March 1997 in 1990s

MONDAY, MARCH 31, 1997
You know, Tom’s been very productive and helpful around here, but I still wish that I was number 1 and that his ma was number 2. I asked him for a Hitchhiker guide about a week ago and I still haven’t gotten that. Nor has he taken off the sides of Piggy’s old cage, which should take no time at all, so I can use it as an outdoor table.

Also, I’m really afraid I’m making a big mistake with this so-called compromise. He knows he’s not gonna cum 3 days in a row, and I’m afraid I’m only asking to be hurt and that I’ll just make a fool of myself. I still wish I knew why he does stuff like this. Why does he go and make promises he can’t keep? He’s gonna use his I-tried-but-just-could’t-get-off line as an excuse to cover for the truth. He knows better and this is a classic case here that’s got me really believing he enjoys playing with me and telling me what I want to hear, like never before.

Later…

That nagging feeling is still nagging at me. I’m just asking to be hurt. I just know it. I know he made a promise he couldn’t and wouldn’t keep and so does he. He just promised he’d cum that much to tell me what I want to hear to get me to go to the doctor. That’s all it is. Both he and God will see to it that he can’t cum or that he just doesn’t cum. There’ll be some excuse and Tom will say he’s hurt by me calling him a liar and claim it wasn’t his fault. I can see this whole thing played out. I know exactly how it’s gonna play out. For him to lie so boldly, makes me believe like never before, he’s looking forward to the reaction he’ll be expecting from me. And yes, I do intend to tell him everything I’ve written about it. Yes, I will call him a liar.

Really, I know I should not take my husband’s word at face value. No sir. Not this time. It’s all a lie. Just pure bullshit to get me off his back, so he can prove his point about timetables. So he can sweet-talk me into the appointment with what I want to hear.

Why doesn’t God want me to see that he won’t let us have a kid? I mean, I know it in my heart, gut and mind, but I want to see it. I want Tom to keep his promise, cum on the days he said he would, then see for myself that I’m right about God. I’m dreaming. I’m only kidding myself. Why did I set myself up to be hurt? I should’ve never gone along with this agreement. How could my own husband do this to me? How could he so boldly lie to me and stand there and tell me that he’s gonna stick to our agreement and that he promises it’ll happen and he’ll cum when we agreed he would? Oh, what did I get myself into?

I’ll be almost just as pissed if he only cums one of those days, cuz if a 31-year-old DES daughter stands the slightest chance of conceiving and changing God’s mind, one dose of his cum ain’t gonna do it. He’d need to cum 3 days in a row. At least.

Well, I can tell you this much. I know my husband’s lying. And as soon as I see so on the 17th - 19th, our sex life is over!

Andy’s getting phone pushy again. I told him when I got up at 11 AM, that I’d be busy all day today and didn’t want to spend a half-hour to an hour on the phone. Besides, I just talked to him. What does he do, though? Leaves a message saying I can call him now.

I just want him to let me know, as soon as he can, when’s the best time Marla can come over with her kids, so I can be ready. Brian’s 9, but that 3-year-old better not trash this place! Marla, though, is a rare breed of mother. I’m sure she’s taught her kids not to do things like this and if the 3-year-old does do something, she’d tell him no.

I also told Andy that Tom would more than likely be asleep, so they have to be quiet. Not whisper quiet, but not loud, either.

Later…

I forgot to mention that Lisa’s gonna be using the card I wrote her in Spanish for her Spanish class in school. She said her teacher said to bring in any Spanish letters anyone may get, for their class to translate.

I just had a funny 20-minute conversation with Ma. Tom’s mom, that is. Well, she was telling me that she thought her clothes looked better on her when she was fat and that she had to take everything in.

That’s not fair! I told her I thought my clothes looked better on me when I was thin and how I needed to take me in. We were talking about how we wished we could see ourselves the way guys see themselves. They’re so much less self-conscious.

Anyway, an old friend of hers came to take her to a fancy Greek restaurant. She said she hadn’t been to a fancy restaurant in a long time. I told her we should go to the China Doll together. A fancy Chinese restaurant. I told her that if I had a car I’d come get her and she said that if she could drive she’d come get me.

Then we had a funny chat about religion. I told her that Tom told me what Christmas and Easter stood for and I told him that I never knew what it was all about. He said that I’d have no reason to, being Jewish. True. Then Ma was saying she didn’t know how the Easter bunny that delivers colored eggs got into it. Well, I don’t know what the dreidel has to do with Chanukah, either.

I was telling her how Jewish kids at the beach would see if they could get God to part the ocean like he was supposed to have done so with a sea for the Jews to escape the enemies. She said that when she was a kid, kids would see if they could walk on water like Jesus was supposed to have been able to.

I never heard that one before, but you know me, I think that most religious stories are just a bunch of tall tales.

SUNDAY, MARCH 30, 1997
Tom went over to his Ma’s house to take her to church, this Easter Sunday. Mary and Dave were there and Tom brought back the caps and connectors Mary had for me. Ma also sent some fruit juice back with him for me.

I went to call Tammy and Lisa answered. She said it was 70º, but that tomorrow it was to be 30º with a snowstorm. Typical New England. I still laughed at her, anyway. Tammy said she didn’t know if it was an April Fool’s joke by the meteorologist or what.

Tammy also said that she and Bill were out cutting wood for next winter. I reminded her that if she lived out here, she wouldn’t have to worry about that shit.

I think I’ll go call AOL and see what they say.

Later…

I would’ve done a lot more writing a lot earlier, but I spotted a bee in here, so I had to have Tom take care of that. There were also little spider tents set up along the outside patio ledge, so I raided those, then swept away their little campsite.

We were supposed to spend time together, but I guess he found a movie he’d rather see. Him and that TV, I swear. I think he watches more TV, than he does computer work, even though computers are his #1 thing.

I checked both Norwich and Springfield weather forecasts and Norwich doesn’t say anything about snow, but they’re to get a lot of rain. Same with Springfield, but Springfield is going to get snow on Tuesday. Their average high is gonna be between 32º-38º and their average low is gonna be between 25º-29º. I called Andy and left him a message about that, so he can laugh at them, while we have our dry, beautiful days of 80+º.

Now for some good news. I woke up at 104! Once again, though, as soon as I’d been up for about an hour, I was back to 106. You zigzag when you lose or gain weight. You tend to hit a lower number very briefly a few times, before holding down at it. Any time now, I’ll hold 104 for a while, though.

It feels so good to be off that Aerobid, which was such a big mistake. I don’t miss being so emotional and moody. I was moody at all times of the month. Now, here I am about 4 days away from my period and I feel fine. Yup, I’ve definitely felt the best overall, both physically and mentally since being out here. I know I’ll never have a child, but at least I feel so much more at peace and happier and content. I want to do more things that I really really want to do, but if I must only do what I’ve been doing for the rest of my life, it could be much worse. Anything’s better than my back-east life. Or moods of such depression where I feel I want to drop dead. I also know I’ll never have that full-time sex life, but again, things could be worse.

Later…

I didn’t know this, but Tom wanted sex right after the movie which ended a half-hour ago. Just as it ended, I went to listen to music for a half-hour, so we only had time for him to go down on me, but not to screw. If he wanted sex bad enough, he should’ve come and got me. My stereo’s not going anywhere, but you know how he is. He can do without.

And he thinks he’s gonna cum 2-3 days in a row like he promised? What a joke! Why does he make promises he can’t keep?

Still, I enjoyed his going down on me.

There’s an Oleander tree out back that Tom’s gonna kill cuz it’s poisonous. He says it could hurt Bunny if he chewed its leaves. Tom noticed Bunny chewing the bark of it for the first time, so he hacked a lot of it up and will finish killing it in the next couple of days, he says. Hopefully, that doesn’t really mean weeks or months.

We took pictures, too. I took one of the front of Piggy and Bunny’s cage as well as one from the side, so you can see how long it is. Then Tom took a couple of me in my new sundress, feeding the birds. All the other bird pictures I had taken didn’t have any of them eating off my hand while I was standing. I stood to the side a little, so the length of my hair could be shown, too. We also took a picture of Bunny and Piggy sitting side by side outside on one of the white plastic chairs, right by the flag. Then one of Bunny running across the yard.

We ran out of film before we could take one of Gizzy, but now that he’s awake, I’ll take his picture with the new roll we loaded. I wanted to shoot him running on his wheel. Meanwhile, we’re having two rolls developed. Some of these pics will be from when we went to CA.

Later…

It’s just about 9:00 and it feels like it’s around midnight, for some reason. Anyway, I want to write about a couple more things before I start unwinding and relaxing with the last book Ma gave me.

We shot some pictures of Gizzy, but we aren’t sure if they’ll come out OK. Shooting through the glass, probably created a nasty glare.

To my utter amazement, I haven’t heard those dogs, but I just now shut off the fan, so I’m sure I’ll hear them and need to turn it right back on. Although they are outside 24/7, they’re heard more in the daytime during the winter months and at night in the summer months. Nonetheless, there’s one more thing I’m going to do to attempt to get these dogs to shut up. Yes, I know it’ll do me no good. Yes, I know God will get me for it, but I feel the need to do this. Although anything’s better than the bass and although I almost never hear next door, I’m fed up with these dogs. I’ve been fed up with these dogs and since I don’t know anyone who’ll shoot them, the only thing I can think of is to slip a letter in the mailbox of that cop across the street. I know I should tell myself, hey, at least you’ve been able to sleep. There are worse places and worse noise than this, but it’s always one thing or another no matter where you live unless you live in a house that doesn’t have so many houses so close to each other. Aside from that dog that had that screaming, shrilly bark, I’ve never heard such fierce, loud, grating, obnoxious barking anywhere I’ve ever lived before. These dogs can be heard loud and clear throughout the whole fucking house. Having a peaceful day in the backyard is a dream. I can’t even hang up laundry in peace.

Now I know that this cop won’t do shit about it and I know that God will punish me for it like I said. And in the extremely unlikely event that the cop did do something about it, God will go and do something else, I’m sure. Bring back the bass, or whatever. I know I could be asking for worse trouble, but like I said, I feel I need to do this, even though I’ll get no results and I’ll get punished.

Naturally, I won’t tell Tom about it. He acts like all neighbors are saints who can do no wrong, and if they do, how dare you complain about them! He’s normally more sensitive than most women, let alone most guys, yet he once made the comment, “Those dogs don’t bother anyone.”

Oh, so I don’t count? He never heard me say how much they bother me? He never heard that old lady Gloria say they bothered her when she bought something when we had our tag sale? Please!

Well, I basically got right to point in that letter to the cop. I said I didn’t want to give my name, cuz I didn’t want the people I was complaining about to know it was me making the complaint. I told him that I tried calling about this problem and that I just got the runaround. And how they said I had to have 3 other neighbors complain along with me and that I couldn’t remain anonymous. I told him that he wouldn’t hear the dogs as much as I do cuz of where his house is, but that it was horrendous and that I felt I had nowhere else to turn.

He’ll know it’s me. Somehow, someway, I just know it, but I hope to hell he doesn’t come to the door here.

Again, God is really gonna get me for this. I said it before and I’ll say it again: God may bless some that murder, but to him, my writing this complaint is a major no-no. I still have to do what I have to do. He can stop me from having a child, but he can’t stop me from writing this note.

Andy’s not the only one that’s having a problem with neighbors. From what he’s told me, he hasn’t had too many problems with other people’s noise. He’s a pothead and sleeps through anything. He’s about as much of a heavy sleeper as I was when I was on the “tranks.”

Some girl that lives in a nearby complex that’s one of God’s typical abusive moms, came over to ask to use his phone. He told her no, cuz he didn’t know her and he also had to leave soon for work. At that time, she was nice about it and even said, “God bless you, anyway.”

Then, he was cutting through her druggie, low-life complex cuz he used to know someone who lived there and she called to him. Then she called him all kinds of names, cuz she couldn’t use his phone and told him not to cut through “her” complex cuz of it. All this was at 1:00 in the morning, right in front of her 7-year-old son. Way to go, God! God really knows how to pick ‘em. Mothers, I mean. So, he didn’t say anything. He just let her get it out, then he returned home.

So, he wanted me to beat her up, cuz he felt she deserved to be knocked down a peg or two. Well, I agree. And I also agree that her son should be taken away from her.

I told Andy, though, that this drugged-up crazed bitch didn’t threaten him or do anything to him or to his property, so I’d just let it go. If she did try to hurt him or his house or car, that’d be different and yes, I’ll fight for him in that case. He asked me what I’d do and I told him that if someone yelled at me every now and then, OK. But if someone yelled at me all the time, or threatened me just once, just once, I’d be all over them at that point. Also, if someone tried to do something to our house or to Tom. Andy did bring up a point, though. He said that if I had been him, I’d have gotten so pissed that I’d have decked her. Then I thought about it and I realized - he’s probably right. Cuz that would’ve brought back some very uncool memories for me. As a rule, though, I like the other person to strike first, cuz then I have an honest, fair, legit and legal reason to swing back. If I had been in his shoes, though, I’d no doubt have said something like, “Yeah? You wanna fight about it?” And then if she had backed off, I’d have backed off. If she had swung, however, I’d be swinging back in a frenzy.

He said that at first he was angry when he went back home, sat out front, and thought about it. Then he felt pity for her.

Well, I hope he has no more encounters with this sick bitch, cuz then I will be over there to take care of it.

SATURDAY, MARCH 29, 1997
I got up at 7:30 and have done laundry and writing for the most part today.

Tom went to his mother’s this morning. She got an emergency medical alarm installed and he wanted to be there to make sure she’d be safe. Some sickos in this world like to go to old people’s places with stuff like that and rip them off. He said she used my name as her password. Wow! That’s nice. I told Tom to tell her I’m honored. I thought she’d use the names Ray, Evie, Nickolena or Parker. Or no name at all.

We screwed this morning and he just was not into it, but I got off. I reminded him that we made a compromise that we promised each other we’d do. I’d go to the doctor. He’d inject me 3 days in a row. He says, “It’ll happen. I promise you. I promise I’ll stick to our agreement.”

Then why do I have a feeling that there’s no way in hell he could or even would stick to his end of the promise? And that he may just be telling me what I want to hear and maybe even playing games, too? If he can only cum once in 1-2 weeks, how’s he gonna cum 3 days in a row?! Well, I’ll just try my best to shut up about it, be as available and as relaxed as I can be till that time, and we’ll see what he does. It hasn’t been no 1-2 weeks lately, though. He hasn’t gotten off at all in the month of March and I think the last time he did get off was before my last period.

I reminded him that he’s supposed to say I’m great in bed cuz I’m his wife and he loves me, but I sure as hell feel like I suck in bed and that I wondered if he really felt that, too? If it’s true, that I suck in bed, he’s not gonna come out and tell me that. Still, he insists I don’t suck in bed, all’s fine, and that he will carry out his end of our promise. I sure hope so! When he said, “It’ll happen,” well, what he meant by that was either that he’d cum when he agreed he would, or that I’ll get pregnant, or both. Well, if he does cum when he promised and I’m not pregnant, that won’t be his fault. That’s on God. But this is the only way we can really prove me right or wrong, as I said before. It goes without saying that he can cum anytime he wants to, but I told him this - we agreed he’d cum on the 17th - 19th. But that’s only if I get my period on the 4th. If I get it on the 3rd, then, if he doesn’t cum on the 19th, that won’t be considered him breaking his promise. Watch. With my luck, I’ll get it on the 2nd. That’ll leave us only the 17th, after the appointment, to screw and that’ll end up being the wrong day, cuz I won’t be on a 28-day cycle that month. God will see to it. There’s no use crying over something like this, though, cuz if he came every day before, during, and after that time frame, God will make sure we don’t hook up all the same. Won’t you God?

Anyway, I’m just about 100% sure that he’ll either cum one or none of those days, and then say that I can’t say he deliberately broke his promise when he tried his best, but just couldn’t cum. Besides, we already know he hates timetables and that he swears that the best way is to not plan certain times to have sex. So, I’d think that all the more, he’s gonna be eager to use this to prove his point. His excuse is gonna be just this; he felt too pressured, tried his best, but I have no grounds to be upset or mad at him. Or maybe it’ll be something I did, but of course, he won’t tell me it was my fault. Just make me feel that it was and imply that it was.

Well, right now he’s out looking in an office store to see if he can find a package of odd-size envelopes to use for my father’s birthday card. Still, I have one I made up, in case he has no luck.

We ordered those new address labels today and therefore, I should get those around mid-May.

He’s home now, so we’ll see what he found. I wonder if he found new lights for the back room. I hope so. We need a brighter fluorescent light by the computer and we could use lights in the two dead ceiling fans back there. Of course, he’s gonna take the fans out.

Later…

Tom didn’t find any suitable envelopes, but he got a package of manila envelopes that’d be perfect for sending pictures in.

He got himself 5 game CDs and he’ll get a $10 rebate on that.

Well, it looks like I’m gonna finish the book I’m reading and then I’ll have just one more left to read.

Today turned out to be a pleasant day. No stupid fights or arguments.

The weather was gorgeous. A little hot, but now, it’s so nice. I still wish we had some nice outdoor furniture out there. The kind my folks would have for sure. I’d love a comfy, cushioned lounge chair and that comfy, cushioned rocker we once saw. And a table with an umbrella. We at least have two decent chairs out there that I keep far enough away from where the birds mainly hang out, so they won’t shit those up. You know me, though, always wanting stuff I either can’t have or can’t have for eons.

FRIDAY, MARCH 28, 1997
This weekend Tom and I will have enough fun, I’m sure, since nothing will need to get in our way now. I can’t say that it wouldn’t want to, though, but I hope not.

Is Tom ever gonna find a way to make my drawings not look so dark and hazy, so I can print out copies for Larry and Tammy? And find me a Hitchhiker guide? Probably not for quite a while. Norah was in episode 25 of The Hitchhiker called The Killer. I want a guide to when that episode will be on and on what channel.

I got a neat idea to make an outdoor table. The weather’s good at this time of year to be out there writing. As long as I’m shaded. We could take the sides off of Piggy’s old cage and I could use that.

Bunny was out running around outside earlier. We can tell when he needs to go out. When he gets pretty rambunctious, it’s time to let him out. Sometimes, he thinks he’s a dog and not a rabbit.

I decided it was finally time to play around with Bob, so I sent him a letter. Not from me, though. I said I was Andy and that Tom and Jodi were out to dinner and that I was just there to use the computer. I said that Jodi still cares about him and why she stopped writing to him. Of course, I mixed in some nonsense, too.

Tom was kind enough to pick up stamps today, so I sent Tammy, Bill, and the girls’ cards out today, too.

Later…

I tried, yet again, to track down Paula and am having no luck. There’s one more with her last name that I’m gonna try calling in Enfield, CT. It’s been busy, though. She’s definitely got to be in jail. Something’s up, anyway. Whoever got the letter I sent to Liberty St. in Springfield, got the letter for sure, cuz it was never returned, but you know what I think? I think her friend moved out and didn’t leave a forwarding address so the next tenant got it. Paula’s the type that knows plenty of people, who like her, move around every few months and this person was probably too stupid to leave a forwarding address. Or they could’ve moved in with someone they knew or maybe they just don’t know how to write or don’t care to.

If she’s in jail, though, and if this person did get my letter, couldn’t they give it to her in jail so she could write to me? Well, I hope she’s alive and well out there, wherever she is.

Paula, are you out there? Are you OK?

I wonder what’s going on in the lives of Jessie, Jai, and Steve. I hope that they, too, are OK.

OK, let me go try this last possible number that I could get, but I’m sure they won’t be related to her and know who the hell she is. I wonder if she’d use her pre-adopted name, Viola C? I doubt that.

Later…

Well, forget that, too.

I also tried calling Clearwater, Florida for info. I believe she said her dad lives there, but I forgot his first name. And besides, they only had one listing and the last name was spelled slightly differently. I think this means it wasn’t meant to be and that I’ll just have to never talk to her again unless she contacts me or I find she’s got a listed number someday. I’ll check every few months, so I’ll check again around the first of July. Oh well, though. I can live without ever speaking to her again if I must.

I actually woke up at 105 pounds, but I knew that this was just the microscopic tip of entering 105 and that it would be a while before I held that steadily. I knew that if I just threw on my robe, I’d be back up to the 106 that I’ve been at for about 4 days now. I think this is it now, though, and that I’ll slowly lose the weight. I usually gain or lose in 2s, so next I’ll probably hang at 104 for a while. Not 105.

The proofreading of the Oswego and Woodside docs is done. Now I’ve jumped up to the first 180 pages or so of group 100-119, cuz it was at that point that I began to cap stuff with the macro Tom wrote. Then, I’ll get back in order from where I left off and will have 7 more groups to read. The groups, however, are pretty big. They range from about 150 pages to 400 pages.

Ever since we let Bunny outside, he’s been lying down. Guess it really wears him out, but he needs to do this and run around and get good exercise. It’s so cute how he constantly runs up to the side of the cage, when I walk by, for me to pat his head.

Gizzy’s upstairs asleep. So he does two things. He’s either asleep up in his burrow or awake downstairs on his wheel. I’m still surprised he doesn’t prefer to sleep in the trap that I’ve still got downstairs in the aquarium part. Well, Mary’s cage, as I call it, is roomier than that barely 1” wide trap. As long as he has a workable wheel, food, and a good burrow, he feels at home. He could escape easily, but that is his home now and he’s comfy there.

The $200 check from AMEX finally came today and now we can order those Snoopy and desert labels. And maybe Ma’s puzzles and some thriller paperbacks I picked out from a form in the back of one of the books. I’m now reading the second to the last of all the books Ma gave me. Then, I guess it’s time to go to the library. She doesn’t get books too often from this guy and usually, they’re not the kinds I like.

THURSDAY, MARCH 27, 1997
Last night I left Tom a message right before he got up, telling him I was tired and was gonna go lay down. Also, if I fell asleep, to wake me up if he wanted to have fun. The original plan was to screw when he got up. I did fall asleep, though, and he left a message that I got when I got up at 5 AM, saying he expected grief for it, but that he just couldn’t wake me up. He is a polite, thoughtful guy, but I’m sure another reason why he didn’t wake me up was cuz he just doesn’t get that horny and desperate like I do. I wasn’t mad at him, though. I was mad at myself, cuz I promised him we’d screw when he got up. And even if it doesn’t matter to him as much as it does to me, and even though he could take it or leave it, I still gave my word.

It’s very unusual for me to fall asleep after being up only 14½ hours and it still feels like something’s trying to make sure we don’t have sex that much. But why now? It’s perfectly safe now. There’s no way I could get pregnant now.

The other day, Tom was telling me of an anecdote he’d heard. About this couple who were trying to get pregnant and couldn’t. As usual, the woman was all freaked out about it, but the man handled it just fine. Then they went to a doctor who told them they’d tried their best, done all they could on their own, so in 3 months they would be put through testing. But before they could get tested, she was pregnant. Yeah, I’m not surprised. Most women with problems do win in the end and do end up pregnant, but not this woman. Oh no, not me. I’m not gonna be one of those typical women who wins in the end and gets the baby. It’s not meant to be. I think I heard stats say that 10% of women have problems conceiving and that 8% somehow, manage to conceive in time. Yeah well, I’m just in that 2% of those who don’t and can’t conceive in time.

I’ve said that maybe God knows something I don’t, and maybe he knows he’s gonna change his mind in time, but that was just pure wishful thinking. However, maybe there is something else he knows that I don’t. It hurt really bad for years, knowing I couldn’t be a singer, but I got over it. Maybe he knows I’m gonna get over the kid and even be content and glad that we never did have a kid, but did he have to make me suffer all these years? Well, I just hope that when the next thing comes along that I want real bad, it won’t hurt. And if it does hurt, try not to make it be for so many years, OK God?

Later…

Just when I was thinking, wow, those dogs have been quiet all morning, the kids get out there and stir the fucking dogs up. I don’t mind the kids, but they fucking excite the dogs and then I have to deal with that all the more.

We screwed after he got home from work. Naturally, he was too tired to get off, though, cuz it was the end of his day. Oh well. Maybe tonight.

I sometimes still wonder if he doesn’t actually enjoy people waiting on him and if he’s still making sure he doesn’t cum that much. I asked him if he’s still gonna stick to our compromise and he said yes. Does he even realize, though, that part of this compromise means cumming during mid-cycle? And not just 1 day, but for 3 days? It’s the only way we’re ever gonna either prove or disprove my belief.

Anyway, he was my hero this morning. I accidentally replaced the Elm doc with another copy of my Oswego doc. So, he showed me how to restore it from the floppy disk I backed it up on. I was wrong, though, when I said I thought you’d have to search through each disk to find out where a particular file is. It tells you what disk it’s on by giving you the disk number.

There was a good God with me this time, though! I had just changed all my entry dates in the Elm file when I told myself I should back it up just in case. Just 5 minutes later was when I lost it cuz of the dumb mistake I made.

Anyway, if Dr. Bock gets a readable PAP, it’ll be for two possible reasons. She either knows what she’s doing, or it was cuz we didn’t screw for a few days prior to it. Yes, there’s always a price to pay for sex. Always a problem with it. God’s really hexed my sex life in all different kinds of ways from the get-go of it. If she gets a bloody PAP, that too, could be for two possible reasons. She, too, doesn’t know what she’s doing, or God’s just playing around with me and giving me a hard time. That’d be really low of him. If you’re gonna have the cruelty to sterilize a woman, can’t you at least let her have normal paps and let her go to the GYN just once a year and not 2 or 3 times? Jesus!

To expand on the subject of signs. Well, I think Gemini and Leo women are the biggest assholes. My bitchy sister is a Leo. So was Rosemarie. Also, Andy’s sign is very fitting for him. You know, Aqueerian, as he says.

Later…

I just called Ma (Tom’s), as I do every now and then, just to say hi. Someone was there measuring the room, cuz she’s getting new carpet for her living room and kitchen area which is shaped like an L. I thought Tom was gonna put down new carpet? They had talked about it. She said, though, that she felt that was too much to ask of him and that he does enough for enough people. Ain’t that true! I have a feeling, though, that Tom’s not gonna be happy about this. He likes to do stuff like this and he wouldn’t mind steady work for a few days, on top of all else he does. How do I feel about it? Well again, he likes the work and doesn’t mind the extra time and money, but I think it’d steal our already precious time, so I have mixed emotions about it. Still, that was sweet of her to consider this and since she’s the one being recarpeted, she has to do what she thinks is best and what’ll make her happy.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 26, 1997
I think I forgot to mention that I had told my sister I had a bad vibe pertaining to her and her family but didn’t know who or any details. Then, Bill was hospitalized, cuz he couldn’t stop puking. He’s been out of the hospital since last week. Is God ever gonna give that family a break, too? My whole side of the family is cursed in one way or the other. It isn’t just me.

Anyway, today Tom was gonna come home from work (he isn’t home yet), then we were both going to go take Mom to the doctor for an EKG, then bring her home, then come home ourselves. Originally, Nora was gonna take her, but then Tom told me yesterday that she couldn’t take her, so he would and I was welcome to come along.

At first I was thinking to myself, God must’ve said, “No. Nora’s not the one I want mainly taking care of her. It’s Tom I want. I’ve got to keep him busy enough and make sure they don’t reproduce.” Not like we can now, anyway. I couldn’t believe that Nora of all people was helping her with anything.

Then I got mad at myself for thinking, “We’ve got to take our child to the doctor. Just another way of making sure Tom and I have no time this morning to screw.” Then I realized we did screw yesterday, he’d be too tired to after working all night, and that I was being selfish. I mean, this is a sweet lady that I love dearly and if I were in her shoes, I’d want someone I knew and trusted to help me, too.

So, she called about 15 minutes ago to tell me that Nora was going to be taking her after all and to tell Tom he didn’t need to take her. I told her we were both gonna take her. Then she said, “Oh darn,” in a disappointed voice, as soon as she knew I was to be going along with Tom. I realized again, wow, she really does love to see me. So, she said she still wanted to see me some other time and that she still intended to come over here to see the house and my artwork.

Then I told Ma that my schedule varies, but that I’m now on days, so maybe real soon she can come over. She then said she never could do that and that she had a set schedule. I told her I envied her and that I don’t do this by choice, but that I still get done what’s got to be done as best I can, no matter when I’m up. She was so accepting of it. She never once thought that was weird or told me I should do something about it and I told her that one of the many things I love about Tom is that you’ve gotten me to see that that’s just how I am, even though I’d still change it if I could, and she agreed.

Last night I called Mary, cuz I wanted to tell her all about how I’ve set up Gizzy’s cage. Gizzy is using the second floor more so and at first, I was afraid he’d ignore it, but right now he’s asleep up in the burrow.

So, I told Mary that now that my mug collection was just about over, I wanted to get tubes and little by little build a maze for Gizzy. I asked about prices on tubes and if they came with connectors and caps. Then she said she had extra connectors and caps and that she’d put together a bag for me and then all I’d have to do is buy tubes.

That was so nice of her!

She then asked if Tom were up and I told her that he wasn’t. She said she never knew when he was up or not. I told her it varied. Then she asked me when I slept. I told her, “Call it a problem, call it weird, but my schedule varies.” Then she said that there was nothing wrong with that. Again, I thought, what a family!

I forgot to mention something else Andy and I talked about yesterday that was kind of funny. Well, he was going on and on about how the Gemini women he knows, can be loving and caring but are mostly vicious bitches who’ll spite their own selves just to spite others. I told him he was describing my mother perfectly. Then he asked if she was a Gemini. I told him she was, and he said that that’s so fitting for a woman like her to be a Gemini.

To expand more on the compromise Tom and I made. Well, I know that no matter what we do or how often we do it, a child isn’t meant to be, but in exchange for me getting another PAP done (one more time only!), we can make the time to screw during mid-cycle. That’s sweet of him, but it won’t work if he doesn’t cum and as long as God says no to our having a kid. I’ll just go along with this, though, even though it’s a pointless waste of time. I do like sex, though!

He hasn’t cum at all in March and now I’m starting to wonder if he’s back to his days of not cumming. And also, if it could have to do with the potential visit coming up with my folks. He says life still goes on and we still have to do what we’ve got to do, but deep down, he may want to wait till after the visit, to avoid any possible conflict with that and so that I’m not hit with too much at once. Well, if they really are coming, God knows it. And also, if God does have it in our cards to grant us a kid, he ain’t gonna do so before they get here. No way. I don’t know how or why I know this, but I just do.

Well, I think it still all comes down to fate. It doesn’t matter if and when he cums and how much when fate is fate and a kid isn’t part of our fate. If it is a part of our fate, if it’s a part of anyone’s fate, God says when. Not people. God’s the one that creates or doesn’t create life.

I didn’t put this together during my early to mid-20s, but back when I was having constant yeast infections, it was mostly when I was fooling around with women. Now I know that that was his way of saying he didn’t want any women down there and he was cursing my privates for it. It was like a symbol he put there as a sign telling me that what I was doing was wrong for me and why he didn’t prevent me from being with a woman in the first place, beats me. Of course, I didn’t know any of this at the time, as I said before.

Well, if there’s anything about God that’s out of character when it comes to dealing with me, it’s that he hasn’t done anything serious to my female parts. Why hasn’t he? You’d think he would, to symbolize and remind me who owns and operates my plumbing (not that I need it). In a way, I wouldn’t be surprised if the bloody PAPs were from sex. Leave it to God to compensate me like that. Cuz he lets me have sex with someone I love, I have to pay for it with bloody PAPs. There’s always a price to pay for any sex I have. It’s either infrequent. Not mutual. Not making a baby, etc. There’s always a problem with it and I just wish he’d stop hexing my sex life and sex parts and controlling them (and Tom) and leave us alone.

TUESDAY, MARCH 25, 1997
Andy told me all about his adventure.

First, though, it looks like Gizzy does like his 2nd floor. I was beginning to wonder if he’d ever go up to it, cuz he’s so stuck on his wheel when he’s not asleep, but he goes and rests at the top of the tube. I don’t think he explores much in the cage up there, but that’s OK. Now that my mug collection is pretty much over, my new collection will be collecting tubes for him and building a maze for him to enjoy.

Tom said he was surprised he didn’t try to escape when it’d be so easy for him to do that now. I knew he wouldn’t. Not as long as he has his wheel.

We screwed this morning, but neither of us got off. We still enjoyed it, though. It looks like he’s putting more effort into us having more sex, but I also know that it’s bound not to last.

Still, despite any of my bad days, I do have a wonderful life and a man most women would kill for and that I’d die without. I made sure Tom knows that just cuz I get upset over not having a baby, it doesn’t detract from any of the good things I do have. It doesn’t lessen my love for him. It doesn’t lessen my love for my animals. Or my hobbies and it doesn’t cause me to not thank my folks and God that I live in Arizona.

Yesterday, I was pissed at this shit with Dr. Rugg. It made me wonder if she might not know what she’s doing. She’s the only one who keeps getting bloody paps, which is what the call was all about. Tom brought up a good point, though. Maybe it’s cuz since we’ve been having sex and since he’s got a big dick, that it’s causing this, but why don’t I spot at the wrong times then? This blood, if that’s the case, has to go somewhere.

I also didn’t appreciate her bringing up a subject I wasn’t ready to discuss and didn’t know if I would be ready to discuss.

I agree with Tom that if we had been having a normal amount of sex, then it’d be time to bring it up and get the ball rolling as far as seeing what could be done to help us. But since we have less sex than most couples, it’d be better to wait till the sex is up to a regular amount, then discuss it with a doctor. Of course, I don’t see sex regularly and a kid happening on its own, but Tom was also right when he reminded me of other things I said I didn’t see that I did end up seeing. Well, I hope I eat my words again.

The nurse also said that Vanceril should not cause any weight gain.

Tom made me feel better about the whole thing and then he said something that really touched me. About how my feelings and actions about this whole thing are perfectly normal. For once, a normal thing about me, huh? In fact, he thinks I’m quite normal enough. How sweet of him. It still seems, though, that when I am normal, it’s in the wrong kind of way. I don’t want to have to have the “normal” feelings that go with not being able to have a child. I’d rather the child, instead.

So, we’re kind of compromising here. I made an appointment with a Susan Bock for a PAP on April 17th. I’ll be mid-cycle then. We’re not going to screw for about 4 days before that, in case the bleeding is from sex. But then that still leaves us time for fun in the right time frame. I’m kind of trying to have the relaxed attitude that he does and get off the counting, planning and worrying trip. He understands, though, that that’s just what women in my case do, though, and he even says that if he has to change some of his ways, without me changing mine, he’ll do so. That was very nice of him, but I sure as hell wish I could go about this whole thing with the attitude, actions and feelings of a man.

So, the lady I made the appointment with said that some people who have seen Rugg for years are much happier with this Susan Bock. Well, I hope I am, too. Rugg is a very nice lady, but I still don’t know if she really knows what she’s doing and I don’t want to be put on the spot again with her rehashing the temperature chart/baby thing. It’s still pointless now. If we have sex more often and he gets off more often, then that’d be a whole different thing. Or, if we’re unable for whatever reason, to up the fun and his getting off cuz then we’d have to think of a way around the situation.

Once again, though, if all I must ever do is not have a baby, it sure beats being without Tom and my old life back East.

Marla’s coming in next Tuesday with her sons for a few days and I hope to see her while she’s here. Laura will be staying elsewhere while they’re here. Then, at the end of April, Andy will need to be a house guest here for 3 days, while Laura has company visit her. I told him that I’m sure that’ll be no problem.

About his adventure. Well, God saved him from being electrocuted, he says. It was about 3 AM. He was super tired. Then he heard water running and was too tired to go investigate it. So he just crashed, and then 5 hours later there was a knock on his bedroom window. He figured it was Laura and that she’d just lost her keys. He still didn’t give a damn, was too tired, and went back to sleep. Then the knocking began again. So he got up, went to the door, and it was his neighbor Stephanie. There are two carports in between their two houses and when he went outside, he saw that the carports were flooded with water. It was coming from their storeroom. He and Laura just bought a washer and a dryer from one of Laura’s friends and it was the cause of this. So, he opened the door, got sprayed with a hose and in daylight, he could see that the light, as well as outlets, were drenched, so he could see not to touch anything. Then he opened the dryer door and since it was dark in there, he reached in to feel if there was water in there. There was, cuz he got zapped. Nothing serious, though. So, Stephanie showed him how to shut off the water. Then, after he got to thinking about it, he realized that God made sure he was tired. Too tired to check it out, so that he could be saved from being electrocuted. He said that if he had gone to check it out in the dark, his first impulse would’ve been to reach for the light and he’d be dead now.

That’s cool and I’ve had similar experiences myself, so I believe in this kind of thing. Yes, I believe there’s some good in God, but I still believe he’s mostly cruel and unfair. God must not be too enthusiastic about winning me over. They say he’s a jealous God who wants to have as many people as he can, like and respect him. Give me a child, God, then I’ll love and respect you.

I forgot to mention earlier, that believe it or not, I’ve been hanging at 106 pounds today. I’m sure that’s only cuz I slept around 12 hours. Something I rarely do. And also, I’ll be right back up to 108 soon enough. Maybe even higher.

Also, the Humane Society sent 4 beautiful animal cards as a gift for sending them $15 (2 cats and 2 dogs). But they obviously screwed up, cuz they sent the same 4 cards twice. That’s fine with me, though, and I’ll send one to my folks, Larry, Kim, Andy, Lisa, Becky, Sarah and Tammy & Bill.

MONDAY, MARCH 24, 1997
I still haven’t found out what Andy’s adventure was all about. He called earlier to have me look something up in the TV Guide for him, but then he was off to bed. He said he’ll tell me about it some other time and that all he could say was that there’s definitely a God and that he’s alive cuz of him. Well, I’m glad he’s happy with God, as was the only thing Tom would tell me about it.

Yesterday I was so fucking furious. I hit 109! What the fuck is going on? So, God’s gone and taken that too, huh? The right to lose weight? It fucking figures. What else is he gonna take? Is gonna take Tom, too? He’s taken enough! And the day before yesterday, I managed to hang at 106 all day. So, what was it? Just a tease from God? Did he want me to think I was about to lose weight? Well, what’s the point of exercising if all I’m gonna do is gain weight from it?

Anyway, in about 5 hours I’ll be calling Rugg’s office to see what the hell is going on, but I have a hell of a feeling that I’m not gonna find out why I’ve gained weight, let alone be able to do something about it. And Robin said not to bother losing weight and that I wouldn’t be losing weight for a while? I guess she was right on that one.

In the end, my body, my life, is all up to God. I’m sure I’ll have no choice, but to gain the weight and live with it. It’s not over. I know it’s not. I’m gonna keep right on gaining.

I just hope to hell it’s nothing to do with my thyroid, cuz if I’m right, you have to take medication for that for the rest of your life. I hope it’s just a simple infection that’s caused the extra weight gain and water and that antibiotics will clear that up and then God will let me lose weight. I know that’d be too good to be true, though. Am I ever gonna return to the days when I go for a PAP just once?

We went to screw yesterday morning and for the third goddamn time, this sexual fuck up couldn’t even get Tom in there. This is the third time in a row! Is something trying to tell me something? To quit sex? Well, yesterday couldn’t have been about something trying to stop us from making a baby, cuz yesterday was too late for that. You know, I really wish that something would just corrupt itself in me so that I could have a hysterectomy. Why the hell not? I know exactly why God hasn’t ordered me a hysterectomy and I guess that if he hasn’t by now, he never will. But why put the extra work on himself when there are 6 billion people to deal with and have to make sure each month that we miss it when he could do something to take away my parts? Just to tease me. It’s all just to tease me. Each month, in his eye, I’m wondering and hoping he’ll have a heart, change his mind and just let us have the kid only to laugh at me each month when I see that he hasn’t changed a bit.

Later…

Tom came home after being up for over 24 hours, but he promises we can spend time together tomorrow. And of course, I hope that goes well, without and dumb-ass arguments.

It’s a good thing I didn’t fall asleep sooner than I did yesterday. I was in bed, getting close to sleep when I heard the bass. The first thing I thought was how that would’ve definitely woken me up if I had been asleep. And that I was gonna go over there next door and put an end to it for good. It wasn’t them, though. It was that druggie that passes up and down a few times about once or twice a week.

The trailer people haven’t been around for 2-3 weeks, but it looks like I may have lucked out and that they do give a shit about others. Time will tell, but at first I thought they gave the guy that lives there their dog just to piss me off. People would do something like that, too.

In a half-hour, I’ll find out what the hell’s going on with me. I’m also gonna call Ma, as Tom asked. Oh yeah. She comes, too. Tom’s got the two of us to look out for and he said to wake him up if either of us needs anything.

I thought of and began and great and well-organized backup plan. As I said, I have my BMP files which will rarely change. I have my DOC files and then a disk for each day of the week so I can back up the day’s work. Well, there are some things I will back up here and there, besides the day’s work. So, I picked out my journal files and 8 things that I may change/update periodically, and here’s what I did. Well, I don’t need to back up all my files. Not stuff like my letter files and other stuff that’s not so important to me. But I stuck the following 8 things on one disk. Edits, grocery list, period chart, phone numbers, journal chart, CD/tapes, and cover info.

Then, I took each of my groups of journals and put them each on their own disk. That way, if the Oswego St. file gets corrupt, for example, I don’t have to try to figure out which disk it’s on. I’ve finished proofreading the Oswego St. journal group. Therefore, it’s backed up, won’t be changed, and is set for life. I’m almost done with the Woodside group and when it’s done, I’ll back that up permanently, too. So, as I get each journal group as I want it to be, I’ll back them up and then I’ll just keep backing up the daily stuff and any of those 8 things I periodically change.

SUNDAY, MARCH 23, 1997
Yesterday morning, Tom helped to show me a new way to back up my stuff in my directory onto floppy disks. I have 4 sets of disks and he gave me a box to put them in. One is my BMP files. Those are my pictures and drawings. I only have 1 set of those, cuz it’ll be very rare that we back these up, cuz it’s not like we’re constantly scanning in drawings of mine or that I’m constantly getting pictures of Gloria from the web. Then I have 2 sets of disks to back up my DOC files. I’ll rotate between these 2 sets and back these up every month. Lastly, I have 7 disks and have decided to do what a lot of businesses do. I have a disk for each day of the week and I’ll back up just the day’s work on a daily basis.

What prompted me to do this was cuz one of my current DOC files that I’ve been using corrupted on me. Tom tried to retrieve it, but couldn’t, but it turns out that I didn’t lose much and don’t have much to type. I had most of it in another file.

Tom felt hurt that I accused him of messing with it and I felt bad, too. I guess I should’ve trusted him and known it wasn’t his style to do something like that. He and I both call me paranoid, but I just heard someone on TV say that it’s really a case of heightened awareness. It’s just the timing. This happened right after a fight and to just 1 file. The one I use the most. I don’t know what to really believe. Anything’s possible, but I hope I can trust him and that he really never would do something like that to me.

I also built Gizzy a second floor yesterday after he got me squared away on the computer and left to go do work for Evelyn. I put a piece of Plexiglas over half of the top of his cage. Then I put Piggy’s wooden burrow on it that that damn rabbit chews the hell out of and placed the cage that Mary gave me on top of it. Then I took all his tubes and ran them from Mary’s cage down into the aquarium. There are gaps that would allow him to jump out if he really wanted to, but as long as he has his wheel, the one he can work, he shouldn’t escape. Now, though, he has more space to explore. I haven’t seen him running up and down too much, cuz he spends the bulk of his time on his wheel when he’s not asleep.

Anyway, I think it looks really neat with Gizzy’s cage set up the way it is and I think he’ll like it.

Later…

God, I hate being depressed! And that’s exactly what I am right now. I just wish I knew if it was cuz of my life or cuz of the Vanceril or both. Am I ever gonna be happy and basically stay that way? I mean, sometimes I am happy and just when I’ve decided that I can live without a full-time sex life or a kid, I want to cry out, put up my fists, and fight God for these things. I’m always wanting the impossible, though, and trying to fight only gets me in trouble, as well as nowhere.

I said some sex is better than no sex and I’m sure that most people would take part-time sex over no sex, but I just can’t. I’ve got to have a full-time sex life as well as a full-time marriage. I’m so horny all the time.

My schedule was as screwy as it is now when I knew Brenda and Kacey, yet we managed to have sex nearly every day. This tells me something. This tells me that maybe my husband doesn’t want a full-time sex life or a child as much as he says he does. I’m sure he has his reasons, but I’m just sick of this shit! I just can’t get used to it or accept it.

I never seriously wanted to cheat on him, but what if I do want to someday? I don’t want to ever feel like I want to do something wrong like that, just cuz my husband says he’s horny, too, all the time, says he wants to have more sex, and says we will have more sex. Besides, all I’d get is butches. My being married and having part-time sex doesn’t mean that there are suddenly more feminine gay women out there that’d want me, another fem and that it’d be OK with God. If it wasn’t OK with God and to be for me when I was single, then it sure as hell isn’t now, either.

I just wish I could go back to the days before my peak sexual years and not be so horny.

I know I’ve said this before, but I should just tell Tom that I want us to have no sex, since we can’t have full-time sex, I’ll be more independent, and not expect him to have to take care of me sexually. He did say, too, that he didn’t want to have to take care of me and I know his heart just isn’t in it as much as mine. Or else he’d find a way. Oh, his heart is in it, but only about once a week or two. Also, if we cut out all sex, I won’t have to hope for it, only to be bummed when he says no, cuz he’s tired. Maybe he wouldn’t be so tired if he stopped doing so much for others. I still feel that sometimes, what he can do for others comes before what he can do for us, and having sex.

Cutting out sex is what I need to do and what I should do. What I want is for him to come to me and tell me he’s got this bright new idea that he’s 1000% sure will result in more sex and a kid. Then see that he was right.

I’m only a silly dreamer. Over and over again.

I keep asking myself if God could have it in our cards to find a way to have more sex and a kid in time and if it hasn’t been time yet, but I can’t see why or how that could be. I wish I could, though.

I wish I could tell him all I feel and just write, but that’d only accomplish two things. The first thing it would accomplish would be a fight. And the other thing it’d accomplish would be nothing.

I just don’t know what to do. Should I cut out sex completely? Or keep the part-time sex? I know Tom won’t agree with me cutting out the sex. If I didn’t cut out the sex, Tom would be happy. Meanwhile, I still wouldn’t be, cuz I want it full-time. I don’t want to talk about full-time sex, think about it, write about it, I want to do it. But we can’t, so, how do we find a happy medium we both can agree on? Perhaps we can’t. Perhaps the only two choices are his way or no way. And again, he says full-time is his way, but we’ve very rarely had it full-time, so I call part-time his way, cuz I know he’d surely prefer that over no way. Anyway, I guess the only two choices are gonna be part-time or no-time and now I have to figure out which one would be best and try to stick to it. With any luck, I’ll live out my life going back and forth between wanting to take the part-time and then the no-time, all the while I dream of the full-time.

I don’t know if it’s best to do the agreement I mentioned and typed up or not. I don’t see how it could work. I’m afraid it’d just cause trouble. The other day Tom said he was ready to let a kid happen naturally. Yeah, that’s what we’ve both been saying for about 3 years now, even though he only began cumming 9 months ago. He also says that 9 months isn’t enough time to try. I see what he means, given the fact that he only cums about once or twice a month, but if he could cum 20 times a month, I hope he won’t be saying in the year 2000 that we still haven’t given it enough time.

What if this is another one of those double standards cases? Meaning, just cuz God will allow most women to conceive in a few months, maybe he expects us to fight tooth and nail for it and work our asses off. Like that’d be possible for us to do? And again, I would do that for the fun of it, anyway, but would he? Could he?

I just want freedom from always being horny and wanting sex. As well as freedom from wanting a kid. If I could just give up these things and not bother to try for a second or do anything to get these things, maybe I would feel better. Cuz then there’d be nothing to try for and hope for, only to fail and get bummed about it. I’m really sick of being a dreamer and a failure.

Maybe there’s a medication I could and should take that’d numb my feelings and desires and curb my sexual appetite. They have things to curb hunger, they should have things to curb horniness.

Well, I can’t make Tom have more sex and take care of my sexual needs, but I think that when and if the day comes that we both want more sex, not just say we do, we’ll find a way to do it. This is one of those things that if it’s a mutual thing and a desire, there’s a way.

It’s sweet of Tom to tell me he loves me for who I am and is very happy with the person I am, but I still feel like an incompetent, abnormal, incomplete, freaky fool. A confused, empty loser. And I shouldn’t feel any of these things. I should just enjoy what I do have.

For the millionth time, why does God want me the way I am? Why does he feel this is best and right for me? If he is truly testing me, how much longer is this gonna go on? How’s it gonna end? Why won’t he let me move on? And if he ever does let me move on, what’s he gonna let me move on to?

Maybe I should turn this into one of my games. We’re almost at month 10 of missing it, let’s see if we can make it an even year. Forget it, cuz that’d be no problem, therefore, not very challenging at all.

SATURDAY, MARCH 22, 1997
Yesterday ended with a good ending after all. We did end up screwing, believe it or not, but naturally, God made sure he didn’t cum, cuz yesterday was much more than likely the day I should’ve been most fertile. And it always goes without saying, that that’s if I’m OK.

Something weird happened after I took my temperature and saw that I was 98.7. I took it again and it read 97.8. I think maybe the thermometer’s a bit screwy, but nonetheless, I know that whatever day I’m to be ovulating, if I do, we won’t be having sex those days. If we do have sex those days, he won’t cum.

I still don’t know how serious Tom is about anything. I mean, he denies it, but I still feel that he’s trying to instill patience in me and that he sometimes punishes me. Maybe I’m just paranoid, but he keeps saying things and doesn’t put his actions where his mouth is. If we can have a full-time sex life, instead of a part-time sex life, if it’s so possible, then why haven’t we? Maybe because regardless of what Tom says, I don’t think it’s that worth it to him and whatever’s up there won’t allow it.

So like an idiot who knows how to quit but doesn’t know how to stay quit, I made a stupid and impossible agreement with Tom. For the rest of March and throughout April, we’ll just have sex whenever. Then, in May, we’ll pick out the 3 likeliest days I should conceive and we’ll screw those days. Guess what, though? This isn’t gonna work unless he cums. We’re gonna be real damn lucky if he can get off on just one of the days we pick and of course, God will make sure it’s the wrong one. I want him to have fun and get off during those wrong times, too, and be happy, but will God ever just give us a break, let us hit it right, have what we want, and leave us alone? No. Of course not.

Speaking of God not leaving me the fuck alone, that dreaded call finally came. I got up too late to call back, but the message was from Rugg’s office saying she had some lab results for me. Great! Just what I fucking need. I’m so sick of these female exams having to be a repetitious thing every time I go. Can’t it just be done and over with in one shot? Tom says it’s too late to be anything really bad. Meaning, they’d have called sooner if it were bad. He thinks it’s either an infection or maybe something’s wrong with my thyroid. Or maybe I’m anemic. Who gives a shit! I just want to be left alone. I’m tired of God controlling my body and I’m not going in there again. What? Was Andy right after all, when he said I had some kind of infection along a wall? Well, I’m sure God planned to have my schedule as it is, so I could wonder about this all weekend. I hope it’s something simple like me needing antibiotics if there’s anything wrong. Her tone of voice didn’t sound too pleased. Tom said it sounded like an “it’s it’s-Friday-I-want-to-get-the-hell-out-of-here” voice.

At only 1-something in the afternoon?

Anyway, I still haven’t talked to Andy to find out what his adventure was all about, but I’m sure I will talk to him soon enough.

On the brighter side of things, I just might be starting to lose weight after all, and just maybe, I do have some control leftover this body of mine. I’d rather be a fat mom, but since I’ll never be, I may as well try to look my best.

All I can do, though, is think of that dream, but Tom’s right. If they were gonna call me up cuz something was wrong where I needed a hysterectomy or something that’d prove me sterile, they’d have already done so.

If I have an infection downstairs, Tom said that that could be from a tiny amount of bacteria on his dick that got up in me. Rugg did say men are pigs, but anyway, if I’ve got an infection down there, I wonder if that’s got anything to do with how bloated I’ve been, although it’s improved a smidgen since I’m off the Aerobid and doing crunches. I don’t think I’ve felt any symptoms of any infections, but that could also explain the dizzy spells I’ve had. I haven’t had any of those for about a week now.

If only she could tell me I was pregnant and that the reason why the pregnancy test we did didn’t say so was cuz we took it too soon and the reason why I got a period is cuz that happens sometimes and it’s common for women to have early pregnancy bleeding. I’m such a silly little dreamer, aren’t I?

Why does God have to give me physical problems? Can’t he just give me the baby instead? Or if he has to get me physically, can’t he give me the kid first, then get me physically?

Anyway, back to the weight. For about a month or two now, I’ve been weighing a steady 108. And sometimes I wake up at 106, pop a vitamin, have some coffee, then weigh 108. That’s how slow my metabolism was. Well, today, for the first day in ages, I’ve been a steady 106 even after eating and I’m now a good 6 hours into my day.

When Tom gets up in a few hours, I’m sure God will allow him to cum then. It’s too late now. It’s right before the egg has popped out that you want to get injected. Yeah well, that egg popped out a good 24-48 hours ago.

I forgot to mention that Tom brought home a calculator from work. It has a pad and purple pen in its case too, as well as a clock, but the pen was dead. He also brought home one of those plastic things that cling to windows. Like the Chanukah decorations Ma had sent a couple of years ago, only this one’s a sunshade for cars.

FRIDAY, MARCH 21, 1997
Something up there wants us to miss it. Something up there wants us to miss it. Something up there wants us to miss it.

This is all I can think of right now. Of all the days that he stands a good chance of being awake enough to have sex and get off when there’s a damn good chance we could hit it right, I had to go and screw it all up. I hate myself! Why the fuck did I have to be so fucking stupid and say the wrong thing and cause a fight and fuck up our whole evening together? Most of our fight was my fault, but something up there still is making us miss it. Something always comes up when we get the rare occasion to probably hit it right. This thing will always control us. It’ll never help us to make a child or allow us to make a child. I’ll never be able to give my husband and myself our dream. Never! Tonight was the perfect chance. Best chance we’ve had in a long time and I just had to blow it. I couldn’t tell myself, “Hey, you know your husband has many conditions that he needs and requires for sex, so watch what you say.” Instead, I had to open my big mouth.

Once again, I know the main problem was me, even though he said a few things he shouldn’t have and handled it poorly, but something up there is definitely making sure we miss it, but why? Why?! Why couldn’t it have just sterilized me for sure?

Yesterday, when I knew we couldn’t have sex, I said to myself, I’ll bet God set it up this way cuz I’m ovulating. So, I got curious and took my temperature but it was only 98.4. I couldn’t believe it. So, knowing we were gonna screw today and that today had to be the day, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps God was gonna give us a break for once. But after tonight’s fight, I knew. I knew I had to be ovulating and that this fight, no matter whose fault, was destined to stop us from having sex. So, I checked and I’m now 98.7 and it’s too late to make a baby. I’ll bet you I’m gonna get my period on the 3rd. I can guarantee it and then that’ll prove my theory/fear correct.

Something there does not want us to make a baby. Why? Why? Why?! Why wasn’t I just obviously sterilized instead, if a kid is so not meant to be? Like by making sure something went wrong to cause me to need a hysterectomy or something like that. Something obvious enough. Why must it tease me like this? I say tease me and not tease us, cuz I still believe Tom can live either with or without a kid, and that he’ll be fine either way, but why is he doing this to me? Am I that bad of a person? Is it just not time yet? Is it a curse? Is it to protect me or us? What did I do? Why is it doing this?

I’m too pissed off to get into the details of what happened now and scared. I’m scared of this thing that controls our lives and our bodies and that won’t let us make our own choices in life.

Later…

OK, I’ll get on with what’s going on. I don’t have anything else better to do, anyway.

I just wish I knew why God was so gung-ho about controlling me. Is it a case of him looking out for me and not giving me something I can’t handle? Or is it a curse? Well, I did say I was sick of analyzing this whole thing and I’ll never know the truth, anyway. Just that we’ll never have a child. I’ve got to get on with life, not let God or the truth get the better of me!

I’m under his power and I must do and be what he says and there’s nothing I can do about it. The bright side to all this is that I don’t have to wonder if we hit it right, then get all bummed out when my rag comes to zap me back to reality and remind me that a kid ain’t meant to be.

Anyway, what happened is this - he felt I was too pushy about wanting to know about a conversation he had with Andy, that I interrupted his live basketball game on TV, and that I would not let him tell me the story the way he wanted to, and that I made him say something he didn’t want to say.

I know that the bulk of what happened was my fault, but it really burned me up to hear him tell me that I made him say something. If he didn’t want to say what he said, why’d he say it? He told me he was gonna tell me the general discussion that he and Andy had, but was gonna let Andy tell me the details. So why could he? Cuz I was anxious to hear about it? Cuz he said something he didn’t want to, then felt he couldn’t retell the story the way he wanted to tell it in the first place? I mean, this whole thing, regardless of who’s more to blame, is just totally stupid.

Why did we both (especially me) have to go and throw away the whole night, just cuz of a stupid communication problem? Why couldn’t we both just let it go and move on? Why does he have to have so many conditions when it comes to sex? Why does nearly everything have to spoil his desire for sex? I mean, I suppose he can’t help being the way he is, but it’s a bummer. It makes it hard and since he’s tired, busy, hurt, sick or just unable to get off most of the time, it’s gonna be just about as impossible as can be to beat this thing that’s making sure we have our fights and are tied up, sick, tired, or whatever when I’m ovulating. Yes, we had the fight ourselves, but it’s quite a coincidence that these things and other things come up at the wrong times, huh? There’s always something going on to make sure we miss it and I’m so fucking sick of it and of being controlled and told what to do way more so than most people in my life. All I need now is for something to control my body and life and tell me what I can or can’t do with it. How can we make it stop? How can we make it go away? How can we beat it? We can’t. It’s always gonna be there to make sure there’s no way for us to have sex, or sex with him cumming, when the time is right. Why does it have to tease me this way? Why doesn’t it just do my plumbing in? There’s no way this could be the case of it just not being the right time yet. After all this time? I don’t think so. If a child were meant to be, it’d definitely have been by now.

Think of all those women out there who don’t want to use birth control for whatever reason and they go about doing the rhythm method with so much worry and fear and then end up pregnant. They’d envy us. So many women would kill to be in our situation. A preset, guaranteed, no-fail, perfect rhythm method. That’s what we’ve got. A rhythm method that we don’t even have to try for or work at. Well, didn’t I say the things that come to us in life, come easy? They come for nothing. We don’t have to try for them or work for them.

The brighter side of the night was the fact that Tom scanned all my drawings into the computer. All the ones I’ve done over the last several months. It’s been close to a year since the last time we scanned my drawings in. I’m gonna print out copies for Tammy, but I’ll hold off on my parents’ copies since they might be out here. I may mail some to Larry, Sandy and Jen, too.

Then we also cleaned up some directories and got rid of some games we’re not into on the computer.

God has always known when my folks would be out here. Could he just be waiting till after they visit? No. No way. It’s not meant to be.

If it’s a curse and if for some reason he can’t do anything and can’t make us both be able to handle it, maybe it’s not just me he’s looking out for. Maybe he feels Tom couldn’t handle it physically, either, and that it’d do a number on his mental state, too. Not to mention what it’d do to our marriage. Our marriage is still way better than most people’s will ever be. I’m sure we both want to keep it that way and I’m sure God agrees.

Like I said, he said some pretty stupid things that were senseless, confusing, and unnecessary, but all I could do was think, why did I have to blow it?! And, something up there’s keeping us from making a baby!

We just really ought to cut out making time for each other, as well as sex. It causes too many problems.

THURSDAY, MARCH 20, 1997
At around 3 AM, the freeloader came in. At a reasonable volume, but why the fuck is he coming in at such weird hours? He’s back. I just know it. He’ll be here more and more and this really puts the stress back on me, but as soon as he blasts in real loud two or more times a day is as soon as it’ll stop, cuz I’ll be over there to permanently cure my stress.

Of course, it’s getting closer to April now, so the hot weather freeloaders will throw a few parties between then and October and there’ll be a pack of freeloaders over there with their fucking loudmouths for about 4-8 hours.

I don’t know if any of his absences were due to his doing jail time for drugs or whatever, but I know these kinds of couples. They break up, they get together again. And over and over again they rotate between being enemies and lovebirds.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 19, 1997
I haven’t heard the freeloaders since that last time. I swear these people are the most lazy-assed, crime-obsessed, sick assholes. They expect to be accepted in society, yet they carry on like rude, selfish, inconsiderate little fucks.

So I’m not perfect, but I think I’m making major progress in the area of giving up. I have no hope for my dream, I have no desire to try for it and do shit about it and am just so sick of the whole damn thing and the fight’s gone out of me. I’ve spent more than the bulk of my life fighting for things I’ve really wanted only to lose. I’ve spent more than the bulk of my life trying and working hard for things I’ve really wanted only to get nowhere. No fucking more! I don’t give a flying fuck when he fucks me and I promise this to myself right now - if there’s ever a few things that come along that I really want bad, I’m gonna set myself straight right away and remind myself I’ve fought enough. Don’t even try. I cannot have this.

I just want to quit, give up, not hope, not try, and just live my life as it is. I don’t know where the hell I ever got off doing something so stupid as to fight for a singing career, then a woman, then fight for something that’s supposed to be natural and God’s job? I don’t think so! There’s a reason why I wasn’t to have the things I’ve wanted most. The pattern is too clear. The more I wanted, the more it could never be, so there’s a reason for that and I’m not about to try to analyze it anymore. I’m beyond caring, these days, whether it’s a curse or not. People don’t usually throw their dreams away without a good reason and that’s exactly what I have - a good reason and no choice. I refuse to live a life of fighting for nothing and working for nothing. Not while I could be and should be enjoying what I do have. I’m not gonna be miserable, feel cheated or cursed, just cuz I can’t do or have anything I really want. I do have things I really want and that’s what matters. They weren’t things I thought of or expected, but I have them. They’re here and that’s obviously what was meant for me - the unthought of. The unexpected.

Call it a talent, call it whatever you want (our ability to always miss it), but we keep missing it for a reason. And if I’m really OK and if it is just a case of us missing it, then any couple that’s missed it for 9 months, is always going to miss it.

Meanwhile, I would like to find a home job. Something I can do at my own leisure. This may be an impossible fantasy, too, but it’s a hell of a lot more realistic than anything else I’ve ever set out to do and got into my crazy head that I would or could do. I don’t know about the woman, but there’s no way I could’ve handled any of the other things I’ve ever wanted if they had been handed to me for nothing and without even trying.

Anyway, my point is this, taking care of a baby is hard work, but making a baby isn’t supposed to be and should be hard work and you can call me a lazy-assed quitter. I want to work for something practical, realistic and that I can handle, but don’t know what it will be. If I have a destiny or any more of one, God will lead me to it, but I’m sure once again, it’s something I haven’t thought of or considered. The gifts and blessings that I do have, may take work to improve and maintain, but they came for nothing and without my putting effort into getting them in the first place, and that’s the way it should be. I know what’s meant to be and what’s not, and my years of fighting for shit I can’t have are completely and totally over. From now on, I’ll know better. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve learned to expect the unthought-of and the unconsidered. Like my song says, my life is about unplanned fate.

There are other little tidbits of stuff I could write about, but I want to go do some cleaning and cooking, so I’ll return later.

Later…

I said I didn’t care when he fucks me. Well, for the most part, this is true. However, there’s a part of me that would rather he didn’t touch me during prime time, cuz I just don’t want to be bothered with any bullshit or be set up for God to lead me on (possibly being a few days or even a week late for my rag). Well, it looks like I got my wish granted and that he’s given up as well, cuz from what I can see, the next time we’ll have time to do it, it’ll be too late (if he cums). If I were dumb enough to try and were OK, we wouldn’t stand a chance. Not with how he’s always so tired and busy and how my schedule isn’t always matching his. And not with how he could never cum during a certain few days in a row.

SUNDAY, MARCH 16, 1997
Well, the cock just came blasting in. Not too loud and not with much bass, but I still didn’t appreciate it, and I went outside and called out to him about 4 different times, but he wouldn’t answer me and he wouldn’t get out of his Jeep till I came back into the house, the rude, selfish little fuck. This goes to disprove Tom’s theory. If she had a problem with his music, she’d certainly have a problem with it at this hour. And why would he be coming to see the kid at this hour?

I have somewhat of a vibe saying he’s gonna be around more often and if I’m right, and if he goes back to his old shit, I’ll set him straight so damn fast that he won’t know what hit him.

SATURDAY, MARCH 15, 1997
Let’s see, I woke up at 108 pounds. Then I drank my coffee and took a dump. I was then 106 pounds. But then after having a Slim-Fast sake, I went right back up to 108 pounds. I have absolutely no metabolism anymore whatsoever. If a milkshake throws 2 pounds on you, you’ve got a problem.

Next time we need a new scale, though, I’m not gonna get a digital one. They fluctuate more than dial scales do.

Yesterday was a great day, but let me mention a few things first.

As I was proofreading, I said Gloria’s birthday was August 30th when it’s really September 1st. She got married on that date too, I believe, in 1979.

The last time Tom and I wrote predictions for what would be within a 3-month period, I got 3 wrong and 2 half right. He got 1 wrong and 2 half right. This time, I got none wrong.

Paula’s letter got returned to me, so that means the address is either wrong, or she’s not there. I really believe she’s in jail. Why else wouldn’t I have heard from her someway by now?

Also, Tom was right. According to what I read on the web, Norah did have a husband at one point, but she divorced him due to their fighting over her working. I still think there’s a touch of bisexuality in her, though, whether or not she’s acted on it.

I noticed that Tom also took care of the record club form, so that’s nice.

Our caller ID box came yesterday and it’s a nice one. A lot nicer than the one I had before I moved in here. It flashes to let you know if you’ve got calls, unlike my other one. Also unlike my other one, it should now display out-of-state numbers instead of just saying “out of state.” And it’s got a selector for unblocking private lines. We don’t choose to use this feature, as Andy’s pretty much the only one that calls us with a blocked line, but if we wanted to, we could set it up so that he’d have to dial a couple of digits first to unblock his private line so we could see his number.

The Vanceril has irritated my throat here and there, but I think that may get better. I’d like to try to stick it out and hope that this will work out, cuz it’ll save us money. I only need 2-4 hits twice a day of Vanceril, but with the Azmacort, I need 6 hits twice a day.

Later…

OK, the laundry’s done. Tom now has enough boxers for the whole week, cuz he got 3 new pairs yesterday. That’s all he got, but I got several things. It was so nice to go shopping. It was a fun break that we needed and were well overdue for.

I got a birthday card for Dad, but the envelope is too small for the card, so I’ll have to see what I can do about that.

I got nice floral stationery which I used to send my folks and Kim letters. I got a letter from Kim, so it was perfect timing.

I got 6 pairs of the sexiest panties. It was a deal where you buy 3 pairs for $7, then get 3 pairs free. Plus, they had this thing where you scratch off a card to see how much you got off and I got a 15% discount. They’re pure silk, so they should last a lot longer. I’m glad I got them, rather than those 2-3 buck kinds that are too plastic-like and that rip easily. These things are so soft, too, and I got 3 different leopard prints, a magenta pair, a purple/pink plaid design, and a white pair that’s of velour material.

I got 3 pairs of shorts. A denim pair with patches on it, a white cotton pair, and a purple rayon pair. I got a gorgeous sundress. The colors are a bit dull (shades of gray), but the dress is so hot that it overrides this. It’s the perfect fit and so comfy. It’s got spaghetti straps, but then there’s a ring right on the bottom of the breastbone where the material gathers. With the purchase of this new dress, I got a free hair tie. I went to check out something else so I wasn’t there to pick out which color I wanted from the 5 or 6 colors they had, but Tom knew to pick me out a pink one.

Just about everything I got was at a great price. We went about 25 minutes away to an outlet of stores that Ma recommended we go to. It was like an outdoor mall. There were about 20-30 stores in the form of a horseshoe and we walked down the line and went into nearly half the stores. This was out near Tolleson.

Then we came back to Phoenix and went through a drive-through to get some fries and something to drink.

Our last stop was at Petsmart, where I got 3 new doggie mugs. Actually, one’s a couple of red fox pups. The others are 3 Dalmatians and a Yorkshire terrier.

I also got 3 cute puzzles there of cats and dogs and a prickly pear cactus that stems from a round piece of wood and is about half a foot high. It was there in the pet store for putting in aquariums for animals like lizards to climb on. Those land crabs I used to have would’ve loved it (I’ve never seen land crabs out here). I got it, though, for decoration. I put it on top of the monitor.

Lastly, at the pet store, we got some nectar. Ma gave us a hummingbird feeder.

I got up around 1 PM today and Tom was already gone. He went to return Eileen’s computer to her and to do some work for Evelyn.
We had a mini storm did you hear the bangers
THURSDAY, MARCH 13, 1997
God only gave me partial rights to my lungs both yesterday and today when I got up. At least it wasn’t as bad as that attack I had about a week ago and I got it under control real fast. I’m supposed to start off with 4 hits twice a day or the Vanceril. Then go to 2 hits twice a day, but I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get by on just 2 hits twice a day.

We are waiting to get our caller ID box. Our main purpose in getting it is that this family of 3 needs to know when to take care of Ma. She couldn’t call for help the last time cuz she couldn’t talk. She was alone for many hours until Mary showed up and got her to the hospital. This way if we see her number on the box, but don’t hear anything or the message sounds funny, we’ll get over there ASAP. I guess the phone company already turned us on for caller ID, cuz Andy wanted to know why he couldn’t leave us a message without unblocking his unlisted number line. I guess the phone company set it up that way, but Tom said he’ll call the phone company tomorrow and then we’ll decide how to set it up. The only thing is, is that we’re asking for a lot of problems with the phone company for getting caller ID. US West is so screwed up that the more services you have, the more problems you have, and I don’t know if I can count on my procrastinating husband to call the phone company when there’s a problem, so I guess I’ll have to. Just like with letting the records company we’re in know not to send anything this month, on AOL. He said to leave the card by the computer and that he’ll throw it away when he’s done. Why hasn’t he done it? What’s taking him so long? Is he waiting for us to get a CD we don’t want or is this the patience thing again? He’s been on AOL several times in the last several days.

Of course there’s no use in telling him any of what I just said, cuz then I just get called a nag.

I was wrong this time around as far as him doing for others on time. He was supposed to make a quick change with Eileen’s computer, then have it back to her the next day. It’s been about a week now, though, but he’s bringing it back to her within the next couple of days.

Regardless of the fact that God’s gonna do whatever he’s gonna do, it’s out of our hands, not up to us, I still feel confused. I mean, yes, I do want a baby. I want a baby like yesterday. However, I still have my fears and doubts about that which I’ve written many times and I’d rather see my folks first.

Well, we do have a natural talent for missing them eggs of mine, be it God’s will or not. We’ve missed it for 9 months now, so I don’t see why we shouldn’t keep on missing it. If God knows something I don’t, and if he doesn’t really hate me and does me and does plan to bless us with a child, you gotta be talking at least 1-3 years from now. I also know that Tom’s not stupid. I think he knows how I feel about deliberately going out of our way to try to hit it right and do God’s work for him and that visiting my folks and being pregnant at the same time, would be too much to handle. So, I’m sure he’ll start to avoid sex at the likelier times to conceive. I found myself gazing at a calendar last night and it hit me - if he got off during 3 particular days, I could get pregnant. So, when I realized it’s so easy for the average woman to get pregnant and that it’s really not that hard to hit it right, I thought about making up excuses to avoid sex during those possible days, but that’d look too obvious and I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. If we’re ever going to hit it right, I don’t see how or why it’d be before my folks get here. Also, if God should decide it’s time and that it’s meant to be, he’ll make sure we hook up even at the least likely times if he has to. God can do anything. There’s a time to die and a time to be born. We all die, but we all don’t have the right to bear life and I believe I’m one of them, so I’ll leave it in his hands. That’s all we can do. That’s all anyone can do when it comes to something that’s a part of nature. He’ll do what’s right and what’s best, whether he truly hates me or not. And whether he’s cursed me or punished me or not. It doesn’t make sense for us to hit it right before they come out here if we’re ever gonna be allowed to do so, so that’s what I shall expect.

Today, I’ve started taking action to lose weight, but I still don’t know if that’ll be possible. God has allowed it in the past, but has he changed his rule as far as that goes? I don’t even lose weight in my sleep no more. You’re supposed to wake up a couple of pounds lighter, but I’ve been holding at 108, about as well as Gizzy hangs onto his wheel. The damn weight just won’t come off and my metabolism is shot. Tom says it’s too soon after stopping the Aerobid. I guess that by April 1st, I’ll know if the Vanceril’s doing the same thing as far as the weight problem goes, or if God’s telling me my thin days are over no matter what.

Later…

I made spag for Tom, of which I had a very small portion. I can’t have a Slim-Fast shake, cuz we’re out of milk. That’s OK. I’m pretty sure that if I really am gonna ever lose weight, it’ll have to be by starving for a few days and having just liquids. Well, for now, I’ll try to liquidate myself as best I can and see what happens.

We’re going to be heating up the pool and going swimming tomorrow. Then out to do some clothes shopping and maybe I’ll get some mugs and puzzles. I still won’t need any journals for a while.

I haven’t heard from Paula or from her friend, so maybe she is in jail.

Also, still no mail from Rugg saying all’s fine, so I don’t know what that means.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 12, 1997
I just let Bunny run around in the yard a bit. It’s gorgeous out and it is that time of year now to smell the orange blossom’s wonderful scent.

In the direct sun, though, it’s too hot.

Later…

My parents just called. It looks like Ma’s gonna be leaving FL June 1st, but when dad will be here, isn’t known yet. Dad had a map in front of him and he wanted to know what our crossroads were, so I told him.

Ma got on the phone and was demanding to be thrown a birthday party when she gets here. She’ll be 65. Then she said she’d be here only 3-4 days and I told her that would be enough. Then she heartily agreed and we laughed and joked about that.

Then ma said she’d bring some recipes, so she could teach me to cook a few things. I then reminded her that that would be a dream come true for her. About two years ago she told me she had a dream she came out here and taught me to cook something new each night she was here. She said, “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

Later…

Speaking of God deciding who has babies and when, and him not giving me any more than I can handle. I sure as hell hope that now that it looks like my parents are dead serious about coming out here this year, that he holds off till after that, if he’s gonna give us a child. I don’t want the double whammy. I couldn’t deal with my folks coming out and being pregnant at the same time and I still don’t know if they’d come out if they knew I was pregnant in the first place. It’d be their loss and I’m certainly not gonna put up with any bullshit from them, but I’d rather see them, then have the kid after, if God should decide to let me have one. I hate it when too many things happen at once and at their ages and with their health problems, this could very well be the last time I ever see them, so I wish to get that out of the way without other things being on my mind.

I’m really stepping up the action now to lose weight. I don’t see why God wouldn’t allow me to lose weight if I try hard enough. I know it’s up to him, but I’m sure he’ll see to it that it’s OK for me to go ahead and lose the weight. Not that I won’t tease them back, but I don’t want my folks teasing me over how fat I’ve gotten and how long my hair is. I’m sure, though, one of them is bound to ask me when I’m gonna cut that mop off. When we have a kid. And that’s a million-to-one chance. Right now, though, I’ve never been gladder that we are very talented in not hitting it right.

Anyway, another reason I want to lose weight, besides not wanting to look like shit and get ranked on for it, is so that I have a wider variety of clothes to wear. I’m sick of being too big for most of my clothes.

Dad asked me if I’d heard from Larry. No, I said, and then asked if he had. He said no. Then after we spoke, I called him and he says he’s been having some bad days. I feel so bad for him.

TUESDAY, MARCH 11, 1997
Tom did a good job getting the cooler going for the season and fixing the clogged drain in the tub.

He’s asleep now and I’m making pork chops and potatoes for us. He’ll have his when he gets up, of course.

We went to screw yesterday and I could tell from the get-go he really wasn’t into it and pinned it on me by saying I was the one that wasn’t into it. As soon as he noticed this, though, he used it as the perfect excuse to get out of the sex he wasn’t into. Only I could admit that I couldn’t get into it, but he couldn’t. It’s nothing that he did or anything that happened. My mind just kept drifting and I couldn’t stay focused on the task at hand. I really do suck in bed, though. It isn’t just all his age, or him being tired, sick or hurt. I’m just a bore in bed. Music and art may be my bag, but sex isn’t.

I’ve got 3 left out of the 10 books ma gave me to read. There was only one I didn’t like.

My period stopped yesterday, so now I have 26-28 days of freedom. I’m so proud of myself, though, for throwing out those papers and if Tom suggests we have fun at certain times, I’m gonna remind him, “I just want to have fun when we have fun. Let’s not try to control things we can’t control. If a child is meant to be, God will see to it that it happens and it doesn’t matter when we have sex or how often.”

I know now, that there’s nothing wrong with either of us. So all we can do is let God, fate and nature do whatever it’s going to do or not going to do, naturally.

Tom didn’t seem the least bit “defeated” yesterday. Somehow, I’m not surprised. I wonder now, did we ever really want a kid as much as we said we did?

Life is going to go on now for me. With freedom from worrying about God, fate, etc. I shall take whatever comes to me. Not try to make things come, not try to ward off things from coming. Obviously, I’ll use common sense, though. If I can ward off anything bad, of course I will. Who wouldn’t?

This has been the easiest cold Tom’s had since I’ve known him. He was pretty much back to normal yesterday and he says he thinks it’s just cuz he had been tired and hadn’t gotten enough sleep. And he expected to keep up with a kid? And I did? Like we wouldn’t be sick or even hospitalized? Like it wouldn’t affect our marriage? We both know how grouchy we are when we’re tired or not feeling well. Soon enough, I would experience feelings that most moms do: being a mom would quickly go from being exciting to a major chore and burden.

Later…

His mom. His mom. His mom! We are a family of 3. We do have someone to take care of. And Tom wonders why he gets so little sleep? Well, of course. Anytime you have to take care of someone else (I should know. When I had my ear done or got sick, I needed him to help me constantly), you lose sleep and don’t get into doing much of what you want to do. Or you do it much later than planned. I know this is selfish of me. I’m sure God’s gonna get me for it, too, and make sure that if I live to be old, no one will be there to help me when I need it. Maybe just a few abusive care workers. People who get paid to take care of people. Not people who want to take care of people. We will be tied down and we will be a family of 3 till she’s gone, but it’s too easy for me to say that. After her, someone or something else will get old or sick or hurt and need our help a lot. Or if not, maybe tons of people will need Tom to do tons of computer jobs.

Once again, I suppose I shouldn’t complain or be selfish. We all need other people’s help at times and we all grow old. Also, computer work makes Tom happy and extra money never hurts. Also, getting things done around here later is better than never. And lastly, like I said, fate is fate, so our time in bed is irrelevant. As well as when we’re in bed.

Having sex every day won’t make a baby result that isn’t meant to result. And screwing only once a month won’t avoid a baby that’s meant to be, either.

MONDAY, MARCH 10, 1997
Monday’s arrived with this being day two of Tom having yet another cold. Well, I’m sorry he’s got a cold, but I knew Tom wouldn’t have cum any more than usual, had we screwed every day since last Monday. I just hope the day will come real soon when he stops saying he’s gonna do things that at least I know he can’t do, whether he wants to or not.

Just as I feared, I did get punished for opening my mouth to Rugg. We both did. Yesterday I woke up with a very bad attack (didn’t have to go to the ER, though), and he got a cold. He punished him, too, for taking me to the doctor. God sees him as a conspirator, I guess.

Yesterday I finally reached my breaking point as far as this baby crap goes. I refuse to live this way any longer. I went through it with the singing. I went through it with the woman and I will no longer go through this with the kid. I refuse to take another year of this shit. Or even another month, week or day. I refuse to let my fate ruin and run my everyday thoughts and life. Nothing we could ever do or that a doctor could ever do could get me pregnant. It is not meant to be!!!!!!!

That’s when I threw out all the papers Rugg gave me and told Tom, “Look. When the time is right, if the time is right, I’ll get pregnant. That is with little or as much sex. With or without counting days and taking temps. A baby is up to God to decide to give us or to not give us, not up to us to decide to give us or to not give us.”

No one can do God’s work for him. Not us, not doctors, not anyone. If a child is so meant to be (for anyone) then no one needs to see to it that they have a certain amount of sex. Or count days. Or take their temps. If a child isn’t meant to be - the same rule applies. No amount of sex, counting or temperature charts can or will change that. I refuse to fight God any longer. I refuse to do his work for him. I can’t do his work for him or change his mind to this or that, whether or not a child was in our cards. If it’s meant to be, we could be on some kind of contraceptive and I’ll end up pregnant. If it’s not, we can screw till we wear out the meaning of the word, count like hell and take my temperature like hell, I still won’t get pregnant. This is God’s choice. Not ours. Meanwhile, I’m gonna sit back, relax, and let God decide whether or not to allow me to get pregnant. You see, the truth really hit me yesterday - if something, if anything, is meant to be, then there is no working for it or trying for it - it’ll just happen. And if something isn’t meant to be, all the trying and work in the world won’t make it happen. Besides, why should I spend my time working and trying for a kid, huh? Why should I?! That’s not my job. It’s God’s job to create life. I’m not gonna do his work for him and I couldn’t, anyway.

No, I’ll never stop wanting a kid, even though I know God’s made up his mind since the day I was born (probably even before) and said a child wasn’t in my cards. But if he should shockingly and suddenly change his mind, he’ll make sure we hit it right. We won’t need a doctor, a chart or a thermometer to do his work for him. He creates life. Not papers that say how to count. Not thermometers. Not doctors. Not us.

An example of what I’m talking about is Tom and I. We were meant to be. Therefore, we didn’t have to work or try to find each other. It just happened on its own, cuz we were fated to meet. Then we worked and took it from there to maintain the relationship. You don’t work for things. You work to keep things and nurture things once you get them.

Now, enough of this fucking, goddamn subject that’s ruled my life for how many years? I’m almost embarrassed and ashamed to count and like I said, I’m done with counting. It’s time to move on and live my life, whether that means changes of any kind or no changes. Just fuck this fucking baby shit and may it go to hell and not come back!!!!!!!

Yesterday, we let Bunny run around loose in the yard for the second time. Out there, he really got a chance to just be a rabbit and he dug a 5” hole in the back of the yard. He had a blast out there.

Later…

I was just hanging up a load of clothes when I saw that our hot-weather people were out. It’s amazing that I can’t hear them all through the house and that I didn’t know they were outside till I went outside. They’re talking loud, but not as loud as those black girls usually talk. Anyway, it’s cool cuz I can just faintly hear it in the music room, there is no screaming, bouncing balls or music. I hope that they had parties cuz of him and that that wasn’t her idea. Cuz then as long as he stays out of the picture, I won’t have to worry as much, and these people do come alive in hotter weather.

It appears to be her and her girlfriend. Or sister, or whoever she is. The one that said hi to me when I was putting out mail one day. I’ve seen her over there a few times.

The question is, why are they sitting in their carport? Why aren’t they either on their front porch or back patio? And why are they there on a Monday? I thought she worked days. Maybe she’s on vacation.

That was fast. I just checked to see if they were still out there gabbing, but didn’t hear a thing. There’s no vehicle out front and I couldn’t see if there had been one from the angle with which I gazed into the carport. Also, I’ve never known there to be chairs out there in the carport, so maybe she was seeing her friend off, who has a car, in the carport. At this time of year, people would want to park in carports. Yeah, I’d say that that’s what it was about. Her pal was parked in the carport. They came out of the house gabbing, as she was about to leave.

SATURDAY, MARCH 8, 1997
I woke up with a few bigger spots than I had yesterday, but now I’m back to nothing. That’s pretty weird. I thought I’d have a full flow for sure today.

You could say that today was a relaxing day for both of us. He mostly did computer work and that’s basically all I did, too.

I don’t know now if I’ll continue to do my writing only on the computer. When I’m not actually writing stuff in the books, there’s not much else to do and I have the perfect lifestyle for it. It’s not like I have a job or a kid.

We screwed earlier. I enjoyed it and got off, but he didn’t seem the least bit into it. I knew he was full of shit with this little idea of his and I really don’t think he wants to cum more often, as well as the fact that I doubt he’s able to at his age. Maybe if he lost some weight and were a bit more fit he could, but the question is, would he really want to?

We took Bunny outside and sat him down in the yard to be free to do whatever he wanted, but for the most part, he just sat there and picked at the grass. He had the most fun out there he ever did have, though.

My period is light, but now it’s officially a full flow (just had to make a bathroom run).

I’m just doing our stupid, waste-of-time agreement to please him, but after that, I’m throwing in the towel. If God’s not gonna do his work, I’m not gonna do it for him. Like I said, he either gives it to me for nothing like he does to more than most women, or that’s it. I’m not gonna be made to feel like I have to work for it and fight for it. And like I gotta prove myself worthy and deserving of it. A child isn’t supposed to be something you earn.

Got an address label catalog in the mail. I’ve ordered from them before. I still have plenty of labels left (3 different kinds: cats in boots, dogs in a car & palm trees), but I saw a couple of really nice sets I’m getting. A southwestern set and a Peanuts theme set. They’re cut-outs, too. Meaning, that the label is basically in the shapes of the designs.

Later…

I changed my mind and I’m going back to doing both written journals and computer version ones. What changed my mind? Well, mainly the fact that I type so damn fast, compared to writing, and if I weren’t writing, there wouldn’t be much else to do to fill my time. I don’t have a job or a kid, so I have the perfect lifestyle for it. Writing and singing are about the only things I can do consistently.

I’m still 108 pounds and am not bothering to try to lose weight now. Once again, that’s up to God, not me.

FRIDAY, MARCH 7, 1997
I have had a few light spots today, but I marked it down on my period chart, as Rugg told me to do.

Before I forget, according to Tom, rabbits shed their winter fur. I never had rabbits long enough to know this, but that’s what the sudden loss of fur was all about.

We also learned after I took the pregnancy test, that if you’re pregnant, it won’t say so till at least one day after a missed period.

I still have mixed emotions about our sex life, God, fate, the fertility program, and his mother. I love his mother dearly and if I were in her shoes, I’d want someone to help me when I needed it, but half our lives are about his mother. Half of our time is gonna be devoted to her till after she’s gone. Of course, after she’s gone, it’ll be something or someone else we’ll need to spend a lot of time tending to. Tom and Mary do most of the helping her out. Evie and David do a little, but would probably do more if they weren’t tied down with kids. Nora and Ray don’t do shit. That’s mainly cuz they’ve got their own problems, though.

I knew this I’m-gonna-cum-more-by-Monday thing was a bunch of bull, even if we had the time, but we’re just never gonna have time for us and to live for us and to do for us, are we? Everything’s what we can do for others. What we need to do for others. I just still wish there could be a happy medium, but I don’t want to tell Tom how I feel. I’m afraid that’d hurt his feelings and that I’d look selfish in his eyes. Besides, it’s obvious that something doesn’t want us to spend much time together. It’s obvious that something wants Tom to be tired most of the time. It’s obvious that if I’m truly OK, something doesn’t want us making a baby and as for the fertility people - I still have my fears and doubts about it. I don’t like the thought of having to “work” for and “earn” a child. If I’m not worthy or deserving of it now (OK or not), then what’s to say I ever will be? Nothing. Also, I still fear retaliation from upstairs for going and trying to mess with fate, which I couldn’t do anyway. I know a child isn’t in my cards. I’m not gonna bow down to God and fight for something I can’t have when this is something that’s supposed to happen naturally. Without fighting tooth and nail for it. Still, more than most women don’t fight or try and they get it by accident. Kids have kids all the time. I’m sick of being different. I’m sick of fighting. I’ve watched people get even the things in life that you’d think would have to be worked for and fought for, handed to them on a silver platter. I’m just so sick of fighting, being different, almost never being lucky, etc. Can’t something ever just come to me? Without my having to fight tooth and nail, work my ass off for it, and without my having to earn and deserve it? Why do I have to pray to God for a child only to be ignored, while some 15-year-old who didn’t ask for a kid, gets one? Life is really sick and unfair and I’m sick of kissing ass to these things. I really wish I could snap my fingers and not want a child. I’d really rather forget the kid and keep going as I am. It’d be so much easier and I don’t have a choice. Something up there hates me and is determined to see me forever childless. It’s not gonna change its mind, whether I’m OK or not.

Andy didn’t come over last night cuz he got company and it was getting towards the end of my day.

It was funny how Andy told me how he’d been looking for the perfect person to “decompose” his songs, and that the perfect person had been right under his nose all along. He said, “The bitch has perfect pitch!” Then he said, “No offense, but why didn’t I think of this earlier? And you said you’d help me, too.”

So, one of these nights while Tom’s at work, we’ll work on his songs.

Later…

Tom’s still not home. Jesus! He’s been up nearly 24 hours. Yup, he does want to be tired and busy and bullshit me. And yup, he is a bit hesitant about making the kid. I’m sure it’s also a part of his determination to instill patience in me, among God knows what else. I’m gonna tell him, “Look. Stop being a smooth and bold liar. Stop telling me you, or us, are gonna do things that you know aren’t possible.” Then after he claims to not be lying, I’ll remind him that he knows all he has to do is say he’s not lying and that I can’t prove otherwise, but I’m not stupid. I know what the fuck’s up with him and going through his mind and I’m so sick of it. If making a kid really isn’t his top priority or if there’s something about it that puts him on edge, why can’t he be man enough to tell me? Is he afraid I couldn’t deal with it? Is he afraid I’ll get pissed at him?

Today I put the Snoopy flag out.

Also, that brown piece of shit that drives by blaring music stopped today for about 3 minutes where this street forms a T with the street that runs alongside us. It looked like he may have been buying drugs from someone in the house where that band used to play. Cuz after the brown car took off, it looked like the Hispanic lady who lives there was getting into a red van behind it. It seemed like they may have known each other or talked to each other and like it could’ve been a drug buy. I would believe it if it was.

As a matter of fact, that brown car, which I think is a Pinto, just went down the street again. Yeah, I’d say it’s definitely some ass selling dope.

Later…

I told Tom of my decision to do the journals on the computer only. He likes the pretty covers of the different journals, though. Yeah, I know. Me too, but I did weigh the pros and cons of doing them just on the computer and the way I’ve been doing it and I’ve decided this is it. If I ever do find journals with cactuses and palm trees, I can still get them and do something else with them. Like he said, though, I’m the one who writes the journals, so it’s up to me to decide how and where to do them.

Yuck! Right now my fake ear canal is itching like hell. I threw some hydrocortisone cream in there.

OK, can’t think of anything else to say, so I’m off to go play solitaire and proofread.

THURSDAY, MARCH 6, 1997
I made a decision to go all-digital with my journaling. It’ll take some getting used to and if I don’t like it, I can always return to my old ways, but I’m no longer going to write journals. I decided that with the amount of writing I do, it’d be easiest to just do it all on the computer. I think I’ll start with doing groups of 3 months at a time. This is just a temporary idea, though. I’m gonna do groups like this: January, February, March. Then, April, May, June. Then, July, August, September. Then, October, November, December. This one’s to be March only since we already passed January and February. I’m certainly not going to waste the 4½ more journals that I do have, though, from Andy and my folks. I’ll use those for whatever. I haven’t decided yet, but I will use them. I know I also have to get back to my proofreading project. I will. I haven’t forgotten. I’ll change colors each month, too, like I used to change colors with each new journal I’d type. I’ll still keep my Mystery file. That way I can type up the day’s stuff, then cut and paste it into its group without having to recap and recorrect stuff that’s already been capped and corrected. Maybe I’ll cut and paste stuff into its group, say every 4 pages? Yeah, 4 pages in the Mystery file’s enough.

So far, no phone call from Cigna has come, so that’s good. If we can get past Tuesday without hearing from them, that’ll mean that they could read my PAP and that everything is fine.

Still no period or cramps, but I’m sure I’ll have it tomorrow.

I had mentioned to Tom the reasons why I didn’t want more than one kid (in case I ever did take those egg releasers), and he said that twins are so similar, that one doesn’t feel left out or less special than the other. And they don’t fight like kids who aren’t twins. I still just want one kid. That’s enough to take care of and enough to pay for.

Andy called earlier, wanting to know if he could stop by. That’s fine with me. He’ll be calling when he’s done doing errands, then he’ll come over.

Changing flags on this new pole is a piece of cake. I took down the one with the streamers and tacked it to the gate. I also tacked one with purple flowers onto the door in the back room to his little workroom. Lastly, I tacked up one with sunflowers onto the outside of the front door. I have 5 flags that I’ll fly regularly. The ballet slippers (which are out there now), the music one, Garfield, Snoopy and a parrot.

I may have no feelings down below telling me my rag is on the way, but my tits are so sore! I don’t think they’ve ever been this sore. At least my mental state is a whole lot better. That’s how I know I’ll rag tomorrow for sure. Usually (if you’re not on Aerobid), you tend to perk up emotionally the day before, then more so when you start bleeding. Even Tom notices how much better my moods have been since I quit the Aerobid.

I’d go send an email to Marla to let her know about the appointment, but then I won’t hear Andy’s call, so I’ll wait till later.

Summer’s really setting in. It’s a hot one out there in the low 80s.

I cleaned the house today and it was great weather for it, cuz I could have the vent on while I did it, without freezing this place out. When I got up at 9:00 (I slept a long time and needed it too), the thermostat read 70º, but after venting it out, it read 74º. So it was hotter outside than it was in here.

I did some laundry and now I’m gonna take it easy for the rest of the day. I just have the grocery list to do and a lot of writing to do. I gotta get a letter off to Kim.

Andy wrote:

I absolutely love the look of this journal. I found it at the Fashion Square Mall in Scottsdale, AZ as I was shopping for a birthday present for Jodi. Happy 31st birthday I wish you my best friend in the whole wide world. If being a femmy means being that than I’d rather clean floors for Xena and Calysto. Come to New Zealand where the burgers are charcoal broiled. Eat the fuzz cause the buzz is waiting to take a shower in Hartung’s empty cottage. I live in a paper bag torn now from World War II. Seventy years of bad luck followed. Where are you when I need you to follow me down to the silver lining with Grayson Hall who is now in parallel time with the Trilogy of Terror? Eventually he no longer was famous, he was simply infamous. I’m missing the bus so I’m walking to the mailbox. Eat liver it is so good with spinach and colored pencils.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 5, 1997
Well, today’s the day I see Rugg. God’s been kind enough to hold off my period, but will he be kind enough to see to it that I only have to see Rugg once? And that they’ll do something ASAP as far as the inhaler goes? Something that’ll let me lose this weight? I hope so! However, that seems too smooth. Too easy. Nothing in life ever goes that smoothly or easily.

Got a letter from Kim yesterday. Not much new with her.

Also yesterday, Tom surprised me and brought home a pregnancy test. I thought he either forgot about it or changed his mind. It upset me more than I thought it would. I told him it’s not his fault, he didn’t do anything wrong, but never again will I ever take a pregnancy test. I need to move on in life and this wasn’t helping. I can’t play fantasy games like this and expect to forget about the baby and get on with life, even if there’s nothing to get onto but what I already have. I don’t know why he was so interested in how these tests work when his wife is sterile, for God’s sake. He said he’s just a curious type of guy. Yeah, well, I think he’s playing games. Just like with this so-called game of more sex and more cumming.

Yesterday, he had been up for ages but said that just cuz we’re gonna have days like that, doesn’t mean we can’t have more sex. Anyway, as soon as I took hold of his dick; not a chance! I said to myself. It was so limp. He very rarely gets that limp. Of course he was too tired to cum. Even if we could find the time for more sex, he’ll almost always be too tired to cum. Or his heart races too much. Or he’s sweating too much. He always has a problem. So, even if we screwed daily, there’s no way he could cum sooner than a week and a half to two weeks. Then he reminded me of how I swore he never could cum in the first place. True. And I did tell him that I’d give him all the opportunities to prove himself.

I still wonder about this, though. I really feel and sense he’s just playing games, trying to hurt me and I’m asking myself, what did I do for this? Why is he such a bold liar? Why can’t he just admit he has his limits, just like we all do in different areas, and see that I’m sterile?

When I got up today, I noticed something very very weird in Piggy and Bunny’s cage. There’s this bluish fur that Bunny was nesting in. Where the hell did it come from? I’ll have to see if Tom knows anything about it. It can’t be Bunny’s fur. Bunny’s fur is jet black and there’s so much fur there that he’d have to be partially bald if that was the fur he lost.

After seeing Rugg, we’ll be going over to Ma’s to hear all about the baby, then he’s gonna drop me off and run some errands. Ma briefly asks about what’s going on with us, but it’s mainly all about what’s going on with the baby and their family. We’re just not as interesting, being the fact that we’re childless. I know, though, that it’s not that Ma doesn’t care about us, as little as we have to offer, to talk about, to interest or excite her with, and I suppose I’d be the same way if I were her. Actually, Tom does have things to offer her. His time, rides when she needs them, and his ability to fix stuff around the house.

I think he’s gonna be fixing a computer that Eileen’s gonna be selling. She’s gonna pay him, too. AMEX won’t be sending his check for $200 for that label printing program for two weeks.

Within a month (maybe), we’re gonna each take about $100 to do fun shopping with. Also, we’re gonna get him more boxers and us both new shorts. I got so fat that I have about 2 pairs of shorts that fit me, 3 skirts and 1 pair of long pants. I also need bigger bras and panties.

Later…

The doctor’s appointment went even better than I suspected it would. I thought I’d have to see Dr. Rauche or that she’d have to talk to him first, before switching my prescription, but she did it right then and there. She gave me an inhaler named Vanceril and said that if this caused problems too, they would switch me back to Azmacort.

I didn’t think she was gonna bring up a certain personal issue and I had no intention of mentioning it, due to being desperate to get off this Aerobid so I could lose weight and not be so moody. She did ask if I still wasn’t using contraceptives, then noticed I seemed a bit worried. I told her, though, that my husband and I thought it was too early to pursue the issue and that I trusted he’d get off more often, just like he came in the first place like he said he would. She agrees that he’ll cum more often, too, in time.

Tom may be right about the DES not being such an issue. She said anything’s possible, the DES does make sterility a bit more likely, but as long as I’m getting periods and have the parts, she too, thinks we may just not have hit it right. Also, you know how I’ve said they can’t “un-DES” me? Well, according to her, they can fix any damage the DES may have done. I was shocked to hear this. She also said that in order to start the fertility program, they require unprotected sex for 12 months, but that now’s a good time to take some steps to hopefully avoid having to go in July (that’ll be 12 months). That’s when she gave me a basal temperature chart, explaining that new research shows that it’s not the best time to have sex right when the egg pops out, but right before it pops out. You always ovulate 14 days before your period. That never changes. But since no one has a crystal ball to tell us when I’ll get my period, she recommends taking my best guess, narrowing it down to a few days, then having sex 14 days prior to that for a few days. In other words, if I’m due on the 20th, 21st, or 22nd, have sex on the 13th, 14th and 15th. That’s easier said than done, though. We could have sex on all the right days, but could he cum on all the right days?

Anyway, she also did a bacterial test which the fertility people would require, in case we do see them. I’m still a bit superstitious about seeing a fertility doctor and I still believe I’m not meant to be a mom. If I am OK and if the DES didn’t screw me up in any way, then there’s God. If he intends to make sure we never hit it right, no fertility specialist can do a thing about that.

Rugg also confirms that yes, spotting and even some kind of bleeding during pregnancy is common. You can even bleed when you’d normally get a period. It’s not a good sign, but it happens.

The testing is all covered, but I didn’t know that the stuff they can give you to make your eggs release is covered too. That’s nice to know, but then your chances of multiple births go up and I don’t want more than one child. To have one child is enough and with two, they always fight, get jealous of each other for so many reasons and one always feels less special, no matter how well the parents try to balance the time and attention they get. I know I always felt that I was number 3 out of my mom’s kids and I’d never want to make any kid feel like they weren’t number one just like the others unintentionally and certainly not intentionally. Not to mention the fact that one kid’s costly enough and I don’t know if I can survive just one pregnancy and delivery.

I think that in the end, we’ll just have to see if he cums more and if God will let us hit it. It’s hard at times, but I’ll try to take Tom’s word for it; that we’ll hit it. I don’t think the basal temp would be a good idea. I’m bad with numbers and also, Tom feels pressured when he’s got timetables on him and when he’s made to feel like sex is a job. We still want to have fun, too. Not put all our energies into making a baby. So, I doubt we’ll ever do this basal thing, but he says not to throw away the papers she gave me on it so we can keep our options open. It’s basically the rhythm method in reverse that we want to do.

I told her I was a bit superstitious and that I believed something up there didn’t want me to have a kid. Then she asked me if I ever thought that whatever’s up there does want me to have one, but that maybe it wants me to work through some issues first. Yes. Many times I’ve thought about it. But what issues? How will I know if I’m working hard enough on these issues? How will I know when I’m done working on these issues? I just wish that God could see me as fit enough for a child now, ready enough for a child now and just let us have it by accident. I mean, look at these drug addicts that have a hell of a lot more issues to work through than I’ve ever had that get pregnant without even trying. All by accident. Well, I did say many times that his standards for me and his expectations for me are much higher and different than most folks. I seem to have to be better than good and work like hell to get most things, while the rest of the world can fuck up and get most things handed to them on silver platters. Well, I hope he gives us a break. For once, I hope he does! In this day and age and after all the trying we’ve done and efforts we’ve made to improve ourselves and our lives, I don’t think a child is too much to ask for. I don’t think it’s a selfish thing to ask for or something that’s not very humbling of me, so to speak, to say it’s not fair that we have to fight tooth and nail for this and watch other murderers and the like succeed easily.

She also did do a PAP exam, even though I’m really close to my period.

Then she sent me to the lab to give urine and blood so they can test for any kind of bad bacteria that can prevent pregnancy and test my thyroid gland.

Later…

Tom finally got the flag up. I like it a lot where it’s at now. Instead of stemming off of the patio roof at an angle, it’s stemming straight out of the block wall. It’s in the corner by the farthest front corner of the pool. Why I like it there, is cuz you can get a better view of it there and it’s not in the way. I like the pole straight out, rather than angled. You can see the flag better this way.

I think I covered the basics of what Rugg and I discussed. Tom was right in saying the appointment would go well. Now, I just hope he’s right about us not needing to see any fertility people in July, but like Rugg said, there are no guarantees. It could be the DES, it could be my fallopian tubes are sucked shut, it could be me not ovulating, etc. It does look like, however, that she and Tom are right about the DES not being such a big deal, but yes, it still does up the risk of sterility somewhat.

She also told me something else shocking. That most infertile couples can be helped! Really? I thought it was the other way around.

Anyway, this is what Tom and I agreed on doing. I’m gonna get a period tomorrow or the next day (she said to mark it down, whether it’s a spot or not). Then, we’ll continue to have more sex (and hope to hell he squirts more). Then, after I get the period after this one coming real soon, then we’ll count and decide whether or not I should do the temp thing, too. Hopefully, this won’t cause such a hardship for him in any way. For now, though, I’m going to try my best to relax and hope for the best. It’s really great to have all this worry off of me and to be feeling better and happier.

I called Tammy and told her all about the visit to Rugg, too.

After seeing Rugg, we went to Ma’s. She didn’t go on and on about you know what, but she sure looked awful. Very weak. We’re worried about her, but tonight she’ll be staying at Mary’s.

OK, I think I’ve now covered all I had to say. If I remember any more, and I’m bound to, I’ll jot it in.

TUESDAY, MARCH 4, 1997
Another nice warm day out there.

The trailer left at about 10 AM as it usually does.

I can’t believe Tom’s still at work! He went in at midnight last night and he told me yesterday that he’d be working overtime today, but this long? He really is playing with my head and bullshitting me with this fucking “I’m gonna cum like hell and get you pregnant” game. We’d never have the time for this, even if this could be done.

The pre-cramps are getting stronger and since God’s cursed me enough to keep giving me periods in the first place and not a baby, I hope he’ll at least have the decency to let it hold off till after tomorrow’s appointment, but I don’t know if he’ll even do that.

Bunny’s really driving me nuts today. He digs and scratches along the floor of the cage. The neck part of the harness was too big, so I put an old ankle bracelet on him to use as a collar which I then clipped the leash onto. I took him out back 3 different times. Boy did he run! So far, this is working well, but if he really wanted to, he could back right out of the collar.

I’m about to finish book #3 out of the books that Ma gave me.

MONDAY, MARCH 3, 1997
I realized that I didn’t explain what I meant when I said we were teasing Mom over what I said she had said. Well, when she first went into the hospital and was still out of it, she kept saying, “Do you hear what I see?”

Tom finally finished and brought his label printing program to AMEX and just like I knew it’d be, it was a hit! In two weeks, we’ll be going to the store to do some fun shopping. We still owe each other holiday shopping. We never got to use any Chanukah, Christmas or birthday money, cuz we were still a bit behind back then.

We spoke to my mom yesterday. I didn’t know she wanted the motel info mailed to her. I thought she wanted us to call her and that she’d take the info over the phone and write it down. That’s OK, though. I had a letter ready to go out to them, anyway, and I enclosed the names of the two motels we saw and their addresses and numbers. Both the local ones and the 800 ones.

He came home from work, then went out to the store. Then he left again at 7:30. When he came back at 10:00 he asked, “How did they come in?” I knew right away he was talking about next door, even though there’s usually no one there at that time on a Monday. I didn’t hear a thing. I didn’t even hear a thing when he left. It’s been so wonderful. I don’t miss knowing when they were home and when they were leaving. It’s none of my business and I don’t ever want it to be my business. Not forcefully, anyway, but when I’m going out the door or peering out a window, that’s different. Tom’s theory is that they haven’t been getting along and he thinks that his blaring music always did bug her and that he just didn’t want to turn it down when she or I asked him to, cuz he felt he was being controlled and not asked a small favor politely. Now, he thinks he’s being good so he can see the kid. I never knew or thought that the music bothered her. If so, he’s not being good to see the kid. If he’s like most guys, and if Tom’s right, he’s being good for the sex. He just better stay quiet, whether it’s cuz of her, someone else setting him straight or cuz he took a medication whose side effects are being considerate of those around him.

I think that the reason he blasted in and out of here in the past was for the same reason others do that (among many other things they do to create noise) and that is that it’s for attention. That old ‘hear me’ obsession most folks seem to have. Besides not giving a shit about others.

I’m still 108, having slight pre-cramps, but my emotions aren’t nearly as bad as last month, thankfully. I am still a bit unhappy. I mean, in just a few days I’ll be reminded of how sterile I am and just who owns and operates this body. I don’t control it, I just live in it. I think, though, that God will allow me to lose the weight one of these days. He has in the past and I don’t see how or why he’d start changing what he lets me do with my body and what he doesn’t let me do with it.

Tom says he looks at the so-called bright side to my rags and that is, according to him, that they’re a reminder that I’m a whole woman whose plumbing works just fine. You can get periods and still be sterile, I reminded him. Also, even though I have all my parts, and even if there is nothing wrong with them, God can do whatever he wants. You know, as in making sure nothing hooks.

Later…

After next week, he’s still gonna do what he said he was gonna do and all that, but he said to just start with this week. He said that if he isn’t cumming more by next Monday, I can let him have it then. Oh, brother! I asked him how he knew things were gonna be so different all of a sudden. He said it’s nothing he can put a finger on, but it just is. Then I asked him why he didn’t cum a lot in the past if he knew he could now. He said cuz we’re in a different situation now, times have changed and we’ve progressed enough sexually. Still, he’s full of shit and he’s not fooling me. Why is he doing this? Do you know how many times in the past he’s said this or similar stuff and that I’d be pregnant? Now, he’s gonna suddenly squirt like hell and I’m gonna be pregnant? Please! Then he goes on and on about how things are more possible and likely than ever before and that we just have to hit it right. Yeah, he’s said stuff like this before. When is he gonna get the hint? When is he gonna see that not only can he not cum as much as he says he’s gonna, but that I’m sterile? We can’t hit it right, cuz there’s nothing to hit. The thing that kills me is that I can’t read his mind and see what’s going on in it. Does he really believe this? Is he really delusional? Or is just playing with me, while he’s smoothly and boldly BSing me and knowing it, too? Is he looking forward to me letting him have it next Monday? Is this what he wants? If he doesn’t really believe what he’s telling me - why would he want to hurt me? Why would he want to tell me that these impossible things will happen? Just to try to cheer me up and tell me what I want to hear? It’s ironic that he started telling me this when I got really into the PMS zone. And by next Monday, my period should be pretty much over. I just wish I knew the truth as to what’s really on his mind. But I know he’s not gonna cum more and I know I’m not gonna get pregnant, but what does he really truly think and believe? I guess I can never know if he really believes what he says or is deliberately BSing me, can I?

Believe it or not, yesterday I read one whole book, plus a third of another. I really love the books Ma gave me. They’re totally me and I like their larger print and the fact that they have 140-210 pages and not such tiny print with 400-500 pages.

Also, the trailer’s been here for a few days and I’m surprised it’s been here all day today and yesterday. It usually leaves in the early to mid-morning. The good of it is that I haven’t heard a peep out of that damn dog.

SUNDAY, MARCH 2, 1997
Yesterday was a fun day. It got hard at the end of it, but it quickly got better, thanks to Tom.

After we had fun, ate, and got dressed, we went over to Ma’s. First, though, we checked out a few nearby motels that looked suitable for my folks. We’re going to be calling them within the next few days.

Ma looked good. She still has trouble talking, but otherwise, she seems to be her usual self. No one was there when we first got there, so we just hung out while we were waiting for the motor of Ma’s car to cool down. Tom had to fix a leak in it.

We were there for about 4 hours and as usual, it was very noisy with kids, and dogs and I swear I heard bass banging by about 10 times while I was there.

Ma and David came in shortly after we arrived and of course, Ma had to go on and on all about Parker, Nickolena, David and Evie. That was her primary source of conversation, to whoever was at the house, to whoever was on the phone. This didn’t help my failing mood. Between the Aerobid and the PMS kicking in, I was fighting tooth and nail to hang onto stable emotions. It’s not her fault and others deserve to be happy and have kids, even if I can’t, but I was reminded of what I can’t have all day and it hurt. I managed to keep it together, though, but when I came home, that was a different story. I’ll get into it later.

First, though, besides hearing all about the baby, Tom helped her with her bank statements, then he and I went to the store to get something for the car and me some lunch.

Then David left to go see Evie and Parker at the hospital.

I picked out a picture of Jennifer she offered, then we talked about sign language. I showed her some signs and some letters.

On and off I played games on her computer and did some puzzles. Ma did some puzzles, too.

She had a big bag of paperback books that Bobby got from the bookstore he works at. I thought they’d be mostly romance books, as they usually are, but she had a lot of thrillers and supernatural suspense stories I liked, so I picked out about 10 books. I was psyched and I’m already nearly halfway through one of them. They’re smaller than the big, small print Koontz and Saul books I read.

Meanwhile, Tom had begun working on the car. He had to go to the store again for a car part when Mary and Dave showed up to take Ma to the cemetery to put flowers on Dad’s grave. We all chatted for a while, and teased Ma about how she kept saying, “Do you hear what I see?” Then they left shortly after Tom came back and finished the car before we came home.

After hearing about babies all damn day, hearing so many kids, coming home to a set of baby commercials on the tube that Tom had thrown on, it was making me sick. My heart was racing and Tom lovingly slowed it down and I poured out not only the usual things that set my emotions off, but something else I realized about God.

Before I get into it, though, Tom really made me feel better and made this so much easier to deal with and I felt better so much faster. It wasn’t as bad as that 3-4-day bad spell I had last month. Maybe it’s cuz we know now, that the Aerobid, along with the PMS, doesn’t help me and it enhances the things that are never-ending, major issues for me. He’s sure that Rugg and Rauche will do something about the Aerobid ASAP. They better, cuz at 106-108 pounds and the way I’ve been mentally, I need a new inhaler fast. I found one of my old Azmacort inhalers in the linen closet and have been taking that till I see Rugg.

Anyway, we all know that very familiar and very true saying: Life isn’t fair. Well, not only did I realize a long time ago that God doesn’t love us all equally and that some of us he loves, some of us he likes and some of us he hates, but that God has certain standards for different people. Like I said, some of us can get away with murder, even get rewarded for it, but some of us get punished for just sneezing. In God’s eyes, I know that homosexuality in general and murder aren’t wrong or bad. He loves murderers, otherwise there wouldn’t be any in this world and a lot of them wouldn’t get off scot-free. If God can do anything, you’d think he’d have anything he hated not exist (unless it was a person he hated, but not a type of person). I’m sure I’ll never know why God is the way he is and why he treats people differently, but I realized something new about him that pertains to me and my life. If only I saw the pattern and caught on years ago. Cuz then, I wouldn’t have stepped out of line and maybe things would be different today; even better. Well, like I said, gayness, in general, is OK by God, but not for me. I looked back and saw the pattern and it all made sense. Just like it took me years to understand why the NHA was stalled and to understand a series of events over a handful of years, it took me years to figure something out that I just did. Too many years. I’m sure there are plenty of things I’ve done that pissed God off and I know I was sterilized before I was born, but since God can do anything, maybe he could’ve made my plumbing work if I’d realized long ago that he didn’t want me to be with a woman. Whether it was for one night or a Miss Right, it was a no-no for me as far as God was concerned. God wasn’t just telling me he didn’t want me with women and that he wanted me with a guy, by having so many women reject me and by so many guys hitting on me. He was also trying to tell me that for me, being with a woman was a very serious sin and a no-no. In his eyes, he wanted me to do what most women do and most women go with guys. And now, despite the DES, cuz I abused my body in his eyes and didn’t use my body the way he wanted, he’ll never allow me to use my body the way I want (to have a baby). After thinking about it, I realized that with each woman I was with, things got steadily worse. After Diana, Kacey and Lisa, things got worse. After Brenda, the bad cycle of asthma attacks began. After Anne Marie, the NHA shit went down.

Then when I came here, I was in heaven. A heaven I thought would last despite my financial hardships and problems with neighbors. I didn’t know it was just a tease. He wanted me to have a taste of a happier life, only to take it away and make me want it back so damn bad.

Then there was that night with Julia. After that, I realized Scott fucked me over and had to deal with that and the Mile High getting deader and deader.

Tom, Andy and I are perfect examples of how God can love, like or hate certain people. He hates me for the most part. Not the worst kind of hate or else he’d have never blessed me with my musical and artistic abilities.

He likes Andy. It’s OK for him to be gay. He can get away with pranks (God never took away his sleep for waking up people for years on the phone in the middle of the night, like he did with me). He’ll get away with the grocery store scam, unlike I could ever do so. I’d have to pay dearly for it. But he’s had a hard life and is deliberately doomed to always be partnerless.

God loves Tom. Now here’s a guy who had a wonderful and normal childhood, with a normal family. He can have or do just about anything he wants and if he can’t, no hard feelings. He can deal with it, unlike me. God blessed him with being able to deal with things and with having the power and control over not only recognizing a problem he may have but with being able to solve it. With me, I can recognize a problem, but more than most of the time, I’m not able or allowed to solve it.

So, if God wanted us all to be the same, we’d all be the same and life would be fair. We’d all look the same, do the same things, there’d be equal justice and we’d all have the right to have kids.

Then Tom came up with a plan that had me feeling mixed emotions from happiness, eagerness, doubtfulness, and even a bit of anger and feeling like I was being played with, tricked and bullshitted just to make me feel better and tell me what I wanted to hear. His plan is absolutely and totally 100% impossible. You see, he’s now gonna squirt several days in a row (mostly around the right time frame), and I’m gonna get pregnant. On a scale of 1-10, he said it’s a 10 that he’ll squirt for at least 3 days when the time is right and it’s a 9 as far as me conceiving. Bull fucking shit! I hate it when my realistic, logical, practical, intelligent husband acts like he’s none of these things and kids himself and me with things that are as impossible as us making money appear with our minds. Who does he think he’s kidding? There’s a very fat line between reality and fantasy and what he’s talking about doing/happening is pure fantasy. Then I reminded him that he said he hates to put pressure on himself and expectations and that things like this take away the fun of sex and make him feel like sex is one big job. A total chore. Well, I not only don’t want him to bullshit me to try to make me feel better, but I don’t want him to put any pressure or hardships on himself and spoil any fun for him. He insisted, though, that he wants to do this and that it can be done. Right! We’ve been down this road a million times. He sets this bullshit thing in his mind that can’t happen and tells me he’s sure I’ll get pregnant from it. I’m sick of these kinds of bullshit stories and things we’re supposedly gonna do that we can’t. It’s like - why doesn’t he just tell me he’s gonna crawl along the ceiling, grow an extra set of arms and legs, snap his fingers and make the refrigerator float and that it’ll get me pregnant for sure?

SATURDAY, MARCH 1, 1997
We had sex earlier and to my surprise, he didn’t get off. He hadn’t been up long, was caught up on his sleep, hard from the get-go, but didn’t get off. He said he was too horny. That doesn’t make sense, I told him. That’s like saying you’re too thirsty for a drink. He said, though, that that’s how it works for him.

We’re going to visit his mom later. He’ll work on her car while I keep her company. Today would’ve been hers and Dad’s 50th anniversary if Dad were alive. In the hospital, Tom said she said dad was trying to take her with him to be together for their 50th.

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Last updated June 16, 2024