February 1997 in 1990s

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1997
Well, well, well. Guess who finally called and left a message? Fran. I’m like, oh fuck! I wonder still, what took him so long? It’s been just over 3 years and I’m still surprised he’d choose to harass Donna’s grandmother over me, even though she’s local and I’m not. Maybe he just lost the name and number and just found it or got it from someone. But who? Who would give him that info? Or maybe he just got long-distance service and before, he couldn’t use someone else’s phone.

Anyway, the bastard sounded like his usual self, acting as if nothing happened in the past, telling me the best time to call him, but not to harass him. Like I’d really want to? Like he’d be worth it? I didn’t write down his number cuz I didn’t care to know it, have it, or call him, but Andy wishes I’d saved it for his friend Donna to call him and give him a piece of her mind. I told Andy to tell her it won’t do her a damn bit of good, but yes, I’ll give her the number if he calls again and leaves it. I also told Tom to hang up without a word if he calls. I wonder, though, will he? He’s too damn nice and if he does talk to him, this will egg him on more. He said he may not recognize his voice right away. True. But hopefully, he’ll hang up without another word as soon as he does. I also asked him to save any messages he may leave and I told him why. Lastly, I told him to scrutinize our phone bills really well, in case he bills a call to us.

I sent a letter to the address I last knew Paula to be at, hoping it’d be forwarded to her. I also sent one to that friend of hers, too, hoping that if Paula didn’t get her letter, this Sylvia character could pass her letter on to her.

Now Tom’s become a bold liar. About a week ago, a chair in the back room was pulled out all the way, and I almost fell over as I ran into the room. I know I didn’t pull it out and he claims he didn’t. Then today…same thing. Certain things were rearranged on the computer table that I know I didn’t touch and he swears he didn’t. Oh, I see. Instead of saying he tries really hard, now it’s, I didn’t do it! Don’t look at me. I know nothing about it. I didn’t touch it.

Oh, brother!

He told me again that he wasn’t trying to instill patience in me. He’s simply compromising by doing part of what he wants and part of what I want. Oh, so is that why half the time he doesn’t push the footstool all the way in, turn the bathroom sink faucets off all the way, etc.? Is that also why he cums part-time and why we have sex part-time, while he says he wants more sex and that he’ll get off more often (when maybe he doesn’t really want/mean this), to cover up his compromising with me?

Marla’s finally back online. I went onto AOL late last night to check for mail and she was online, spotted me on her buddy list, then sent me an instant message. We chatted live for a few minutes, then went about our business. All’s OK with her and her family.

Oh also, Tom explained himself when I asked him, “Well, which is it? Why were you really tired? Cuz of me? Or cuz the phone rang?”

He told me he did want to get up when the phone rang at 4 PM, so he could do some things, but that he wouldn’t have gone to bed as late as noon if it hadn’t been for me talking. He said, “It’s not your fault, though. It’s a decision I made. I chose to listen to you.”

Later…

It’s too bad I know I can’t be pregnant, cuz get this - I never felt anything like what I felt earlier. It was the weirdest physical experience I ever had. They say that when your nipples tingle, it could be an early symptom of pregnancy. Well, back during the August incident, I had that. It was subtler than what I felt earlier. In the past, it felt more like a slight itch, than a tingle. I’ve had that every now and then, but never like a few hours ago. My right nipple tingled for about 4-5 seconds so fiercely. I mean it was so sharp, so obvious, that it startled me and made me jump. It felt like someone held a mini stun gun to me. A few hours later, which would be a short while ago, the left one started up. Less dramatic, but still obvious and it kind of felt like more than an itch-like sensation. Weird. Really weird. What’s also weird is how my tits aren’t sore. With all the coffee I’ve drunk, you’d think they would be, but the slight pre-cramps have already begun, fittingly, since I’ll be ragging in about a week.

Andy asked me if I had any vibes as to where he was on tour. I had no clue. Then I asked him if he had any vibes about my trip to Rugg. He said I have a small infection along a wall, but that can be cleared up easily. If I were in my early to mid-20s, I’d say, “What else is new?” However, it’s possible, but unlikely cuz I don’t feel any symptoms of any kind of infection down there. Nonetheless, if I do have one, yes, it can be cleared up easily enough.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1997
Things still aren’t too cool around here. I fucked up yesterday and poured my sorrows, worries, fears, and doubts out to Tom. Yes, he listened, but I’m still pissed at myself for not keeping my mouth shut. So far, that’s been one of those things that are easier said than done.

When I got up at 8:30, he was tired and grumpy. He said that the reason why he was that way was cuz we talked so late, but that he was not blaming me. Oh yeah, then why is it that I realized after he left for work that he told me he only slept from noon to 4:00 when the phone rang? He said he couldn’t get back to sleep. That’s not my fault. If the phone hadn’t rung, he could’ve slept from noon till 10:00 and had plenty of sleep. And he says he hates being blamed for things that aren’t his fault? Well, he says he doesn’t blame me for things and isn’t trying to put a guilt trip on me, but I don’t think so. He implies that things are my fault. What I really am to blame for, no matter what anyone says, is for talking.

I still really think he’s mostly talk and no action, as far as the things he says he’d like to do. Be it having more sex or whatever. I think that he too, is more afraid of change and hesitant about it than he’ll admit, and this is why I believe he likes to be tired and busy a lot of the time and he sets himself up to be so. I don’t think he wants to avoid me in general, but I think that he too, doesn’t want to have more sex, so he avoids it, all the while pinning the reasons why on me. I’m not saying that some of these reasons aren’t true and that I’m perfect and that I don’t love Tom and that I don’t want to be with him, but I’m so sick of this shit! They say everybody has faults, but I think he’s got about 3-4 faults that really bug me and even piss me off and he should work on them. I need to work on my faults too, and at least he hasn’t got hundreds of faults like most people do.

As far as my faults, it’s still the same thing. I’ve got to drill it through my thick head that dreams are dreams and reality is reality. We all have dreams that can’t come true. It isn’t just me who can’t get most of what she truly wants. It isn’t just me whose life hasn’t been what she wanted, planned or expected. What I’ve got to do is tell myself that having a kid is just a dream and that’s exactly what it should always remain as cuz of my schedule and cuz of how he’s too busy. We could never handle a kid. Not with the way I am, not with my screwy schedule, not with how he’s so often busy and tired. If we had a kid, he couldn’t help his mom out or do AMEX programs, stuff around the house, etc. for damn sure. And physically and mentally, I couldn’t take it.

I have so many wonderful things and cuz I’ve been so wrapped up in fantasy land, I haven’t been able to live life fully (even if this is it) and enjoy what I do have. I have more than enough. More than I need. More than most people will ever have. I didn’t expect, plan or try for Tom or the computers and other things, but I have them, they’re wonderful, and I’d never trade them for the world. I’ve also got to realize that due to the fact that life isn’t what we plan, expect, or try for, few women say they want a kid and then have one. If having a child weren’t a dream of mine, that would be different. Then we could probably have one, but kids are for those who don’t want them, think about them, or plan, expect and try for them. I can’t expect to be any different. The singing never happened, not that that upsets me anymore, cuz it was something I planned, wanted and tried for. The things that happen, like Tom, like the computers, are the things we don’t consider, plan and try for. Or even think we’d want. Even Tom said that most people either don’t get their dreams or don’t get them the way they expected/wanted. Or, people are afraid to admit their dreams or try for them. Well, I’m certainly one of those who is afraid to try for it and see a doctor. It’s wrong. It’s a dream. And that’s where it’ll stay. We don’t have the time and mentality for a child and I’ve got more than I could ever need or want already. I need to “Norahtize” this dream. What I mean by this is that when I fantasize about Norah and I, it’s always been just that - a fantasy. Not anything I’d ever want to or care to or try to make a reality. But it’s a fun thing to think about and fantasize about and it’s OK. That’s what I need to do with the kid in order to live much more happily and peacefully. Have fun thinking/fantasizing about it, be OK with that, but know that that’s not a reality. It has never been a reality and it never can or will be a reality.

Also, he agrees with me, that the Aerobid is what’s been causing my weight gain, but he doesn’t think the weird periods and the Aerobid are connected. He thinks it’s just a coincidence. I thought he thought it was my body “trying to change and get pregnant?” Anyway, his theory about my periods is about as off the wall as me conceiving or expecting to find a UFO out in our yard. If it’s not God teasing me and playing around with my body, or a bad reaction to his cum, it is the Aerobid and my first guess is yes, it’s the Aerobid. It says it causes menstrual disturbances.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1997
Here we go again doing for others, but not for us. Putting others first. Tom’s gonna fix a leak in his Mom’s car. Fine. Great. What about the broken AC in our car? How far are we gonna have to get into the summer before he fixes it?

After he woke me up twice (once from snoring and then from talking in his sleep), I got up. Then he got up a couple of hours later and apologized for last night. He said he’s sorry, he’s not perfect, he does make mistakes, he didn’t express himself well, and he doesn’t want me to feel I can’t talk to him. Well, I’m sorry. I appreciate his apology, but talk to him? Hell no. He can’t handle it. He’s much too intelligent, also, to have expressed himself so poorly. I think this is another one of his sly, clever, cunning cover-ups, but I know better. He said and did just what he wanted. He didn’t want to hear what I had to say, even though I wasn’t blowing up, and he made me feel worse for it. He needs a major lesson in asking someone what’s wrong when he really doesn’t want to hear it. If he can’t handle the answer he gets and that he asked for, I don’t wish to talk to him about this subject again. I’m mad at myself too, for bringing it up. I should’ve known better, as I’ve said before. It even takes me a few times around to learn lessons, but I didn’t make the mistake of showing him my journal. I told him I had to write him up about all this and he said, “Well, of course,” in a sarcastic, knowing, yet funny way. I even asked him if he wanted to hear it, just to see what he’d say. He said no, not really, but if I needed to read it to him, OK. Yeah right! I don’t think so.

I still wonder occasionally, is he reading my journals? Did he stall on reading some of my stuff in the past, or today, to make it look like he wasn’t too eager to when he really is and is reading them? Or is it cuz he secretly keeps up on what I write, isn’t very fond of what I write, and that’s why he’s not so eager? Maybe he’s already read it and doesn’t want to read or hear it again. Although, wouldn’t most spouses be curious to read what their other half was writing about? Especially about them?

Once again, there’s no use in either talking calmly or blowing up over something that can’t be changed. I was never fated to have a child. All the bitching and crying and talking in the world can’t and won’t change that. And we can’t run to a doctor and expect to fight God and win. No person or doctor can interfere with God’s so-called work. He never heard my prayers. Never has. Never will. If I was heard at all by anything up there, it was no God. There’s either nothing up there or something not too good at all up there.

Things really are never going to change in any major kind of way. All those wonderful, surprising, unexpected events that happened from 1992-1994 were truly the end of the line. The party’s over. This is it. This is where I shall always remain. This is what’s meant to be. This is reality. There’ll be no career. There’ll be no child. This is it. I’ve peaked. This is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing; what I’ve been doing for the last few years. Nothing more. Nothing less.

When Robin gave me that bullshit line about 3-4 good things to come this year and a major change coming in a month, well, I wonder if one of these good things consists of my folks coming out? They may have sounded more serious than ever before, but I won’t believe it till I see them out here. Our talk the other day may have been just that - talk.

Tom and I did screw earlier, though. He didn’t cum and I knew he wouldn’t. For some reason, I can always tell when he’s gonna cum and when he’s not. I still wonder at times, did he really have a problem preventing him from cumming (positioning) up till last July? Or did he hold off till then? Could he now really cum almost every time we have sex? Or is he deliberately keeping it to about once every week and a half to two weeks? Well, if he’s ever been dishonest about something pertaining to sex, he’ll just boldly tell me he hasn’t lied about whatever, and he knows that’s all he has to do. I can’t prove otherwise. So, if there’s anything else he hasn’t leveled with me on, be it in the past or the present, I’ll never know. My husband’s too smart, too realistic and too logical to possibly believe I’m fertile. This is what makes me believe he may not want to come out and say so, cuz maybe he’d feel like he was slugging me with a hatchet if he did. He knows how much a child means to me, but can anything anyone ever said change God’s precious little work? No. Believe me, if I could know the answers to all my fears, doubts and worries, I’d want to know the answers so I could have an easier time moving on. Even though he hasn’t cum too often since last July, we should’ve hit it right by now. I’m curious to see what he does, though, from here on out. Will he put his actions where his mouth is and have more sex, if he really wants this kid as bad as I do, thinks I’m fertile and feels the same void I do? That just got me thinking about the possibility that maybe he’s trying to keep his amount of cumming down so we don’t find out so soon who’s right and who’s wrong, so he doesn’t have to deal with it if he’s wrong. Or have to see me have to deal with it. Why stall something like that, though? Is that where the instilling patience game comes in?

So many questions. Never any answers. I’m powerless. Powerless to get a job. Powerless to get pregnant. Powerless to be happy with the way things are. No matter what I think of, no matter what ideas I get, no matter how hard I try - I’m powerless. Something up there wants me to be powerless. Well, I’m not unhappy about the way things are, but I’m not happy about the way things are and I never will be. I believe I’ll always feel that incomplete void and miss never having a child.

Andy called yesterday and read me the article on the two Larrys’ accident. Judy sent it to him. It didn’t really tell me any more than I already know, but he’s gonna give it to me and when he does, I’ll copy it in here.

Later…

I like to watch reruns of old shows and an occasional movie, but Jesus fucking Christ! You can’t get through a set of commercials that don’t mention pregnancy, childbirth, etc. It’s like God’s aiming it at me, teasing me, taunting me. It’s everywhere! Yesterday I taped a movie so I could scan over the 4 or more baby/pregnancy/pregnancy test-related commercials (that doesn’t help a sterile woman feel any better to have rubbed in her face what she dreams of and what she cannot have). Then later, I went to turn on the TV just for a second to set up the timer for the second part of a movie, and what was there? A news report on the morning-after pill. Then I go fire up AOL to see if I have any mail, and what’s right in front of my face on the main menu? Oh, just a name guide for expectant parents. God’s shoving this in my face just like he did with males. The pattern, or reasons I should say, don’t fit. It doesn’t make sense, though. He shoved males in my face, cuz he was telling me and showing me all along that I wasn’t meant to be with a woman but rather a man. So, since I know he’s not trying to tell me I should be a mother, I feel like it’s got to be a tease. How amazing God weaves this world together and its people and its events in such a cruel, sick and unfair way. He has baby/kids everywhere in a time when their world is so liberal. He has baby/kid messages swarming all over the TV. Just in time for me to be, shall I say, at the peak of my sterility crisis. I don’t need any more rub-ins. I don’t need any more reminders. I can’t even walk into a store, a doctor’s office, anyplace, without seeing a magazine or bulletin board about something that’s got to do with pregnancy and childbirth. I asked myself if I just notice these things more due to being at the peak of this ordeal, but I don’t think so. I’m not imagining this. I didn’t imagine all those women who rejected me or all those males who hit on me.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1997
I’ve got good news and bad news, but I’ll get the bad news out of the way first.

I’m so sick of Tom getting me all confused, frustrated and even angry. I’m fed up with his contradictions. I’m fed up with him saying one thing in one breath and then something just the opposite in the next breath. Will he ever make up his mind and stick to it? Will he ever make up his mind as to how I can act, be, feel or what I can say? The story’s changing all the time and to be frank, I’m pretty damn sick of it.

He told me that my expressing my depression over not having a child and my fears and doubts about it is fine, it’s when I blow up about it that turns him off and puts him in a not-so-good mood. Well, which is it? For fuck’s sake, which is it?! I still really wonder if he doesn’t like playing with my head and putting guilt trips on me. I wish he’d stop jerking me around and stop trying to change me, while he denies doing this. Does he get a kick out of this? Another thing that makes me wonder about him is how he said he knew it’d make me mad, but he wanted to get a home pregnancy test for me, then he proceeded to tell me why. That’s fine, but if he knew it’d make me mad or upset me in any way, why’d he bring it up then? If I can’t express anything I feel or want why is it OK for him to?

It started when I was lying on the couch in a bummed mood. It showed, I guess, cuz when he came out of the shower, he asked what was wrong. All I said, in a calm tone of voice was, “I’m bummed out cuz I didn’t conceive this month and I’m still afraid I’m sterile.”

Then he goes on to say that just cuz I didn’t conceive this month, doesn’t mean I can’t some other month. First of all, how did he know I didn’t conceive like I know? He did say we can’t know for sure, but for the most part, he seems to agree with me, as if he too, has the same sixth sense I do.

Anyway, the point of it is, is then he got all upset and frustrated, implying and making me feel like I was burdening him by being upset, wasting our time for life and sex, and that we haven’t had sex enough for me to go making a big deal out of it and that getting pregnant isn’t something I should even consider when we screw. It should be just for fun, he says, and it is for fun, but how can I not make a big deal out of something that is a big deal to me? And how can I not consider getting pregnant when we have sex? What, does he think I am a little switch that can control what’s a big deal to me and what I consider? Wasn’t it him that said to accept myself as a whole emotionally? He said to accept my feelings. And wasn’t it him who said we weren’t switches? How can I make my thoughts, feelings, emotions, and beliefs any different than what they are? I can’t help what’s a big deal to me and what I consider, want or hope for. I admit I haven’t always handled these feelings or moods too well, but I did nothing wrong tonight. He asked me what was wrong. I told him.

And as far as us not having lots of sex as he mentions. It’s true. We don’t have lots of sex, but as far as I’m concerned, this is a decision he made and that he himself only made. It’s almost like he’s trying to put a guilt trip on me with that and like he won’t give me sex, depending on what I’m saying, feeling, or being. Can I ever say, feel or do anything that doesn’t turn him off? Everything turns him off. Well, if this is the case, I will be a little switch then, keep my mouth shut, not look sad, not have it be a big deal to me and not consider a kid when we screw. This is what he wants, so if this is how I have to be and act to please him, I guess I don’t have a choice then. I’m tired of fighting with him. I’m tired of him having me feel worse when I’m already in a bad mood. I’m tired of his changing his story as to what is OK and acceptable for me to say, feel and be when I’m around him. He may as well come out and say, “Be a good little girl and I’ll give you more sex. Act, feel and say what I want you to and then there’ll be nothing to fight about and feel worse about.”

Never before have I ever been more reluctant to talk to him. I almost feel, now, that he’s not good enough to talk to and certainly not worth it. He says it’s OK and that he can handle it. Bull fucking shit! I’m sick of shit happening like what happened yesterday, too. Teasingly I said I’ve just got to see him get off when he just did so only 3 days earlier. He didn’t get off, as I figured, and then he blamed it on me by saying he tried too hard and that he was “too challenged.” Oh please! If someone’s really that horny and wants to get off that bad, they can. He just wasn’t in the mood, was too tired, and he knew it.

Well, I’ll be his good little girl, give him what he wants, cuz I can’t and won’t take this bullshit from him ever again. I’m sick of him denying things he says, exaggerating, changing stories, and pinning his problems or actions on me, making me feel like I’m the one to blame. Then when I confront him with something, he turns it into an attack on me, says I’m the one that did what I accused him of doing, or denies doing what I accused him of doing, or tries to justify what I accused him of doing, then fights with me.

Maybe in 5 years, when he still sees I’m not able to conceive, and if he suggests seeing a doctor, I should tell him, “What’s the big deal? If you didn’t mention it just now, I would’ve been pregnant, but now I don’t even want to have sex with you that much. You’re burdening me, turning me off and it’s your fault.” Then see how he likes it. Of course, contrary to what he says, in 5 years, he’ll still say I’m OK and that we still just didn’t hit it right, cuz we didn’t have sex enough and cuz of the way I am.

Another thing I’m sick of is how he gets all hot and bothered at something I didn’t hear him say or didn’t understand and I get accused of not listening or caring or deliberately twisting his words. Yet when I politely ask him to put something back in its place or whatever, he doesn’t do it and he ignores me as if he didn’t hear or listen to a damn word I said. He told me he meant it when he said I could blame him for anything. Stuff like a gang shoot-out in another state. Then he said he hoped I’d take it upon myself to not blame him for things he didn’t do. Well, I meant it when I told him he could ignore my requests, but had hoped he’d take it upon himself to listen and to care enough. Not do it only half the time, then say he tries his best when I know he’s too intelligent for that. This is a major obsession with him. That and instilling patience in me, etc. It makes me want to hang up sex again. I mean, I’m just tired of the fucking complications that go with it and tired of this never-ending bullshit. He won’t end this bullshit, so I guess I’m gonna have to, by doing what I said I’d do. If I just be a good girl, then I won’t have to put up with his contradictions and his ways of making me feel when I get upset and express myself. Then, he’ll have to think of some other thing I’m doing or some other reason as to why we can’t have lots of sex.

Later…

Now my typical weight is 106-108. Shit! Fuck! Damn!

OK, here’s the good news. Well, I think that for the first time since I’ve been here, my parents are about as serious as can be about coming out here. They called right after I got their package, which was really nice. They sent about 7 flags. A parrot, flowers, Snoopy, ballet slippers and a musical one. This is the same musical one I once had and really liked, but storms tattered it. The ballet one is gorgeous. Much more so than the catalog showed, cuz it’s not only got colors and a subject I like but it’s got pink glittery lines throughout it and it’s really pretty.

They also sent a way better and sturdier pole of metal, a metal bracket, some makeup and nail polish and a matching necklace and bracelet.

Then they asked me if we’d discussed what we were going to do for his vacation. I told them that I was just about to tell them in my letter to them that I’d let them know where we stood at the end of March. She said not to change our CA plans for them, which was nice, then I told them that it’s not that we’d never get out there, but I really wanted them to come out here. Then Dad asked me how I felt about them coming separately. Fine. In fact, that’s better. Gives me more time alone with each of them. Naturally, Ma would drive out and Dad would fly out. They really liked the golf course (Castles & Coasters) that they saw on the video we shot and sent them. They also would stay in a motel. That’d make us all feel more comfortable. Dad asked which one of them I wanted out first.

“You,” I said.

Then we were teasing Ma about how Dad and I get along better and I commented on how Dad and I have more in common. She agreed. There was more joking around when Dad said to take care of Ma when she came out. Oh yeah, we’ll chain her to the bottom of the pool. I also told Dad that maybe we could stop at Andy’s house or have him come over here. Or, I can use all that makeup Ma sent to dress him up in drag and send him over there. Then I said to flip a coin and decide who came out first. They told me to flip a coin, then to pick who was heads and who was tails. Dad was tails and that’s exactly what I flipped (no lie). Then Dad said that if he came first, he’d just be able to bring a suitcase of clothes, but Ma would be able to pack a lot of goodies for me. So, I told them to choose what month they came out and who went first, while I had Tom check into motels with a restaurant and a pool that was nearby and on the first floor.

I hope that when they’re here, they’ll patiently let me show them all the things I want to show them. And I hope this is it, too, and that they’re seriously gonna come out here.

They say the best time for them to come out is during their tourist season which is from around April till late September.

Dad asked, “What do you wear out there in the summer? Little things, skimpy things?”

I reminded him that I’m not so little anymore, but yeah, I can still wear short shorts and halter tops, camisoles, tanks, etc. It depends on where I am and who’s around.

I think that’s it as far as my nice chat with my folks goes and again, if I remember anything else, I’ll jot it down.

Andy left a message last night saying he was totally into the journal, is already up to July and doesn’t want it to end. This makes me happy to hear.

Later…

Another thing that pisses me off about Tom is how he said he’d get his faucet washers from his ma’s place to put on our kitchen one that leaks really bad, but did he get them when he was over there yesterday? No, of course not. I wish he’d do for us what he does for others. I mean, he’ll do a thorough job, non-stop, on time for others, but not for us.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1997
I tried to call the book renewal number, but it’s busy. Guess they must be doing their routine repairs on the system.

A part of me has regrets about the fun we had the other day and the fun we’re gonna have when Tom gets off work (of course, I don’t know if he’ll cum, but if he does, he’s broken a record and that’ll be the quickest he’s cum before a previous get off). The part of it that depresses me, is that I know I’m gonna get some kind of period and I know I shouldn’t. Not if I were OK. An OK woman shouldn’t be getting a period in about a week and an OK woman should’ve been pregnant by now. He says, “Well, maybe we’ll get lucky tonight and instead of talking about it, let’s give it an honest shot.” I want to and if he can cum, great, but I still know I’m gonna get my period and that God will never change his mind and allow us a child. I’ve prayed every day for days now, but I still sense and fear, I’m either being unheard or ignored.

I decided that even if I am ragging on the 5th, I’ll still see Rugg about the Aerobid and see what can be done. He feels that I’ll be OK and that I will get some answers about why I’ve gained weight when none of my eating or life habits have changed, but he isn’t sure if I’ll not be ragging on the 5th (if I get a period, as he says). The hard part is gonna be to keep it together as the PMS sets in, further enhancing my emotions about never being able to have a child. And this guy here! He still insists he’s 100% sure we’re gonna have a kid. How can my husband, of all people, be so blind and so naïve?

He said it’s best not to decide whether or not to mention to Rugg that we’ve been trying for a kid till I get there and see how the conversation flows. I still don’t know if I can get up the guts to mention it. I’m just too afraid of what God would do to me or to us for it and there’s no point. You can’t fight fate/God.

I’m so sick of AOL being busy so much of the time. They’ve already paid out 24 million dollars in lawsuits. They have the money to make it more accessible, but they’d rather use the money to pay out lawsuits than to get more phones.

Bunny’s been terrorizing Piggy. Not to hurt him. They both really do love each other, but he’s just being a bully. He tramples him when he runs across the cage and he sticks his head in Piggy’s house and Piggy screams at him to leave him alone. Piggy hates it when he goes charging towards him, cuz it scares him, cuz Bunny’s 3 times his size.

Bunny also doesn’t seem to like Tom very much. He’s kicked him, tried to bite him, clawed at him, and earlier, Tom says he charged him. He didn’t do anything to him, though.

I reactivated my auto-saver now that we’re not crashing all the time like we used to.

Later…

Just did some singing and soon I’ll do some reading and work more on Jen’s envelopes.

I hope that my package gets here tomorrow, but I’d say it’s more likely to get here Tuesday or Wednesday.

Little Miss Joely and her kid have been here all weekend, but they’ve been quiet, indoors and haven’t had any company. Wait till the weather warms up, though. The only time he was there was for about half an hour last Friday night.

I still can’t get onto AOL. Tom and I ought to sue them and get our fair share. They’d obviously rather pay their money on lawsuits, instead of more phones, anyway.

Tom went to see Ma and Steven. Both are doing well. Steven will be flying back to California on Tuesday.

I wonder what Larry thought of my idea to set Tammy up and give her a piece of his mind. Probably what I figured he’d think of it - funny to think about it, but not worth the bother of doing it.

OK, I can’t think of anything else to say, so I’m gonna go do something else now.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1997
From the looks of my chart, it looks like I was mid-cycle a day earlier than I said I thought I was. Anyway, I conquered my fears, doubts and worries and we had sex early this morning. We both got off big time. I know, though, I’m just kidding myself about the thought of God answering my prayers, even though I can’t see much of a period at all for early March. I just hope I’m not ragging, even if it’s spots on the 5th, cuz then I’ll have to cancel Rugg.

I think I found the culprit as to what’s really screwed up my periods and put so much water on me. The Aerobid inhaler I take. It says that that’s one of its side effects, too, so I’ll talk to the doctor about it and see what they say. If only I could just not get my period at all and be pregnant, then I’d have a good reason to be fat, but I’m not gonna kid myself. Just dream about it and wish it could be true.

Now here’s something amazing, but nice. Since I got up at around 3:00 or 4:00 PM, I haven’t heard any dogs at all. It’s been a peaceful late afternoon, early evening, and now late evening.

I began to decorate a new round of envelopes for Jen.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1997
Wow. The Jeep came in next door and I didn’t hear it. I had just checked outside about a half-hour ago to see if there was a slight chance my package could be there and there was no Jeep. Then I looked one last time and there was the Jeep. Just when I thought I’d never see that thing again, too. I hope they won’t be here all weekend. I’ll be asleep till the late afternoon, but still, I hope they won’t suddenly decide to party after all this time or blast music. I doubt it, though. They seem to have fallen into a pattern over the last several months and my guess is that they’ll take off tomorrow and the Jeep won’t be around for another series of days or weeks.

The fact that I no longer have to worry about the bass and can go to bed without worrying and don’t have to worry about parties, screaming, ball games, is such a relief. The amount of relief is tremendous. The last several months have been the quietest since I’ve been here, omitting the two dogs that have barked on and off since I’ve been here. Also, I don’t know for sure what pattern this little trailer dog will fall into yet, either.

Nevertheless, if next door could be here and be the way they’ve been since last October, till we move, I’d be thrilled! Also, I don’t think their place really is for rent. If it were for rent, why are they still there, even if they’re not there very often? You’d think it wouldn’t be for rent till they moved and then you’d think I’d see and hear the city, or whoever, come in to clean it and fix it up. I just hope things stay the way they have been, but again, this is too good to be true and it’s bound to end any time now. Then I guess God will have to decide whether he wants to give me ball-playing, screaming kids, dogs or bass.

Speaking of God, is he going to change his mind and let me conceive this weekend? Yes, I do ask stupid questions, don’t I?

I’m still nervous about this weekend cuz I’m in that time frame now. My guess is that I’m pretty sure he won’t cum. I’ve come to realize something about Tom. Yes, he may really truly believe we’ll have a kid, just like he believes he’s gonna do this and that around the house or whatever, but it’s just one of those things that always gets talked about, but not done. I also can see, like I’ve said before, that when it’s too late to conceive, he’ll just say we never got around to it for such reasons as time or timing, just like with other things. He’ll never admit he or we couldn’t get me pregnant or do other household projects cuz of something wrong with us. It’ll be cuz of life itself.

I also realized something about me. That even if I were OK and he came more than enough, this brain of mine would never be able to get my body to conceive. What I mean by this, is how our psychological and emotional state is so connected to our physical state and vice versa. With my mind racing the way it usually does and my hyperness and ADD, I don’t see how a person like me could relax enough to conceive in the first place. So, if I weren’t a DES daughter, I’d consider this as a damn good reason for sterility, in spite of what’s God’s will and fated to be.

I also get a bit nervous as we get closer to March 5th. I just hope he’s right and that I’m OK. I also hope I won’t need to do this 3 times and believe me, I won’t. Lastly, I hope to hell I’m not ragging then. If I’m on a 28-day cycle this month, then I should be mid-cycle today and not ragging till the 7th. As far as I can see, he’s never cum 14 days prior to a period. If he had, that’d really spell sterility loud and clear. It seems that something’s determined to make us miss it, but why? There’s nothing to miss, cuz I’m still not even sure my eggs do pop out OK and that I ovulate. Still, if you told someone that a woman’s man cums in her about every two weeks for the last 8 months, the first question would be, “How come she didn’t get pregnant? She should’ve by now.” No one can keep missing it like that unless something is wrong and unless that isn’t meant to be.

I don’t know if we have extra money for this now, but I’m also glad Tom won’t be getting a pregnancy test at the end of this month. How do I know this? I just know Tom. 90% talk.

I don’t believe this! I can hear that fucking trailer dog. But the trailer’s not even there. I don’t know what went on this morning or what time the trailer left, but the trailer hasn’t been there since I’ve been up and I got up at 2:30. I hope to hell that the trailer people didn’t give this dog to that guy. That guy already has a dog, though. Why don’t people out here allow their dogs in their houses?! He’s just your typical non-caring neighbor. No, typical non-caring person. I’ll bet that due to people’s obsession with being opposite-doers and their obsessions with pushing their noise (of different sources) onto others, he’ll go out of his way to have the dog bark more often. I should’ve known better. I wouldn’t be surprised if the trailer people gave him their dog just so he could stick it on me. That’s desperately sick!

A couple of other things: Tom picked Steven up at the airport today. He’ll be with Mom at her house, so she won’t be stopping here this weekend.

The Jeep left again and it left quietly.

Later…

I just had a weird idea, in which weird events followed. I feel stupid admitting this, and I’m surprised at myself, but I’ve been steadily praying to God again for a child. Tom and others said that sometimes you have to ask God for something over and over in order to up your chances of getting it. It was his answering my prayer about trapping Gizzy that inspired me, even though I’m sure I’d have caught Gizzy without praying. I’ve been praying to God, telling him that I just couldn’t seem to help us, that we haven’t had any luck on our own, and that we need his help. We need him to help us help ourselves. Also, I knew he had the power to make sure that the next time my husband had an orgasm, to make sure one of his sperm fertilized one of my eggs, plant it in my uterus, and leave it there for 9 months. Lastly, I told him that it seemed that this is what we’re going to need him to do to help us, then it’s all up to us to take it from there and that that’s just what we’d do.

Anyway, I got an idea and told God a little while ago that I promised not to write letters to or speak to noisy neighbors about their music, kids or dogs ever again and that I promised to try to be a better person if he’d let my husband and I have the child we so desperately want. I told him that I understand that he gives most of the world children without expecting anything in return and that if I needed to earn and even deserve a child, so be it. I figured that it may make a difference in his eyes if I were to give something in order to hope to get something from him for I am not most people who have kids handed to them on a silver platter. If I have to be one of those who has to try, to beg, to give, fine.

Then I realized that maybe the dog being back and starting up was a present from God for me praying and then I said to myself, “Uh-oh. You screwed up and just sunk yourself big time. The reason for the dog’s return is cuz you prayed to God and you know he doesn’t like you or like to hear from you.”

So then I sat down and I told God what I suspected and that I knew that he had his mind made up about that, whether or not I prayed, whether or not Tom came a lot or a little. I told him then that I’d go out back and that if I heard the dog, I’d take it as his way of saying, “You’re right. I don’t like you, don’t want to hear from you, I’m not on your side and I’ll never give you anything you really want badly, no matter what.”

Then I told him that if I didn’t hear the dog, I’d take it as his way of saying, “I do like you. I do hear you. I am on your side and maybe I’ll even grant you yours and your husband’s dream.”

So, I then got up and went out back. All was silent. I said to myself that I’d give it a few minutes. So I stood in the chilly, yet beautiful night, with the moon shining brightly and with the stars twinkling above me and I realized that I could just be playing a game with myself and having another one of those wishful thinking attacks, or this could be as real as I wished and hoped it was. Guess time will tell.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1997
Gizzy’s back in the aquarium again. I realized that it was more than him just following instinct by chewing on the plastic air vents of the new cage, he was trying to tell me he wanted out of there. He couldn’t use the wheel in that cage cuz it’d jam up and he always loved the wheel he used in the aquarium. So I said to myself, “I bet he misses his old wheel and would love to return to his old cage. He could jump up onto the screen and chew his way out of his old cage, but I bet he won’t if he misses that cage and his old wheel as much as I think he does.”

So I put him back in his old cage and sure enough, he ran right to his wheel and has been there ever since. I’d come to suspect he may not have been too happy in the other cage and was right, being the rodent expert that I am. In the other cage, he’d just sit in the tube when he wasn’t sleeping, eating, or trying to chew his way out. He’s totally come back to life and he seems much happier.

There’s a car next door now that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before, but not a sound from over there.

I’ll write more after I grab a bite to eat.

Later…

I just made pork chops and potatoes for us.

He went to bed at about 1 PM and I’ve got to wake him up by 8 PM. Of course, if we have sex and he cums, I’ve got to worry about how it’ll foul up my system and my next period. Then again, as I may have said before, he may have nothing to do with this and somehow, I wouldn’t be too shocked if I had a weird rag, even if he didn’t get off at this point on forward. I wonder what he’s gonna do, though? I was honest and expressed how our having sex during mid-cycle makes me more nervous, so we’ll see what he does. Maybe he’ll screw me at those times, but make sure he doesn’t cum. Or maybe he’ll try harder to cum to get me used to it and not so nervous about it.

Andy was here last night, as I said. His reaction to the journal was classic. I gave him the barrettes for Laura, the NPNs to mail, showed him stuff around the house, gave him his soap puzzle book, then handed him the journal. He looked at it with a bit of confusion on his face, then said, “This is cool, but how do you expect me to fill these pages? I haven’t even done the one I got a while back…”

Then, “Oh my God!” as he saw that the book was already filled up and that I had written it for him. So he was pleased and I hope he enjoys it.

Andy and I had coffee and chatted and he did some Stevie research on AOL. He was here for 1.5 hours.

I wish Andy were sober more often. He’s so ditzy and air-headed when he’s stoned and doesn’t remember shit. He does have a better memory than most people, but his could be better if he didn’t smoke pot. He’s too smart for me to have to explain things over and over to him and for him to not remember so much of what I tell him. And it’s frustrating, too.

I did Tom a favor and took the garbage out, but that’s also cuz it stunk and I wanted to bring out a few other things that he would either not bring out or would bring out in a month. I ditched the 3 flower baskets that Ma gave us, cuz they kicked the bucket. I also went through my old mugs, which have been replaced by the new dog/cat collection and picked out 5 mugs that I ditched. I had had them for 10-15 years. One of them was a mug that Jenny C got me about 10-12 years ago.

Later…

Oh, fuck! Guess who’s back next door? No, not the freeloaders, the trailer. To the other side of us. About a half-hour ago, I heard that dog. Only for a second and when I peeked out front, I saw someone walking it. That tells me something right there. That if they’d let that dog go off for even a second at that hour, I’ll hear it just as much as I did, if not more. Thank God these trailer people don’t live there and are only there periodically. In fact, I’m surprised they were gone for as long as they were. Also, I hope to hell they take off in the morning and don’t come back till after sundown, as they do a lot when they’re here.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1997
Tom’s still working, believe it or not, and he should be home any minute now. He’ll be going in tonight later.

It really fucking pisses me off that I can’t even have the back door open for the fresh air and have any peace in doing so. I really wish someone would shoot those dogs. Even with the fan on I can hear the fucking things. There’ll just never be any peace from dogs around here, but again, it sure beats screaming kids, balls bouncing, and even more so, that bass.

At 8 PM last night, I heard someone get dropped off next door and saw lights on. It was probably her and the kid being dropped off by her dad. Maybe that house isn’t for rent and the dickhead’s just not been around too much for whatever reason.

A few days ago, we tried getting Bunny in his harness. The body part fits fine, but the neck part is still too big, so he slipped that part down onto his body. Tom had quite a time untangling him and Buns wasn’t too happy about it. After he freed him, he started to bite his toe, but Tom pulled away just in time.

There were a couple of other animal happenings around here too, but first let me get a couple of other things out of the way.

Robin recently told me that in about a month or so, a major change would be taking place. She said not to worry, though, it’s not bad. It’ll be OK.

Well, it is only a matter of days before the shit hits the fan again, isn’t it? And if it doesn’t hit the fan in a bad way, there’ll be something hectic going on that’ll steal our time away. Although, as I get closer to mid-cycle, I’m starting to get more nervous and I don’t really want him getting off around that time. I don’t want any bad or weird reactions to it (although both of us wouldn’t be surprised if I didn’t get a normal period, anyway). Nevertheless, I still feel a child isn’t meant to be and that it should remain as it is - just a dream, as much as we do want a child. Not all fears were meant to be conquered, sterile or not. I just don’t want any problems and if I could get pregnant, I’ll just lose it before 3-4 months are up, anyway, so what’s the point of setting myself up for such a situation to occur?

Tom feels that the way my periods have been since last summer is normal and he says he’s surprised they were as predictable as they had been for about 12 years. He said he thinks my body’s just in a typical reproductive state and says that he’s known women whose rags were just like mine are now before they had kids. He also says it’s common for women to skip periods or be two weeks late and is surprised I don’t go through this, too. Well, it just goes to show how abnormal my female parts really are.

Also, Larry says that little Larry may not have been the one who carved those wooden rabbits, which I guess is on its way. So, as I warned Tom, we may be getting a “fraud rabbit.”

In animal news, Gizzy escaped last night, as I had put a piece of screen over one of his tubes to stop him from chewing the plastic cap that was there. It’d drive me crazy and I could hear it all through the house. He chewed right through the screen, cuz it was fiberglass material and not metal. I set the trap up and realized God would be much more likely to send me my mouse back, then to give me a child, so I told God, “I know this isn’t exactly the most appropriate thing to pray for, but please send my mouse into the trap.”

I was a bit worried he’d really smartened up and wouldn’t go to it, but more of me did feel he’d go to it. He did, thank God. God actually answered a prayer of mine! So, Gizzy’s back home and I put a cap over the tube and secured it was duct tape. Hopefully, he won’t break out of this, but I highly doubt it.

Then yesterday, a small bird of some kind was hurt. He tried to fly away, but he just crashed right back down. I put him in the old birdcage that’s in the outside patio room. He fluttered a bit and it looked like his wings or legs or both, were injured. Then I called my folks. Dad answered and I asked if he had any advice for me, since he’s got a small bird. He said, from what I described, there was probably nothing I could do. He got that one right. The bird died while we were on the phone. I put it in a bag after I hung up from Dad, and then Tom brought him out to the dumpster when he got home.

Dad brought up that dreaded subject. He said they still really want us out there and that they’d spring for the tickets. Oh, brother! I really don’t want to go. Then he said that if we couldn’t get there, they’d have to make arrangements to come out here. Right! I told him we already discussed CA in May when he has a week’s vacation, but weren’t even sure if we could do that. Not with the way there’s always something going on. There’ll be a 50/50 chance of us getting to FL, CA or anywhere. I’d rather they come here and deal with us on our turf. Tom did say he’d like to go to CA. I told Tom that I didn’t want to go to FL, and he said OK, then we won’t go. I asked him to think about it and, omitting what I think and want, tell me what he thinks and wants.

Later…

Andy will supposedly be here at 6:30, but I hope he isn’t full of it. I don’t want him to show up at 8:00.

Dad also told me I had another package on its way. He says it’ll be here tomorrow, but I don’t think they realize how slow UPS is. I expect it next Monday or Tuesday.

I was gonna go out back, but fuck that shit. It’s far from peaceful with those fucking dogs. They sound like they’re right there in the yard with me.

I had a weird experience last night. Tom was in the bathroom putting his contacts in, and I was at my work table. I work facing the wall where the kitchen doorway is. It’s a few feet to my left. I know I heard someone walk up to the doorway and let out a slight sigh. It wasn’t Tom, though. After he left for work and until I crashed, I had a feeling something was in here. I don’t know what it was, though.

Someone’s mowing out there now. It’s been nearly 80º lately, so the grass isn’t as dormant around here. Gosh, I never thought I’d live where grass is mowed in February!

When Andy comes over, I’ll be giving him NPNs to mail and his presents. And 4 barrettes for Laura. I’ll also show him my latest drawings, the pictures, and Gizzy’s new cage. He wants to see how the trap works.

Right now Gizzy’s holding and cleaning his tail. It’s so cute.

Tom went to bed at around 2:00. I have to get him up by 10:00.

Again, something’s gonna come up and it might as well be now. Now’s good timing, cuz I’d really prefer it if he didn’t screw me or get off for about a week. Well, he recently got off, so maybe he’s still spent from that.

I’m gonna start one of the journals Andy got me for my birthday now. The paper’s pretty slick in it, though, so hopefully my markers won’t get smudged like crazy.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1997
Two nights ago I had an excellent talk with my brother. We talked about so much and I could tell it was the first time since Larry died, that he really poured his feelings out. They should talk to each other and I hope they do and I’m glad to hear he’s not working as much, but sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t going through the exact same thing.

He mostly talked about how he’s pissed off at Tammy, and even kind of pissed off at Mom and Dad. I agreed with, can relate to, can understand everything he said. The only thing we don’t agree on is my belief that if we had a child who died, they wouldn’t come out here. He thinks they would. That’s what Tom thinks, too.

He wasn’t too thrilled at all about Tammy and Bill going to the hospital (I didn’t know Bill went, too). He called Dad the morning it happened, so he was pissed at Mom and Dad for telling Tammy to go to the hospital and to go to his in-law’s house in E. Longmeadow. I don’t know if they told her to go to the hospital, but he was pissed that she went there, cuz as he said, he hates Tammy, thinks she’s a loud, boisterous, phony, lying, exaggerating, asshole, and he doesn’t want to see her or to talk to her on the phone. He says he regrets going to see her and admits he only did it to please Mom and Dad. He said I, on the other hand, had a lot of problems in the past, but have turned into a good person. Yeah, well, I reminded him that I’m still not perfect.

What he complained about Mom, Dad, and Tammy saying/doing is nothing new. It’s something I’ve seen, heard, and dealt with, too, and I let him know that if I ever dumped Mom, Dad, and Tammy, it’s got nothing to do with him. Just like I told Lisa that if her mom and I were ever not talking, it had nothing to do with her or her sisters. Larry and I have come to know now, that if we’ve got a problem with one another, we can sit down and discuss it like two grown adults. Unlike Tammy, I know you can’t make someone want to associate with you, so I promised him that if he ever decided again for some reason that he didn’t want anything to do with me, not only must that remain a permanent thing, but that I’d respect and accept that and I promised not to call or write to him. I’ve learned to see and know when I’m not wanted or liked and I don’t want to bother with anyone who doesn’t want me around or like me. I’d rather be told to fuck off than to have the person “act nice.”

When Tammy told me that Jen told her she didn’t want to lose her too, please don’t go, I knew that was bullshit. I had mentioned this to Larry (now that we can keep stuff between us and trust each other) and he said that that’s bullshit, Jen doesn’t know her, can’t stand what little she does know about her, and that’s not her style to say something like that. Yeah, I figured. This isn’t the first time Tammy’s lied, exaggerated, or denied something she really did say, either. Mom and Dad are like this, too, but what he didn’t like about Mom and Dad, is something they’re well known for. Tammy’s bitched about this plenty of times and they used to do the same thing to me when I lived there. They say they’ll be around for a certain amount of time, but they end up not staying for even half of the time they said they’d stay. Even Larry agrees, there’s no reason why they couldn’t come out here. They could shut down their store and have someone take in those fucking dogs. It’s just not worth it to them, but the good about it is that I don’t have to deal with their shit in person. He said he’s shut down his business for a couple of weeks periodically when he’s had stuff to do or when he’s gone on vacation.

He said Dad said they’d stay around as long as he needed them. Then he told them he could really use their help (I think pertaining to the business), but then he said they were leaving the following day. Then, he found out they were still there, out having lunch with their friend they see all the time in Florida.

Typical, typical Mom and Dad too, to tell Larry to “get over” this tragedy. You can’t tell someone how to deal with something and what to think, believe, feel and do. Everyone’s different and everyone goes at their own individual pace and has their own way of handling things. They tell me not to tell Tom’s mom what to do, but it’s OK to tell their own kids what to do who are 31 and 43, huh?

As for Tammy, yes, she was really truly sorry that this happened and did want to be of any help she could be, but she used this as another opportunity to push her way into Larry, Sandy and Jen’s lives. All the while she’d exaggerate about her life (her job mainly), and treat her kids like shit, like she usually does, with the constant yelling, threats and cut-downs. She said really loud at the house in E. Longmeadow, something about Lisa having PMS, and then Larry said she said something about Lisa seeing what kind of damage a mother with PMS can do. That is so low. And a hell of a place to say something like that.

One of the things I always admired about Larry is how good of a dad he always was. He never laid a hand on his kids and he didn’t become another statistic. He didn’t carry on that abusive cycle and for it, he had one great kid and has one great kid. I’m not saying little Larry was perfect or that he, Sandy and Jen are perfect, but I think most kids would die to have parents like Larry and Sandy. This world needs many more parents like them. They’re very few. Way too few.

Yeah, I always knew that if I could’ve had a child, Tammy and Mom would play Mothers of the Century and make me feel like an incompetent freak who couldn’t handle it. It’s up to me to decide and tell myself what I can and can’t handle for we are our own best critics. If we’re honest with ourselves, only we can know what we can and can’t do and sometimes we can’t even know that, without trying something and without experiencing something. We all thought I couldn’t handle a relationship, but I proved myself and them wrong. However, I still don’t think I could be a good mother, even if I knew I wouldn’t be as bad as Mom and Tammy were/are.

I don’t know if he’s gonna dump Mom and Dad, but he isn’t calling them every day like he used to. I guess he’ll just talk to them when they call, but from what I gather, he’ll never call or see Tammy again. He said that the last time she called he was nice and polite and just told her he didn’t want to talk now, rather than come out and tell it like it is. I suggested he tell people what he really feels. That’s the only way, usually, and if he wants Tammy out of his life, he’s gonna have to tell her. One phone call will do it.

I was cracking up over one thing he said. I told him that Tammy told me that he seemed really out of it in the hospital and unaware of her presence. He then told me that despite the shock and misery he was in, he was playing more out of it than he really was, to get her to leave. That’s two of us in the family that can act.

This is what brought an idea to mind. I sent Larry this idea in my letter to him, cuz I thought about it after our talk, didn’t want to be another Tammy and bug him when he’s still not able or wanting to talk so much. The idea was for me to call him 3-way, then call Tammy. He could hit a button to let me know he was there and I’d say I accidentally hit a button. Then I’d tell Tammy I got a surprise person on my party line but wasn’t gonna tell her who it was till they returned from the bathroom that they just had to run to. Then I could casually bring up how cool it was of Jenny to have supposedly said this bullshit and she’ll say something like, “Yeah,” or “I know.” That’s when Larry can butt in, say he heard that, as he returned from the bathroom, and that that’s bullshit. Then she’s all his and he can have the floor and I’ll act like I don’t know what’s going on or what the big deal is. Then, when he’s ready to ditch her off the line, I’ll tell Tammy I’ll call her back sometime (of course when I do, I’ll have to act like the sympathetic sister who doesn’t know what’s going on). Larry may feel this isn’t worth the bother, but on the other hand, it’s the only way he’ll get her to fess up. Also, giving her a piece of his mind may make him feel better and, I admit, I think it’d be pretty funny. She’d only deny saying this to me about Jen if he were to ask her, anyway, and I still think she may have really told Mom and Dad about what I told her about our past sex life when she was in Florida. Why else would Ma include sex on her ‘do not discuss’ list? She was speaking for Tammy. I haven’t discussed anything sexual with them since before I ever came out here and believe me, I regret doing so in the past, and I never would again.

I really see the excellent possibility of my dumping Mom, Dad, and Tammy within the next few years. I just can’t keep stomaching their BS and they’re just not my type of people to associate with. About all I’d miss are the packages of goodies they send and my chats with Lisa, but as soon as Lisa’s out of that house, that’d be different.

I also laughed when Larry told me Ma said she wanted us all to get together for her 50th anniversary. Larry told her to keep dreaming. No shit! And where would we all get together and how does she think we could all conveniently do this? I mean, Tom’s got to work. He doesn’t have the luxury of having his own business that he could shut down in the event of a vacation or something like that like they do.

Also, Larry said she told him she was coming out here this summer. Yeah, right! It’s news to me and I told him she says that every 6 months to a year. I wish she and Dad would just come out and tell us they don’t ever want to come out here and they shouldn’t ever come out here if their hearts aren’t in it. That’d be unfair to both them and us. I don’t want them out here just cuz I’m their daughter if it’s not what they really want.

Later…

Well, well, UPS just delivered the pictures. I didn’t know UPS worked on holidays. Anyway, they sent a big picture in a frame with the two Larrys, Jen and my folks. I wish my folks weren’t in that one. My folks pretty much look the same, but my dad sure is a hefty one. Big Larry’s aged a bit and has gained weight. Little Larry is skinny like big Larry used to be, but he looks a lot like Sandy and Jen is a carbon copy of Sandy.

They also sent tons of pictures of their store (only they can send tons of pictures of stuff they’re into). There were a few shots of their condo, as well as a few others of the Larrys and Jen. I put one of little Larry and Jen into the picture frame ma sent with the journals.

So, tomorrow I’ll send my folks a letter and in it, I thanked them, of course. I’ve also got two envelopes going to Larry too, and I let him know I had an idea enclosed in them.

These last few days have been peaceful and productive. We had fun yesterday and he got off.

Back to my conversation with Larry. Well, I think I’ve covered the basics, but am bound to remember other details, which I’ll add in when and if I do.

I couldn’t resist calling Tammy after I called Larry and telling her how we had a long chat. You could hear the shock and envy in her voice, but all she asked was how he was doing. I told her he was hanging in there, as he said. Of course, if she had asked what we discussed, I certainly wasn’t gonna say, “Oh, just that you’re a liar and an exaggerating, phony bitch.”

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1997
I just left Andy a birthday message.

Yesterday turned out to be a very fun and productive day. First, Tom and I went to Wal-Mart where we got Ma’s new phone and also the best pens I ever had. There were 3 of my favorite colors in one package, pink, purple and light blue. Vision is the name of the brand and they have a window, just like Precise does, so you can see how much ink is in it. They’re not quite as fine-pointed as Precise, but I love them! So Precise has lost my business and now I’ll buy nothing but 3-packs of my favorite colors by Vision. Leave it to a writer to get all psyched up over a pen, huh?

Then we went to Mary’s and it was great to see Ma. She’s doing wonderfully but is a little weak. She has to keep testing her sugar level cuz of her diabetes. She has a machine that pricks her finger so she can test the level.

We talked and Mary fed us while we were there and I gave Ma a subscription for crossword puzzles that were in my word-find book. Then Tom and Mary went to the store to buy a shower massage for each of the two showers there and new handles that’ll turn easier for Ma while she’s there. After they left, Dave stopped in for lunch and he was his usual funny and joking self. I’d say he’s my favorite brother-in-law and my favorite sister-in-law is Sandy.

When Tom and Mary came back, Dave left shortly after and some old guy from the church came to visit Ma. So, Tom put up the shower stuff and I played computer games.

They have 4 hamsters and hundreds of dollars worth of stuff for them. You never saw anything like it! They have about 6 aquariums and so many wheels, tubes and burrows. So Mary brought out a box of cage parts and accessories and assembled a nice little cage for Gizzy. Wasn’t that nice of her? It’s a bit hard to describe its shape, but there’s the main part of it that’s a small square and it’s good cuz Gizzy’s not a runner who needs space. In that square, there’s a burrow with two entrances. It’s built into the cage. On top of the burrow is a deep dish for food or for them to nestle in. In the front left corner is a spot for the water bottle. To the right of the square is a wheel that’s attached to it and sticks out. To the left of the square is a short tube that shoots straight out, then a round tube that stems straight up from it. It’s about a two-foot difference from the lowest point of the cage to the top, which would be the top of the round tube. He really likes it and he can climb up and down the tube with no problem, as Tom and Mary had feared he couldn’t, but I knew he could. I haven’t seen him in the wheel yet, but I’m sure he’s used it and will use it. The tubes, wheel, and cage have many different colors of plastic. Clear, purple, pink, yellow, orange and red. I think I’ll want to start a little collection of my own and buy more tubes to run into the aquarium like they’ve got theirs set up. That way he can live in both his old aquarium and this new maze of a cage. They also had a separate wire wheel, like Gizzy used in his aquarium. Theirs is lavender and his is pink. The plastic, solid, attachable wheels they’ve got are mostly clear bright yellow, but she gave Gizzy a clear purple one. I thought his favorite places would be in the burrow and in the wheel, but so far, he likes to be at the top of the circular tube.

Still no pictures from my folks and again, I hope to hell they weren’t misdelivered.

We’re kind of back to being in the eye of the storm, but I have a general tension within me. I still have that sense of foreboding, saying it’s just a matter of days before some new shit goes down that’ll stress us both out and steal our time. There’s an ominous feeling in the air, but I don’t think Tom can sense it like I do. And I dread the next period and wonder how it’ll be. What kind of period will I have? I’m still a watery 104-pounder, despite the fact that my last rag ended up heavier than the two before it. I still feel it’s mostly water, somehow connected to my periods, but I also got fat, too. I’m so mushy, but I’ve still been too lazy to work out.

Tom’s working all through the holiday weekend and such weird hours, too. I don’t know how he does it, but he went in at 4 AM yesterday and has to go back at midnight tonight. He should be home at 1:30, maybe a little earlier. So at noon, I’ll make him Hamburger Helper. I want to and hope to have fun today, but I still have that nagging voice in my head saying - don’t do it. Don’t ask for trouble of any kind. Don’t set myself up to have weirder periods. Although, I don’t know for sure that his cum is causing my periods to fritz out. It could be some other unrelated reason, even though it seems too coincidental to be a gland problem or something like that.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1997
Hey, I guess they are still there next door. Almost an hour ago I heard them leave; no music. I’ll have to ask Tom if they came blasting in last night and if they did, it didn’t wake me up and they’re really lucky! I hope they’ll be gone for the weekend. When they’re here on weekends, that means the potential for parties and the 5-cast is to be beautiful. In a day or two, it’s to hit 80º.

I didn’t get the pictures, but hopefully today.

I just talked to Andy a short while ago, but he didn’t keep me on forever, cuz he fell asleep on me.

I showered and put makeup on. Makeup makes me feel better and more attractive. I should wear it more often, although Tom says I look better without it. Well, we both feel more comfortable with me wearing a little bit, I guess. I don’t like too much or bright or dark colors on me with me being fair-skinned. I look too clownish with certain amounts and colors.

I left Tom an email for Valentine’s and with blue text on a pink background I wrote: Happy Valentine’s Day!!!! I love you!!!!!

To my utter amazement, we screwed yesterday. I did so without any nervousness or fear and boy was I horny and boy did I want it! As I figured from the get-go, he didn’t cum. I guess maybe the reason why I wasn’t edgy about it is cuz of how horny I was, and at this time of the month, nothing can get fouled up. Usually, I’m horny before my period, but I hadn’t been the last time. And usually, I’m dried up after my period, but I was really horny.

Once again, he commented on how we haven’t had sex consistently and given an honest shot at impregnating me; there are too many gaps. Yeah, I know this and I’ve known this for years, but we still haven’t managed to close those gaps, have we? Not when there’s always something going on and not when my keeping it together isn’t always so easy. And not when one of us may not want to. I know now that Tom would be turned off if I were mad at him, but he knows that if I’m depressed, that doesn’t mean I’m turned off by the idea of sex. Actually, it helps me. Doing things I enjoy when I’m down, helps me. I do see progress in one aspect. We seem to be making quicker comebacks. It’s hard to believe that just 3 days ago, we didn’t know what the hell was going on with Mom and I was completely out of my mind.

Once again, there is some good to Mom not coming here and now maybe we can equal things out and do for others and for us (for two weeks here and there), but I was bummed when I was told yesterday that after Mary’s she’d be going home. I’m happy for her, but it’s like, first you go through the emotional let-down of not having a child to love, to bond with, to care for, then you get this great opportunity to have someone you love dearly in your home, help them out, do good for all 3 of us, and you can’t even have that. It made me feel, once again, like I had no other purpose or destiny than what I already do and have.

After thinking about it, I wonder if it wouldn’t be best for her to go to a care center. Naturally, this has to be up to her and it’s her life, but that way she’d be rid of the responsibility of the house and the memories that go with it. Also, she expresses concern over not wanting to bother anyone to fix stuff around the house, mow the grass, etc. Well, at a care center, they do all that there. There, she’d still be free to come and go, but nothing would be her own, either. Just her personal belongings and then she may have to deal with too many people she might not want to deal with. Not all staff members in places like this, hospitals, funny farms, schools, or wherever, are pleasant to have to deal with. Or, she may feel isolated when she doesn’t have company.

When Ma goes home, we’re gonna see about her getting voice messaging. That way, if she wants to go out with a friend, she can leave a home memo and that way, we won’t call there, get no answer, and worry our asses off. Tom and Mary haven’t discussed what else they’re gonna do and how they’re gonna schedule checking up on Ma, but Tom will stop there at least once a day after work. Her place is right on the way.

When I mentioned my hormones and me going on the fritz if I were pregnant, he said I would be a nut case, but that as long as I accepted that, knew and understood what was going on, and that that was OK, I’d be fine. That, and having postpartum depression is still a scary thought, though. Maybe it’d be easier to deal with and handle, knowing it was for a good and worthy cause, rather than for no reason or for a bad reason, but I don’t know. The two likeliest times for a man to either leave or be driven up the wall are when the woman first conceives or after she’s given birth, but why worry about some bridge I won’t have to cross?

Got a Valentine-themed picture of my grandniece Jennifer. The one who’s half black. It’s nice and I put it in the photo album. Boy, are we gonna be getting a slew of pictures from David and Evie of Parker. What do they do, make 10 copies of each picture?

I let Tammy know yesterday that I got a bad vibe pertaining to her. I don’t know any details. I don’t know which of the family members this pertains to or in what way, but we’ll give it a couple of weeks and see. I hope I’m wrong. On the other hand, there’s always something going on within that household.

I finished another Koontz book. It was good. I had to laugh, though, at something I read at the end. When this girl was taken by this killer, she shut herself down to it. Now, no one can just throw themselves into a catatonic state the second they wish to. If they could, we would all be little switches and I could flip a switch in my head and make myself want to puke at the thought of having a kid. I did have some chunks of time when I really did feel that way, though. Up until my early 20s and after the NHA. I do miss those days.

In this new book I’m reading, this woman talks about how the Gods should have no reason to be vindictive towards her, cuz she earned her dream. She worked hard as a writer and earned its rewards from it and deserves it. Well, why do I feel I have to earn and deserve a child from God? I thought that was supposed to be something that comes naturally. I thought this was a part of humanity. So why haven’t I earned it and why don’t I deserve it? Did I do something to make the Gods vindictive if it’s not only my imagination, or what?

Here’s a line from a Charles Dickens poem I sure can understand and relate to: The forces that affect our lives, the influences that mold and shape us, are often like whispers in a distant room, teasingly, indistinctive, apprehended with difficulty.

We didn’t go to the store yesterday, to get Ma’s new phone, cuz Tom wanted to come home and spend time with me. How sweet! Today we’ll be getting the new phone, then we’ll both head over to Mary’s and see Ma there.

Did I remember yet, to say that Tom thought about remodeling the back room and adding a second half-bathroom there? Well, we might still do that and cut the room in half and turn it into a 3-bedroom house. People usually are more appealed by 3-bedrooms. And an extra bath is always nice. Especially one that’d be closer to the pool.

Later…

The laundry’s done and I guess Tom will be here any minute with the groceries.

Anyway, I filled my mom in on the latest scoop with his mom, like I had done with Tammy. I also let them know about Parker. I told her what we thought would be good for Mom, and then she reminded us about not telling her what to do or where to go. I reminded her that that’s her department and that all we’d do is give advice, suggest or give opinions, but we don’t tell others what to do.

Then I got to teasing them in my letter I began to them, saying that if I find out Tammy and her family’s coming down to see them, I’ll have to piss them off so that they, Tammy, Bill, Marty and Ruth, can have a new thing to whine about pertaining to me.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1997
Andy’s to be calling me back any minute. He left me a message saying he could come over Friday night after work. Well, I’ll be asleep then, so I want to see if he can make it in the afternoon sometime.

Ma’s gonna be discharged today and for about a week or two, she’ll be staying at Mary and Dave’s. She’s not thrilled about the idea, cuz Mary’s too bossy and doesn’t let her do anything.

The doctors still aren’t completely sure what happened to Ma and they may never be sure or sure that this won’t happen again. Therefore, as I saw coming last summer, she will need to either be in a care center or with someone. The doctors think she may have had a seizure and have her on Dilantin. That’s a common seizure medicine. Tom and Mom still believe she did have a stroke.

Anyway, I’d say she definitely is going to be living here and we are definitely gonna be doing some remodeling around here. Tom thinks she should get rid of the house and that would be the best way for her to move on in life, but I don’t know what she’ll do with the house.

Also, Mary said that the age she said she was to die at was 72 and she’s now 73. Well, for some reason, I still have the number 77 come to mind and it seems connected to mom. Maybe it’s that she’ll win $77,000 in the lottery. Who knows?

I still have mixed feelings about Ma coming to live with us. Tom feels we don’t owe her anything, despite the help she’s given us, but that it’s just cuz he’d like to take her. Also, when I mentioned worrying about her seeing me upset, he said he thought her presence would help with that. It’s kind of like how I’d swear less if a kid was around. I wonder how important this is to him. He says we’ll have more time together and that we can still carry on with our business, but could he really see this as a way to avoid me and avoid sex? And as a way to calm me down? This is the good, though, that I see in her coming here. I would have to calm down and I think we’d have less time with each other. Besides, he always says we’re gonna have more time together and it never does work out that way, does it? There’s always something that comes up, right when things seem to slow down. We’re just never going to have consistent time together and we’re always gonna have a full-time marriage and a part-time sex life and that’s that.

I love doing for others, but it just seems that we do more for others than for ourselves as a couple. Or even for us as individuals, for that matter.

I didn’t hear those dogs again, so maybe someone was just walking dogs somewhere nearby and I couldn’t see them cuz of the hedges in front.

Well, once again, Tom told me he wants a child and he thinks that I should be a mom and that a child would be the best thing for me. Well, I still think something up there doesn’t agree with that. I told him OK since I didn’t want to disappoint him, but I know, no matter what, DES or not, psychologically OK or not, that isn’t meant to be and it never will be. Therefore, once again, I decided it doesn’t matter when we screw, how often, or if I do or don’t take birth control, cuz I know fate is fate. Meanwhile, I just want us to have our part-time fun when we can and I want to get better as a person and try never to go through and be how I was for a few days a couple of days ago. I agree with Tom to a degree. I don’t think my whole problem is just the kid issue or not the kid issue at all. I think the kid is an issue, yes, but when I’m in one of my moods, that does make the whole situation worse and harder to deal with. I’ll just have to work on accepting the fact that I’ll always want a child, but keep in mind that that’s not to ever be and that that’d be wrong. I’m not gonna fuck up another life.

Later…

Andy kept me on the fucking phone for quite a while as he likes to do. We’re still not sure when he’ll be coming over here, but we’ll play it by ear. Neither of us is going anywhere.

It turns out Andy himself, has a secret of his own. One he never even told me. He said he made the mistake of telling Bev, of all people, who told lots of other people, so he denied it and never told another soul. Remember Bev? The fair-weather friend of Andy’s who was a gossiping backstabber? Well, anyway, this secret does pertain to sex. I let him know he could tell me anything, I’ve heard it all and it’s not like he molested a child. True, he said, but he says he’s so ashamed and embarrassed. Supposedly, he had sex with someone he shouldn’t have had sex with, and he didn’t even know it was wrong till he read it in the bible. I reminded him that just cuz he reads something that says something’s wrong, doesn’t mean it really is wrong. As long as he felt comfortable and didn’t hurt anybody, and the people involved were of age and not forced, it’s OK. I believe that someday he’ll tell me and I’m sure it’ll be no big deal or shock to me.

Also, Andy’s been ripping off this grocery store like crazy. Supposedly, he had prayed to God for years to be able to get free food. Can you believe that God not only answers some of his prayers, unlike me, but that he also granted him a prayer to steal? I do. Anyway, the scoop is, is that this cashier, who’s a butch with a butch girlfriend is in on this, too. About 4 times, Andy paid $20 for nearly $200 worth of food. He also gets stuff for her and he brings it to her house and her girlfriend takes it in. He said he’s gonna do this two more times, but then that’s it. He’s gonna tell her it’s too damn risky and it’s wrong.

Later…

Here are some observations I’ve made. Well, I still don’t know for sure if last August or what I just went through was a miscarriage or not. Maybe the reason why I had spots at first was cuz my body tried to conceive but couldn’t, so then it let the potential embryo go, thus causing a period. However, if I’m the insane lunatic I am when my periods get screwy, imagine how I’d be if I were pregnant, cuz then your hormones are really out of whack. This is a scary thought, too, cuz I still don’t know if I can ever learn to get better at handling my emotions when they go on the fritz due to whatever cause.

I also used to tell myself that a child would be good for me in many ways and have heard people say stuff about how God would guide them into something better or good for them and would wonder why not me? Then I suggested to myself that maybe I just thought it’d be good for me cuz that’s what I’d want to think and that God disagreed and didn’t think it’d be good for me. Then yesterday, Tom said he thought it’d be the best thing for me. Yeah, come to think of it, he’s said that before. How it’d be good for me and how the responsibility would be good for me. Well, God doesn’t agree with that and I guess I don’t either, cuz I still don’t see how I’d be stable enough to be a mom, even if I wouldn’t be the worst mom, or how I could handle it.

Guess I’m always gonna write about, talk about, wonder about, and even worry about things that’ll never happen, anyway, but that’s OK. I accept this.

Got a letter from Kim, with some corny Bob letters. She did write to him, she said. Yeah, I knew she would. I don’t think she’ll ever dump him. She’s one of those who are “too nice” like I used to be and worries he’ll kill himself if she dumps him.

She says her brother’s girlfriend took the pill every day and at the same time. I still don’t believe this and again, didn’t she know something was up when she missed her period for so long, when she puked, when she gained weight, when she felt movement inside her? God really does have a hang-up with giving kids to those who don’t want them, plan for them, or who are more fucked up than I’ll ever be or have been, and who would be another Dureen or worse.

Later…

Well, the kids just came out to scream a couple of yards down. The yard with the two guard dogs. It’s quite windy out today and chilly, too.

Today’s the day I should get the pictures from my folks. I don’t know when the flagpole will be coming, but it doesn’t matter. Tom won’t have the time to put it up when it comes. He’ll be too busy. Besides, gotta instill patience in me, although he denies this. Of course he’s gonna deny it. What? Does he think he’d want to admit it so he can hear me tell him all about how that’s wrong and that if I want to change anything about myself, I’ll do it? I don’t think so.

Something’s gotta be done with this pig. This eating every 20 minutes and screaming as if he’s starving has got to stop. I’m only feeding him 3 times a day now. Not 8.

Thought about the idea of mom living here again. Tom did bring up a good point, though, when he said that we tend to fight more when something’s going on. Well, if it wasn’t his mom going on/coming to live here, it’d be something else, so what the heck? Besides, I think it’s destined for her to end up here and I want to do something that makes my husband happy and that’s for her to come here. We both love her dearly and like I said, there’ll always be things going on and we’ll always have a part-time sex life. Maybe this is also one of the many reasons God didn’t give us a child. Cuz he knew he was gonna give us his mom and she needs our help. Although I’d rather do for and help my own flesh and blood and although that’ll never be the case, it’s a good feeling to know I can be of any help to such a kind woman who’s helped me.

The whole family is just so great. I was tempted to come out and say last Christmas, “My childhood was no joyride. Most of the family members never got along well. When we’d all get together for something, I’d feel different, not wanted, not accepted, or appreciated. Here, I feel like I’m one of the bunch and you’re all such wonderful people. Thanks for being my family.”

Tom said, though, that it’s good that I didn’t do this, cuz they’d feel confused and uncomfortable. Yeah, I can understand this with these people and can see how they’d feel that rather than pleased at what I had to say. This family is much more casual in lots of ways and much less serious if you know what I mean. They also couldn’t relate to a lot of what I went through, no doubt.

Maybe Ma coming here would really be a great thing for all of us and not cause tension or fights between Tom and I since we’d have to watch what we say. I always thought there was some good to us not having too much time together in and out of bed. As for the bed part, I’m really nervous about sex. I want normal periods again, so I’m less emotional, but if we continue on with sex, I’m always gonna have weird periods playing on my mind/moods. For the first time, I kind of wish he’d go back to not cumming. It’d make things easier.

Later…

Tom just called from the hospital. Ma’s not coming to live with us but I still think that someday, in the future, she’ll be here. Yes, Tom will be just as busy. Instead of taking care of her here, he’ll be going over there a few times a day. Besides, even if she didn’t exist, something else would be going on. The good news is that I did talk to her and she sounds great. Really chipper and excited about getting out of there and I’m happy for her. She’ll be staying at Mary’s, then at home. The doctors said it’d be OK for her to be home after she gets her strength back.

Evie had the baby last night, 6 weeks early, but he’s doing OK and his name is Parker David.

Why not us God?

OK, OK, I know better.

Anyway, Tom will be here within an hour or so to pick me up to help pick up a new phone for Ma. She doesn’t have any phones that you can program numbers into and we want to get her one so she can call 911 if she needs to, by hitting just one button.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1997
Let’s see…where do I begin? Well, Tom said he thinks it’s wrong of me to not have a child due to my past, current or future problems. He said everyone has problems to a degree and that we all just have to make the best of them and do our best. He said he could have a kid, then snap in two years. You never know. In other words, he’s trying to tell me that just cuz someone’s blind, for example, it doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t live life to their fullest and do what they can do. Yeah, well, some things are just riskier and we need to consider this. What’s riskier - walking on solid ground? Or on a rope 20 feet high? I asked him what he wanted, cuz that’s very important to me. He said he’d be disappointed if I never had a child, but wouldn’t blame me or hold it against me if I couldn’t or wouldn’t have a child. I told him then, that I’d forget about birth control, but without feeling like a liar. What I mean by that is, I told him we can have a child, but I know we can’t, so I figured there was no need to tell him no, I won’t have a child when that still does come down to fate. It’s a matter of fate and I still believe that’s God’s decision to make, not ours, so it doesn’t matter whether or not I say yes or no to it. There are a lot of factors involved. If not the DES, then maybe my brain isn’t relaxed enough to let me conceive. We all know that when my mind is off, my body functions are off. It could be just cuz the grass is green and the sky is blue, but no matter what influences it, it’s a question of fate and God’s will. He’s the one that decides which of us has children.

The bottom line is still the same. I want a child, I’ll probably always want a child, but that would be wrong, selfish, and spoiled of me to have one and expose that child to the ways and even the humiliation of a mentally unstable mom. Wasn’t it me who bitches all the time about people like me having kids?

After I reminded him of what kind of person he wants to have a kid with, he said, “So get better.”

But I can’t just “get better.” All I can do is try to deal with and handle this thing better by not freaking out so much.

I also have a lot of mixed emotions about what’s going on with his mother, but I was right. After Dad died, I knew it was just a matter of time when she’d need constant care or help. I know some of these mixed feelings I feel and think are selfish, and I’m trying to get away from that, but I agree with Tom. It should be equal as far as the amount we do for others and ourselves. I wish we could do as much for ourselves and taking care of Ma is fine, but I’d also like to take care of a baby. Once again, though, God decides this and what we do and who we take care of, to a degree, by what things he gives us access to and by what opportunity is there. Some are within our reach, some aren’t. The opportunity’s there to have/care for Ma, but not a child. She’s getting out of the hospital real soon and she’s gonna need someone checking up on her at least 3 times a day and she may not always be able to stay at home. Naturally, it’s Tom and Mary who do most of the checking and helping out mom. David and Evie have a small kid and one on the way, so they’ve got no time and no life. Nora and Ray aren’t very helpful at all unless they’re asking to do something and Steven’s so far away. He may be flying in, though. The bulk of it’s on Tom and Mary, though. She will be staying at Mary’s, but it’s unlikely that she’ll ever live here. You never do know, though. It is likely, though, that she’ll stay here several times for a few days or so. Once again, whether she’s here, home, or elsewhere, I have mixed feelings. I’d love to spend time with her, give her the help she needs since she’s helped us, but I feel that this is just sucking our time and lives away. There will be some inconveniences too, with her staying here, but nothing serious that can’t be dealt with, worked out, and overcome. There definitely, definitely is something up there doing whatever it can to keep us tied up in something else, so we can’t have too much time together. There’s a pro to that, though, too. Less time together means less time for fights and or other problems.

I spoke to the phoneaholic who should be coming over here within the next couple of nights to get his birthday presents.

I’m taping a movie now with 7 deaf people being held hostage by 3 escaped cons. Marlee Matlin’s in it and it’s fun seeing what they say and interpreting it in my head.

Tom also told me that my being pregnant while his ma is here is no problem and that she’d obviously go elsewhere once I got close to the due date. He went on and on about it, reassuring me as if we really are going to have a kid someday and it’s ridiculous, just like this pregnancy test, but he does have a right to his feelings and beliefs, so I just let him have his say about it, but I will not have a kid with how I am. I’ll just always want it and like I said, that’s what dreams are for. If something wasn’t meant to be just a dream, then it wouldn’t be just a dream for so long. Dreams are dreams. Reality is reality.

Another thing I’m gonna work on, that I may have mentioned before, is not plugging what I say into what he says.

Once again I woke up at 102. But, as usual, a couple of cookies and a couple of cups of coffee threw me back up to that typical 104.

Later…

Oh, fuck! I think the people across the street might’ve gotten a new dog or two. I opened the door to see if there was anyone next door (there still hasn’t been) and I heard two dogs barking. It sounded like it was directly across the street and I didn’t see anyone appear to be walking dogs. Then I turned the fan off and could hear it loud and clear. Well, I’ve met the guy that lives there. He came over when we had our tag sale, seems very nice and I’m sure it’ll be no problem if I ever need to kindly ask him to tone down any dogs.

Let me guess, God’s up there saying, “Hey, I think they might be permanently gone from next door, the house may be empty for a while, so I had to do this. You have to have something.”

Whether or not things like this, curses, or punishments are true, I’m gonna say stuff like this. It’s my way of venting. Hey, when you can’t blame yourself or someone else, blame God! Right?

Those fucking dogs and those kids have been outside every afternoon since they put up those monkey bars. I can’t hear the kids in the house, thank God, or the dogs with the fans and it’s better than that loud bass, but I’m still not fond of it.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1997
Things still haven’t been too cool at all. If I wrote down every little thing we said or that I thought, I’d have 100 pages. So, I’ll try to cover the basics, cuz I no longer want to drag this on and on. I just want to put it behind me and move on.

I did something that I regret more than anything. Very bad judgment call. I read Tom what I’ve written over the last few days or so and talked with him and freaked out and had to have him come home from work. In making all these mistakes, I fucked our lives up by having us lose much-needed money, I added stress on top of the stress that he already has, and I frustrated him, brought him down and all we did was fight.

He still believes that yes, I want a child, and am upset we haven’t had one, but that’s not the main issue. The issue is that I have a psychological problem that’s making me depressed and therefore, making other things issues in my mind that aren’t really issues. He believes I’d feel this way for a different reason if we had a kid and that I’ve been delusional (thinking I’m sterile, thinking God was punishing me, just like I thought he was lying and deliberately not cumming before last July). He also says I’ve been selfish, spoiled, taking fits like a little kid, incapacitated, and having him have to take care of me and be a father too, besides a husband.

He’s absolutely right.

He said, “What kind of emotions do you think went through my head when I heard that my mother lay in that house helpless for 18 hours till someone came to help her?”

He never shed a tear. He never went into a fit of yelling, crying, blaming God, getting delusional and he remained independent and took care of himself. He didn’t start to cut himself like I did. He didn’t think or talk about dying. He just accepted how he felt and the situation at hand and he dealt with it as a responsible, reasonable, reliable, mature, unspoiled, and unselfish grown-up that he is.

He said it’s OK to talk, to ask for help, to feel and believe as I do. I know what he means, but the very bottom line is this: I’ve got to stop these tantrums. He let himself feel what he felt when his mom got sick. He didn’t act spoiled by trying to change his sad emotions into happy ones and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing - not accepting myself. Instead, I’ve been carrying on like an asshole that’s spoiled, selfish and immature.

When I asked him how he coped so well with his emotions, he said the cold hard truth is, he’s not spoiled. He accepts it when he’s sad and doesn’t selfishly try to fight it off to be happy. Part of accepting myself completely is accepting the sadness I so often feel. Not trying to “get happy” and have stuff, like a child, just so I can be happy and have what I want. That would be wrong, unfair to the kid, and be an act of selfishness and downright spoiled.

I’ve got to learn to shut up, feel as I feel, want what I want, stop taking hysterical fits, and stop being selfish and spoiled. Stop fucking up our lives and being dependent on him to take care of me and father me.

What he meant by the taking care part is that it’s OK and nice that I do his laundry, but don’t wake him up halfway through his sleep or call him at work to ask him to gather up his laundry so I can do it. That’s wrong, fucking up our lives and being a selfish, spoiled, immature, asshole.

As for the delusions. Alright, maybe it was wrong and uncalled for for me to blame God for bad things that happened. Cuz if I’m being punished, then the whole world is, cuz I’m not the only one who has to deal with life’s ups and downs. We all do.

As for the sterility. Maybe he’s right about my being fertile. I have all the parts and haven’t had any problems, so maybe I am fertile and the only reason why I haven’t conceived is cuz of my emotional and psychological state. He says that’s why I don’t sleep normally. So maybe it’s not necessarily a question of sterility, but a question of sanity and my mentality. Yes, I still do believe, though, that God is the one who gives the OK or the rejection slip to those of us who want kids or even those of us who don’t. He decided who reproduces, and therefore, a person’s life and physical and mental state are irrelevant. For the most part, it is, anyway, and even if I were wrong about God cursing me or hurting me in any way that still doesn’t mean I agree with his ways and think he’s fair.

This isn’t something I convinced myself of but realized more so than ever before. That it would be very selfish, spoiled and very wrong of me to have a child, given my mental state. It wouldn’t be fair to have the kid exposed to my condition. Especially if I’ll only continue to be this way with a child, as he’s said. It’s OK to want a kid. That’s how I feel and probably always will and I have to accept that. It’s not OK to go and have a child, though, just cuz I want one. Gotta protect that kid from me and the only way to protect that kid from me is to not have that kid. After thinking about it, no, I probably wouldn’t have been a Dureen and sometimes, and in some ways, I would’ve been a good mom. But I’d be a lousy mom, as well, and that would take away from and override the times I was a good mom. I do worry slightly about God allowing me to conceive, now that I want one, but don’t want to have one for various reasons, but that shouldn’t happen if I am responsible and get on birth control.

As for me calling him a liar. The only reason I can think of as to why I did that was cuz of all the other liars I’ve known, but that was still no excuse and I was wrong. I should’ve taken my husband for face value.

We did discuss me seeing a counselor or shrink, but due to the fact that there are no magic words they can say to me or any magic pill they can give me, I’ll not be weak and run to them like a spoiled, selfish, immature kid who needs her hand held. I want to be strong, I must be strong and deal with this myself, change myself and my ways for the better, and quit this constant rage and sadness. And should I continue to be sad and angry for whatever reason, I must not keep taking fits and being delusional and selfish and spoiled about it and fuck up our lives and drag him down with me. Gotta keep functioning and independent. His job is to be my husband, not take care of me. My job is to be his wife, not depend on him.

If and when he should ever want sex again, that’s gonna be hard. I still feel that sex just comes between us and can and does cause problems. However, I want to make my husband happy and do what he wants, as I told him. We’ve done enough for me.

Also, this is kind of irrelevant, since I cannot and won’t have a kid with the way I am, no matter how much I want to, but it’s a rag update. Yesterday I had a feeling that each rag would get lighter and lighter, then maybe even stop. He then brought that up later too, saying that I’d be pregnant when it stopped. Well, I don’t know why it has to get lighter, then stop. I thought it’d be normal, then stop. How would my body be that smart and know it was trying to conceive? He said everyone’s different, but that’s just how my case would be. I still think my body’s had bad reactions to his cum, or weird ones. I don’t know if this is medically possible, but it is ironic that my periods flipped out once he started cumming. He said he expected this and that this was understandable and even normal. I also think that OK, I’m a psychological screw-up, and things happen in life to upset me, but I think last August I went on the same emotional trip. If I remember right, though, back then I was bitchier, this time I’m more depressed. I think the more abnormal my periods are, the more they tend to play on my emotions, as the hormones, or whatever the hell, get more thrown off.

Then when I woke up 8 hours ago, I was gushing for a few hours. It was much stronger than the last two periods. He said that’s OK, though, there are other factors as well, and that he figured would happen last summer. Such as the fact that I didn’t need any Ibuprofen and the way my period started off really weird with a few spots, then nothing for 30 hours.

When I woke up with the hard flow, I even weighed 102, but that was just for 5 minutes. I’m back to the usual 104 now.

He also told me more about Mom’s sister Margaret. Well, from what I hear, she’s downright crazy. Yeah, I figured that. She sends Mom money when Mom has 10 times more money than she’ll ever have. She goes out to the store for stuff she needs but is quite a hermit. She bought Mom a dryer she didn’t need and has the money for if she did.

I was on Mercy Care when I was on disability and she’s got about $18,000 in the bank with her social security and savings. Well, she went to apply for Mercy Care. She saw a commercial on TV for it and decided she wanted it. Naturally, they told her when she applied for it that she made too much money for it, so now she’s trying to get rid of her money so she can have it. Good, God!

How can that guy across the street and next to us sleep? Or anyone around him? His poor dog’s been barking now for 45 minutes. Something about Arizona makes people cruel to their animals. His trailer company still hasn’t been around. And next door’s still deserted. Tom thinks the city owns the house and rents it to people and there doesn’t need to be a rent sign up, either. I wonder why the two dogs sound much louder than the one dog that that old guy has? Even when just one of the two dogs bark, it’s much louder than the guy’s one dog, yet the guy’s one dog is closer to us. Maybe it’s just cuz these two dogs are huge. These are also guard dogs, too.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1997
I am still not in the greatest of moods, but before I get into it, let me mention a few things I forgot to mention earlier.

Tom stapled up some chicken wire over the top of the walkway that separates the kitchen and back room, down a couple of feet on each side. I then made a flower arch. It’s OK-looking, but nothing great.

I let Andy know about Ma’s stroke the day it happened and was afraid he’d use this as an excuse to be pushy and call so much, but he hasn’t, so that’s nice. I haven’t been in the mood to talk to anyone other than Tom.

Next door hasn’t been here in days, which is wonderful. All I’d need is for them to be there, decide to party, and have to deal with that on top of everything else. I am soooo damn depressed. Am I ever gonna be free of this depression? I fear the answer is no.

I know I want a child and that I can never have one, but all else confuses me. Tom tells me to talk about this daily and don’t bottle it up, yet the reason he said he needed to wait to read all I’ve written lately, is cuz he’s not in the right time frame to read something he believes is depressing and negative. It’s depressing alright, but to me it’s reality. Not negativity. I want to talk to him, but it’s not that easy. He doesn’t believe or understand what I truly feel and if all it does is depress him, then how can I talk to him easily? Why does he want me to? I also fear that my talking to him about my wanting a child is making him feel like he’s not good enough. He told me that as long as he has me, he could never feel deprived, no matter what he has or doesn’t have. Before that, though, he told me he too, feels the sadness over not having a kid now and deprived of it, just like I do. What really is on his mind? I feel I’m getting mixed messages from him. Is he deprived or not? Does he want me to talk or not? Does he feel like he’s not good enough or what? And when I do talk, he always insists I’m fighting with him and am angry at him. I’m not angry at him, but I am frustrated for a few reasons. Cuz of the mixed messages and not knowing if he really understands, feels what I feel, or if he feels that my desire to have a child is selfish, he’s not good enough, or that what I’m saying is depressing him. I also wish he wouldn’t think I intended to fight. I don’t want to fight or bring him down. Another thing that frustrates me is how he just doesn’t believe I’m sterile. I know I’m sterile. I hate not being believed and I know I’m right about this. My logic, my woman’s intuition, and everything else tells me so. In a way, I wish we could just go to a doctor and just see if they can just tell us who’s right so we could at least put an end to the who’s right or wrong on that and then take it from there, but he’s so sure I’m OK and that we’re gonna have our own. He tells me we’ll do whatever I need, even if that means getting a doctor involved, but that wouldn’t be very easy for me to do for such reasons as my fear of God and my fear of hurting him by doing that and I don’t want to live with the guilt trip that he and myself may put on me for it. How can I talk to him when he tells me he doesn’t want to read what I’ve written at this time cuz he thinks it’s depressing? Yes, I’m sure it’s also one of those things to try to instill patience in me and maybe a little bit of a punishment by not reading what I’ve had to say about all this, but you see how confused I am? I feel that he’s (not intentionally) a bit contradicting. If he’s not in the right frame of mind to read what he doesn’t want to hear now, then why would he want to hear it from my mouth? He thinks I’m depressing and negative, fighting with him, and he doesn’t believe a word I say about the sterility; therefore, it makes me want to try again to just shut up about it and try to convince myself I shouldn’t want or have a child, anyway. Talking about it still has me depressed and very emotional and I shouldn’t want or have a child. That would be wrong and selfish of me. Tom should be enough. I am blessed in several ways. Why can’t that be enough?! I have a life and a husband most women would kill for. Most women tell me they regret being a mother and that they give anything to go back in time, not have kids, and have the kind of life I’ve got. So why then, would I want to throw it all away and risk my health and marriage and drive myself more insane than I already am with the burden of a child? What is wrong with me? I wish he were here right now, cuz there’s so much I want to say to him, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He says he does and that he does understand me, but it’s hard for me to believe this. Oh, he understands me and can listen to me more than anyone else ever could, but there are some exceptions. Besides, he already knows how I feel and why should he have to hear it? It is wrong and selfish of me and I don’t want to make him feel bad in any way and he has enough shit going on with his mom right now. Then he said something like it’s OK for me to tell him I want a kid and be sad about not having one, but then he said something about me arguing and being manipulative. Manipulative? I don’t quite understand that one. I just don’t understand him. I just don’t know what he really wants and when I think I do, it seems that that’s changed or I’ve misunderstood him.

Another thing that really annoys me is the same old story about the lack of time for sex. He makes me feel like it’s all cuz of me and that it’s my fault that we don’t have time for sex, while he says there’s no one to blame. He said, “Why can’t you say, OK, life will be one thing after another, there won’t be much time for sex, but I’m gonna do what I can do to put forth my best effort at making time.” It’s not that easy. Not when we really don’t have that much time. And not when there are the other factors he brought up - our schedules, the fact that I wake up slowly, the fact that he prefers sex closer to when he wakes up. So, the time is there actually, but there are so many reasons that make it seem like there’s no time. He can’t function sexually when he’s feeling certain things or when certain things are going on. Even he admitted that compared to most people, he can’t have sex in a lot of situations. He requires things to be a certain way for that. He’s not a machine who can make himself perform sexually under most circumstances. For example, if you take 10 possible situations that could be going on in life or that he could be feeling, most people could carry on in bed during about 7 of those things. He can only do so with one or two. Things have to be just right and he needs a lot of free hours, but free hours are rare cuz there’s always something going on. Then he said something else that really confused me and that’s about how our schedules don’t always match up. Yes, I know this, but we still have hours every day. He knows there’s not a damn thing I can do about my schedule and that it’s totally out of my control, yet he brings that up and I don’t think my schedule is really that big of a deal, as far as our time goes, or the main problem and reasons why we don’t get to have more sex. Or more sex for more often. I really believe that the main reason is cuz of my emotions and life’s events and that he’s got so many reasons and excuses that he can’t carry on sexually. I’m not saying he’s doing this deliberately or making these things up, but I think that in most ways I’m way more flexible when it comes to time for sex. He, on the other hand, needs this and that to be the case or not be the case when it comes to sex. He says he can have sex with me when I discuss my emotions and am sad, but not when I’m angry with him. He makes it sound like I’m always angry at him, but this isn’t true. I’m not always so angry at him, like he believes, he takes my need to constantly say what I believe as a way of arguing with him and I think that many more things about me and life, do snuff his desire for sex. This is why it’s not so easy to talk to him. And I believe the main problem for his lack of sexual desire is about me and life’s events. Not our schedules and not this bogus anger I’m supposed to constantly have towards him. He takes so much of what I say way too personally and is way too sensitive.

Since I can’t stop life’s events from happening and people from having strokes or dying, all I can do is change me, but that’s not so easy, either. I told him I’ll try harder to work on my schedule and be up more when he’s up, but then he says that’ll just make me sick and that there’s a happy medium in there. I don’t have to be either up all the time or asleep all the time. How am I gonna know when to stay up and when not to, I asked him? Then he says, “Well, that’s the thing. You may not always know this.”

Gee, that helps.

I just don’t know what I’m doing or saying anymore. I’m just so confused. Every time I think I’ve got the hang of what to do and that we’re on a roll in and out of bed, it gets all screwed up and as mysterious as God’s ways are. What do I do? How often do I do it? What do I say? How often do I say it? Be spontaneous he says, well, that doesn’t always work. If he walked into the room right now and said to tell him everything I’m feeling and then we’ll have sex, I don’t think I could. I still think that sex is making things way too complicated and interfering with so much. Each time we have sex and I see that I’m as still as sterile as can be, it still kills me, even though I’ve always known I was sterile. Each month, when my rag comes, it’s like I die a little more inside.

I feel trapped, hopeless, helpless, confused, scared, sad, and frustrated and I know I’m in a no-win situation that there’s no way out of. No way to make it better, cuz like I said, just when it does seem to get better, the shit hits the fan again. I’m right where God wants me. He’s up there laughing his ass off at me right now, I just know it.

How do I know what really is the right thing to do? He says the best thing to do is to not go to a doctor. What if it is the best thing we could do? He says I don’t need meds for this depression. What if I should take them, even though I’ll still have my bad days, feel what I feel, and have side effects? Do I do one thing a certain way for a period of time, then try another way if the first thing doesn’t work? And for how long is long enough to try certain things? Is there any way for Tom and I to do what makes us both feel happier and comfortable at the same time? Cuz it always seems that it’s either one or the other and that we can either do for me or do for him, but not for us. It’s hard when one person believes one thing and the other believes differently.

What I knew would happen, happened. I have more than a few spots, but I could hardly call it a period. Each period gets lighter and lighter. I haven’t needed any Ibuprofen or big pads and most of the spots are what I wipe off and only a few have made it onto the liner. I knew this was going to happen and that no miracle could ever suddenly happen, so why does it still tear me up inside?

Later…

The rain has stopped (my tears have dried up). The thunder has quieted (my fury has eased up). But the ground is still wet (my problems still exist).

I lay in bed for nearly an hour and I cried and I cried so hard. Why? Why? Why? was all I kept asking. Why did God punish me and hate me so? Why did he make my schedule something I can’t control just cuz I can dance? Why did he refuse to help me help myself off the cigarettes cuz I can act? Why did he sterilize me cuz I can sing? Am I ever gonna know a world without so much depression and rage? I’m so sick of this 80% rage and sadness and 10% tranquility. Being depressed can really hurt a lot, just like being physically wounded can really hurt a lot. I’m depriving my husband of my full potential as a person and my full abilities as a wife, due to this lack of control over my schedule, my never-ending rage and sorrow due to the sterility and I can’t function very well. I’m afraid there’ll come a point where I either kill myself or can no longer function. I keep forgetting things we need. I forgot to tell Tom we needed lettuce and toilet paper and I feel I haven’t done enough around the house. I’m getting air-headed, forgetful and I’m having trouble concentrating.

If I don’t go to a doctor, nothing will happen. If I do go to a doctor, nothing will happen, but I’ll also have to risk more trouble from God and I’ll feel like Tom feels I’m manipulating him, going against his wishes, and that I don’t care about him or his feelings.

I checked once again in the 3 encyclopedias on AOL. One didn’t say anything about sterility, one couldn’t tell me anything cuz I couldn’t find DES, and the other confirmed my worst fears. “Various reproductive disorders with female and male off-springs.” I printed it out for Tom to see, even though he’s still gonna tell me I’m OK. What if it’s an act? What if he really believes I’m sterile? Would he tell me so? Or could he possibly just not want to deal with it? Not want to go through a slew of testing, doctors, appointments, time, money, and deal with me being told what I already know and don’t want to hear?

There’s so much more I could say on this subject, but after all I’ve just written, I’ll finally take a break from it all, if I can, and write about other stuff. If there’s some other thought or thing Tom and I discussed that I forgot to write down, I will.

I wanted to cut myself so bad. Although it wouldn’t unsterilize me or make me happier, I wanted to do it so bad. It was so hard to restrain myself, then Andy called. He asked, “Why didn’t you call me?” He could tell I was crying.

He still hasn’t seen or spoken to Quinn, which is good, but he was pissed off at Laura and a coworker. The coworker went off on him and called him names. Laura still won’t do her fair share of chores and expenses. He needed me to listen to him vent.

No problem. But how much could I cheer him up and make him feel better? I was a wreck myself. Nonetheless, we both bitched to each other about the things that make us sad, pissed, and scared. I guess I made him feel better. That’s what he told me. I guess I felt a little better after writing, singing, crying, pounding my fists into my thighs and arms to keep from cutting myself and talking with him. The problem is still there, though. Always has been. Always will be. I told Andy I was lucky to get two weeks with no emotional fits and we were lucky to get two weeks without some crisis occurring somewhere and with more time together. Go for the two weeks, he told me. Is that all I ever have to look forward to in my life? An occasional two weeks? I guess so.

Andy also played me a tape of something I’d totally forgotten about, that he said would make me feel better. It was a tape of me singing a song he wrote in June of ‘89 on his 4-track with the voice-over and with me playing the guitar. It did not make me feel better. I sounded like a fucking 10-year-old and it was all nasally. If I just didn’t sing with that nasal sound, which I still can never seem to help with all my training and practice (must be the ciggies), maybe I’d sound much better than I do. Anyway, he’s so glad he found this tape. He said it made him feel better. I wish he’d destroy it!

I wish to have a child. I can’t have a child. I wish to be able to deal with not having a child and not always have it on my mind and spinning my emotions out of control, so I could be a better wife and so my husband doesn’t have to feel brought down, not good enough or like I’m angry and wanting to fight with him.

I am only a dreamer whose wishes could never be granted.

Later…

I made spag for Tom. It’s about the least I can do for my husband.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1997
Good news regarding Mom. Well, last night Tom realized that she forgot names. Not that she couldn’t talk. However, he went to see her today and she’s doing much better. She’s much more coherent, remembers names, and is moving better. She also has her short-term memory back, which she lost and there are no signs of paralysis. The neurologists did a battery of tests on her and she’s now speaking much better.

I slept from about 11 AM - 5 PM and before going to sleep, I called Tammy. First, she did her usual. She told me how sick she’s been and then I told her about mom. She was very sorry and said she’d call our folks. She also gave suggestions about aftercare for her, since she knows a lot about this.

Tom went to bed at around 6 PM. The poor guy’s beat and hasn’t slept much in the last few days. Even I’m still tired.

At 7:30, just as I finished typing them a letter which I’ll still send out, Mom and Dad called and we really, really did have a pleasant talk. I thanked them for caring and for listening to me. I told them the latest scoop on Ma. They too, were truly sorry and concerned and wanted to know what hospital she was in. The same one I was in, Good Samaritan. And then they said they’re sending out those pictures on Monday and a metal flagpole. They asked what kinds of flags I like and I told them I don’t dig fruits or sports or dull colors and how I dig pink, purple, music, dance, animal and flower-related stuff. Mainly bright colors. He asked what cartoon ones I liked and I told him I liked the Snoopy one I’ve drawn a lot. I’m sending them a really nice, colorful drawing of a pretty floral flag of theirs. I had forgotten the name of it and didn’t know the name of the flowers. They didn’t mention anything about my telling them just how I feel about them telling me what to say, so that’s nice and appreciated.

I told my folks I’d keep them updated, let Tom know they called, and tomorrow I’ll call Tammy, thank her for being my interpreter, and give her the latest scoop.

About 20 minutes after I spoke to Mom and Dad, I got a weird call. The woman said she was Margaret S, she wanted to talk to Jodi “Lee,” she saw me on the computer. Do I still have that nice long hair? She’s now in Mesa at Johnny and Marie’s place, not California.

Then I realized it was Ma’s sister who was about the same age. She said Ma says lots of lovely things about me, how it’s cool I’m Jewish, and that she wished I could’ve helped her when she had her stroke. From what she said, she could hear and see, but couldn’t talk. So, I told her I was Jodi Lin and that it’d be nice if she at least knew the alphabet. I think all people in all the different kinds of medical fields should at least know the alphabet if not signs. She says she wanted to meet me, liked my attitude, and felt very comfortable talking to me, who she didn’t know and who she’d only heard about, and she says that’s not like her. She says she’s going to be moving into a senior apartment complex. We must’ve talked for a half hour and at one point I told her to make a fist. Then I told her that was the letter S, so she already learned a letter. It’d be nice to teach Mom the alphabet. At one point, she weirded out on me and said something about her son and me having some relation to Jesus and that Jews are the special people who were chosen. Of course, I’m thinking to myself, well, I’ve been chosen to have a great husband, some fun talents and skills, to live in Arizona. But not to have a child.

Now here’s my weird news, speaking of my wacky plumbing. I’ve never had anything like this. Since wiping off the two spots I wiped off yesterday, I haven’t had a thing since, and now it’s about 30 hours later. I was so sure I’d wake up with cramps and some kind of flow, but nope. This is even stranger and less than I had last August. I had spots every few hours back then, but now you’re talking over a day with nothing, since the last few spots.

Tom still insists I’m fine, but I know damn good and well what it is. God’s just teasing me and getting me back, since over the last month or so, I must’ve sworn at him more than I have in a few years. So what am I gonna do? Spot every 6 months? I guess so. If I were fertile, though, I know there’s no way I could be pregnant. That shot during mid-cycle just wasn’t enough. Also, the few spots I did have are almost guaranteed to take out anything with it that could’ve begun to form in there. And lastly, I’m sure that by tomorrow, if not, by Monday, I’ll have some kind of a flow. I don’t see how I couldn’t and I’d bet my life on the fact that this isn’t it. If I don’t get a full flow within a day or two, then I’m sure I will before two weeks go by. I flowed after that 2-week spot attack. The build-up leading up to this is a carbon copy, though, of before I spotted last August. No PMS of any kind, except for sore tits. No being horny. All I have now is sore tits, but once again, it’s basically only one tit. The other one’s not really sore at all.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1997
Well, I was right. I said about a week and a half ago that something bad would happen and once again, here we are in the eye of the storm. Or am I supposed to say: the storm? Yes, the storm. And 1997, which is far from over, is going to be anything but a great year. It’s going to be a nightmare.

Tom’s mom had a stroke and is now in the hospital. The stroke affected her speech mostly, and she’s unaware of her right side. The muscles and all that work, but she’s not able to function properly or make much sense.

What is it about odd number years? I’ve noticed that at least as far back as 1983, odd-number years seem to be much worse than even-number years.

Also, if I thought I was fertile and that we could have a child, I’d seriously suspect that God was trying to stall us and hold us off till I was near 40.

This hasn’t been discussed yet, is far from etched in stone, and may or may not ever happen, but Tom and I talked about Mom living here. I know she’s a very understanding and accepting woman, who’s very tolerable and patient, but I’d really have to keep my many depression and anger spells in check. I’m going to have to whisper to Tom about my emotions, sterility, and whatever else. Sex may be infrequent, but for the most part that’s the way it’s always going to be. Every time we get on a roll with that, something comes up and I can see our sex life becoming less and less of an occurrence. Especially during this year and probably for the next 2-3 years. Tom said, though, that Mom’s no stranger to depression and that when he was little, she went through serious depression and was put on all those pills I hate. He said my music wouldn’t bother her and not to worry about her thinking I was crazy due to my schedule. He said she’d be so appreciative of us helping her out that she’d deal with and accept how we were and what we did. Also, going on trips would be no problem, cuz she could stay with Mary or with someone. If I were fertile, though, we’d have to wait on the kid. Maybe Tom would agree with me, maybe not, but I don’t think that would be very fair to Mom to put her through that and I don’t think I could juggle the kid and mom. The kid would be way more than enough and remember, I can’t handle a child. That’s one of the many reasons I’m sterile. However, since we’re the ones in the family that will always be childless, I think we’re the perfect candidates for taking her in if need be, and I really like the idea. She’s a sweet lady and I feel comfortable around her. Also, I think we’d be able to entertain each other well. I can see her enjoying telling me stories about her life, her sewing, and more, and I can see me telling her and showing her all about the things I do. Also, I’m sure that if one of us needed some space and time alone, that’d be no problem. The only question is where she would sleep. Would she bring her bed over here? Well, we’ll work this out when and if she does move in here, but with me having no other possible life, I think this could be good for all of us. Maybe this is something God had planned for me and one of the many reasons why he sterilized me. So I could be available to help her. She’s helped us tremendously.

My being psychic really is a curse, not a gift. I knew this was coming, but I didn’t know who or any details and I was off by a few days or so. Tom was right, though, when he said that my knowing it, even if I knew it in full detail, wouldn’t have stopped it. And if I’d told Ma, she’d just worry like crazy. There’s no controlling what I know I’m/we’re/someone’s in for. I just have to sit back and let it happen, against my will.

As I told Tom, I see lots of trauma, disaster, sadness, fury, illness, and even death this year. Something about the number 77 comes to mind as far as his mom’s concerned, but I’m not sure what it means. Tom said that’s not good, though. Many years ago, his ma said she knew she was gonna die at 70-something, but he can’t remember the exact year. Anyway, I see something not too cool going down this year with his ma, my dad, and us. I know there’s more, but I have no clues as to what it could be all about. The only thing I can think of that could go down with us is a doctor telling us, “Yes, she’s right. She’s sterile,” but I still doubt I’ll ever get up the nerve to go to a doctor about this and risk trouble from God. I couldn’t do that without major encouragement and you know how it goes, you can’t encourage or discourage someone else. Only they can encourage or discourage themselves, right? Well, I can’t encourage myself. So, hopefully, the bad thing on us won’t be God killing Tom or hurting him in any way. I know we’ll never be divorced. We’ll never have a child, so there’s nothing that I can think of, to put this marriage at risk.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1997
I’m very depressed and angry right now. I didn’t feel any cramps or any pain of any kind, so I wasn’t expecting to wipe the few spots of reddish-pink blood I wiped off when I went to pee. So, this is going to be a normal period, huh? What’s normal for me, anyhow. It may be light, but tomorrow I’ll have a fuller flow with cramps. Then the next day I’ll spot off and it’ll be just about over till next month.

And I thought this new little plan of ours was helping me? Well, I obviously thought wrong. I just thought what I wanted to think. I just wanted to believe it’d help me to feel like not having a kid wasn’t the end of the world. Once again, I’m left with anger and hatred towards God, feeling like a freak, hopeless, empty. What am I here for?! If God won’t let me move forward, what does he want me to do, move backward? I tell myself I should go back to dancing. It’s better than cleaning. I hate having to pay others’ incomes, but with two incomes now it won’t hurt as much, some money’s better than none, I’ll get back in shape, and it’s all God would allow for me, next to cleaning or being some kind of cashier. But I refuse to settle! I’ve settled enough! I’ll just be the nothing, nobody, half-woman that I am. It’s like I’ve stepped outside my own body, watching myself be molded, controlled and made to be what God wants, not what I want. I told God, “I hate you! How dare you let murderers have it all. Children, good health, money, the works. But I can’t have my dream and therefore, neither can my husband. All we want is a child. Just a child. We may as well be asking to walk out into our backyard and find a million dollars sitting there, not for a child. We can’t ask for or have a child. That’s too much. Too far out. Too unheard of. Too abnormal. All cuz we didn’t kill in the name of you.” I try to tell myself it’s only cuz God’s looking out for me cuz he knows I could never handle it. Not with my screwy schedule and lungs. But no, he’s punishing me, cuz if he can do anything, why can’t he make me handle it? Why can’t he just put me on a normal schedule, make me repulsed at the idea of smoking and let me take it from there? Cuz he doesn’t give a shit. Cuz he hates me. Cuz he hates my husband and is also punishing him through punishing me.

I want to talk to Tom about how I feel when he comes home, but it won’t change a thing and he’ll just say I’m all wrong and not believe me. He doesn’t believe in women’s intuition, dream premonitions, and being psychic. But each month that I get my period, whether it’s one of those months we hit it right or not, is a sad and scary reminder of just what a half-woman I am and all I can do is think of that dream. That dream wasn’t just a dream. It meant something. It was a tell-tale sign of reality and of what my logic and woman’s intuition has always told me.

A part of me wants to rebel against God and get the years of testing going and tell Dr. Rugg to set us up for testing, even though I know I won’t win and will be told what I already know and what I don’t want to hear. This way, maybe Tom won’t be telling me when I’m 80 that I was always OK and that we just didn’t hit it right.

The other part knows that if I did that, not only would it get me nowhere, but that’s asking for major trouble from God and I don’t want to put my life or my husband’s life in any kind of danger.

I still have death thoughts. I mean, what’s the purpose of my being here? To take up space, cost money, bitch to my husband about stuff that can’t be changed, do my hobbies and clean? I’ve definitely lived my life. My life is surely over. There’s nothing more I can do or achieve. Nothing I could want as bad as a kid. The only way I can literally move on would be to die. That way I can either go to hell, if there is one, and I’ve been in hell enough here, or maybe I’ll come back and kill someone, then have it all. Or at least my top dreams.

I have a husband that’s straight out of a fairytale. I don’t have to be drugged up, live in the places I’ve lived in, be around the people I’ve been around, so, why isn’t that enough? Isn’t it selfish and wrong of me to want more and to want a child, anyway? Why can’t I just be happy with the way things are? It comes back to the same answer, though. I love my husband, I love my hobbies, but I want a child. I don’t want to be or do what God wants me to be or do. I want a child. My husband wants a child. I don’t want to just accept and leave things the way they are, but what kind of wife am I? Just a wife who can’t give her husband or herself what they really want most, besides each other.

All I am is a dreamer. That’s all my life has been based upon are dreams. Wishing I could always keep a schedule, quit smoking, and have a kid. Well, there’s no reason to keep a schedule, except for a few appointments here and there. There’s no reason to quit smoking since I only sing as a hobby and since there’ll never be a child to be up for constantly, day after day, and therefore not wanting the effects of cigarettes to make that all the harder to do and put me at risk of an ER attack, and I certainly don’t want to add any more years to this empty, hopeless life of mine that’s over. And they say your life is over once you have a kid? Well, I wish it was over for that purpose, but no, it’s over cuz I can’t do or have anything I really want. Yes, we may have newer and better gadgets and things, move someday, take a nice trip to California, but that’s it. The first best dream is out of the question.

I almost wish I could go kill Quinn as that way Andy won’t have to worry about going back to him and that way there’ll be one less sicko in this world and then maybe God will love us enough to give us what he gives to 98% of the world. A child. A simple child. Not lots of them. Not a couple of them. Just one child.

Now I look at the what-ifs. What if I hadn’t been a DES daughter? What if I had been fertile? What if I did get pregnant? Would it have made me as happier and as fulfilled as I always believed it would? Or would God have killed it or would he have made me miserable all over again in a new and different way? Could my body really take it? Would I really lose my mind? Would I be another Dureen? Would our marriage get worse or end? Well, no one will ever know the answers to these questions.

Would taking the pregnancy test at the end of this month really be wise? I mean, why should I be a sucker and even more of a fool? A sterile woman taking a pregnancy test? Oh, please!

All I know is that I’ve got to do something. I can’t keep going on like this and going through this month after month, year after year, but you know what? There’s not a damn thing I can do, compliments of God. I’m only right where he wants me to be and right where I’ll always be, with no way to fix this, and with no way out. I can do absolutely nothing about this. My life and my body just don’t belong to me.

I also tell myself a lot, well, if you were just better in bed, maybe Tom would get off more. OK, so I’m not great in bed, and if he got off more and was happy with that, great. But that’s all he could be about it - happy. Not making me pregnant. It doesn’t matter how often we screw, how good we are in bed, how often he gets off, or how happy he is about getting off little, a medium amount, or a lot, I love our fun, I want to get better in bed, I want my husband to be sexually satisfied, happy, complete, but that’s about all that can ever happen and I don’t know about that either. My talents lie in art and music, not sex. I believe Tom when he tells me I’m beautiful and that what he sees doesn’t matter, cuz it’s what his emotions are that counts, but I’m still not the slim, fit person I once was, either.

Later…

Just went to take a dump and this time I wiped nothing off. The spots I had earlier were not enough to flow onto a liner. I still don’t know if I buy the fact that I’ve heard that most women who are in the early stages of pregnancy bleed to some degree or have spots. Pregnant women don’t bleed or spot, do they? Not unless they’re having a miscarriage.

I shouldn’t have thrown my old typed journal stuff to the recyclers. I should’ve used the backs of those sheets for drafts.

I changed Gizzy’s cage the other day. What a breeze it was! It only took me a few minutes.

I did a couple more face drawings yesterday that came out pretty well. Of course, this is one of my trade-offs and compensations for being sterile. Bet I couldn’t draw or sing if I could have a child!

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1997
No lights or cars next door at all from the late afternoon till now.

Miss Hawaii won the Miss USA Pageant.

After tomorrow I’ll be free to not worry about my schedule. I must say I’m proud of myself, though. I really thought that by now, I’d be having a hard time waking up before 4 PM. This must be the longest time I’ve held my schedule within a 4-5-hour time frame in years.

Nicole Brown Simpson and her pal Ronald Goldman, were murdered by O.J. Simpson, of course, and their parents just won an 8.5-million-dollar lawsuit against O.J. O.J. must’ve not had an all-black jury this time around and I still can’t believe some woman like me hasn’t killed him. This killer’s very lucky to be alive, but God would and will see to it that someone like O.J. lives a long, healthy life, with life’s finest offerings and material stuff.

I’m very glad the Browns and the Goldmans won their settlements and I never thought they would, but there are 4 problems with this. O.J. isn’t going to be killed or at least sued like he should be, the Browns and Goldmans will never collect a dime of this settlement, and even if the Browns and Goldmans got the full settlement, O.J. will still be rich. Lastly, O.J. still gets to keep his kids.

Is this a sick world and God we have, or what?

The sick assholes in court say that there’s such a bond between him and the kids and that just cuz he could and did kill his wife, doesn’t mean he can and will kill his kids. Oh yeah?! Well, let me tell you - as soon as those kids step out of line and really piss him off, he will kill them, too. Those kids are in danger and who the fuck do the courts think they’re kidding? Well, I just hope the kids see their dad for what he really is, break away from him and never associate with him. I would think that at least 1 or 2 out of the 4 kids will really wonder about him as they get older, realize the danger there is in being around him, and get away and stay away.

So, that’s the scoop on O.J. Meanwhile, I don’t want to hear his name. I don’t want to see his face. The thought or sight of him makes me sick and madly furious.

Fuck you, God! Just fuck you! For the way you allow this world to be and for the way you run and control my life and body (yes, I think I’ve felt some light pre-cramps). I know I’m gonna get my period. What else is new? It’s the story of my life. However, why do I feel a few so faintly? In fact, I’m not even totally sure they were pre-cramps, but why don’t I have strong, very obvious pre-cramps? Oh well. Tomorrow for sure.

I just hope God doesn’t fuck around with me. I mean, there’s no reason why I should have spots or any other weird episode, but why do I have a very strong feeling that this will not be a normal period? You know, as in too damn light? God’s adding insult to injury. If I must have all my periods, can’t they be normal, so I don’t have to have all this water on me?

After tomorrow night, I’ll be having Andy over to get his birthday presents. The journal and the soap puzzle book. I hope he likes them.

My sore throat is gone now, so that’s one less thing to have to deal with and worry about.

Tomorrow, after seeing Dr. Nielsen, we’re gonna go pick up invoice forms. AMEX needs that in order to pay him. We also have to pick up some stamps.

Tom’s so sweet. He’s gonna give me $20 out of the $200 for testing his program and giving him feedback. With that, plus my $10 of spending money for next month, I’m gonna get two mugs and two puzzles. This is cool, cuz I had thought I was gonna have to wait till May or June for this.

I wish to hell my folk’s package would hurry up and get here! I can’t wait to see these pictures and show them to Tom.

Well, that’s it, I’m out of here!

Later…

Went to see Nielsen today and all looks great. I don’t have to see him again till August 7th.

I’m still having fantastic PMS luck. And I thought last month’s PMS was the easiest? No way. This one’s the easiest I’ve had in probably years. I have no pre-cramps and I’m still not sure if I felt slight pre-cramps last night or not. It was probably just the normal feelings a body feels at times. It’s really weird that I’m not depressed, irritable or horny, but I can’t complain. Tom couldn’t get hit with this AMEX job at a better time, since now’s when I’m usually very horny and want him around as much as possible.

Like I said before, I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a normal period. I have a feeling I’m in for a very light and quick period or another spot attack. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if that were to be my present from God for saying and writing all the things I’ve said and written about him, but hey, I honestly feel the way I do and I wouldn’t have said and written these things if I didn’t. He took away my right to have a child. He can’t punish me any more than he already has, so, go on God, spot me out all you want, or have something go wrong. I’ve been expecting it. It’s about time, huh? I did say that this was to be the year, after all, that sterility would be “proven” so to speak. In a way that even Tom won’t be able to deny. I still don’t know, though, if I could possibly have a problem with some gland or hormones, but we’ll see in March.

The constant peeing has stopped, but I’m still 104. I wonder if I’ll be 106 after I have whatever kind of a period I’m to have when it should be the other way around. You should drop weight after a period. For a while there, I would be at 99, then about 102 at PMS and period times, then go right back to 99 afterward, but not anymore. Who knows, maybe I will have a normal period after all, but there is still something in the back of my mind that says, I don’t think so! As long as God can be kind enough to keep me from having to have any surgery. I’ve had enough. Well, Tom is right more than most of the time, so if he says there’s a 1% chance that something’s wrong, then I believe him. I want to believe him.

I still have a feeling, also, that there’s some other reason for his wanting to get a pregnancy test at the end of this month. If he really wanted to learn about how the test works and all about it, he could research it in an encyclopedia or on AOL or the web. I asked him this and he said something about their information not always being accurate. Oh. Anyway, I’m gonna feel really weird doing this - a sterile woman taking a pregnancy test. What a joke! The question is why is he suddenly so curious and interested in this now? What does he want to do this for? Is there some other reason he hasn’t told me about? If he thought I was pregnant, he’d have said so, and again, how could I be if I were fertile? The shot in the right time frame was too wimpy and I could barely feel it and the bed wasn’t so soaked. The biggie was too late.

Well, all I can do is hope to hell I get a normal period and lose this water. That’s the only choice, next to having a half-assed period or spots and still being all watery.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 1997
Got up at 1 PM today. Only one more day left to hold my schedule steady - yeah! Tomorrow I can sleep till 2:00. I’ll shower tonight, so I won’t have to worry about that tomorrow.

Now AMEX is paying Tom $200 instead of $50. They want him to make a major change in their label printing thing, not a minor change. He wants me to help him out by formatting some disks for his friend Eileen (they used to work together at AMEX), but I don’t know if I know how. Do I? I can’t remember, but if not, he’ll show me what to do.

If I’ve got my facts straight, he’s taking this work to AMEX on Friday, then following Eileen home to do work for her on her computer. She’s gonna pay him, too. In case I didn’t say so before, Eileen and her husband are in their 60s.

So far, my predictions that I wrote down (he did too), that’s sealed in an envelope and not to be read till April 1st, are ringing very true. I saw this extra money coming in, but I didn’t know the source. I couldn’t have said it’d be due to AMEX and Eileen. The only thing I may be wrong on that I predicted would be the amount of his cumming. I said he’d still be cumming 1-3 times a month. We’ll see, but I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if some kind of shit hit the fan making us not have the time to see just how much more or not he could cum.

The freeloaders left before I got up and when I checked a couple of hours ago, I saw one of those city neighborhood vehicles there again, but it wasn’t a van with that logo on it, it was a car. Come to think of it, I don’t think they need a rent sign up. I believe there never was a rent sign up at the house Andy’s renting and that he found it by checking newspaper ads and I think that’s the case here. It’s just in the paper and on fliers.

Later…

I’ve been regular, haven’t eaten yet, and I still weigh a damn 104 lbs.

That mouse’s cage needs to be changed ASAP for sure. It reeks!

I had a sore throat last night and today. Luckily, though, it’s better and I don’t feel like I have a cold.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1997
Just got off the phone with Sandy and Jen. I screwed up, though. I thought that Jen’s birthday was today and that Sandy’s was tomorrow, but it’s the other way around. Oh, well, no big deal, as they said.

Then I called Larry at work. He said it’s gonna be a while before he’s in a talking mood and in the mood for jokes, but he and the others are doing remarkably well. I don’t think one can talk about something too much, in my opinion, but I was afraid they wouldn’t talk enough, as it sounds like they’re balancing communication, work, and other stuff quite well. They are a very strong family. I reminded Larry that if he needed someone to talk to, I was there for him and he appreciated that. That’s all anyone can do for him or any of them I guess.

The phone’s ringing now and I’m sure it’s Andy. I don’t feel like talking as long as he likes to, so I’ll let him leave a message. I hope he’s OK. He’s still putting up with Quinn’s abuse and he called me yesterday about it. He can come to me anytime with any problem, but I wish he’d just ditch this asshole for once and for all. He’s never let anyone else treat him the way he lets Quinn treat him and it’s ridiculous. What happened to the Andy that has self-respect and doesn’t take any shit he doesn’t deserve? I really think he’s mistaking lust for love, but only he knows how he truly feels. Still, how can you love someone who cuts you down all the time and who’s always threatening you? Wouldn’t he or anyone rather be alone than be in a bad relationship? I just want to go over there and shake this guy. I wish he’d move out of state but fat chance. Well, hopefully, he’ll end up in jail for years but fat chance again. These are the kinds of sick assholes that God gives it all to and that are very lucky in money, health, escaping the law, etc.

I hope I finally get the stuff Ma’s sending today and I wish to hell I’d get a call or a letter from Anne and Harry and Paula, but I don’t know about that.

I’m having major PMS luck. All I have is tits that are a bit sore and today’s the second day I’ve been stuck. I won’t count the bloating, since I’m bloated all the time. I have no pre-cramps, but I’m sure they’re well on their way. I’m only 4-5 days away from my rag, so I should get hit pretty hard with cramps any second now.

Of course, now’s when God takes complete control over my body and I have no say in it whatsoever. I say I want to be pregnant, God laughs and makes me get my period. I’m sure it’ll be real light again, though, but all my rights go to him now. There isn’t a damn thing I can do to take charge of my own body.

Today AMEX called Tom (where he used to work), and they want to pay him to do some programming to make some changes to some kind of labels they use for something.

AOL is so fucked up and I’m so sick of their shit. All kinds of people are filing lawsuits against them, cuz it’s so hard to get online. Either that or they’re deliberately kicking people off-line, cuz they just don’t have enough phones and equipment to handle the high volume of traffic. They switched to flat rates just so they could fuck with everyone. They figured they wouldn’t make it easy for people, since they gave us all a break with flat-rate fees.

I’m not sure now if next door really is moving or not. I still see no car over there, but in the early evenings there are lights on usually, then they go off at around 9:30 when she goes to bed. I believe she and the kid get picked up by her dad at around 7:30 AM. There’s also no for-rent or for-sale sign up. This must explain why I don’t have the “new tenant jitters.”

Tom and I agreed to take $10 a month for each of us to buy whatever we want. He used his $10 at the racetrack and I used my $10 to get a new cat mug (a Maine Coon). I also got the animals a treat. I may save the next 3-4 months’ worth of money, so I can buy 2 mugs and 2 puzzles. I certainly won’t be needing journals for quite a while. I’m about at the end of this one, but I have 6 blanks left.

Later…

Yesterday, Tom and I also went to the library where I got two more Dean Koontz books. I also got two audio cassettes where Norah reads the life story of Jill Ireland. I believe she was an actress, too.

Well, now I’ve got to go dry the clothes I’m washing now.

Later…

Tom said to wake him up if he’s not up by 10:00.

I finally did a duty, so no more being stuck.

I think I mentioned sending an email to a theater that I thought may be able to give me an address to send Norah fan mail, but I had no luck. They sent a reply back saying they knew nothing about it or anyone else that did. So, I just tried somewhere else, but I doubt I’ll ever find a way to write to her. I’m still trying to find an address for Writers/Artists. That’s the agency she works for.

Still nothing yet from Mom and Dad, but I sent their letter out today. The one setting them straight about not telling me what to do and all about how I’ll do and say what I so desire. They can either bitch about it or accept it, but that is the way it’s gonna be.

I also sent them a copy of He Was Only Sixteen.

I see a light on next door. I never heard any car doors, signaling someone may have been dropped off there and now I think that they may have a light on a timer to make it look like someone’s there at least in the early evenings. Maybe they have it set to go on at around 7 PM - 10 PM. Maybe they’ve been staying at their new place for the most part during these last several months. Someone had to have been there Sunday night, though, or very early Monday morning, to put their recycle can out, cuz we saw it out there when we left in the mid-afternoon to go to the library and the pet store.

I’m just so amazed at this awesome PMS I’m having. It’s weird, though, how I’m not really horny every minute like I usually am at this time, and a part of me hopes he wakes up too late for sex. Maybe I’ll get in the mood later, though. Still no pre-cramps, but I know that within the next 24 hours, I’m gonna get slammed with them big time. I can tell, though, that this period is gonna be way too light, so all the more, I’ll be retaining more water. I researched water retention in AOL’s encyclopedia and it suggests something could not only be wacky with the hormones but also with the pituitary or thyroid glands, though I hope not. I don’t want to have to deal with any bullshit or pop pills, but if it’ll help me, I suppose it’d be for the better. I just want to know why I’m like this and what I can do about it and that is, after all, what I’m mainly seeing Rugg about.

Later…

Well, the freeloader just came in at a little past 11:00. I’ve never known him to come in at that hour. The music was at a reasonable volume, but I have a feeling that that may only have been due to his having the windows shut. I swear, though, if he goes back to his old earthquaking, bass-thumping shit, I’ll make the little bastard sorrier than all hell. What’s weird about it is why would he come in at just after 11:00? And why on a Tuesday night? I really thought the freeloaders wouldn’t be back till the weekend and no, they’re definitely not moving. That house for rent must’ve been a similarly designed house, but not on this street.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1997
Still no one next door.

Anyway, I may need two Benadryls tonight.

Tom went to the track yesterday. He didn’t win, but he had fun.

Got up at 11 AM today and I only needed one Benadryl last night.

Anyway, now I can explain those “gone vibes” I had about next door and how I kept saying it seemed too good to be true that they’d stay here. Especially since they’ve shut up. It’s when they finally shut up that they move and I thought God was being way too nice as far as neighbors go and that it seemed a logical time for that house to turn over now. The last time we saw the Jeep over there was last Saturday or Sunday. Meanwhile, they take off frequently for a few days at a time.

However, Tom said someone came to the door this morning and thought this house was for rent. The description of the house, though, fit theirs to a T. They’re asking $675, though! Like Tom said, at that ridiculous price, it should be vacant till mid-summer, and then it should take several more months for the price to be talked down. Then he said that as the person was asking him about a house for rent (who knows why our address was on it), some car he never saw before drove in there. So, it looks like that place could be vacant for many months and I hope so. As soon as I hear kids using that basketball hoop or as soon as it looks vacant, I’ll lock the hoop up.

Of course, it could be a mistake altogether. It could be a different street or a completely different number than ours or theirs, but I doubt it. I think they’re moving out little by little and they’ll never be back as of any time now. They may already be gone for good.

I have no vibes yet on what’s coming in there next, but logic tells me that although that bass really frayed my nerves, God’s not gonna be so kind the next time around. Except for the bass, they were great neighbors. Well, I did just say, after all, that God’s been way too good to me lately, as far as neighbor’s noise goes. Also, it seemed the perfect time for them to move, now that they’re hardly ever there and have been quieter. God’s gonna get me good for these last several months of peace and really compensate the hell out of me. It’ll either be the bass that can wake me up or a bunch of loud kids, who scream and play ball constantly and have a dog or two. Yup, another M family.

Naturally, I don’t feel as victorious as I used to when seeing a prediction I’ve made come true. It now only serves as a reminder as to how right my vibe is about never having a kid.

Later…

Tom just did some awesome backyard work. He raked up those roof bits that were all over the lawn and he cut down half of the hedges against the wall that divides our backyard from theirs, where the clothesline is.

He said he could hear someone working over there. Maybe it’s the landlord getting the place ready for the next tenants, that’ll hopefully not move in for a year. Now that’s asking for way too much. I guess I sense that the new people will move in in 6-9 months, but that’s pushing it. That’d take major luck, even if the price is outrageous. I just hope that everyone who comes to see it doesn’t like what they see for as long as possible, though.

Tom had wondered why a truck didn’t come to move them out. Well, a truck didn’t come to move them in, either. There was a truck there, but it was only some kind of service truck. Mike had told me they moved in little by little over about a month’s time, so obviously, they’ve been moving out little by little. That must explain why I hear so many doors shut when they leave. Cuz each time they’ve come around, which has been once or twice a week over the last several months, they’ve taken something with them. At least I won’t have to worry about some summer parties. I’m sure that if they had been here this summer, there’d have been a few all-day parties just like last summer. It did always seem that these were hot-weather people.

Once again, sterility’s so obvious. How could I have a lifelong vibe hold up since I’ve known Tom then suddenly end up being wrong while I predict other smaller things accurately? There’s no way. I know I’m right about the sterility. I’m not gonna sense something like this so strongly all my life, then end up wrong.

Last night I had the best luck ever with drawing. I did another woman, just like the night before and it’s probably my best ever.

Later…

I just took all of my songs and put them each in different fonts. I’ll still keep those and my letters I do in different fonts, but from now on these journals will be in easy-to-read, complete fonts. Different colors, though.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1997
I have a couple of things to write about that are good news. In fact, I was so excited that I had trouble sleeping after taking the Benadryl and didn’t get up till 11 AM today. I’ve got to really watch it now. I still have 5 more days I can’t afford to wake up too late.

The minor piece of good news is that they did return last night. Well, I didn’t know they returned due to hearing them blast in, but due to looking and seeing the car there. They left again this morning before I woke up.

It’s been peacefully quiet today. Not even those damn dogs are going off.

The major piece of good news is that Tom broke a record and came last night. It hasn’t even been a week since he last came, and he’d normally go 2-4 weeks before cumming again! How wrong I was yet again! He believes it is definitely due to our new plan where I keep talking and keep getting things out before I blow up. In 4-to 5 days is where I’m gonna have to really watch it and keep it together as the PMS sets in. No pre-cramps today, but my tits are getting a bit sorer. Not too bad, though, like I thought it’d be.

I wish one of us had come up with this grand idea last July. I’m glad he thought of it, cuz I’d never have thought of it in a million years. Never again will I ever bash the idea of communication. I had thought it’d start fights, but nope, we just say what we feel and believe and that’s it, whether we agree with each other or not.

It was great to wake up today, for the first time in a while, and have good feelings and hope and positive energy. Although I know that some of these feelings may be false and just wishful thinking and that in the end, I won’t succeed, it’s still a nice breath of fresh air, rather than waking up with that typical feeling of doom and sadness. Followed by emptiness, anger, frustration, and just not wanting to live.

We have a case of too little and too late, though. Meaning, that even if I were as fertile as a Mexican, the last shot was too late and the one before it was too little.

Not only is Tom beating the pants off me as far as sexual progress goes, but he’s also proven to be a much better detective than I am. Especially with his much broader knowledge of computers, AOL, and the web.

He found the agency Norah works for and the drama school she went to in England. Also, the fact that she just performed there and is doing theater work. Lastly, a guy who claims to have a naked picture of her and that he gives pictures to people for free. Well, today I tried to find a way to send an email to these people and places to get the picture and to see if there’s an address to send her fan mail but had no luck. All I found was an address that might be that theater and I sent them mail asking them if they knew how I could send fan mail to her or someone else who knew how I could go about doing that.

I’ve been doing a cigarette experiment by smoking stronger cigarettes to see if it helps to cut me down. It is, but not by much. My lungs are OK, though.

I got very lucky with my drawing last night. Did one that was so-so, but I also did one that came out pretty darn good, and am happy with it. Still wish I could draw anything, anytime, though.

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Last updated June 16, 2024