August 1999 in 1990s

  • May 29, 2024, 11:04 p.m.
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TUESDAY, AUGUST 31, 1999
Tom’s gone to an award meeting at a place where they’re gonna be giving out stuff to their top employees. I couldn’t go, though. I guess they don’t allow employees to take anyone they know.

Believe it or not, I’m still on a schedule. Even an hour and a half behind the usual 7:30 I’ve been getting up (sometimes 8:30). The two nights before last, I hadn’t slept well at all. Nothing woke me up, but I kept waking up on my own, either to pee or just because, so I was getting kind of tired. I was sleeping erratically, too. Two nights ago I sleep from around midnight to 5:30, then for about a half-hour at 8:30, then I ended up taking a two-hour nap from 5 PM-7 PM, so I thought I’d screw up my schedule for sure by needing to catch up if I could sleep straight through which I needed and hoped to do. Well, last night, I still managed to crash at around midnight, thanks to the Melatonin, and I only woke once, fell right back asleep, then got up for good at 6:00. Technically, I won’t need to be on a schedule for the next week or so, but I want to keep it going as long as I can. I’m curious to see how long I can keep it up. I also don’t feel comfortable sleeping during more of the hours when that Ranchero could come blasting in, like today, for example. That pickup hasn’t been there all night and all day so far, which means the Ranchero’s more likely to come banging in sometime in the afternoon or evening.

I was astonished to see that next door recycled shit yesterday. They were always too lazy to in the past.

We went by three schools that were just letting out yesterday (I can’t believe they start school so early out here!) and I swear to God, not one kid was white. Everywhere I look, it’s mostly Mexicans, then blacks, then white. What is this world coming to? Tom says whites are still the vast majority, but you could’ve fooled me. I feel like they’re running us out and that we’re gonna be totally overrun with non-whites before too long. It’s both sad and scary.

They’re still trashing our yard. And theirs, too. They’re not necessarily deliberately throwing their beer cans and juice cartons in our yard, but they leave them littered all over their yard, so when we have dust storms, the wind carries their shit over here. They’re such filthy shits! Total trash. I mean, they really are filthy pigs! If I’d heard someone say that without having firsthand experience with them and seeing how they live with my own eyes and ears, I’d be like - how can you say something so mean! But it’s true. It’s so true that they really are filthy, lazy, dirty, sloppy, messy, stupid, rude, sick, inconsiderate, scummy, lying little waste products!

Yeah, well, we’re outa here in just 27 days or a little less, you shitfucks! The apartment is gonna be much worse, though, cuz the noise there will be more consistent, since next door does give me a few days of peace here and there, believe it or not, but at least we’ll be out of here and I can get all my mail out.

Can’t wait for Ciara! At least I know I’ll be awake when she comes.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 29, 1999
As far as I know, the weekend’s been quiet. I try to keep the stereo on in the bedroom when I’m in there and in the living room when I’m in there like I am now.

The cream pickup returned some time last night or today. It’s been out front all day and doesn’t look like it’s moved. Like I said, the trips in and out have cut way down. I’m sure they’ll go in spurts. It’s at a lull right now.

The gold car came and went today, which neither of us heard, and also a shiny, silver pickup.

Friday night I had a moment’s worry for a while there, when I looked out and saw that along with the red car, a white car was out front, too. I hadn’t seen one vehicle all day till I saw these two at 7:00, and I was like, oh no. That’s that white car that banged in and out back when we talked with them. Now it’s gonna live here all weekend and be banging in and out. Well, I was only partially right, thank God. I never heard music, and it didn’t stay there all weekend like before (if it was even the same car) but it did stay overnight Friday night.

So, they didn’t wake me up, but I sure did wake up a zillion times last night, and I get so sick of this 4-hour shit! I have periods where for many nights in a row I wake up just 4 hours after I went to bed and it takes me an hour to get back to sleep.

Tom trimmed the palm trees in back and is napping now till I have to get him up for work.

We talked and lay together in bed reading, but I was right; he is taking to his advantage the fact that we don’t have to have sex regularly. He could’ve made time for it over the weekend, but fortunately, he didn’t bother me with it just like I figured would be the case. I only say “fortunately” cuz I need a break from the same old same old.

He kept his word and tried to order Sekarina, but she’s sold out, so Ciara’s coming instead! She should be here by the 2nd. She’s coming by air instead of ground. I still think I may be able to get Sekarina in the future, though, or else I’d think her item number response would’ve said, “no longer available” instead of “sold out.” Either that or be assigned to a new doll (the item number). Fortunately, they keep them around for a while cuz there are others out there like me who can’t just get something the instant they see it.

I’m hoping to get Sekarina and Chyna when we leave here, then when we get into the new house, I’ll try for those two Indian dolls from Ashton-Drake and a doll from the mall. I might buy a doll kit with any birthday/Christmas money I may get.

We had a huge storm during the late afternoon a couple of days ago that knocked the satellite signal out. I thought the thunder was a stereo at first, cuz these car stereos sound exactly like thunder. But it didn’t leak! How nice of God to sit back and watch us struggle with this leak and not be able to fix it till we get all the way up to right before we move.

Still can’t believe we got such a high offer for this house. Like Tom says, it’s like we were paid to live here.

Mary offered to take the animals if need be, which was very nice of her. Most people would never offer to do something like that.

Earlier, when Tom and I were reading, certain emotions the girl in my book was experiencing were oh so familiar to me that it brought tears of bad memories to my eyes. Tom, being the patient, loving, supportive, caring, understanding guy that he is, listened to me as I told him how I could remember being excited about things that shouldn’t be the biggest thing a 17-year-old gets excited about, like when Art would come to visit me at Valleyhead (if he wasn’t snowbound). It also went the other way around where I was bummed out about things no 17-year-old should have to be concerned with. I remember the feelings of being trapped, helpless, and having no control all too well.

Tom was such a good listener, and as I told him, he’s the most non-selfish person I’ve ever known. The only thing he’s ever considered himself more so than me (which he didn’t deny) was when it came to having a kid.

Saturday’s trip was so nice with the AC! We looked at a few pieces of land, and like I told him, the first 10-acre lot we looked at is ours! I just know it. I had an instant, strong vibe about it that said, “We’re home.” It was so beautiful, but I’m not gonna really get into being descriptive about it till my vibe is proven right and we actually buy the land. The only catch is that if we buy 10 acres, we may have to sell about 3 acres or so if the property taxes get way over our heads. Tom said that even so, there should still be plenty of room for them too, and they shouldn’t bother us. Like I said, God will find a way to bring noise to me anywhere I go, but there’s no way it could be as noisy there as it can get here. Not even close.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 27, 1999
I have both wonderful and shocking news!

First, I went and got my retainers. Yes, they are way better than braces, although trying to talk with these things is a nightmare. Melanie said that her first week with the retainers was like - oh God! But then she got used to them. True, cuz when you hear her talk, you’d never know she had anything in her mouth. It’s also hard to drink with these things. The bottom ones make swallowing hard and the top ones make talking hard. I was a little sore at first, and still am, but I don’t have any irritation like I did with the braces.

The designs aren’t as nice as I hoped they’d be. The tie-dye colors aren’t as nice as I thought they’d be, and the pink glitter’s not as shiny as I thought it’d be. I should’ve gotten the musical notes and the ants. Yes, you heard right. I did say ants. They just looked so cool and so lifelike. At least I’m getting used to how they feel in my mouth. They’re nothing compared to braces. If having braces is like having your appendix burst, having retainers is like getting an ear canal cleaned.

Melanie sure does look much better with makeup. Yesterday she had pretty much no makeup on and she looked almost plain.

I told her I tried to get my hair into two French braids like she had hers, but couldn’t do it. I can only do one. She explained how she did it, which was how I tried to do it, but I guess I have to practice some more.

Unfortunately, I can’t have either gum or Tic-Tacs with the retainers. Not so much because they stick, but because it’s awfully awkward to chew gum with the way the retainers stick to the roof of your mouth. I don’t really like the idea of having mints or things like that that I can’t feel in my mouth when I wear these things. I don’t have to go back to see Mel and have my fillings done till September 27th, the same day we have to be out of here. Yes, we got an incredible, unbelievable, mind-boggling offer of $83,500!

First, the Ranchero shocked the shit out of me by coming and going quietly last night at around 10:00. It was too dark to see if the driver was her or him, but I still couldn’t believe it. You know how it is - when you’re moving they quiet down, but when you don’t know when you’re moving and aren’t moving they’re noisy. I’m not saying that I won’t hear from them during our last month here, cuz I know much better than that. Also, the cream pickup wasn’t around when the Ranchero was here. That’s how it usually works. The cream pick-up was here late in the afternoon, but it’s been gone ever since. The red car was in and out yesterday, too.

At around 8:00 this morning, earlier than I’ve ever seen it here, I saw the blue pickup take off. Whether or not it lives here now and stood overnight, beats me.

Tom said he read statistics that said that this area has the least amount of kids. I’m surprised. You’d think God would put me where they were most plentiful. Then again, most of the houses we can see from ours have no kids, and of course, the two that do have to be right next to us (next door and next to next door). Tom said that when he was doing the roof, he discovered an oriental family with tons of little kids two houses down, which is like three houses down with W. Weldon in the way, towards the other side of us.

We received the whole $1000 back that we had given Leona.

This has got to be the longest time I haven’t heard from Andy. We’re talking two weeks now. I didn’t say anything about his little phone call the first day the house was listed (I’ll mention that in his mail), but I called last night to tell him of the offer we got and that the house is off the market, so he can call directly anytime now. I haven’t heard from him, and believe me, if I don’t hear from him, I’m not leaving any more messages. I don’t know if he went and dumped me knowing I would anyway, or if he’s busy as all hell, or what, but if he did dump me, then I guess that’s good. That way I won’t feel as guilty about dumping him. Nonetheless, I don’t want him to call me if he doesn’t want to while we’re still here. I don’t want to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.

I can’t believe I’ve been on a schedule for nearly two weeks!

Later…

Tom just left after coming home to eat, gather up the loan papers, have me type a quick note to enclose, and look at the property listings he picked up this morning. He’s gone to drop the loan papers off now and pick up my meds.

The mountain house is still for sale, and the ad we liked best was for a 10-acre secluded corner lot that’s rigged with utilities. He’s gonna go back tomorrow to see about buying that, then he’s gonna contact Steven who’s gonna bring the contractor in the next day.

Someone’s gonna come within the next ten days to do a home inspection in this house. It looks like we are gonna dodge fencing the pool, after all. Great!

If this deal goes through - and it better - I’ll be able to get Chyna too, and have her, Sekarina, Pine Leaf, Sacajawea, Ciara, and whatever I get at the doll store I got Bailey at. I just hope the Indian dolls and the ones from the shopping channel will still be available. I can’t wait for them and to return to the store I got Bailey at!

After just one week and two showings, someone wants this house! It is the couple who last looked at it to be buying it and we were just so shocked to learn that they put $23,000 down already! Also, it’s so weird how they barely looked at the house. They never went into any closets or anything. I really think they’re gonna rent it. I hope so. They seem way too nice to live here, but if they do, maybe they’ll be able to tolerate next door’s shit. Whatever happens, it’s not our problem or responsibility.

The catch, though, is that there’s a very good chance that we will have to be in an apartment for about a month, but fine. Anywhere but here next to these freeloaders! We’re gonna sneak the animals in, cuz it’d take them at least a month as it is to evict us, so let them evict us if they catch us with them.

I’m also excited that I can finally send my mail out in a month!

I wonder - was God having next door’s shit dumped on us as our compensation for getting such a big offer on the house and being able to get the stuff on the list for the new house, the computer stuff he wants, and an extra doll for me, too?

Poor Tom. He’s had just a few hours of sleep for many days now, but now he can finally catch up. He just went into the bedroom, and when I’m ready for bed, he’ll move to the couch. I have his stereo on out in the living room that’s even more powerful than mine, so I’ll be less apt to hear the Ranchero just as soon as it’s back to its old shit, but I don’t care! We’re out of here in just one month! As long as they don’t steal my sleep. They haven’t yet, but you never know what to expect on weekends. Anything can happen anytime, but weekends are worse, cuz it ups the chances of anyone banging by.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 26, 1999
I was too bummed out to write for a while there, but now I’m in a good frame of mind to write.

Let me go in order of how the events unfolded.

First, at Osco, before coming home to listen to the cunt in the Ranchero, we got an electric toothbrush. It’s great. Melanie recommended it, saying it helps vibrate plaque and tartar off. Well, it sure does remind you of being in a dentist’s office with the way it vibrates. The cool thing about it is that we can both use it. It’s got separate brushes you attach to it, with colored rings to know which brush is whose. Naturally, he’s blue and I’m pink.

The best thing I got there, although that toothbrush sure was a fine investment to help kick this cavity crisis once and for all, was a 16” doll that was only $15. I got a lot of doll for just $15, too. She’s my cheapest one too, next to my first one which I stole while at the Vista. It’s hard to believe I have other dolls about her size, give or take an inch or two, that aren’t as nicely dressed and cost around $80 like Sunshine and Lollipops.

She didn’t come with a name, but I’m sure she had one that was on the box that Osco took her out of before setting her on a shelf, so I named her Ashley, and I also renamed my first no-name doll Katie, since Mystery is my nickname, and since I’ll probably end up with several no-names over the years.

When I first walked towards the shelf I noticed the other doll they had first which was a couple of inches bigger, thinking, oh good. I can finally have a black doll. However, her eyes looked totally phony up close, although her hair and her mint green dress were nice enough. She was $25.

Ashley has green eyes and long brown hair which was in two braids. I took it down, though, and brushed it out. Amazingly, she didn’t have anything on her head. No hats, bonnets, feathers, flowers, anything. Although her imitation leather shoes and purse are an ugly shade of dark green, her outfit really is nice. She has white stockings, and a pine green velvet dress with a white pinafore (blue, green, and white really are the most common doll colors!). At least I think it’s called a pinafore. It’s a white, lace-trimmed apron-like thing with straps that go over the shoulders. There’s lace that puffs out at the shoulders, as well as at the hem of the pinafore and at the sleeves of the green velvet dress. The velvet feels nice. I put my heart necklace on her and she looks quite dazzling for such a small cheap doll. She looks like she could be on her way to a fancy Christmas party. She needed some work, though. I polished her nails dark purple to give her hands definition and make it look like she had barely visible nails. I also glued the latch on her purse that tore off and wiped some dark smudges off her face. What’s weird, though, is that she has glued on and painted upper lashes. Usually, it’s one or the other and not both.

I put Bailey, Maria, and Ashley in a big box, so I’ll have just four doll boxes and one loose doll (Sekarina) when we move.

Fortunately, the cream pickup did come back yesterday, as did the red car. The red car didn’t stay there all night, though. I also saw a red pickup over there I’ve never seen before, but the Ranchero took yesterday off, thank God.

Tom suggested I don’t go skinny dipping even at night cuz he’s caught next door peering over the wall many times. Many times? Not that I don’t believe it, but I’ve only caught them looking over once and it was too dark to see for sure who it was. He said he’s seen both kids and adults looking over and he says it’s cuz they’re nosy and perverted, wanting to see me naked in the pool, but I also think it’s cuz they’re looking to see what they can steal. Amazingly, though, they haven’t stolen anything yet (they’d sure get a good laugh and be disappointed with all this flab and all these craters!).

Tom got the AC fixed in the car yesterday! It’ll be so nice not to have to sweat my way to Melanie’s today! I just hope God lets the car be OK till at least after we’re moved and are a little bit settled.

While he was having the AC fixed, he walked to the mall to get a 5-year battery for this really beautiful Gucci watch Dureen gave me, which he said the guy admired like crazy. He panicked when it came time to pay for the AC repair cuz he didn’t have his credit card. It turns out, though, that he left it at the jewelry store. He also said the AC people were so nice, cuz they told him he could take the car, get the card, then come back and pay them, but it turned out he didn’t have to. That’s cuz he had the account number on the receipt from the watch battery.

Later…

Yesterday Tom called and left a message with Steven. Instead of him calling back, he sent a couple with a male realtor to look at the house without even calling first, but at least someone was looking. They were a white, middle-aged couple who seemed very nice. The woman, who resembled Norah a little, seemed easy-going, and the guy was very complimentary towards the house. I couldn’t imagine any woman, though, wanting this house.

So, Steven did end up calling later on, but not until after he was asleep. He was so dead to the world that he didn’t hear the phone, so he contacted him this morning from work or Mary’s house. According to Steve, although we agreed not to get our hopes up, he’s got an offer on the house for us. We should’ve told Steven up front what our limit as far as offers go is so that he wouldn’t waste anyone’s time with something like a $50,000 offer.

We both think it’s the couple that came to see it yesterday since the fem didn’t seem interested and since it’s been a week since he’s seen the place. If the offer’s good and from the couple that was here yesterday - great. I want to get out of here. However, I feel a little bad for them. They seem too nice to be living next to a pack of wild freeloaders.

After he gets done taking care of our daughter, he’s gonna finish filling out the loan stuff in between her appointments and mine and do it at Mel’s if he has to, then we’re gonna drop them off. As soon as we get in, he’s gonna call Steven and he’s gonna come over and present the offer to us. Do I have any vibes? Not really. All I can say is that the numbers 71, 72, and 76 come to mind, but I don’t know if that’s connected with this offer or not. It may not even have to do with the house at all.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1999
Tom and I had a pleasant talk after I last wrote, and here’s what we agreed to do. He’s hopefully getting the car AC fixed right now, and then he’s gonna call Steven when he gets in to get the price slashed and the sign out, which I can’t wait to show off to the freeloaders like I was supposed to last week. If that still doesn’t work, then we’ll just take whatever we can get for this house, and settle if that means getting out of here. We’ll just grab a ready-made 3-bedroom off of some manufactured home dealer’s lot, forget buying new furniture, dolls, etc., and just get the fuck out of here before I end up killing these freeloaders. Life is nothing but one big settlement and not getting what you want anyway, and he agrees with me, so fuck buying new stuff for the new house. We’ll just take what we’ve got here for furniture and use that in the new house, as dumpy as most of it is. I just can’t stay here the many more months it’d take to sell this house at a high enough price to get furniture and dolls. Tom offered to buy me all the dolls I want right now if that’s the key to making me feel like I have some say over my life, but I’m not a selfish off-brand. I wouldn’t just hog the money like that which we need for moving and not let him have any fun, either. If he can’t get stuff, neither can I. The number one thing is getting the fuck out of here and if the price I have to pay for doing that means giving up the material things I want, so be it.

He says next door’s not running my life, they’re disrupting it, but I’m sorry, they’re about as close to running it as they can get. Because of them, I have to sleep with music on and have music on when I’m awake that I don’t necessarily want on. They’ve stolen my peace and they might’ve stolen our dream home and that furniture and doll list too, although I will be getting Sekarina this weekend as far as I know unless he’s full of shit and doesn’t order her like he didn’t order the CDs.

I’m using my old portable CD player to sleep with that Steve gave me ten years ago, since my stereo stalls from time to time. He offered to get a new stereo for me or that CD changer. That’s nice of him, but for now, I’ll just use my old box and see what happens. I’d prefer to get most of the stuff we want after we move, but like I said, it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen if this house won’t hurry up and sell at a decent price. We can’t even begin to sell something no one will come look at.

Again, as we both agreed, life’s not what we want, so I’m seriously considering quitting this story-writing I’ve been doing. Why should I bother? I won’t be allowed to do anything I want with it, so why should I make a fool of myself and waste my time trying to be successful with it while God’s at my side doing everything he can to see that I fail?

Later…

The cream pickup hasn’t been here all day. An extremely bad sign. One saying that the ranchero will definitely be here every day sometime between 2:30-7:00, so I’ll be forced to choose between listening to its music or mine. Naturally, I’d rather listen to my own if I’m gonna be forced to listen to music.

I wish Tom would hurry up and get home so he can call Steven.

I saw those figurines at Osco yesterday and decided they just weren’t that impressive the second time around, so I didn’t get any. They just didn’t have enough color. They had other figurines I had seen before that were nice, but again, the colors were dull.

I did get a birthday card for his mom.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 24, 1999
It happened again. AAA Taxi came next door, although this time it was a white guy who pulled into the driveway. He got out, went to the house, came back, then left without taking anyone with him. Weird.

The furniture truck didn’t spend the night there last night, and the Ranchero is still taking a break, thank God!

I can’t believe I’ve kept a schedule for over a week now. In the past, when I couldn’t fall asleep till later and would want to go to sleep earlier the next night, I couldn’t. However, last night I fell asleep two hours earlier like I had hoped to. If it turns out I can really keep a schedule, then the only thing about motherhood I couldn’t have handled would be the kid itself, besides carrying it and having it. That’d be nice to know, but I still want to keep it just us two, and I know God will see to it that although I may not get 98% of my wishes, I will get this one. It’s a done deal. Something I know I don’t even have to pray for. Regardless of what a woman wants/doesn’t want, she can count on her intuition to know these things.

Later…

Here I was worried about kids coming in and trashing the place when what I really have to worry about is someone - anyone - coming to see the house in the first place! I do have a show vibe for today, though, so I changed the animals and tidied up really well.

Today my teeth are a little sore. I guess it took a while for all the pressure to catch up to them. Also, I’d say that the most cursed tooth on the bottom which was the furthest off from being straight, has started to shift back slightly. I hope there won’t be a problem fitting the retainer, but I guess they should know what they’re doing. I guess that if they thought my teeth shouldn’t be free of anything for a few days, then they wouldn’t be. It’s just that Kathy told me something that made me wonder how they could let the teeth be free for a few days. Maybe Kathy was exaggerating just so I’d be faithful with using the retainer, but she told me that if I took it out upon waking up and left it out all day, it could be a very tight fit that night when I went to put the retainer in. If that’s all it takes, then why are they letting me go for three days with nothing? Maybe it was different for Kathy, who said her teeth were so bad she had to have braces for four years. How lucky I am, then, to only have had the top for 16 months and the bottom for 8 months.

Later…

I’ll have my company keep it down, my ass! Yeah, the fucking Ranchero just blasted in. It was that kid with her two kids, not the cock. I knew, though, that they were lying through their teeth when they told the cops they’d have their company keep it down. They lie about everything, the fucking lazy, rude, selfish, sick, fucks. Ooooooooh, I want to kill them sooooo bad!!! Fucking, motherfucking freeloaders, I hate you all!!!

Well, since Tom can’t stick to doing anything we agree to do and we can’t call that non-emergency number, I’ll just keep my headphones on for the rest of the day, cuz I know it’s gonna bang in and out and in and out. Hey, didn’t I just say that the peace won’t last? I know how these fuckers operate. They may be quiet for a few days, then it’s right back to the same old shit. They just don’t care and they’re just gonna do what they want and what they want only. They think they own the world.

Why must I always pay for every little good thing I get in life? Why?! I was out enjoying myself with Tom and I got a $15 doll, an electric toothbrush for us both, and some barbecued ribs, and now God just has to compensate me with next door’s shit. He just has to! He just can’t let assholes like this leave me the fuck alone! I’m tired of him allowing people to fuck with me like this when I never did a damn thing to them to deserve it in the first place.

Later…

I told Tom I was going to call that number, cuz I was just too pissed off and wasn’t about to take this for another God knows how many more months. To make matters even worse, my stereo had to stall out on me again. It’s working now, but lately, it’s been hit or miss with the fucking thing. It’s like something up there is saying, “I want you to listen to their music! You must!” Well, why must I? Huh? Is it really that important to God that I be forced to listen to neighbor’s noise, not be allowed the right to ignore them, and have to sleep with music on the way I do and hope it drowns theirs out? Is it really fair? Is it really what I deserve? Why is God so hateful, controlling, and vengeful? I just want to be left alone! Why has that been too much to ask for since 1992?!

Anyway, when I called the number the woman said she could send a cop out to talk to them, but they could just turn the music back on when they left, so I should file a formal complaint and prosecute. I told her to forget it cuz by then we just may be lucky enough to be out of here. Tom, though, didn’t handle it very well, as usual, making me feel like I did wrong by telling her to forget it. He said he wasn’t trying to blame me for anything, it’s just that I used poor judgment. I guess he thinks I should’ve gone through with it. However, as far as I was concerned these things take too long, anyway, and may not be effective. This is why I told her to forget it. He said that it depends and that not all complaints go to court. Yeah, well, just forget it. I know God would make sure it took a lot longer than it will for us to get out of here, anyway, so what’s the point? He just refuses to help me help myself, so fuck it.

OK, God, you won. And so did your freeloaders. You happy? I’ll just live with whatever they do, and not bother to bitch to Tom if he’s gonna get all stressed out and paranoid. Besides, maybe if I just take it, God will go easier on me when we move. Maybe if I quit trying to fight him on the things he wants dished out to me, not that I could fight, he’ll just lay off me. I also don’t need to be making Tom all nervous, paranoid, and emotional in any way, so I’ll just take it. Maybe we’ll be out of here before the year’s out, and maybe things really will be quieter where we’re going.

Tom’s insisting he’s gonna call Steven tomorrow to tell him we’ve only had one showing, then slash the price next week, and get a for-sale sign, and then contact the mayor, but I know the mayor part of it, city, government, or whoever he says he’ll call is pure bullshit. He doesn’t want to deal with it. Period. And therefore, he’s not gonna do shit about next door. Fine then, but again, I hate it when he says he’s gonna do something he doesn’t do and tells me a whole new plan every week. He’s always got this bullshit story to tell me just to hold me over till we move. That’s what he’s had in mind to do all along - tell me one bullshit story after another and make one excuse after another each time I bitch about next door till we move. Well, I still say that the city is overwhelmed with these kinds of complaints and has other more important things to do, as far as they’re concerned, and that bitching to cities, governments, cops, courts, mayors, etc., won’t do shit.

Meanwhile, I’m tired of my CD player stalling, so I moved the cordless headphones, the freeloaders nearly made me break in my anger and frustration of being forced to live with their noise harassment, into the living room so I can listen to music from the satellite with no commercials (till God ends up being the one to break the headphones). It’s good how the songs overlap each other, but if I want to listen to music without going into the bedroom to use my stereo, I may have to listen to a song I either don’t like or don’t know. I hate being controlled like this! Fucking freeloaders!!!! I’m so fucking sick of them disrupting my life, stressing me out, pissing me off, and coming between my husband and I!

MONDAY, AUGUST 23, 1999
The braces are off!!! My teeth look great. The only thing I don’t like is that uphill climb from right to left on the bottom, and how they’re naturally pretty yellow. I’m gonna get them bleached one of these days, although they charge $500. I think it’ll be worth it, though, as long as it lasts longer than two weeks.

Tisha, the secretary, was joking with me when I first came in saying she heard I wanted to keep my braces.

Charlene’s not working there anymore. There’s a new hygienist there named Kathy. She’s nice, but her hairstyle is pitiful. It’s really short all over except for the sides. She has these long scraggly strands at the sides and it looks quite ridiculous.

She asked if I was excited and I said that I was psyched to finally be swapping in one misery for another, but she said it wasn’t like that. She said retainers were no big deal. That’s not what Mel says. Well, everyone’s different, so we’ll see.

The whole appointment took nearly two hours, and of course, it felt like I was there all day. It’s definitely easier getting braces put on than taken off, but at least you don’t have your mouth on fire for four days afterward. Kathy popped the brackets off, which didn’t tickle. It only took a couple of minutes to get them off, and most of them popped right off, but a couple were a little stubborn. After that, she had to drill and scrape like hell for what seemed like forever. I got my face splattered with water and mist, I choked on saliva and swallowed wrong a few times, I got my gums poked and bloodied, and the bonding reeked like hell as she drilled it off. It looked like I was exhaling smoke and it even smelled smoky. When she was scaling the cement at some points, it sent cold shivers through me.

After she polished me up and took x-rays, it was into Mel’s room where she took impressions. I didn’t realize I’d have to have that done again, but as she said, they couldn’t fit the retainers to my old ones. She did a better job than Anne did and I didn’t feel like I was gonna gag this time.

Then the doc came in, checked me over, and man, he just does not like to answer questions! I asked how many cavities I had and it took him forever to tell me I had three up top and a few downstairs that were just starting that they’re gonna keep a watch on (but I know this means I’ll have to have them filled at some point).

I asked him if it were common to have so many cavities with braces and he said it varies, but that yes, it’ll be much easier to clean my teeth with the braces off. Mel says she hasn’t had a cavity since she was ten years old. Lucky her!

Mel gave me my new toothbrush, a little tube of toothpaste, and some floss. It’s so much easier to floss my teeth now that they’re straight. It’s so nice to have smooth teeth and not have to deal with wax and knobs poking and irritating me. My teeth are smoother compared to what they were when I had brackets, although the surface of my teeth is still a bit coarse and seems to have been stripped of their enamel cuz of all the filing they had to do. I’m surprised I’m not sore due to all the pulling she had to do to pop the brackets.

Mel showed me a little photo album of the different designs you can get for retainers. I was shocked at all the choices. They even had ants! I picked pink glitter for the top and a tie-dye design for the bottom. They had musical notes I almost got, and they had butterflies and other cute things. Mel said I could probably get mice or rats put on, but because I wanted the glitter, which would’ve covered it, I didn’t get that. I like bright, shiny, and colorful things. What I didn’t realize was that they don’t just give you retainers the day the braces come off. It takes a few days to make them, so we’re gonna go get them Thursday. Poor Tom has to take his mother to two appointments that same day. I hate it when she gets in the way of our plans, but he says it’ll be no problem. I hope so, cuz I really get tired of feeling like she’s our daughter more than our mother/mother-in-law. One of the many reasons I don’t want a child is so I can be free of the restrictions/responsibilities it’d bring. We need time to take care of our own affairs too, and I just wish more family members would pitch in and do their fair share of taking care of her. Everything’s gotta be on Tom or Mary. Nonetheless, I’m gonna enjoy these few days of having absolutely nothing in my mouth.

He’s got a lot to do this week. Tomorrow he has to take the car in for the AC to be fixed and hopefully they’ll fix it without breaking something else along the way and charging a fortune, but either way, something else will break on that car soon enough. We’re totally cursed with cars.

Wednesday we may go out to get me those barbecued spareribs I miss so much, Ma’s final birthday card (I hope), an electric toothbrush, which Mel recommends for vibrating plaque/tartar off, and whatever else we may need.

Thursday he’s gotta deal with three appointments, and I forgot which day he said he was gonna call Steven, but we’ve got to get this house discounted or else we’ll never get out of here. We still may have a hell of a time even with a discount and I really think I’ll be here to turn 34.

As I told Tom, I’m thankful for all his support throughout the braces and for his taking the time to take me to the appointments.

I’m looking forward to ordering Sekarina this weekend (hopefully), and I’ve suggested he talk to someone live so he can tell them that twice they’ve said we’d receive dolls in ten days, which was total BS, and see what he can do to ensure that they get here on time.

Later…

I went for a quick dip in the pool at dusk after the bees turned in for the night. I was amazed at how quiet it was. I’m amazed at how quiet it’s been for the last few days, actually, and if the freeloaders could be like they have been for the last few days while we’re still here, things would be fine. I know better, though.

Typical poor, lazy freeloaders - get this: instead of having any blinds, shades, curtains, or anything like that in their living room window, guess what they’ve got hanging there? A floral sheet or towel. It might be an old blanket, but I’d say it’s a sheet.

Also, not that I’m complaining, since they weren’t hurting anything, but just to prove my point about when I said that they think they own this neighborhood - last night at 11:00, the red car drove over a corner of our yard in order to get by the pickup and into their driveway. Well, there’s nothing but good old desert dirt on that corner, so fine, as long as they keep their trash to themselves. For a while now, they have, cuz when they do hang out front, it’s been on the street. But they just totally think they own this neighborhood and can do any fucking thing they want. They think they can drive in people’s yards, put the garbage can where they want, blast music, etc. I still can’t believe, though, that I haven’t seen anyone or heard any music since last Thursday. They’re definitely night people most of the time since the pickup doesn’t move till sundown, but even then, it’s not going in and out a million times like it used to. Well, I’m just gonna enjoy the peace cuz it won’t last.

Got a ton of jokes from Kim. Like 22 messages from her. Most of them were good and I forwarded the ones I liked best to Tom and Evie.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 22, 1999
I’m still managing to get up at 7:30 with the alarm. A couple of nights ago, I started taking Melatonin again. That natural substance that’s supposed to help with sleep. I learned that just because the Nicorette didn’t work the first time, didn’t mean it wouldn’t work the second time. So, I’m applying that lesson to the Melatonin. It worked at first, but then it seemed useless the last time I used it. Well, we’ll see how long it’s helpful to me this time around.

I’m surprised how mellow next door’s been (that I know of) this weekend. I expected them to loiter out front, as usual, but they didn’t. I also didn’t see any vehicles visiting last night, but I was out by 10:00, rather early for a pack of wild freeloaders.

My theory has been right so far - the return of the cream pickup has lessened the Ranchero’s visits. I think this is because the fat tub of shit’s been around more, and she seems to be half and half. Meaning, half the time she doesn’t give a fuck about loud music, but the other half, she wonders if it would be smart to risk eviction. And I have to agree with Tom - I think yes, they are rude to anyone in general, but I also think they like to go one-on-one like they have with me. I think some of their shit is aimed at me, and some they’d do anyway regardless of who was around and who did/didn’t complain.

Last night they took a break, but the two or three nights before that I heard a few loud, deliberate door slams coming from the carport. I’m almost certain this was done by fatty, too. This, for example, had to have been aimed at me. Well, it won’t work as far as waking me up goes. The blacks already tried that when that bitch and her boy toy would slam doors real loud over and over and over.

I haven’t seen the silver car come or go and I really think that’s broken too, along with the van. But now we have 4 vehicles living there - the silver car, the van, the furniture truck, and the cream pickup (I hope the pickup stays). Like I said, why doesn’t she just have everyone she knows move in? Why not have the blue pickup move in, too? And the striped van? And the gold car? And everybody?

I like how the pickup has been blocking their driveway. That way the Ranchero can’t pull up in between the houses, even if it is still too loud from the street, anyway. They’re doing this cuz the furniture truck and the pickup together are too long to be in front of just their yard. I’m surprised they had the decency to block their driveway and not the one next to them since their driveway is adjacent to their yard. Ours, though, is a yard away, fortunately. I don’t imagine that they will, but that’s fine if they want to block our driveway, cuz we’ll just have the vehicle that’s blocking it towed.

I can’t believe how much the constant trips in and out have cut down for the most part. There are some days when vehicles go in and out, but I only saw the pickup make one trip yesterday. Deb and some beefy guy with a shag that’s connected to the furniture truck made the trip.

Since fatso likes cops, I’m making a point of putting bullshit accusations on every other page, so that each piece of paper accuses her of doing something like beating us up, vandalizing the house, cussing us out, yelling racial slurs, etc. This way, if she does decide to run to the cops, she can’t show them anything I’ve written that’s true without them seeing these bullshit accusations too, which won’t make her look very good. She may not care, though, but let her show it to the cops. It’s the same thing I say with the blacks, cuz I know the laws. I know they can’t do anything to me for what I’ve written. If I did something to them, that’d be different. Cops act on actions, not words.

Yesterday was absolutely ridiculous - no one came to see the house. No one! And Tom said the weekend would bring more people and Steven said we’d have a lot of showings. Bull fucking shit! I told Tom we’re never gonna get out of here till we take 10 or 20 thousand off the price, and he said that when we do cut the price it’ll sell in a day (yeah, right!). Also, people are more interested in houses that have been discounted, rather than that start off cheaper. If they start off cheaper, it’ll make people think there’s something wrong with the house. He still swears we’ll be out of here in two months, but I don’t know if I trust him. I’ve seen him be off on his timetables way too many times, and overestimate things way too often. He still insists it’s important for us to wait till after next weekend before we slash the price and that having only one person look at the place in four days is normal. Especially in the first four days it’s been listed. Well, we’ll see, but I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be turning 34 in this house. It’s been delayed a few months at a time since last March, so why not keep on delaying it? We can’t make anyone want to buy this house no matter what the price is, and God could see to it that no one wants it if he wanted to. I would hope he wouldn’t do that to us, though, and that he’d take a break from his let’s-stick-Jodi-with-neighbor’s-noise obsession. There’ll still be noise in the new place and I think we’ve been here long enough and have worked hard enough to move. We deserve to move on now!

As I told Tom, though, the fem wasn’t the least bit impressed. He said no one’s gonna be “impressed.” They gonna say that this will do. Yeah, that makes sense, since this certainly is no impressive house.

I made a point of mentioning several times to Tom how good it is to know I can go weeks in between sex without getting irritated. Why? So he’ll use that to his advantage which would also be to my advantage. Although I said we could have sex as often as he wants, and although he says he wants more sex, I know better by his actions. He has a very low sex drive. And so do I. Therefore, telling him we don’t have to worry about going too long and getting me irritated, will lead to his not initiating sex for weeks at a time for some reason or another, and that’ll suit me well, too. It’ll give me a break from the same old, predictable boring shit.

He says he still thinks I can and will conceive naturally. You mean he still believes that shit?! Good, God! I asked him how many years it’d take for him to see that, fortunately, since I do prefer life over a child, I can’t conceive. He said six more. Oh, so he needs over a decade to believe me, huh? I think he’ll be forever in denial. He’s a very arrogant, stubborn guy at times, who’s obsessed with disagreeing with me. When I’m 60, he’ll be telling me I could’ve conceived, but that I just didn’t, which would be a joke cuz people either can and do conceive, or they can’t and don’t conceive. I can’t conceive, I never will, and I’ve never been wrong about that yet, so why should I start? Deep down, though, I don’t think he really believes I’ll conceive someday. I think he just says that so he can disagree with me, but that deep down, he knows I won’t cuz I haven’t yet, and cuz he knows he’s gonna hardly ever cum.

There’s another thing I don’t understand - why hasn’t God inflicted me with female problems? Why did he see to it Tom had a low sex drive? Why did he see to it that he rarely came? These things just don’t fit into someone who’s destined to be forever childless whether or not she wants to be. I know God doesn’t have to do anything to carry out his plans for us, and fate is fate no matter what, but you’d still think he’d have me have to have a hysterectomy, or that Tom wouldn’t be able to get hard at all. The only way Tom’s sexual ways would make sense would be if God did have it in our cards to have a kid, but he just wanted us to wait, and since we know that’s not the case, how do Tom’s ways fit in? I guess it’s a separate issue, although he is how he is just like I am how I am. My low drive and lack of cumming, though, don’t matter and is irrelevant cuz a woman can still screw when she’s not totally in the mood, and she doesn’t need to cum to conceive.

Later…

So far, nothing’s gone on next door since I’ve been up. The furniture truck hasn’t moved, the cream pickup went out once, and the blue pickup visited, and that’s all. The blue pickup parked on the street, too. The cream pickup’s in front of their driveway, the furniture truck’s in front of their yard just behind it, and I guess the blue pickup managed to squeeze in behind that with no trouble.

I just hope Deb sticks around as much as I hate her flabby guts, cuz there’s definitely much less music when she’s here. The house stereo would only be loud when she was out, except for when they had their big bash upon moving in, and the Ranchero basically only comes around when she’s not here. This is why I think that for the most part, Deb would prefer the music to be kept down so there’s no shit between us for her to have to deal with, but then there are some times when she just doesn’t give a fuck and feels the need to rebel every now and then. Just to know you’ve done something you know someone doesn’t like even for just a minute or two, can mean a lot to you if you’re the type of assholes they are.

Tom’s slowly, but surely getting over his cold which I’ve managed to escape catching so far. I was pissed at him earlier for his typical shit - not being able to find stuff cuz he’s gotta be such a disorganized slob. We can’t find our tax returns for ‘97 and ‘98, but he says he’ll find them somewhere. Well, he better or he better get copies or find some other alternative, cuz we need to get the fuck out of here. I can’t wait for the next weekend to hurry up and pass by so we can slash the price on this house! We’re never gonna get out of here in two months at this rate!

I suggested to Tom that we deserve a break what with the delays, setbacks, and shit we’ve had to deal with, and that we should get at least one thing we want that we were gonna get upon moving. Of course, he had to make me wait a week first, but he agreed that we can order one thing next weekend. I don’t know what he’ll get, but I’m getting Sekarina!

I wish I had begun my story years ago, even though I couldn’t write back then like I can now, cuz by now we just may’ve had enough money to have escaped having to deal with a herd of Mormons, only to end up trading them in for blacks and Mexicans, although I’d take those Mormon’s back any day! They didn’t do loud stereos, in houses or cars.

I keep trying to reason with myself about the writing and tell myself I’m kidding myself if I think it can amount to anything, but I can’t help but feel I’m destined to make something of it. I know it’s silly to even think for a minute that I could, even if my writing isn’t too bad. My singing’s not too bad either, and yet I thought I was going to end up doing something with that. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you’re destined to be doing it, I keep trying to remind myself, even if you have the means to do something that you didn’t in the past. Meaning, I didn’t have the know-how, money, or connections to break into the music business, but it’s a little different with writing. Today, I have the essentials for writing, even though that won’t change a damn thing if I’m right about not being destined for any kind of fame, fortune or success, and God not wanting me to do something I choose that’s non-material. Look at Andy’s friend Donna. She can sing just as well as Linda Ronstadt and other famous people out there, yet she still can’t make it in that business (maybe cuz she’s so big?). Well, I’ll just go with the flow, so to speak, and not let what I believe stop me. I’m trying to be more correct about it, of course. Trying to stay away from words like cuz and gonna unless that’s part of how a person talks or it just fits into the story somehow. I also prefer to do shorter chapters than fewer longer ones.

Later…

I can’t stand all these spiders I find every day! I find 3-5 a day and I can’t wait to get out of Spider Kingdom! I was in the bathroom when I felt what I thought was a hair tickling the side of my arm, but when I reached around to take hold of it, it was a spider on its web. Gross! Fortunately, it fell right in the toilet. We can’t bomb cuz God just had to let our AC break when we’ve got enough shit to deal with already, and I don’t know if my animals could take the heat like that. I just wish God would quit letting us get hit with delays and just let us out of here! God, just let us out of here and make true those that say you help those that help themselves.

The blue pickup came back for round two, and I think it’s out there right now for the third time today, but it’s too dark now to say for sure. It’s definitely not the Ranchero. Stick around, you fat tub of shit!

SATURDAY, AUGUST 21, 1999
I hope that furniture truck hurries up and moves. A truck with graffiti on it won’t look very good for prospective buyers.

I was stunned to get all the way up to 9:00 at night without seeing one car come in and without seeing the pickup move. After that, though, I saw the red car and the furniture truck out front and also saw that the pickup had finally been in and out. There was some other vehicle parked in front of the furniture truck after the red car left, but I can’t say what it was. It was too dark to make out.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 20, 1999
Yes! So far so good. Tisha called to confirm my Monday appointment. Can I still have this appointment, though, or come early Monday morning am I gonna receive a call saying there’s a problem? Well, if he plays games with me yet again, I’m out of there.

When the Ranchero came back for the second time, I headed into the bedroom for the remainder of the day with the fan and stereo on. At some point, it left and the red car and the striped van came in. So my guess was right - the Ranchero cock wanted to see its cunt before Deb and Chester arrived. Anyway, after the Ranchero, red car, and the striped van left, the furniture truck and the cream pickup arrived for the night.

Here I was bitching about Deb and Chester being jobless and lazy, but if going back to being home all day means getting this cunt out of that house who’s obviously helping out with the kids while they work (or at least Chester works) and therefore causing the Ranchero’s visits to drop back to 2 days a week instead of 6, then that’s what I wish to hell would happen. I’m hoping to hell the cream pickup is back full-time cuz I have a feeling that if it is, that’ll keep the Ranchero away more often.

What I wonder is - when’s the Ranchero gonna move in, too? Why don’t they just have everyone they know move in? They visit enough to live there.

I’ve taken shit from neighbors since 1992 and I really, really resent God for allowing it to go on like it has year after year. I don’t see what I did to deserve it and there’s no doubt in my mind that something up there is hell-bent on me having to deal with neighbor’s noise. No one happens to accidentally get this unlucky and end up next to noisy people like this 8 straight years in a row. It was definitely meant to be. That’s why, as much as Tom says I’m crazy and dead wrong, I know that even if we move to a so-called secluded spot, God will still find a way to harass me with teenagers and their stereos driving by the nearest road to us, and I still say there’ll be kids and dogs to listen to too, if not nearly as close by and as loud as I’ve heard them be here. It will never end. Never. No matter where I go, God’s got it in for me noise-wise. His 80s theme for me was definitely funny farms that are little more than drug havens and prisons that call themselves residential schools. The 90s theme was the neighbor’s noise. So what will the next decade be? I’m afraid to know the answer, but it won’t be long till I find out. If I’m right about his having it in for me with the noise from here on out, no matter where I go, then the theme of every decade I have left on earth will be noise.

I’m also upset with Tom for being the typical liar that he is. He’s always got an excuse ready for why he has to back out of something we agreed on. I knew he wasn’t going to contact the mayor when he said he was going to, and I know he won’t contact the mayor in the future. I should’ve known that when I said I wanted to call that non-emergency number and have them have to deal with cops showing up at their door every time they blast in and out, that he’d have an excuse as to why we shouldn’t and that I should trust him to get us out of here. Well, I don’t trust him. Not when he lies and makes excuses like he has ever since I’ve known him. How can such a wonderful man be not only such a slob but such a liar and a procrastinator? Why couldn’t he tell me from day one that it’s not his nature to cum, or that he just didn’t want to with me for whatever reason? Why couldn’t he tell me he’d deal with it if it happened, but that he’d rather not have a kid? Why did he say he’d order those CDs when he knew he wasn’t going to? He’s a fucking pathological liar (who has another one of his famous colds that I’m sure I’ll be getting, too)!

He also contradicts himself too much. First he says he’ll contact the mayor if there’s a problem selling the house, but now he says we have to get the contract first before we go calling any cops or mayors.

Also, he said next door was rude to anyone in general and that they don’t even consider me when they do their shit, but then in the next breath he said things were worse cuz I yelled at them. No, things are worse cuz the girlfriend of the cock that drives the Ranchero is staying there alone a lot. Yes, they do like having conflict and enemies, but if they wanted to aim shit at me they could have more car stereos going in and out for longer periods of time and they could blast music from the house. There’s much more they could do than have the Ranchero visit 6 days a week instead of 2.

I don’t know if getting a sign out front would be such a good idea after all, cuz I can’t be so sure like Tom is, that they’d want us to go. Remember, these people love conflict. They live to make enemies. So why would they want us to go when they know the music bothers us? Why risk new neighbors who just might not complain and give them the fight that they totally get off on?

I just feel bad for those kids. Right now they may be all sweet and innocent, but someday they’re gonna grow up to be just like their rude, selfish, sick, scum parents, using race as a crutch. Nobody will like them and the few “friends” they do have will be carbon copies of themselves. They too, will be just as fucked and will cry racism every time they have a problem with someone.

I not only have to hope and pray that the house sells fast and that they let me sleep (especially on Friday and Saturday nights), but that they shut up when people are here checking out the house. I never should’ve wasted my time politely asking them to turn their music down or cussing them out about it. I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere but to vent my steam directly at them which would only be temporary till they shit on me again. I mean, what can I do? Go over there and say, “Look, I know you hate my guts for asking you to turn the music down, however reasonable a request that may be, but if you want us to go, then kindly shut up so we can sell the house, OK?” Yeah, right! And like I said, I’m not so sure they’d be happy to see us go. I don’t think they want us to go.

No wonder I didn’t feel like it was over when the blacks left. Because it wasn’t over. We just switched from blacks to Mexicans being the source of trouble, that’s all.

Later…

That was weird. Some guy just parked his car in front of our house and took Polaroid snapshots of the house across the street and the one next to it. Does that have something to do with our house being for sale? Is it to show what houses are near us?

Later…

Unfortunately, there’s been no calls yet to show the house, and I know yesterday’s fem was not the least bit impressed with this house.

I’m surprised we’re already almost up to 11:00 and the cream pickup hasn’t moved yet. I’m also surprised there have been no sales calls, but I’ll bet you anything the first one of the day will come in the next 15 minutes.

Later…

It’s almost 1:00 and the pickup’s still in place and no phone calls have come. This isn’t good. I sure don’t feel like the house is up for sale with no signs or people looking. I hope Tom’s right about the weekend bringing more people.

Tom just brought up a very good point - that some people who look at this house may not mind loud music coming and going. True. Very true. Well, then I just hope God sends us those that don’t give a damn, or at least keep next door quiet if they do.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 19, 1999
I still set my alarm for 7:30 even though our house isn’t for sale after all. I had to if I want to make my Monday appointment. Of course, there’s still the chance that they won’t make it, but so far, no call’s come to play the rescheduling game.

Tom mowed yesterday and went up into the attic for what was hopefully the last time to bring down bowls, towels, and old bomb cans.

The Ranchero took the night off from visiting yesterday. I doubt the red car, which came and went a few more times that I know of, stayed overnight, but the furniture truck did. So that’s gonna live there now, too?

God, I hate the unpredictability when it comes to next door! They follow some type of pattern or routine for a few days, then it’s anything goes. Anything can happen, any time of day over there. You never know what vehicles you’re going to see and when. You never know what you’re going to hear and when. Although I would think it was unlikely at this hour, the Ranchero, or a car I’ve never seen before, could come blasting in really loud right now. For a while there, it had gone pretty dormant traffic-wise during the daytime, but yesterday was just like the weekend or the evenings usually are. So many cars came and went.

I hope Tom won’t wait till tomorrow and that he’ll call today and find out why our house isn’t for sale when it’s supposed to be.

Later…

I hope that when we move, our AC will be more temperature-sensitive. This AC needs to be turned up as it gets hotter and turned down as it gets cooler. I hope that as the sun comes up in the new place, the thing will run more often on its own, and less often as the sun sets.

Tom just called. He’s planning on stopping at someplace to get a part for the broken car AC, then when he gets home, he’s gonna look online to see if the house is listed. He said he’ll call them today if it’s not. He thinks it is, though, and that it takes time for things to get rolling, even though we don’t have a sign, and that the weekend is gonna be when there are more people out house-hunting.

Well, I finished the prologue and the first chapter of my story. It’s definitely going to take about a year to complete this story if I can at all. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I just feel it’s destined. I’m supposed to be doing this. Yet it makes no sense. Why would God let me be an author? I’m not destined to be rich, famous, or successful. As I learned, just because I was attracted to women didn’t mean God wanted me to be with one. And just because I had a fairly decent voice didn’t mean God wanted me to be a singer. And just because I was with a man didn’t mean he wanted me to have a kid. He hasn’t let me do the things I chose to do that weren’t material in the past, so why should he start now? Well, nonetheless, I’m just gonna go with the flow of whatever’s fated to be. That’s all any of us can do. I’m gonna try to write this story, and if I like how it comes out, I’m going to try to get it published. That’s all for now. I’m actually kind of enjoying writing this story as slow as it’s progressing. Tom says that’s normal, though, and that he’ll help me get it out there. If I finish the story to get out there in the first place, which I don’t expect to do in this house for two reasons. Because there are more distractions here, and because I shouldn’t have time to finish it here if someone would just get the fuck out to the house to check it out and buy it!

Later…

It’s listed! It’s listed! A Betty with Southwest Properties just called wanting to show the house between 1:00 and 2:00. No problem!

Later…

Fucking Goddamn liar! Our first call was a no-show. Tom said to expect that. Makes sense. If they can bullshit you with false promises of seeing you or calling you in bars and other places, why not do it in real estate? Of course, there’s always the chance that they drove by and didn’t like what they saw, so they didn’t bother to come in. I suppose that the no-shows will be more often than not.

The freeloaders are hanging out laundry on their back block wall. What’s wrong with their clothesline? Too many people for that little line, huh?

Today’s been like it usually is during the daytime these days; not a car in sight.

We went online and saw our house listed there. It’s the cheapest one in this area with a pool.

Tom said we should be getting the lockbox. A box with a key to this house in it that the Realtor uses when we’re not home. I doubt no one will be home, though, when and if someone finally comes to see the house.

Also, he said it’s common for them not to put up signs right away. They’ll do it when it’s an efficient time, he says. He says it’s not the Realtor doing it, but someone who works at it part-time to make extra money.

Later…

Well, the realtor did make it over here after all. She came with her fem client after 3:00. He never said a word about the house. Tom said that’s common, though, for them not to say anything to the owners. They wait till they’re alone with the Realtors before they talk.

I agree with Tom - most gay guys aren’t very handy unless they have a more masculine boyfriend. If you ask me, this is a total bachelor’s house. It’s too small for kids, and I’d think most women wouldn’t like the looks of it, but guys are less picky about things like that.

Right after they left, and I mean right after, the fucking cock in the Ranchero came in, bass hammering. In the driveway too, the motherfucking cock! It was so close to the realtor, and oh God, did I want to let them have it! Aaarrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhh!!!!!!! I HATE welfare bums!!!!!!!!!!!! I fucking hate them, man I’ll tell you!

I’m just so afraid they’re gonna ruin it for us. Stay out of our way, you fucking scum-sucking freeloaders! Tom says that if a realtor can’t sell a place cuz of their shit, they’ll complain, and since the mayor’s up for re-election, the last thing he needs is realtors complaining. This will force the city to do something like maybe buy this house (so only the same scum that does the same thing ends up here).

I disagree. I think there are enough other houses for realtors to make money off of, and I think the mayor could care less. As for the city, they won’t do shit. They’ve totally given up on next door.

I do agree with him, though, when he says he thinks it’s a boyfriend/girlfriend thing. The cock that’s been coming in the Ranchero almost every day has something to do with Deb’s not being there. I think that the cock’s girlfriend, who’s probably Chester’s or Deb’s sister or cousin, has been staying there to help out with the kids and that that’s who the cock’s been coming to see. Yeah, well one way or the other, I’m gonna make sure they get theirs when I leave here. I’m not finished with them and I’m not gonna just walk away like a little wimp. I’ll be back, freeloaders! I’m gonna torture the fuck out of these little shits! I’ll scatter popcorn all over their yard to not only make a mess but to attract ants, I’ll throw nails all over the driveway to puncture their tires, whatever!

I have the headphones on now, but according to Tom, the Ranchero blasted in again. If it’s blasted in twice a day during the week, imagine how it’ll be during the weekend! The weekend’s when we’re gonna have more people here and this isn’t gonna look good. They’re gonna totally get in the way and ruin it for us, and I totally disagree with Tom when he says there’s something we can do about it. There’s nothing we can do about it. Nothing at all! I’m gonna end up killing these people before we get out of here, and I’m telling you, that’s the only way. The only way to shut people up and take care of a problem is to do it yourself. The system is too fucked up to be of any help.

Tom goes on and on about how he appreciates my control, but it can’t last forever. How far do you think you can push someone before they snap? They can only put so much pressure on me, and I’m telling you, they’re gonna get themselves killed. If not by me, then by someone. Whoever does the deed, though, will be doing the world a lotta good.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 18, 1999
The moment I’ve been waiting for for over 5 years has come! Today this old house is for sale!!

I can’t believe I haven’t heard from Andy in about a week! No response to my two reminders about not calling directly between certain hours, or his opinion on the start of my story, which I’ll get into in a minute. It’s almost like he’s gone from going out of his way to call me, to going out of his way to avoid calling me. He knows. He really knows.

Chester arrived in the striped van around 5:00. I thought, good. Now the Ranchero won’t be banging in this evening, but it did. At 6:00. It came in at a volume I’d say was between soft and medium, but I didn’t hear it leave at all. It didn’t stay as long as yesterday, fortunately, and as far as I know, it was only here once. Still, I’m not looking forward to the fact that this thing is gonna be here on a daily basis.

Still no cream pickup, but the furniture truck decided to crash there overnight last night. It’s on the street right now.

I only slept from 10 PM-3:45 AM due to the excitement of the house going up for sale today. It was weird waking up to find light faintly glowing through the sides of the shades, and I thought it was weird that I slept till sunup, till I realized it was the streetlight glowing in. Without the blocks, it doesn’t get pitch dark in there.

We did a ton of work around here yesterday. The poor guy got only a few hours of sleep before having to go to work tonight after being up for 22 hours. I worry about his heart, and you know how God is, always ready to kill good people who are way too young to die. And he does it so suddenly too, without much warning to anyone. I just hope that if something ever goes wrong with him, he can fix it in time. Furthermore, I hope and pray to God, no matter how much he may hate me as well as love me, that my husband isn’t the one to die first!

I suggested he play hooky for just one night since he hasn’t taken a day off in years, but he wants to have a good attendance record when he puts in for days.

They still have Ciara in stock. They aired her two more times.

Sekarina has taken Chyna’s place. This doll is gorgeous! She’s a 32” sitting Indonesian doll with long black hair and a gorgeous, realistic face. She doesn’t come in a pretty pink dress, but she’s beautiful. She’s $188, and I hope I can get her! So far, I’d say my chances of Ciara, Tiffany, Chyna, and Sekarina being available in 2-3 months are excellent, although I’ll have to choose between one tall doll and one that’s not so tall. If I can’t get Ciara, I’ll try for Tiffany. If I can’t get Sekarina, I’ll try for Chyna. If I can’t get any of them, I’ll start all over again and begin a new hunt.

The story I mentioned a few paragraphs ago, is the supernatural suspense story I started a couple of days ago, believe it or not. Yeah, you might be looking at the next Ruby Jean Jensen! I’m amazed at how well it’s started out so far. Basically, it’s one of those typical ghost stories. After the little girl dies in the fire, a new family will move into the house she died in after it’s fixed up, and her spirit will haunt the house. I’ve used Tom’s name and my dolls’ names for characters. I’ll get into it in more detail later.

For a while there, I was hardly hearing from Evie, but now we’re back to the daily messages. All about the kids and church. Things I can’t relate to and don’t want to relate to.

I wonder what time today they’ll pick up the dumpster. Before the for sale sign goes up, I hope.

Later…

A city pickup just arrived next door. OK, you naïve, sucker, you gonna put two and two together this time when you see the silver car and the van in the carport? You gonna realize for once and for all that there are people living there that aren’t supposed to and that the ones who are have vehicles they’re not supposed to have? No. Of course not! They’ve gotten so many complaints regarding that house, they’re sick of it, so they’ve just given up. Gonna let them do whatever the fuck they want to.

I knew it. I fucking knew it. I knew the day the house went up for sale the constant sales calls would start up again.

Later…

Thanks for the call, Andy. It’s nice to know you’re such a true friend I can count on to do me a simple little favor and not call direct at certain times. I knew it, too. I just knew the opposite-doer would call. Anything to rebel. He’s obsessed with doing the opposite of what I ask of him. This was the first private call we’ve gotten since he called me over a week ago. He didn’t say anything, just hung on the line till I hung up, but I know it was him.

The dumpster was picked up a few minutes ago. Now I’m anxiously awaiting the sign!

Later…

Still no sign up and if there isn’t by now, I’d say there won’t be one at all today. What’d they do? Go and put the sign in front of N. 21 Dr.? Botch up the paperwork? Tom said that if they don’t put it up tomorrow either, he’ll call them and also ask about those options Steven forgot to leave for us.

The blue pickup’s been next door twice today and a red car’s there right now. Another 4 hours or so and I’ll have to listen to the Ranchero blast in.

Later…

The blue pickup just came in for the third time today. Why the need for all this company? I mean, really! I know no one associated with next door works, but why does everyone have to come running over here every single fucking day of the week? Can’t they take a day off and either have no company or go to them? Jesus!

Today’s turning out to be a real bummer. No sign, no calls, no nothing. I did get some more pictures online, and I could work on my story, but I’d rather wait and do most of it, even if it takes a year, in the new house. There are too many distractions around here at certain times of the day.

Later…

What the fuck is going on next door? It’s daytime! Like I said, the blue pickup came in for the third time, then a white car came and went, and now a red car’s here again, but I don’t think it’s the same red car as what I saw earlier. The red car just backed out on the street to let the blue pickup out. If they’ve had this much company in the afternoon, the evening’s gonna be a circus over there!

I really feel like shit now. Today was supposed to be a happy day, but instead I feel miserable. I feel like Century 21 has forgotten all about us. I’m like, gee thanks, Steve. Thanks for doing a wonderful job and for making what was supposed to be a great day a depressing one.

Also, Intergroup’s fucking around again sending me a bill for the spit doctor I went to see who cleaned my ear out. Don’t these people know to just bill Intergroup? I hate Intergroup and can’t wait to have Cigna again! This billing me for shit my insurance is supposed to pay for didn’t start till after I bitched out Dr. Brown for ignoring my calls. Is there a connection? Is she having this done to spite me? Can she even do things like this?

The red car just left driven by some cock with the fatso in the passenger seat. I still don’t think she’s been staying there. As for Chester working, now I’m not sure cuz I didn’t see him get picked up today. We’re just a couple of hours away from the Ranchero.

And she’s back again, the lying sack of fat!

TUESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1999
I have a few things to update on, but not as much time right now.

I fell asleep at around 11:00 last night with the help of Benadryl. I got up at 7:30 when my alarm went off so I could be ready for the dumpster, should it come before he gets in. It hasn’t come yet. God, I hope they don’t come at 5:00!

I told Andy I’d remind him right before it’s time to stop all direct calls to me from 8 AM-8 PM. Later tonight, I’ll remind him that that’s in effect as of tomorrow. I told him to let me know if he thinks he might forget, cuz then I can just go ahead and block his number out, but he can still use the message-send thing. If he does call me, I’ll just block him out and be done with him then and there.

Later…

Just thought I’d take a break, although I don’t have much else to do. I vacuumed, mopped the kitchen floor, changed the animals, straightened up, and now all I have to do is wipe down the bathroom.

Humpty Dumpster arrived at 9:30, a few minutes before Tom got home. He’s out in the garage filling it up now.

Good news and bad news. The good news is that no, we’re not responsible for fencing the pool cuz we don’t have kids under 6. If the next people do, though, it’s their responsibility to fence the thing. For once, something in life that’s fair! The bad news is that Tom just found termites out back, but hopefully, he killed them off well enough so that they don’t interfere with the selling of this house.

I’ll be on my own Thursday with anyone looking at the house cuz he has to take Mom to an appointment. Tom said just stay out of the way and let them roam around on their own in case they want to talk in private. Not if there are little kids in tow. I’ll have to follow if there is and keep tabs on the kids since their parents won’t. I hope the realtor is wary of this too, and that she’ll keep tabs on the kids as well, knowing how destructive they are and how careless and oblivious most parents are when it comes to their kid’s shit.

Tom took the sound blocks out. I was right about spider nests. I knew something was going on in that room as far as spiders were concerned. There were a bunch of little tents they built all along the sills, so I vacuumed and sprayed them.

Looking out the front window, which the tin foil I had had behind the blocks fell off of, it was scary seeing just how fucking close next door is! These room-darkening shades really do keep light out a lot better than blinds do. Still, it’s gonna take some getting used to with the daylight in there and with headlights shining in through the sides of the shades at night. The foil in the side window held up well enough and I’ll leave it there for the next people to either keep or take down.

Anyway, with the combination of the fan and the bassy stereo I have, there shouldn’t be a problem with sleeping. Anything that wakes me up now should wake me up even if the sound blocks were still there. With just the fan or just a clock radio - forget it. I’d never sleep. I’m also going to try to stay on days for as long as I comfortably can.

I don’t know what time the furniture truck left next door yesterday evening, but there’s still been no cream pickup. Just the broken van and the silver car. A red car was here today, but I didn’t hear or see it. Tom was the one to see it come and go while he was working.

I think I may have a handle on what’s been going on next door. I don’t think Deb’s been staying there lately, and I think Chester just may’ve gotten a job! Yes, a welfare bum got a job, can you believe it? I think he’s going to work and being dropped off by that striped van. Also, I think Deb has the cream pickup. From the looks of it, her parents dropped her off here for a few minutes this morning. I don’t know the story of the silver car. My guess is that they sleep till late morning or early afternoon, but they don’t work. Or maybe they work 2nd or 3rd shift and that’s why the Ranchero kids have babysat in the evenings till Chester gets in. I just hope that fucking Ranchero’s not gonna be here every day, but I have a feeling it is.

Later…

Tom’s trimming that goddamn tree I hate so much out front. Hopefully, this will be the last time he’ll have to trim it. I reminded him to pick up the cigarette butts and the beer cans. He said he could get the beer cans, but there are too many cigarette butts and it’d be too much work. Thanks, freeloaders. Thanks a real lot. Well, I guess we’ll just have to hope it doesn’t hinder selling this house, and like he said, we can’t worry about every little thing. Also, it’s not really noticeable from the driveway and the house. You have to really get out into the yard and look at the ground in order to see shit like that, and I’d think that any people coming here are going to concentrate more on the house. Not the grounds.

MONDAY, AUGUST 16, 1999
Twice I contemplated going for a swim only to be scared off by all the bees. There are tons of them! Each summer gets worse. It used to be that you could look out at the pool and not see a bee for a few minutes at a time, but now, there’s always not one, but three or four bees when you look out at the pool.

Tom told me that he doesn’t know when they listed it, but Ma’s old house has been up for sale for quite a while. They remodeled the place and all that, but I’m not surprised it’s still up for sale. No one wants to live in Mexico, but Mexicans themselves and the poor shits probably can’t afford it.

Tom talked to Mary yesterday, and I did too, telling her I just may want to show off the new house and have her visit. I warned her, though, that I’m not used to entertaining like she is. She said she and Dave would be easy to have visit. Of course they’d be; they don’t reek of pot and cigarettes, and they’re over two. Mom can visit as often as she wants, but I’d like to have Mary and Dave visit at least once, and Evie and her family visit at least once. That way they can know we’re still alive, see the place, and not have their feelings hurt. Meaning, if we invited just Mary and Dave, Evie’s feelings may be hurt. I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings if I could help it, but I don’t care about other family members like Ray and Nora. This is, of course, with Tom’s approval. Neither of us wants a lot of people in the house at once, or frequent company. Also, with this house, it’d be easier to get the breakables into one area away from kids.

I got a kick out of how Steven said to look at this place as a customer would when we go to make it sharp. Oh, God! If I were a customer coming in here I’d turn around and run. We all have our individual tastes and tolerance levels, but first of all, if I wanted someone just 3 feet away from me I’d stick with apartments. Secondly, it’s too small and too old for us, and the layout’s not all that great. The worst thing about it is how the master bedroom is right off the living room. Just about, anyway.

We really got a tremendous amount of work done over the weekend. He really tackled the garage big time! A dumpster will be delivered tomorrow and picked up Wednesday. It’ll cost half of what we paid for the dumpster we used for the roof project, but at first I was pissed, cuz if he had just kept up on it all along, we wouldn’t have to spend the $250 to get the dumpster. Then he made some lame excuse about how we wouldn’t be in the position we’re in today if he’d kept up on it. Oh, bull fucking shit! There’s no excuse and no connection. You don’t need to be a slob to get ahead in life. Had we had a kid, for example, that would’ve held us back and we wouldn’t be listing our house in a couple of days.

He’s done work on the garage, the yard, the pool, etc.

He installed inner door locks that hold a door shut from the inside for days when we want to sleep and not have people coming in to look at the house.

Today I gave our glasses and mugs the old vinegar treatment to get rid of hard water and coffee stains.

Later…

I can’t believe it’s 3:00 and not one sales call has come in yet!! Yeah, but will it stay that way? No. As soon as the house is listed they’ll call 10 times a day.

Time for the freeloader update - the weekend went by peacefully enough. I mean, I’m sure there was shit going on at night, but he’s a heavy enough sleeper to have slept through it, and I was asleep under the fan and music.

They were only naughty once that we know of, and that was yesterday at sunset. The cunt in the Ranchero visited for a couple of hours and blasted the stereo for about 20 seconds. I’m sure they did it just so they could say they did it and that they did something they know pisses us off and that’s illegal. Anything to rebel. Anything to stand out, make a scene, be the bent fucks that they are. They also like to test me and get a bit pushy, but we’re not finished with each other yet. Upon moving, I’m sending two different city addresses a detailed letter of their shit, and of course, they’ll have their own mail to read. I’m sending a letter to the address I’ve used before complaining about the freeloaders, and the address that the black bitch received mail from, and I’m not bothering to sign it this time or put a return address. Naturally, I won’t use racial slurs or swears in their letters, but I sure will give them a piece of my mind and lay out the facts for them! It may not change anything, but it’ll do me good to vent, just like it’ll make me feel good to send the mail I’m sending to others when we move. The city’s letters will have two main issues - their noise, and the way they’re using our tax dollars to live off.

Anyway, the Ranchero came at 6:30, and so began their typical sundown lawn party. This time, though, it only lasted 3 hours, but there were the usual people - the sack of flab, a few other adults, and millions of little mistakes. At 8:30, the cream pickup, which returned a few days ago although I haven’t seen it today, came in followed by a red car. By 9:30, the Ranchero and the pickup were gone for the night, but the red car came and went once more. I never heard the Ranchero over my fan and music, but that’s the idea. I did, though, hear a few bangs from the red car which was parked in the driveway just inside the carport as it was leaving (the pickup and Ranchero had been in the street), but I think it was car doors and not music, cuz when I went out into the living room to see it pull out, I didn’t hear any music.

For the last 3-4 days, the blue pickup has been around, and a couple of days ago I saw yet another new car. It was a low, dark gray car with shiny gold hubcaps. The striped van was here this morning.

Now here’s a classic example of just how lazy these people are - they moved the garbage can to the corner of their yard, so now it’s to the left corner of our yard, rather than the right corner. You mean to tell me that they’re that lazy that they couldn’t even walk the extra 15 steps or so?! Damn!

Later…

The Ranchero just pulled up in the street with the music between a soft and medium volume. A cock got out and went into the house leaving the music on. Keep it going for five minutes and I’ll call that non-emergency number, I thought. But just then, a lady walked out to the car with the guy and some kid in tow, and she turned the stereo off. Then they all went back to the house. Deb, you better set your guests straight fast!

Later…

Now the cock, the cunt, and the kid are sitting out on the Ranchero. Good. Maybe they’ll use the street as an ashtray and not our yard. If there’s one asset to these people being lazy, it’s that they’re usually too lazy to park in the driveway. Even if it’s just a few more feet, the further away they are, the better. Except for the Ranchero’s stereo and that red Bronco, it does appear that they’re trying to stay further away from the house. I still haven’t heard any house music, either. I know this will all change before we can get out of here, though, and that the Ranchero will let me know when it leaves.

The sun’s just about getting ready to set now, so it’s prime time. This is their most active time of day. I’m sure there’ll be more vehicles and people till 9:00-midnight.

I just hope Tom’s right when he says they’ll be thrilled about seeing the house up for sale. Maybe they will want us to get out of here and maybe they will help by not making things look bad, like trash in our yard and loud music. I don’t know, though. These people love to harass people. Am I really worth the expense of the gas it takes to run the car and therefore run the stereo? Am I really worth the money? Yes. Unfortunately, I’m well worth the cost. They’ll pay whatever they can afford to in regards to me and badgering me. Well, I’m not gonna give them the reaction they want. They want me to go out there and scream at them. Well, mark my words, if I’m ever face to face with these people again, there won’t be any words coming out of my mouth. Hell no! I’ll be all action and no talk.

Later…

Wrong. The Ranchero didn’t let me know when it left cuz I was under the headphones. It let me know when it came back, but the music was so soft I couldn’t believe it! Cock, cunt, and a couple of mistakes got out and headed into the house with a couple of bags, and now it’s on to sitting on the car for a few hours or so. What a ridiculous waste of life! Although, this time, it looked like they were reading something. I thought I saw red papers.

Later…

The furniture truck that’s visited a few times was in the driveway. At least that thing doesn’t have a killer stereo. Now it looks like the girl’s holding a pink piece of paper. Yeah, well you better hurry up and finish reading, bitch. It’s getting dark fast.

But what is this? I mean, all I see out there is this couple that is about 18 (besides little kids). They’re just kids themselves. Did they come over just to sit out on the street in front of the house? What’s the matter with their street and where are Chester and Deb? Could they be gone somewhere? Is that why the cream pickup has been gone a lot? Are these kids just house-sitting and babysitting?

Later…

The furniture truck with its graffiti all over it just returned and parked on the street this time in front of the Ranchero. Then shortly afterward, Chester got dropped off in the striped van. Yeah, I guess the Ranchero kids were babysitting, cuz now they’ve closed the back of it where they had been sitting and have gone in the house, telling me that they might be leaving soon now that Chester’s back. What? Could Chester and Debra actually have gotten jobs?!?!

Later…

The Ranchero’s gone and if it doesn’t come back, it’ll enforce my belief about them being here babysitting. What? Are they gonna babysit every evening now? I don’t know if I like that idea too much. Still, I’m keeping my headphones on for the next 20 minutes before I get him up so he can finish painting the utility area (then the inside painting will be done!), then I’ll go into the bedroom and put the stereo on there.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 1999
I woke up depressed for reasons I couldn’t explain. Tom suggested that maybe it was cuz the house was going to be up for sale in just a few days, and I was like, how the fuck could that depress me?! I’m thrilled! He said it’s normal for people to feel let down after anticipating something for a long time when it’s finally about to happen and when the point of no return arrives. Believe me, I don’t want to return!

Then he said he thought it was a lack of sex. Maybe, I said, but if having sex means hurting, I don’t want to have sex. I asked, and he said he wasn’t depressed about it, and said he could adapt to whatever would make me happy. As I told him, this man’s so tolerable! So patient! So easy to please! So, I made him compromise with me by promising to be consistent about it and not spend too much time on the side, he agreed, and we screwed. To my utter amazement, there wasn’t a stitch of pain! I thought it was gonna be excruciating and that I’d have to stop him long before he could go up top, but nope. So now I know that the irritation I had wasn’t due to the length of time in between screwing, and now I know I can go a week, 2 weeks, 3 weeks, however long we want to in between sex.

I told him that it was up to him whether or not he cums. Whether or not it’s out of his hands, or a conscious decision, I’m happy as long as he’s happy with whatever it is he does. I also told him that just because I didn’t want a kid, I’d do what I could if he decided he wanted a kid, as long as he understood that that’d mean making some sacrifices. As he himself said, sometimes you gotta put up with a lot of crap and do things you don’t want to do to get something you want. Well, if he decided he wanted a kid, he’d have to temporarily change his sexual habits, and sacrifice not cumming and being himself and all that if a kid were important enough to him and if he ever wanted it bad enough. I don’t see this as something we’ll ever consciously want, but here’s something just as weird as waking up depressed; the thought of conceiving doesn’t scare me. He didn’t think this was odd, but I do. I mean, it should scare me. Not only does the thought of conceiving not scare me, but the thought of actually finding out I was pregnant doesn’t scare me, either. Again, it should. Anything that can bring so much pain, lack of sleep, lack of life, and cost so much money, should scare the living shit out of me. Out of anyone! Maybe it doesn’t cuz I know it can’t happen. Maybe cuz I know God would never give me more than I could handle? Whatever. I’m just glad it doesn’t scare me cuz that’s one less thing to have to worry about and deal with. No two. Now I don’t have to worry about when we screw, either! It takes a load off me.

I just wish women didn’t dry up so much with age! The KY’s a little too sticky, but I can’t think of anything else as effective. I asked Tom if he wanted to discuss stimulants with a doctor when we move, but he said we should wait and see what happens first (I didn’t tell him nothing would change. I’ll let him see that for himself), not that I can imagine him discussing it with a doctor. Aren’t guys supposed to be shy about discussing sex with doctors? Well, either way, I don’t think we’ll need it. He hasn’t complained about not being stimulated enough and he hasn’t brought up wanting/needing any additions to the sex, and as long as I’m not in pain and we’re both happy, everything will be OK. A little dryness on my part won’t kill us, and even a little drop of KY is all it takes to ensure I don’t get overly dry and irritated. The Vagisil also cures any irritation I may get in 1-3 doses. The stuff’s a total lifesaver! He says that the exercise machine should help with the sex too, but that’ll depend on how often we use it. It’s strictly up to him, of course, but I can’t picture him using the thing regularly. Me? Well, I’m gonna try to be as consistent as I can, but it’s gonna be hard. I mean, think about it. How many people look forward to working out and how many see it as a chore?

The only thing he’s done that I disagree with is tell me that the reason he cums so rarely is cuz I mention it when I mention sex. First of all, the two do sometimes go hand in hand. Secondly, it’s wrong for him to say that that’s why. That’d be like him saying, “If you don’t talk about how tall I am, it’ll change my height.” He is how he is, be it consciously or not. No matter what people say, it’s in our nature to be however we’re gonna be. He’s just the way he is. Period. I’m just the way I am, too. It’s not in my nature these days to cum as much as I used to, but that’s just me. It’s got nothing to do with anything he says or does. The only way he could be the way he is cuz of me would be if he thought I could get pregnant and he too, thought I couldn’t handle it. If this is the case, that’s his problem for not saying so, but let’s just sum it up like this - he cannot cum for a reason, he cannot cum for no reason. As long as he’s happy - great. If not, I’ll do whatever I can to support/help him make whatever changes he wants, and I assume his attitude’s the same; that he wants me to be happy and would also support/help me make any changes I wanted to make. Right now, though, I see no changes necessary. We can screw however often or however little we want and we can cum as little as or as often as we want. Once every 1-3 months or so, I will definitely want to get off by him and I will want variety, so I’ll have him go down on me. I told him this earlier, and he agreed. He also agreed we wouldn’t try to get me pregnant or try to avoid it when we move. This is subject to change, I understand, and I can be flexible. Like I said, if he decided to try to help me conceive (regardless of if I don’t think that can happen), fine. Just like I’m sure he’d be willing to try to make all the surer I didn’t conceive if I wanted to do the rhythm method or have him never cum at all. Like I said, though, I trust destiny to take care of itself. To each their own, but I don’t think we have to influence or help what’s fated to be.

So, what do I see up ahead as far as sex goes? Whatever happens, happens, but I’d have to guess, going by logic and our natures, that I can expect to see more on-top action and less side action, us rarely cumming, and more of a variety of times between sex. At least we don’t have to be consistent about it, but he does have to watch how much time he spends on the side. If he spends too much side time I get pressure pains.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 13, 1999
I ditched the bikini file I had made. Seeing bodies I wish I had really isn’t gonna change how I eat/live one way or another, and they had boring faces, so I got rid of them. I’m a face person, not a body person when it comes to others. It’s my body I care about size-wise and all that, not someone else’s.

I don’t know if we’ll ever have sex again after moving. I’m just not looking forward to the pain and like I said a million times before, I can’t keep starting and stopping every 3-6 weeks like we always have. Also, I said the sex lost its newness and its excitement, not that I didn’t like the sex itself. So, after not doing what became too familiar and predictable for a while, it won’t be boring if we do it again. I think all couples find they have to take a break from sex every now and then to freshen things up. Do I want to change the sex itself? No, cuz I want him to do what he likes and feels comfortable with. We couldn’t, for example, decide to doggie style one day. Going from side to top definitely suited us best. Well, I guess I’ll leave it up to him cuz in this day and age; I can live with or without sex. It’s him that matters to me. It’s him I can’t live without as a whole. His dick is just a small part of him. Well, sort of. His dick is big, actually, but you know what I mean. If he feels he can do it at least once a week consistently and that he needs it, I’ll give it to him, but me, I just don’t need it. I need him.

Although it’s only been 20 days since my hair was cut, both of us noticed how it’s grown back a little. Like half an inch.

A couple of days ago there was a call that said bus something on the caller ID box. They left a hang-up message. It was definitely a business and it had an exchange for the Springfield area, although a different area code. The only one I can think of that had a connection to buses is Larry. For about 15 years he drove charter buses that drove longer distances than just around the city to places like Boston and New York. He drove for Greyhound for a while, but mainly Peter Pan. Well, nothing’s changed. I have nothing to say to him, to his sister, or to his parents.

Today Tom’s gonna call Leona, or whoever’s working today if she isn’t, and tell them we want our $1000 back, cuz the interest rates are too high.

Once the house is listed, he’ll search for land to buy. Also, there definitely won’t be a layover as long as we work with Steven, who’s gonna save us a lot of time and legwork compared to Leona. No wonder I never vibed a layover.

This changing from Leona to Steven has turned out to be a good thing in many ways. I can make some changes to the house easier now. The more I think about it, the more I think vinyl in the dining area will look funny cuz of the way that area is laid out. If we had had kids, that’d be different, but he never eats at the table, and if I use common sense and be careful, I’m sure I can avoid messy spills. I also want the living room wired for a ceiling fan, and to see if once again, we can go back to getting just a shower stall in the second bath.

I cleared a few pieces of old furniture that can go to the alley for bulk pickup, although I still say that most of what we put out there will be gone long before the truck comes to haul it. I started to move the little shelves I once used as a paper station to put the pig on, and thank God I didn’t cuz it fell apart. Meanwhile, I cleared the two old desks in the back room and put the pig on the floor. The mice are on a shelf just inside the back room where we used to keep the microwave. The rats are in their usual spot by the back door. Lastly, I took what I was using for a night table out of the bedroom and then stacked two boxes by the bed to use as a makeshift night table. On it, I put one of my stereo speakers, my lamp, a spot for my book, a coffee mug, and my inhaler. I do have a box of mints and some hair elastics there, too.

Yesterday, I saw a big silver Jeep next door for a while. Otherwise, I’ve been blessed enough not to have seen much of them lately cuz I’ve been on days. I’ll be asleep during tonight’s and tomorrow night’s turmoil over there, so during their weekend ruckus, I’ll definitely have the stereo going. Louder than usual, too.

Later…

The impatient little fuck that had to honk 3 times just pulled up in its van. In the sunlight, I could see that it was more of a white and dark reddish-orange striped van than gray and maroon. It was here to pick up Chester. Again, what’s wrong with the van and silver car? My best answer is that the van’s busted, and the people with the silver car sleep late and don’t trust Chester or Deb taking it out themselves.

Just 10 more days to go with the braces. And yes, my front teeth have straightened some more. They’re not perfect but they’re plenty good enough.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 12, 1999
Yesterday, both of us slaved our asses off getting the house presentable. The house and the yard haven’t looked this good in over a year. The patio is all cleaned off, and the back room is neat, uncluttered, and organized. He still wants to get some of the boxes that are stacked in a corner of the back room into the little room in there. He has the boxes where the main leak was, saying he trusts it’ll never leak there again. Well, it didn’t leak the last time it rained, but it’ll leak there again.

Anyway, it was so nice to wake up to a neat, organized house. It really eases my stress, cuz it not only looks better, but it also makes me feel like we’re closer to moving.

Steven was here at the house for 2½ hours. He was a bit disorganized, semi-gay-sounding, way too thin and tall, but nice enough. We think he’ll get the job done and that he has a little more experience and knowledge than Leona and her people did. He can also save us at least $20,000, as well as take care of more for us than Leona could. Leona couldn’t even have a contractor put a trash compactor in for us. This guy can.

He’s offering the model we want for $46,000. Leona’s company wanted $68,000. He says he has the same options available and even more. He was going to leave us a list of the options he’s got, but he forgot to. Just like he forgot to bring his tape measurer to measure the length of the house, but I already did that. He had the total square footage for this house which is 1471, not counting the garage. I thought it weird that it was an odd number, but this house itself is a bit odd. We figured the living room here is about 15x18, the master bedroom 15x15, the other bedroom 12x12, the kitchen 12x15, and the back room 30x15. These are approximations only, though. The width of the house is about 35’ and the length is about 40’. The property is about 100’ long and 45’ wide.

He was a typical salesman in the way that he bragged about how good he was and how bad others were. According to him, Leona doesn’t know her stuff when she asked if we could haul water when we mentioned it. She’d never even heard of hauling water. It’d be more convenient for us to have a well, rather than to haul our own water, but this guy may be able to drill us a well that’s affordable enough. The water table in Maricopa is about 700’.

I got a kick out of how he asked if this was a 2-bedroom after we just took him on a tour of the place.

He took off for about 10 minutes or so to look at other houses around the area that are for sale so he could get a good idea of what price to start with. We’re starting with what we know is too high - $85,000. He recommends we stick with that for a couple of weeks, then we can drop it lower. After Tom did some calculating, he told me we could end up selling for as low as $65,000 and still get most of the stuff we want for the new house. He said we can expect a lot of showings. We were surprised to hear this, and of course, I’m like - oh no! That’s all the more kids that are gonna come in here and trash the place. Naturally, Tom’s disagreeing with me, saying that they don’t trash things and they don’t come to look at houses with their parents. Yes, they do. Trust me, there’ll be plenty of kids in here, and they will trash the place while their parents act like nothing’s going on. They just don’t discipline their kids. It’s so rude to let an untamed kid of about 1-4 years of age who’s totally wild and destructive run loose in someone’s home. They don’t understand “no” at that age, and they need to be restrained. The show must still go on, though, so I’ll just take as much stuff as I can and get it out of kids’ reach.

He said our house would have an easier time selling in the summer than in the winter cuz of the pool. People like the idea of being able to move into a house and go swimming, but they couldn’t do that in December unless they could afford to heat the thing.

As I knew would be the case, he mentioned the fact that there are only 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom as a negative, but the pool, covered garage, and other things make up for it.

So, although he’s gonna be the one to list this house, and take care of our new house and its prep work, he’s not necessarily going to be the one showing this house (yes, they will call first).

We didn’t take the sound blocks out yet. They’ll come out when the house is listed.

We have an application to fill out and fax to him, but since we still have the garage to do and the storeroom out back, we asked not to list the house till the 18th. I just can’t wait to see that for-sale sign! Can’t wait for the freeloaders to see it, too! I’ll want the whole world to see it! I’ll be sure to take pictures of it and include a copy for them. I asked Tom what he thought their reaction would be, and he said they’ll be thrilled. Maybe, maybe not. That depends on how much they’re gonna miss having someone around that they know damn good and well they can piss off with their antics. For all they know, the next people in here may not mind, and remember, these people want conflict. They love having enemies.

I still can’t decide who’s worse - the blacks or the Mexicans. That’s a tough call cuz the Mexicans don’t blast in 5-10 a day like the blacks did, but the blacks didn’t trash our yard and hang outside from 11 PM to sunup, either.

This morning they decided to take a break from the banging. I haven’t heard a sound since being up at 3:30 AM, except for the 7 AM honk of the gray/maroon van. They did have their front porch light on, though, and I heard the dog across the street go off for a few minutes at 4:00, so they were obviously out and about. Probably hanging out on their front porch. Fortunately, sound can’t travel into this house from their front porch like it can from their back patio. In back, it’s a straight shot to the house, pretty much, but part of their living room is in between our house and their front porch, so we can’t hear them from there unless they scream.

Yesterday morning I saw the same white car pull out that we saw early Saturday morning out front. Still no cream pickup. Just the van and silver car living there now.

Anyway, we should have about 6-8 more weekends left here! God, I hope no more than that!

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 11, 1999
Let me get caught up with the freeloaders before moving on to better, important things.

Yesterday was a pretty active morning for some of the many freeloaders in that household. At 7:00, a maroon and gray van that I saw at their “housewarming” party, pulled up at the curb honking its horn every minute for 5 minutes, till someone finally came out, got in the passenger seat, and took off.

A little later, a gold pickup came and did some honking.

Lastly, to honk up to the curb, was an AAA Cab, which honked on and off for 5 minutes. The driver was a Mexican, so that explains some of the rude, obnoxious honking right there. He went to the house at one point, but he didn’t take anyone with him, so I guess someone either called in the wrong address, or the freeloaders changed their minds and didn’t have the decency to call the company. Why do these subhumans need vans, pickups, and cabs anyway, with a car and a van of their own?

The freeloaders have been trashing our yard with cigarette butts and beer cans. Typical, typical, filthy, fucking freeloaders! Even before we ever spoke a word to each other they did this (it’s just escalated since our childish sickos have been more and more of a problem to us), and they’ll do it to the next people that live here, too. That is your classic Mexican; trashing other people’s yards. They’re just so fucking bold, too! You gotta have a death wish for sure if you’re that brazen enough to trash someone’s yard. They came into this neighborhood totally asking for trouble. They may as well have brought signs in saying, fuck this neighborhood and the people in it. We’re gonna force our noise on you, we’re gonna trash your yard, we’re gonna totally shit on you for no Goddamn reason! Fucking, motherfucking freeloaders!!! I’ll bet you my animals that these freeloaders won’t even make it to 40 years of age before somebody kills them. They’re totally asking to be shot! And of course, they can trash our yard and get away with it and I can’t. If I threw garbage in their yard, I’d have to dodge being subpoenaed. I feel like these freeloaders can and will get away with everything they’ve done to me and like I can’t do squat about these shits but take whatever they dish out to me. I want soooooooo bad to go over there and just beat the living shit out of these fucking assholes! However, just like with 95% of the things in life, you can’t always do what you want, for they’d definitely shoot me, and unlike in the past, I don’t have a death wish.

Maybe their butts and cans are my punishment for the bottle I gave the blacks, and if so, who punishes the blacks and the Mexicans for the shit they did to me? I just hope that either way, God will punish them and the blacks that used to live there. They’ve done way more to me than I ever did to them. The worst I ever did to these freeloaders was cuss them out and threaten to shoot their dog (the previous freeloaders). Meanwhile, between the two, I’ve had to endure 4 years of noise harassment and stress.

What I wonder is, how much are these freeloaders going to interfere with us trying to sell this place? It’s not gonna look very good showing a house with a yard that’s littered with trash. Trash that obviously came from next door. No one’s gonna want to live next to that but a pack of scummy Mexicans that do the same thing and are just as noisy, yet there’s no guarantee that we can get freeloaders to look at/buy the place. I’m just glad these people are fairly dormant during the day and I hope they stay that way while we’re still here. That way, there’s less chance a potential white buyer will come to look at the place during one of their antics since they’ll probably come looking during the daytime. The earlier they come, the better the chances of the freeloaders being out of sight and sound.

The freeloaders are gonna be getting a little more than just typed journals of their bullshit, cuz Mary’s read them a tape. Yeah, we had so many blank cassettes that I felt it was about time I used one. It won’t cost any more postage, so I had Mary tape them a tape of their stuff, some of the edits, and bits and pieces of mumbo jumbo from old journals.

I’ve heard about 5 bangs since 4:00 just like I did yesterday, but can’t say for sure it was them. I haven’t spent much time in the bedroom since I got up after midnight, but it probably was them. What other idiot around here would be out bopping around and banging shit at 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning?

OK, that was a definite bang from next door. A loud one, too. Keep it up, fuckers! For the last two days, they’ve started this shit at 4 AM and continue on till sunup, around now, at 5:30, when most of them crash. They crash with the sunrise and get up with the sunset.

Later…

In the 6 hours I’ve been up I’ve cleaned the counters and stovetop, and done the bathroom floor. Yesterday he began putting on new baseboards that you glue on in the kitchen and bathroom and pulled up the bathroom carpet. I could’ve shot him for using carpet tape like I could’ve shot myself for doing the wall art. It was a bitch to get up, but if ever I felt like I’ve contributed something, it was today. It took me nearly an hour to do, which saved him valuable time. Then I mopped the floor.

I still have to change the rat and pig’s cages. The mice are fine as they are, though. I also have to do the grocery list, the dishes, and scrub the kitchen sink.

I moved Bailey and Maria out of the bedroom so that they won’t get hit with dust when the sound blocks are removed.

Tom’s mom asked him if I’d feel safe out where we’re moving. Bet she didn’t ask if he’d feel safe. I know people mean well, but you know, this really offends me. What? Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t feel safe? Well let me set the record straight - I’m no more fearful of living out there than any man would be, OK? Also, people are kidding themselves if they think a man is any safer from a burglar or a homicidal maniac than women are. When killers kill, they kill anyone, of any gender. People that break in houses, be it to rip you off or cuz they’re maniacs, almost always bring guns cuz they don’t know if there’s gonna be dogs or a bunch of people waiting for them, so they usually use guns. If they’re crazy, they’re crazy, and they’ll kill a man just as easily as a woman. If they’re burglars who intend to kill, they kill cuz they don’t want to leave any witnesses. A man can be a witness, too. So, if I’m not safe out there, neither is he, unless he was out at the time some gun-twirling cock came to the house. If they were dumb enough to come unarmed, and if there was just one or two of them, then I’d be doing the killing. With my bare hands. I’ve certainly never killed before (just came close a few times, and wanted to a million times), but I know it’s something I could do as easily and as remorselessly as I could kill a spider if my life or my husband’s ever depended on it.

I look at moving out there and getting broken into or killed as I do with the kid, the chances of it happening is one in millions, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna live in fear and limit myself to where I go and what I do. As Tom says, you deal with what life brings, and like I said, when we’re fated to go, we’re fated to go. Meanwhile, you just hope for the best in life and try to get all you want/can in life.

I also doubt we’ll be that secluded. I’m sure we’ll be able to see 4-5 houses from ours and that while we won’t hear kids and dogs much, we’ll still hear almost as many stereos as we do here. That’s only because these bassy things are so potent. Even when they’re not that loud, they can easily permeate through walls miles away.

Later…

I just turned the sound machine on in the living room since the dog across the street decided to go off, and it’s not just one dog, either. It looks like she has a little puppy with her.

Tears of mixed emotions such as excitement and anxiety sting my eyes as I think about moving, but they rarely fall. Maybe when it’s over. It was like that for me in Norwich. The tears of relief and happiness of getting out of there didn’t fall till afterward. It’s usually after one gets out of an uncool ordeal that their emotions spill forth.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 10, 1999
I slept with that song playing and I slept fine. Just maybe I will get out of here able to say they never woke me up, as shocking as that’d sound.

I asked Tom if they were playing music and what vehicles he saw yesterday evening before he headed off to work. He said there was no music and no vehicles. They were standing around as if they were waiting for someone and they might’ve been barbecuing, but by the time he left for work, they were gone. Yeah, well like I said, they always hang out front. I haven’t seen anything out front since being up at 9:30, but they were probably out earlier, and again, they hang out more on weekends.

I know these people don’t work, and neither does anyone they know, but I was semi-surprised to see them have company yesterday late morning when they’re usually asleep. The blue pickup was there for a while. The company usually doesn’t get here till in the late afternoons, but mostly in the early evenings.

For the first time yesterday, Tom and I both heard soft music coming from the silver car as it left and returned at around noon. I asked Tom if he thought they just got a stereo for this car and he said no. Again, though, why wasn’t the music much louder if they’re so “blatantly illegal” and know we don’t like it? That’s the only thing that doesn’t make sense with these sick people. These are the kind of people who only turn it up all the louder each time you ask them to turn it down. No matter if you’re polite about it, or you cuss them out and threaten them.

Tom got the light blue paint we need to cover up some nasty spots by the front door. He’s also done a lot of yard work.

Yesterday, he was sleeping on the couch for a few hours between work and picking up the paint when I heard him mumbling in his sleep. The only words I could make out were, “The position they’ve earned in their little corner of the universe.”

Went online last night and got some more wallpaper pictures of the usual stuff, but this time, I also got some pictures of ladies in bikinis too, to make me jealous. I figured that the more I see that, the less I’ll want to eat.

Andy left a message yesterday that was surprisingly full of different activities he’s been doing. Instead of the usual about staying home and getting stoned while he watches TV, eats, and gabs on the phone, he told me he’s been doing more “manly” things. Yard work, growing a bit of a mustache and a goatee (yuck). He also said Barbara Nicks gave him money to buy lawn tools, and that he went to see Donna Summer in concert. I love her disco music from the 70s.

Later…

What is that I’ve been seeing in the freeloader’s driveway, broken glass? Well if it is, it wasn’t me (ha, ha). Also, our little childish neighbors have been banging off and on throughout the night. At first I didn’t know what it was. I thought it could be anything, anywhere, till I was in the bedroom and heard a bang that definitely had to have come from over there. Grow up, freeloaders! Get a life! Don’t these people have anything better to do than go banging shit around and antagonize us? They just love to instigate shit, huh? They’re really asking for it! Anyway, the few slams I heard here and there were their vehicle doors. The shit began around 4:00 and I could see their back patio light was on too, at that time, which hadn’t been on earlier at 2:00.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 8, 1999
This is utterly unbelievable! Still no vehicles!

These doll shows are really starting to piss me off. I tune in for dolls, and instead I get jewelry and Barbies. They’re spending too much time on stuff that shouldn’t be on a doll show. Especially one that’s supposed to be geared toward porcelain dolls. And they take forever, too. They spend 15-20 minutes selling a ring, for Christ’s sake!

Later…

I should’ve known it wouldn’t stay quiet. That red Bronco just blasted in. It wasn’t tremendously loud like last Saturday, but it was still too loud, and I hate these sick fucks! They are despicable! I hate the city too! How dare the city put this shit next to me year after year after year! And you God, allowed it! But we just can’t get out of here fast enough! How many more weekends is this thing gonna blast by?

Anyway, I didn’t hear how it left cuz I was under the headphones. The question is, will it return tonight? So, this is our new Saturday night routine, huh freeloaders?

Later…

I looked out the living room window, and right now I can’t see light casting a glow from their front porch light onto their front lawn like I could last night, so does this mean they’re not expecting anyone to come banging in like last night at 12:40 AM? There are still a couple of things that make no sense; why did the house music stop, for example? You’d think they’d be more eager to blare music from inside the house, and why haven’t they gone back to gabbing and shouting all night long outside?

When I got up at 10:30, there was a message left by Tom saying he hung around 15 minutes late before going to work cuz they were out front, but he didn’t think there’d be any big ruckus to wake me up but to call him if there was a problem and he’d come right home. Yeah, they’re always out front. I can’t wait to ask him what they were doing and what vehicles he saw. Were they playing music? Were they yelling and screaming? If he tells me they were noisier than usual, I won’t be the least bit surprised. On and off from 6 AM to around noon, Tom was doing yard work. I thought to myself right then and there that they’ll probably “retaliate” by sending us back noise of their own, which only goes to show just how childish these sick fucks are, just like the cops said. With our luck, we didn’t wake them up, although they were probably sleeping when the yard work was being done. But someone probably woke up to pee or something like that and heard us. Therefore, they sure as hell weren’t gonna hear us without being heard right back.

Meanwhile, I’ve decided to take preventative steps to ensure my sleep before they manage to wake me up. Instead of waiting for that to happen, I’m gonna just go ahead and sleep with that bassy, instrumental Gloria song played continuously to cover any noise they could make, short of taking out the bedroom window or pummeling the walls with bricks. Every time I go to sleep with my not-so-loud fan and my not-so-loud heartbeats going on the sound spa, I stress out wondering if they’re gonna wake me up. Well, I’m sick of going to bed stressed out, so I’ll just put the music on to ensure my peace and to ensure that they remain unharmed by me. Yeah, I’d love to go over there and pop them all a good one, but I’d love it even more if we could just get the fuck out of here and I could mail them their little write-ups.

It’s no wonder the garbage can in the alley’s always so full. The freeloaders never recycle anything. All their garbage goes in the alley.

For the last few days, I haven’t seen the cream pickup. Just the never-moving van that’s always deep in the carport, and I guess the silver car’s still there.

What I saw on the doll show last night is a good sign, I hope. Chyna’s still in stock, and they also still have that Tiffany doll which they’ve taken $100 off of. So now she’s the same price as the Ciara doll.

I went online yesterday looking for colorful 3D images. I didn’t find any, but I did find some more beautiful wallpaper. Pictures of scenery, animals, flowers, etc. It’s just soooo fun to browse through these pictures, and I even got a cool idea. I’m gonna make a collage on the walls in my “office” when we move of all the different pictures.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 7, 1999
Well, the Ranchero, or whatever vehicle that is, isn’t going anywhere soon from the looks of it and I’ll be damned if I’ll keep the headphones on till 2:00 or 3:00 if that’s how long these weird fucks choose to stay out there. I still can’t believe people are that desperate for attention and would choose to sit out in such warm humid weather, rather than indoors where it’s cooler.

I can’t decide who’s been worse - the blacks or the Mexicans. Well, the blacks never had street chats at midnight! For the last few nights, they’ve been stirring up that dog across the street, which may be another reason why they sit out front and on the street. Also, I saw something dart up the driveway that moved too fast to be a kid. At least I think it did. I should’ve known they’d get a dog for me to listen to as punishment for bitching about the music. That’s what the blacks did. After bitching about their music, they got a dog, so why wouldn’t these fuckaroos do the same? Well, if they did, although I don’t hear any barking, the city will hopefully be back to the house again soon for whatever reason and see the dog. Although, I don’t know if they’d care anymore. They don’t mind letting them make scenes and have people live there that aren’t supposed to, so maybe they just don’t care anymore what these people do. If they’re gonna allow illegal residents, illegal vehicles, and a ton of noise, they won’t mind a dog. If they did get a dog, at least we won’t have to live with it 3 feet away for 6 months like with the black bitch’s beast, and hopefully, they won’t rig it to their van in the carport. At least dogs can be fanned out. Also, I never use the music room or the back room anymore on a regular basis, which are the rooms closest to their backyard. If that’s where they keep it. They may tie it to their tree in front for all I know.

Anyway, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if this vehicle pulled away in a very loud manner. Or one that’s loud enough. Like I said, they don’t care about laws, they don’t care about the people around them. They don’t care that it’s after midnight. These people are sick, though. Totally sick! They let their kids run around and dart in and out of the street after midnight! Again, hope somebody gets hit by a car.

Later…

Still out there. Now that’s having no life. Imagine having nothing better to do than sit and gab outside in warm, humid weather with people you see all the time, anyway? They don’t work, they don’t tend to their kids, they don’t do anything, so what can they possibly have to say to each other for so long?

Later…

They’re still out there. If our lifeless losers are still out there at this hour, then they’ll be there till sunup, no doubt.

Later…

The vehicle’s now in a different position, but they’re still out there. I can see one of the little mistakes running around out there. Running around in front, where there are no enclosed walls, in the middle of the night! Damn! Anyway, I’m still not sure if this is the Ranchero or the cream pickup. I can’t tell what the fuck it is. The kids must love all the people and commotion, though, and in a way, I envy them and wish I could’ve grown up like this; so free-spirited with so few rules, restrictions, and discipline. I know I used to love it when we’d have company, especially overnight. So I can only imagine how much fun those kids must be having. I mean, my mother would never let us stay up till 3 AM!

Later…

It’s gone! The vehicle’s gone. Betcha these journals it’ll be right back, though!

Later…

Shockingly, that vehicle hasn’t returned. Just like they do 8 out of 10 times, things went according to vibed. When I got up at 5 PM, I didn’t have that bad, depressing, stressful, negative, ominous vibe I had last weekend when there was a reason for it.

Later…

An unidentified vehicle just pulled up in front of the freeloaders, and I think I heard a squeak as it did, so that would mean it’s the cream pickup. This stirred up the dog across the street. At least this one doesn’t bark for more than a few minutes at a time and for no reason at all like with the collies. I can’t believe the collies haven’t been going off all night with their street partying. And how the fuck can the people across the street sleep with their damn dog just below their windows barking on and off all night cuz of these freeloaders? This dog is right smack outside their bedroom windows. Even closer than the black bitch’s beast was. The black bitch’s beast was about 3’ away, but this one’s practically right up against the house.

Later…

Got up at 9:00 with no bad vibes in the air. There have been no vehicles within my range of view looking out the living room window. It’s early yet. Most of the fucks next door and their “friends” have only been up a few more hours than I have, so any sec now, a 4-hour street gathering should break out.

Later…

Still no vehicles, but I don’t really expect them to do any street hanging till at least 11:00.

Later…

Almost 11:30 and not a freeloader in sight.

I don’t think the cream pickup was next door at all yesterday. At 5 AM, I noticed yet another new car. A white car in the driveway. When Tom went to Jack-n-the-Box, he said someone was sitting in it with the door open. Yeah, I believe it. People out here are so weird. He said it’s common for teenagers to hang out in cars to get away from adults. I didn’t know it was just teens hanging in the cars. I can imagine, though, wanting to get out of a house so tremendously crowded. Just how could you hold a conversation in that household without having to shout to one another to be heard over the many other voices?

Anyway, shortly after 5:00, the driveway and street were vehicle-free and they hit the sack. Only the silver car and the never-moving van stayed there overnight last night. I’m sure the van is in its usual spot right now, and the silver car is probably parked in the carport too, but the cream pickup could be anywhere.

I can’t wait till the realtor gets here Wednesday!

We’re going to take the sound blocks out before he comes, which I might keep out during the remainder of my time here since they won’t block the sound of a loud stereo blaring by. The sound blocks help keep out smaller sounds, but they won’t keep big sounds out like pounding bass. The fan alone may be enough of a guard against smaller sounds, but if someone should have their bass thumping loud enough, it doesn’t matter whether or not I have the sound blocks.

I still fear having to sit and listen to bass invading my home when we move. It’s such a potent sound that can be heard for miles! Maybe, though, just maybe, there won’t be nearly as much in the way of monstrous stereos where we’re going. And maybe, just maybe, God won’t make me pay for having it quieter, either.

I told Tom I still think kids will be heard in the daytime, as they stop and talk in the street in front of our house on their way somewhere, but he says not out there. He says out there, it’s too hot or dangerous to be out cuz of rattlesnakes, so they basically stay in their own yards. That’s hard to believe. He says there’s no place to walk to or to ride bikes to, but I’m sure they must walk or ride to friends’ houses. Well, we’ll just see when we get out there. Still, I wonder - how much quieter will it be? And will there be a price to pay for it?

FRIDAY, AUGUST 6, 1999
They loitered in and around the cream pickup in the street from about 8:30-11:00, then that mystery vehicle that was parked behind it left. This just goes to show how much they do not want to be ignored. They do not want to live in peace with their neighbors. No, they weren’t noisy yet. Not till the weekend. Also, it goes to prove we’re right when we say they could care less whether or not they live or die cuz guess what the stupid idiots were doing? Sitting in and leaning against their metal pickup during lightning. Those stupid, stupid fucks! Oh God, why couldn’t you have struck them dead?! Hey, God loves losers like that. Anyway, I saw cocks, kids, and the fat tub of shit.

At one point while they were out there, a car pulled up in front of our house, a guy walked up to the passenger window for a second, then the car took off. Now, tell me that wasn’t a drug transaction and I’ll tell you you’re full of shit!

Later…

Wow! Just 17 days to go before the braces are off. Maybe.

Tom went to bed a little while ago, shortly after I got up. He had time to fill me in, though. He did some work around the house and made arrangements for a realtor to be here Wednesday at 2:00! The guy he called was the guy that that nosy Mexican recommended. The one that worked at the place where we saw our favorite model for the first time. The guy said he was surprised she recommended him since they’re competitors and he’s her ex-husband. Anyway, this guy, Steven W, says he can sell us this same model for 20 thousand less, as well as coordinate the selling of this house and the buying of the land. He said he can have the land prepped for 9 G’s, instead of 16 G’s. The question is, is he full of shit, or what? Well, we’ll find out come Wednesday.

I just want out of here! This has got to be the longest, most drawn-out thing I’ve ever anticipated in my whole life! I just can’t wait to get out of this house! Away from these freeloaders! Able to mail my mail to the shitfucks back east, Andy, and the blacks and Mexicans! Like I said, I don’t care if we have a layover or not. Tom said we can maybe rent a house for a month or stay in a condo or a townhouse. Whatever. Anywhere but here!

Later…

Our weekend company has arrived. I’m under the headphones now, of course, and will be till around 11:00. As I approached the window, I saw what might’ve been the enemy vehicle pulling away from the curb, and what I thought was the blue pickup in the driveway. I’m not sure, though, cuz the hubcaps are different on this pickup. For the most part, these freeloaders seem pretty big on pickups. Anyway, there’s gonna be vehicles coming and going till late tonight, so that’s why I’m headphoned, naturally. They may even have overnight company.

At 6:30 this morning, I walked towards the bedroom window where the stereo is when I heard soft music for 60 seconds. Was it next door? Or was it a loud car stereo from far away?

Later…

The freeloaders have taken to their usual evening routine - hanging out in the cream pickup. I’m sure this is where they’ll be till 11:00 or so. How fucking boring! Imagine spending 3 or more hours hanging outside in a pickup on the street. I’d rather be in a nice, private yard on a chair or something, with a book to read or puzzles to do. I’m surprised they aren’t doing this evening ritual in the carport just outside our windows. Well, they can’t block the driveway when their company has gotta come and go a million times, can they? Still, I’m surprised they don’t have the company use the street while they use the driveway. However, if they stay in the street, more people will hear and notice them. If they confine themselves to the carport, though, fewer people will be forced to acknowledge their sorry existence. They’re actually closer to the collie’s house than ours, but sorry freeloaders, they won’t even notice you exist. They won’t mind your noise. Not with 2 barking dogs and 2-3 kids of their own.

I’ve done some thinking and thought back to every single place I ever lived since being on my own and I see a scary, yet distinct pattern - the blacks and Mexicans always end up next to me. I could move to a house set amid hundreds of empty houses. Then all white residents, save for one non-white, would move in. And guess where the non-white resident would be? You got it! Right next to me. About 8 out of the 11 places I lived in had a non-white next to or above me. I just want to have white neighbors for a change when we move, OK? OK, God? Please! There may be just as many fucked up whites, but please, give me a change of pace and give me white neighbors who don’t have a ton of kids and who aren’t associated with vehicles with such monstrous stereos!

Tom said that while he was putting vents over the holes he drilled in the garage a long time ago, and did more work around the house, the silver car was nestled in the carport. Yeah, I know. They sleep during the day. I don’t think Deb and her hubby do, though. I think they sleep from around midnight to 6 AM, but the silver car people sleep during the day from what I can tell. I don’t know how, though. How do you sleep in a household of wild screaming kids? Well, they probably grew up with that same shit, so it’s easier to deal with something you’ve grown up with.

Later…

Holy shit! The freeloaders have taken off and gone elsewhere. Gone elsewhere on a Friday night! Yeah, there have been no vehicles within my range of view for the last couple of hours over there.

Just like two months ago, I had that pain in my lower right side again for 3-4 days, followed by a couple of days of very light spotting. But it can’t be ovulation anymore than it can be appendicitis, cuz I had no fever! Just what could it be? Maybe I’ll never know.

The music room is the perfect run-around room for the rats now, cuz it no longer has wires and dangerous things for them to chew on. Tom and I both agreed that the retreat would make a good rat room in the new house.

I laid it out on the line with Tom about sex and told him basically that for one reason or another, I’ve never been happy with him sexually, and that that’s obviously not going to change. Then, just as I knew he would, he went into the let’s-wait-and-see-what-happens-when-we-move bullshit. But I did see. I’ve seen for years. It’ll never change. No matter where we move, no matter what we do. I’m just bored with the sex. Tired of the same old, same old 9 out of 10 times we get together. First he humiliated me by not cumming, making me think I wasn’t good enough, and making me feel he was the biggest liar when he said he wanted a kid. Then the dream of having a kid died with time and I got comfortable with the familiarity of the same old routine every time, but only for a while. Now I’m bored shitless with the sex and I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to have sex with him despite how much I love him and want him, and him only, forever. I also reminded him that my crotch can’t take sex too often or too little.

Later…

The freeloaders are back, loitering on the street. At first I thought the vehicle they were hanging out in was the cream pickup, but it might be the Ranchero. Well, I knew it would be here this weekend, after all, and I threw the headphones back on before they could go pushing the wrong buttons and get themselves hurt and myself in jail. I thought I heard a few faint beats of music for 5 seconds or so, testing me. Anything to rebel against the law and their neighbors, the fucking motherfucking freeloaders!

THURSDAY, AUGUST 5, 1999
I see a boy of about 3-5 years of age and a girl of about 8-10 years of age out front playing with a hoe. The boy is naked save for his underwear. What kind of parent would let a little kid play out front barefoot in just underwear, unsupervised? Serves the parents right if the kid runs into the street and gets hit by a car.

Tom said the gold car was here today. Deb’s folks, huh? If only mommy and daddy knew just what a pathological liar their daughter is!

Tonight’s company is due to roll in (or blast in) any sec now, so on goes the headphones for 3-4 hours. This weekend is gonna be totally rocking over there. Between the Ranchero, that red car, and God knows what else, it’s gonna be tremendously noisy! I’ll be living under the headphones for sure. I’m surprised they haven’t gone back to gabbing all night long outside since the liar called the cops.

The big question is, why don’t people around here do something? Why is it always us to write to the city? What would it take for people to do something around here? I’ll bet these sick fucks could blast music 24/7 and still, no one would complain!

Tom put the screen saver maker program back, but it doesn’t work. Fine. I’m not gonna bother him with it anymore. If I mentioned every little computer problem I had, he’d really never have free time.

Later…

How astonishing! It’s 8:00 and no company yet! But what the fuck is the weirdo in the silver car doing? The car pulled out of the carport and right to the edge of the street, facing outward, yet the fuck’s just sitting there. Now it’s rolling backward, into the carport. It’s just sitting there now. I can tell this cuz I can see the headlights shining out. At first I thought, what would it be sitting there for but to blare music? However, it’s not. Besides, if they want to blast music, all they have to do is turn on music inside the house.

Later…

Still no company! Anyway, those lights I see shining out of their carport are not headlights. It’s their security light which they’ve changed to a brighter bulb like the one the blacks had. I’m not surprised. I mean, I’m sure I’m the main reason they’ve brightened their security light. Also, it’s on continuously and not on a motion sensor. I didn’t even know it could be left on continuously till these freeloaders arrived.

Later…

Oh, Jesus! What kind of fucking idiot lets their kid run around naked in the dark by the street!

I could see a cluster of freeloaders loitering around a vehicle that was parked on the street behind the cream pickup, but I couldn’t tell what vehicle it was. It’s a light-colored pickup, I think. So they couldn’t go just one night without company after all.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 4, 1999
The blue pickup didn’t leave till 5:50 this morning. Oh, so now that vehicle’s gonna live there too?

Anyway, the silver car and the cream pickup just left. A few minutes before this, the silver pickup parked in front of our house. This tells me there’s gonna be a lot of company tonight. If it’s parked in front of our house that means they need the whole front of their house and their driveway, which will hold 5-6 cars.

Just like with the black bitch, a part of me wishes Deb had threatened me or made a move on me to give me a reason! Just give me a reason! I would’ve mauled both her and the black bitch had they raised a hand to strike first, even if did up my chances of getting shot.

The silver car and the cream pickup are back. They weren’t even gone for 5 minutes. These two vehicles are parked in front of their house, the van’s deep in the carport, so we’ve got one or two cars coming into the driveway any sec now. I wonder why the van’s been staying deep in the carport. It never moves anymore. Why would they use an old beat-up pickup with squeaky, no doubt dangerous brakes, when they could use that nice roomy van?

Anyway, it’s now their move active time, so on goes the headphones.

Later…

For the second night in a row, the silver pickup either delivered something or picked up something from the house. I couldn’t tell for sure. It’s gone now, though. The silver car’s now in the driveway, but the cream pickup’s still in front of their house. Before the silver pickup left, I saw 3 cocks chatting in their driveway, then they moved to chat by the silver pickup with a guy in a green shirt sitting in the driver’s seat. Then the silver pickup left.

Last night I took one of the big 15x24 inch boxes and packed 7 dolls in it. Since condensing my dolls like this, I have fewer doll boxes. A lot of little boxes can slide around in a car easier than bigger, heavier boxes. Now I have just 3 doll boxes, plus Bailey and Maria who aren’t boxed. In one box I have 6 dolls - Anne, Edie, Christina, Victoria, Rapunzel, and Mystery. In the other, which has 7, are Sunshine & Lollipops, Falling Star, Summer Dream, Giselle, Liselle, Mary, and Angel. Patrice is in her own box cuz she has to be standing upright.

I guessed right about the great, great news having to do with money from his mother. She gave us a check for $5,000. It’s about time, too!

Tom did more yard work today, as well as some work cleaning the pool. Last night I popped the old baseboards off in the bathroom and cleaned the medicine cabinet.

I still say he’s full of shit about having a Realtor out next Monday. I just don’t “feel” it. He says it’s 50/50 that there will be. He just doesn’t have enough free time! As he says, though, it doesn’t have to be perfect for a Realtor and we don’t have to be done with everything that day either, since no one’s gonna move in the same day we call a Realtor.

Later…

The company for tonight is the vehicle that may be the one that banged in last Saturday night and came in softly Sunday night. It’s parked in front of their house. The silver car’s pulled deeper into the carport, so maybe there’s more coming. We’ve had the silver pickup, this reddish Bronco, so maybe the blue pickup’s next.

If the Bronco came banging in, I’ll never know. And believe me, it’s better that way. It keeps them safe from my fury and me from being even more stressed out. I’m surprised the ranchero hasn’t been back since the weekend. Maybe that’s coming tonight, but if not, it’ll be here by the time the weekend’s out for sure. It pisses me off to have to live this way, though, with headphones on at certain times. I feel totally controlled by these little shits! This having to work my life around their shit totally reminds me of the NHA and other places. I don’t want to have the headphones on, yet I have to if I don’t want to listen to any shit they decide to throw at me, and if I don’t want to boil over to the point of hurting them. Remember, we’re semi-suicidal here. These people wouldn’t mind dying any more than most of us would mind winning the lottery. However, I’m not gonna go to jail over a pack of scumbag freeloaders who have nothing better to do with their lives than to harass others.

Later…

The enemy vehicle is gone. I’m going to take a chance and take the headphones off now even though it’s only 9:00, and it could come banging in for a second visit.

Damn! That’s twice I asked him to put the screen saver maker program back in my main menu and he hasn’t. Why do I always have to beg him for things?

TUESDAY, AUGUST 3, 1999
There are 4 vehicles next door right now. What else is new, huh? Anyway, besides the van, cream pickup, and the silver car that lives there, there’s a silver pickup that was parked in the driveway but is now in front of our house. This means it moved to let the van in and out or to let a fifth car in. I’ve got the headphones on now, cuz if they’re gonna be up to badgering me, I don’t want to know about it.

Yup, a 5th car’s here. I just upped and checked. It’s a dark green car I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. I like how I’d be unable to answer if you asked me if it came in quietly or not. Anyway, as has been the case with them for a handful of weeks now, it’s pretty dead over there till we hit the late afternoons. From now till around 10:00 I’ll keep the headphones on.

I was mirroring some pictures that look better mirrored due to where my icons are. My icons are to the left side of my desktop, so if I have a cat’s face extending towards the left, it gets blocked by the icons. Therefore, I mirror it away from the icons.

I also discovered something really cool within this word processor. I’ve been using it for over 5 years now, yet I’m still learning things it can do! You can not only change text colors but you can change background colors, too. You can border text, too. This doesn’t detract from my window color or application background color. You can still see those colors. Meanwhile, it’s kind of cool to type on a pink background with lime green print if I want to.

Tom left me a message that I got when I got up saying he didn’t do anything around here today, but he has some great, great news. Unless next door’s moving with no intentions of coming back, or we’re getting a ton of money, I’m not sure it’s great news. He has a way of having a different opinion as to what’s great news than I do. He either hypes up something he says is gonna happen that’s good, or it never happens at all. Having just come from a visit with his mother, though, my guess is that it’s got something to do with money. This is a classic example of what I mean when I say he’s obsessed with making me wait on him. You mean to tell me he really couldn’t leave a message about whatever it is?

Leona called yesterday to tell us we have been approved for the loan! Not quite as much as we hoped to be approved for, but enough.

Tom says he plans on calling a Realtor Friday and hopes to have them at the house Monday, but I don’t know. We’ve been through this before, remember? How many times in the past has he given a bogus timetable as to when he wanted a Realtor out here? I lost count.

Last night I watched a documentary on spiders, believe it or not, as disgusting as they are. This is because I wanted to see if they’d show anything that resembled those huge spiders Tom and I saw. We still don’t know what they are, and the documentary said there are still thousands of spiders waiting to be classified. That’s scary.

Silver pickup is gone. For now.

Anyway, the closest I could guess is the wolf spider, but I don’t think so. Meanwhile, I learned a lot about the way fishing spiders, tarantulas, trapdoor spiders, jumping spiders, and other spiders live.

I keep forgetting to write about Chyna, another doll I saw on the doll show that’s a possibility for when we move. She’s a beautiful Polynesian doll that’s 24” with long straight black hair and eyes and a pretty pink dress. Not as big as I’d like, but gorgeous. They had her with bent legs like Bailey’s on the home shopping network for $150 and then I found 4 different versions of her online for $200 at the same height but with different outfits. Also, you can get her with straight legs or with her lying on her belly leaning on her elbows. That’s cool! Some sites let you pick out a certain mold, then you pick out its eye color, its hair color, etc. You can also save money by getting a doll undressed so you can go out and buy a dress for it yourself.

Green car is gone. For now.

Later…

Just looked out the window - green car’s back.

Later…

Gone again.

God, I’m getting sick of wearing headphones! This is no way to live. Absolutely no way to live! At least I shouldn’t have more than 3 more months of having to live this way and at least I don’t have to do this 24 hours a day. They are quiet lately late at night and early in the morning. For now, though, I’ll wear the headphones during their most active time of day so I don’t risk really flying off the deep end and beating the shit out of them.

Later…

Now here’s the blue pickup. Don’t Deb and all the other sick assholes living next door ever get sick of having so much company? Don’t they ever feel smothered and want a break? Don’t they ever just want to take a day off and spend time alone?

Later…

The blue pickup’s gone. I don’t know if it’s gone for the night, but I’ll take my chances and go without headphones for now, since this pickup’s never been a problem and I really think they’re gonna confine most of their shit to the weekends and not so soon, either. That may be why that red vehicle’s music was turned down and was even softer the second night it came around. Cuz it’s too soon. I wish I could say that they won’t be a problem from here on out cuz they just want to live in peace like we do and not have any trouble, but I know better. Sadly, they do want trouble, they don’t want to live in peace. They want to be rebellious and turn things into a competition just like the blacks did. They don’t want to get along with anybody. Certainly not us. Peace and harmony just aren’t in these freeloaders’ dictionaries. Anyway, unless there was music from over there that I didn’t hear, they’ve been quiet since the red vehicle’s shit.

MONDAY, AUGUST 2, 1999
I’m enjoying my peacetime till the freeloaders come out to scream up a storm once the sun starts setting, and God only knows what else will go on over there. That’s when I’ll headphone it till around 10:00.

The fact that they choose to hang out in front in their vehicles, rather than in the privacy of their backyard, tells me just how much they truly are desperate for attention. They want to be heard and noticed. They want to make a scene.

I didn’t think to ask Tom how he figures this, but he says that the odds are this house will go to a Mexican family. Good. Let scum be next to scum. They deserve each other. Then they can all yell and scream and blast music together. I laugh when I picture this house filled with freeloaders. Our house is bigger than next door. It’s the same width, but it goes back further cuz of the big back room that runs the length of the house that was added on in the 70s. I can just imagine some Mexican coming out of the bedroom in the middle of the night to get a drink from the kitchen and having to step over the many sleeping bodies in the way. Why do Mexicans choose to live in bunches? Could it be their insecurity? That’d make sense cuz assholes that make enemies so easily typically do feel safer when they band together with people that are just like them.

Later…

Jesus Christ! I go to watch a crime show, but instead I get childbirth. Why is there so much childbirth on TV these days? Everything’s childbirth and I’m so sick of it! When I see or hear kids, it totally reminds me of all the years of misery I spent back when I used to want a kid and knew I couldn’t have that. Just like certain sounds remind me of the NHA. It also gets old, too. Very old. There are just as many people having babies on TV as there are people getting killed.

Later…

The sun’s setting, so I expect the animals to be out any time now. Adult animals, too. They’re so fucking weird, though; hanging out in their cars, rather than on a lounge or some sort of chair in their backyard. If they’d go to the back, they wouldn’t have to worry about one of their many mistakes getting run over by a car, but that may be the best thing that could happen to it.

I’ve got the headphones on, although I don’t feel bad vibes in the air tonight like I have the last few nights. Even so, I’ve only got an 80% accuracy rate. They could surprise me anytime just like the ranchero did. I never got that bad feeling that says something’s gonna happen like I usually do before something does happen. And I thought the blacks were unpredictable and that they had a lot of vehicles coming and going from that house! What a joke! These people have very little predictability about them. The blacks usually had a schedule of some kind and usually confined their antics and company to weekends. Yes, these people have more company and childish outbursts on weekends, but still, you never know what scenes the weekdays will bring.

I took some measurements and found that this house is approximately 40’x40’. It’s square. I hate boring square houses, but the one we’re getting is a nice long rectangle that’s 76’x26’. Almost twice as long as this house. So, this property is about 55’ wide.

I didn’t think to ask Tom his reasons for wondering this, but he said he was wondering if I was having second thoughts about moving since I seem to be more intolerable lately of noise around here. First of all, I’m more intolerable cuz there’s been a lot more noise going on around here and it does make it hard when it’s just outside your window. So, I think I have good reason to feel the way I do what with such noise so close. Also, doesn’t he have it backward? Wouldn’t I be saying things to hint that I wanted to stay here if I was having second thoughts about moving? I thought that the more a person bitched about and didn’t like a particular place, the more they’d want out. Nonetheless, I have no doubts about wanting to move and be as far away from people as I can till God either does something else to badger me or moves people closer and closer to our new house. That and stereos to be made that can be heard from one state to another. I plan to live like a hermit as long as he’ll let me, though.

SUNDAY, AUGUST 1, 1999
Now I can finally write worry-free, I hope. That’s subject to change at any moment when you live next to a pack of sick freeloaders. You just never know with these people. Even so, you have no idea how much I’ve come to love the late-night and early-morning hours. Just like the black’s prime time was typically between 2 PM-8 PM, these fuckaroos reign from around 4 PM -10 PM. This is the way it has been for the last several weeks. Come winter, though, I’m sure that’ll change to something like noon - 6 PM.

I could kill them. I could really kill them! I wouldn’t think twice if I could strike them all dead at the snap of a finger. They’re really stressing both of us out and slowing him down from getting us out of here. Between the freeloaders and that fucking bank, we’re never gonna get this fucking house up for sale! Tom’s had to lose sleep and time to prep to deal with my stresses, anger, and frustrations, but if these fucking freeloaders would just back off and just leave us the fuck alone, we could get out of here faster!

Tonight was surprisingly mellow, but not last night. These people just aren’t going to let me ignore them, the sick fucks! A car I’ve never seen before, but was too dark to make out, came banging in real fucking loud last night at 9:30. Louder than the cock would blast his music. It would’ve woken me up for sure. When I went to the window, it was parked in front of our house (as if it was aimed at us), then some Mexican came and approached the driver’s side, and the music was then turned down, but still too loud. Then the car backed up in front of their house and the Mexican got into the passenger side and they just sat there. I said to myself, what? Did they steal this idea from the Mexicans that were across the street Friday night? Are they gonna have car stereos pull up blaring their music with plans to shut up and take off if the cops are called and claim they don’t know anything about it? Or that it was just someone asking for directions?

So this is when I was sorry to have to get Tom up, who’s had enough sleep robbed from him thanks to these sick freeloaders, but I wanted him to hear it too and see I wasn’t lying, then call that non-emergency number. But by the time he got to the window, there was no car there. However, we could still hear the music which stopped shortly after. He asked me if I checked to see if it was that car across the street, and truthfully, I didn’t even think to. I was so sure it was them, and I still am, that I didn’t think to bother.

Here are a few shocking things, though. The Ranchero visited last night and I never heard the thing come or go. The more I think about it, the more I believe the person with the Ranchero couldn’t visit for a while till last Wednesday. For whatever reason, be it cuz they were away, in jail, they couldn’t visit. But now that they can, they’ll be visiting regularly. Like 3-4 times a week. So when’s the white car gonna return?

Anyway, the kids have come out screaming at dusk, but fine. Just fine. Especially since it’s only short-term and can be fanned out. God, how I wish I could go back to the days when screaming kids and barking dogs were my only noise problems! That’s nothing compared to these bassy stereos! Not when you don’t have kids or dogs living in your house.

I called Tom at work cuz I was concerned for him and had a few questions for him. He said his stomach was feeling better (he always gets what I get, it seems. I had the same gassy stomach. His stress is worries over me going next door, and mine is cuz of next door’s noise harassment). Anyway, I told him all was fine, but did they yell out to him when he was leaving for work? I asked this cuz I saw a hundred kids and adults hanging out on the street in and around the cream pickup, gazing rather intently toward the garage, but couldn’t hear anything over this one kid’s screams. He said no, but his hesitation in answering made me wonder if they did, but he didn’t want to admit it for fear of my reaction towards them.

After he left, the pickup left for two hours, and an hour later, people were hanging out in the silver car that was in its place on the street. The driver’s door to the car was open and all the people milling about started making me very nervous. Again, we’re outnumbered and we aren’t the type to get trigger-happy. They are. And if they really do have death wishes or don’t mind jails and eviction, then they could do anything. So I asked Tom if he thought they were sitting there with a gun waiting to shoot him when he returned since they knew he’d gone out. He said that if they were, they were in for a very long wait, not to go outside, and all would be fine. Will it? I can’t help but have this ominous feeling of doom with these people. Take their calling the cops, for example. It hit me last night that they could’ve called them as a cover. Maybe they’re thinking that calling them will make them look like they’re the victims if they do something to us or the house. Maybe they’ll tell the cops, “See? See how bad they are? We had to call you before about them. We’re the victims and we just had to defend ourselves.”

They sat there for an hour, and the surprising thing about it was that they were actually quiet. Maybe they were remembering that we’re not their only neighbors, but I don’t think they’d mind pissing off others to get at us. Even more surprisingly, that car that banged in last night, which may’ve been a red Blazer or pickup I’ve never seen before, came banging in very softly. It pulled up twice behind the silver car. Never in front of our house.

I also saw something weird at 9:00. By the time I got to the window, I saw a girl walking at the side of the street who had possibly been talking to the people hanging out by the cars. She wasn’t really fat. Not like Deb and Fanny. She was smoking a cigarette as she began walking by the front of our house. She was looking right at our house, which made me momentarily nervous, wondering if they were going to do something to the house when she walked on past it and delivered a sheet of paper to the house to our left on the corner of W. Weldon. Then she walked across the street to the music people’s house and then that’s all I saw of her. I didn’t see how long she was there or where she went from there. I sort of got the feeling she was next-door-related, but if not, why didn’t she make a delivery here? And what was she delivering? Papers that said the people in this house are assholes? I wouldn’t put it past them to do something that childish, but fine. They can write anything they want to and give it to anyone.

So, you could say that tonight was pretty mellow. Almost soundless. Especially compared to last night. If they could be like they were tonight every night, things would be OK, but you know what? I know better. The nightmare isn’t over yet. There’ll be many more stereos to come. Many more. Every weekend is going to be hell on me, and even during the week, too.

Meanwhile, I’ve got to just cope with it. Maybe if I stand up to what God has ordered for me and just take the noise he so obviously loves to have others inflict upon me, he’ll leave me alone more so when we move. I can’t keep waking Tom up. He said I can, that he’ll listen to me bitch about it, and do whatever it takes to see me through this, which I really appreciate, but he has to sleep and get us out of here. So, come late afternoons, I’m gonna throw headphones on and keep them on till around 11:00. Especially on weekends. Also, I’ve put one of my stereo speakers by the bed again and will sleep to my music if I have to. I picked out an instrumental song of Gloria’s that’s very bassy with no obnoxious shrilly sounds like a sax to play over and over if I have to. I had Tom bang on the wall to imitate what these stereos sound like and found a suitable volume to mask bangers cruising about. I just can’t believe they haven’t woken me up yet! They will, though. I know they will. Tom suggested I wait till they wake me before I sleep to the music. OK. Meanwhile, I’ll be sleeping to it real soon.

The only thing that didn’t make sense was why this car that came twice tonight didn’t play its music louder? Why wasn’t there any music from the house? Why haven’t they gone back to all-night gabbing and yelling? Well, they will. It’s just a matter of time, and I’m sure not much time, either.

Oh, I wish they’d just up and decide they didn’t want to live next to us, move, and not come back to do anything to us or the house! That way we could have some peace around here that just might last till we’re gone. I know better, though, than to have such a fantasy. We have more of a chance of winning big in the lotto than we do of them splitting before we do.

I felt like Tom didn’t handle me and my feelings about all this too well. I mean, he did listen to me and all that, but he made me feel guilty for bitching about it by seeming all bummed and stressed out about it, and also, he punished me by denying me sex for yet another weekend. Or so he thinks. Not only do I have no desire to have sex with anyone other than my fantasies and my vibrators, but I’m also done sexually with him till we move. I’m not gonna go through the pain just yet. I’ll wait and put my crotch through it after we move. Once again, I can’t have sex too often or too seldom, and if we still can’t consistently have sex at least once a week when we move, which I know we won’t, I’m done for sex with him altogether. For the first half of our marriage, I was unhappy with our sex, then I became bored with it. If I’ve never enjoyed sex with him yet, for one reason or another, I’m obviously never going to. I’m sexually hexed and the only thing I can do about it is just not have sex. Period.
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