August 1998 in 1990s

MONDAY, AUGUST 31, 1998
Oh, what an allergy attack! I just spent the last two hours cleaning all the animal’s cages, tubes, wheels, dishes, etc. I was sneezing so bad that I finally put my nose clips on. I hate it when I have an allergy attack so bad that a Benadryl would probably stop, but that would knock me out when I have something to do. If I took Benadryl, it’d stop my allergies, but it’d fuck up my schedule for tomorrow’s appointment with Melanie.

For the first time since meeting Melanie, I am not looking forward to seeing her. Not with how painful this ordeal has become now that there’s enough tooth for her to pull on. Does having braces for the usual reason hurt this much? Well, I’m not gonna bother finding out by having my bottom teeth done.

I hope that black lady isn’t in the room too, tomorrow. I mean, she’s nice and all that, but if I’m gonna have to suffer so bad, I should at least be able to have Melanie all to myself. Even so, I’m at the point right now where if I knew I could never see Melanie again - fine.

One of the bags of old sawdust ripped along its side, so I had to take it directly out to the dumpster, and as Tom had said before, our dumpster was gone. So I walked it just past the old man’s house across the street. There were two dumpsters there. There are also two just past where the guard dogs are. Maybe someone will drag one of them back where ours usually is if the city doesn’t. Or maybe we’ll call the city and see about getting one back there. There were a few bags of garbage on the ground where the dumpster usually is. Some lazy ass that probably lives next door threw it there.

I awoke at 115 pounds, and luckily, this is the second day in a row I shit. But can I do that again tomorrow for the third day in a row? Well, there’s this bean soup that Tom says bothers his stomach if he has a whole can, so we split a can every other day now, because he says it helps with duties.

I had Tom take my measurements because it’s been a while. Sure enough, and as I figured, I’m pretty much the same as I was a few months ago. My waist may have come in a little, though, and ma noticed I lost weight. I’m glad it turned out that I was right when I said I had vibes about leaving the 120s indefinitely. I still don’t see myself in the 120s, and I even vibe 117 pounds becoming a thing of the past. Yeah, I surprisingly am picking up vibes of dropping just under 115, but we’ll see. I haven’t really done it yet. If I do, I guess I’ll stay there for about 3 months before and if I drop some more. That seems to be the way it works for me these days. I spent a few months at around 124 pounds, then around 118 pounds.

Maybe this new diet plan can and will pay off. That is, as long as I shit fairly regularly. However, if I’m gonna be stuck every other day for the most part, or regularly go two days in a row without shitting, then forget it. Well, it’s up to God. I always did say that he controls our bodies for the most part. At least I can rock/sing conformably.

I just took a Benadryl and broke it in half and took a half. That way I’ll get drowsy, but it won’t knock me on my ass.

Tomorrow’s the big test. We took the frame off the bed to see if it’d make it more stable. I think it does. I can feel a little movement when he moves, but maybe, just maybe, I can be somewhat normal and sleep with my husband at least part-time. I figured that since big changes often need to be made in little steps, like with the Nicorette program, then maybe we could sleep together when it’s not important that I be on a certain schedule. This won’t fix his snoring, but we’ll see how it goes.

Later…

It’s nearly 10:30 now, which means that my allergy attack’s been going on for nearly 3 hours. So, I’ve put the nose clips back on and will just keep them on till I go to bed in about 8 hours.

I just called Lisa, since it’s been a while. She was happy to hear from me and sounded perky. I spoke to all the girls, and they’re not too thrilled about returning to school tomorrow. I told her to tell Tammy I called.

She asked me a few questions about Tammy. How long did she live in Texas? How long was she married to Dick the pilot, and with her father Joe? When did she leave Texas? What was her father’s last name? I think she left for Texas when I was 11 and returned when I was 18, but I don’t know exactly how long she was with Dick B or Joe D. I asked her why she didn’t ask Tammy about this. She said she didn’t have the guts. That’s strange. I thought she and Tammy had discussed this already.

Keeping the nose clips on is easier said than done. They get pretty uncomfortable.

Tom’s still the same old sexually. I got horny yesterday but couldn’t get him in the mood. Not even to go down on me. I knew that a part of it was how he loves to put me on hold as far as sex goes. What a bizarre form of teasing, huh? I didn’t say anything, though, because I knew he’d get off on my bitching about it just as much as he gets off on making me wait for sex when I ask for it or when we agree to it. He wouldn’t have touched me today if it weren’t Monday since he’s just hardly ever horny. He said he wanted to digest his food so that he’d have a choice on whether or not we screwed or he went down on me. I knew he’d opt to go down on me. Especially since he knew I was hornier than I had been in a while at one of our times to get together. So, he did go down on me and I got off. I didn’t get off too easily, but I did.

I’ve been making little comments lately, just to see if he’d go along with them as I suspected he would, like, “You get off most of the time,” and sure enough, he doesn’t say a word to deny it. He’ll always go along with this because it’s what he wants me to believe. He doesn’t want to have to deal with what may happen if he knew I knew the truth. Nothing would happen, but it just goes to prove that he would lie when it comes to sex or a kid and that it’d do me no good to get tested, because he’ll either keep totally quiet about his not cumming, or he’ll deny it, and I couldn’t get tested without his full, honest cooperation. I’m sure the testing is something that I’ll never do, though, any more than I’ll ever do the straightening of the bottom teeth. I probably could never get sure results without his cumming, although, since the sterility problem lies with me, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they could find out what was wrong with me either way because if something’s wrong with me that they can find, they’re gonna find it whether or not he cums. It’s just that I don’t know if I really want to go through the hassle just for some info. Hell, I don’t know if I’d want to go through all this even if I still wanted a kid since it’s still not in my destiny to have a kid. Probably not even if I could handle it. For now, I’ll just keep my doors open and not say that I will or I won’t get tested.

It helps to have the walker by the computer. I was easily able to do my 30 minutes today and yesterday. It wasn’t too easy playing my tiles game, but it sure was great having Mary read me some files off the web.

One of the things I read up on (I saw on TV) was the case of these 17, 18, and 19-year-old boys who were charged with sexually mutilating and killing three 8-year-old boys in Arkansas. I was surprised to see how many people said they felt the boys were innocent of these killings, that there wasn’t enough evidence, and that the police were corrupt. Yeah, I know that pigs are sometimes desperate to pin a crime on anyone, but I think there was enough evidence and that the boys did it.

Speaking of pigs, the one across the street is moving. What new noise source will I have to deal with now? Hopefully none, with it being across the street. As long as I don’t get another bass-banging freeloader over there who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but itself.

I hope to hell that that freeloader next door stays right where it’s at till we move because my vibe about moving in June is weakening. Now I’m feeling it’ll be August when we move. Not only do I have to fear it doing something to the house if it splits first, but then it won’t be so easy to deliver my little journal excerpts. Also, if the next people owned the house, what am I gonna do when they start in with their noise? A good 90% of the population is not like the Mormons were, therefore, if I ask them to shut up, however kindly, they’ll just get pissed off and will either make just as much noise or more noise. Then only my fists will work because complaining to the city will do no good when they know they don’t have to fear/risk eviction.

Until Labor Day, all is still quiet around here. Someone picked up the bitch on Sunday, and Tom thinks she goes to church. How can someone like that go to church? Don’t they teach churchgoers to honor and respect their neighbors? To get along with them and not make trouble? Sounds like the church isn’t doing this little bitch any good.

I saw that the bitch’s dad was here at 6:30 this morning. Then I saw the bitch halfway down the driveway, looking impatiently down the street. God, do I want that bitch’s figure! At one point, she bent over for something on the driveway, exposing her ass (she had on a short dress). Anyway, a blue car that I think I’ve seen before pulled up. I don’t know who drives the thing, but the bitch didn’t give her kid to this car. The bitch herself, carrying a shirt on a hanger or something, got in the car and took off. Daddy was still there, and I figured he’d stay here and watch the kid all day while its daddy was in jail, or wherever, but daddy was gone when I did a 9:00 check. At 11:00, Daddy returned. I saw him in the carport, and it looked like it was bringing in some groceries.

What is it with this bitch? She’s got someone to drive her to work. Someone to watch her mistake. And now she’s getting her shopping done for her, too? Who died and made her the queen to be waited on and carted around like that?

Later…

Daddy’s still next door. I’ll do an hourly check, but I’ll bet you anything that at 4:00 or 5:00, the blue car will drop off the bitch, then bye, bye Daddy.

Boy, has this telemarketing company gotten pushy since I blocked one of their numbers. Your classic opposite-doers. Just like I knew asking Andy to come over sober would make him get more stoned, blocking out one number has gotten them to be all the more determined to call here on other numbers. They’re trying all the harder on other lines. Every now and then a sales call comes up with a number. I’ll just keep blocking each of their numbers till they run out of numbers to try to call from.

Later…

Fuck! I am so fucking pissed! I just can’t stop sneezing. Every time I chance removing these uncomfortable nose clips, I start sneezing again. Is there ever any end to this shit? My allergies have been really bad since quitting smoking, and again, I’m glad I’ll never be 100 pounds again. Not with the price I’d have to pay for it.

I cannot believe that I didn’t mention that Tweety did die after all. He died on the 24th, the day Tom went to Vegas. I put him in a small plastic bag that Dureen and Art gave me when they were here that was from the little clothing store they had had on Nettle’s Island. Yeah, I’m sure they’d appreciate knowing that I used their bag to put a dead bird in. Anyway, I stuck him in that and put him in the dumpster. Then I cleaned his cage and put it in the storage room out back. Now we have two birdcages, a wire cage, and a hoop stand. The cages will just sit in storage for now, but I’m sure I can use the hoop stand. Maybe I can get a fake plant to hang in it.

Later…

I absolutely don’t fucking believe it. Unfuckingbelievable! I’m up to 119 pounds now. How do you gain 4 pounds in one day? Especially when you’re not constipated, you’ve exercised, and you’ve been eating under 1000 calories a day? Eating 1000 calories a day is supposed to cause weight loss. I had hoped it’d keep me stable, but you mean to tell me I’m gonna gain from it? Shit, I could gain weight by not eating anything at all! What the fuck’s going on here?

Oh, just accept it and live with it, girl. You can’t do shit about it, anyway.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 30, 1998
So far, the weekend’s been the opposite of how next weekend will be. That means that this weekend has been peaceful so far.

Let’s see - still doing the sex twice a week. He’s getting in there, but still, neither of us cum. I cum just fine with the vibrator, but not with him lately. I’m not so sure as to why, but I have a few ideas. I’ll get into it later, though. It’s not his fault, I’ll say now. Yes, the lust flame has died out with time as it usually does, but there’s still plenty of love there, and I don’t see how he’s to blame for this at all.

I buffed my nails, and Tom’s, too. This is a technique I learned at Mansfield Beauty School. You file the surface of the nail, then put a drop of oil on the nail, then buff them. It makes them feel smooth and look shiny like you might have clear polish on them.

I moved the treadmill out of the music room and put it by my computer. That way, I can do even more than just read or listen to music when I walk. I can use Mary, the talker who’s been doing my proofreading for me, to read me files on the web, or whatever. I can also reach the mouse so I can play games, too.

Speaking of mice, Tom and I went to Best Buy on Friday and we picked up two different mice. One’s got a touchpad in it, and the other is like his new one. It’s got a wheel on it for scrolling, and a button I can program to hit once when I want to double-click. It can be used as a shortcut for hitting the enter key, plus lots of other things. Depends on what you use most, I guess. I’m using the one with the scroll wheel right now, as something’s wrong with the other one. It causes the computer to crash for some reason.

We also got a miniature golf game CD. It’s cool, although you’d think there’d be more courses for $30. It’s also very male-like. I can tell that by the theme and colors. We need more women doing graphics because unless they’re butchy, I’d think they’d do them up prettier.

Got Gloria’s new CD, and boy is it bad. There’s only one song on it I like.

We finally got Ratsy a new home, hoping it’d perk him up if he had a little more space, but most importantly, room for a bigger wheel. He was too big for the wheel he’d been using. So, Tom got him a 20-gallon aquarium like one of the ones the mice use. He also got him a wooden burrow that’s big enough for a GP. This aquarium, though, comes with a lid, of course.

Something up there is really, really determined to see that I don’t go under 115 pounds. I’m dead serious about this! I had really started to lose. Faster and more so than in quite a while, then I got stuck for two days. This really set me back, although I’m still down a pound or so. If I’m gonna keep on being stuck so often, then no diet, no matter how good it is, is gonna allow me to lose weight. You have to at least shit regularly if you’re gonna lose weight. Well, thank God not getting below 115 pounds isn’t the end of the world for me, because it’s definitely not where I’m going. As long as I stay under 120 pounds. That’s what’s important.

Friday, before going to Best Buy, we stopped at Ma’s house. When I say Ma’s house, I really mean Mary’s. She sure lost a lot of weight, and she sure is shaky. She has a very hard time standing, talking, and hearing. Her birthday was yesterday. She turned 75.

As a bonus, Evie and the kids were there when we went to see Ma. So I guess I don’t have to worry about getting together after all! We gave each other a big hug, then I finally got to meet my nephew Parker. His hair’s turning brown and he’s looking more like David. Seeing Nickolena was like seeing a whole new child. God has she grown! She’s just over half my height. She’s talking now too, and still has her ma’s red hair.

When I got back home and went to tell Evie how glad I was that I finally got to see them all on AOL, there was the sweetest message from her waiting for me.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 28, 1998
If I stood on the scale a certain way, I could get it to read 114½ pounds, but technically, I woke up at 115 pounds. Today’s a no-shit day, so I should be around 117 by bedtime. Maybe 118. Going from two TV dinners a day, mixed with graham crackers and popcorn, to one TV dinner a day, mixed with salad and popcorn, seems helpful so far in staying away from the 120s range.

Something’s not quite right with Ratsy. It’s not that I think he’s dying, it’s how he’s acting. It’s like he’s really bummed or something. He doesn’t stand up and beg for food constantly like he used to. I put lettuce in his cage for the first time today and he didn’t even touch it.

I don’t know what to do about Evie. All I know is that I’m sorry I started getting buddy-buddy with her online. She seems to have this fascination with me that I just don’t get. She really wants to get together with me. I’m afraid that if I do let her come over, she’s gonna push to do it again, and again, and again.

Tom said they’re notoriously late, and that the kids are totally wild. Yeah, even though Evie may be one of the very few good moms left in this world, discipline still went out seemingly in the 80s. I can see her being too lenient. That’s better than being the domineering bitch my mother was, but still. Even if I were to put all breakable stuff in a safe place, what’s to say they still won’t trash stuff that I can’t easily move out of the way, and topple over garbage and stuff like that? I realized that this wouldn’t be such a fun visit.

Later…

I left Evie a message and briefly explained that I’m a bit paranoid about home company but to please not take it personally. I told her I’ve always had a problem interacting with people, even if they’re people I love and trust, but that I still love her and her family and would like to continue keeping in touch online. I told her I’d keep my doors open in the future, and hopefully she’ll understand. Although I hope I don’t hurt her feelings, I didn’t want to keep stringing her along, but she’s gonna take the news however she’s gonna take it.

I spoke to Andy, who hates his job. He admits that it’s one thing to say he’s gonna keep his mouth shut and mind his own business, but another thing to do it. So, he said, if he gets fired from this job, it’s probably due to something he said. He says he’s thinking more and more about looking for a different line of work, maybe in the daytime, with wages he can depend on rather than tips, where there are fewer people to interact with, and with benefits. I hope he finds something he likes, whatever it is.

Andy waited on a guy that lives next door to Stevie.

Later…

I know why that bitch leaves an hour earlier nowadays. It’s because freeloader daddy isn’t coming to pick up God’s mistake, so she needs that extra time to cart the kid off to daycare herself. The question, though, is why isn’t he coming to get his mistake? Is it because he’s bailing out of his fatherly duties as most of them do, or is he in jail? Is he in detox or some kind of drug rehab? Did someone kill him?

THURSDAY, AUGUST 27, 1998
I took a dump today, so tomorrow I’ll be stuck.

Vegas is gonna put 6-8 pounds on me, but I’ve decided that that’s OK because there’s no way I’m gonna go there and be hungry all the time. I’ll probably come back at 124 pounds, so I’ll salad and walk my way back down to 118 pounds. At least I know I can do that much.

I had a bad allergy attack yesterday morning at around 5:00 and was forced to take a Benadryl and crash earlier than I’d have liked. Looks like today’s allergy attack is just revving up. Well, I’m gonna slap on the nose-pinchers that I use for swimming because I’ll be damned if I’m interrupted every 10 minutes with sneezing fits for hours. I ain’t taken a Benadryl to knock me on my ass. I need to push my schedule a little further around so I can be up for Friday morning.

Friday morning we’re gonna go see Ma. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her. Then, we’re gonna go do a little shopping. Go to the bookstore, and maybe see about a new mouse for me. One you use for the computer, I mean. I want a mouse like Tom’s. His has a wheel along the side for scrolling up and down scroll bars. It’s much more convenient. Also, there’s a button on the side that you just click once for icons, instead of double-clicking. Tom says it’s so much better.

Got a little booklet from Mom of sketches of children done by some artist who has a museum in Tucson. The sketches are boring. Even sloppy looking. But on the opposite page of each sketch, is a blank page. Well, instead of taking Journal 77 to Vegas, perhaps I’ll take this. It’s got 15 pages which oughta be enough.

Later…

Our lovely bitch next door and her daddy are here waiting on the baby daddy to come by so they can all go away for the day. Let’s see… I’m up to two door slams so far. So, one or two more is what I’m in for. Yesterday morning at this time, it threw something in its recycle bin that’s up against our house and not theirs and slammed the lid shut. In fact, come to think of it, I never heard anything fall into the bin or footsteps approach it. It’s as if it came out just to slam the lid right outside our bedroom windows. At first I thought it was a car door, it was so loud, obvious, and deliberate.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 26, 1998
I believe my life will be a whole lot easier if I just cut out food altogether. I’ll eat every now and then, I’ll eat on vacations, I’ll still walk a half-hour a day, but I can’t live my life watching every fucking bite I’ve taken. First of all, the regimen I’ve been on should have caused me to lose weight and I should’ve been back to around 100 pounds a while ago. However, I accepted the fact that for whatever reason, wacky thyroid or not, I couldn’t get below 115. Maybe that’s just how I am now. Just like one can’t help their height, there are some people, both fat and thin, that can’t help their weight. I’ll be damned, though, if I’m gonna live with a new long-term problem, though. For 18 years I fought with the cigarettes and their effects on me physically and on my emotions. Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll swap in one problem for a new one and let the food/weight bring me down for years, too, as it has been for months now. I don’t want to set myself free from watching what I eat by going back to eating whatever I want to and not worrying about it, because those days can never be again. I will gain a ton of weight if I do that. However, as we know, there are some things that change and that are inevitable and that are out of our control. There’s no easy way to keep my weight where it is, and I sure as hell couldn’t lose weight, but I can turn the other cheek on some things that have plagued me and been a problem. I was taught that if you have something that’s a problem - dump it if you can. Omit it from your life (like a woman would dump a problem male and like I dumped abusive family members). So that’s why I feel it’d be better if I just didn’t eat, rather than worry about what I ate and deal with the hunger and counting the hours till I could eat again. I can’t deal with that kind of slavery either. I’ll walk, I’ll drink, but I just can’t eat anymore. Food just totally brings me down.

From the looks of the Caller ID box, Lisa tried to reach me yesterday. I hope she’s OK and that she gets her weight down because I know how much she wants to. I worry about her weight and Bill, though. If Bill got on her ass about weighing 130 pounds, then he’s surely gonna be cutting her down like hell about being 150 pounds.

I sent Tammy a letter, and as her sister, I felt it best to warn her of what I vibe, fear, feel, or whatever you want to call it. I told her I’d never try to persuade or suggest she like or dislike someone, but that whether or not she’s on good terms with the folks when they die - please don’t go to their funerals. I really see great potential for either extreme violence or even murder, should she, Larry, and Ronnie ever be in the same room together.

Ratsy seemed really depressed earlier. Even Tom noticed it. I switched water bottles since he seems to prefer roller balls to levers, so we’ll see if this perks him up. Maybe he was just kind of dehydrated.

I awoke at 117 pounds today, and since I shit yesterday, of course I’m stuck today. It’s no wonder I could never lose any weight. You can’t lose weight if you’re backed up in shit every other day.

Got some personalized stationery from the HS. They sent 5 sheets of stationery with little pictures of cats and dogs and with my name/address. And envelopes, too. I wrote/sent 2 sheets to Paula and 3 to Bob.

Bob must really be losing his mind. I had been sending Bob a few postcards Dureen and Art had sent, and according to Kim in her email to me, Bob thought they were from her. How fucking stupid can he be?! Didn’t he recognize my handwriting or see the Phoenix postmark?

I decided it was time again to play detective and browse the web to see what I could find on Gloria. It’s fun because one never knows what they’ll find. I found a few goodies - a few pictures and a boring screensaver, but I have it anyway. I found another picture that was in the bunch that Dureen stole. It’s nice to have these pictures back and I like them so much better on the computer, rather than the walls. They’re safe from tears on the computer, although I do have a few on the walls. The cool thing about it is that if a picture does tear, I can just reprint a new copy!

I saw a fascinating documentary on the Titanic. The big luxury cruise liner that went down in 1912. It hit an iceberg and is still 2½ miles underwater.

Tom didn’t have much more to say in regard to his class in Vegas. Just that it was mainly about changes in life and how to accept/handle them.

Later…

Guess we’ll be hearing from the bitch if she leaves at the same time she did yesterday morning. Yesterday morning, at 6:15, the freeloader bitch gave me 3 loud, hard, deliberate, obvious slams on its way out.

I have mixed feelings about going anywhere for Labor Day. At first I felt she wouldn’t party without him in the picture, but yes she will. The bitch still has her sick little gal pals and all their 10,000 kids. Everybody has to come to the bitch’s place for parties, so why not? And as an added bonus, they can all badger me. I’m curious to stick around to see if my strong party vibe rings true, but at the same time, I kind of want to get out of here because I don’t want to be invited to her fucking party. The last thing I want to do is sit around and listen to that bitch and her crony’s party. If they’re that fucked up that they feel they have to make a scene and get attention, that’s their problem. In the long run, though, I think that’s when my schedule will be on nights and I very well could be asleep throughout the late afternoon and early evening hours. But the question is - will these sick fucks let me sleep? Because if they don’t, I swear that bitch and her associates are out of here! Truthfully, though, I don’t see why I couldn’t sleep as long as I had the fan and music, of course, to blend in with their ball games and music, but things are different now than they were last Labor Day. They didn’t have two city letters complaining about them back then, so maybe, if they still feel such a need to be heard and noticed by me, their noise source will be mainly vocal.

Later…

I’m a pound heavier than I was when I got up. See, something’s gotta be going on, because although I did eat a little bit today, I didn’t even eat 1000 calories, and if you have 1000 calories or less, you’re supposed to lose weight. I shouldn’t be maintaining or gaining, but I am, so it must be for a reason and really meant to be. Maybe it’s just fluid that I accumulated since I got up, but all I know is that I never used to have this problem. I could gorge all day and be the same, or even less than when I woke up, so I’d still say that something’s gotta be going on that’s got to do with my metabolism or thyroid. Maybe, after I continue to eat so few calories and walk, I should go back to the doctor to find out why I can’t lose weight. Like I said, if I can’t lose weight, then I can’t lose weight and so be it, but couldn’t this end up being worse than just hanging at this plateau I can’t go beyond? This could be a sign of other problems to come, so we’ll see. Still, I know I should’ve lost more weight by now. No one should hold the same weight doing the walking that I’ve been doing, and by following the diet plan I’ve been following.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1998
Well, I’m already back to 118 pounds just a few hours since I last wrote. I walk a half-hour a day and eat sensibly, but my weight still stays at the same old heavy weight. Funny, huh? Doing all this to maintain the same weight, rather than to lose. Normally, this regimen I’m on should cause weight loss, but instead I’m just barely being able to maintain my weight by it, but wacky thyroid or not, I accept the fact that I can’t get below 115 pounds. It’s just such a constant, everyday struggle to keep it from going into the 120s! Is my whole life gonna be about this? Makes me want to just say fuck it, and go back to eating what I want and not worrying about it, but I can’t do that anymore and hold the same weight. I’ll gain a ton of weight if I do, but we’ll see.

MONDAY, AUGUST 24, 1998
Tom should be home in about an hour. Mary brought him to the airport, and she’ll be bringing him back, too. That’s nice of her to do this since I can’t. He was gonna drive himself originally, but it would’ve cost a bit to leave it parked at the airport all day.

I can’t wait to hear all about his trip, and I hope and pray that he makes it back OK. I don’t have a bad vibe, but you know that these are the things that make me worry. I know traveling by plane is much safer than vehicle travel, but what with God and his ways, and with what happened to little Larry, and just the ways of life in general, I worry. A sudden tragedy can happen to anyone, anywhere. It’s just that unfortunately, most tragedies are inflicted upon the better people of this world.

Speaking of flying to Vegas, well, when we go, I’m gonna use journal 77 to write in during the trip (if I write at all). Since I began doing my journals on the computer only, I never finished the journal chart that I had left off with in that book, so there are several blank pages left over.

Later…

Tom is home now and is eating. After he eats, he’ll give me a detailed account of his trip. He said it was a stupid class, the cab cost a fortune, and that they cut the class early and he had to wait 4 hours at the airport. Well, they’ll reimburse him for the outrageous cab fare. The bank paid his airfare, of course.

I woke up at 117 pounds and knew I’d better get shitting today, or else I’d wake up at 118 tomorrow, which would still be within my weight range. Well, I did end up shitting off a pound, so I should be waking up at 115-116 pounds till I get stuck again. Then I’ll wake up at 117-118, and back and forth and back and forth.

Tom brought home a couple of little bags of peanuts from Southwest Airlines. And from the class - a little bean-bag dinosaur, a key chain, a little wooden box with Chinese writing, and a book he’s got to read before he can teach, I guess.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 23, 1998
Not a peep out of the bitch today, so the weekend was peaceful.

Tomorrow morning, Tom will be leaving for Vegas. Mary’s gonna pick him up and bring him to the airport at 7:15 AM. Then she’ll pick him up and bring him home at 10:30 PM. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to go in to work till 12:30 AM on Wednesday.

So, they’re basically gonna be teaching him to be a teacher where he works. Neither of us knows much about it, though, till the merger goes through and all that.

Woke up at 116 pounds and am hungry all the time. I have to wait a few more hours for my second and last meal of the day, so I munch on my mixed salad in between. It’s good right out of the bag. I even like it better without dressing. This is the second day in a row that I’ve been 115-116, so naturally, I’m stuck today. Guess my body’s just doing whatever it has to do to keep its weight at what it feels is ideal for it in this day and age. Anyway, this being stuck should reset me to 117-118, and if I can stick to this new diet plan, I should spend a lot of time being hungry, but I should never leave the range of 115-118 pounds.

Gotta do some dishes and do some more walking. I just wish the fucking belt wouldn’t lock up on me. Sometimes it gets sluggish like someone was putting a bit of pressure on it. I spray it with silicone spray, but it doesn’t always help. I want to feel like I’m walking. Not like I’m climbing an incredibly steep hill.

I’ll tell you one thing for sure, though, and that’s that when we do go to Vegas, I’m eating whatever I want. I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with being hungry all the while I’m gambling or doing whatever. I know I’ll have to start all over again when I get back because a day or two of eating whatever I want will throw me back up to at least 124 pounds, but it’ll be well worth it. When I get home, I can work my way back down to the 115-118 pounds I usually am these days. Even with the walking, God do I have a slow metabolism! I woke up at 116 pounds. Right now I’m 117½ and what did I eat today so far? Nothing but salad and one measly little TV dinner with a small portion of chicken lasagna. Oh, and two graham crackers, too. But that’s it. That’s all I had. It’s the shit. Yesterday’s food wasn’t shit off. It’s still with me. So, in a sense, I may as well say that today I’ve eaten 3 TV dinners, 6 graham crackers, lots more salad, and popcorn. By the end of today, I should weigh 118-119 and wake up tomorrow at 117. Well, maybe I’ll shit twice tomorrow. It sometimes works out that way where we make up for lost time here. Then I can get rid of yesterday’s and today’s food, get back to 115 pounds, then start all over again. I’ll be regular for a handful of days, then as my weight lowers, I’ll get stuck, gain a few pounds back, then shit and lose it again. That’s what I’ve been doing for close to two months now.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 22, 1998
No out-of-towners this weekend, but I guess little miss bitch had company while I slept. Tom said there were no music or ball games, though. A white car came and parked just inside the carport and then he said he heard a bunch of little kids, and that’s all he heard. Right now there are no lights on over there, and it’s early on a Saturday night, so that means that the subhuman black piece of shit meat is out somewhere. Unless she has to get up early, which I highly doubt. So, I’m sure I’ll hear her come door-slamming in any time now.

Can this bitch ever take one weekend off? Just one weekend? I mean, I can’t imagine not wanting a weekend to myself periodically with no visitors and no one picking me up. Guess she’s a clingy desperado who always needs to be around people (sort of like Evie). What is Evie’s fascination with me anyway? Why does she always want to do something with me or come and get me, etc.? I know she doesn’t feel sorry for me and my sterility like I originally thought, because she knows I don’t want kids, and from what she tells me, I think she envies me and my sterility.

Later…

Went for another dusk swim and it was blessedly peaceful.

Did some laundry earlier and soon I’ll tackle the dishes. Can’t wait till we have a dishwasher when we move, too.

Tom worked on the car, as usual, and there’ll be many more days of that to come, as is destined for the next handful of years or so.

I don’t know if Tweety’s dying or what, but he didn’t look too good, so I brought him inside. He seems weak and he’s sitting on the floor of his cage. Something he just doesn’t ordinarily do. Well, I can’t say it’d be any big loss to me if he did die. It’d just be one less mouth to have to feed and water since I’m not really a fan of birds. Neither is Tom. We both favor Measles over Tweety and if I could take Measles with us when we move, I would.

I was surprised to wake up at 115 pounds. Last night I had a 114-pound vibe, which is rather odd. We’ll see what happens, but as long as I don’t go back into the 120s again. One little change in my diet can cause me to swing out to 121 pounds like I just did the other day. I have a neat new diet plan that I think will be healthy for me and that’ll make sure I never go back into the 120s, as long as I stick to it.

Later…

The bitch just came in. I only heard one door slam. Couldn’t make out the car, though.

Anyway, I originally wanted to do the Slim-Fast diet plan and have a shake for breakfast and lunch, then a regular dinner, but no, God had to bless me with a bum stomach. I say that sarcastically, of course. So, instead of two TV dinners a day with graham crackers and popcorn mixed in, I’m gonna keep the two TV dinners a day but replace the crackers and popcorn with salad. Of course, I’ll do my walking, too. I’ll have a bowl of popcorn once a week. I’m not gonna deprive myself forever. It’s just that I can’t make any major changes/additions without it costing me a trip to the 120s. Hell, if I just kept on eating as I always have for years since quitting smoking, I’d be pushing 200 pounds by now!

As far as toning - I don’t know. Most of those target exercises never did me any good, and as Tom said, it takes a long time to see a significant difference. He said it may take me 9 months to a year and him about 3 years. He also pointed out how some people exercise for 5-10 years before they feel they’re where they want to be and at their peak fitness. It really is slavery. If it were something that could be accomplished in a month, no one would look like I do, or worse. Except for maybe most guys. Because most of them don’t care how they look, what they weigh, or how fit they are. Some women don’t, either, but it’s mostly guys who are less into their health/appearance. As for the craters, oh my God, I now have them from head to toe! That’s mainly an age thing. I can lessen them, but I’ll never get rid of them. I wonder about these hips, though. Never have I had hips like this before. I always had such narrow hips, but not now. Fortunately, though, the hip exercises were the most effective, so maybe I’ll do those more often.

Later…

Damn, this bitch crashes early. There are no lights on in the kitchen or living room, so unless the bitch is curled up in bed with her hand between her legs, sloshing around in the tub with a rubber ducky, it ain’t awake.

It’s in my nature to be a philosopher, as you know, and to analyze, guess, and wonder about all kinds of things - so - what would my life be like now if I were still back east? What a really fucking scary and depressing thought!!! If they had cut me off from SS and SSI without my having someone like Tom in my life, I’d have died for sure. I’d never have made it. Even if I could keep a schedule and dance till I got too old to dance, what would I have done afterward?

Tom is definitely my biggest blessing. Regardless of how many things he’s said and done that I disapprove of, I sure feel I have more security with him than I did with SS and SSI checks and my parents’ help.

If there is any subject that Tom’s words have never matched his actions (for more than the most part), it’s sex. No, this isn’t a complaint nowadays. Just observations. As I’ve said, we have sex Fridays and Mondays. Last night I got into bed to screw, when he said, “Let me use the bathroom for a minute first.” I’m thinking, oh boy. He’s gonna beat it off in the bathroom. I’d bet these journals on the fact that he did, too. After that minute, which was really 15-20 minutes, he came out, got into bed, and I said something like, “Gee! I was beginning to think some young, skinny chic popped into the bathroom and that you got it on with her.” Then he said I was impatient, he was reading a magazine, then he had to brush his teeth. I can see brushing his teeth, but he went and read a magazine while he knew his wife was waiting for him in bed? How romantic. Yeah, he really desires me. So much so that although it was the beginning of his day, he slept a long time, he had plenty of time to digest, the place was cool, he really squirt like hell! Yeah, right. Well, he’s not the only one. I tried using the vibrator, but I couldn’t get off. I told him I had a “missed” orgasm, where you have a very light orgasm, but it was close enough in a way. I did get more aroused than I have in quite a while.

Thank God, I mean thank fucking God, that he’s not your typical male. What with the way I’ve become so non-horny, I’d be driven crazy if he were all over me all the time, and if he were wetting the bed constantly. Speaking of that - he knows I’m dead serious about not wanting a kid anymore. At least I think he knows. Therefore, he’ll probably go back to not cumming at all.

Still have mixed emotions about going to get tested. Since I’ve stopped wanting a kid, it sort of put a damper on my curiosity about why I’m sterile. I mean, is it really necessary that I see if I can find out why? Who cares if it’s the eggs, or the uterus, or something else when I not only don’t want a child, but I know why God sterilized me? It’s simple - he sterilized me because he knew I couldn’t handle a child. So, is knowing all this really worth putting myself through the hassle?

Tweety’s still hunkered on the floor of his cage, but he did get up to take a drink. My guess is that he’s dying, but we’ll see.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 21, 1998
What? No weekend company, Joely? At least not so far, huh?

Anyway, both Tom and I have been very productive. This weekend, he’ll be doing the usual - car work, taking care of his ma’s house, yard work.

Tom says his Ma’s house won’t be a lot of work since it’s selling as a fixer-upper, but I still think it’ll be enough work till it sells at the beginning of next year, which is when I feel it’ll sell at this point. Well, like I told him, he can take all the time he needs to deal with his family’s affairs. I’ll support him 100%. Remember, it’s not like we’re newlyweds who have to be all over each other constantly. Due to my enormous love for him, he can have all the time and support he needs.

Yesterday, I went on a 3-hour cleaning spree and I scrubbed this fucking old, filthy, ugly kitchen like crazy. The sink is white porcelain like the tub is, so I had to bleach the shit out of that. God, I can’t wait till we have a stainless-steel sink again! The counter, which is so old and made of the same kind of tiles you have in bathrooms, had to be scrubbed too, and it sure as hell was hard to get in between the cracks. I scrubbed the microwave and the stove, too, washed the tablecloth today, and will do the regular laundry and sheets tomorrow. I still have to do other things, too, like cleaning the bathroom, among other odds and ends around here that need cleaning. Due to my not liking this house, I’ve been neglecting the cleaning. Gotta dust and vacuum, too.

I got the animals’ cages cleaned today, and later, I’ll work on the TV trays Tom brought over from Mom’s. There are 4 wooden trays on a wooden rack that need cleaning. It’s filthy with dirt and dust, but dirt, dust, crumbs, clutter, disorganization, and all that, runs in his family.

I checked the guide on the TV screen for the first time in a while and holy shit! There’s actually a new movie out that’s just my kind of movie - a scorned teenage girl seeks revenge on those who burned her.

Yesterday I was up to 121 pounds. I was so fucking watery that I took a water pill. Aren’t periods supposed to drain water? Well, this period ended up being rather wimpy, like I said. I needed ibuprofen, but no big pads. Just liners. So when I woke up, I was 116 pounds, but it fucking figures. All this extra weight gain over adding a lousy little bit of chicken to my diet. And apples and salad. I really should just stick to my two TV dinners a day and some salad, although when I tried this new menu for variety, I did cut out one of those TV dinners. I just can’t afford to take even one extra bite. My metabolism is just too slow for that and I’m just not no young thing anymore. If I were smart, I’d cut out food altogether and just live on liquids and vitamins, and just eat every now and then. That way, if I cut out food altogether, I wouldn’t have to worry if I went over an extra bite or two, etc.

Lisa called me again today (I’m beginning to wonder if now she’s gonna call me every day!) And she sounds great.

I awoke from a dream that wasn’t so great that involved Tom. For some bizarre reason that may have had to do with money, we had to live in separate apartments for 4-5 years in Springfield. Oh, how depressing! I’d rather wake up from a nightmare where someone’s trying to shoot me than all sad like that.

Tom got me some goodies for my hair. Some hot oil treatments and some split-end mending stuff. It’s stuff I’ve used before, but it’s been a while. It helps a little, but nothing will ever salvage this dry, frizzy, dead, damaged, uneven, straw-like hair like a good haircut would. It’s not gonna happen just yet, though.

Oh, I take that back about the dogs being quiet after dark. Last night, just after 9:00, they went on a little fit, so I used the wireless headphones (this was right as I was beginning to clean). Come to think of it, this has happened before, but things could be worse as far as dogs go.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 20, 1998
Another message from Jackie. She just doesn’t get it, I guess, that her uncle doesn’t want anything to do with her or her sister Pam. I mean, he and I will be polite when we see them in person, but Pam and Jackie are both users. They only call when they want something. This time around Jackie wants to know what the story is with Ma’s house. She and her husband Jim want it. They’re under the false idea that they can rent the house out and make extra money without having to work. Well, who would they expect to do the maintenance? Tom? Probably so. They’re not getting it, anyway.

Later…

I’m gonna try again in about an hour to see if I can get a peaceful enough swim. As I may have said before, in the last year the dogs have been better than ever. Instead of barking at night and every 5 minutes in the daytime, we’re down to no night barking and barking every 10-30 minutes in the daytime. Still, these little shits could go off at any moment for fucking ever! It’s hit or miss. Maybe I’ll be lucky this evening.

I ended up bringing on a flow by force. I made myself get off 3 times last night. Although this period is still rather light, it’s enough of one at this point. Again, though, I had more cramps for the period.

As my body was obsessed with weighing 124 pounds for the longest time, my body is now obsessed with weighing 118 pounds a lot. I’m surprised I am 118 and not 120. I’m so bloated. I think some of that bloat is starting to deflate a little bit now, however, as the water drains from me for a while. I may not be able to get any lower than 115 pounds, but at least I’m staying under the 120s.

Later…

Got lucky and got a good, peaceful, relaxing, yet invigorating swim for 40 minutes. Most of the time I just floated around, rather than swam, but that was the first orgasm I ever had in the pool. I suddenly felt horny, but of course, Tom’s asleep, so I took care of myself. I didn’t think I would be able to cum, as there are some distractions, like helicopters, but I did.

Tom and I had a pleasant chat before he crashed, about the possibility of us flying to Vegas in a few weeks. Great! I do like Laughlin better, but flying there costs more. They use smaller planes and they charge around $130 per ticket, but if we shop around enough, we can get a $70 ticket on a bigger plane to Vegas. So, I guess I’m not gonna miss out on flying after all, which would’ve been the highlight of the trip for me, had we gone to Florida. I love flying and gambling, but if I never really travel further than the surrounding states, that’s OK because I don’t like traveling in general. A cruise around Hawaii might be nice, though. And if I could be in England at the snap of my fingers just to be around the nice accents for a day, and maybe see Norah in a theater, then be back home at the snap of my fingers, I guess I’d do that, too.

Lisa called today, and finally, there was some wonderful news from her. At least, I hope it’s the start of a happier life for Lisa. For the first time in ages, she sounded really confident, happy, and hopeful. She said she tried to kill herself a couple of days ago, then got a new therapist that she loves. We didn’t get into what she did to try to kill herself, but I’m glad she got this new therapist she loves so much and that she feels is so helpful. Sometimes you do have to shop around for a good therapist. I’ve had therapists that were both not helpful and that were helpful.

She said that this one got her to see things differently and get to the root of the problem, as she put it. She thought she’d be better when Bill was gone so she wouldn’t have to put up with his emotional and physical abuse, but she didn’t get better. She just turned on herself. She now realizes that the reason why she turned on herself and picked up from where he left off, is because thanks to that bastard who oughta be tortured and killed, that’s all she knows. All she knows is self-harm. Yeah, I fully understand. She didn’t say Bill oughta be tortured and killed, though. Those are my words that I just wrote but I’m sure she feels the same. I try not to do what other family members have done and pit her against others. I just try to tell her my honest opinion and what I feel could happen in dealing with certain people, and that’s it. From there, she has to be the one to decide what to do.

Unfortunately, she’s still smoking, but hopefully she’ll stop before she’s 31.

I moved Tweety today for variety and something new. He was hanging off the edge of the patio. Right in between where the concrete and grass meet. Now, he’s just outside the back room window, so I can see him when I’m working on the computer when it’s light out. I can also see him from the kitchen.

I love Tom’s idea for a doggie door for Blackie for when we move. Instead of having the door lead to the whole house, we were thinking it’d be cool for it to enter into a small hallway where his food and water would be. That way, if we didn’t want him in the house, he could still get inside and to his food and water at all times.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 18, 1998
After Tom did some car work, then took a shower, we screwed. As usual, I just could not get into it. All was fine till he went to get up top. I didn’t see where I was when he got up there and apparently, my head was right at the wall, so he had no room since he’s taller than me. Instead of telling me to scoot down, though, he gave up so easily. Now any normal, red-blooded man who’s attracted to the woman he’s with and who’s normal sexually and not an old prude, would never have given up that easily. And it didn’t seem to bother him at all. He was perfectly content to just end it right there. It was as if it was the perfect excuse to escape it altogether, but I shouldn’t talk. I kind of have no desire myself. If what they say about a woman being most horny in her 30s is true, then all the more I’m just an abnormal fluke of nature myself.

Still, the out-of-bed Tom is worth the fluky in-bed Tom. Any abnormalities or lack of desire are all well worth the man that he is out of bed.

Later…

My period never ceases to do something new. I had a spot a couple of days ago, yesterday it looked like a light flow was beginning and I usually get a full flow after that, but today, nothing. My tits are a bit sore now, too. I’ve never not had a full flow that I can remember. Excluding when I was in my teens and the Navane was fucking things up. I still say it’s inevitable that I get a full flow, but now I know that anything’s possible when it comes to my periods. Sometimes I wonder if they’ll stop altogether. As long as I don’t have any problems or weight gain, my periods can do what they want. At least I can’t be pregnant.

I woke up at 117 pounds. I’m typically between 117-119 pounds these days, which is definitely as low as it’ll go because I’ve been weighing between that for just over a month now. Usually, if I weigh the same for that long, I’m gonna be staying there for quite a while, but great! That’s certainly better than 124 or higher.

Andy’s really gotten to be such a sad case. Well, he’s been a sad case now for a while, I guess you could say, even if he’s making good money now (till he flirts and gets fired). He’s such a pothead in the way that he’s such a forgetful little flake. He talks in slow motion, pausing 3 seconds in between words, and can’t remember shit. Yesterday he left a message about coming over today. I replied telling him I’d let him know tomorrow (today) when was a good time. So I called a couple of hours ago and told him he could come over between now and 9:00 and he said he forgot about it. Then he asked me if we agreed on a time and I’m like, “Andy. Don’t you remember? I said I’d call today and let you know.” Then he asked if I was sure 7:00 and 9:00 were the only times he could come over tonight. Then I had to repeat myself and remind him I said between now and 9:00. Not between 7:00 and 9:00. It’s a wonder he can even drive in the condition he’s in.

I gotta figure out how I’m gonna hide all this food Tom got today. I’m trying to switch to snacking on things like chicken, salad, and fruits, instead of graham crackers and popcorn. I hid the stuff I don’t want Andy to have, but he can have some graham crackers or toast if he wants if he comes over.

Later…

The Claritin’s not doing shit for me. I’m not surprised, either. As usual, it was something that seemed to be helping at first, but it’s just a joke. I knew it sounded too good to be true. Why has God always insisted I deal with something being wrong or different? Enough is enough already. Can’t he just leave me alone?!

Andy will be here between 7:00 and 8:00, so he says, and of course, that was the second time just now that we had to play phone about it.

Later…

Andy left a little while ago. He came over on time, smelling like a cigarette. He surfed the web, then we played 5 games of cards. All of which he won.

He didn’t have much to tell me this time around. Just that Michelle’s now really hired, instead of a temp, at the job she’s been at. So, now as long as Helen’s there, she’ll be there.

We were also talking about the president. God, he’s such a slut! This isn’t the first affair he’s had that he’s just publicly admitted to. The only thing about it that pisses me the fuck off is that millions of the taxpayer’s money went into investigating the affair. Oh, come on! His job is to be the president. Not be faithful. If he wants to whore around, that’s his business. What do we need to investigate it for or pay for it or know about it for? One has nothing to do with the other. As long as he can do what he’s got to do as president, then fuck his whoring around because 95% of the population’s whoring around. Anyway, I guess Hillary’s standing by him. What I think is that she doesn’t want to give up her position as the first lady, but will she still be with Bill after he’s no longer president? I swear anything named Bill thinks only from the waist down.

Oh, also, Andy came over somewhat baked. I knew he would sooner or later since he’s obsessed with doing the opposite of what one asks of him. At least he didn’t ask to eat the house down, just for gum.

Later…

Oh, I’m so fucking furious! I go out to have a peaceful swim, and I can’t even have that. Bark, bark, bark, bark! Does anyone ever tend to these fucking dogs? How the fuck can they stand it? Do most people really like noise that much? Do people really enjoy knowing that others can hear them or their dogs?

Then every fucking time I go out to do something, Blackie’s gotta be right at the door meowing her ass off. I swear, if I go in and out every hour, he has to go in and out every hour. If I go in and out every 5 minutes, he has to go in and out every 5 minutes. Thank fucking God I don’t have a kid. I could never handle it. I can’t wait till we move and get a doggie door so this cat can come and go on his own and leave me the fuck alone! Except for when I’m sleeping. When I’m sleeping, or if we’re not gonna be around to watch him and make sure he doesn’t bother the other animals or our stuff, we’ll lock the doggie door. He’s pretty good, so far, with not getting into stuff, though.

I have the air cleaner on when it’s light out. Sometimes I have it on when it’s dark, but as long as my animals are fairly quiet, I like to turn it off when it’s dark because that’s the only time there’s no barking around here.

Tom was just on his way to bed when I got up this afternoon. I told him I had a light flow again. He seemed so happy to hear that. He was even calling me beautiful. Well, if I’m so beautiful, why doesn’t he want me in bed more often? I shouldn’t talk, though, because if you asked me the same thing, my answer would be the same as his (although he wouldn’t admit this to my face) and that’s that it’s old news. There’s just no longer any excitement in it. It’s not new and exciting and so the lust flame has burned out. Thank God the love flame is still as bright as the sun. I’m sure it always will be, too.

Anyway, I still haven’t needed ibuprofen or a big pad. The light flow turned out to be more like heavy spotting and once again, it’s dying off. Will I ever get a real period? Well, logically speaking, I should and I will, but I just don’t know anymore. As long as I’m healthy and as long as my weight stays the 117-119 pounds it has been, then I won’t worry. Just wonder. I’m still on a good, healthy, low-fat, low-calorie diet, but I’m not walking as much. I just don’t care about getting down to 100 pounds anymore, which would take an unbelievable amount of work to do and it’s just no longer worth the slavery to me. If I didn’t starve altogether, I’d still have to eat even less than I have been, and I’d have to do a lot more walking which is boring as all hell. Even with a book, it’s just no fun, and not worth it to me. My life is still the same as it was when I was thin. Only difference is that I can’t fit into the same clothes. Big deal. There are new clothes to buy in the future.

When I got up, there was a message from Lisa saying that DYS was there at the house, and she asked me to call. When I did call, though, Tammy was there and she and the girls were cleaning. I quickly spoke to her, Becky, and Sarah, then Lisa. I asked Lisa if everything was OK since she couldn’t really get into it at that time. She said yes. I told her to leave me a more detailed message tomorrow if she calls and can’t get me. At least everything’s OK, though. She sounded chipper enough.

MONDAY, AUGUST 17, 1998
I cannot believe how long I slept! Again, thank God for no kid!

It’s a good thing that I don’t really care so much anymore about losing more weight because it seems something’s determined to keep me right where I am. It seems that every time I hit down at 116-117 pounds, it has me stuck the next day, so I get set back to 118-120.

I awoke with a light flow that seems to have dried up. When I need a big pad and ibuprofen, that’s when my full flow has arrived.

The white car didn’t spend the night next door last night and I’m sure it’s gone. Her usual ride dropped her off at 4 PM. When will her next out-of-towner visit?

Later…

Tom’s up now and he told me that the bitch got picked up at 5:45 this morning. That explains why the lights were off so early.

Got an email from Kim with some jokes she enclosed.

Tom was asking me how I felt period-wise and all that because he had to work on the car. He has trouble mixing work with sex and typically prefers to screw when he’s had no other projects to do. I let him know it’s OK if he can’t make the time tonight, and could sense he wasn’t anymore in the mood than I was. He’s always gonna have car work to do, so he’s gonna have to get used to putting that ahead of other things. He needs the car to work well enough to get to work and that’s more important than sex. I suggested that if he felt he could do both, as he mentioned possibly doing, then maybe he might want to screw first before he went and tired himself out with car work. Remember, he has to work too. As is his nature, he went the other way. He said he’d work on the car, then if there was enough time left over, we’d get together. Fine with me.

Andy beat me to the punch line and called today. I usually call him on Mondays. He’s finally making good money at work. He mentioned coming over and I told him that tomorrow night, which is his night off, would be fine.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 16, 1998
The reason I didn’t have a bad vibe was that there was nothing to worry about after all. The white car with the heavy black trim stayed till 11:00 or so but left quietly. Another car come to see the visitor, I guess, but then why was the van hauling shit out of it all night Friday night as if it were someone moving in? Anyway, the white car that’s been visiting, or whatever, leaves early in the morning and comes back around sundown. We’ll see if it’s gone by Monday as Tom thinks it’ll be.

Fortunately for both of us, though, I have no bad vibes and the stress has let up.

Later…

My very horny husband really wants a lot of sex. Really wants it full-time. That’s why he made time this weekend for at least a quickie. Ha, ha! Is this a complaint? No. Merely an observation. I’m not only used to his low drive, but now I’m used to mine, too. And no, I didn’t bring it up to him. There’d be no point. He’d only make excuses.

I finally began spotting today, so hopefully my full flow won’t be too far ahead, so I can lose some more water. I’m still holding between 117-119 pounds, thank God. Those water pills really are worthless, though. I’ll only use them if my tits get sore from here on out.

Tom and I had a good, productive weekend. He expanded Ratsy’s cage. His wire cage is square-shaped. We snipped a small piece of the top off. Just enough of a hole for him to fit through. Now he has two stories and high wire walls to climb. He loves climbing. So now his cage has gone from about one foot high to three feet high. Ratsy was in playing with Velvet while Tom worked. He worked while I babysat.

The only annoyance I had today was a 10-15-minute run-through of someone’s bass pounding far off in the distance. This time, even I, who’s bad with sounds/directions, could tell it was a very loud stereo far away. Not a soft one close by. I can’t wait till we get out of this city, but even so - if someone’s stereo can be heard loud and clear from the one to two miles that that stereo had to be at, what am I going to be able to hear from twenty miles away in another ten years?

I’ll be glad when we move and only have one cat and not two. I get tired of getting startled by the cats suddenly screaming when they fuck, fight, or do whatever it is they do.

Certain sounds I have become more tolerable of, though. Like I said, after something as obnoxious as the ungodly sound of a bass that sounds like hundreds of hammers beating all your walls and ceilings in unison, hearing screaming kids go by doesn’t irk me as much anymore. I can see if it were every day for hours, though, just like the Mormon kids used to give me. That’d get on my nerves, just like the ball games do. So far there haven’t been any ball games, but as soon as it cools down there will be, or in the early evenings anytime now.

So far, it appears that our main theory as far as that bitch goes was correct. Tom told me that as he pulled in from the hardware store, he saw the black bitch walking from the car that was in the carport with keys in her hand. I spied out the music room window shortly after and saw what looked like a basket of clothes sitting on the car. Her washing machine/dryer is outside in a separate little room. After I checked again not too much later, the car was gone and it’s still not there, so it does look like yes, it was a visitor, and the van and white car came to see the visitor. What I can’t believe, though, is that there weren’t tons more door-slamming.

Tom had another theory that sort of made me laugh. He suggested that maybe that was her car she just got, and maybe she was on a get-off-welfare program, has been working for a while, bought the car, and is therefore going to be moving soon. Very, very, very unlikely. I know I’d foresee this. I’d totally sense it. I still say she’s ours till we move. She ain’t going nowhere till after we do. Maybe not too much longer after we do, but as long as she behaves, and as long as I don’t have to be forced into having her evicted, she’s here till we leave at least.

I asked him where he thought she’d be moving to if that were the case. Why move? Why not buy the house she’s in? Because she wouldn’t have the money, he pointed out. Very true. She’d be moving into an apartment. Wouldn’t that be moving backward, I asked? He said, if she were getting off of welfare, that’d be moving ahead. True, if you think about it, but it’s still screwy. You get a house when you’re poor and an apartment when you can make it on your own?

Well, I still highly believe she’ll be a welfare mom till the kid’s at least 18, but of course, by then she’ll have more animals. And besides, if she knew she was moving soon, what the fuck would she care anymore about obeying the city’s orders to shut up? There’d be music galore coming from over there. Well, she’s lucky that that 2-3-minute concert was all I heard, because if I hear anything more than an occasional outburst, I’ll have her evicted, and if she’s planning to move anyway, that’ll be worse for her because then I’d wish I could kill her.

Although I’ve been in similar shoes she’s walking in and have been low-income and know it’s not always a person’s fault that they’re struggling, I have no sympathy for her. She’s just another welfare mom. She’s not disabled in the ways that I am. She can keep schedules and be consistent.

The Haunting was great. Yes, I finished it. It starts in 1910. A devil-worshiping great aunt takes in a mute 16-year-old boy whom everybody considers dumb. Especially back then. They were treated as outcasts. The aunt, who’s a widow, has a 44-room mansion. In a little shed with a dirt floor on the property, lives a couple with two sons and one daughter. The parents do laundry and yard work for the aunt, but mostly in town, for rent. The boys help them. The little 5-year-old girl stays on the property. The aunt ends up killing the little girl, the boy, and the boy’s girlfriend.

Nearly a century later, the reincarnated little girl, who’s currently age 25, comes back to the house, unravels the past tragedies, and then lets the aunt’s ghost kill her to sacrifice the lives of her sister, niece, and nephew, and to destroy the aunt’s spirit.

Evie’s getting to be a pest again with the daily messages. I feel bad for her, though, because like most moms, she’s feeling trapped and she said she told David she needs more time without the kids. She said David said we’ll see. God, I don’t envy her! That poor thing. I can’t imagine having to give up my life, my hobbies, my sleep, my Tom, my animals, my everything for that. Thank you, God, for sterilizing me.

Gee, we go to bed early next door, don’t we? It’s 8:30 now, and when I made a car check just now, I saw that all the lights were off.

Figured out how I’m gonna group my journaling on the computer. I’m gonna have 4 files a year. Say I started at the beginning of the year, for example. I’d have 98winter, 98spring, 98summer, and 98fall. I’m gonna consider January - March winter, April - June spring, July - September summer, and October - December fall. Since I began in June, rather than have June be a file all in itself, I threw that in with July, August, and September and it’s the 98summer file.

Later…

I had to break for something to eat. Yes, it was my third meal of the day. I’m just so fucking sick of being hungry all the time! Tom says that I’ll get used to it in a few months, but I don’t think so, and I just don’t give a shit about getting thin again. First, this new diet plan was fulfilling, but now I’m hungry so much of the time, and I wonder - is rocking really worth it? Sometimes I still feel it’d be best to just let myself go. I know my weight could really climb. Like into the 150s or higher, but it’s just so hard trying to keep my weight right in the 116-119-pound range. I’m back to 120, though, but that’s just life.

Speaking of weight, Lisa’s really upset over her weight. She says she’s up to 149 pounds now and thinks it’s because of her meds. I told her to ask her doctor about her meds. Becky’s a couple of inches taller than her, she says, at 5’ 5”. She also weighs 160. Wow! This is so hard to picture.

Anyway, Lisa called me last night and tonight. Last night, she was on the verge of cutting herself, but fortunately, she reached out to me and got me by phone, and we got her calmed down and laughing, too. I let her know just how proud of her I was that she didn’t cut herself. I told that her each bad time she pulls through without cutting herself, she’ll be stronger and will be proud of herself.

The poor girl has got a lot of problems that are gonna take time to deal with. And so many questions and concerns too, but all of which are normal for a girl her age. She’s got a full plate - her being suicidal, her weight, her smoking, her home life, her meds, her feeling abnormal, her emotions, Bill and other family members, etc.

I believe deep down, though, that she’ll pull through this. She’ll be OK and have a successful enough life. Not without problems. Some of her life will suck and she’ll have long-term problems too, but she’ll survive. I just know it. I doubt she always believes this and feels this way, too, but I know Lisa will make it.

I see what Tom means when he says a kid like her would still be worth it. It’s easy to say I’d never want to deal with a suicidal kid around but look at what a wonderful person she is. I couldn’t imagine my life without Lisa. The thought of being told she died brings tears to my eyes and totally depresses me. I never would’ve thought a kid and I would be this close. That one would tell me things that they don’t even tell their own parents. Still, Lisa is Lisa, and I still have no desire for our own kid whether it was like Lisa or not.

She told me she had problems using tampons and wondered about how she’d be able to have sex when she’s married. She asked about GYNs, and what I thought about sex before marriage. I told her not to worry about the sex when and if she’s married because that’ll work itself out. I told her I understood her concerns, though, and had them myself. I suggested she try KY jelly for the tampons and just try to relax at the GYN. I let her know it’d be uncomfortable, but not painful. As far as sex before marriage - I told her that age, maturity, and being with the right person were more important when it comes to sex than just marriage alone, but that was just my opinion.

When she asked me if I was embarrassed to see a GYN, I told her no and that’s the GYN’s job after all. They see lots of people. This led to me telling her something she didn’t know that I didn’t think she knew, but that I knew she’d be OK with. I told her she should keep it between us, not that I’m embarrassed by it, but that that was all I’d tell her about me for now, since she’s still a kid. I told her I danced topless. She kind of thought it was cool and feels the same way about prostitutes as I do. That’s kind of low, compared to what I did. Then she said it’d be cool to be on the Jerry Springer talk show about this. Yeah, I’m sure she’d find it a riot sitting on national television telling people that she thought it was so cool that her aunt once danced topless.

I called to wish Tammy a happy birthday, who was all giggles. It’s great to hear her sound so happy. I never knew her to be this happy. Ditching Bill was the best thing for her, although I’m sure she’s still a moody, bitchy, negative, shitty mom at times. She told Lisa she’d kick her out if she caught her cutting herself. How sensitive.

She said Mark spoiled her and that last night she didn’t get in till 6:30 in the morning. She got my confetti card and says that most of it is still all over her living room floor.

According to Lisa, who called a few hours ago, her day ended on a sour note. Lisa said they fought about all kinds of things. She said they did make up, but she almost ran away. I asked her where she would’ve run to. She said she didn’t know. I told her again to just tough it out till she graduates. Then she can be on her own and do what she wants.

She said she was upset about Tammy’s coming in at 6:30 in the morning. I asked her if she told her mother that and she said no. So, I told her that she’s got to speak up. Her mom may not know how she feels otherwise. I advised her to tell her mom that she’s happy for her and Mark, but that her coming in at that hour is a bit unnerving for her.

We hit upon the subject of Larry and the parents again. I asked her if she’d had any contact with Larry since I warned her of the shit she could very well face with him in the future, and unfortunately, she admitted to one call. I asked her if he mentioned what was going on with us and she said no. Well, there is nothing going on with us, so to speak, but I wondered if he’d bitch to her about my dumping him. He surprisingly didn’t, but I doubt he’d tell anyone I dumped him. I’m sure he and his parents tell people that they did the dumping, but anyhow, I warned her again of what she could have to go through with Larry. I told her that maybe it was wrong of me, but that I highly recommended she had nothing to do with my folks or Larry. She doesn’t need to associate with people who don’t believe her (my parents didn’t believe Lisa when she tried to tell them that Bill hits her, and Larry thinks he’s Mr. Wonderful, too), that hurt her, and that doesn’t fully accept her as she is. They want her to be, act, and do on their terms only. You know how controlling these people are.

I can understand that at her age, not as used to all this shit, she’s hurting over it. She loves my parents, but as I reminded her, it’s OK to have fond memories and to love them and miss them, but they’re not worth the BS she’ll mostly have to deal with from them. She’s gonna meet enough losers and abusers in her lifetime. She doesn’t need their shit, too.

She was hurt that my folks now have a block on their line rejecting collect calls when they know Lisa calls collect. Boy, they really despise anyone who speaks out against their precious Bill, don’t they? They only love him because he’s Jewish, he has a good job, and he got Tammy out of the house and out of their hair. They loved Tom for similar reasons. They never loved Tom for Tom. They love Tom for taking care of me so they didn’t have to.

Anyway, as I told Lisa, sometimes you have to give up a little bit of goodness in order to give up a lot of badness, that’s just detrimental to us. Here’s an example, in which I told her: Jen and Sandy never did me wrong in any way shape or form. I love them, they have nothing to do with my shit with Larry, but in order to get this asshole out of my life, I had to let them go too. It’s unfortunate that it works out that way at times, but that’s life. We all gotta do what we gotta do, and I’m sure that with time and age, she’ll learn to like herself more and to respect herself. Self-respect is a very important thing to have. Without it, one can really make a lot of mistakes and allow people with negative influences to be a part of their lives.

In a way, thinking of my folks and Larry makes me laugh. They’re so immature. I never really saw and realized just how spiteful, but mostly immature, my folks are till recently. And Larry too, of course, but oh my God! It totally reminds me of high school. You know where you have little cliques. Dureen, as I’d prefer to refer to her from now on, would be the leader of the “popular” group. She’d be the boss, and no one would dare stand up to her. Art would be her little ass kisser with no backbone of his own. Larry would be Dureen’s pal and then they’d do what children do best - pit people against others, bad mouth others, gossip, spread personal shit around, and discuss shit with the wrong people.

Oh, how I wish I’d dumped them years ago!!! What took me so long, huh? What took me so fucking long to thoroughly see these immature, spiteful people for who they really are??? It kind of embarrasses me that I let their shit go on as long as I did and I’m really, really fucking embarrassed, and even pissed at myself, that I let Larry back into my life to fight with me all over again and to cause such mixed emotions a whole decade and 3000 miles later.

I swear, the only “fond” memory I have of Dureen and Art is their sending me out here. If there’s one thing and one thing only that they did good for me, it was that. For a while, I felt like I owed them for that, but no, they owed me that.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 15, 1998
Just thought I’d write while I wait for “Jessica’s” clothes to dry. That’s the porcelain doll I stole (I’m washing her clothes) while I was at the Vista. Andy was calling her Stevie because of her long blond hair. I really would’ve preferred that Rapunzel doll. It was so cool looking.

These particular horoscopes that I’ve been checking out on AOL, are basically geared towards work. I’ll still copy them out in 159, though, even if I don’t have a regular job. Guess it’s a male doing it since it revolves around work/money. I’d think that if it were a female, they’d revolve around romance/family.

According to Evie, she began at 115 pounds, then after the kids, she weighed 180. Damn! That’s so typical as sad as it is, though. If I had had a kid at 100 pounds, I’m sure it would’ve left me in the 140s and if I had one now, yeah, I’d probably be left at 180 myself. Or 160 if it were just one kid.

Evie offered for me to use her rowing machine (we were talking about weight/exercise stuff), but I told her no thanks since it didn’t sound like anything that’d fit in a car too easily. I’ll stick to the treadmill.

I don’t want to go back to this daily email thing with her, she says she wants to come and get me or do something with me, I don’t care to get together with her, but I feel obligated to. It’s not that I have a damn thing against her, of course, I’m just not one that likes to be around people like she is. Anyway, Tom and I will probably invite her and the kids over in a couple of weeks on the weekend. It’ll probably be fun, and I haven’t met my nephew yet who’s over a year now.

Tom slaved over the car again today and true to my vibe, the wallpaper/screensaver changer won’t be done today. It works, but not perfect yet.

Tom still thinks that someday, somehow, we’ll have a kid. He thinks it’ll be from my body, but get this, he says we’re too old to adopt an American baby and we’d be given a foreign baby. Not that I’d ever want to adopt, but this makes no sense. If you’re too old for an American baby, you’re too old for any baby.

I asked Tom if I should put off and wait another 6-12 months to settle my natural curiosity (if I can) and go get tested then, or what? He said it’s up to me to do what I want, but he suggested mid-October because then it’ll be cooling down. Yeah, going out to appointments in 105º and up sure is a bitch. Well, I hope mid-October, which sounds good to me, will be it. I hope neither of us makes any excuses to keep putting it off because I know that if I go, I won’t wonder anymore what they would’ve done and what they could’ve told me, and I’ll feel a whole lot better about myself.

Ratsy bit Tom again when he stuck his fingers in the cage. Guess he just doesn’t like anyone who doesn’t feed him.

I can’t tell you how pissed I am to hear that Becky sent me a letter that I never got. I doubt she addressed it wrong, too, and I’m sure that was just one of the many pieces of mail that our illiterate fuck of a mailman misdelivered. Of all the pieces of mail, it had to be that one! Yeah, I’m sure that’s my punishment for delving into the bitch’s mail.

Speaking of the bitch - naughty, naughty! Only for 2-3 minutes, but I don’t know yet how tonight’s gonna be or what I’ll be in store for in the near enough future. Well, once again, her fate depends on her. If she stays or goes, is her call, but like I said, I really would rather not have to have her evicted. I don’t want her to go first and do something to the house, but if she did, Tom says I couldn’t just go to the PO to get her new address. We could get her address, but it’d take a little time. He says it’s now against the law for the PO to give out such info. That should’ve always been against the law, anyway, because people have a right to have their privacy.

I’m sure though, as sure as I am that the sun will set, that we’ll go first. Ever since she came and childishly went off on me, I had a strong premonition that she was it. She and her cronies were our final neighbors.

That pearl van came back again at about 8:30. I heard a lot of voices and door slamming. A little later, I noticed a car in the carport, but couldn’t make out the color. At that time I assumed it was the cock’s and that the time had come that they’d kissed and made up. But why get a U-Haul if you’re gonna be gone just two months, I thought? Well, maybe he didn’t know he’d be gone just two months.

Then, in the midst of hearing stuff being moved out of the van all night (I thought the van had stuff of the cock’s that they were moving in) they gave me a 2-3-minute concert. The second I heard the music, my blood began to boil, and boy did I have to restrain myself to stay in this house! It wasn’t as loud as Caddy Kid’s, but let’s just say that they made their point. They wanted to be heard, and they were heard. It was such an obvious test too, as if to say, hear me, Jodi? Don’t forget we exist Jodi. Acknowledge and notice us, Jodi. You gonna write the city again Jodi?

I knew there’d be occasional attention-getting shit pulled. They’re gonna do stuff periodically to remind me that they’re there, but does this bitch really want to hang onto that house like I was beginning to think? I knew I’d be compensated for all this quiet time I’ve been soaking up, but we’ll see. We’ll see what happens, but like I said, I hope that sick bitch wants to stay there. It’s up to her.

At 10:30 the van left. That was the only concert so far. The car in the carport turned out to be a white car that Tom never saw before. He was out test-driving the car when he saw it, but he didn’t think to look at the plate. He said he heard them packing stuff or doing something in the carport at 6 AM. At first I reminded Tom that the cock’s a car dealer, so it could’ve changed cars for the thousandth time, but as Tom pointed out, he’s never gone bopping around the carport that early. And there’s the van to think of too, then a picture formed with Tom’s help. This white car was visiting from out of state. The van people not only know this bitch, but they know her company, too, so that’s why they were hanging about.

That’s the problem with this bitch - she knows too many people. But it makes sense, though, because the more of an asshole you are, the more people you know, because most people are assholes. How much out-of-state company is this freeloader gonna have? And how long are these people gonna be here? What kind of noise am I in for? No car has been there since I got up at 7:30, but what shit am I in for tonight? Well, I’ll surely let you know. I don’t have a bad vibe right now, but shouldn’t I? Well, I just hope it is a very occasional outburst and nothing more. It could’ve been that she had nothing to do with the little concert and that her friends did it to piss me off. See, she obviously told her pals to be quiet once the city complained, but these van people could’ve been drunk, or just in the mood to fuck with me for a good laugh. It’s not them who’d be risking eviction, and her friends would be sick enough to do that. Her friends have no respect for her. They’re not true friends. They could care less about her, and the same goes for how she feels about her friends. If she were asked by one of her “friends” to turn the music down, think she would? Hell no! She’d pitch a fit, act as if she were asked to hang her kid, then she’d probably dump them. The same goes for if she asked something like that of her friends. Obviously, she has, but if you think she didn’t get hell for it, in a sense, think again. They reacted as if she asked them to kill their loved ones, trust me. If she asked them to keep the music down due to the city complaints, they’d be just as quick as she and her wonderful guy were to ignore her and do what they wanted.

Tom said that no, they’re not obsessed with me, and they don’t deliberately do shit to me. Well, I disagree, of course. I think they like to provoke me, they like to get a reaction, etc. However, one that has no respect to think of their neighbor’s reasonable request to lower their music, does show that they’re incapable of thinking of and of considering others. They may not even be able to consider/think of me, anyway. They’re just too naturally selfish for that.

Tom said it’d be better if they didn’t see me spying on them. Well, if I’m right, and attention is what they want, they should get off on seeing me spy on them. This is how it’s gonna be, though, because I don’t care. I don’t give a shit about them and therefore, if they see me spying, they see me spying. If not, that’s fine, too.

Later…

OK, the white car is in the carport, but the van’s nowhere to be seen still, fortunately. Since the car’s in the carport, I guess it’s safe to say that it’s in for the night. Now all I have to do is hope the van or any other vehicles don’t come slamming about or playing music. Hopefully, the van people got to see the white car people as they wanted to and will be out of the picture for a while. Also hopefully, this person isn’t a new roommate and will just be here for the weekend, then will fuck off till the bitch’s next out-of-state company blows in (if that’s really what this is)! Once again, though, why does everyone have to come see the bitch? Can’t the bitch go see them?

Last night, before I noticed the car parked in the carport, I saw someone walk through the carport (it was close to dark, though, so I couldn’t see who the fuck it was) and I thought, oh shit! The people in the van just hauled her in a big dog and she’s going to the back to rig it up, but then I realized I didn’t hear any barking. If this bitch does get a dog, though, it’s out of here, and more than likely so is she. If she got a dog last night, it would have been rigged to the car in the carport all night just a few feet from the bedroom window, of course, the little fuck!

I know Labor Day will be no different than the last two, whether the cock’s moved back in or not. There’ll still be a scene from over there. I don’t know if the cock will visit or not, but the pearl van will, and others.

I did the laundry, I did the dishes, I walked, so now I’m gonna go relax with this wonderful book I’m reading!

Later…

Current report - a white car with heavy black trim, that I believe I’ve seen before, just pulled in. No music, just a couple of horn honks. I’m still too stressed to concentrate on reading here, till I know what the fuck’s going on over there for sure, or until the vehicles die off. It smells so good over there. I think it’s coming from over there, anyway. It smells like they got some good chink food over there. I’m shocked that the bitch hasn’t been spending more time with her never-ending slew of company outdoors in the heat, blabbing away with their loud mouths.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1998
I’ve never been so pissed over not getting my period! Tom says it’s the water pills that are fouling things up. But I only took 3 water pills and the last one was days ago. If my period needs water to hitch off, then what’s it waiting for? I’ve got plenty of water on me. In fact, I could easily end up gaining a pound a day of water if I don’t get my period soon enough. My tits aren’t sore, but I sure feel like I’m getting it at times. I could swear I’ve felt cramps beginning. Well, I’ve been late before for my period and my cycle’s been erratic anyway, for the last several months. It’s just that it’s always when you no longer need or want something that you sometimes get it. Please, God! I do not want a child. Please don’t make my plumbing work. Please don’t make me give up my life, please! I love life too much nowadays and I need my freedom. I’ve been through enough physically and mentally. Go give the kid to some other woman who doesn’t want it, but spare me, please! Let me live. Let me sleep.

Logically speaking, I know I can count on God to not dish out stuff to me that I couldn’t handle. I can’t count on God to be fair, to let me weigh what I want to weigh, to not kill my husband, but I can count on him to spare me from motherhood and all its burdens.

Speaking of getting things I wanted too late - where was this call rejection thing when the freeloaders were calling? You can turn right around and block out an anonymous call you got even without knowing the number. So, after getting the first call, I could’ve just blocked them right out. I didn’t mind their calls that much, though, but it was Tom I was worried about. I didn’t want him to know they were calling because he had enough to worry about, and something like that may worry him more than it’d ever worry me. Besides, being blocked out by me may have only made them more determined to talk to me about racial harmony and they could’ve been hurt bad and I could’ve ended up in jail. Because you know that if they’d have pushed hard enough and perhaps came to the door, I’d have killed every single one of them right then and there.

Later…

Typical Andy. Not a word of sympathy over Bunny (I had left him a message about it). As usual, he’s so into himself and what’s going on with him. It was all about how he and Michelle went to the gay bar and they got attention with Andy’s tambourine. How immature. I mean, that was fine for years ago, but is Andy ever gonna grow up? Is he gonna be doing this when he’s 80? I swear that guy’s living the same life he’s always lived ever since I’ve known him. The only difference is that he’s in Arizona. But he’s still a waiter, still on the phone, still smoking pot and cigarettes, still alone, still wanting the impossible, and going about trying to get the impossible in the wrong ways and in the wrong places. Fantasies are great, but we all have to live in reality while we fantasize. Fantasies can’t be brought to the reality side of life. I used to think you could turn fantasies into reality when I was young and naïve, but the two are separate. You’re either dealing with pure reality or pure fantasy. If Andy would stop trying to mix the two and trying to make his dreams into reality, he may have an easier and better life. Dreams are dreams. Reality is reality.

Yesterday’s trip to the dentist was pleasant, but not so pleasant. It was nice seeing Charlene, Gary, the black lady, Melanie’s gorgeous face, and people I knew. These aren’t strangers anymore. Charlene’s friendlier than Melanie in ways that she’s more outgoing and talkative.

I told her I felt bad for her what with having to clean my teeth with the braces, but she said she didn’t mind. She thought it was nice that I thought of her, though. Nonetheless, the cleaning wasn’t the bitch I thought it’d be. It didn’t take longer than usual. She just took the wires and bands off, then cleaned them as usual, even though they had brackets on the centers of the top teeth (she thought I had braces on the bottom, too).

We were jokingly saying how she beat me up since she pinched my lip and pulled my hair by accident at one point.

Then Dr. Smith came in and sure enough, he said I had a cavity on a corner of one tooth. So, I’m gonna be getting that filled on the 1st, when I go to see Melanie. I highly doubt that there’s a cavity, though. But like I said, doctors will do anything to make an extra buck. Tom says the only thing that makes him skeptical is how I hadn’t been to a dentist in 10 years, then all the teeth that happened to have fillings were ones being pulled, and now I have fillings in teeth that aren’t being pulled. I can expect this every time I have a cleaning. No matter where I go, they’ll tell me every six months when I have my cleanings that I’ve got some sort of cavity. Most of which will be fictitious.

Then they took an x-ray of the tooth, and Melanie and the black lady (name?). Were waiting for me. I looked at Melanie and asked, “You gonna hurt me again?” She just laughed and Charlene joked about her being in a weird way when she laughs like that.

Yes, Melanie really hurt me. God, did it hurt! She had to put big-time pressure on that tooth and although the pain was only for 2-3 minutes, it sure felt like a hell of a lot longer.

She asked me if I got any more animals and I told her our rabbit died.

After the torture, we were standing at the counter as Tisha, or whatever the hell her name is, was looking for an appointment time for me and I commented on how tall she is. She said she’s 5’ 8”. Taller than her husband.

She also said that hopefully they’ll do the filling first so I’ll be numb when I see her, but nope. I’ll be seeing her first and even if I were numb, I don’t think it’d be close enough to where she’s got to apply such horrendous pressure. Wish she’d numb me every time, though!

I asked her if she had any idea how long it’d be before I didn’t have to see her every two weeks and she said she didn’t know, but that it’d be a while. Thank God she’s at least good-looking!

Speaking of that gorgeous Melanie, boy did I have quite a dream about her last night! I was in some huge building in a room far away from where there were a lot of people and it was getting dark. I don’t know why I was thinking that I should leave the room before it got dark and why I couldn’t just turn on a light, but anyway, as I started to leave, someone went running down the hall I was about to step into. They were breathing hard. It was fearful breathing. Like they too, wanted to get out of the darkened, deserted area. I called out something and saw it was Melanie and she said, “It’s me.” Next thing I know, she’s kissing me passionately on the lips and we were in a big, bright, crowded room. I remember wondering how she’d feel if she knew that all these people could see us kissing, then I awoke.

I inactivated the anonymous call reject and put the freeloader bitch’s number on our rejection list. So, if they call from another anonymous phone, fine. I’ll just block that, too. I’m sure Andy will like being able to just dial in, without having to punch other buttons first. Hope that doesn’t inspire him to call more, either!

Tom did his duty in life - worked on the car. He ate, watched TV, did some computer stuff, and then he lay in bed with the cordless headphones and listened to a discussion on hypnosis while I read.

I love this book I’m reading. The Haunted by Ruby Jean Jensen is great. After I finish it, I’ll discuss it here.

Lastly, we screwed. Naturally, he was too tired to get on top, let alone get off, but as long as he gets in there, sex is perfect.

Later…

God, this little shit next door is getting more confusing these days. The silver car that usually picks her up/drops her off just pulled in. I ran into the music room and although I only saw her from the neck down to just below the elbow, I knew it was her. Her arm’s as big as my thumb, that’s how skinny she is. She appeared to be walking a little kid. I thought she walked her kid into the house and that the car would leave, but just after I saw her go into the house with what I thought was the kid, her father came out of the house and got the kid. What? Has she got two little ones now? Or was she carrying something heavy or bulky?

Later…

That pearl-colored van pulled up quietly at the freeloaders at a little past 5:00. It’s still there now, too.

This has been a bloodless period. All cramps and no blood, but when the blood does come, I hope it’s enough to flush this water off of me. In other words, I hope I don’t have a half-assed period, although I suppose it really makes no difference. My water level’s gonna fluctuate no matter what, but if I can stay in between the 116-119 pounds I believe I’ll be staying at - great.

I just heard one loud door slam and if it was next door, as I’m sure it was, it ain’t budging yet. Pearly’s still parked there.

I take that back. It just left. After a deliberate, loud mother-fucking slam that sounded like it was gonna come through these fucking walls, it left with no music. Well, at least we’ve finally learned our lesson about the music after what? 2½ years? Of course, that’s subject to change, but hey, if it does, I’ll be dialing them a 30-day notice to fuck off and out of here.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 1998
Maintaining the same weight of approx. 116-119 pounds is a piece of cake. What with how I get stuck here and there and watery before my period, I can count on being set back from 116 pounds to 119 pounds. Yesterday I woke up at 116 pounds, but by the end of the day, I was 119 pounds because I didn’t shit that day. I’m also due for my period today, so even though I finally shit today, I’m still at about 118 pounds because I’m pretty watered down. I hope my period isn’t too late. I don’t want to take any more water pills this month because if I do, my period will be too half-assed. I want to let it do its job fully and clean me out of water, etc.

I know God would never do this to me, since he’s always made sure not to give me any more than I could handle, but it’s ironic how just yesterday I was saying, “Watch. Now that I stopped wanting a kid, God will give me one.” Tom was talking about how maybe when we move and aren’t in such a need for me to do all I can to ensure I sleep, we’ll be able to sleep together. I know that’s just a dream, though. God would never let me be normal enough to sleep with my husband, so thank God he loves me and wants to be with me forever anyway.

Nonetheless, that’s what started our discussion about the weird way things work out. Even though my logical side knows God would never stick me with a kid, there’s always that fear in the back of my mind. What if he makes my plumbing normal? God can do anything. What if we just happen to hit the odds and hit it right? God can make sure one of his sperm and one of my eggs meet no matter when we screw. So, I guess that until I hit menopause, these fears will always be lurking deep within my subconscious, but still, most women would envy me. They’d kill to have their own little built-in birth control system that they could depend on more so than any human-made birth control device.

Lisa called this morning, and thankfully, she didn’t cut herself again. She was upset over some boy in school taking the easy way out, as most people do. This boy can’t handle her problems and basically only wants to stick around when she’s all smiles. When she has problems, that’s a whole different story. So I reminded her that if someone can’t accept her as she is, through her good times and her bad times, then they’re not worth it. I told her also, that I understand that these things hurt at her age (till she gets used to it) and that her feelings are normal. The poor girl feels anything but normal now. My heart really goes out to her.

Later…

God’s doing what he does best - breaking the car so that Tom has to do yet another round of car work. God’s favorite pastime, I’ll tell you!

The silver Caddy, which I think is really a Chrysler New Yorker (I’m so bad with cars) just pulled in and dropped the bitch off, and I also saw a car parked on the street. It looked like it could’ve been that dark blue car. I think that’s the cock’s roommate.

Our insurance doesn’t cover the new allergy pills I’m taking (Claritin). It fucking figures, huh? So, we went and picked up several samples at the doctor’s office.

I would get into my little trip to the dentist, but I’m kind of wiped out now and just want to read, so I’ll get into it tomorrow.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 12, 1998
I haven’t taken a water pill since the day before yesterday, am due for my period tomorrow, and woke up at 116 pounds.

Tomorrow’s gonna suck. I always look forward to seeing Melanie, but I’m gonna be there for fucking ever! Tomorrow’s the double whammy. Charlene’s gonna clean my teeth before I see Melanie, and I’ll probably be there for at least an hour, maybe more.

Tom says they’ll tell me I have one cavity like they always do when I get my teeth cleaned. Well, if they do, that’ll be getting rather obvious. If they tell a person they’ve got a cavity every time they get a cleaning, then it’s obvious that they’re just trying to make an extra buck and that most of these cavities are non-existent.

Yesterday my allergies were so bad! A nightmare! It got to the point where my nose was so stuffed up that I couldn’t taste anything, I couldn’t lay down flat, and I really thought I had a cold. I give up on trying to identify what it is because every time I think I know what it is, the thing that I thought was it doesn’t bother me. Nonetheless, I cleaned all the animal’s cages. The mice, the pig, and the rat.

I think I have an idea as to what could be a more effective way to lose weight than the walking and low-cal diet plan. It’s the running bursts, I think. See, I don’t just walk, but I also add spurts of running, too.

I forgot to say that about a week or two ago when Andy came to grab Laura’s clothes, he had no problems shutting the gate, and even admitted that yes, it was probably him who left the door open because he forgot to slide the bar across the latch. That was nice of him. Still, I can’t wait till we move away from this old-fashioned crap.

The gas company painted our little tangle of gas pipes that’s out back. We don’t know why. Guess they were doing something with it. I wonder what the gas and electric meter readers must think when they see a rabbit in our yard?

Later…

I have some sad news. Bunny’s dead. Tom discovered him in between a clump of hedges, and we buried him out back by one of his favorite trees. For about a week, he hadn’t looked too good. He seemed weak and kind of out of it. He wouldn’t even eat the graham cracker I gave him a couple of days ago. He loved graham crackers. Tom said that from the looks of it, he was killed by a cat. He was going to die anyway, as rabbits and rodents typically live 2-3 years and they get weak and out of it and stop eating the week before they die, but the cat finished things off quickly. We think it was Daddy Cat. Mama cat wouldn’t be so hungry (none of Bunny was eaten, according to Tom) since female cats are better hunters, White Paws is too little and is sort of weak herself since she hardly eats, and Blackie certainly wouldn’t do it because he and Bunny loved each other. Blackie was sad, too, as if he knew his friend was gone. As Tom said, it’s an instinct for certain animals to prey upon weak and vulnerable animals and kill them just to kill them. As Tom also pointed out, it may have ended poor Bunny’s suffering a lot quicker, too.

In better news, Tom’s in good health, thank God. He got a letter back from the doctor saying all was fine and to come back in a year.

Remember how I said I told God the other day that I’d take Caddy Kid in exchange for weight loss? Well, Caddy kid banged by loud and clear twice today. His usual times are at 7:40 AM, 1 PM, and sometimes in the early evenings.

Mom’s finally decided to go ahead and sell her house, but I still have to see this to believe it. I kind of felt that the house wouldn’t sell till after she was gone. However, after I had time to soak up what Tom was telling me, I had a vibe that the house would go next February or March, but we’ll see. I still vibe that she’ll live to the age of 77, but not according to the doctor. Even Tom said she’s been bad and has been falling down lately.

Anyway, all that’s in the house is now fair game. Then Tom (of course he has to be the one to do most of the work) is gonna prep the house for a Realtor. Ma’s gonna take the first offer she gets, so it oughta go fast. We won’t be getting the $300 a month that Ma’s been giving us to look out for the house once it’s gone, but I think it’s best that the house goes. I’ve pretty much always felt that way since Dad died.

I asked Tom what I could do to help him and he said just supporting him would help him. That’ll be easy enough. Way easier to deal with than when his father was dying. Things are different now. I love to see Tom every day and to talk with him. I couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day, but back then I wanted sex every day and wanted a kid and was like, maybe. Just maybe I’m not sterile after all. Maybe God was just waiting for the perfect time to let me get pregnant and maybe a kid is in my destiny and maybe I really can handle it and he knows this. Now that I’m not a nympho anymore, and now that I’m facing the reality of my sterility 100% and realizing just how blessed I am to be sterile, I can let him go a lot easier and let him be tied up elsewhere a while. I’ll still see him regularly enough, so it’s OK.

I called my doctor’s office and left a message for someone to call me back. Some guy called back, and I told him about my allergies and how some days I’m fine, others I’m not, I take Benadryl, but Benadryl makes me drowsy. So, he’s calling in a prescription for a new allergy pill that’s supposed to be great. Tom mentioned it to me the other day, too. It’s supposed to not cause drowsiness and you only take one pill a day, too. He’s calling in a month’s worth and says to call if there are any problems. Oh, I hope to hell this works!

TUESDAY, AUGUST 11, 1998
This must be the longest I’ve gone in between writing in a long time. A whole 4 days! That’s because (I’m trying to get out of the “cuz” habit and write properly). I’ve been busy as hell, but things have been great.

Most of what’s kept me tied up is the computer work I’ve been doing. I have only nine more journals to proofread! I told Tom to thank Mary for me for proofreading them. That’s the name of the lady’s voice I have my talking lips set to. There’s Mary, Mike, Brutus, Freddie, and variations of these voices.

I had Tom switch me back to Windows ‘95. Windows ‘98 sucks and even Tom agrees with me. I hate its sliding menus. Also, there’s no point in my being able to choose two colors for my active and inactive title bars when the damn thing only displays one color half the time.

Before I get into my big project I was doing - another quiet, freeloaderless, doorless, dogless weekend. With or without him in the picture, though, I know I’m gonna have to deal with winter noise. Meaning that as soon as it cools down, the kids are gonna play ball regularly enough. God’s gonna compensate me for sure for these quiet months because that’s how it always works. I always have to pay for every little blessing I get.

I told God, though, that he could stick Caddy Kid on me all he wanted to if he’d let me lose more weight. This weight-loss thing is going so slow that I’m virtually positive my weight’s settled at what it’s comfy at and is gonna stay at (116-119). Anyway, the day before I told God I’d take Caddy Kid for weight loss since I have to pay for everything, I heard him for the first time in a while. I thought someone was knocking on the door, till I looked out and saw him banging by. But ever since, I haven’t heard from him. That’s fine with me, though, because I still can’t stand it when he goes pounding by, and losing weight isn’t as important as it once was.

Later…

Lisa called a while ago, and I love the different ringtone for long-distance calls. (part of that new package) it rings intermittently for long-distance calls, thank God, or else I’d have ignored the phone and written it off as one of our many sales calls. I cannot believe how persistent these salespeople are. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it before and neither have others I’ve talked to. Maybe God really is paying me back. First he took away my sleep for taking it away from hundreds of others. Now, he’s annoying me with the phone for annoying hundreds of others.

Anyway, Lisa cut herself again and went back to smoking (I don’t know if she ever really quit to begin with). I told her the same things I’ve told her before about why she shouldn’t be cutting herself or smoking. All I can do is hope that it’ll sink in in time and that it won’t take something as big as window-jumping to get her to learn her lesson.

Here I am, finally without the anger that I’ve had for years over the uncles, Larry, the parents, and now I have to deal with my anger towards Bill. Meaning that I finally either find ways to deal with and flush out my anger towards these people, or let time dissipate it and now I’m replaced with how much I want to kill Bill. God really is bound and determined to replace every single problem I fix or that just goes away on its own, isn’t he? If I were 100 pounds tomorrow, the next day there’d be a new problem waiting for me. If we won the lottery, we’d be inflicted with health problems for sure. Anyway, and like I said, the parents, uncles, and brother, are all in the past, but boy would I love to kick Bill’s ass to hell and back! If only he knew just how lucky he is that I’m so far away.

I find I often have scary, but mainly sad thoughts of Tom dying. No, I’m not talking about vibes or premonitions of any kind. Just thoughts. They’re so sad that they make me cry. You know I couldn’t live without my Tom. Still, I wish these thoughts would go away. They’re so utterly depressing! Just thinking about him dying makes me cry, so that should tell you all the more, just how quickly I’d kill myself if he really did die. Well, if God wants me to die by hanging myself, he’ll let Tom be killed. He knows this. In fact, I told God that if there was only one prayer he’d grant me from here on out, it’d be to let me be the one to die first. Everything else after that is just extra. I’d be enormously fat, based to holy hell, and have all kinds of shit/problems before I ever lived without Tom. Even if I could survive on my own (and I couldn’t because of my schedule problem) there’d be no life without Tom.

Tom and I made a new little sex plan. So far it’s been working out fine, but you know that’ll change. Whatever it is that’s up there, that’s always been so bound and determined to hex me sexually, will get in the way yet again.

The new plan is to screw every Friday and every Monday. Those are the two days that our schedules shouldn’t prevent us from getting together. We can have sex on other days, too, but we’re starting with these two days for sure to see if it helps the irritation I’ve had. As I told him, I can’t keep going through that. We need to either have sex or have no sex at all. So far, he’s been letting himself in there and that’s the only thing I care about. As long as he either gets in there or says he’d rather not, I don’t care how the sex turns out. In fact, now that he knows I’m dead serious about not having a kid and that that’s no longer something I want, he’ll probably never cum again which is fine with me. Not because I have any doubts about my sterility, but because I know he’s just as happy with not cumming, and because of the mess it makes.

I had Ratsy in Velvet’s cage for a while. It was cute how they played together. Right now, I’ve got Ratsy’s wire cage inside of Velvet’s Plexiglas cage, since Ratsy would only jump out of Velvet’s cage. Plus, he likes to climb the wire. Tom said he had a good idea for modifying Ratsy’s cage, in his message to me before he split for work, but he didn’t get into it. Well, he ought to be home soon enough.

Now for my big project. Tom expects to have his wallpaper/screensaver changer program done by Saturday. Meanwhile, I made a couple of new wallpaper/screensaver schemes. I wish I’d done this a long time ago because it is sooo cool! It started with me making Tom a little present. After all, he’s made and done for me computer-wise, I thought it was high time I returned the favor. So, I scanned in all kinds of family pictures with relatives of ours on both sides of the family. Minus the folks and Larry, of course. I did start to put in a few of Dad, but then I deleted them. I have pictures of Jen and Larry Jr. Both of us really liked this. Doing the family pictures inspired me with more ideas, so then I went on to make a folder of journal covers, too! I scanned all but about forty covers since there were some duplicates. Also, some were just too ugly for scanning. So now I have three different sets. The ones with Gloria and Norah. The family pictures. And the journal covers.

Later…

They say ignoring a troublemaker is the best way to deal with one, but I disagree. I’ve always learned that facing the troublemaker is the only way to deal with one. Well, it may not be a perfect solution all the time, but you sure as hell have a better chance of getting trouble off your back if you face it, rather than turn your back on it. And if you are gonna turn your back on it, you should face it first. So, instead of ignoring the first sales call of the day, I picked up and said, “Look, you’ve been calling consistently now for years…” then the woman asked me if I knew who she was. She said she needed to talk to Tom about his American Airlines account (the one he doesn’t even have) and I told her to go to hell and quit calling. Again, it ups my chances of getting these assholes off my ass, but for the most part, these salespeople just don’t get it and they just don’t give up. She’ll call again tomorrow. Even so, it feels good to get my frustration out on these persistent assholes every now and then.

I wish I could be just as persistent as they are with not snacking in between meals, but it’s so hard. It started off easier than the one meal a day, but now it’s gotten hard again. I still have more energy, I’m still walking, but I’m back to being hungry a lot. My body’s constantly crying out for the food and pounds it naturally craves, but I’d really rather not let myself get back into the 120s again, because then rocking will be hard again. It never ends, though. All this slavery just to stay where I am now in the first place! Why oh why did I quit smoking? What a waste. I just threw away one problem for a new one, but like I said earlier, that’s how it always is with me. Everything in my life was predestined to have a certain balance of - and + in my life. At least I can say, though, that my life has never been better than it is today. I feel more at peace nowadays, than I ever have before. I’m not dying to have lots of things I can never have. Instead, there’s just one thing I’d really like, which is to move, and that’s a done deal. Meaning, that is possible, that is destined, and it’s gonna happen someday. As for the weight - it’s OK if I lose or stay where I am so long as I don’t get too much bigger to where I can’t rock.

No, I certainly don’t miss the loneliness, the aloneness, the struggling, the addiction to Navane, the wanting a woman, the wanting to be a singer, the high sex drive I couldn’t satisfy with Tom, the wishing sex could end with him cumming, the wanting a kid, the wanting to quit smoking (I know that if I still smoked I’d still be thin, but my lungs would always be just as shitty as they were back then), and a million other things, like my parents and Larry.

If this were a year or so ago that we were in the position we’re in now, I’d have run to the doctor about my sterility in a heartbeat, even though I’d still come out of it without a baby. Now? I’m not even curious about finding out why I’m sterile anymore. If it was as easy as snapping my fingers to obtain the info that’d be different. A part of me feels obligated to go for testing because of how Tom took the time to switch us to Intergroup for its broader infertility programs, but I just don’t want to go. My heart’s just not in it, and I’m tired. First it was the ear, then asthma, then the ear again, then the braces, and lots of colds and flues and infections along the way. I’m just tired. Tired of the medical roller coaster.

Later…

freeloader update - at noon I heard a door slam, and shortly after, Tom came in and said El Cocko was parked in the carport. It left quietly without a door slam not too long afterward. Not one beat of music. And you know damn good and well that if this were in the past, he’d have come banging in. Tom believes that our city letters did the trick as far as the music goes and I think he’s right, although it’s sad that people won’t do right when a neighbor asks them to, but only when the city does. They’ll lower their music for the city, but not for a neighbor! I disagree with him on why he’s not living there, but I hope he’s right because if he is, it may lower the chances of him coming back, although I highly doubt it. I’m sure he’ll be back at some point. Anyway, I think that he moved out because they had a fight. He thinks it’s because of the letters. He thinks that by the time they got the second letter, they realized how serious we were and really checked into it and pushed to have him move out.

OK, say Tom’s right. No retaliation, though? I’d think that if his moving out really had to do with us, that they’d know it and that they’d try to pull some shit on us. Well, maybe they know it just won’t do them any good, and maybe the bitch really doesn’t want to lose her house, which is cool with me. As long as next door’s quiet and not distracting me and interfering with my everyday living, I don’t give a fuck who lives over there.

Wish we’d sent those letters in March of ‘96, though!

Measles was on the patio all by herself just now, so I gave her some of Tweety’s food.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 7, 1998
Here we go again with the allergies. I got up at 7 PM, but by 11 PM, I was so sick of sneezing that I took a Benadryl. That, of course, knocked me out for a couple of hours. My oh-so-horny-all-the-time husband lay down with me and we chatted till we both knocked off. He eventually moved out onto the couch, though, so I wouldn’t have to listen to his goddamn snoring.

I told him I was dead serious about the all-or-nothing sex. If we can’t do it full-time, regardless of how it pans out, then we can’t do it at all cuz I can’t keep going through this irritation I get. I know God will do all he can to see that we don’t stick to the plans we made of having sex on Fridays and Mondays, but I can’t keep up with that shit. It really hurts to have to feel like a virgin being broken into every week or two or more, then having a few days of irritation, then doing it all again. That cycle has to be broken.

I’m still a bit groggy, so I ate, walked, and now I’m having caffeine coffee to hopefully bring me back to life. I feel like I could just lie in bed for hours doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, and you know just lying around still doing nothing, isn’t me. Well, I’m not as out of it as I could be.

I absolutely can’t believe that my brother didn’t either read the letter and call me about it or send it back unread. This tells me that there’s a damn good chance he just threw the letter away as soon as he got it without even opening it, let alone reading it. That’s OK cuz we can part now with no hard feelings. Meaning that since I got to express myself this time around, I can let him go without the anger and anxiety. My emotions have gone dormant now, and that’s what I always wanted as far as my family is concerned. Now I can move on without them and without them haunting my emotions and thoughts. They’re people I remember, that I knew for years, that brought me both good things, as well as a lot of pain, but now just like Jai, Jenny, Jessie, Steve, etc., they’re in the past. No more bitter and negative emotions. Just memories. Just like with the people I just mentioned, they can live their lives as they please. They can think, say, do, and believe anything their hearts desire.

What’s the point of having Caller Reject if you can’t reject certain numbers? Tom got a package deal on phone services. They’re cheaper than what we’ve got now, even if we’ll never really use them. I went to block out Larry’s number anyway, and it wouldn’t let me block that number. What? Does it only block local calls?

THURSDAY, AUGUST 6, 1998
I put Ratsy in the smaller aquarium last night just for variety. I was wrong when I said it’d be nice to have a duplicate set of tubes/cages that the mice have. He’s just too big for them. It was so cute and so funny how he ran back and forth in anticipation of getting some lettuce when I got up. Just like a dog waiting eagerly for food/attention. At one point, he was jumping up and down and hitting his head on the bottom of the maze (which sits on top of this aquarium).

Anyway, we’re gonna modify Ratsy’s cage. The pink and white wire one.

I made some Norah posters earlier, just for something different and fun to do. They’re pretty neat looking. We could’ve made time for sex instead, but neither of us wanted to that bad it seems.

Tom was coming down with another one of his many colds (actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t had more by now), but I guess it never turned out to be much of a cold. His doctor said there was a lot going around now. At this time of year? How odd. He ended up with a different doctor than I’ve got. He said she was nice.

When asked if there were any problems with intercourse, he said no. Yeah, I knew he would. I knew he wouldn’t mention the near never cumming, cuz as I always believed, it was never a problem for him. He’s happy if he cums, he’s happy if he doesn’t, but that’s good. I feel the same way now. Especially now that I don’t want a kid and especially since I know he’s happy either way. So I agree - he can cum, he cannot cum. As long as he’s happy. What they really mean, anyway, when they ask this question, is if a guy can get a hard-on. Well, he’s certainly never had a problem with that. Like I said, I don’t think a doctor would ever ask about cumming like they would hard-ons, cuz if you can get hard, you can cum. It’s all psychological and getting hard without cumming much is very rare. Oh, he’s common, though. Most guys, either consciously or subconsciously, don’t want kids. Where Tom’s rare, though, is that most guys consciously know if they don’t want a kid and they aren’t afraid to say so.

Later…

How wonderful it’s been without Caddy Kid blasting by 2-3 times a day. Lately, he hasn’t been around. It’ll be back, though. It seems to come and go.

The usual weekday routine is still going on next door. I still don’t know for sure if it’s every day, cuz my schedule isn’t always on days, of course. Nonetheless, at 7:15, in comes the silver Caddy. The freeloader pulls up on the street, grabs the kid and leaves, then the bitch hops in the Caddy and off it goes, too. I cannot believe these freeloaders’ consistency! Even I could never be that consistent.

I think I know just what happened, though. I figured that the cock either went home to mommy and daddy or moved into an apartment with a guy pal and is roomies with him. The second is the more likely thing. I think he drove his gray car over to his new apt. His roomie took him back to the house here in his dark blue car. He drove the U-Haul over to the apt., while the roomie drove back in the car and together they moved him in. God, please don’t let me see that U-Haul again! And if I do, please let it be right when we’re moving.

I know this is pure fantasy, cuz the cock’s gonna be back sooner or later and I’ll have to listen to whatever door slams, dogs, company, and ball games he’ll bring in, but I wish things could stay as they have been till we move. It’s been great. If she could just stay there herself, like she’s supposed to, then all I’d have to deal with till we moved would be neighborhood kids coming to use the basketball hoop. I really hope she or anyone connected with her doesn’t act up, as I said, cuz then I’ll just get her evicted and you know I’d rather not. I want her to stick around for a certain delivery to be made.

I took out the two soundproof panels and the tin foil that was in the music room window. I did this cuz the only function that the two panels were serving was to block out light. (Watch. Now that I’ve pulled these out, the bitch will replace her burnt bulb in the carport. I hated when that thing would glare on and off while relaxing to music). Anyway, a little light won’t kill me, and that security light also has helpful functions once it’s replaced.

It’s just that I miss spying, even if there’s nothing really going on to spy on. I can also put a glass of water on the windowsill now while I’m on the walker, and can reach it from the walker. Before, I had to keep jumping off it to get a drink.

I’m only in that room to listen to music and to walk and no noise could bother me when I’m doing that, cuz I couldn’t hear it anyway over the music or fan. The bitch may hear me singing at night, but you know I’m now a true Arizonan who couldn’t care less about her neighbors. And if I were asked a reasonable request, why I would just flip, right? I’d be such a true Arizonan and act like I didn’t give a fuck. I’d ignore their request and go further and act as if they asked me to kill my husband or something as horrible as that.

Later…

The bitch and kid left quickly and quietly this morning. If that teenage boy or anyone else lives there, it’s completely unknown to me. Anyway, all I heard was a few seconds of talking. At one point, in her usual pissed-off tone, I thought I heard her say “I thought I told you…” presumably to the cock.

So, did the cock move out cuz he and the bitch were fighting? Or cuz he’s not supposed to be there? I’d say it was cuz they’re having one of their fights. If it were cuz he wasn’t supposed to be there, then why did it take a whole year for them to catch on and order him out of there? Nonetheless, they’ll kiss and make nicey soon enough.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 5, 1998
Andy told me something funny that Melanie, Andy and Michelle’s friend, said last night while I was on the phone with her, but that I didn’t hear. It’s hard to hear over all the typing I was doing and with the voice thing going. Andy said she asked, “What race are you? A man or a woman?” That one’s nice. I jokingly asked Andy earlier, “What religion are you? Black or white?”

Andy also says Gloria has a new album out called Gloria. I guess it’s in English. I’ll have to check it out, although I’m sure it’ll suck. Each album an artist puts out gets worse and worse.

Tom went to the doctor today for a check-up. Finally! I’m really proud of him. I kind of feel obligated to get tested now, since he did switch insurance cuz this one’s supposed to have more stuff for that, and since he sort of got checked for that, but guess what? I don’t want to. I just don’t care to find out just what makes me sterile anymore these days. I’m just not all that curious anymore and I certainly don’t want a kid anymore. Thank God! I don’t know what I’m going to do, though. We’ll see. First, I want to get out of the bi-weekly appointments with Melanie before I decide whether or not to take on any more appointments. After the ear, then the teeth, asthma, etc., it kind of gets old.

On the 24th Tom’s going to Vegas. The bank’s sending him. Unfortunately, I can’t go too. He’ll be going in the morning and flying back that same afternoon. They’re gonna train him to be a teacher. How neat, huh?!

TUESDAY, AUGUST 4, 1998
The bitch slammed her door at 6:30, and right now, there’s a car parked in front of her place on the street. It’s too dark to see what car it is, though.

Andy came over and was here from 7:00 till just now. I fed him a TV dinner that I had Tom get just for him in exchange for terrorizing the poor guy. I also let him browse the Internet, of course.

He called to wish his brother a happy birthday. He called David in Enfield, but he wasn’t home. He called to wish his mom a happy belated birthday, too. She and Al are in their early 70s now. Guess they won’t be around too much longer.

The good news of it is, is that he came over sober, although he was his usual slow, flaky self with his usual not-so-good memory. He also noticed the weight loss and says that even my face went down and that I’m still so little. Yeah, I know I’m not as tall and as wide as most women, but I still wouldn’t cry if I lost 15 more pounds.

Is the grand finale coming up? The one where the dogs go on their last barking fit of the day? It’s almost 9:00, so we’ll see in a little while.

I’m having a blast with the Microsoft Mouth. It’s great for proofreading.

MONDAY, AUGUST 3, 1998
Tom searched online again and downloaded me what I thought was the perfect wallpaper/screensaver/scheme changer, but nope. It’s so bugged. It does a bunch of weird shit and sometimes it gets hung up. I tested and experimented with it for hours, but every time I think I figured out how to fix it, it does something else it shouldn’t do.

We screwed yesterday and it went fine, except for the first 20 seconds he was inside me. Oh, my God, it was excruciating. Is this really because the muscles and all that aren’t used to regular sex? Or is it cuz I’ve got some kind of cut that never healed? Tom says he thinks it’s cuz we don’t screw regularly. Like with the braces. I got used to them after a few days, but if I were to get used to them, take them off for a while, and then put them back on, I’d have to get used to them all over again. Well, I don’t know if it’s cuz of the part-time sex, some cut that never healed properly, or something up there that’s once again hexing my womanhood, but I try not to give in to it. I just deal with it. I have a cream I put down there when it acts up.

Why do I still get the feeling, though, that he sometimes deliberately won’t go inside me cuz he’s either not in the mood, wanting to play games, or both?

Later…

Forgot to mention earlier how I woke up at 115 again. And I didn’t even take a water pill yesterday and I had 3 meals, too.

I heard soft bass thumping at 11:00 last night for about 10 minutes, but couldn’t figure out where the hell it was coming from. There were some door slams that I thought were next door, but I didn’t see any cars there. I just hope they behave if he’s back, or whenever he does come back, cuz I’d really rather not have to have them evicted. I’d rather they stay and that we move first, so I can be their librarian.

Later…

Well, tonight I learned a big lesson. Don’t ever play a joke on a paranoid pothead. A few conversations ago, Andy had told me he’d still be making prank phone calls if it were still easy enough to get away with. Also, he wishes he’d get some prank phone calls. So, tonight, I gave him what he asked for. Tom installed this really cool program into my world. It’s talking lips. You can set the size and shape of the lips and pick from female and male voices. You can also adjust the pitch and speed and add echo effects and shit like that. Using different voices, pitches, and effects, I called Andy’s and this girl answered. Before this, though, I left several messages on his machine all saying the same sentence (Hi Mark, I want to suck your cock) in different voices with different effects. This thing can also read text from my journals and things like that. I had it read parts of earlier journals onto his machine.

When I called and got that girl, he hadn’t listened to his messages yet. Anyway, I talked to this girl and since I can type so fast, I really thought that she and Andy would know it was me. How many people do they know with computers and who can type as fast as I do? Michelle has a computer, but hers is a piece of shit. She also can’t type as fast as I can. Anyway, I used the names of people Andy knew and spoke to the girl, who I found out is Melanie, a friend of his and Michelle’s, and then I spoke to Andy. I told him I was sorry my voice sounded so funny, but I had cancer and had to talk through a pipe in my throat.

I basically hit on him and was stunned to see him fall for it. I could not believe it! How stupid could he be?! But it’s all cuz of the pot. He can’t remember shit or figure things out too easily cuz of the way that pot kills his memory and slows his brain down. I just can’t believe he didn’t put two and two together and realize it was me playing around with him. He not only was too stupid to realize it was me, but it terrified him. And even Melanie, too. Are druggies always so paranoid and so easily spooked? Andy’s afraid of everything and everybody! Everything either bores or scares him, I swear.

After we hung up, he later called and left a message while I was getting Tammy with this thing, and he said that he’d kill me if he found out I was behind these computer things.

So, I talked to Andy later and told him and his friend, Melanie, that if I had any idea that this thing would freak them out, I’d never have used it on them. I told them I was so sorry and would never have guessed in a million years that it’d scare them. I told Andy how shocked I was he didn’t realize it was me giving him what he wanted while testing out a new program. He said I better feed him for this when he comes over tomorrow night, but that yes, he did ask for this. Yeah, food is another one of his loves. He says he still eats a few bites a day, but I doubt that. I think he’s always got food in his face.

Anyway, I only kept Tammy on for a few minutes and spilled the beans on her in the end. I figured it’d be best not to leave her hanging and wondering about it for too long, but again, how come she didn’t figure me out? These people are so slow! I said I was a friend of Marks, mentioned the pipe and cancer thing, then when it came time to break the news to her, I typed in how they weren’t gonna put her in bucks for $400 jail (what I accidentally said to Tracy when she said she was worried about going to jail for ripping someone off). Something very obvious. She said, “Very funny. You scared the shit out of me. It’s 11:30 here.” Then I told her about the program, gave her and the girls my love, then we hung up.

Where was this thing in the late 80s - early 90s? I’d have had so much fun with it.

Just one more year. One more year! God, I’m so fucking sick of not being able to concentrate while at the computer due to the constant distractions. In the daytime, it’s the city noise. At night, it’s the animals. When we move, my computer’s not going in the same room as the animals are in. And what is it with these dogs? This is the second night in a row that they’ve gone on a 9:15 barking spree and it’s pissing me off. It’s dark. It’s been dark. Those dogs should be quiet. I went out to see if I could hear what might be stirring them up, but who knows? I think it’s just that they feel neglected. I thought I smelled cigarette smoke coming from the freeloaders when I went to the side of the house, but as of yet, I haven’t heard anything from over there. I’m sure the dogs just want attention, and I’m sorry these dogs are so abused and lonely, but I just wish they’d shut the fuck up!

SUNDAY, AUGUST 2, 1998
Today my nephew Larry would’ve been 18 years old if God hadn’t have taken his life. God, you killed the wrong Larry. If you had to kill a Larry O, God, why did it have to be little Larry?

SATURDAY, AUGUST 1, 1998
I think I accidentally found my folks online. As I was in getting my horoscope, I thought of different screen names the bitch could be using for them. I’m just the naturally curious type. On a whim, I typed in a variation of her old screen name that she ditched, then typed, “Nice screen name,” sent it, and it actually went through. There are millions of AOL users, so it could be anyone, anywhere, but who knows? She can’t respond since I blocked her out of my list, but that’s mighty fine with me.

Later…

Tom got up last night around midnight and sure enough, he didn’t want to screw today. I knew he wouldn’t, either. See, I’ve noticed a pattern in him. If for some reason I can’t screw one day, he can’t screw the next day. I was also mid-cycle yesterday and that old subconscious fear no doubt kicked in. He claims we’ll screw later, but my heart still isn’t in the idea. I don’t give a shit at this point how the sex turns out, but I just have no desire to do it in the first place. I guess I better at least put up with it if it’s really pleasing the man I love, cuz the man I love, says he wants more sex.

Tom fixed the leaky faucet in the tub, the cabinet in the kitchen that was falling off its hinge, and the screen door in back that just ripped off its hinge again. Like I said, every fucking faucet leaks in this old dump and every door is either crooked, won’t close all the way, or is partly off its hinge.

At least one of us can fix these things.

Last night I popped back up to nearly 120 pounds. I wasn’t the least bit surprised, but I sure felt uncomfortable. I had that heavy, bloated feeling and felt like a balloon fixing to burst, so I took a water pill. I woke up today at 115 right on the nose. Wow, huh?! It won’t last long, I’m sure. I’m sure it’ll be a very occasional thing - me hitting down at 115. This face, though! This fucking face and neck! Will it ever shrink? My face and neck have never been this swollen. Even when I was in the 140s years ago my face and neck weren’t this big. I feel like I’d have to get down to 90 pounds before it’d shrink back to normal size, but that’s just not gonna happen. Maybe when I’m old and dying or if I get some horrible disease, but I’m virtually positive I’ll never be under 110 pounds again. Probably not even under the 115 pounds I awoke at. I’d have to take water pills every day of my life in order to lose a lot more weight and keep it off and that’s not gonna happen either.

Tom was online and downloaded a couple of word processors for me to check out. I haven’t yet, but we did check out some other programs he downloaded. One was this really cool thing that lets you set up to change your wallpaper and screensaver, either in order or randomly. You can have it change every second, every several minutes, or every day, week, month, etc. The thing was great, but it was fucking shareware and limited in its functions. You could only use 3 wallpapers and 3 screensavers. That sucks! So Tom’s gonna see if he can make a program to do more than that.

The other was this so-so thing that adds effects to your screensaver pictures. It flips them, twirls them, and stuff like that.

To my utter amazement and satisfaction, Larry hasn’t called. Great, but does this mean he never read the letter and is returning it to me? I sure hope not. I really hope he read the letter and felt I wasn’t worth calling about it. I want to be the one to have the last word this time and to have him decide to drop it at that. He doesn’t have to agree with a damn thing I said in the letter, but I just hope he read it and will drop it, but if he does call, it’s his dime. I’m not gonna return his call. I have nothing more to say. So, in the end, whether he reads the letter, returns it to me, or calls me - he’s a done deal as far as I’ll always be concerned.

I have no intention of contacting my parents again in any way, but it’s sort of funny in a way what with the message I sent them. I wish I could be there to see the look on their faces when they saw I had found them. How utterly stupid, though! If I were gonna change screen names to avoid someone (although I don’t know why they didn’t just block me out) I’d really change it. Not just use a variation of a name.

Tom said all I have to do to see if a screen name exists is to use the box that searches for members currently online. I don’t know about that, cuz out of curiosity I tried their old screen name, and that came back saying that member wasn’t currently signed on, just like the second screen name did. Then I just started randomly hitting anything and was told these members weren’t currently signed on. I’ll have to ask Tom about it when he gets up and see what he thinks.

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Last updated June 20, 2024