April 1997 in 1990s

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 30, 1997
Gizzy may be escaping anytime soon and if he does, I’ll have to trap him for the third time and put a screen across the top of the aquarium. I’d have to cut a tiny part of the screen, too, to fit the tube through it that leads to his upstairs areas. Let’s see if I can describe this any good. Well, the box that Mary’s cage sits on, sits on top of the aquarium. The open part of the box faces the half of the cage part that’s open. The part where he could’ve always jumped out of if he’d really wanted to. I noticed shortly after he was wheeling, that he wasn’t in his cage. Then, Tom spotted him up in the wooden box. It’s amazing too, that he didn’t freak out and run somewhere, cuz I reached right by him at one point, to check to see if he was in his trap. So, when I saw him in the box, I figured he’d get curious, go explore and escape. Well, he did get curious and explore, but he only walked around the piece of Plexiglas that the box sits on (cuz the box isn’t quite wide enough to rest on top of the aquarium), then walked around the rim of the aquarium, then finally jumped back down into his cage and hopped onto his wheel. I don’t know if he’ll escape or if he’ll just jump up into the box here and there, then back into his cage. We’ll just have to see.

I’m gonna be right about my theory about the fight we had on the first day of his so-called promise. Regardless of how much of it was Tom’s fault, yes, God did make sure we had that fight, cuz if we would’ve screwed that day, and if he’d have cum, I’d have probably gotten pregnant. If I’m OK, that is, but of course, God would’ve made sure I lost the baby. I know I’m gonna get my period on the 1st. That’s how I know this. If I didn’t get it till the 2nd, then that’d really point to something being wrong with me, cuz 14 days prior to the 2nd, was when he got off in me. How can I tell I’ll get it on the 1st? Well, logic is a part of it, I guess. Also, I guess maybe God did sort of answer my prayer, but just a day later, and not nearly like he did with Andy’s teeth. My tits are a little less sore today, but it may not have to do with God at all. That’s cuz the day before your period, your tits and pre-cramps tend to relax and back off a bit the day before. It’s now the 30th, and my body’s doing what it normally does the day before. So, since I’m as sure as can be that I will be ragging on the 1st, I was right about why we had that fight. It was destined. However, I guess something making sure we miss it, is better than sterility confirmations. If I kept getting periods 14 days before we screwed where he got off, that’d be an awfully bad sign. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something wrong with me and maybe God just doesn’t want me to see this at this time, figuring I couldn’t handle it. Yeah, well I don’t see how I could handle getting as far as getting pregnant, just to lose it 3-4 months down the road. If I go to the fertility people in a few years, that’s what I’ll be getting. I won’t be going to get a baby. I’ll be going to get miscarriages.

TUESDAY, APRIL 29, 1997
All locked up. Well, sort of. I had asked Tom to find me my padlock and my combo lock a few days ago. Not surprisingly, he didn’t make any move to find them, no doubt in fear of my locking the hoop net up. He was telling me how that’s vandalism and trespassing. Yeah, well I wasn’t about to sit around listening to the 4 or so different little trespassers that have been spending their weekends at next door’s basketball hoop, which is barely 5 feet away from the house. Obviously, these kids think next door’s vacant. It does look that way more than most of the time. There’s never a car there and all the blinds are down and I think that maybe she’s been away somewhere for a little while, cuz I don’t remember seeing lights on over there at night or hearing car doors as she gets her ride to and from the house.

I told Tom to forget the locks and I took the lock that came with one of the journals my folks sent and used that. However, I didn’t quite manage to get the lock locked, cuz it’s such a tiny lock. Also, that hoop, which has always been quite low, has gotten even lower since the last time I put that metal clip on it right when next door first moved in about a year ago. Back then, I had to stand on a chair, but this time, I could reach it just fine. I could reach the bottom of the net just fine on heels. It’d be more of a stretch for me to reach the rim of the hoop. Also, the net, which is made of metal chains, has been broken since I last played around with it. There’s a part of it that hangs lower, while the other side of the net’s higher.

Anyway, I took the lock, and at first it got tangled, but I managed to snag the two longest parts of the net and slip the lock through the links. I’d assume that it’d take an adult to reach it to get this lock out and it’d take a few minutes. Kids, however, couldn’t reach it, but then I realized something else. I’m not sure and we’ll see if I can get a better look at it in daylight, but a ball still may be able to get through it, cuz of the shorter side. The shorter side hangs free and it might be able to just push the longer side that’s locked, out of the way as it tumbles through. Still, I’ll be much firmer with these little punks next weekend and remind them that trespassing is illegal.

Fucking kids! You know, I’ve never been gladder to be getting my period in 1-3 days and I even wonder if 35 isn’t a fine age to wait to possibly deal with a kid of our own. Tom wouldn’t allow us to go to a doctor any sooner, anyway, so I may as well look at the bright side of the freedom that I’ve got now and will have plenty of for quite some time - I can sleep, the house is peaceful, etc.

Now I’m laughing at both Tom and I and not just Marla. It hit me that there is no such thing as more fertile or less fertile. Less fertile would mean a woman ovulates less than one egg a month and more fertile would mean that a woman drops more than one egg a month. Well, normal women are said to drop one egg a month, as long as they get monthly periods. So fertile is fertile and that’s that. Age does not matter. As long as you have your monthly periods, you’re not any less or more fertile, cuz there’s no such thing unless you’re not getting periods or are on fertility drugs.

My tits have really been a nightmare. I’ve never ever ever had them hurt this bad. I suppose this is God’s way of punishing me for not being strong enough to not have said “no” when Tom first suggested that bullshit promise. Instead, I was a little conspirator and I asked for this. Also, this must be for my ignoring Dr. Bock’s nurse’s call and not letting God get to me or what he has others do to get at me.

At this point, as time goes on from that bullshit promise thing, I think both God and Tom were responsible. God let this happen to play on my emotions and I think Tom knew he couldn’t, but more likely wouldn’t, keep his promise. But why he did it, I just don’t know. I only have theories which I’ve stated numerous times before, but why does he do a lot of the things he does? Why’s he so obsessed with making me wait on him? Why does he get off on going out of his way to move things around, be different, disagree, etc.? It’s like he wants to be the direct opposite of me. The more I want to do whatever, the more he stalls. If I’m not in a hurry for whatever, he is. If I say, “Here. Watch this movie. You’ll love it,” he’ll say it was just OK or that it sucked. He just seems to deliberately want to disagree with me and just repel and go the other way.

I still really feel, deep down, that if it hadn’t mattered to me how much he came, he just might be cumming more than he does now.

I told him it’s OK that he decides when we go to a doctor, but that if this has anything to do with him making me wait cuz he feels he didn’t get to wait long enough to get married, then he’s got to take a good look at himself. He’d need to ask himself what’s more important; a child, or making me wait to either punish me, teach me a lesson, teach me patience, get even with me, etc.

If this is really about the marriage, like I believe it is (among other things), then I’m sorry. He said he only wanted to wait just two more weeks, cuz he bought the house illegally. But then social security cut me off and he married me sooner so I could have insurance. He said it wasn’t my fault and that I didn’t make him marry me when he did. Yeah, well I still think deep down, maybe even in his subconscious, that he had a problem with when we got married and still does, but I’m sorry. He got married two weeks too early. Just two weeks. There’s a big difference between two weeks and 3 years (not the mention the times I’ve wanted a kid before we met). So, if this is what it’s all about - the marriage date, control, patience, evening things out, etc., then he doesn’t really want a kid as bad as he says. Of course, I’ve always known he never wanted sex as much as I did or a kid as bad as I did. He doesn’t want a kid an eighth as bad as I do. He says different people can handle things differently but still want the same things as bad as the other person does. True. He may handle his wants differently than me, but the point is that he’s a man. No man wants a kid nearly as bad as a woman does. He’s acting perfectly ordinary about the kid business and I don’t buy it when he tells me it’s not OK if we never have a child. It’s OK if we do and it’s OK if we don’t, but I still firmly believe he’s having me wait on him and getting a kick out of it. Regardless of our schedules or things that keep him busy or make him tired, if he wanted more sex and to cum more, he would and he could do so. When he gets more serious about the kid, as I get older and start running out of years, then he’ll make his move somehow, some way, whether or not it gets me pregnant. So, he may act typically about the baby thing, but he does not act typically about the sex and cumming thing. Not in the least and I don’t care how old or busy or tired he is.

I see right through his every move and motive and he can call me paranoid all he wants.

Anyway, regardless of how much more I want a child, mid to late 30s is fine for having a baby and I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait for my period! I’ve never wanted a period so bad, cuz my tits are a nightmare. I’m in pain just sitting still, whereas in the past, they’d usually only bother me at their sorest when I was walking fast, bouncing or running. This is ridiculous and kind of scary. How often is this gonna happen? And will it be even worse? Oh, God! That’s a really scary thought, cuz I don’t see how they can be any worse than this.

Later…

I just watched part 2 of a 3-part movie of Stephen King’s. It’s based on one of his books and he’s pretty good, too. A lot like John Saul. All these fucking baby commercials, though! I saw a whole new set of them. They’re really cranking them out! And they’re getting more and more graphic, too, showing pictures of the unborn child, showing the woman having it. Everything on TV is babies and pregnancy. Totally overkill!

Speaking of John Saul, Tom picked up his book Black Lightning which I just started. I’ll also be reading the remaining 4 books of his 6 book Blackstone Chronicles series, too, and he’s supposed to have a new book out this summer called The Presence.

My horoscope says that on Saturday, kids will be on my nerves. Gee, I wonder why?! Yeah, well I’ll take care of them.

Now here’s more proof that God does not love us all equally. Andy told me he prayed for God to take away his tooth pain, till he can afford to have more work done on it and he did. I just prayed for him to take away my tit pain till I get my period and what did he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Well, I always did say and know that God has a little more love to go around for Andy, than for me. Oh well. You can’t make someone love you or give you what you want.

It’s just like with Tom. He’s not ready for a child now. He’s not nearly as serious as I am about having sex more often, cumming more often and stepping up the action towards getting me pregnant and I can’t make him as ready as I am. In a few years, though, he’ll be readier and we’ll go to a fertility doctor, the doctor will impregnate me, and God will take it away.

MONDAY, APRIL 28, 1997
Congrats to Tom! I didn’t think he had it in him and I didn’t think he could or would glare at anyone. Well, those couple of 6 or 7-year-old white boys came to visit last Sunday, yesterday and today. Today, I went out there and asked if they knew those people (at the house), and they said no, just as I figured. I said they shouldn’t play there and they left. But cuz kids of today aren’t taught to listen very well and they came back with another little friend of theirs just as Tom was getting in, he told me on the machine, and he glared at them and they left. Naturally, the rude kids had the nerve to come back for a little while for the third time, later on. Tom also said there was a little girl playing alone at one point, too.

Next time will be it, though, cuz I’ll scare them off for good and remind them that trespassing is illegal.

Got a message from Marla who mainly talked about two things, which were Shelly and older pregnancies. She said that yes, it’s common and very possible for older women to have babies, but that age can be our worst enemy and that the difference between 3 years can be like 300 for the baby-making percentage of the eggs. I don’t buy it. I think that’s mostly hype, cuz our society encourages young pregnancies. I think eggs are eggs and that due to the fact that a woman’s sexual peak is from around ages 35-43, I’d think that that’s when a woman’s more fertile. Even Tom agreed to this, and I told her that I’d be around the same age she was when she started her family at age 38.

I told her that my trustworthy, smart, responsible, logical husband will do what’s best for us when it’s best for us, and to please tell Linda that the reason why I haven’t called her (Andy said she still wants to talk to me), isn’t cuz I don’t give a shit or cuz I have anything against her, it’s just that she can’t tell me anything we don’t already know or that we can’t find out ourselves. Tom looked in his employee handbook yesterday and most fertility services are covered. We won’t have to pay all of the costs.

I told her about Shelly and how we met and she said the following about it:

I was absolutely appalled reading about the women whose foster home you were in. The part about moving you in the night and telling Shelly you had hung yourself is - reprehensible, to say the least, and most likely criminal. At any rate they should NOT be providing foster care. God Jodi, if you have these horrible life experiences you have done a tremendous job of turning out so normal despite them and I admire that. But PLEASE pull the information from your journals (if you were keeping them back then) or write it down from memory and send it to the authorities who administrate foster care so they will KNOW and ACT if they have to.

Jodi, perhaps you should write a book about your experiences in foster care. It could be chronological for those three years you mentioned, describing what you were going through emotionally and physically and the “caretakers” the state placed you with. It could encompass relationships you had with other “staties,” the people whose care you were in, your relationship with your family at that time. People need to know about this stuff, that it happens every day, that some people DO hang themselves because they are too fragile to survive it. At any rate it would probably be very cathartic for you and a reality check for the powers that be. It sounds like you walked a tightrope over hell. Write it so people can’t close their eyes and make it go away. Write it rugged and rough. Spare no details. Document the horrifics and sail with the surmountable. Start by making an outline of the period you want to write about, don’t worry about having it perfect, just get it down. When it’s all down, then you can re-write and get it the way you want it. Follow the Nike mantra and just do it! I’m really glad you found Shelly and she, too, is a survivor. Enjoy the communion!

Well, Marla’s not the first person to suggest I write a book, but again, it seems so overwhelming and the way it works is kind of confusing to me. How would I get this information out there? And where do I get it to? And what if someone tried to sue me for something I wrote about them, cuz I would want to use my real name, other’s real names and tell the truth. And I wouldn’t want my family to know about this, either. It’s easier to just let someone else speak out about the system that won’t change, anyway. They all protect their own, so complaining to the proper people, wouldn’t do any good.

She doesn’t know the eighth of my childhood ordeal, so when she mentions all those that DO hang themselves in the midst of all the hell they endure, I thought to myself, wait till I tell her I jumped out a window!

SUNDAY, APRIL 27, 1997
As figured, I keep remembering more about what Shelly and I talked about. Well, not only was I amazed at how much she remembered me, the house, and wanted to talk to me like I said, but she even remembered some of my clothes! She started to describe some white nightgown with flowers and some dresses, but I can’t remember one piece of clothing I had back then.

Tom and I talked some more about the fertility thing and I misunderstood him about a couple of things. It’s not the kind of invitro Linda had, that I would have. It’s a new technology that’s just getting ready to be more widely used and that’ll hopefully get cheaper soon enough, as well as more available. This technique is even better. When Andy said it took Linda 4 tries, that didn’t mean she had 4 miscarriages, which means that the egg didn’t get fertilized the first 4 times. Invitro wasn’t always guaranteed to take right away, cuz all they’d do is use something to make the egg release, then shoot sperm up there. With this new thing, they take the egg out and then directly fertilize it by injecting a sperm into it, so it’s a guaranteed pregnancy you got the first time around. Then all you have to do is hope to hell you don’t have a miscarriage. Anyway, this is what Tom was talking about us doing if need be.

Andy said it cost Linda 8 grand per pregnancy, but of course, she got her money back on the babies that didn’t get made. I think I’ve always heard that you only pay if they can make the kid and if the kid makes it into the world. If they can’t make the kid or if the kid’s miscarried, you don’t pay.

The other thing is, is that I thought we couldn’t go to a doctor till precisely January of 2001, but Tom said it’s best for us to be flexible and not decide on a date. I asked him if he’d like to be the one to decide on when we go and he said yes, just like I thought he would. I’m sure he would like to be the one to decide this, so he can make me wait for years. I told him, though, to try not to make me wait too many years, but he really does get off of me waiting on him, as well as instilling patience in me. Then he brought up the marriage saying he didn’t have me wait on that. Oh yes. The marriage. The marriage he would’ve preferred to wait a little longer on. I see. So now it’s his turn to make me wait on the baby, cuz I didn’t let him wait longer on the marriage. I’m not surprised.

I asked Tom if he’d go by when he felt it was time for the kid to make his decision on when we go to a doctor, or if he’d at all weigh into it my sheer desire to have this kid yesterday. He said neither cuz there are a lot of factors involved. He said we’ll go when he feels the time is best, for various reasons.

I’m very glad to know of this guaranteed procedure, but I know Tom’s gonna make me wait years before he’ll let us go to a doctor. And also, even if we went right now and they got a fertilized egg in me, would God let it stay there for 9 months? Will he let me have it vaginally? Will he let the kid be OK?

I know we’ll never get me pregnant ourselves, and even though this procedure sounds so promising, it seems too unreal and just too far-fetched to think that I’ll be pregnant and have a baby vaginally in 9 months. Something’s gotta go wrong, cuz that’d just be way too good to be true. There’s gotta be miscarriages in there, or a c-section, me being one of those rare cases they can’t impregnate, etc. You know how it is with me and God, the more common something is and the more I want it, the more I either can’t have it or have to work my ass off for it. It’s gonna be a long hard haul at ever getting a kid, that’s for damn sure.

Meanwhile, I’ve got years to wait for whatever’s gonna be the outcome of this thing, so I may as well enjoy my freedom, cuz I’m gonna have that for quite a while.

Again, just like last weekend, two little boys were playing ball next door. They played for about two hours and I swear, I’m gonna lock up that fucking hoop! We couldn’t see them both, but I think they were both white boys and I don’t think anyone was home. What did they do, just walk up to a stranger’s driveway and start playing ball? Well, it looks like they’re gonna do this every weekend if I don’t lock up that net. It’s basketball season and if they are associated with next door in any way, now’s the time they’re gonna be playing more often till it cools down again.

Later…

I talked to Andy who talked to his sister Linda. Linda really wants me to call her. I told him to tell her I appreciate her wanting to talk to me, but there’s nothing she can really tell me that I don’t already know.

It’s up to Tom. Plain and simple. When he’s ready for us to go to a doctor, we will, and that’s that. It’s not up to me.

Andy said he felt we were just procrastinating. I explained to him again how it wouldn’t do us any good to go to a doctor now with the way he cums so little. But if he keeps cumming so little or cums more often and I’m still not pregnant, then we’ll go see a doctor, and I trust Tom to know what’s best for us and when.

He said Linda said that these things get more expensive with time, not cheaper. Maybe so, but again, it’s up to Tom and I filled Andy in again on the situation for the 20th time since he’s got such a short-term, pothead of a memory.

No, I don’t fully agree with what Tom’s doing, but there’s nothing I can do to stop him. If he is truly controlling how much he cums and is planning to make me wait, then yes, that’s wrong. If this is the case and if he’s not as ready as I am and doesn’t want a kid as bad as I do, then yes, he should come out and say so, but I can’t force him to talk, to cum more often, or to go to a doctor sooner than he’ll allow us to go.

Yes, I do think he should put as much energy as he does into losing weight into having more sex and cumming more often, but again there are a lot of factors here. His mother’s slowing him down along with any progress we could make, he’s older, he’s not as horny and again, I don’t think he’s in much of a hurry to cum more and have that kid in the near future. Even he said it wouldn’t be a crisis if I had my period and that he’s not urgent about this month being no period. Well, I feel the opposite and I understand that it’s a woman thing and that guys don’t feel the same as women do about having kids. Women are always in a hurry for that. Guys take their sweet old time till the last minute and that’s just what he’s gonna do here. He’s gonna either cum more often when I approach the last handful of childbearing years and get me pregnant ourselves with no interference from God. Or he’s gonna do that with God making sure I’m not pregnant, or he won’t be cumming any more than he does now and again, God will be there making sure I’m not pregnant, then he’ll OK a trip to the doctor.

I don’t know how guaranteed this procedure is, and if it’s as sure to win as he says it is, but that’s beside the point right now. He’s waiting. Waiting patiently, all the while enjoying the agonizing wait he knows it’ll be for me. I just have to keep reminding myself that it’s gonna be a long time before we ever do have a kid if God will allow it and that he’s not ready to cum more often (if he can control that), and he’s not as ready as I am for the kid. When he catches up to me, has made me wait enough, and is ready to see a doctor, we will.

Meanwhile, it’s not for sure that we’ll be going to CA, but I guess we’ll be going. So, I talked to Andy and he’s gonna do me a little favor while we’re gone. He’s gonna lock the basketball hoop for me. He’s tall enough to reach it, and if we don’t go to CA, he’ll do it as soon as he can. So, I guess I’ll have another 3-4 weekends of listening to that obnoxious ball bouncing. I just hope to hell they don’t distract the visit with my folks and go playing for hours while they’re here. For the most part, though, we all will be out doing stuff and not just hanging out here at the house.

SATURDAY, APRIL 26, 1997
I realize I’ll be running out of room in this journal to say all I’ve got to say, so I’ll carry it over to the next one.

Now I’ve gone completely the other way around and am dying for my period to relieve my tits. Just when I thought they couldn’t hurt so bad, they’ve never hurt this bad before! I’ve also had some pretty fierce pre-cramps, too.

We’re gonna be bombing soon. When we do so, we’ll leave Bunny outside and take Piggy and Gizzy with us wherever we go. Speaking of Bunny, he’s like a cat, too, besides like a dog. He rubs his chin on my hand as well as objects like cats do.

Another thing I remember about when I was at Dotty’s, is that I only left that house twice in the month and a half to two months I was there. If I’m remembering correctly, I left once with Dotty and maybe Valerie, too, to go to McDonald’s and then that once with Shelly when she and I went to a nearby convenience store.

Anyway, Tom and I had a lovely talk last night and I’ll just get to the point of what he said before I talk around it and get into what my feelings and opinions about it are.

He said that my saying I’ll never have a child is a crock, cuz even if I were right and he was wrong and we couldn’t make a baby on our own, we go to a doctor, they take one of my eggs out, add sperm to it, then put it in my uterus. A loan will pay for it, too.

OK, if getting the procedure done and paying for it isn’t a problem, then God is. He’s our only real challenge and he’s the only one we’ll have to worry about. Again, if something’s so meant to be, it’ll be. If it’s not, it won’t be, and all God has to do is knock them out of me. If they keep implanting them in me, all God has to do is to keep getting rid of them and make sure I miscarried them. The more I want something and the more it’s something that’s common, the more he makes me fight tooth and nail for it, but more so, I just can’t get it. If he doesn’t knock them out one after the other, he could also know of our plan and make sure something goes wrong so I need a hysterectomy before we ever get to seek a doctor’s help.

I asked Tom if maybe God’s making sure they can’t read my PAPs, so he can start cancer brewing there and make sure it’s not discovered till it’s too late and I have to die a slow and painful death. He said no, cuz cancer takes years to grow and he reminded me that his dad’s cancer, which wasn’t discovered till about a year before he died, started forming 40 years ago.

Of course I wish Tom could be right about how sure he is that we’ll have no problems making a kid on our own. I mean, who wouldn’t want to do it the natural way? Besides, it’s only fair. I mean, you’ve got people that are loaded out there like Gloria is and she gets free babies, while a middle-class couple has to pay for one.

How fair, huh?

I know that God won’t ever allow us a child, either by ourselves or by a doctor. Let’s pretend he will let us, though. First of all, he won’t allow us to do so on our own and we will need a doctor. Secondly, we won’t be going to a doctor till I’m around 35, cuz that’s when this new technology, that’ll allow even 70-year-olds to conceive, will get cheaper and more affordable for us. It’s like with microwaves and VCRs. When they first came out, they were very expensive, but in time, they weren’t.

So again, let’s say God will allow us to have a kid. Here’s what we’ll have to go through to get that kid: First, I still think that yes, Tom wants a kid and would be very happy if I were pregnant now. However, no man could want a kid as bad as any woman could, I still think he’d rather wait till I’m between 35-40 and that he’d like to instill patience in me. So, say I’m now 35 and God will allow us this kid with a doctor’s help. It’ll take about 3 months for them to get about 3 unreadable PAPs. Then on month 4, they’ll probably have to do an exam with a microscope instead. Then there are 3 months of testing. Now remember, they can’t just do the in-vitro. It took Linda 4 tries, so it’d probably take me about 8. Let’s say it’ll take me 4 tries, though. That’s the least it could take. That’d mean that it’d take me a year to get the pregnancy that’ll keep till it’s time to be born. That’d also mean, that it’ll take me about two good years of fighting God before he let that doctor let Tom and I have the child we want. If he ever really did. I’ll be about 37.

Tom also told me that as long as a woman has all her parts, and as long as the parts work and aren’t damaged or misshapen, the vast majority of women can be impregnated by in-vitro and it’s very very uncommon that a woman can’t be helped who has regular periods and all her parts, etc. Well, I’m not the majority kind of girl, so all the more of a challenge it’ll be. How many people have one ear? How many people can sing, draw, sign, dance, act, etc.? How many women seeking other women are as feminine as I am? How many had to try for months before they could take the first very small dick in them? How many were with guys that could get hard, but not cum for so long? How many are this short? How many rock to music, have the power to communicate through photographs and have the kind of pitch I do? How many can’t get pregnant?

I know this is stupid, but I’m gonna go into this with the attitude that yes, I’ll have that baby. It’ll just be in about 5-6 years from now. Better later than never, though.

So, since I know Tom’s gonna be wrong, unfortunately, when he says we’ll get me pregnant on our own, this does mean sacrifices, but they’re well worth it. We could take a loan now and move. Or get his RK for his eyes, but we need to keep money available, as he said, for if we need help with the family. Well, since I know we’ll need it, we’ll be here for many many many years, but that’s OK. Whatever it’ll take. If we can’t have the doctor get around God, as I expect will really be the case, we’ll just take the money and move, I guess, but for now, I’m gonna be ridiculous and pretend that a doctor can fight God for us and win.

Back when he wasn’t cumming and we agreed to see a doctor this month, I never ever could picture us going to see a doctor. Well, it turned out that the reason I couldn’t envision it, of course, was cuz we didn’t need a doctor, cuz he came. My point is, is that I can’t see us ever going to a fertility specialist and I’d like to think that that’s a good sign, but I don’t know. I think it’ll be for the same reasons I thought I couldn’t see us going to a doctor for his lack of cumming - believing it couldn’t help us.

If Tom is controlling his amount of cumming, and he always could be, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t let himself start cumming more often until I was around 33 or 34. Right before we agreed to see someone.

Even though Tom doesn’t have the sexual appetite I do, etc., it’s his mother that’ll hold him back from cumming more often and slow down any progress we may make. As long as he needs to babysit our 74-year-old child, take care of her, and be run through the mill by her, he’ll continue to be tired most of the time and unable to cum more often.

Nonetheless, knowing about the technology that’s out there does give me a slight sliver of hope, but it’s not very fun knowing that if I do stand a chance, you’re talking several years from now. To me, to wait 6 years is like waiting 60 years. In reality, though, God’s gonna do one of two things. He’s either gonna make sure something goes so wrong that there’s no way I could conceive, or he’s gonna keep knocking out every kid a doctor implants in me. But for me of all people to get pregnant, stay that way till it’s time for it to be born and not need a C-section is absolutely ludicrous. It can’t happen. I just can’t see it. It’s impossible. Totally out of my cards and not meant to be.

And by the way, I knew those few days I didn’t hear those dogs was just a fluke, cuz I heard them loud and clear during the late afternoon and early evening.

THURSDAY, APRIL 24, 1997
Oh, I’m so pissed, frustrated and sad! I hate God! I really really do! As I knew they would, Dr. Bock’s office called. And God had to make sure that they called while I was in the tub and didn’t step out of the tub till it was 5:00 when they’d gone home. Then I said to myself, that’s fine. I’m not calling. I’m not gonna give God the satisfaction of bowing down to him and his using others to harass me. I’m not gonna keep running to GYNs while he’s up there laughing at how he’s running me ragged and killing me emotionally.

Like I said, there’s always a fucking price to pay for sex. I’m just totally cursed sexually, or my female parts are, and of course, I’m a no-good sinner for wanting a kid. I’m just so fucking sick of his controlling me and my body. I can’t go to GYNs, cuz they’ll never be able to read my PAP (I know this is what the call was about), and I’ll never have a child, DES or not, I can’t fight God and win, so fuck it! Just fuck it! I fucking give up. I’ll just live the rest of my life out just as it is, without moving on, just as God wants. Then maybe he’ll leave me the fuck alone.

And of course, I’ve got Tom telling me he understands. No man could ever understand. And he still keeps on telling me I’m going to have a child. Well, of course he’ll tell me that. He loves me. He’s supposed to tell me this. Just like with Kim. She’s my friend. She’s supposed to be positive and tell me the same thing. I could have a hysterectomy and they’d still be telling me the same thing.

The point is, is that I know Tom will never cum more often and that I’m sterile. I don’t care what he or anyone else says, I know the truth. I also know that there’s nothing I, Tom, or any doctor could do to fight God and change his fate for me. He’s got his mind made up and that’s that and I’m sick of dealing with this fucking shit! I don’t care anymore. I’ll just get the period I know I’m gonna get (the pre-cramps have started), and just deal with it and accept it.

Mary told me she’s OK with sterility. Emily, from MA told me the same thing, and I’m gonna be just like them. I refuse to live my life feeling like it’s incomplete and like there’s a void. I’m not gonna cry over this for the 30-50 years I’ve got left on this earth. God’s not gonna “sentence” me to a life of misery. I can’t win. I can’t have a child. But I refuse to let it beat me down anymore.

Whatever controlled me back east did follow me out here, but what am I gonna do, keep moving? I don’t think so. That won’t let God let me have a child and make my own choices in life and with my body. I love Arizona and this is always going to be my home. Maybe we’ll leave this house someday, but we’ll always be in Arizona unless I kill myself first. Or if God decided to take me much sooner. Sometimes I wish he would. My life is over here, anyway, I may as well move on and I can’t move on here in this life.

Sometimes I fantasize about plunging a knife straight through my uterus and ovaries. God would love that. Yes, he’d love for me to help control and destroy my female parts, just like he has.

Tom doesn’t understand and God doesn’t care. I understand but fuck caring anymore. There’s nothing to try for, to change, or to care about anymore. Just doing my time here on earth, living with what I do have, till my time comes to die, however I shall die.

I have to try my damnedest to put on a happy face for my folks if I don’t want any trouble, but I just realized something. Tom’s mom is really gonna drive them nuts. Or if she doesn’t, my folks aren’t gonna be too happy when they have to hear all about David and Evie’s kids and not much of anything else. If that’s not the bulk of what she’ll talk about, that’ll be at least half of what she talks about.

Later…

Shelly had said, “Wouldn’t it just blow our minds if we saw each other?”

Oh yes! Oh, how I’d love to see her right now! But I never will. I’m still pretty certain I’ll never be back there and if so, I don’t know if we’d have the time to see her, but I would try to make the time. And I’m sure she’ll never come out here. She did say she lived in New Mexico for a while, as I forgot to mention.

Another ironic thing is that when I lived in Deerfield, she was living only 10 minutes away at the time and used to constantly go into Deerfield. We must’ve brushed arms several times and didn’t even know it. I really needed people like never before when I lived there out in nowhere land and it’s amazing how you could know someone for barely a month or so, then not see them for 15 years, yet love them dearly and wish you could see them and just run up to them and throw your arms around them.

Andy spent his last night here last night and we emailed Marla. I typed while he dictated.

Shelly and I must’ve been really destined to reconnect, cuz when I went to show Andy how I found her, there was no Shelly L listed. They had just updated their numbers, names and addresses. If I waited just one more week to look for her, forget it, cuz I’d never have any other way to know she was in the Northampton area, let alone her new last name. Just one more week, maybe even a little less, and there’d be no way I could ever find her for sure. It would’ve been more impossible than it had been until I did find her.

I saw the trailer over there yesterday but didn’t hear anything.

There’s something else I haven’t heard, which is totally weird and bizarre. I haven’t heard those dogs over there for 2-3 days now, but I’m not stupid. I know the pig didn’t talk to them. They didn’t decide all on their own that maybe it was annoying to their neighbors. No one shot them. They didn’t decide to keep them in the house all the time. They didn’t give the dogs away. The dogs didn’t drop dead on their own. Aliens didn’t abduct them. God didn’t get them off my case, etc.

Tom says he doubts Mike will ever be back, cuz of how long he’s been gone. Oh, he’ll be back. If they don’t get back together, he’ll be back sometimes. What I wonder, is when is she gonna get her new bass-blasting piece of scum of a boyfriend? Well, when she does, I’ll be right there to take care of it, as much as the new beau won’t give a shit, either. In fact, she’ll probably tell him to make sure he basses in and out on account of me.

I know there are other little tidbits of stuff I wanted to mention, but can’t seem to think of them right now. It’s not always easy to relax my mind and organize my thoughts. Not when I get so upset and furious.

I did get a Bob letter today. Nothing new, of course.

I hope Shelly’s already got stuff on its way in the mail to me. I don’t know for sure if she really will mail anything, but I hope she does. That’d mean so much to me and pictures of her would be great. She mentioned sending pictures and looking through her photo album to see what she’s got from that time (1982).

I told Marla about Shelly and about what Tom and I discussed earlier, but I’m too tired to get into it now.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 23, 1997
I filled Tom in on my chat with Shelly. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was either on Aerobid again or a manic depressant, since I’ve gone from being psyched about my talk with Shelly to being depressed over never being able to have a kid, and back and forth.

I saw the true story of a paralyzed woman who walked in a marathon. If a paralyzed woman can walk in a marathon, why can’t I have a kid? Huh? Which one’s more normal and common? Being paralyzed and walking in a marathon, or having a baby?

Of course, Tom told me again that he knows I don’t believe it, but I’m going to have a baby. Of course I don’t believe it, cuz my husband is wrong. But he is my husband. Therefore, of course he’s gonna tell me that, whether he believes it or not. He’ll always tell me that. Even when I’m old and gray.

Andy will be over in about an hour.

TUESDAY, APRIL 22, 1997
Andy’s here now. He got here just after midnight and checked out Stevie stuff on the computer till he went to bed, which was at 2:45. I don’t think he’ll be up as early as 8:30 like he said. He knows he’ll be up before me, though, and to be quiet.

For the last two nights, I went to bed at around 5 AM and woke up at 9 AM wheezing. Then I’d go back to bed till 2 PM. So, I’m hoping that I don’t have to go through this for the third time.

Andy brought me a couple more coffee coupons, which is always nice.

Not much else is going on here, but besides being bummed knowing I’ll get my period in about 9-10 days, and being nervous and excited about my parents visiting, I’m really having mixed emotions about his mother. At the same time, I love that woman dearly, she’s helped us out, we don’t want to turn our backs on her, she’s running Tom ragged. He spends half his time taking care of her and even Tom said he agreed she was silly to keep the house. I want to shake her and tell her, “Please keep this a secret, but give Tom some slack. You’re gonna kill him. He needs his sleep, we need more time together, we need to do work around our house, and if we stand the slightest chance of making a baby, we need him home and awake more often.” But I can’t do this. Not yet anyway.

Tom brought up a good idea, but if it’ll work is questionable. He said he’s gonna get an appointment book and schedule his jobs for her and us, to free up more time. He said he is going to have a talk with her and tell her that he’s gonna have to schedule the projects he does for her. I just hope that she’ll get the message and that Tom can stick to this plan and that it’ll work. Again, there’s nothing like having family to help you when you’re old, but I wish she’d meant it when she said she didn’t want to burden family members and I wish she’d get into an apt. That way she can call the landlord to fix her stuff. Not bother Tom. My biggest question is how long will this go on? Will she need Tom to take care of her for 5 more years? Or even 10 more years?

If God isn’t as cruel and as unfair as I thought he was, does plan to let us have a child, is he just waiting for his mother to die? And again, when she does go, will I be 40? How the hell’s Tom gonna juggle a family and his mother? If God does have a change of heart, she’s gonna have to understand that we can’t take her on, too, unless she moves in with us. Or she’ll have to get an apartment or hire a handyman if she stays at the house.

Like I said, we are a family of 3. Only difference is our child lives in its own house. I know this is so mean, spoiled and selfish of me, but sometimes I wish she’d get that disabled where she did have to dump the house and go to a home or something. But if that were to happen, God will just sic someone or something else on us to tie up half of his time and it won’t be our own kid. With a kid, he’d still work, of course, and I’d be home all the time, I’d hope, so it’d take up most of his time and all of mine, but that’s different and that’s OK. I just wish we could live more for us. Most things are what we can do for others. Well, I wish most things could be for us, for a change, then for others. I want us to live our lives and have our dreams, not cater to other people’s needs so much of the time. It’s not fair that we should be taking care of her half the time. We should be taking care of our child and each other full-time, then deal with her. With a child, Tom would get even less sleep and I wouldn’t get shit for sleep, but a child may be the only way to get her to back off and stop being so silly and come to her senses.

Later…

I don’t believe it! I mean, I absolutely don’t believe it! It all started when I was out de-dutying the patio. Tom came out and said he didn’t answer the phone, but there was a number on the caller ID box that had a 413 area code. I knew that was MA. Then he went and read me the rest of the number, but it didn’t recognize it. So, I thought it could be Minnie or that Paula got a phone and called. Then for one fleeting moment, I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be funny if that letter really got to the right Shelly and it was her calling? So I ran in to listen to the message and it was her!!

So I called the number she left, and as much as I hate the phone nowadays, we talked for about an hour or more.

Unlike Paula, she’s really doing well for herself. She talks very well and is well off financially, with a husband and two sons. She lives in Florence, just outside of Northampton in a 3-bedroom, 2-story house. Her mom lives with them. She says she feels very content and pretty much has all she wants.

She said that a few days before getting my letter, which was forwarded to her new place (she just got married and is now Shelly N), she was telling someone how sick she is of just getting bills and that she needs a pen pal. Then she received my letter.

She said she thought it was a joke for a minute when she got my letter, cuz she thought I was dead. Those psychos, Dotty and Valerie, told her I’d hung myself when they surprisingly took me to Valleyhead. Yeah, that’s something they would do. They took me and only a very few of my belongings. They kept most of my belongings, including a guinea pig that I’d had there. I never knew what became of the pig, but it turns out that Shelly took it and had it for a couple of years. That was nice to hear that she did that.

We were both just so shocked to be talking to one another. I told her I had searched for her on and off for a good 10 years or so but didn’t know to look in the Northampton area. She and her family weren’t in Springfield for very long. I told her how I ended up finding her, which she was curious to know.

I didn’t know what I was in for. I mean, I didn’t know if she was gonna be ditzy, shy, quiet, not very nice or willing to talk to me, or what, but she was as psyched as I was to talk, as talkative as I am, and she’s really doing well for herself. She said she too, went through many tough times and was filled with rage and confusion for a while.

She said her kids helped her and that when she breastfed her first kid, it was the most calming thing for her and that she’d filled her missing link in life. Unlike most abused kids, she seems to be doing pretty well as a mother and not sorry she had kids. She has a 10-year-old boy and a 3-year-old boy and is trying for a girl. I then told her that that was my missing link and that my husband and I wanted a child. I told her we’d like to move and do things, but if having a kid meant giving that up, that’d be fine. I told her how Tom and I thought the responsibility may be good for me and that I have the romantic notion of having and sharing a child with the man I love so much, but that that’s not meant to be. She told me that she had a 36-year-old friend who only got a period once every 7 years, who was told by the doctors that she couldn’t have a kid, but then did have one. Yeah, but that’s a very extraordinary case, and when something extraordinary happens to me, it’s not usually in a good kind of way. So when she got into her complete, happy family, I was a bit envious. I have a happy family, but not a complete one, and I reminded myself of that period I’m going to get in about 9 days.

The most shocking thing of it all was how much more she remembered about the foster home than I did, and how well she remembered me. She remembered so much about me.

She remembered just what I looked like back then, the guitar playing, the singing, Charlie’s Angels pictures all over my walls and so much more. She remembered more than I could. She’s still 5’ 9”, but is about 180 pounds with brown hair and eyes. I thought she had dark blond hair and blue eyes, but not according to her.

She remembered me to be fragile, soft, shy, scared, depressed, yet very sweet and pretty. She said she loved my hair and used to brush and braid it a lot, which I sort of remember (it was dyed jet-black back then). She said she never forgot me and how she used to protect me. She said she couldn’t and didn’t try to look me up, though, cuz she couldn’t remember my last name and of course, those assholes told her I was dead.

She said that the only reason why she didn’t leave that place the day she arrived there was so she could look out for me, but as soon as she was told I was dead, she ran.

She said she told many people over the years about me and that one time, she was in some museum when she saw a picture of a female playing the guitar. She said it only showed the guitar and up to the chest of the woman, but that it reminded her of me, with the long hair, etc. She said my guitar playing and singing used to really calm her and soothe her nerves, but I don’t remember doing much singing or guitar playing there in that fucking place.

Both Valerie and Dotty bullied me, but Dotty was afraid of Shelly and Valerie wouldn’t mess with Shelly, cuz she respected Shelly for being as tough as she was.

So, before I get into our memories of this rotten place, this is what Shelly told me she’s been up to - she ran from that house. Then she was doing some work at the Air Force base in W. Springfield for a while, as an adult, and was here, there, and everywhere for a while. She wasn’t a slut or a hard-core druggie, but she drank and did weed and partied a lot. She wasn’t in Springfield for very long and she had spent time out in Boston. She also did topless dancing, too.

The first guy she was with was a great guy, she said, but he was a helicopter instructor and he died. She had her first kid with him.

Anyway, most of her family has always lived in the Northampton area and as I figured she would be, she’s very blunt and open-minded, too. She’s never really been with a woman, but I think she’s kind of experimented all the while having her heart set on a guy. She has gay friends and I told her my best friend was gay.

There weren’t too many things about her that I didn’t expect. Not too much was different about her and her life, either, except that she’s got kids. Everyone else has kids but me, so what else is new?

I told her how great Tom was and how he’s such an optimist, while I’m a pessimist. I told her that Tom believes something will work out, until and if he sees that it doesn’t and that I don’t believe something will work out, until and if I see that it does. She said she understands cuz she’s a pessimist too, and says we have to be after all the shit we’ve gone through. You live what you learn, she says, and said that yes, she’s a good mom, but has made mistakes and tries really hard not to be like her father was. I didn’t tell her I feared being like my mother was.

She says she now gets along with her dad well, loves him to death, but that he was a classic typical male. A violent drinker. Her mother was described as my dad usually is. Calm, quiet and passive.

So, her parents got divorced and she didn’t take well to her new stepmother, so she rebelled. That’s when she was put in the house and also, someone reported her father’s physical abuse. She’d skip school and says that due to that, she can’t write too well, but that she’d try and would send out pictures of her and her family. I told her that after I got that, I’d send some to her with a letter and she told me to write and call all I want. I told her to write and call all she wants, too.

I think I’m gonna take a break from writing about my talk with Shelly till later. I was gonna record a movie that’s about to come on, but I think I’ll just watch it live and deal with the fucking baby commercials.

That reminds me - Kim, who has it in her mind that she can only have a kid if she’s married, feels the same way I do. It also breaks her heart to see shitloads of pregnant teens all over the place. I told her that not only can I relate to that, but every other fucking commercial is about home pregnancy tests, messages about child abuse, and just always baby and kid-related. It’s a constant reminder that’s rubbed in my face, of how unfair and cruel God is, and about the child I can never have.

Then after she was mentioning her female problems, Kim said, “Wouldn’t it be funny if you were the one who could have kids and I couldn’t?”

Well, I can’t and I don’t think she’ll be “allowed” to, either. She’s not a kid or unfit for that, but if one of us ever does conceive, it won’t be me.

Later…

I decided I’d tape the rest of the movie. That way I can zap through the commercials. There were only 3 baby commercials in the last 45 minutes, so that’s actually pretty low.

Before I get back into Shelly, I’m kind of crying right now. Yes, it’s all about how I’m going to get my period and how life isn’t fair and how I just want a baby. I just want a baby! But God won’t change his mind and his unfair ways. He doesn’t care about me or what Tom and I want. When I first felt like crying, I told myself that maybe a good cry would help. That way, I won’t cry so hard when my period comes, if I start letting it out little by little. By that time, the tears just came flowing, without caring if I was giving God the reaction he wants. Without caring if he was laughing down at me.

I’ve gone back to my old coffee. This is cuz my lungs weren’t doing too good without caffeine and also, cuz my tits are still sore, anyway. It’s really weird, but they are.

Gizzy’s using his new tubes occasionally so that new addition hasn’t gone to waste.

Now back to Shelly. She said something about setting up the kid’s computer and possibly getting AOL. We’ll see.

There were a few things about that house that I didn’t remember, but she did. She said that she wasn’t Dotty’s foster child. She was the reverend’s (I forgot he was a reverend) foster child. He was Dotty’s brother and he lived on the second floor of this 3-story house. I know all the houses in that area were old triple-decker houses and that there was a Spanish lady with a young boy and girl on the third floor. According to Shelly, though, she hung out downstairs while her brother (Dotty’s) was gone during the daytime, but that’s where we’d hide out and sleep and there was no third floor. She doesn’t remember the Spanish lady and her kids. She said in the early mornings, she and I would go to her room on the second floor. Did we? I thought Shelly slept out in the living room on the first floor, and Dotty and I were in the two bedrooms on that floor. Then, early in the mornings, we’d go up to the third floor and sleep in the Spanish lady’s bed till around noon. Right after she went to work and her kids went to school.

Meanwhile, Valerie, who was black, was at the house on and off. Dotty, who was part black, part Hispanic, was always there. Shelly mentioned something about a lot of people going in and out of there (maybe friends of Dotty’s?), but I don’t remember a lot of people. Shelly also said that right before I left, there was another girl there named Shawn, who wasn’t there very long. I don’t remember this, either.

She also remembered too, that there was hardly ever any food in that kitchen there and that she called her dad who brought us a couple of boxes of food. This I don’t remember, but she said we were really pigging out on this food (this was when I was 85 pounds).

I also don’t remember her throwing rice at Valerie (something I’d never dare do, cuz I’d get killed for it, but that’s something Shelly could get away with), then refusing to pick it up, then me sweeping it up. She said she felt bad for that; me sweeping up her mess, so she got me some candy for it, cuz she had some of her own money.

Speaking of money, with Anne and Harry, I got and spent my allowance, but Dotty never let me have my allowance.

Something I’d forgotten about till she mentioned it was how her father, or someone, brought her white rabbits. I don’t think they stayed there too long, though.

As I remember more about Shelly, like she said I probably would, I’ll write it in. For now, though, I’m gonna go listen to music.

MONDAY, APRIL 21, 1997
Tom’s gonna be really tired when he gets home, but will go to bed, then we can have some time together tomorrow night. His mother continues to run him ragged. I mean, she’s halfway as needy as a child, with things always breaking. And you can’t just simply replace what’s broken most of the time, cuz that house is so old, that you can’t always find old parts that it needs. Yet she still stubbornly clings to that house and has others, mainly Tom, take care of it.

Still, we love the dear old lady and she gave Tom quite a treat to take home to me today. She gave me about 22 books, but there are only about 10 of them I’ll like. I just started one too, and this is great timing, cuz I’ve been wanting something to read and I have no idea when we can go to the library again.

SUNDAY, APRIL 20, 1997
I just sent my folks what will be their last letter till they get here.

I called Larry too, who said it was a bad day. He sounded awful.

Then I called Tammy and she said that the reason why mom and dad hadn’t called much was cuz when they did, Larry didn’t seem to want to talk. So they decided to back off and let Larry do the calling. Tammy’s gonna tell Mom and Dad to casually tell Larry, without bringing us up, why they chose to let him call, so he doesn’t get the wrong idea and feel like they don’t care or don’t want to deal with it. That’s what I thought was the case, too, until Tammy explained this to me.

Anyway, Tom was originally gonna just bring Mom to church, but now he has to fix her lock that broke, so who knows when he’ll get home.

I haven’t seen Gizzy go up to the new tubes yet on his own, but if he doesn’t, maybe he’ll like it better if we move the tubes elsewhere. We’ll see. He’s been on his wheel forever. All last night and today he’s just been wheeling away.

I’m still doing OK, but am bummed at the thought of having to be forced into my period. I’m trying not to think about it till I get the period and have to deal with reality then. It’s hard, though. It really is. We just wanted a baby and we can’t even have that. Meanwhile, God couldn’t care less and he’ll just go on allowing one unfit person and teenager after another to have all the kids they want.

Later…

Oh, fuck! They’re in season next door for their ballgames and parties. I heard some kid, or kids, playing ball over there and now I wonder, what kind of party are they gonna have tonight? The hotter it is outside, the more these people love to be outdoors and it’s basketball season and they’re black. Blacks and basketball go hand in hand, so now I’m sure I’ll be hit with a monthly party from over there once or twice a month till around October.

Later…

They didn’t play for very long and there are no cars over there, so that’s OK. As long as it’s not constant, ball-playing will be OK every now and then, cuz in the back with the fan on, I can’t hear it. Also, it can’t wake me up. So hopefully, if Mike stays out of the picture, maybe there won’t be parties and if there are, they’ll omit the bass. It’s the bass that I don’t want to hear. An occasional ballgame and loud-mouthed talking won’t kill me.

When I talked to Tammy about Larry, she said Larry needs to get on with his life, cuz that’s what his son would’ve wanted. Yes, his son would want that and he is getting on with his life and will continue to, but I don’t think that’s right of Tammy to say he needs to get on with his life. Everyone’s different and everyone goes at their own individual pace. Also, like Tom said, the first year is often the hardest, cuz you have to go through the first set of holidays without the loved one you lost, their birthday, etc.

SATURDAY, APRIL 19, 1997
Before I get to the great news, and yes, yesterday turned out to be a far cry better, that wasn’t Mike across the street. He said the house is in escrow, but that the guy that lives there is black. He said there was a black guy and a blond girl over there. So, that’s two rap-blasting blacks in Jeeps we’ve had?

OK, now for my good news. I did the right thing, so I thought, by taking the note down. Then after Tom got up, we got to talking. Again, he said it was his fault for breaking the promise, he’s sorry that he overestimated himself, etc. Then I ended up showing him the note and he said, “OK, let’s go screw.” I was like, what? You can do that? We can do that? Well, we did do that and he got inside right away with no problem and he came, too!

Talk about someone picking me up and pulling me instantly out of the rotten mood I was in! Now I really realize that he was sincere about breaking the promise. He didn’t mean to and I should’ve known this all along. Well, he’s right when he says I’m negative and always assuming people are lying to me or manipulating me. This may have been a major breakthrough to breaking me of my defensiveness and negativity, though, thanks to him. Together, we fought back and won. What I mean by that is, yes, I believe that there’s something that’s been trying to block us from succeeding. I still don’t know if it really is God, the devil, a spirit, etc., but then I began to wonder. Could Tom have been sent not only for us to love each other, but to help me fight this thing off?

You know how it can sometimes take years to figure out the reasoning behind certain events, well, I thought of a possibility. In my mind, and I don’t care what anyone else says or who calls me crazy, but something cursed me and really had it in for me good back east. I left it behind when I came out here. Then I began to suspect it found/followed me here at the time Scott fucked me over. I know everyone has bad times, no matter where they are, but old and familiar patterns were reoccurring. I was starting to slowly spiral downhill, after Scott’s shit and then those kids that lived next to me in the second apartment I had on Bell Rd. were really beginning to drive me nuts with their music, company, door slamming, etc.

Then I met Tom. Tom agreed that some people are more sensitive to both psychic experiences and being controlled and/or influenced by God or the supernatural of whatever kind. What I realized was this - I’m afraid of this shit and easily intimidated, controlled and influenced by it. Tom’s not. So, maybe something good up there connected us also so that he could help me fight them off together. Who knows for sure? It’s just a theory, but I guess fate is still gonna be fate whether or not we’re together. There’s only so much we can do together for each other or us both when it comes to higher powers.

So, after he came, I wondered if we were destined to have that awful night on the 17th, to stop him from cumming, cuz it knew that was my conception time. Or, if it knew last night was my time and it had us have the fight to stall us till it was the right time, figuring he couldn’t get off two days in a row (not that I could ever believe “it” would change its mind about allowing us a child). This is when I still thought I was 13 days after my period. Then when I looked at a calendar, I realized it was 14 days after my period, and I realized that yes, the fight was to prevent a baby. It was too late last night to make a baby. I’m usually on a 26-28-day cycle. More so, it’s usually a 27-28-day cycle, so if the right time is right before the egg pops out, that egg would’ve had to have said hello 24-48 hours before he got off late last night. So, if I’m OK, and if God or something isn’t really in our way, there’s no way we could’ve gotten me pregnant last night, but at least we had fun and at least Tom did wonders for my mood. It was instantly that he brought me from feeling sad, angry, frustrated, hopeless to happy, content, etc. We fought back and won and did what we wanted to do and nothing stopped us. It wasn’t easy for me to fight back. Not since every time I do rise and put up my fists, I get slapped back down into place, but I did it. We did it together.

Whatever it is that’s had a hold on us (I say us, even though it’s me, cuz we’re an “us” here), did try to stop him from cumming. Besides the fact that it was a wee bit too warm, he almost didn’t get off. Every time he seemed to struggle with going over the edge, was when I could sense its presence. But I kept saying these 2 words over and over again in my head; fight and win, fight and win. That backed it off, so we could do what we wanted to do and had set out to do.

Later…

I’m washing sheets today, but anyway, I got a message from Kim. Tom’s taking a day off from all his hard work and is at the racetrack, so when he gets back, I’ll have to ask him what the caller ID box said when she called. She called at 8 AM our time and I went to bed at 2 AM. But he didn’t leave till probably around 10 AM.

Anyway, I expect and understand that getting my period will be hard, so for the next two 2 weeks, I’ll have to keep reminding myself that I knew better. That I knew we were too late and I knew I’d get my period.

Amazingly, I woke up at 106 pounds today, but I’ve had coffee and an apple. I’m sure I’m now 108 pounds as usual.

Later…

Got a letter from Kim. She threw in some Spanish here and there and I understood every word very well. She’s now dating a dentist. I hope it works out for her.

I’m washing sheets today.

Later…

Kim just called and she kept me on the phone for a damn hour. Still, it was nice talking to her. She’s having her ups and downs. More female problems, but is happy with Walter, the dentist she’s seeing that’s 20 years older than her. She said she gets a kick out of how people ask, “Which way?” when she tells them there’s a 20-year age difference. She says she tells them, “Well, he’s not 7 years old.”

Now this is weird. I offed the caffeine, yet my tits are a bit sore. Oh well. At least they shouldn’t be nearly as sore as they were, but as we get closer to my period, we’ll see. I still feel so much better, even though I’m gonna be ragging in two weeks, but I feel bad about accusing Tom of botching up the promise for the 17th. It wasn’t him. It was definitely God or whatever the hell is so determined to hex us sexually and keep us from being parents. If we had done it on the 17th and if he had gotten off, I’d probably have conceived if all’s OK with me, so it made sure we had that fight to stop us.

Tom, who had been up since 10:30 last night, went to bed a couple of hours ago, but before that, he was sweet enough to say, “You said that you thought it was too late when we did it yesterday, but I can try today if you want.” I told him no, it’s OK, he can get to sleep and we’ll just have fun as soon as we can.

At least he was nice enough to remember it and ask me what I felt was best. It’s so amazing how last night, he just took me by the hand, pulled me up, and made me feel so much better. I guess we were both hurt. I was hurt cuz of God and what I thought Tom was doing. And Tom was hurt cuz of how I thought he hurt me deliberately and cuz he overestimated himself. Yes, you could say we’re opposites on that. I tend to underestimate myself, while he tends to overestimate himself.

Tom didn’t win anything at the racetrack today, but he had a lot of fun and he brought me home an awesome present! Well, actually it’s for Gizzy, but it’s fun for me, too. Normally, it costs $13 - $19 for a set of 4 curved tubes. And about $5 for a T-tube or a straight tube. Well, at the grocery store, he got a straight tube for $3 and a set of 4 curved tubes for $5. This is a great deal!

So let me describe what I did. Well, as you know, the base of his living quarters is in the aquarium. There, he has his water bottle, his wheel, and his trap lying on its side with the door open, which he never uses to burrow in. There are tubes leading up from there, just past the top of the aquarium, on top of Piggy’s old burrow, to Mary’s cage. There are two holes on both sides of Mary’s cage for tubes. The other one had that wheel that Gizzy couldn’t use, so that’s where I put the new tubes. They’re kind of in the shape of a backward S, but the top part of the S is straight cuz that’s where the straight piece is. So, now he really has multiple levels and from the very bottom of his living area to the very top of it, is about 4 feet long.

The only time he was up in the new highest level, is when I put him up there and I haven’t seen him use it yet on his own. I hope he does, though, but I don’t know, if he’s not asleep, he’s so obsessed with that wheel. He sometimes sits in the middle of the tube, though (the tube that Mary gave me), but maybe he’ll sit up top. We’ll see.

So, Gizzy’s got 1 T-tube, 1 straight tube, and 8 curved tubes. Both cages are clear glass and clear plastic, but out of all his tubes and connectors, the colors he has are red, yellow, orange, purple, green and pink.

It was pretty funny when I noted to Tom how Gizzy made a duty up in his new tubes, then Tom said, “Yeah. That’s cuz you scared the shit out of him.” Yes, us snapping on the new parts did freak him out for a while.

Now, I’m gonna go do the dishes, make some popcorn, then check out a movie.

FRIDAY, APRIL 18, 1997
I’ll start some writing while I wait for my TV dinner to cool. Can’t talk to him, cuz he’ll just deny what I have to say or turn it all around on me, so I’ll talk here.

I awoke with a dismal, depressed, hopeless feeling, but what else is new? I didn’t expect to bounce back in a day and when I do bounce back, things are gonna be very different. God wouldn’t have let us have a kid, anyway, so why put myself through all the problems that go with sex? We’ll just be on our own sexually, cuz I’ve reached my fill and snapped. I can’t take his games and teasing and lies pertaining to sex anymore, then be further humiliated while he sits there and denies it. I’m not gonna give Tom and God the satisfaction of hurting me anymore. They’ve hurt me enough. Between Tom’s games and lies, and God hexing my sex life in one way or another all my life, then denying me a child, I just cannot take it anymore.

Later…

OK, I just ate a little, but due to being so upset, I don’t have much of an appetite.

I couldn’t believe some of the things Tom said last night to pin the blame on me. He said that he was virtually certain we’d never have a kid cuz I won’t let it happen. Then he said he couldn’t believe some of the things I said to him and said they weren’t true. We’re never gonna have a kid cuz of God. And if it weren’t for God, who knows then? With the way this guy’s always got a problem and is so obsessed with playing games, you just never know what would’ve happened if God weren’t in our way. I think that if I had gotten pregnant, it’d take years with the way he is and with how little he cums.

I’m sorry, but I didn’t deliberately do anything to botch up last night. And if I did, I’d say so to both him and this journal. I did all I could. It was he who was too soft and who just couldn’t get into it, it was he who wasn’t lined up right, it was he who had to play this game and break his word to me without a care in the world for my feelings and emotions. He just had to do this and he had this whole thing mapped out from the get-go.

If he knew he could cum three days in a row and if he knew he wanted to cum three days in a row, why didn’t he just do it? Why’d he have to promise to do it? Cuz he knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t and that he wanted to play with my head. That’s why.

I just want to retreat into my own little world where no one can hurt me any more than they already have. I just want to be left alone with myself and my mind. In my mind, I can imagine and fantasize about a full-time normal sex life and a child. I may wish that I could have these things in real life, but that isn’t real life. It’s simply a dream and dreams are just dreams. Well, I’ll go to Never Never Land and stay there, cuz reality sucks and reality will never change.

This morning he had the nerve to try to hug me. I told him I needed time. Then a few minutes later, before going to bed, he told me he was sorry for getting mad at me for wishing I’d done things differently and that he should accept me for how I am, cuz he loves me and I’m who he married. At first I thought that was nice of him. Then it hit me. I didn’t tell him this, but the only reason he said that to me was cuz he obviously hoped I’d say to myself - I should accept him for how he is, cuz I love him and married him. So instead of wishing he’d change, have sex with me more often, cum more often and keep his promises, I’ll just forget it and accept him as he is.

Well, the bottom line is this, I’m done trying to fight God and having God punish me for it. And I’m done being hurt, teased, played with and pissed off by Tom. I can’t do things to stop God from denying me a child, but I can do things to stop Tom from doing his shit to me.

He said in a few days we’d sort out our very existence together (nothing to do with sex or his wanting me to leave, though), but there’s nothing to sort out. I’ll always love him and be with him, but I’m not gonna allow this relationship to be fucked up by problems with sex.

Like I said, I don’t want to can sex. I don’t want to not have a child. However, I don’t have a choice and I must do the right and best thing. We can never have a child, says God. We can never have a happy, normal, full-time sex life, says God and Tom. God and Tom will not hurt me anymore, says me.

Tom says he thinks that I either consciously or subconsciously botched up yesterday’s fucked up sex, but that that had nothing to do with the promise in which he’s at fault and responsible for breaking. Well, I knew he’d be at fault and responsible for breaking the promise, but why would I either consciously or subconsciously botch up something that I wanted to work? I wanted nothing more than to look Tom in the eye and say, “I’m sorry. I was wrong and you were right. You did keep your promise.”

I just wish I knew what was motivating him all this time. Does he really not want the kid that bad? Is it something he doesn’t like about me? What is it?

I still believe, too, that God has a part in his ways when it comes to sex. Even if he really didn’t mean to break his promise and even if he did try his best, God had to punish me for going against him. He does not want us to have a normal, happy, full-time sex life. He does not want us to have a child. Once again, if he hasn’t sterilized me, which I know he has, why can’t he at least have let me have a normal, happy, full-time sex life? Why does he have to add insult to injury? It’s like a bonus punishment, on top of an already huge punishment, which is not allowing me a child, no matter what I did.

Then Tom said that this probably happened (after saying it was his fault in another breath), cuz of my negative attitude and my presumption that this would happen. If things always happen the way we assume and expect them to, then how come I got married? How come I saw Larry in 1993? How come I got an ear canal? How come I’m in Arizona? How come I live in a house? How come I’m not on disability? How come I’m addicted to computers? How come I got over never being a singer or with a woman?

Like I told Tom, my days of fighting for sex and getting pregnant are over. Then he said that that’s what he always told me should be the case. Meaning, that sex and a kid aren’t something you’re supposed to fight for. If a couple isn’t meant to have a normal sex life or a child, that can’t be changed and vice versa. Some may be able to fight fate to a degree and weasel a child or two off of God with fertility specialists, but they and their kids are gonna have to pay dearly for it, if that’s what they want and if it’s worth it to them.

It’s a family curse, and I still think God hates Jews. He has to, or else there wouldn’t have been a Holocaust, etc. If I had been from a non-Jewish family and if I hadn’t been from New England, or couldn’t do well with music and art, then maybe things would’ve been different. God definitely has some hang-up with miscarriages, kids dying and hexed sex lives in my family. My mother had a miscarriage, Sandy and Larry lost two kids, even if one hadn’t been born yet (Sandy was 8 months pregnant and lost the baby, Sarah Ann, in a car accident). Then you got two sisters with hexed sex lives and I wouldn’t be surprised if there are more people in the family with sexual problems and/or abnormalities.

From what Tammy’s told me, she’s either never been able to cum, or she does very rarely. Bill can’t rise since coming down with Lymphoma. In my case, it took Ron three months to get in there, I couldn’t get Al in there, I couldn’t get the right woman, Tom wouldn’t cum, and now this. Making sure Tom would make sure he plays his games, teases and gives me sex part-time, and making sure no kid comes out of it. I see a pattern here. One that spells many words such as curse, sign, meant to be this way, meant to be childless, not meant to be normal, punishment, unchangeable, etc.

It was really stupid and rather naïve of me to think that maybe I was able to conceive after my last visit with Dr. Rugg. Just cuz I have all the parts and get regular periods, even though they’re light, doesn’t mean shit. I didn’t get pregnant when I was in my early 20s. I didn’t get pregnant the times Tom came (and he sometimes did so in the right time frame), so this tells me I am sterile for sure.

I get a kick out of how Mary said that maybe God’s got some child out there who needs me. Ha! What child? Is God planning on offing David and Evie and having their kids come here? I don’t think so! And if he did off them, they wouldn’t be coming here.

Let’s just put it this way, punishment or not, I couldn’t handle a kid, anyway, and I wouldn’t want Tom running around breaking promises he made to the kid. So together, God and I shall punish me and deny me a child and I’ll go along with and aid his decision to leave me childless and I will suffer the loss of this child he’s denied me and just dream about it. After all, it was only a baby I’ve been denied, right? Still, I’ll do right by God, quit trying to fight him, live with and accept fate, no matter how much it hurts and maybe he’ll start to bless us in other ways. If I’m this awful person that God thinks doesn’t deserve a child, maybe he’ll reward me for going along with this attitude and decision. I don’t have a choice, anyway. He wants me punished, so OK, I’ll punish me, too. I won’t have any sex and I certainly won’t have a kid. I’ll keep getting fatter and I’ll just be a nothing and a nobody, and I hope he kills me soon enough, so I can move on. There’s no moving on here in this world.

Continuing to add insult to injury, God’s gonna make sure they can’t read my PAP since he just has to put a price on any sex I do have. And for my so-called dirty, wrong dream of having a child that I used to fight him on. He knew I was planning on having sex and trying my hopeless fight against him yesterday, so he made sure I bled as easy as I have been since I got married.

First of all, this lady did not look like a physician’s assistant. She was young and kind of reminded me of a young Debbie Gibson. Not that she really looked like her, but she looked like a senior in high school. She had a beautiful figure, straight blond hair just past her shoulders and seemed friendly enough. She didn’t talk or joke as much as Gloria did. That’s Dr. Rugg’s first name.

The nurse weighed me at 111, then she came in to do the exam, which was the least uncomfortable ever. She asked me if I was on birth control, if I was sexually active, and if I was trying to get pregnant. I hesitated for a moment there, cuz I wanted to be careful with what I said, so I quickly said, “Yeah, soon.”

Then she grinned for a second there, but not at me, cuz she had her head turned to the side while she was writing.

Then she asked me if I’d ever had a sexually transmitted disease, not that she thought I did. Then she said she was curious as to why I bled so easily and said I did have a discharge. I said that I thought it was common for DES daughters to have a discharge and that some women do bleed easily. She said that was true and that’s when she learned I was a DES daughter (I thought she already knew).

She said she thought everything would be OK, but that she’d call if there was a problem. I didn’t tell her this, but she can call all she wants and I don’t care if there’s a problem, cuz I’m not going back.

Lastly, Andy didn’t need his pants hemmed. They didn’t have his size, so his boss said to take a pair in to be altered and that they’d reimburse him. Great! I hate to sew.

Later…

Congratulations. I hope I’m happy now, is what I’m telling myself. What I just did is sorry proof that I’m so used to sexual bullshit, being controlled, failing, and being slapped back into place by God, that I expect it and I really do ask for it. I should’ve known better a long long time ago, but what do I do? I continue these hopeless, losing fights against God and fate. I don’t know how much Tom hurts over this or if he really meant it when he said he didn’t like to see me suffer, but I left Tom a note saying: Still feel sorry about yesterday? I know I do. So since we said we’ll love each other forever and don’t like to see each other hurt or suffering, why don’t you wake up, eat, digest, keep your promise for today and tomorrow, cum, put the baby in the oven, together we’ll fight God and win, and I’ll be patient, calm, still, and try not to pull your dick off.

It’s like - who the fuck am I kidding? Do I have this disease of the brain or something? Why do I keep setting myself up to fail and fall? Why do I keep asking to get hurt and thrown up against walls? Does my deep subconscious like to try for things that are impossible and that’ll get me nothing but feelings of failure, hurt, anger, sadness and hopelessness? What’s wrong with me? Why did I leave that note? Of course, I expect that he’s gonna say no. But still, why do I dig my own holes and throw my own dirt over myself?

Another thing I forgot to mention is that you have no idea just how mad I am at God, too. He just had to let this happen. He just had to interfere. He couldn’t have just said, “Aw, just let them do what they planned to do. It means so much to them. Especially to the wife. I mean, if I’m gonna be so low as to punish them by denying them a child, I can at least let them have fun,”

But no. He just had to add insult to injury and help mess it up for us.

Also, last night, not only did I want to beat the shit out of Tom like never before, I wanted to cut myself like you wouldn’t believe, but it was Tom’s talking to me and my parents’ visit that stopped me. Talk about a strange turn of the tables, huh? Most of the times I cut myself, it was cuz of them or stuff they allowed others to do to me. Yet this time, it was cuz of them and their upcoming visit that stopped me.

Later…

Now this is weird. Two houses away from the one that’s directly across the street from us has been for sale. Tom said it’s been for sale by owner on and off. Well, I was just in the back room, when I heard bass and went to see if it was next door. There’s no one next door, but I could’ve sworn I saw Mike pull up his Jeep at that house. I caught a quick glimpse of the guy that got out of the Jeep and it looked like it could’ve been him. What? Did he buy that house to be close to next door? God, I hope not! Anything’s better than him pulling his bass up to the bedroom window and so close to the house, but must I listen to him pass by the garage every day? I want him out of the area completely, so I hope to hell he hasn’t bought that place. I mean, really!

Later…

Uh-oh. I know we sometimes get no mail, but I sure hope the fact that we have no mail today has nothing to do with a little complaint that was made. If so then, why now? I’d think that he got the complaint yesterday or the day before. If this guy starts fucking with our mail, then he’s gotta really not give a damn about his job or getting fired.

The Jeep is still there, but if he did move in there, that Jeep sure looks better across the street and two houses away than right next door at only 3 feet away.

Later…

Tom’s still asleep and the Jeep’s still there. Meanwhile, I did a couple of loads of laundry.

I can’t wait till he gets up, cuz I’m so curious to see his reaction to the note I left in the bathroom. My guess is that he’ll go along with it, after all. This way he can tease me some more, but there’s no way he could cum both today and tomorrow. In fact, I’m sure it’ll be the same scenario. He can’t get in there. Well, he could, but he won’t. And if he does let himself in there, he won’t cum. Not a chance. He doesn’t get over things too quickly (aside from his games). He gets over things quicker than he used to, but still, he may not even want to bother tonight. He may feel the closeness/sex isn’t worth the tease.

I can’t believe I haven’t seen that trailer across the street, not that I’m complaining. This is the longest time, though, that’s passed without it being there.

I just thought of something unfortunate. If that is Mike living over at that house, he may play his music even louder. As loud as that fucking Pinto, just to piss me off. And maybe to piss her off, too, next door. And if he cranks it up while he’s pulling weeds or something, it could still be heard in here just fine. At least there’s no basketball hoop over there and also, I think he’d hire someone to do his yard work.

The bright side of it is that Jeep would be so much easier to egg over there and not be suspected here. He’d think that one of his new neighbors did it, or just somebody at random, but I don’t see how he’d suspect me, then egg our house or something for it.

THURSDAY, APRIL 17, 1997
In about an hour, Andy will be calling when he gets out of a meeting he has to attend. Caro’s is turning into Coco’s. The restaurant he works at out in Sun City. Meanwhile, he’s going through training and they’ve sent their Sun City Caro’s workers to other restaurants around the area.

I’m to wake Tom up at 3:30, then we’ll be leaving at 4:00 for my appointment.

Then, it’ll be time to come home and get fucked over by own husband who would otherwise do just about anything for me. Why? Why does he feel such a need to do this? Am I really that bad of a wife or a person in his eyes? What did I do wrong, according to him, to make him feel he needs to do this? I just can’t think of anything, therefore, that tells me that this is just pure pleasure that he gets out of doing stuff like this to me. I’m just so sorry that he feels he has to do this. It’s sad that such an otherwise stable, loving and great guy could get such a kick out of my obvious sad and angry reaction to being burned like this.

It’s partly my fault, too. Not to the degree that he’ll be at fault, but I asked for this. As soon as he made this promise, I should’ve come right out and immediately said, “No. No promises. Just cum when you can and that’s it.”

I can tell that he’s not looking forward to this, but that he is looking forward to it at the same time. He hates the pressure of this timetable and he doesn’t even want to cum three days in a row, even if he could. On the other hand, he’s all psyched up for the fight. Maybe he somehow figured I’d can the sex completely if he did this to me, so that’s what’s motivating him. This is either some kind of punishment or a lesson he’s trying to teach me. Or both, aside from the pure joy he’s gonna get out of my hurt and angry reaction. Like I said, though, maybe he’s counting on my cutting the sex out by his doing this and that’s what he wants and hopes for, so he can get me off his back about the lack of sex, etc.

I can tell you one thing for sure, though, these last several days without sex, have been the most relaxing for me. There was no stress over wanting it and feeling not good enough when he wouldn’t touch me or bummed cuz he was at work or asleep. There was no feeling he was putting other things before fun, closeness and time together.

Sometimes it really is easier to not succeed and to throw away your dreams (especially when they’re impossible), than it is to keep fighting and fighting. That’s why I stopped the diet. Cuz I knew I wasn’t gonna lose the weight and the more I tried for no reason, the more it stressed me out. I will never again put forth effort into losing weight or having a baby. This is all up to God and in his hands, anyway, so what could I do about it? Like I said, a good 3-4 days of starving may get a few pounds off of me, but I don’t know if I even want to do that. Like I said, not trying can sometimes be best. It’s like this - I’d rather smoke and let it kill me than go through the stress, pressures and pains of driving myself crazy with trying to quit. Same with the baby. Why lower and humiliate myself by going to doctors and getting nowhere while God’s up there allowing unfit people and kids to get pregnant? I shouldn’t have to work at something that’s supposed to be natural.

My body and life are for God to do with as he so pleases and as he so sees fit. Not me or Tom.

I’m not as nervous as I should be about what Tom’s about to do to me, but I know that it’s gonna really do a number on me and our relationship. How long will it take for me to get over how hurt and angry I’ll be? What will his excuses be? How much will he try to pin the blame on me for his intentionally and knowingly lying to me? This is what I wonder?

He did get caught up on his sleep yesterday, but today he’ll be getting only 6 hours of sleep. This is what he’ll use as an excuse for starters. He told me he slept well yesterday, but now that’s gonna change to something like, “Well, actually you woke me up and different things woke me up several times, but I just didn’t want to tell you, cuz I didn’t want to worry you or make you feel guilty.” If anything woke him up (cuz I know how well he can sleep through anything), it was his own guilty conscience. Or his self-amusement over what he’s gonna do to me.

OK, well the next time I write will be after the appointment and after he’s broken day 1 of his promise.

Later…

It’s over. He broke his promise, just like I knew he would, and in the ways I knew he would. I hope he’s happy.

When we first started, I could tell right away he wasn’t into it and that there was no chance that he’d cum, cuz he was so soft. Then when he tried to go in there, he wasn’t lined up right. Then I pulled his dick too hard, which I didn’t mean to do and was sorry for, to try to line him upright. Then we started again and ended up with the same results.

That’s when I snapped. I could sense God up there laughing at me and his sheer determination to botch things up, as well as Tom’s. I began crying in fear and sadness over being so teased and controlled and went off on Tom, telling him I knew just what was going on.

He still had the nerve to say he was gonna stick to this bullshit promise, so we tried again by having him go up top. Naturally, he couldn’t get in there that way, either, and said he was too mad cuz of how I went off on him earlier.

Then he went out to watch TV to clear his mind.

Then he came back in and said he had time to reflect on it, was sorry that he overreacted, and then I told him again how I felt, but appreciated his apology. That’s when he snapped, saying I said mean things to him when he wanted to move on and had intended to keep his promise (bullshit!), then he said, “OK, I’m breaking my promise.” He said it so matter-of-factly, too, like it didn’t mean a damn thing.

So, everything played out just how I knew it would, except for one thing. He actually did apologize for breaking the promise. Not without implying that he broke it cuz of the things I said and did, though, but he did do just what I knew he’d do - say he tried his best, didn’t mean to or intentionally break his promise, then on and on with my being negative and saying mean things to him. So, he did blame me and said he tried his best and didn’t mean to break his promise. Then in the next breath, he says he doesn’t blame me.

Now, here’s what really happened, but of course, we don’t expect him to admit this part, do we? He deliberately botched up the angle and then blamed his reasons for breaking his promise, yet said it wasn’t my fault, just like we both knew he planned to and would do, all the while saying he tried his best. He’s just so obsessed with teasing me and playing with my head when it comes to the issues of sex. Then he turns around and implies that it’s my fault. And cuz I accused him of botching up the angle, he accuses me of it. He says that cuz I was so negative about it, I botched up the angle, cuz I set my mind up for this, anyway.

I’m sorry my husband thinks I’m that naïve to not see the truth and not see what his true intentions are, but all his denial in the world isn’t gonna make me believe that he didn’t botch up the sex and look for the perfect opportunity to break his promise.

His saying, “I made the promise cuz I was sure I could carry it through, even if I met resistance from you. I broke the promise. It’s my fault,” doesn’t quite cut it when he intended to break this promise. He doesn’t want no full-time sex life or a kid, he wants to tease me with sex, while he denies it, then says I did nothing wrong in one breath, then says in another breath that our problems with sex are cuz of me.

I know that God and myself had a part in this bullshit, too. I didn’t say no when he first made the promise, we tried to fight him (even though he planned to break his promise), God made me pay for it. I’m the one feeling hurt and angry and Tom’s not the least bit upset that he broke his promise. That’s why he was in such a cheerful mood all day. Cuz he was psyched to break this promise and get a kick out of my reactions. And that’s why he stressed the other day that he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. So that he could try to make me believe that. He doesn’t want me to believe, or rather, know for sure he’s playing with me, so he can keep on doing it, but I know better. It’s way too obvious.

It doesn’t make sense for us to have gone from working at getting him in there, to getting him off, to doing other positions, then back to not being able to get him in there. Not unless someone’s (or something) deliberately making sure that happens.

Well, like I said in my last entry, I’m sorry my husband has this dark side that makes him want to tease, hurt and anger me, but you know what? God and Tom will never get the chance again to mess with my head when it comes to sex. My days of “working” for sex, a baby, or anything else, are over!

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16, 1997
Well, the problem with the misdelivered mail should be resolved for once and for all. Now if there was only a way to resolve those damn dogs for once and for all, but I know better! God wouldn’t allow that. There is something I could do about it, but the problem with that is that I couldn’t remain anonymous and Tom would probably make me feel guilty for it forever and it’d just be him and them against me and vice versa. The reason why Tom’s afraid to complain against someone is cuz he fears they’ll complain in return. Maybe. But the dog situation would be worth it. Besides, what could they complain about us for? Our weeds? Big fucking deal. It’s just that for some reason, Tom sees neighbors as about as high and mighty as most see God.

Anyway, I called a new 800# and a nice girl took my complaint and gave me a case number, in case the situation doesn’t change. They swear confidentiality and I explained to her that 1-5 times a month, we’re getting mail that belongs to N. 21 Dr. Not to mention that we’ve gotten other address’s mail, too. I also told her that it’s obvious that our mail is going elsewhere. Yesterday we got another piece of mail to that same address that the card was sent to from Colorado and I’m sick of this shit. I told her I called the local PO once or twice and that they said something would be done about it and it wasn’t. So, this could either make the situation much better or much worse. It all depends on how the mailman who’s gonna receive the complaint from their supervisor takes it. This time, though, he won’t know which house complained, not that I think he knew that the last time. On the other hand, I did leave him a note once. Regardless of that, though, he’ll know it’s me. People always seem to find me out and I can never seem to remain anonymous. It’s just like with that knock on the door the day the cop got his letter. Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if that wasn’t his wife. Who the hell the kid was, though, beats me.

The girl said that if the situation didn’t improve, I can call Internal Affairs which is higher than the PO. So, if this guy doesn’t take well to the complaint, figures or knows it’s me, doesn’t improve, or even gets worse with his reading skills, I will have him fired.

Also, Tom did the coolest thing with my screensavers and wallpapers! I mean, it is neato! Better than I expected. See, I thought he was gonna make it so that each time I enter my world, there was a random wallpaper that never changes again till I leave my world. Well, he did do this, but guess what else? I thought the screen saver would be the same randomly chosen one each time it activated itself, but it’s not. In other words, all day today I’ll have the same wallpaper unless Tom needs to go into his world when he comes home, then I go back into my world, or when I log in tomorrow. However, each time my screen saver kicks in while I’m working today, it’ll be a different one. Sometimes you get the same one, but more often than not, it’s different.

Later…

Oh, I don’t believe this shit! I’m 110 fucking pounds and it’s been nearly a week that I’ve been on my diet and I’ve followed it properly, too. Then again, I can believe it. I went against God and tried to lose the weight he wants me to gain. Fuck dieting! Like I said, I’ll just keep gaining the weight and live with it. I can’t speak for what works for others, but for me, the only chance I’d have at losing weight would be to starve. Maybe. And that’s a big maybe. You can’t fight God and win. I want to lose weight. God says no and God’s the one that wins. I want Tom to cum 3 days in a row. Regardless of whether Tom says yes or no, God says no and God’s the one that wins. I want a baby. God says no and God’s the one that wins. There is no control whatsoever over my body or my life. This body and this life belong to him. It is not owned and operated by me and what I do with it is not up to me.

Later…

I’m kind of laughing to myself now, seeing that I said, “Fuck dieting” and then ate chocolate cakes and a hotdog and now I weigh 108 lbs. See? For the most part, whenever I’ve lost weight, it’s by not trying. Still, I know I’ll be steadily at 110 soon enough, then steadily at 112, and so forth. When and if God decides I should lose the weight, I will.

When Tom went to take care of his mother today, she sent back an article in the paper with him about handwriting analysis. It’s all about how handwriting gives your personality away.

TUESDAY, APRIL 15, 1997
Well, the car left quietly next door yesterday, whoever it was.

I put Bunny outside a little while ago and am just waiting for Tom to come home.

I know he was going to stop at his mother’s to check on her and to give her the tapes I have for her. She said she liked all the Beatles’ songs when I was over there. I told her I’d pull out all I’ve got and tape it for her. I filled the ends of the tapes with classical songs of Linda’s since I didn’t have enough Beatles stuff to fill a whole 90-minute cassette. I also gave her the tape of the album Trio with Linda, Dolly and Emmylou.

Tom’s also gonna pick up a few groceries and stamps to mail our taxes, that letter to “Shelly” and other bills.

He’s picking me up decaffeinated tea. I have tea, but it’s not decaf. I want to cut out not only the caffeine but the sugar, too.

Today, I’ll be finishing one of the two library books I got.

My husband’s gonna be fucking me over royally in just two days. Why aren’t I nervous? Again, I guess it’s just cuz I know to expect this of him. I guess it’s better than being nervous or not knowing he’s gonna fuck me over.

Later…

I broke down and weighed myself. These 108 pounds are sticking to me as well as my split ends do. I know this diet’s not gonna work. Nothing’s gonna work, cuz God doesn’t want it to, cuz he now wants to control what I weigh as well. Yeah well, as soon as we see that I’m right about this diet not working and as soon as I try starving for about 3-4 days before my parents get here, then after they leave, that’s it. Fuck it. I’ll just keep gaining weight and learn to live with it. If that’s what my owner up in the sky insists, fine.

Speaking of my master, he’s gonna get me for what I did earlier. A few days ago, I got a birthday card that’s supposed to be for N. 21 Drive, but since our mailman still can’t read, or doesn’t care to, I checked it out. It was from a girl in Colorado to her mother. So what did I do? I sent the daughter a weird letter, claiming that I was her ma’s friend and I mentioned her address and birthday card, too. That’ll really confuse the hell out of her. On the other hand, I’m sure the daughter will realize right away, unless she’s really damn stupid, that the card was misdelivered. I thought Irene was at that address? Guess maybe she moved. Or died. She seemed pretty old. The name the card was going to was Kay. The daughter was Michelle.

I forgot to have Tom mail out Tammy’s pictures today. He went to the post office to get stamps and mail our mail, but now the poor guy’s gonna have to make another trip.

I thought he was going to get tape to stick the bathroom carpet to the floor. Probably hasn’t had time on top of taking care of his mother. Tomorrow he’s got to take her to get blood drawn, but says he’ll still be able to get caught up on his sleep. Yeah, right. I still believe he loves to tease me when it comes to sex and a kid and he always will. He’ll make sure he gets up and claims that he couldn’t sleep or he has a bad belly.

I wonder, though, what he’ll use as his excuse for breaking the promise? It’ll either have something to do with how tired he is or something he’s got wrong with him, but it’ll more than likely be cuz of something I did or said. That and the timetable pressuring him.

What really burns me up is how he can so boldly look me in the eye, and promise me this bullshit, so smoothly, without a care in the world about how this is gonna affect me. He just has to tease me and lie to me. He just has to do this, but why? What did I do to him? Or is it that he just gets that much of a kick out of saying he’s gonna do shit that I know there’s no way he can do. If he could do it, God wouldn’t allow him to. But maybe God would allow him to. After all, God can let Tom squirt me like hell and still make sure we don’t make a baby.

I wonder if he could be feeling pressured or jealous over my parents’ upcoming visit and if this is his way of “getting me” for it? He hasn’t shown or said anything negative about my parents’ visit, though. In fact, I think he’s looking forward to it. He had no problem going to see Goldie and Al and I know he’d have no problem if my brother or sister came to see us or if we went there. It’s something about Kim. Is it cuz she’s a woman? I don’t know, I mean, he knows I’m not the least bit attracted to her. I think that his beef with Kim was sheer jealousy. He gave that away one time when she came to Phoenix the second time (I didn’t see her), but when I was working out, he had said, “Oh, you want to look pretty for Kim?”

Of course, that didn’t have a damn thing to do with why I was working out. I worked out cuz I wanted to.

I got my Snoopy and cactus labels. That was fast! They’re really nice, too!

When Tom got home, he and some other dude on his shift got an award for their hard work and he also got a balloon, a picture frame with a digital clock, and a caramel apple lollipop. I put the picture of Piggy and Bunny sitting outside on the chair in the frame.

I’m going to be waking Tom up at 8:00 and tonight he says he’s gonna work on the screen saver and wallpaper.

MONDAY, APRIL 14, 1997
OK, now I can fully cover yesterday’s visit at Ma’s, etc. After we chatted, he took her to church and we washed her car and then ours. They needed it and they still need vacuuming, but we’ll do that some other time.

Then, after he went and brought her back from church, we went out and got something to eat for lunch. We took the food back to the house, though.

Shortly after we ate, we left and went to the library. It looks like I may have another author I like. Her name is Barbara Michaels and she seems to write a lot of ghost stories and thrillers like I like.

Tom also set up the computer to dial the library’s computer. The same one we use there at the library to look up books. We found that several libraries have the new John Saul books I want, so after I finish the two books I got yesterday, we’ll call and see where those books are and go get them. There are bound to be copies checked in at some branch or another.

Later…

It is so beautiful out there right now. Of course, those fucking dogs have to ruin the peace with their fucking barking.

Anyway, Tom did something wonderful for me and it took him no time at all, too. I told him I thought it’d be neat to have my wallpaper and screensavers come up randomly every time I log into my world. You know, the Gloria, Norah and Arizona pictures I have that I change weekly? Well, he did this, but he’s gonna make it more of a surprise for me. Right now, whatever the random screen saver is, will be the next wallpaper. So, tomorrow he’s gonna set it up where I don’t know which picture I’ll get for both wallpaper and the screen saver when I enter my world and the picture of the screen saver won’t necessarily be what the next wallpaper picture will be.

Amazingly, as we get closer to the three-day bullshit, I don’t feel the least bit nervous about it. Maybe that’s simply cuz I know what I’m in store for. No three days of cumming and certainly no baby.

I had a nice and rather funny thought, though. I pictured us finding out I was pregnant right when I found out my parents were to be out here on May 9th and then breaking the news to them and his mom at dinner on the 10th. That’d be the perfect place to do that, too, and Tom and his mom being there would’ve been perfect, as well. His mom would say how happy she was, while my folks would’ve said absolutely nothing. That’s cuz they wouldn’t dare say what they really thought about it in front of Tom and his mom. It’s just amusing to think of how they’d have to strain to keep their mouths shut. That would be such agony for them and so incredibly hard.

On the other hand, as soon as I was alone with one or both of my parents, I’d have to hear all about how they doubted me and had no faith in my being able to handle it and be good at it, face to face.

If I had ever gotten pregnant, I’d have just let Tammy tell them. Hey, they said in their letter they didn’t want to hear about babies, so if God changed his mind (not that he will and I know that), they wouldn’t hear it from me.

Better they are told that kind of news over the phone, cuz that way they can be hung up on when they start getting all negative and prejudging me.

Some car I’ve never seen before pulled up next door. A burgundy sports car. I heard her and the kid get out of the car, but I didn’t see if she was with a woman or Mike and if that’s his latest vehicle to drive. They had their music on very softly. At least I think they did. I couldn’t tell cuz at that same moment that they pulled in, that beat-up Pinto went flying down the street and the music was sooo loud. Next door has never played their music that loud and believe me, they never will. Not as long as they live next to me.

My horoscope said to watch out for trickery and lies on the 16th. I think they mean the 17th-19th. I still just can’t imagine for the life of me, his cumming three days in a row. I know I said that about his cumming in the first place, but I just cannot see it, any more than I can see a kid. It’s just too much too soon. Like he could, and like God would let him go from cumming once every week or two to cumming three days in a row? And me getting pregnant, too, on top of that? Impossible!

If there’s any good in this it’s that I know not to get my hopes up. If I were sitting here thinking how wonderful it’s gonna be that he’s gonna get off three days in a row and of the possibility of getting pregnant, I’d really have further to fall. I mean, I’m gonna be angry and hurt enough at Tom (and God), as it is.

So far, the only thing he said for me to do to help him is to let him get all caught up on his sleep on Wednesday.

Later…

I got up this morning at 5:30 and am now tiring down.

There’s to be a good ghost movie on at 8:00 and if I stay up to watch it and don’t go to bed till 10:00, that’d be OK, cuz I’d like to be up at least by 10:30 from tomorrow and on through the 19th.

Andy will be sleeping over next Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights and now he wants me to hem a couple of pairs of pants for him. Yuck! He’s gonna come over before my appointment on Thursday so that I can pin them to where he wants them hemmed, with him wearing them.

We did our taxes today and we’re glad that we can pay them on time. Last year, we owed more than we do this year and it took us months to pay up and we had late fees added on.

SUNDAY, APRIL 13, 1997
I have decided to cut out all my snacks from the diet plan he made up for me, but I don’t know. I still think I’m gonna keep gaining weight and that there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Yesterday, Tom and I set up this wooden lamp I made in 6th grade on top of my stereo. I like this so much better than the flashlight. I wish I’d thought of this years ago. It’s a dim fluorescent light and it lights everything up better and I don’t have to wave the flashlight around onto everything I want to see when I’m changing CDs or worry about batteries dying. This bulb should last for several years. I like bright light for reading, writing and drawing, but I like it pitch dark when I’m listening to music or sleeping.

Yesterday may have been a productive day. Tom kept his word about getting things done around here, but the day was shitty as well. Nothing I wrote in my previous entry sunk into Tom’s head. He simply denied it, turned it into an attack on me, etc. There’s no point in talking to him. Talking to him gets us nowhere. All it does is start fights and turn him off. He just says I’m doing what I say he’s doing or he says he’s doing it cuz of something I’m doing. He says it’s not my fault that the things that put him out of the mood for sex, put him out of the mood for sex. Yeah well, it’s awfully hard for me to not feel like I’m to blame and I do take it personally. Then he jumps down my throat for not listening to him, but it’s OK that I’ve asked him nicely a million times to do certain things and he doesn’t listen. He just does whatever he’s gonna do. He’s so obsessed with disagreeing with me and in some ways, there’s just no compromising with him.

Today we’re going to go over to Ma’s, bring her to church, then maybe we can go to the library.

Later…

I am at Ma’s now. Tom’s gone to pick her up from church.

We talked for a little over an hour when we first got here. Half about Nickolena, half about other stuff.

Her new carpet in the living room and her new tile in part of the kitchen area look great.

They’re back now.

SATURDAY, APRIL 12, 1997
I am outside now using Piggy’s old cage for a table. Tom took the sides off it. It’s a bit low.

Not anymore, though, cuz Tom just put the table up on cement blocks.

I have the radio headphones on now, so that every time those fucking dogs bark, I can put on music.

Right now Tom’s chopping old brush up and Bunny’s out running about. He comes up to me periodically for his nose to be petted.

Well, I do want to write more, but I really can’t think of anything more to say, so I guess that’s it!

On the other hand, Bunny’s working on his hole some more. He’s so cute to watch. Especially when he darts across the yard.

Later…

My stomach feels so much better today, thanks to Tom. Since following his suggestions on how to eat and when and what’s good to eat, I feel much better. He’s sure that in a week I’ll have dropped a pound or two, but so far, that doesn’t seem possible. We’ll see in a week, but I still wouldn’t be surprised if I had to starve to lose weight.

The other thing I can say thanks to Tom for is that he really got a lot done around here today. He did some yard work and put carpet scraps that Ma gave us in the bathroom. He cut them to fit in with a knife, but we still have to tack them to the floor. He’s gonna pick up some tape for that. He did other things, too.

These are the good things he did, but the next thing he did, didn’t go over too well with me at all. It’s the same old shit, though, that never changes.

I’m sick and tired of him using me as an excuse for his low sex drive. Instead of coming out and saying he’s not in the mood for sex, he has to blame it on circumstances, and things about me, while he says it’s not my fault.

He still can’t mix work and pleasure worth shit. It’s either working around the house or do nothing and screw.

Now we can’t have sex cuz I got upset this morning and cuz he worries about me. That was hours ago and since then I’ve been fine, and people can still worry about one another and still have sex, can’t they? If he’s gonna worry about me, he’s gonna worry about me, whether we’re screwing or not. And also, the issues that rattled me, aren’t gonna rattle me anymore if we’re screwing.

How can I not feel that I’m being punished for letting out my fears this morning about his bullshit promise, the doctor’s appointment, and my parents’ visit? What? I have to be happy in order to get sex? I can’t get sex if I get mad or sad or talk about how I feel? Why is it that just about every single time I open up about how I feel, I either get fought with for it or deprived of sex?

The point is this, if the guy really wanted it bad enough, he’d get it. And not make so many excuses and have so many conditions surrounding it.

His not wanting to touch me when I’m not happy, really makes me feel like I’m not good enough and not attractive enough, just cuz I’m not happy. It makes me feel like I’m only accepted when I’m happy.

I really can’t wait till he just hurries up and breaks his promise so I can hang up our sex lives forever. You’d think by now he’d have grown out of the games he plays with me pertaining to sex and his false promises and all his excuses, but no. It’s the same old shit and I’m not gonna be a part of it. I’ll be with him and love him forever, but I’m not gonna put in another 3 years of the conflicts and problems that come with sex. If I’m not gonna be good enough to keep a promise to, I’m not gonna be good enough to fuck. When he stops with the excuses, circumstances and with what I have to say and feel, that’ll be different. Meanwhile, everything turns him off, puts him out of the mood, and he just won’t admit that he’s got a low appetite. Well, after he breaks his promise to me - it’s over! Then, if he wants it bad enough and can stop making so many excuses, we’ll see.

I’m not gonna be in this part-time sex life, I’m not gonna be punished with sex, I’m not gonna deal with his conditions and excuses, I’m not gonna be lied to and teased about what’s gonna happen with sex.

I’m not surprised he didn’t touch me today, too. As of tomorrow, we agreed not to have any sex anyway, till after the appointment on the 17th. He just figured he’d add one more day and laugh to himself about it, huh? Yeah, he knew what he was doing.

Earlier he said he could adapt to whatever life presented to him. Well, he’s gonna have to adapt to life presenting him with no sex with his wife after he breaks that promise to me. Of course, that’ll be no problem for him. The only problem with it he’ll have is that he’ll no longer be able to play with my head about sex or make bullshit promises.

FRIDAY, APRIL 11, 1997
We needed new checks, so Tom told me to look in the weekly fliers for checks. Every week we get an envelope with sheets of stuff you can order and I found the one with the checks. I picked out ‘Poker Dogs’. Dogs gathered around a table playing cards. There are 4 different scenes.

I am on the phone now with Andy. He said he doesn’t have $700 to have two teeth filled. Oh well. He’ll just have to work his ass off and make the money as he said. I’m sure he can do it and he’s sure, too.

Later…

OK, Andy let me go, so now I can get on with my writing. I’m so sick of the phone! I casually let him know that it’d be 2-3 days before we talk again cuz Tom’s off. Hopefully, he’ll get the hint and not call so much. Every day is too much. Besides, what can I tell him every single day? It’s not like there’s something new going on every day to tell him about.

I did get a hold of Tammy. Bill’s still clear of cancer but has a very weak immune system. Hopefully, he’ll be home today.

I realized that the reason why Bob told me Andy wrote to him, was no doubt to get a bad reaction out of me. He probably figured I’d get all pissed at Andy and at him, too, and write all about it. He loves negative attention as much as he loves positive attention. Well, he’s certainly not gonna get the satisfaction of any type of response from me.

AOL has a spot called “my favorite places,” and this is where you can put the sites you like to visit on AOL or around the web. I not only loaded in Norah’s site, in case that changes, but I loaded in Gloria and Linda’s site, too, so I can take my time going through it all. There are about 1200 articles involving Linda and about 3000 on Gloria. I’d have loved this and died to have had this when I was really into these people.

I finished all the books Ma gave me. Speaking of Ma, we discussed bringing her over here, now that my schedule’s rolling onto days. After he takes care of her this morning and brings her to do some errands, Tom will then get our groceries. We’re both starting the Slim-Fast diet today. I’m gonna try to lose the weight starting now, but like I said, I’ll really gung-ho it if I haven’t dropped weight by the time my folks get here. I’m sure, though, that there is no such thing anymore as me losing weight the responsible way. I’m sure I’ll have to starve myself. Then after I eat again, it’ll come right back on, I’m sure.

I wouldn’t be too surprised if after my folks left, I lost the weight. That’s how it usually works.

I’m also going to be switching to decaf coffee so that I don’t have to worry about such sore tits every month. I’m sick of having my tits get so sore a whole 2-3 weeks away from my period.

Also, Tom says we can do stuff around here this weekend. Now I like the sound of that. We’re getting the yard presentable and we’re also gonna straighten up the back room some more, which has been looking the best it’s looked for the longest time, though, to be truthful. There are still some parts of it that are cluttered and sloppy, so Tom’s gonna take care of that, then I’ll go around and dust areas that are normally too jammed up with stuff to dust. I’ll also try to clean some of the walls in the kitchen and bathroom.

I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I may get my sketchbook photocopied to send to Larry and Tammy.

Well, I think that now I’ll go check out my stuff online. I’ll start with Linda’s file. I’m mostly interested in pictures. I wonder how many more pictures of Linda and Gloria there are out there that I used to have.

Later…

OK, I went through the first out of the 1200 main links on Linda. I went through all its links. See how long it took just to browse through just one of them? It’ll take years to go through everything I want to go through on Linda and Gloria, cuz when you go to something on the main menu, there are a million links within it.

Did I mention yet that Tom showed me how to look in the TV guide on AOL to check and see if that episode of The Hitchhiker that Norah was in will be on? I can check about two weeks’ worth at a time.

Ma gave us scraps of carpet and we’ll probably put some in the little entranceway by the garage door. I don’t know what we’ll do with the rest of it, though. Maybe we can put it in the bathroom.

Later…

I just did some singing. As soon as it gets lighter out, I’ll let Bunny out, just like I did yesterday. The yard is now safe for him. He really likes it out there. Yesterday I got a lot of proofreading done and I think I’ll go do some more now.

Later…

I am so fucking furious now! I mean really really fucking pissed! Now I’m fucking 110 pounds!! Right on schedule, too. I told you I gain or lose in 2s and by June 1st I’ll be 112 if I can’t stop this fucking shit from happening. Why? Why the fuck is this happening? Why am I always so hungry and what the fuck’s making me gain this weight? I don’t eat very much, so why? I could eat a lot if I wanted to, but most of the reason why I’m so hungry is cuz of me trying to not eat as much as I’d like to, so why? How much more of my body is God going to claim? What’s next? What’s he gonna do next? Make my hair fall out?

Well, fuck dieting, cuz now I’m gonna starve. I mean, completely, no matter how hungry I get. I’ll just live on my coffee and cigarettes. I’m not gonna let God win this one, I swear! I’m gonna fucking beat him on this one! He took my right to a child and he’s not gonna take my right to lose weight. No fucking way!

Earlier, I was so fucking hungry, that I had some popcorn. It’s a good thing no one reads these journals, cuz what I’m about to write will gross anyone out. Well, it was hard and it took some time, but I finally managed to make myself puke a little. I figured that if I’m too damn hungry to stop eating, I’d have to eat when I got painfully hungry, then puke it up. Tom said that that’d be a waste of money, but I don’t think so. We get our money’s worth out of giving my hunger pains some relief, even if it’s for 5 minutes.

I then had a feeling that God was gonna get me for this and for telling him, “Look, I’m not gonna ask you for a kid since I know you’ll never change your mind about that, but please let me lose the weight. Don’t take that from me, too.”

That’s when I weighed 110. That fucking bastard! It’s like the harder I fight God, the more he punishes me. I ask to lose weight, he does the opposite. I ask for a kid, he does the opposite. If he doesn’t give me the opposite of what I ask for, he gives me nothing at all. Or, he punishes me. It’s always 1 of the 3. I won’t dare ask him for a readable and negative PAP and a good visit with my folks, cuz he’ll just do the opposite, nothing, or punish me. The only thing that I could pray for and be granted without punishment would be if I prayed to never have a kid.

Why does he hate me so fucking much? If I hear one more person say that God helps those who help themselves, I’m gonna slap them!

Oh and also, Tom says that if I’m not pregnant when he cums those 3 days (which he won’t), it doesn’t mean I’m sterile. Is it really that hard for women to conceive? I reminded him that it can’t be that hard, or else millions of women wouldn’t have so many kids, but then he said that if it were that easy, millions more would have kids. Whatever. I’m just so fucking fed up with God controlling and punishing me!

If I didn’t intend to fight God and win (and I fucking mean it - I will win!), how high would he have had me go? Up to 130? Up to 150? Up to how much?

Why? Why is he doing this to me? Is it cuz I cuss him out? Is it cuz I think of and wish for and sometimes try to fight him for things that I’m not supposed to have or be doing? I don’t think so. I didn’t cuss him out or fight him as a kid. Not at all compared to how I’ve tried fighting him as an adult (with the woman and the singing), so what did I do to him as a child to piss him off so much and make him hate me so much and want to punish me so bad?

Can’t he just leave me alone? Can’t he just say to himself, OK, you’ve controlled her enough? Just leave her alone and stop controlling her life and body. And her husband’s.

I guess the fact that his punishing me which punishes Tom, is OK with him. Although, Tom could never feel as punished as I do. He can live with and adapt to anything that he has or doesn’t have in his life. He can live just fine with or without a child and believe me, no man is obsessed with their weight like women are. They don’t give a shit about having kids. They don’t give a shit about not having kids. They don’t give a shit if they’re fat. They don’t give a shit if they’re thin. They can live with anything that life dishes out to them. Or that life doesn’t dish out to them. These are the only things I envy about men. And the fact that they don’t have to deal with periods. Other than that, I’ve always been perfectly happy to be a woman.

I just want my life to be mine. And my body to be mine. I can’t fight him for the kid and win. But I can and I will fight him to lose the weight. He can stop Tom’s sperm from meeting my eggs, but he can’t stop me from not eating. He can’t reach down and grab me and shove food into my mouth and force me to chew it and swallow it.

Later…

Bunny’s gotten so addicted to being outdoors, that I can’t get him to bring him inside. Well, I’m not gonna play tag with him, so if that’s where he wants to be, fine.

I did something really nice and pretty. Tom liked it, too. The phone in the living room, which has 30 numbers you can program into it, has a spot where I stick 3 little pieces of paper with the names of the people whose numbers are in there. Well, I typed up these 3 little lists and it didn’t take me too many tries to size up the font just right, either. It looks really nice.

Later…

Bunny finally let me bring him inside, but he didn’t make it that easy for me. He was out there for about two hours. He started to dig quite an impressive hole, too, towards the back of the yard.

Anyway, this puking shit is really gross. And it leaves a shitty taste in your mouth. So I’m just gonna not eat, deal with being hungry and I’m gonna beat God on this one. I promise him that. I promise me that. I will lose this fucking weight and look and feel better and fit into my clothes again.

I’m doing 50 crunches a day on the thigh master, but have been too lazy to do much of anything else. It’s easier to hide a big belly than it is to hide thighs. Especially in AZ when you want to wear shorts.

Tom should be home in about an hour. I hope we can find a new sketchbook for me soon since I’ve only got a few pages left in this one.

I was gonna do up a letter for Larry, but first of all, we have no stamps and secondly, I’ll probably just wait till after Mom and Dad’s visit.

Later…

Bill’s home from the hospital and will need time to get his strength back. It’s a damn good thing that he’s been at the job he’s been at for so long. He misses so much work, that he’s lucky he doesn’t get fired.

As usual, I’m really fucking hungry and I just can’t get my goddamn mind off of food! That’s all I can think about. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days, so I can only imagine how lousy I’ll feel when it really has been a few days since I’ve eaten. On the other hand, you do adapt to things like that. I adapted when I didn’t have much money for food, so I’ll just have to adapt again and get used to not eating very much at all.

Later…

After Tom got home, I discussed all this weight shit with him and he helped me write a plan that he says will enable me to lose weight.

Andy’s gonna think he’s as crazy as I do for telling me I look better now at 108 and was too thin at 100.

THURSDAY, APRIL 10, 1997
Tom woke up at the same time I did, feeling great and well-rested, so why he didn’t want sex, when there was plenty of time, beats me. I guess this worked out with good timing, though, cuz once again I’m not very horny. For about a week after my period, I’m not as horny.

Tomorrow we’re both gonna go on the Slim-Fast diet. If I haven’t lost any weight right before my folks get here, then about 3-4 days before they get here, I’ll liquidate myself like hell and see if I can at least have a quick, week or so, of being thin.

It’s hard to believe, that as of yesterday, I’ve known Tom for 4 years.

I’ve been trying to get a hold of Tammy to see how Bill is, but there’s no answer.

Tom thinks that the Aerobid was responsible for the weight gain as well as the moods. He said he thinks this cuz of how I’d try to lose weight while on it and couldn’t, yet after getting off of it, I started to drop. Yeah, but only for 5 minutes, then I went right back up to where I am now. It hangs on me and stays with me. Meaning, that I weigh a steady 108 when I wake up, when I go to bed, and no matter where I am in my cycle.

He knows. Tom knows where not gonna have a kid. I could tell by the way I was telling him that I’d be glad I’d be a week after my period when my parents get here and not right before it. His expression was as if to say, “Yeah, I know that.”

And why else would he say that as soon as we get caught up financially, he’s gonna claim 1, then 0 on his tax forms at the end of the year, so we won’t have to pay as much in taxes? For now, he’s claiming 3, so that we can have less taken out of his paycheck and more to live on. But he must certainly know that we won’t be having a kid, cuz that’d set us back financially. Having the kid may cost a fortune, but if I got pregnant now, that still costs enough money, cuz you’ve got doctor’s appointments and then things you have to buy for the baby. I know that his side of the family would’ve contributed some stuff, but we wouldn’t have gotten a damn thing from my side of the family. And we couldn’t have expected Tom’s family to buy everything. We would’ve still had to have bought a lot of stuff and spent tons of money.

I took down the Gloria pictures that were along one of the bedroom walls. I’ve had those pictures up in different places I lived in since 1989, so I thought it was time for a change. I cut/cropped the pictures to fit into one of our photo albums. I haven’t decided yet, what I’ll be doing with this now blank wall.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 9, 1997
Well, Bill’s been hospitalized again with some kind of lung infection or pneumonia. Tammy really hit it right on the money when she said that every time it looks like they’ve gotten their lives together and that things will work out, something happens. Boy, do I know about that and how that’s like all too well.

Is God ever gonna not only let us control our own lives but leave that poor family the fuck alone?

Anyway, I spent 2½ hours cleaning the hell out of this place, so now I’m just gonna go do something relaxing.

Later…

I just wrote “Shelly” her letter. When we get stamps, I’ll send it off.

Speaking of letters, well, in Bob’s letter, I noticed just what a liar he is. He cannot be trusted and he just does not know how to keep his mouth shut. He also pays no attention to anything someone asks of him (not to talk sexual, not to tell me about “Andy’s” letter, etc.). He’s totally stuck on himself and doing only what he wants to do. He’s the opposite of Tom. Tom does too much for others. Bob does too much for himself.

In “Andy’s letter,” Andy asked him not to tell me he wrote to him, but what did he do? He said, “I got a letter from Andy.”

I forgot to mention a cool thing in one of the pictures. Well, there was a shot of Bunny running almost directly under the electrical line and in it, you could see the shadow of the line with the birds on it up above, but not see the actual line with the birds strung across it.

Tom, who’s tired most of the time, is gonna stop by his ma’s house after work. That woman’s gonna kill him one of these days! If she doesn’t want to be taken care of, then why does she keep the house? Tom says it’s to have the responsibility of keeping up the house. Well, if she can keep up the house so well, then why does she need things cleaned and fixed all the time? I still really think this woman belongs in some kind of supervised environment. Tom needs his sleep and to keep his health and we need to live our lives. Not babysit her and check on her every day and maintain her and her house. I mean, I love the woman dearly, but how many years are things gonna be like this? And what’s gonna happen when she gets older and worse physically? Will Tom have to live there while she stubbornly stays at the house, yet says she doesn’t want to burden anyone?

Another reason why he’s doing whatever he can for his mom and for Evelyn when she’s got jobs for him is to get up enough money to go to CA in May.

As expected, there’s absolutely no change in the dog situation. They just started up and will bark about 10 times an hour till around 11 PM. God, I wish someone would get rid of them!

I’m not having as much nausea lately, which is fine with me, but I’m still nervous and will be for a while. If I’m not nauseous, my heart races. After the doctor can’t read the PAP and after he breaks his promise and after my folks come and go, I’m sure I’ll feel better.

I don’t know what I’m more nervous about - my parents or Tom’s BS promise. Probably Tom’s BS promise, cuz I’m both nervous and excited to see my folks. There’s nothing exciting about being lied to and told that someone’s gonna do something for you that means so much to you when you know they’re not gonna do it.

TUESDAY, APRIL 8, 1997
Yesterday and part of today, I felt this constant, yucky feeling of nausea. I think most of it may be due to nerves. A part of me wishes I could snap my fingers and have it be around May 20th, then watch what happened till then on a video. Watch the things that I don’t know how they’re gonna turn out, that is.

I’m nervous about my parents’ visit. You know that could either be a nightmare or good or both.

Then there’s the doctor’s appointment and this joke of a promise Tom made me. Again, Tom reminded me yesterday that I can just write the promise off in my mind and be done with it. I can? Hell, I wish I could! If you think it’s that easy, though, think again. There are only two things about it that I can write off in my mind and that’s any possibility of him cumming those 3 days and my conceiving. Everything else about it is just a script waiting to be acted out, although it’ll be no act and no joke to me.

I got a nice message from Marla and from now on, I’ll try to remember to copy and paste any email I may get into the computer journals.

I sent Marla and her family a letter in fingerspelling. It’s mostly for Brian since he’s learning that.

I also went cruising on the web and I surfed through investigations and criminal checks. I couldn’t find much, say when I went to look into Bob’s background. There was a people-search thing, though, that’s kind of like a nationwide phonebook. This time, I looked for Shelly L throughout all of MA and CT and there weren’t any in CT, but I did find one in Easthampton MA. Of course, this isn’t to say that it’s her, but I’m gonna try calling the number sometime to see if it is or not.

Tom’s working on getting the place presentable for Mom and Dad. I told him not to slave himself over them, they’re not worth it, fuck them if they don’t like how the place looks, but he says he wants to do this, anyway. He’s mostly been tackling the backyard.

We got the pictures back, too. That was fast. We were only in a few of them. They were mostly of scenery and animals. I’ll be sending Tammy a set soon since Mom and Dad will be out here and can then see our photo albums.

Later…

I called that number and it figures that it was disconnected. I’m sure, though, that if someone had answered, it wouldn’t have been her. You never do know, though, if it’s her who really does and is still living there, but just had her phone shut off for some reason. So, I’ve got the address and I shall send her (if it’s her) a letter soon.

MONDAY, APRIL 7, 1997
I wish I knew what the fuck was going on with my weight. I mean, I just can’t see why I can’t lose the weight anymore. Also, these constant hunger pains have got to go. They’re driving me nuts! If I were to break down, let myself go, and just eat whatever I wanted to, I’d gain a pound a day. Yesterday morning at around 8:00, I was just about to knock off to sleep, but I was sooo fucking hungry. I ate 3 granola bars, 2 hotdogs, and a piece of cheese and I was still hungry!

I just ate a huge beef patty. One that’s pre-cooked, so all you have to do is heat it in a skillet, or whatever, and I feel like I haven’t eaten in years. This is pitiful. Why am I so hungry all the time? When I’d get a 4-piece chicken dinner at KFC, that comes with a biscuit and two side orders, it’d take me 2-4 times of eating it to finish it all, but I know that right now, I could easily consume 4 pieces of chicken, a biscuit, and 2 cups of baked beans. This is sickening!

Andy said that he noticed most of the weight gain in my face. In my face? I thought for sure he’d say he noticed most of it in my stomach. My stomach, legs and ass have gotten hit the most. And my tits, but mostly my stomach, so I guess that’s OK if people notice it in my face. I’d rather have a fat face, than the fat gut I’ve got. Then again, it’s the face you see the most, so I don’t know.

It’s sick, though, and for the last few days, I’ve constantly felt both hungry and nauseous. Well, I’ve basically resigned myself to the fact that I tried, but couldn’t lose the weight and I’m not going to lose the weight, so I may as well just eat what I want, when I want, and forget about what the scale says or what the mirror shows me. Hey, it’s just one more thing about me, my body and my life that God’s taken control over that I can’t do a damn thing about.

Once again, I had a light period and I still look just as bloated as I did before my period. I only got about 98% tit relief, so I’ll have to really watch the caffeine intake this month so that my tits aren’t killing me a whole 3 weeks before the next period we know I’ll be getting on or around May 2nd.

Now I know that the Aerobid didn’t have anything to do with my weight gain. Just the moods.

Tom finally got off again yesterday. Big time. That’s nice, but boy am I getting nervous as we get closer to the 17th - 19th. I know exactly what’s going to happen. Like I said, I can see the whole thing played out. I’ll be hurt and mad, even though I stupidly asked for it by agreeing to this little game of his and I knew that I’d get hurt and angry in the end and just play myself for a fool. And let him play me for a fool, too, with his being a smooth, slick, casual, bold liar. How can he think I’m that stupid to be conned into believing this? I mean, is he that arrogant himself? How does he expect to go from cumming once every week or two on average to 3 days in a row? I mean, doesn’t he know himself better? Can I really know him better than he does? No. I know he knows what he’s doing and what he’s planning to do, just like I know. But why? Why would he want to knowingly hurt me with such an issue that means so much to me? I mean really, when you love someone, you don’t fuck with them like that. Not with something that’s so important to them. You don’t tell them you’re gonna do something you know you’re not gonna do. I mean, what’s the point? What did I do to him to make him want to do this to me? Like I said, he’s just got to prove his point about the timetable and the planning thing, doesn’t he? This is perfect timing, too. Rugg brings up counting and planning, so he’s just got to show me that that won’t work, huh? What’s his bold lie of an excuse gonna be this time? Will it be cuz of something I said or did? Will it be something that hurts him? Will it be cuz he’s tired? Will he cry a bullshit missed orgasm to try to cover for the truth? Or will he just come out and say, “Hey, I tried! You can’t accuse me of breaking a promise that I couldn’t keep when I tried! I really did! It was totally out of my control! It wasn’t my fault! I really was totally sure I could cum 3 days in a row, so I did nothing wrong! You have no right to be hurt or angry with me!”

Andy finally revealed his secret to me. Yes, it is disgusting. Even he said he was just so damn embarrassed and ashamed that he did such a disgusting thing but was amazed at how well I took it. Well, how could I take it? What was I gonna do? Tell him how sick and disgusting it is? That he should feel the way he does about it? That I love him any less? Well, I don’t love him any less and we all do things we feel that way about and regret, but sorry Andy, for lying to you. I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone or write about it. Well, I won’t tell anyone about it, but I’m about to write about it.

When he was 22, he had his friend Juliet’s dog give him a blowjob.

That is soooo gross! Deeeeeezgusting!

He also told me it scares him that he’s attracted to youthful-looking 16-18-year-old boys. He said he’d never fuck a minor, though, and I know and believe that. Well, like he said, we can’t help who we’re attracted to, but I can’t imagine getting off by some animal. I don’t know how I could even get off by people I wasn’t attracted to sexually, even though I did somehow, but a dog?! Andy said his brothers and others he knew talked about putting strips of meat and other foods on their dicks for dogs to lick off, and how dogs gave great head, and that he wanted to try it. That is just so gross, though. Yuck! That’s the first thing I can truly say about Andy that he did that really is totally sick. That and how he says he eats his snots, fingernails and toenails.

He said he forced the dog to swallow his cum too, which makes no more sense than his having sex with a dog in the first place. He said he did this a few times and one of the times was out on a golf course, which makes it even sicker. To let a dog suck you off is sick but in public? Oh please! While he did this at the golf course, he said that someone that he couldn’t see, cuz it was getting dark, saw him doing this. He said he couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a man, but that they froze in their tracks till he was done with his business and is mortified over the fact that someone out there knows about this.

He says I’m the second person to know about this. He said he made the mistake of telling Bev, of all people, who told his story to a couple of other people to which he denied the whole thing.

SATURDAY, APRIL 5, 1997
I let my folks know too, that I’ve decided to wear the dress I just bought, cuz it’s my house and my life and my dress, whether they like it or not, but will also wear some stuff they sent me that I know they’ll like.

I also told my folks about my funny live chat with Tammy and then I asked them to please keep this a secret - they didn’t hear this from me - but could they please call Larry every day? And if they can’t call him every day, could they please call as often as they can? Maybe that was a bad mistake, though, cuz knowing them, they’ll tell Larry that I asked them to call him more.

Tom will be leaving for work at 1:30 and believe it or not, I hope he isn’t in the mood for sex, cuz I’m not in the mood right now. As usual, my period began with spots, but tomorrow it’ll gush a bit. Good. I can’t wait for tit relief.

Later…

Oh, I’m so pissed. I just had another live chat with Tammy, went to copy and paste it over here, but lost it somehow. Oh well. We didn’t talk long or about much. Just that she’s working on a paper for school, knows Mom and Dad are coming out here and that’s pretty much it. We’re gonna chat again tomorrow night at 6 PM my time. As of tomorrow, they’ll be 3 hours ahead of us.

I warned Mom and Dad, that as an adult, I’ll wear what I want and like and what makes me feel comfortable and that if they don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it. Don’t give opinions that weren’t asked for or embarrass me by cutting me down in front of my husband. I warned them in a lighthearted, teasing, yet serious way. I went through my clothes and picked out stuff I’d like to wear while they’re here. Some of which they sent me. But believe me, I didn’t have much to pick from. Not with this chubby body.

Tammy’s going to see them in July. What will she, mom, dad, Marty and Ruth bash me about this time? Yeah well, I was teasing Tammy about that and I let her know that we’d rank on her while mom and dad were out here and we’d have our own little let’s-whine-about-Tammy discussion hour.

Later…

I am doing all I can possibly do to look better and thinner by the time my folks get here. So, I’ve got my wrist weights on and my tummy supporter. I shall do at least stomach and legwork daily.

When I re-read my first chat with Tammy, there was something I spotted that cracked me up. I love people that can’t spell or type and that hardly use punctuation. It’s so funny. Well, Tammy forgot her comma when she asked, “Did Mom and Dad talk to you about singing hair, etc.”

Anyway, I ranked on her for that saying, “Yeah, I have singing hair, Tammy! It was never really me that sang. It was my hair. Tom’s hair can sing, too! Do you have singing hair?”

I got a very boring Bob letter today. Just as I expected too, in response to “Andy’s letter.” Well, Kim can have it. He didn’t have anything new to say. Just the same old shit. And when he wrote how he doesn’t know how he offended me, I thought to myself - yeah, I’ll bet you don’t. You’re just absolutely clueless, aren’t you, old man?

Tom made brownies which came out so good. I gotta eat as little as I can stand, though, but I’m still pretty sure that when my folks do get here, I’ll be 106-108, just like I have been for months. I mean, I know I’m fighting another one of those losing battles (my favorite pastime), but I’m not gonna go down that easy. I may be a quitter who gives up easily, but I still have my stubborn moments when I just don’t know when to quit, even when I know I’m destined to lose.

I realized something the other day about Tom’s impossible and full-of-shit promise he made me. I know just what he’s gonna do. Yup, I can bet you that instead of admitting that he didn’t cum, he’s gonna cry missed orgasm. You know, one of those super mini orgasms that don’t deliver as much juice. That’d be a major mean con, though, and one slick son of a bitch of a bold lie, if he did that. I wouldn’t put it past him, though. In fact, I expect this.

Anyway, another thing I’ve been meaning to write about is why Tammy couldn’t chat live with me the night after our first chat.

Lisa mentioned that she was upset with her neighbor for telling another neighbor that this boy was harassing her. According to Lisa, she didn’t want Tammy to know. She didn’t say why or how the boy was harassing her, but according to Tammy, the police were then involved, cuz Lisa supposedly lied about this boy and it was about something sexual, too. The weird thing about it is that I’ve heard that kids very rarely lie about sexual abuse or harassment. Why, though? If Lisa really lied, why? This just isn’t the Lisa I knew back there and know here over the phone, so what’s really going on? I don’t know who to believe, but I can believe this much - that Tammy’s the main cause of the kid’s problems and that she’s still not a very good mom. I don’t think Bill’s father of the year, either.

Anyway, Tammy said something about Lisa undergoing psychological and scholastic testing. My guess is that if Lisa’s telling the truth, Tammy’s reacting the way she is about it, cuz she doesn’t want to believe it, face it, or admit it. And maybe Lisa didn’t want to tell her cuz she knew Tammy would react that way and not believe her. And even be embarrassed and ashamed. Unfortunately, people like Tammy and my folks would react and feel that way about it, whereas to me, the right thing to do about something like that is to assume your child’s telling the truth, check it out, face it, and deal with it and without shame or embarrassment or any care about what others think about it, stick by that kid and let them know it wasn’t their fault.

My guess is that if Lisa’s lying, well, I guess that the only reason why that could be that I can think of, is to get attention. Kids that lack good attention at home, often seek bad attention outside of home. I should know.

Now, I’m sitting here dreaming again. If only there could be such a thing as Tom keeping his promise. Then I could really prove or disprove my beliefs about us never having a kid. Cuz if a woman got her period on the 4th, then had a guy cum in her on the 17th - 19th, she should be pregnant. If she’s not - something’s wrong or God’s got other plans for her.

Also, one more person with Shelly’s last name replied to me saying they didn’t know Shelly. So, that makes half of them that have replied since I sent messages to 6 people with that name.

FRIDAY, APRIL 4, 1997
Holy shit! Both my parents are coming out on May 9th! The 10th at the latest. It’s hard to believe that I’ll be seeing my folks in just over a month. It’s so unreal. They’re both gonna drive out together, cuz they got someone to dog-sit and take care of the store. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of them coming out together. It’s like shooting two birds with one stone and I’d like to get on with the visit and get it over with ASAP, too. My reason for this is that I really feel and believe that this is it. The final meeting. Then I’ll never see them again. I don’t know why I feel and believe this, but I do. Also, if by a miracle, Tom keeps his promise and then by another miracle, God lets us have a kid, our visit would be done and over with by the time we found out there was a kid on the way. I know the truth, though, and what will really happen, cuz real life is real life and fate is fate. I know I’m gonna get a period at the beginning of May and the good thing about that is, is that when they get here, it’ll be a week after my period, so I won’t be sore and bloated. I’d hate to have them come out right before my period.

I was all psyched to have gotten down to 104 pounds, just to go back up to 108 pounds. I’m gonna try one last time to chuck the weight and be at around 100 when they get out here so I’ll feel and look better and so that my clothes will fit better. If I can’t, though, then I can’t, cuz I’m pretty sure God’s gone and taken that, too, so now I can’t even control what my own body weighs. I’m at the point now where I would literally have to starve myself for a few days. Then, as soon as I ate one bite, the weight would be back on.

I’m gonna be getting Tom up in about an hour and a half, but I have so much to write about now, so I’m gonna do that and get that out of the way. Or else I won’t write till Sunday or Monday, knowing me.

It’s really too soon to tell if there’s any improvement with those dogs and due to my schedule, I can’t really tell. Nonetheless, I’m still totally sure that there’ll be no change.

Tom’s mom just called back. I had left her a message. She’s psyched, too, about mom and dad coming out and will gladly go out to dinner with us as my folks insisted. I think we’ll go to Red Lobster.

I got bored one night and was looking through AOL’s member directory. I looked up the last names of people I’ve known or knew and when I checked Shelly L, I found 6 in Springfield. There were also several in other towns in MA and some in CT, as well. I sent messages to 6 in Springfield, asking if they knew a Shelly L (from the foster home). So far, 2 replied saying they didn’t know her.

It was great to see Marla, but after dealing with her kids too, for the 45 minutes they were all here it made me wonder how I could still want a child. The 9-year-old was fine. Very calm and quiet. But that 3-year-old wouldn’t sit still and its mouth was obnoxious. Tom still slept through it all, though, cuz he was exhausted. We all sat in the back room and talked and I even showed Marla my sketchbook.

Andy’s lost a lot of weight. He says that’s the lowest he’s been in 8 years. Yeah, and I’m the highest I’ve been in 8 years.

Marla and the boys came on Tuesday night and they left early this afternoon. Andy left me a message, as soon as he returned from dropping them off at the airport, saying to be glad we don’t have kids, they drove him crazy, they were always in the way and he couldn’t spend any time alone with Marla. They were also pissed off that it was cold and rainy while they were here. The weather’s been terrible. That’s for sure. It’s cold, damp and rainy. However, before a week has passed, we’ll be sweating like pigs for many months.

Later…

I’m gonna get Tom up soon. I got my period today and I’m glad I didn’t get it on the 2nd, cuz then Tom wouldn’t have been able to break his promise to me, cuz of when my appointment’s scheduled.

Mom and Dad once sent me a super long fork, and the handle is like that of an antenna. Maybe I should fold it up and take it in my pocketbook to the restaurant. Then secretly take it out, open it up, and steal their food!

Tom has to go to work at 2 AM, so he’s getting his shower out of the way now.

He typed up directions that I’m mailing my folks on how to get from the freeway to the motel they’ll be staying at and also to the house.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 2, 1997
Oh, my tits have never been so sore! I can’t wait till my period comes and relieves them.

The weather has changed practically overnight. I guess we had some rain and it’s so much cooler. It’s barely over 60º. This house is gonna be chilly tonight.

I called over at Andy’s a little while ago. Laura, who’s there during the daytime, said they all took off, but she doesn’t know where.

We opened our predictions for April 1st, and naturally, I got all mine right. He got 2 half right, 3 right and 4 wrong. Here are the ones he got half right:

The back room is still clear.

You are tired and cranky.

I love you!

Here are the ones he got right:

We have a little more money than we had at the beginning of the year.

We have been swimming this year.

Here are the ones he got wrong:

You are pregnant.

We have a web page of our very own.

The garden is doing well.

You are wrong about your main predictions.

Anyway, I was really furious as I thought about the uncles again last night. Then I got a bit furious at mom and dad. Parents are supposed to be on their kid’s side, whether their kids are grown-up or not. My point is, is that I wouldn’t have anything to do with anyone, whether they were brother or sister-in-law or not, who hated my kids. I mean, if I knew that Tammy or Larry didn’t like my kid and wouldn’t talk to them, whether or not they had a legit reason, I wouldn’t want a damn thing to do with them. And the same goes for Tom. One must accept my family as a whole, whether there were 2 of us or 20 of us.

Another thing that pisses me off about mom and dad is that they don’t realize that it wasn’t just me who wronged the uncles. And if they ever did realize this, what the uncles did was acceptable, as far as they’re concerned.

And of course, if I were living back there still and if it was my kid who died, Ronnie wouldn’t have shown up at my place or anyone else’s about it. As long as he’s stuck in the past, I may as well be too, therefore I’d be glad that he didn’t show up, cuz I’d kill him. And yet mom and dad go on and on about being stuck in the past. Well, of course in their opinion, the aunts and uncles not having anything to do with Tammy and I is OK. And perfectly just and acceptable, cuz only we did wrong and not them.

I thought Larry hated Ronnie as much as Tammy and I do and I guess they weren’t very close for a while, according to Tammy, but now they get along. They must somewhat, or else Ronnie wouldn’t have been there.

What kind of an uncle, though, would glare at his own niece? All cuz of something that happened 9 or 10 years ago?

Well, I told mom, dad and Tammy just how I feel too, and I also told them that I don’t expect things to change cuz of it and that that was the last time I’d bring it up.

I think that pig works days and is off on weekends, so by next Monday, we should see if there’s a difference, but like I said, he ain’t gonna do shit about it and if he did, it wouldn’t do any good. And if it did do any good, God will stick something else on me. It usually takes about 4 days after doing something that’s wrong in God’s eyes for me to do, before he dishes out whatever punishment he’s gonna give me, so I guess that by the end of the week or the weekend, I’ll be in for it.

I wasted my time typing my chat with Tammy in here when all I had to do was copy and paste it. Oh well. Next time I’ll know.

Andy just called. Marla and Timmy are napping and he and Brian were just hanging out, but they will probably be here early this evening. I hope their visit doesn’t get in the way of my chatting with Tammy tonight. I don’t think it will. I think they’ll be here at around 7:00 and Tammy and I were gonna chat around 5:00.

Later…

In the article titled Truck Crash Takes Life of Agawam Youth, it spoke highly of Larry Jr. Larry says he was so much more than a son but his best friend as well.

He was said to be calm and reflective after a 32-hour vigil beside little Larry at the hospital while he wore a bandage on his head from minor wounds sustained when the truck rolled over.

Larry said they were taking the truck to East Hartford to have some work done on it. He had an infection in his lungs, started coughing until he blacked out, and the truck flipped over. The last thing he said was, “I love you.”

Then it goes on to say that the police were still investigating and that he wanted to give little Larry the business someday.

TUESDAY, APRIL 1, 1997
Well, my day sure was off to a funny start. Mother Nature delivered New England a nasty April fool’s joke, but it is no joke.

First, though, Andy called to tell me he embarrassed himself and acted like a total jerk and that all those nasty things I wrote about him when he was living with me on Woodside Terrace are true. Laura has a friend named John. He’s not a boyfriend, but he’s her dealer and he sleeps over about 4 times a week for a little while on the couch. I didn’t know this, and Andy said he thinks he should pay some rent. But anyway, Andy couldn’t find his pot one night and he knew Laura wouldn’t steal it, so he accused John. Then Andy said he played his music really loud so they couldn’t sleep. Then Laura got up and found Andy’s pot under the couch cushions and he had looked there before, too, but missed it. So naturally, Andy felt like a jerk and felt very guilty and wrote this guy a long apology letter.

Yeah, that was acting like a jerk, all right, but if I were a pothead, I’d be more paranoid than I naturally am, cuz that’s what drugs do to you, and since most druggies do steal drugs from other people that do drugs, I’d naturally accuse them, too, I guess.

Here’s the funny part of our chat that really started me off great. He said that he’d heard that Springfield got a foot of snow, but didn’t know if he believed it, cuz the weather channel’s wrong a lot. So he called Adam at the hotel and he said it was no joke, but they didn’t get one foot of snow, they got two feet. Ha, ha, ha!!! In April?! They got two feet of snow?! That’s just sooooo funny! Meanwhile, it’s a beautiful day here at about 80º.

Later…

I just called Tammy’s. She and Bill were out plowing, but I chatted with Lisa for a while.

I didn’t know this, but fucking Ronnie G was at the house in E. Longmeadow when Larry died. I was shocked to hear this. I thought Larry hated Ronnie as much as I do. Tammy says he wished Lisa a happy birthday, but just gave Tammy a nasty glare and they never spoke a word to each other. That goes to show just how much he hasn’t changed a bit. I don’t know why, but hearing that he was there really pissed me off. I guess that that’s just cuz if I hear his name, for whatever reason, I get furious. I still wish, at times, that I could beat the shit out of both uncles, but I’ll tell you this much. If I’m at my folk’s funerals when they die, and if he’s there, I’m gonna tell him, “This may be your sister/brother-in-law, but these are my parents. And I want your ass out of here.”

So, I finally got my fears, doubts, worries, beliefs, and suspicions all out to Tom. I told him all about how I feared he was just telling me what I wanted to hear, to get me to the doctor’s, and that he was making an impossible promise and that I could see myself feeling lied to, angry and hurt in the end. I told him I told myself I should let him break his promise first, then let him have it, but my feelings about the whole thing were eating at me. He still insists that he made a promise he can and will keep and that he’d do this, even if I weren’t going to the doctor. He also said that this isn’t the time when we pick the best days and try to make a kid. The best days are around the appointment and he wants to cum 3 days in a row cuz he knows can and he still promises to. He reminded me that we weren’t sure where my cycle began when I’d spot. But since Dr. Rugg told us that it does start and that as soon as I see red, I should mark it, whether it’s a spot or not, now we know how my cycle is for sure. He wanted 2 periods to see how my cycle typically is, even though we figured as much before Rugg confirmed how to chart my cycles. So, even though he’s still gonna cum 3 days in a row, he says, it’s really next month that we can schedule sex by my cycle. I told him I thought we should maybe not have sex during the 17th-19th at all to avoid any conflict, and he said that maybe I should just write it off in my mind, be done with it, but just have sex at that time, anyway. OK, I told him, but I’m still not sure if he’s playing games with me or not. I don’t know what to think, so I shall take his advice and wait and see what happens. I know, though, what’ll happen. He’ll break his promise. Then I’ll give it to him at that time, whether it’s a reaction he’s expecting and looking forward to or not and no matter what he claims is his reason for breaking his promise.

I had a funny live chat with my sister on AOL. I printed it out too, and will copy it in journal number 125 (the written one). I’ll do it in this journal’s computer version, too.

That was really a nice chat I had with Tom’s mom, too. Of course, she couldn’t get through a long conversation like that without bringing up one of David and Evie’s kids, but that’s OK.

Piggy got his letter today that’ll do me no good and that he’ll just toss away and so God’s gonna get me for it any time now.

There was a knock at the door earlier, but I didn’t answer it. As I stood by the door, though, I heard an adult woman and a girl of about 13 chatting. All I remember is the woman saying, “It’s not that he doesn’t like girls. He’s just not ready.” I did clearly hear other stuff, but cannot remember it. It sounded like it was probably those door-to-door, obsessed-with-religion junkies. Maybe Jehovah’s Witnesses or Mormons. Then again, it’s quite a coincidence that there are people knocking on the door the day Piggy gets his letter. But why would he send his wife, if that’s who it was, to discuss it with me? And why would she bring her kid? I don’t even think they have a daughter.

If it was the lovely dog owners themselves, why didn’t she sound angry? And again, why bring the daughter, too? Well, parents do tend to drag their kids into their problems with adults more so these days.

I’d say it was probably religious freaks by the way they spoke and the manner in which they spoke, but time will tell.

Later…

Gotta get Tom up in half an hour.

I just threw the bird’s breakfast out, since I won’t be up when they get up to give them seeds.

I heard someone chatting for a few minutes next door on Easter but still haven’t heard them or seen them since the last time I told you I heard him come in real late. Maybe Tom was right. Maybe he was drunk and woke her up and she got pissed and threw him out for even longer, cuz this is the longest time he’s been gone. If someone was asleep with no fan, that music probably would wake someone up, even if it wasn’t really, really loud. Yeah, that’s probably what happened. He came in drunk and probably wanted sex. But he woke her and the kid up and pissed her off, so she dumped him for even longer. Good for her, then.

Oh, I also spoke to Jen and Larry, too. Larry’s not too happy with mom and dad and he said that if it were his son, he’d call every day. I agree and understand his feelings, but that’s just mom and dad for you. They can’t deal with other people’s problems. Larry said that they can call, but he’s not going out of his way to call them. He says things have been tough and that another reason why he doesn’t call them all the time anymore is cuz he used to call to brag all about Larry, but now that he’s gone, there’s nothing to brag about. Well, I hope in time, he’ll brag about Jen, Sandy and his own life. I mean, I hope Jen and Sandy don’t hear him say that cuz that’d no doubt make them feel like Larry was first best and they’re second best and not worth bragging about.

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Last updated June 16, 2024