pretty good job. It won’t be good for writing stories though.

I got both good news and bad news from Tammy. Her lungs have not gotten any worse. But due to a car accident she was in back in 1989, she needs to have a knee replacement done next month. Mark also has his own issues to deal with. It seems to be one thing after another for her. I wonder when life is going to give her a break!

Today I’m busy but I won’t be working out. I need to give my shin muscles a day of recovery. When I was using the treadmill I kept it level and did not use it on incline. My legs are not used to walking outdoors where the ground is not always perfectly flat. The terrain isn’t as hilly as Oregon but it’s not as flat as Arizona either. I don’t have to meet my ducks tomorrow. That is not what I meant to say. I was trying to say that I will take Tom to meet my ducks tomorrow.

When I went to the lake yesterday I wondered where all the ducks were. There were only a few of them in the usual spot. I gazed across the lake and then I spotted the white ducks. I walked over to them and gave them a piece of bread. They’re definitely not as aggressive as pigeons can be. They didn’t follow me when I turned to leave. One of the white ones started to swim across the lake but that was about it.
They are back from vacation next door. Tom saw their SUV when he was out hosing down the rats’ cage.

I used one of the no-soggy cereal bowls that I won. It really is a clever idea.

I have text-typed almost all of this entry. I only had to make a few corrections.

Later…

Had to go back on my snot spray. Stupidly thought that somehow my nose would remember not to start sneezing again if I went without it. But life without allergies is just a dream.

Molly tried to access my blog sometime yesterday. But she was only able to see it for a few seconds before she was redirected. Ha ha ha. Really starting to wonder if some of the questions that I would get on Ask were in fact from her and not from Kim. I guess I’ll never know for sure. Most of the time I don’t allow for anonymous questions.

Tom went to bed a while ago because he got up early. I’m not sure what I’m going to do now but I’ll probably just relax and watch some videos. Maybe I’ll even watch a movie or do some reading.

I’m up to 1996 as far as copying old journals over to Blogger goes. I also finished my glow-in-the-dark puzzle. So now I could put the new tablecloth on our round table. It’s not the greatest-looking thing but it looks a lot better than it did before with nothing at all on it.

Still looking forward to NaNoWriMo month. Part of me wishes it was time to get started now that it’s quiet. Earlier I heard kids screaming inside the house for the first time since we’ve been here. Hope this doesn’t become a regular thing. I didn’t come here to listen to screaming kids. I guess that’s just what we get for being on the edge of the park.