February 1998 in 1990s

  • May 29, 2024, 4:39 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1998
The cat’s now in the window trying to get me to go out and chase him off as he likes me to do cuz I don’t appreciate being stared down. Not even by a cat. However, this time I’m not gonna give this damn cat the satisfaction of a chase.

Animals can sometimes be distracting when you’re trying to write, but just think of how much more of a distraction it’d be if I had had a kid. Cuz then we’re not talking about just chewing sounds or sounds of movements from rodents or cats smacking walls and doors, we’re talking about having to get up every other minute to feed it, change it, do this for it, do that for it. Once they get to where they can walk and talk, they always want to show you this and have you come see that and ask a million questions.

That’s the second weekend stereo I’ve heard since 9:00. Yes, it’s that time again and when I go to bed next, which will be around the freeloader’s peak time, it’ll be stressful. You just never know what to expect on weekends and this freeloader is so unpredictable. I mean, he is and he isn’t. I know he’ll be a problem again, I just don’t know when. He could give me 2-3 weeks of no music, then out of the blue, up he starts again with his shit. Since it’s been quiet that I know of, does this mean they still don’t know I haven’t been served? Cuz I figured that it’s when they realize they aren’t gonna get me into court and don’t feel like wasting their time trying anymore, is when they’re gonna pitch a fit.

As almost always, the barometer has risen and the clouds have cleared and the weather’s to be great, just in time for the weekend.

I hate holidays and Saturdays and Sundays from 1 PM - 8 PM. I wish it was Sunday evening now. No, I wish it was Monday morning this time around, cuz then we’ll be off shopping!

At least I don’t feel like one of God’s extras cast into this world as much anymore. One who just sits on the sidelines and watches others live their lives but doesn’t get to participate in life herself. I mean, sometimes I still feel like the purposes I currently have in life are all that’s ever gonna be. Nothing more in the future, except to move. I’m sure I’m right, too, that I’ve peaked and lived my life and can’t do/have much more than I already have, but it doesn’t get to me the way it used to. Guess I’m just used to it and the idea of it. Nonetheless, living for Tom, my animals, to move, and to enjoy my hobbies, beats living for an income barely suitable for a rat, no life, and all kinds of problems with people.

I really appreciated Evie’s email and her generous offers and her understanding. She said she likes me a lot and doesn’t want me doing anything that’d make me uncomfortable, but maybe in April, we can get together. She also said to let her know if I want a ride anywhere or if I need anything when I have my teeth done. Now that I’ve already got someone who drives and who’s supportive of me and who takes care of me here at home, these people crawl out of the woodwork to offer help, but before, I had no one. Anyone who I could get an occasional ride considered me a burden for bumming a “free” ride from them. Well, friends aren’t supposed to “charge” friends with favors. Friendship is supposed to be enough. I mean, Andy gets on my nerves with the favors he wants to be done at times, but I still do it cuz he is a friend. I may bitch about it, but I try to be there for him whenever possible.

I still want to know what Evie’s sudden interest in me is. I know she doesn’t get a kick out of my sterility and therefore wants to rub her kids in my face. She’s not like that, but some people would be sick enough to do that. There are some people who lack sensitivity to things they have never had to endure. So, I think she may feel sorry for me and it’s too bad if she does, cuz I don’t need no one’s pity. In fact, I’d really like to get together not just cuz she seems so nice, but if anything, it’ll help me. Watching what mothers go through with their screaming, destructive kids always makes me appreciate my sterility more and not take it for granted. I then see it more as a gift, than a punishment.

Anyway, Tom’s side of the family is great, as diverse as it is. There are some Hispanic and black people and there are different religions. Some think that Satan sleeps under their pillows, some don’t, some are rich, some average, and some poor. Although Margaret, Ma’s sister, is the only crazy one that I know of, my grandniece Jennifer is the only one who’s half black, and Marie, Bobby’s wife, is the only Mexican one that I know of. I wish Mom would quit being such a little user, though!

I just went outside and took the bar down that goes across one of the back room windows. It was originally put up for the birds, but now the cats love to pounce on it and jolt half the house and startle me.

Later…

I wonder when Tom will be up. Believe it or not, I’m not looking forward to our weekend sex. It just isn’t in me anymore, but it’s better than being the little nympho I used to be. I guess I’m just conditioned now to this part-time sexual relationship. At least I have him full-time, though. Well, when he isn’t taking care of someone else’s car or house I do. Anyway, at least I can fake an orgasm, whereas guys can’t. Although I don’t wish to be dishonest in that way. It’s just that he told me it matters to him. I never thought it did. I always thought cumming didn’t matter to him, be it with him or with me. In fact, he’s made references to his preferring not to cum, and never any about whether or not I came, so I just assumed it didn’t matter with me one way or the other.

However, there won’t be no weekend sex next weekend. That’s when I’m mid-cycle, so he’d probably be too scared to cum, and God wouldn’t allow us to get together more than likely, cuz he’s gotta act like I’m this perfectly fertile thing whose time for motherhood just hasn’t come yet.

I’m doing the laundry that never dries right now. The washer’s fine, except for huge things like comforters, but the dryer sucks. It takes forever for just a few light pieces of clothing to dry.

Later…

Tom’s still not up. He must’ve stayed up very late yesterday, although, on the weekend, he does try to be on a day schedule. He has to work today too, as he does the last Saturday of every month. He’s scheduled for vacation in April, as well as either September or October. I forgot which one. He mentioned us going to SeaWorld in California in April. Sounds great! Hopefully, nothing will come up to stop us from going, but if it does, that’s life, I guess. And I already got to California, even if it was to just drive past the border and cruise around nothing but empty desert for a while.

Anyway, another thing that baffles me about Bob is why he’s still in jail. Don’t these people always get out before most of their sentence is up? I think he mentioned something about parole in 2006, but his 1994 sentence was for 10-14 years.

What is it with me having to shit when at the computer? Every time I’m in the middle of typing is when I have to take a dump. Well, when I’m constipated, I’ll keep that in mind and type like hell.

As shitting and typing go together (at least for me they do) so do GPs and their dramatics. Gotta run like hell most of the time when people walk by them and act all afraid, but what they really want is attention. Well, it’s hard not to notice them dart right by you, that’s for sure.

I’ve still been concentrating on stomach and thigh exercises daily, but it’s still too soon to know what’s going on with the weight. By the middle of next week, I should know if I’ve finally got a shot at losing the weight, or if something up there still wants me to be the porker that I am.

I think right now, though, I’ll go put on a pot of my decaf coffee, add a pinch of cinnamon, and then go plop myself down in the recliner with my last library book. Maybe we’ll go to the library on Monday, as well as to Wal-Mart.

Later…

I am almost done with my book. I am trying to read it slowly since I won’t be getting any more books for at least a few days.

I think I’ll start my weekly letters sometime soon. For now…I hope Andy comes over quietly since I’ll be asleep, to get Laura’s $40 I’ll be leaving in between the front doors for him and to leave me the journals he has for me. I don’t know what his obsession is with turning visits and picking things up at people’s houses into such a big deal. He’s always got to make it such an ordeal for himself and put off and delay and just be a general nuisance.

I asked Andy if the journals he got me were wire-bound. Nope. Too bad.

Later…

I just thinned out the sawdust that was in the middle-size Play City cage, which is my least favorite cage of theirs. It’s got a weird layout. I thinned it out, though, cuz some little devil keeps pushing some sawdust out through the hole that the wheel that goes with that cage hooks into, onto my table below it.

A few of the mice are still up, but they’ll be going to bed soon. The cats have finally settled down out there. God, why do you send me the things I don’t want? I don’t need all these cats, God, so can you take these 3 cats, plus the millions more to come, then give me one child? Just one? No, of course not, and no, the cats haven’t settled down since White Feet just jumped up in the window. Is that a sign from God? One saying he wants me caring for animals and not a child? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

A part of me is tempted to move my computer into one of the bedrooms so I can concentrate better, but nah. It’s not worth the hassle and it’s no problem when I’m on days. See, there are advantages to both nights and days. The animals are asleep in the daytime and things are open, but then there’s noise from dogs, people, etc. At night, the animals are rowdy, but I’m pretty much free from next door’s shit. Until they have a dog barking in spurts again in the wee hours of the morning, anyway.

Later…

The freeloader has made his first of his many trips in and out early today. It just left, still without music. So, he’ll come and go again at around 11:00, then early afternoon, then late afternoon, then early evening. I think they’re drug runs he’s making. I just don’t know if it’s to buy or to sell. I’m sure they’re users, though, and that bitch’s bone-thinness is drug-induced.

Tom and I had a pleasant morning, but a half-hour ago he left for work. He’ll be back around when I crash between noon-2:00.

We didn’t have much time for screwing this morning, but we had a nice chat as we cuddled in bed.

He told me quite a few things about his mom that he’s just learning. Some of them he knew, some of them he just learned since the doctors are now saying she only has a year left to live, and these things are pretty horrible.

Ma’s life was no joyride, that’s for sure. In fact, she really had it rough all the way till the kids were pretty much grown. In the first part of her marriage, they lived in a trailer with no water or bathroom, and had to go down the street to go to the bathroom. Yuck! And that was considered a step up from being abandoned as a child. Apparently, her folks were just so poor, that she and one of the other kids were sent to some camp. The camp was an OK place. Then when it was time to go home, the parents had moved. So the state made them take them back, but then Ma’s ma died of cancer in her 30s. Then she had stepparents who were violent towards each other, drunk a lot, and ignored the kids, too.

Tom said that even though she went through all those horrible things, she never blamed it on God or felt she had “lived her life.” Well, I do believe there’s both a good and an evil force out there and it’s not that I feel I’ve peaked and lived my life in all ways. I know we’ll move someday and that I’ll have/do new things. I’m just saying I’ll never have a child. I wish I could feel that bad things happen just because and not feel that there’s a God or a devil to blame, but I do. And I wish I could work on my anger and patience problems, but sometimes it’s easy to look at such a wonderful person like Ma and say how I wish I could be like her in some traits, but then a whole different story to actually be like her and have some of her characteristics.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1998
Another weekend has just about arrived with these freeloaders as neighbors. Again, though, all’s been quiet. And at the same time, I love not knowing that they exist, I also know it’s just a matter of time before they make a ruckus again. But hopefully, I’m right about my now believing there is a chance they can hear me making late-night noise following their noise and that they don’t want to be bothered or awoken at night, so they shut up when they hear me. And I most certainly will make a lot of noise at night, should they give me their music, hours of bouncing balls, or anything that intrudes upon my peace/concentration/nerves.

I wish it could always be this way - no excessive door slamming, no dog, no music, but I know that’s just a dream. He could be coming in for lunch again lately with music, but if he is, I wouldn’t know it cuz I’ve been asleep around lunchtime. I also couldn’t say how he’s coming in after work, either.

I wonder, though, are they ever gonna break the fuck up? Or are they bound by an addiction to be together forever? Since the dog arrived right around when he returned with the boy, unless the boy’s always been there and I didn’t know it, the dog may have also been a gift for the bitch to let him back in, too, besides to torture me with for going off on them and just because they knew it would bother me.

Anyway, Tom and I discussed going over to his ma’s on Monday, the day we’ll be going to the store, to see her, Neva and Peggy, but now Tom says he hopes I don’t want to go. He says they’re loud and all that, so fine, we don’t have to go. I only care to see just Mom anyway, since I don’t even know Neva and Peggy.

Got an email from Evie and through her indirect, but to the point enough, bitching about the never-ending demands of motherhood, I realize once again just how gifted I may be, rather than cursed. I would be far from upset, although scared if I found out this second I was pregnant, but again, is it worth crying over the fact that the doctors won’t be able to help me conceive?

Anyway, she wants to know if she and the kids can come visit in March. I asked Tom what he thought after we both wondered aloud what the sudden interest was. I hope she doesn’t feel sorry for me since I mentioned I can’t have kids. Anyway, Tom reminded me that March is teeth month. I told her I’ll have to go weekly in March, then it’ll drop down to monthly for probably 18 months. Also, we’ll get together at a later date, but I don’t know when.

I don’t mind her coming over at all, it’s just that you know how it is for me with people breaking things whenever someone visits. Andy’s been fine lately, but who knows how he’d be if he came over as much as he used to? I don’t want to just come out and demand she hold those kids down while she visits, but they worry me. As I told her, this house isn’t baby-proof and not as safe. I can’t afford to have two kids trashing things in here. Neither of us needs that. That’s another burden I’d have had to have gone through if we had had a kid - elevating everything up out of its reach. Now Evie doesn’t strike me as your typical mom who’s irresponsible and who doesn’t give a shit. I think she’d be kind enough to watch her kids, but it’s hard and I understand this. Marla’s a lot like her and yet I had to be the one to keep her youngest kid from ransacking this place. And from killing the animals. The idea of it reminds me of Ashley, Kara’s kid at the Vista. As soon as she released that thing from her grip on her lap, off it was to destroy things.

It’s pretty light out there now and not as cold as it had been. I don’t know if it’s gonna rain or not, but the sky’s nothing but clouds. That’s why it’s light out and things are illuminated well enough for even someone like me to see who’s a bit night blind.

The older couple out back, one of whose name is Gloria and who came to our tag sale, must be insomniacs. Every time I’m up throughout the night, I see what I believe is their bathroom light every hour or two.

Later…

I’m really looking forward to getting this weekend done and over with and going shopping. If I could make it Monday morning at the snap of my fingers, I would.

I still can’t believe that freeloader hasn’t tried to have me re-served and I can’t believe there hasn’t been noise daily for more than a few minutes. You mean to tell me I did something that I actually got away with? It seems unbelievable! I’m not stupid, though, I knew that if I didn’t have to deal with the hassles of court, even though it wouldn’t have done them any good, or if they didn’t make a scene in a big way every day (not that I wouldn’t kill them for it), that God would pay me back. He’d see to it that I got my punishment for that bottle toss, although I think sterilizing any woman is more than a lifelong punishment for anything she could ever do wrong in her life. In fact, the punishment of sterility could never fit any crime committed by me. Maybe someone else, but not me.

It is a bit of a consoling thought to know that that’d cost a lot of money for him to run the car and its stereo for several minutes every day in time. There have been a few times where he did weeding, ball playing, or just sat there for the hell of it with it blaring for more than a few seconds, but still, I thank God this hasn’t seemed to be something he finds worth the cost so far. Trust me, though, if it gets worth the cost to him, he won’t have a stereo left to blast. I’m surprised I haven’t heard music regularly from their house, but then again I’m not. They really only make these super bassy stereos for cars. The idea is for the lonely, desperate wanna-be-heard people of this sick world, is to cruise through many streets with it. So, since the basic idea for such inhumane bass levels is to get attention, you can only get a handful of house’s attention in a house. In a car, you can get hundreds. And the attention of other motorists.

Later…

Oh, brother! Andy’s lonely, so he wants to talk. God! Send him a boyfriend, please?! I knew it’d be a matter of time when he’d be up to his same old phone shit. We just talked and exchanged messages last night, but he’s all bummed out cuz he couldn’t get sex from that sick fuck Quinn.

He’s ready to get Laura’s rent money and God, I hope to hell this isn’t a monthly thing! I’m gonna tell him to just leave the journals he got for me in the door and I’ll leave the money out, too, cuz I’m not gonna play phone several times a day for 3 days prior to his visit that he’s 4 hours late for. So rather than try to change his ways, we’ll just do it this way for a while, and that way he won’t feel pressured. Meanwhile, I’m not gonna be put out of my way by an irresponsible druggie.

Guess it’s time to stop feeding these stray cats again. They’re really getting on my nerves and taking advantage of my hospitality once again. Therefore, if I don’t give them anything for a few days, maybe they’ll put two and two together and realize that their racket and pushiness means no food.

Later…

I just went out and sort of made Bunny come in. He prefers it outside at this time of year, but I just thought I’d let him and Velvet visit. Oh my God, though! I can’t believe the change in Bunny. He always took care of and was friendly to Piggy and Spunky and loved to clean them, but not with this one. Every time Velvet would get near him, he’d lunge at him and Velvet was screaming, so I threw Bunny back out. I guess the cats taught him that by the way he and they play tag a lot. Well, he’s gonna have to stay an outdoor rabbit then and he’ll have to find a way to survive the heat of the summer. Everyone’s dogs do it, so he should be OK, too.

Jesus Christ! It sounds like a distant kennel out there and it’s just after 3:00 in the morning. I can hear at least 4 different dogs. Does anyone care about their dogs or their neighbors anymore?

Tom was really pissed about how they fucked up on fixing the oil leak in Ma’s car. I don’t blame him, either. Shit, though, we have two cars and two houses! We don’t need this shit. We need to move and live our own lives.

Andy, who had to leave the maximum amount of time permitted for each message as always, told me he had a dream involving my parents. He said he was at their place, and they were assembling stuff to send to me. He asked what the occasion was for them to be sending me stuff since it wasn’t my birthday or anything like that. Then he said they were throwing in some ugly journals and he told them I don’t want them anymore, cuz I’ll be making my own. Then he said they were putting in other stuff that he said I’d like, but can’t remember what the stuff was.

Later…

I am thoroughly confused the more I think of Bob’s case. Tom and I were talking yesterday about how statutory rape means you had sex with someone underage and it’s a crime even if they were willing, which is what we thought Bob was charged with.

However, I just went and checked the old article I have and although you can’t always buy what the papers say, he was charged with statutory rape, forcible rape, and distributing alcohol to minors.

The distributing alcohol, I can see him being dumb enough to do. I can also see him screwing around with a teenager, but only an older one. Not a 12-year-old one and certainly not forcing sex on anyone. It just isn’t Bob P. It’s not the old fart’s style and he’s just too much of a wimp to force anyone to do anything.

Well, no one will ever really know what happened, other than the people who were there.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1998
Velvet’s adjusting pretty well. He stands still and lets me pick him up now, rather than running away. He loves to burrow under my neck/hair when I take him out.

I should’ve known better, too, that just cuz I can digest dairy easier, doesn’t mean God’s suddenly gonna change his mind about controlling my body. I’m back up to 128 pounds, but I’ve been sticking to the diet like I’m supposed to. God just isn’t gonna let me be thin again, that’s for sure. Not if I’m gonna be able to breathe better, he’s not.

The thing I hate about God, or whatever this outer source is, is that I’m powerless to stop whatever it is. This isn’t some other human being that I can reach out and wring their neck. This is some force that’s got me at its own mercy and whatever it says, is how it goes. I just wish it’d go pick on someone else and go control their lives/body for a change and leave me the fuck alone and give me the freedom to choose my own path and my own destiny in this life. It should be my right to be able to be thin. It should be my right to have a child. Nobody, not no God, not no person, should have the control/right to tell me how to live my life. And I know this weight thing is just because God wants me to be fat, and not cuz of a medical problem. Even if I did have a medical problem, he’d never let it be detected by a nurse/doctor. He wouldn’t want it discovered cuz he wouldn’t want me to deal with it and fix it. He’d want it to keep on controlling me.

When I look for things to say I’m wrong about my fear that Tom doesn’t want a kid, I realize this - he’d never leave like most men do if we had a kid. I just know this. He’s the responsible type, who’s practical and logical. He wouldn’t ever want to give the baby mice to the cats cuz of how it’d play on his conscience, so maybe his devotion to getting rid of the mice in the responsible way we did, is a sign that I’m wrong about him. I sure hope so!

Mary and Dave got a small, black cocker spaniel the other day from the HS.

I tackled the cleaning in here and got that out of the way. Did some singing, too. Now I think I’ll go do some reading.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1998
OK, here’s what we “say” we’re gonna do, but if we can really do it without making excuses or chickening out, remains to be seen, not to mention the curve balls God will throw at us, or the things he may do to block us entirely.

Within the next 3 weeks, he’s gonna set us up with the right doctors and make an appointment for himself. Then, I’ll make an appointment for me. If all is OK with us both, then we’ll set up an appointment with the fertility people.

He still knows in his mind that a child is gonna happen. I know differently, but at least I can finally deal with my emotional state by having a doctor tell me there’s nothing they can do. That way I’ll know I didn’t make excuses or chicken out and that I went and found out what the scoop was that’s caused my sterility. Then, I can hopefully move on with this sort of closure.

I wish I knew he could be right about it happening anyway, no matter what, and I also wish I knew I could be right about his mother. He wonders if her having her sister Neva and Neva’s daughter Peggy visit, is due to her feeling she hasn’t got much time left. Well, I can see God feeling she’s done her time and with her gone, people wouldn’t have to worry so much or have as much to do (till it was replaced with new stuff to do), but she’s such a sweet lady. She’ll be missed and it’ll be sad to see her go whenever she does go. It’s too bad I didn’t have the 25 years or so to have known her and dad like Nora has.

Later…

I’m down a pound or two and Tom says it really does work - the Slim-Fast diet I’m on. It’s an easy plan too, and I know it works, but the question still is - will God let it work for me?

Anyway, I’m gonna go relax with my decaf coffee which I’ve been having plenty of, and maybe do some reading, too.

I sang earlier and it was a complete compensation for the night before as I knew it would be. Last night I sang great. It was crystal clear and all was fine, but tonight my typical trade-in for not smoking allergy nose that’s 10 times worse since I quit smoking, was in the way. God, either give me the voice to sing with and leave it alone and let me use it or just forget it! I feel like I’m being teased with this gift and like something up there wants me to pay for using this voice. It’s like it’s teasing me with it, allowing me to use it, but only with a price to pay. Can’t I ever have something for nothing? I don’t care how much of a cheap Jew or a cheap person that sounds like, either. It’s just that I’m so sick of having to work for this and pay for that. I just wish God would bless me with something where there were no strings attached for once.

Later…

I won’t write much now, cuz I’m frying up some chicken for me and the cats.

Anyway, the Lactaid still helps me to digest dairy without gas, cramps and bloating, so that’s good. I’m down from 128 to 125. I’m shocked and pleased, but still not willing to get my hopes up. I seem to have mustered up the will to stick to the diet plan, but now, I have to wait and see if God will let me do this.

Later…

Got a message from my folks saying congratulations for not smoking - they’re proud of me.

Gotta get Tom up soon. I guess he goes in at 11:30 tonight. He’s hoping to find a job within the bank that’ll give him set hours instead of having to go in at 7:30 one night, midnight the next, then 1:30, then 11:30.

I am now perfectly content with sex once a week, which is basically all our busyness/schedules will allow us to have.

I’m not looking forward to this weekend since they were quiet last weekend. I figure they’re gonna make up for quiet time sooner or later and I just hope to hell this weekend isn’t it cuz I’ll be asleep during the daytime. Or for the later part of the day, which is when they’re more active. Between 2 or 3 PM - around 8 PM on weekends, is when they’re more apt to make a scene.

Anyway, on Monday we’ll be going shopping. I want to get some new pet toys. I’m gonna get a new cage for the mice and new tubes/wheels. Then I may get myself a few larger pairs of panties, and a couple of pairs of sweatpants. Hopefully, this will be it as far as buying bigger clothes and I’ll end up back into my smaller clothes, but time will tell.

Ma’s sister Neva and her daughter Peggy were due to arrive from Michigan today. Hopefully, they got here OK. They’ll be here for a week. Then the week after that when I’m mid-cycle, God can again act like there’s some big pregnancy to dodge and tie Tom up with the move into Mary’s house.

Here’s our current plan that he and I discussed, but I don’t know. I just know something will come up to botch up our plans. He’s gonna get scared and use me as an excuse to put off or bail out or manipulate the doctors, should we ever get to these people. They say to trust your gut instinct. Well, either I’m paranoid (which I wish was the case, since no one likes to know their suspicions are legit) or I have a reason to suspect like I do that Tom will somehow either con his way out of the doctors altogether or con them out of helping us to have a child. Like I said, I hope I’m wrong. I hope it’s just a case of my being paranoid, due to those whom I was supposed to have been able to trust, that fucked me over in the past.

I felt kind of hurt and insulted at how he said since he’s never had an ear done like I did to see if I’d stand by him and still love him like he did for me, he has his doubts in me. He fears what I’ll tell the doctors about my believing he doesn’t want a kid. Then why’s he afraid of that if that’s not the case as he insists? I told him I wouldn’t say anything about his not wanting a child/not cumming out of fear. If that is the case, then I trust that these doctors, being the professionals that they are, would pick up on that and would address the issue themselves if they felt that was an issue. Anyway, I certainly wouldn’t want to see him have to go through the pain of having his head drilled like I did. I wouldn’t want to see him have to suffer in any way, but hopefully someday, someway, he’ll see that he can count on me to still love him and stand by him should he be unfortunate enough to ever have some trauma or big ordeal going on with him.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1998
Ma’s car needs work done on it cuz it leaks oil. Just another thing that’s gotta be dealt with and that we gotta give our time to. The good thing about it is that Tom’s taken it into a shop to have them do it, so he doesn’t have to spend all the more time on it that he doesn’t have.

Although light, I finally did have a good flow there for a while and some cramps. So, I’d say that there’s nothing wrong with my cycle and that it’s normal for me for it to be the way it is.

Tom’s excuses and his stalling on entering some kind of fertility program don’t really bum me out as much these days. First off, I really don’t want to make my husband do something I know he doesn’t want to do, regardless of what he says and secondly, I guess I just realize there’s so much good in not having a child. I’d still take one if it could come, of course, but since it can’t, I focus more on the bright side of never having one, and in doing so, I can see all the good in it.

Tomorrow’s the day I hope to hell that all these mice are gone. That seems a little too good to be true, though, so maybe most of them will be gone at least. I figured God’s gotta make up for how easy it was to get rid of those I didn’t want the last time by having it take longer to get rid of these and by not being able to get rid of them all at once.

So far, so good. The reason I couldn’t do the Slim-Fast diet plan, which is so simple and is only a matter of one’s own will, was cuz of my intolerance to dairy products. I had been hesitant to try anything available for help with that cuz I was afraid it’d be BS like most things are. But so far, so good, thank God! I don’t seem to have the usual bloating, gas, and cramps that occur whenever I have dairy products.

Later…

Getting the last journal bound sure was a bitch. I kind of had to do it backward cuz it was too hard to get the paper onto the wire without something sturdy supporting it.

I’m also switching coffee to help against having sore tits every fucking month. I was lucky if I could get halfway through my cycle before having sore tits. And caffeine is the number one cause of that. So now I hopefully won’t have to have sore tits for 2 or 3 weeks before each period. I got regular decaf coffee that I’ll brew in the Malita. I make great cinnamon coffee, too, by adding a pinch of cinnamon to the grinds before watering them down.

Anyway, I’m gonna go and check out the last library book I have here.

Later…

The freeloader just let me know he was in for the night by two door slams, but not as bad of a slam as he could give me and it’s better than music.

Thank God I woke up when I did, cuz I’d have been woken up for damn sure what with the storm we had. My folks had this storm too, as did the whole country. There was lots of thunder and lightning, some rain, but boy were there huge pieces of hale! I thought it was gonna take out the living room window for a minute there and Tom and I had to shout to hear each other over it. The backyard was Memory Lane for me as it looked like when the snow is beginning to melt back east. Didn’t bother Bunny, though. Nonetheless, there were scattered thin patches of hale all over the place and it took a couple of hours for it to melt.

Here it goes again. It’s raining again out there.

In other news, Tom brought the 32 babies to the pet store and thankfully, the woman there thought they were so cute that she took them all. So, they’re on sale for $1.50 each and hopefully they’ll go to good homes with people who’ll love them. I was surprised they were selling for $1.50 and not $2.50. I thought $2.50 was what we paid for the original 3, but not according to Tom.

So, I scrubbed everything down, which took forever, and the smallest Play City cage that Mary gave me, finally cracked up. It had cracks in it for a while from normal wear and tear, but it finally demolished itself as I was trying to attach a tube to it.

So now I have 10 ladies - Shy, Ziggy, Tanner, Patch, Baby Patch, Tanner, Spot, Star, and the two Cocoas.

Just took a moment to appreciate and enjoy the peace and quiet from dogs till tomorrow morning. Just think, if that dog, or any dog, were next door right now, it’d be yipping away and all the more of a task it’d be to keep from running over there and beating the living shit out of them.

Later…

God, just give me a reason to need a hysterectomy! I still feel that that’d be the best thing since there’s no way I’ll ever have a child. That way I wouldn’t have to deal with periods, any more than I’d have to deal with going to the doctors and what it may do to our relationship. Is our love really strong enough to withstand all the testing and questions they’d ask us? Well, since I’m sort of scared to find out as much as I’d still like a child, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting up the guts to find out if I just needed a hysterectomy.

We all have things we want in life that we can never have by any means or under any circumstances. If I had that kid right now, I’d just have some other problem. Everyone has problems and if it isn’t this, it’s that.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1998
Where’s White Feet? I haven’t seen her/him all day.

Just another day and hopefully all, if not most, of these damn baby mice will be gone. They stink! It’s not so much that they themselves stink, it’s all the piss. It smells like someone wet a bed in here and it’s just so gross. Another good thing about never being able to have a kid, too. Anyway, I changed the two cages that the babies are in, but not the adults and the two babies I’m keeping yet. It’s not as bad in here now.

I counted about $45 in change that I’ve been saving. I’d like to get a couple of new T-tubes and a couple of purple Snap-On wheels for the mice. I also want to pick up a few more bigger pairs of panties and a couple of pairs of bigger sweatpants. That’s all I really need for now till I’m bigger in a few months and need to get more.

So, now I’m just doing stomach and thigh exercises since those are my worst areas. Like I said, it’s not doing me a damn bit of good, but I’m doing them anyway.

Tom picked up a couple of new pairs of jeans for himself today and I think I’ll treat him to a new robe if he wants one. His is rather old and worn.

Later…

Just thought I’d take a break from reading. I can see myself delving into true crime stories for a while until I find more supernatural suspense stories. The parts that are boring, though, are the trials. Whenever a trial is written within a story, you already know the story anyway. So I skim through those parts. What surprised me, though, is that the library only has one little section of true crime stories. With all the crime in this world, you’d think there’d be stacks and stacks worth of this shit. I want to try to find books about cases I’m less familiar with. That way, I’m learning something new along the way. Or more things that are new, anyway, but it’s the big cases that get turned into books and movies. And we already know about people like Amy Fisher and Jeffrey Dahmer through news reports and people talking.

I went and looked and was wrong about having two more journals like this to print up. Yes, I do have two more like this, but then there’s another one that’s a little different. It’s got more pages and is the same width, but is a little shorter.

It’s too bad Andy got me two a while back and I told him not to buy me more cuz of having the equipment for journal-making. He said he found them on sale at Walmart, where I got 4 of the ones I’m printing, for just a couple bucks each, and wanted to get me about 20 of them. That’s really sweet of him, but they’re just not needed now.

Later…

White Feet’s out there now. Guess she went exploring. Although I do think he’s a he. I think Blackie’s a she, though.

I’m giving that hair removal system another try. I removed tit hairs and some from my lower belly, but I still think it’s a crock. We’ll see, though.

I also chatted with Andy for a while. As tired as he was, he’d have gladly spoken with me for hours, but after an hour we hung up. He understands. I’m just now beginning to be able to not think of smoking when on the phone, but I’m still not the phoneaholic I used to be and that he still is.

All in all, I’d say it took 3 months till it began getting easier. Now I don’t remember smoking in everything I do and I don’t miss it every other minute anymore.

I told Andy that if he felt he just had to get something for my last birthday, to just get some 70s CDs whenever in doubt of what to get me. It’s the thought that counts, but Andy likes to get presents, too, when he can.

Anyway, the wonderful thing about Andy is that so far, every day this year, he’s been in a great mood. I’m so glad for him. He had enough misery, anxiety and depression. He’s still without love, but he’s making good money at work and is happy and glad to be alive.

I told him that Marla said she’d be sending his birthday present. She sent a message as she does periodically at this time of year. She works in the school’s office with a boss from hell, as she says, and what with two kids, she doesn’t have much time for email.

Later…

Guess Tom will be home in just over an hour. That is unless they make him stay late. He’s hoping for a job within the bank that’ll give him more predictable hours. Yeah, but my schedule will still be unpredictable in most ways and we’ll still never know when and if we can spend much time together. The good thing about it, though, is that it makes our time together all the more special.

The cats are doing a better job lately of respecting my hospitality and they’re not banging on the door every second at night, but now it’s time for their last can of food for the day. White Feet must be hungry. Then I’ll probably just read till it’s bedtime.

A part of me is not looking forward to returning to writing journals by hand since I’ve found reading as a good way to fill in the time I’m not writing by hand since typing is so much faster. Well, it is for me, anyway. I can type almost as fast as I talk, and I talk kind of fast. Maybe I’ll think of some project for the last 5 I’ll be writing. I’d fill Andy’s with all kinds of gibberish for Bob, but the prison officials wouldn’t allow something like that sent in. Or they’d say it was OK, then return it to me saying it’s not OK after I took all that time writing it. I wish Nervous was still alive or some sucker like that that’d read it through. If Nervous was alive and still obsessed with me, he would, but the more stable people I know like Kim, probably wouldn’t have time to read it all and may even get bored with it.

Got a boring Bob letter today with the same old, same old. He still writes once in a while, and I can’t say I wish he’d write more, either.

Speaking of reading, I still have to resume the proofreading of my journals. I’ve got about 30 left to go.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1998
In my letter to Larry, I told him something I’d been contemplating telling him. I finally said fuck it, if he’s got a problem with what I told him, tough shit. I just wanted to spare him any possible surprises in the future. So, I told him that I respect his relationship with Ronnie G, wouldn’t want to change that, and would’ve maybe kept in touch with him throughout the years if he could’ve let the past be in the past, but since he hasn’t been able to leave the past in the past and chooses to ignore me, he’s gonna have to do so in all aspects of my life. Meaning, I know I can’t force him to associate with me, but he can’t be at mom or dad’s funerals, cuz if I’m there, I do intend to physically remove him, I told him. I also told him that as far as I’m concerned, none of the problems I’ve had with Ronnie in the past, have a damn thing to do with us. Not unless he wants to make it have anything to do with us. I’m sure he’ll take it in an understanding way, but like I said, if he doesn’t, that’s his choice. We all have to do what we have to do.

Tom got a big piece of cardboard that he says will cut easily. This is what we’re gonna hopefully use to make journal covers. I prefer hardcovers, but if it turns out that making hardcovers is that much of a bitch, then I’ll just use soft covers.

Later…

I explored some more Microsoft spreadsheets, databases, templates, etc., and I printed out one of their ready-laid-out floral envelopes.

Did lots of reading, too.

Maybe I’ll send Paula a letter for the hell of it since it’s been a while. What the hell’s that girl’s problem? Why’s it so hard to get in touch with me? Well, I always did say Paula was a ditz for a reason.

Shelly still continues to choose to have no contact with me. For all I know, she could’ve forgotten and lost anything with my name and number on it, but this is doubtful. Shelly’s not like Paula. She does have a brain in her head. I also don’t really think that she chooses to not contact me cuz of the past. I think it’s more personal. I think there’s something about me personally that bugs her.

Still nothing from Anne or Harry, either, but after hearing from them that one time after the first letter I sent since being out here, I kind of figured deep down that would be it. No pictures or any more letters from there on out, but I’m glad I sent them the pictures of Tom and I that I scanned. Of course, the pictures I scanned for them were before I got so big.

I’ve been doing stomach exercises regularly for over a week now and by now I should begin to notice a slight difference, but I don’t. See I’m telling you, and I vibe it strongly, God doesn’t want me to lose weight. Or to tone up for that matter. Now that I’m not running around asking, “How the hell am I ever gonna get off these damn cigarettes?” anymore, he just has to make sure I have a replacement and am now running around asking, “How the fuck am I ever gonna lose weight?” Well, I ain’t giving him the satisfaction no more.

Later…

We had our bi-weekly, but this time weekly fun in bed. I faked an orgasm and he pulled out saying that’s just his liking variety, but I’m pretty sure he just couldn’t get into it, either. We love each other dearly, but the sex has just gotten rather old. If there’s anything that is normal about our sex, though, it’s that that’s a common thing for couples who’ve been together longer than a year. It still sounds so funny coming from me. I mean, I just never thought I’d be able to say I’ve been with someone for nearly 5 years. It’s a good feeling, though. Especially when it’s with someone you love so very much that you’ve been with despite the suspicions on one or two subjects I’ve had about him, it’s been a great relationship and I believe we’ll be together forever. Our number one goal in life is the same and that is to be together forever.

For the last two months or so, it seems my sexual drive has lowered itself, but I can’t say it’s worth complaining about. Cuz of our busyness and schedules, we cannot have sex regularly. And also, it helps curb the baby desires for some strange reason.

My period is doing some strange things again, although not as strange as last month. Again, there’s no way I could be pregnant, but does this have anything to do with why I’m so fat? I was fat in my late teens due to not getting periods cuz of that Navane garbage I was on. I’m not spotting like last month, but it’s off to a very, very slow start. It’s still not normal. I should have a full flow by now and I know I’ll get one without a doubt in my mind, but still, I should either have a period or not have a period. Not kind of or intermittently, so to speak.

The freeloaders were quiet all weekend, so I won’t be stirring up any late-night noise, although one of these days, I may just stoop myself as low as they are and do shit without a reason, but it’s hard. See, I have a conscience and I’d personally feel guilty about bothering someone that either never did shit to me, or that has been quiet lately. So, I put Tom’s basketball back in his closet for now. The damn thing’s so heavy, too. No wonder they’re so loud and obnoxious sounding.

Tom got a new pedal for his car racing games on the computer, so he’s happy. It’s nice to see him on the computer more than at the TV.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1998
I weighed myself both before and after having a beef patty. I was a pound heavier after having the patty. I really am running on no metabolism here and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to up it. I could maybe, just maybe, if I jogged in place or something like that for 5 hours every day, but that’s not gonna happen, so this is just yet another bodily function I have no control over, just like with the sterility, that I have to just learn to accept and live with. It’s hard, though. It really is hard at times to deal with.

Great news! But first - just as I vibed, we won’t be getting rid of the mice till Tuesday and we may not be getting rid of all of them, either. That girl Shayla, said 32 mice are too many for her, but if worse came to worse, she’d take them. I think this other store that Tom was on the outskirts of the city will take about 20 of them, but Tom said he felt they may take them all.

Tom got an all-black guinea pig out near Scottsdale today! It’s a male and the lady at the store said he was 12 weeks old, but he seems more like 6 weeks to me. Anyway, I guess he was born sometime at the end of ‘97. He’s so adorable, but here’s something new that I’ve never seen or heard of done on GPs before. Well, he has an earring on one ear. It’s a little silver staple-like thing, similar to a leg band that a bird would wear. Because of his jet-black, velvety fur, which is softer than any other GPs I ever felt, I’ve been calling him Velvet. He’s really gung-ho on burying himself in my hair, this one, and is eating already, but is still too timid for the usual chattering they do when you take them out and pat them. When I say that he’s eating already, I mean that they usually don’t eat much on their first day or two in a new home. At first, Tom thought of Lightening as a possible name for him cuz he’s so fast and curious with the way he looks all around him, but before settling on Velvet, I thought to myself, Well, I’m not gonna call him the N pig, and giggled to myself. Andy, by the way, thought the name I addressed their letter to, was hilarious as all hell. He too, calls people certain names just to vent, but we know there are just as many white assholes and if these sick fucks were white, I’d call them some other names to vent my anger. This is why, though, these freeloaders have so many friends. Cuz most people are assholes, therefore, you’d fit in just fine with most people if you were one, too. But people like Tom and I choose not to have so many friends, cuz we don’t care for most people’s ways. I don’t need to associate with these liars, thieves, head players, etc.

My hope/guess that they’d back off after freaking out on me last weekend has been the case so far. I heard his car door, so I know he came and went the usual 4 to 6 times, but no music or ball games. Even the door slamming’s been way, way better. They used to slam their doors much harder and many times in a row, too.

I wonder where the fuck this dude goes every weekend so many times. Does he ever just stay in all day ever? He probably goes off to see his phony guy pals.

Still no dog over there and I’ll continue to enjoy every minute that there isn’t, cuz it’s just a matter of time now.

Speaking of animals, that bitch of a cat is pregnant again, as figured. Tom thinks she’ll take off and have them elsewhere so that these two kittens don’t kill them if either of them is male. It’s a male cat’s instinct, for reasons I can’t comprehend, to kill kittens. I think she will have them here and that if White Feet or Blackie are males, they won’t kill them. I think they’re too tame now to do that, instinct or not, but God will do what he feels is best. If he wants me to take care of them, he’ll make sure they live and are here in our yard. However, if they were born here and not killed by White Feet or Blackie, I think I’d be tempted to break their little necks myself. We don’t need no cat farm out there. The 3 cats we have are more than enough, on top of birds, mice, a rabbit, and a GP.

Tom got a new word processor, but as of yet, I’m not impressed with it. So for now, I’ll keep using the one I’ve been using.

We made a really neat spreadsheet of all the animals. The spreadsheet consisted of their description, names, DOB, and type, but we pretty much had to guess on some of the DOBs.

Later…

The oldest babies are now officially sexually active. I knew that the moment I heard screeching sounds. The ladies obviously don’t like to screw, cuz they run and squeak like hell when the males go to jump them.

My period’s beginning and so far seems to be more normal than the last one was.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1998
Well, that dreaded weekend has arrived. I’m gonna hope that cuz they just took a fit last weekend and cuz they don’t want to be reminded that I exist as I think they know they will be if they act up, they’ll give me a break this weekend, but we’ll see.

The fact that I can never have a kid and that I can’t lose weight still bothers me here and there. I’m now enjoying the last of the 120s, cuz I know that it’s just a matter of time before the 120s are a thing of the past. Hell, I’ll wish to hell I was 127! Especially when I’m something like 145.

Why is God doing this to me? Why won’t he let exercising take to me? It’s helped my back to feel better, but it hasn’t made me one bit firmer or any smaller. He just won’t let it work for me. Instead, I’m wasting my time and going against his plans for me, but why has he got it in his plans for me to be heavy? What’s the point? Is it to pay for all the years I was thin? And why is it that I have to pay for any good thing I get in this life? Can’t he just give me something without slapping a price on it? Without expecting something in return?

Meanwhile, I just try to tell myself he knows best and that it’s for a good reason; not all necessarily a punishment or compensation. It helps to ease my fears about his power and his ways.

Tom once told me that he’s so absent-minded that he sometimes forgets to do the things he wants to do. In other words, what he’s trying to say is, don’t mind him if he “forgets” to do something regarding the fact that we can’t have a child.

He’s already putting off and making excuses, saying it’s an all-day thing to get us set up with new doctors. True or not, if it’s worth it to him, he’ll do it. He’ll find the time for it.

Given the freak chance that there’s a procedure available that they could do to impregnate me, and given the one in a million chance that God let it stay there for 9 months, you’re talking at least two years. So, there’s no use in worrying if we should wait till we move to have a kid if God decided we should have that choice, cuz that’d be about how long all the testing and procedures would take.

As for my weight, in the meantime, that just keeps on going up slowly but surely, I have no logical explanation for it other than that it’s God’s will. I’m not eating like a pig and I am exercising, so my metabolism shouldn’t be as slow as it apparently is unless some higher power is manipulating it. I don’t have symptoms of a whacked-out thyroid, which is about the only medical cause for weight gain that I can think of.

And as much as I’d be thrilled to have a kid yesterday and know that we could obtain one the natural way, I agree with Tom when he said he hoped I wasn’t pregnant. If the new research is correct and not all hype, then the few cigarettes I had could cause it to have asthma. They’re saying that smoking early on in pregnancy causes asthma.

Well, even though my last period was screwy in the way that I was spotting for 3 days prior to a slow buildup to somewhat of a full flow, it was still enough to take a baby out. It’d be too much for it to survive, cuz the more you bleed, the less likely it is to be able to hang on as the currents of blood flush it out.

If I have another screwy period, then maybe there’s something else going on like with my hormones. That’s something God would screw with, too. Yeah, leave it to him to mess with my hormones, something that’s important in reproducing.

On the other hand, my abnormality isn’t so abnormal in a sense. Whenever there’s a family of more than two kids, there’s always one that can’t have kids. Or that won’t have kids, like Andy.

Later…

Right now, trying to read isn’t very easy. I’m stressed out and having trouble concentrating, cuz I know that any second, some scum-sucking, rude, selfish, lonely asshole, could blast by and distract me.

I think our little filthy black beast is in for the night, though. I think I heard a door that sounded within the carport and it is unlikely for them to have company on a Friday night. I wish this weather, as dreary as it is, would continue on throughout the weekend, but as is the case 99 out of 100 weekends, the weather’s gonna be great. It’s just that while they don’t like it as much when it’s not hot, they hate it even more when it’s rainy out. At least there’s no dog over there cuz if there was one over there right now, I’d be forced to listen to it right now for another hour or two. After having to listen to a dog over there with this sick fuck twice, there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not thankful that there’s no dog over there. I don’t take it for granted.

Weekends, however, are notorious for loud stereos zinging by.

So, even though 3 hours of basketball is more likely in the summer (and this was also to bait me to see if they could catch me doing something for their rude noise, on top of bugging me) God still may send some other kid that doesn’t even know them to play ball for a while and they won’t run out and shoo them away, either.

Well, maybe they’ll leave me the fuck alone this weekend, seeing how they just let me have 3 hours of being made to acknowledge them and seeing how I didn’t do anything but believe me, I kill them with my bare fists every day in my mind.

Another reason that keeps them together longer than most couples, is how he’s so weak, insecure, and young. She’s a middle-aged bitch, and while she doesn’t have her shit anymore together than he does, he needs her to hold his hand and she needs someone to dominate. I know people well enough to be able to see this. I could tell from day one, and I think I made reference to this in these journals, that she was a little dominatrix of a bitch, while he was her phony little boy toy who loves every minute of her having him wrapped around her finger. Some people like that and they like to feel “owned” and bossed around. He probably couldn’t break free of her so easily if he wanted to. It’s more or less one of those addictive relationships. And as for her, he’s an object to dominate, use, and order around. He’s her sex, he’s her rides at times, he’s extra dough, he’s someone to dictate what to do so she can feel in control.

Now here’s a positive compensation for his being in the picture for this winter, and that’s that I haven’t had to run a fan constantly in the back room, cuz of the two guard dogs. At this time of year, they’re usually pretty out of control and barking up a vicious storm, but this winter has been the first winter I’ve been here where the situation wasn’t too bad.

Later…

I took a reading break, and now it’s time for a writing break. I’ve basically been bouncing back and forth between reading and writing today. The weather’s called for it. I mean, today’s the classic day for just lounging about, but so as not to feel too lazy, I’ve done some exercising in the midst of it.

Each of the 3 books I’ve got deals with cases of true crime.

The first one dealt with two teenage girls who were both raped, one was also killed, by two older teenage boys in a small town in Vermont.

The one I’m currently reading is about a woman so obsessed with this married guy, that she kills his wife. It’s one of those Betty Broderick fatal attraction stories.

The last one that I’ll read is about a woman stalked and raped twice by the same guy, and of the system that just doesn’t give a damn about shit like that.

These freeloaders’ reaction is so typical too, in their suspecting I bottled their carport, etc. Got to go run to the courts and expect them to play mommy and daddy. What is it with people and thinking that the courts can solve their problems with people? I just don’t get it. I know that if I have a problem with someone personally, then they are the ones to deal with. I believe in confronting the source directly and not having someone do it for me.

OK, enough about the naughty freeloaders for now. Back to my reading.

Later…

I’m heating up a cup of tea from the pot of tea that I made earlier, then it’s back to my reading. God! I couldn’t even read this much on Oswego St.

In case I never described the Mama Bitch and her kitties, the bitch is gray and white, White Feet’s black and white, and Blackie’s black.

I decided to keep two of the babies I liked that fortunately turned out to be females. One’s got a splotch of white on her back, so I call her Star. The other has a partially formed patch over one eye and I call her Baby Patch. So, that’s 10 mice. Ziggy, Shy, Spot, Tanner, Star, Patch, Baby Patch, Bandit, and the two Cocoas that are all brown and indistinguishable from one another.

Later…

And now I’ve gained another pound. Why? Why? Why? I’ve been exercising every day just about and haven’t been eating a pile of junk food or poorly, so what the fuck’s going on? Well, obviously there’s nothing I can do about it and I certainly can’t be pregnant what with pre-cramps that I’ve got. No problem with God answering my prayers that I not be pregnant at this time due to the cigarettes I had. No problem whatsoever. In fact, I should know better than to pray for something like that. Like it was even necessary for me to pray for something like that?! I don’t think so! I wish there really was something wrong with me that’s causing all this weight gain, cuz that’d be simpler, and then perhaps I could do something about it, but I know better. There’s nothing wrong with me, there’s nothing I can do about this, and I just have to live with it.

I got a letter from Kim today. She’s not doing too well. Her uncle died and she’s been laid off. She’s still alone, too, the poor girl.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1998
All’s well and good today as of yet. No freeloader shit, or anything else, although I can’t say for sure how the weekend will be. I’m sure they’ll do something to bother me.

Steven’s flown over for a visit and Tom got to see him this morning after work.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1998
Now here’s something I never do - fall asleep for 7 hours after only being up for 8 hours. I guess Tom’s theory for it must be right. I wasn’t fully over my cold like I had thought and had been doing a lot. Yeah, I was doing a lot, and that included a rigorous half-hour workout.

Later…

I slept again from 3 AM - 8 AM. Now I’m frying up some chicken and then I’ll work out.

The freeloader wasn’t a problem yesterday that I know of, so maybe, just maybe, they do hear me when I bang late at night and are like OK, OK. We want our peace and sleep so we’ll shut up for a while. I don’t know. We’ll just have to see what happens, but it’s a rather depressing thought to know I’m stuck with them a few feet away from me for two more years. Like a fly buzzing around my head that I just can’t get rid of. That’ll total 4 years of having the stress of these sick fucks on me, except for that time he took off for about half a year and only visited weekly or biweekly. I should’ve known, too, that he’d be back. I’ll tell you one thing for sure, and that’s that I won’t be using headphones all the time anymore, whether they can hear it or not. One thing I learned about Arizona is - don’t give a fuck about your neighbors, cuz they won’t give a fuck about you.

Later…

OK, I just ate, but am gonna wait a little bit before working out. I don’t want an upset stomach.

I just gave my 3 cats some chicken. Fortunately, though, Mama Bitch, as I now call her, doesn’t hang out there as much as the kittens. I’m feeding them again for two reasons. One is that they just won’t go away, and the other is cuz I don’t think it was just chance that sent them to me. I think God sent them to me cuz he knew I could handle it and cuz he wanted me to take care of them.

I’m going to have to make a very serious personal decision a couple of weeks from now. I’m really tired of how I keep outgrowing my clothes every few months and want to put a stop to this weight gain, even if I can’t lose weight. If another couple of weeks of having meat or poultry every day and exercising doesn’t produce results, I’m then gonna have to decide whether or not I just want to keep on living with it, enter a weight loss program, or go back to smoking. I just know that in the end, I’m gonna have to decide if I want to breathe more or be thin more. Smoking may be something I’ll have to get used to again and cause me to wheeze again and have to take inhalers regularly, and be a bit costly, but I do miss the vice; the act of smoking. And if I’m just gonna be fat and miss them, maybe I ought to just smoke and be thin. I miss being thin and the costs kind of come out the same if you add up the costs of the new clothes I have to buy from the weight gain. Or maybe it’ll stop any further weight gain. I just know that God’s not gonna let me have my cake and eat it too. It’s one or the other. Either I must be heavy, or I must wheeze away. Maybe I should smoke a few months here and there, who knows? At least now I know I can quit. As long as I have Tom’s support, the Nicorette gum for 12 weeks, and regular gum in between, I can do it. Then when the pounds add up again, I can smoke again.

Later…

I had Tom get me a pack of smokes. Once again, I feel a bit nauseous and there’s a foul taste in my mouth. I wonder how I did these things for so long and why I felt so compelled to get started and stick it out long enough to get used to these things in the first place. Guess living with my mother and psycho foster parents and funny farms was really tough, but nonetheless, it was I who put the damn things to my lips. My first relapse taught me it was better to miss them than to smoke. This one’s taught me to just take the fat. I don’t think I can get back into these things no matter how hard I try. So I just have to accept the fact that just like I can’t have everything I want in life, it’s either smoke and choke or be fat. I also feel kind of guilty and like I’m letting Tom down and throwing away all that hard work. After all, it was just beginning to get easier. I wasn’t missing my cigarettes nearly as much and when I did, it was OK. I could deal with it.

So, I’ll keep on exercising and eating at least one good meal a day as Tom and I agreed, then when I get to the 140 pounds I know I’ll get to, I’ll decide then if I just want to live with it, or if I should see a doctor and check out a weight loss program. I just don’t see what they can do for me that I can’t do for myself or that I haven’t already done. I think that if it were that easy and even possible to lose weight, your average person wouldn’t be overweight like they are. Maybe being fat isn’t the end of the world as long as I make sure I get new clothes every 3 months and be punctual about it so I don’t have to deal with the frustration of clothes that don’t fit for longer periods of time like I have been. I’ve been putting off getting new clothes and that’s not good. But like I said, perhaps being big is a small price to pay in order to be able to breathe, and new clothes, even every few months, can’t add up to the cost of cigarettes if I just get a few cheap things. I’m now a non-smoker, like it or not. Something I only dreamed of being for years, so yes, God does answer some of my dreams and you know what? It’s OK if he doesn’t answer my kid dream. I told Tom that if he said the word, I’d go to a doctor with him and I still would if it’s what he wants and if we can fit it into our lives, but as long as I have my husband and the ability to breathe and not have to live in fear of bad asthma attacks, I’ll be OK with no child. We’re going to be busy with my teeth, with moving, with family, and more. Also, if I took up smoking again, I couldn’t hide it from Andy, my folks, and Lisa forever. I could live with Andy and my dad getting on my ass about it, but it’d be much harder for me to live with Lisa knowing about it. We promised each other not to smoke and I can’t say for sure if she’s not smoking or ever will if she really isn’t, but I know how useless it is to tell a child not to smoke, while you’re sitting there puffing away. I was once that child being told that while her parents smoked. And her big sister. And her big brother.

I will also not touch a drop of alcohol again after finishing the 4 wine coolers I’ve got. There’s no reason to be drinking. I don’t need no substitutes no more. Just my gum.

I’ll ask Tom to please not mention my relapse to anyone, either. He can tell his side of the family whatever he wants, but I’m talking about Andy and the family on my side. There’s no need to get them all upset over a few smokes.

Later…

Apparently, the freeloader isn’t coming in for lunch these days and that’s just fine with me. However, it came and went at 10:30. There was no music, but I heard the kid cry. I still wonder why his hours are so weird. There is a pattern and a schedule, but there’s not. Anyway, we’ll just have to see how the fuck comes in at the end of the day.

I guess I’ll go read now and then maybe listen to some music. Mine, that is.

Later…

I managed to bind and close the previous book up, but I did do it a bit backward. I was supposed to load the paper onto the wire first, then attach it to the binder, but instead, I attached it to the binder, then loaded the paper. Oh well. It’s no biggie. I’ll just know better for the next 3 journals.

I’m gonna change colors every day in this book. I’ll use black, magenta, blue, dark cyan, red, dark green, dark red, and purple

Sounds like the freeloader’s not doing music, but is back to his door-slamming routine. Well, since they obviously are so adamant about my knowing they exist, I’ll take doors over music. At least he’s in for the night, cuz that was definitely an inside-the-carport slam.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1998
No freeloader noise today yet, but now that my cold’s over, I’m left with the daily allergy attacks. I had to take Benadryl, so now I’ll be drowsy.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1998
Yesterday we went to the library. I suggested it spontaneously, but we were a half-hour early before they were to open. We stopped at a dollar store to kill time and I got a palm tree photo album, colorful hair ties, and vanilla lip gloss. At the library, I got a few books on true crime. Tom didn’t find anything interesting.

We went to Staples too, where we got a program that types the words you speak, but it’s not very good. It doesn’t do very well at getting the right word. Sometimes it doesn’t even put words that are even close to what I say.

We also experimented with the puncher and crushed wires shut to make little booklets. I over-crushed mine a bit, but he did a fine job.

Then we returned just in time for a 3-hour ballgame next door, all in regard to me for damn sure.

Before I get into the fucking freeloaders and their latest shit, let me just say that I had my tooth filled today and early next month, they’ll take photos and do molds for the brackets, as well as pull the baby tooth. Then a week after that, they’ll put the brackets on.

The only good thing I can say in regard to the ball game 3 feet from the bedroom window is that it wouldn’t have woken me up with the fan added to the sound machine. Nonetheless, the bitch had two carloads of kids come over just to harass me (he wasn’t there throughout all this, though). I know it’s to bait me (as well as to piss me the fuck off). I noticed that the window that overlooks their carport had its blinds open, so I think they planned this with the hopes of catching me doing something in retaliation on videotape, so they could try harder to seek legal action against me. Their motives are rather obvious to me and also, the freeloader banged in and out today at around 1:30. He came in, then left two minutes later. It wasn’t too loud, it wouldn’t have woken me up, but it was still an obvious “I’m here” and “I’m leaving now” from this bastard.

Anyway, they’re not gonna get what they want as far as me doing something illegal for them on tape, but I wasn’t kidding when I said they were gonna have to hear me too, and be reminded that I exist too, and I can be noisy too, and I can force them to listen to me. Tom has an old basketball and I’ll be slamming that around the back patio and blaring music myself. Tom told me that this would make them louder, not cuz it bothers them since noise doesn’t bother them cuz they’re noisy people themselves, but cuz it’s me. So them being reminded of my presence would piss them off into making more noise. They’d use that as an excuse. Well, maybe he’s right. However, I don’t think these people need a so-called excuse to be noisy. I think they just don’t give a shit and that they’ll do whatever they’re gonna do, with or without an excuse. I was never noisy in the past to cause them to use that as an excuse to be noisy, so why would they need one now?

Well, just two more years. Just two more years of being forced to know when he’s coming and going, etc. And just two more years of being forced to feed 3 cats. They just won’t go away, so I’m feeding them to keep them off my ass. I’m getting more and surer that we’re stuck with them as neighbors till we’re out of here. Once you get a subsidized house, you don’t give it up. That bitch had to wait years for this and besides, where would they go? They’ll hang onto this house as long as they can unless they win the lottery and can get something better. Then two years after we’ve moved, God can replace me with something else, just like he replaced my healthier lungs with all this fat, etc. As Tom agrees, that’s just life. If you don’t have problems A, B or C, you have problems D, E and F.

Later…

I can’t sleep yet so I thought I would write. Right now I’m using the voice program that types what I say. It’s still not very good. I was doing some reading earlier, but now I am experimenting with this thing.

I’m still very pissed off about next door. I’m so fucking sick of their shit so I gave them a little bit of ball bouncing and I also played them a little segment of Rick and Nervous arguing. Prior to doing this, I had my music blasting. However, I’m virtually positive that they didn’t hear a damn thing. I don’t know if it’s just a matter of God’s will or if it’s something about this house and how it’s built. It shocked the shit out of me that they couldn’t hear it, but I went around to the side of the house and it was just a faint whisper. They’d practically have to be told that someone was playing music in here and still have to strain their ears to hear it in the middle of their fucking carport. I would think that out of the three different sources of noise that I stuck them with, it would be the basketball that they’d be most likely to have heard. They’re just on the wrong side of the house, so to speak. If we were in their house and they were in ours, that’d be a whole different story. Then I could really harass the shit out of them. But due to the angles of the two house’s setups, there’s just no way I can make myself as heard as they are.

It also may have not been a very smart thing to play that particular conversation between Rick and Nervous. This is because of how it’s got to do with harassing phone calls. Remember, we shouldn’t have any way of knowing that they were behind the phone calls to us because no one here is supposed to have sent any hate mail to them. It would also sound a lot less like there were two guys arguing that were out back live if one guy was telling the other that he’d be driving over to his place in 10 minutes.

Well, this was fun experimenting with this gadget and it’s definitely different, but I can type this 100 times faster and with 100 more times accuracy.

Right now things are pretty active in Mouse Land. Almost all wheels are being used at the moment.

I’m going to chat with Andy sometime tomorrow. In his last message to me, he said something about Laura and Gary wanting to move out at the end of the month. If they really do move, he’ll have more in the way of rent and bills, naturally, but then he won’t have to put up with what goes with having roommates.

OK, now I’m going to sign off.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1998
Just left Andy a happy birthday message. Now I’ll cover from where I last left off before we went out yesterday, till now.

I saw that it rained like hell when we got up today at around 5 AM. We’re supposed to get a Pacific storm sweeping through for today and tomorrow. I always like it to rain around here on weekends. It lessens the chance of any outside activities, even if there’s less chance of that at this time of year from the freeloader.

I got around to talking to Tammy, who admits Bill abused the kids to some extent but didn’t want to get into it. She also said, “Believe me, I’m doing what’s best,” when she said he has visitation rights, but how can that be? How can she be doing what’s best by letting a guy see her kids every day that hits them?

Tom got the paper puncher and the wires for journal-making but hasn’t found the cardboard for making the covers yet (not corrugated paper that we call a “cardboard” box).

Tom picked me up some library books while I was sick. As sweet as that was of him, I didn’t like any of the books, so we’ll go again together sometime soon and I’ll get something else.

We went to 6 different pet stores yesterday to look at GPs. One store was closed and the others had ugly or boring pigs. As for the mice, I decided to keep the 8 ladies I’ve got - Ziggy, Tanner, Patch, Spot, Shy, Bandit, and the two Cocoas. This way they won’t stink as much, I won’t have to change the cages every few days, and it’ll be easier to deal with. I think 8 mice is enough, after all.

Sorry, God. You can compensate me, but you can’t win on this one. Back when we had the waterbed, I’d sometimes feel a pressure-like discomfort when we’d screw lying on our sides. Now, instead of feeling that with this bed, I have more irritation at the opening. We screwed today which was the 2nd time in about a month, and I was so irritated that I almost yelled out in pain and stopped him. How can I have this much irritation after so little sex? I can’t obviously, so obviously it’s something up there that insists there’s always a problem with sex. If it’s not with my partner, it’s with me, but there’s gotta be some issue about it.

I was both shocked and not shocked that he came like hell today. He always claimed that he couldn’t cum as well if he were too excited and built up and that he’s gotta do it regularly to cum more, but I think it’s just one of his many excuses. The reasons I’m not shocked are cuz it’s not prime time and cuz I told him I preferred it nowadays when he doesn’t cum cuz it’s less messy. He’s an opposite doer, so if I tell him I prefer he didn’t cum, he’ll cum. Don’t get me wrong - this doesn’t mean he’s gonna cum more than the once every two weeks to two months that he usually does. It’s just that last night when I told him this, he responded by saying that we can’t always get what we want. So, he knew he was gonna cum today. He made up his mind to and planned to last night, but it was fine. It didn’t make nearly the mess I thought it would and I didn’t have to change the sheets. If I did, though, it wouldn’t kill me, either.

Later…

Andy told me something he said I wouldn’t believe. Well, I do believe it, cuz it’s become rather obvious even to me, that he’s just cursed in the workplace. It’s too bad he’s afraid of change, cuz it may be time for him to try some other line of work, not that he can’t/won’t encounter trouble elsewhere. Anyway, once again, he’s fighting with coworkers and this other waitress ran to the manager claiming he sexually harassed her. Well, I know Andy wouldn’t hit on a guy he’s not interested in and he certainly wouldn’t hit on a woman, so that tells me something. That tells me that this girl’s using his gayhood as a weapon/excuse to claim he’s a pervert so he can be fired. The manager threatened to fire him if there were any more problems, but so far he’s still there.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1998
If what Lisa told me is true, I really want to shake my sister and say, hey! Do something to protect your kids! Bill’s been coming around hitting Lisa with Tammy right there to see it and she’s not doing shit about it. Lisa said something about her being afraid to lose the kids, but I would think that Tammy wouldn’t lose them for reporting an abusive husband. As long as she herself isn’t doing anything wrong, why should she lose them? If he’s doing violence, then he’s doing criminal behavior and he should be arrested. He shouldn’t be allowed to see them.

My question is, why isn’t Tammy doing anything about this? If she knew he was hitting the kids, why wasn’t she contacting the authorities? Or beating the snot out of him? And why is she letting him near them?

Well, if Tammy, Lisa, or the system won’t take proper measures to get this guy out of their lives, maybe God will have his lymphoma kick in and kill him, but I doubt that. God loves a guy like this. He’ll do all he can to protect him and ensure he lives a full enough life.

The whole thing just burns me up, though! I could kill this guy! And how could my sister be so stupid and not do anything about this?

Well, hopefully I’ll catch Tammy soon enough, cuz she said she’d fill me in on what’s going on, and then I’ll see if I can casually bring up Bill without sounding obvious and see what she says is the case. I believe Lisa, though. I can tell by her tone of voice, her choice of words, etc., that she’s sincere about what’s been going on and most kids wouldn’t lie about that, either.

No freeloader trouble yet, but it’s early. These things don’t peak till afternoon. I had a dream they got the dog back that they had before, but hopefully it’ll stay just a dream. If they don’t get a dog of some kind within a few weeks to a month, then I’d stick with my original guess of their getting a dog around late June to early July. They hate it when it’s not really hot, so they’d prefer to go out to feed it in the heat than they would in the colder weather. I know this could very well mean asking for more noise as a replacement, but I just wish they’d move the fuck on out of here!

Tom’s gone out to get the equipment to make journals. He’s gone to get the paper puncher, the wires, and maybe pressed paper, too (the material that covers are made of). I don’t know yet if we’ll get a laminating machine.

He’ll be back in about 20 minutes, then we’ll be going to see what guinea pigs are around.

He installed a motion sensor light in the garage, so now he doesn’t have to walk through a dark garage to open the garage door, then walk through the dark to get to his car. It’ll be nice for me, too, for when we go out at night. In the past, he’d put the high beams on so I could see, but they weren’t as helpful as these lights will be.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1998
Well, I don’t thank God it’s Friday, contrary to what the bulk of the population would think, but I’ve never part of the bulk of the population for the most part, anyway. I’m glad that Tom will be off, but that’s about it, cuz I’d think that two quiet weekends in a row would be just a dream. Well, we’ll just have to wait and see what they do. The longer they don’t know I haven’t been served, the longer it’ll be before they start up, but it’s not gonna be long, anyhow. If I remember correctly, it wasn’t more than two weeks between the time the butch and Stacey had me served, till we met in court.

Anyway, I feel a million times better. Yesterday I really felt like shit, all the way up till a few hours ago. My throat hurt like hell and my nose was all stuffed up. I slept on and off from noon yesterday till 3:00 this morning.

I hope I can still make it to the dentist’s appointment.

Later…

Tom just called from work to say hi, since their machines got all fouled up and he has to wait.

Today he’s bringing Ma to get these little shots in her face that help with scar tissue, then he’ll be in at noon, and he says the weekend’s clear. He’s gonna go to the track on Saturday, but that’s it.

Tweety’s singing away to the washer. I’m washing out sheets, blankets, and a few odds and ends. Just like I could do things to make Shadow meow and my pigs squeak, I can make Tweety sing, by crinkling plastic or with any steady crackling or water sounds. It’s pretty neat, but I wish God would kill these cats!

Later…

I printed out about 47 pages of this journal and it took forfuckingever! I didn’t realize it’d take that long.

I called to say hi to Tammy. She was just headed out the door but said to call her later and she’ll fill me in. At least she still sounds happy. I’ve never heard her sound so happy and positive. It’s about goddamn time, as I said before! It’s too bad that Tammy has to always be associated with Bill cuz of the kids. That must be hell, having to see someone you can’t stand like that. I’m assuming he’ll have visitation rights, even though he shouldn’t be allowed near the kids at all since the courts are so gung-ho on biology.

A few hours ago, the things I’ve been doing caught up to me. Guess I exerted myself too much doing dishes, laundry, etc. I can really tell I’m still sick when I talk. My voice is weak, as amazing as that sounds coming from someone with such a loud, strong voice, and I’m still heavy-headed. It feels stuffy and I can still barely taste or smell. This is the first cold I’ve had in years, though, so I’ll bet I won’t have another one till after the turn of the century. Especially if we don’t have the kid I know we’re not meant to have (kids are always sick).

I was discussing different philosophies and beliefs with Andy, and believe it or not, he does have a point about something. When I reminded him that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, he pointed out how God gives kids to those who can’t handle them all the time. This is true. God does do this, but as I said before, I believe God has different standards for different people. What one can do/have, may not be what someone else can do/have. I’ve been in situations I couldn’t handle before and most of the parents I’ve known couldn’t handle parenthood, but there’s still a reason for everything. I just don’t know if God’s reasons for sterilizing me are good, bad, or both, but what’s been done has been done. He sterilized me before I was even born. There’s nothing I can do about that 32 years later.

Andy left a message earlier and again, he’s as selfish as he is a very dear friend. I had left him a quick message yesterday to say hi and I also mentioned I had a cold, but in his message to me today, he didn’t even mention it. Never asked how I was or anything. Instead, I was Brenda for a few minutes. He wanted to vent his troubles with Laura. All 3 of them sleep in the bedroom. Laura and Gary have bunk beds. Meanwhile, Laura set her alarm for 6 AM and Andy wasn’t too happy about that, I guess since he doesn’t have to get up till around noon or later.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1998
Jesus, I am unbelievably fat! Almost none of my clothes fit. Even listening to music is hard. There used to be space in between my belly and thighs, but now, my stomach is jammed against my thighs when I’m hunched over rocking. My problem is mostly in my stomach and thighs. Man, are they huge! I think I have a 34” waist and that’s 10” bigger than it’s supposed to be.

See? I really can find good in not having a kid, cuz if I had had a kid who read these journals after I died - oh God! It’d think it had a crazy mom for sure! Sometimes that’s true, though, or I at least feel that way. Another good thing about not having one is when you have a cold, it’s a blessing not to have to take care of someone when you can barely take care of yourself. I didn’t even think I’d have the strength to write at all.

I had a sore throat and body aches yesterday and today I’ve still got the body aches, but my head feels like it’s being pressurized all around. I’m not congested in the lungs/nose yet, but I just have that yucky, dizzy, weak, breathless feeling and I have zero energy. I don’t think I can work out today. My backache alone is tough. Tom’s been a great masseuse and nurse, though.

Although you’re supposed to gain a couple of pounds when you first start working out, I was right about my weight being scheduled for another jump. I know its timing and how my body loses/gains weight and now I’m 127. Of course, I look more like 140 with this lack of height and a disproportionate shape. Even my face, which was always considered striking (except for the crooked teeth, big teeth in front, and the small hole of a mouth), looks fat, puffy, and haggard. I’m really starting to age suddenly. My chin now runs right into my neck. It’s no longer tucked under my neck but slants down right into it. I don’t have much in the way of wrinkles yet, although there are facial folds forming from the sides of my nose down to the sides of my little round mouth. It’s hard to believe I was once thin and had a pretty face. Thank God I’ll always have my thick long hair and my big eyes and long eyelashes. They make up for what I lack. Most people would find the curly hair a blessing, too, but you know I don’t. It’s too much of a bitch to keep knots out of.

Every time I don’t feel too bad and get up and do things, I’m reminded of just how sick I really am, even if this is a really easy cold since I don’t smoke. I began to sex the baby mice but got weak and tired and they began to all look the same, so I’ll wait till this weekend. Tom and I agreed to do that and trim my bangs with the new hair trimmer this weekend, but you know how it is with us - something will come up so we can’t do it then. Someone will need his help. God, leave my husband to me on the weekends!

So, this weekend we’ll hopefully segregate the babies (the way you tell the sexes is by the distance between their butt holes and their private parts).

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1998
I may not do as much updating as I’d like to, cuz I’ve got a cold. Just when I thought I’d escape catching Tom’s cold (and I haven’t caught his last 4-5), I catch it.

Anyway, there’s still been no freeloader shit yet. No calls, no funny mail, nothing done to the house, no music, nothing yet. Although at around midnight, I sure heard something really damn weird but it couldn’t have been next door. It was close by, but when I say “close by” that could mean 4 houses away since they’re so close. Anyway, I heard a dog howling. Not barking, but doing a soft, low howling sound. If all dogs did that, rather than barked, I wouldn’t complain. I think I may have heard this howling before, too, a few times, but again, I have no idea where it’s at. I’d doubt it’d be next door, though, cuz they’d get something louder, with a loud bark, and something that’d bark a lot. I’ve only heard this thing a few times, but meanwhile, they deliberately had the dog they had go hungry a lot and deprived of attention, so it’d bark more. They probably got to the point where they couldn’t stand it themselves. Like I said, though, it couldn’t have been just a few feet away. I did hear the little kid balling her head off at 7:30 yesterday morning, but that’s it so far.

Tom says he thinks they know I haven’t been served, but my guess is that they still don’t know. It’s been too quiet for them to know. If they knew, they’d either try to get me served again, or they’d be a problem with noise. Primarily with music, since they don’t have a dog right now.

I’m working on my CD cover project and just not up to writing now, so I’ll go continue on with that and return to write more later.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1998
I have quite an update to do. First off, Tom said the computer fixed itself and I was right with my initial diagnosis of a bad ink cartridge. He said he tested its colors again right before he was about to call an 800 number to exchange it, and it was fine. Well, I hope it stays that way. Meanwhile, I did 4 more Norah pictures and am resuming the CD cover project.

Now here’s something that may or may not shock you. That depends on how closely you view the statistics on shit like this, but last night I had one cigarette. It was also a very big mistake too, and I learned a big lesson - if you quit smoking, don’t go back to it, cuz you’ll be sicker than a dog. I had Tom get a pack cuz I was sick of missing them. It felt and tasted just like it did when I first started. I expected a bit of a head rush, but not for my heart to feel like it was gonna jump right out of my chest and not to feel nauseous, but that’s just how I felt for a while. And the place smelled so bad, too! No wonder I was thin, except for when I was on funny pills, what with the way my heart raced. And what a foul taste I had in my mouth for a while, too. How did I do that for 18 years? Gross! And why I didn’t feel queasy when I first started beats me. How did I deal with the rapid heartbeat and the smell? So, although what I did was a very bad idea, it may be the best stupid thing I did, so to speak, cuz it taught me just how sick I’d be. So, it’ll make missing them a lot easier to cope with.

Tom’s still sick, but he’s functioning. He hasn’t had to call out of work yet, although he considered it a few times.

We lay down naked together and talked, but we didn’t do anything. He said he owed me big time, though.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1998
Yup, there’s a freeloader next door. One with a car, anyway. If I heard right, I heard its car doors just after 10:00.

I’m doing sheets right now and soon I’ll do some exercising. I don’t really have anything else I’ve got to do. I sang, and I’ll also crimp my hair, too.

Why is God so fucking hung up on the idea of me being in old places and with things that are broken?! This fucking leaky roof! I know Tom’s full of it when he says he’s gonna put a coat of sealer on it in a few days and have it repaired in a few months.

Anyway, I crimped my hair and am now waiting for the fryer to heat up enough for my chicken wings. Then, I will work out and do proofreading for the night. Anything to keep my mind off of things that hurt. It’s not always easy to block out the pain and punishment that God has inflicted upon me. Every day, I get up and I tell myself the same thing - I do not deserve a child and I cannot handle it. I need to believe this to make it easier to go on living and to go on living with God’s decision. I need to make his decision right and I need to make it fair. The only way I can deal with it and be more OK with it is to tell myself that every day, not that it isn’t true no matter what, cuz it is. I’m not up weird hours and on weird schedules for the fun of it. This is the way I am and I can’t help it, whether I’m one in a million or not. And if I can’t get on schedule for me I certainly couldn’t do it for a child. You have to be able to help yourself and do right for your own self before you can help and do right for others. But nonetheless, telling myself I don’t deserve it and can’t handle it, is the only way I can justify God’s actions. God isn’t supposed to hurt people like this and he’s supposed to be stronger than the devil, so for him to do this to me, he’s got to have a damn good reason.

Later…

I miss my cigarettes. Yes, I still miss them every day. I may not wheeze or need inhalers regularly anymore, and it may save money, but nothing has changed. It was a simple case of my being naïve, to think it’d change anything that much. Do I really want to live missing my cigarettes, on top of missing a child? I just don’t know.

The babies are really becoming “mice” so to speak. The oldest ones are really moving around now and eating and drinking. It’s so cute how they get all bouncy and playful.

I had a nice talk with Andy. I wanted to call him when I did an hour or so ago, cuz I knew I wouldn’t catch him later what with how my schedule is now.

I did the dishes, and other little odds and ends around the house, but I haven’t done much proofreading yet, so I think I’ll get back to that. I have a whole goddamn 34 more to go. They never end!

I’ve got about 600 more pages to proofread between all the journal groups I have left to go through. Well, I guess it’s moving along somewhat, cuz I remember when I had just over 1000 pages to proofread.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1998
I may do some more working out later. Again, I know I can’t lose weight as long as God says I can’t. It’s just that it not only makes me feel better, but I feel more and more the need to rebel against God. In the past, for example, his refusal to allow me a child only made me want to fight him and get around him more. Now, I’m all the more determined to show that I can live just fine with his decision. And besides, he’s not the only one who thinks I can’t handle a child and am not deserving of one. I know I couldn’t handle it. I know I have so many other blessings, too, that I don’t deserve a child. I have to earn my way through life and I haven’t earned a child. Nothing I’ve done says I deserve it, but I do deserve other things that I’ve got and that I’ve worked hard for. I may not have the gift of a child, but I’ve got the gift of music. And that’s something I deserve and can handle, as long as it’s just the hobby it’s always been.

So go on God, control me all you want, but I am not gonna let a damn thing you do get to me and dominate my life and emotions!

So, it’s like I said - if I don’t mention a child, Tom won’t. He’ll forget all about it if I do.

Tom tells me I should try the hair removal thing again cuz they’re selling it everywhere. Yeah, gimmicks are sold everywhere all the time. Maybe it does work for most others and maybe it’s me. Maybe God just doesn’t want me to remove any of my hair permanently.

Later…

Got some letters typed up. Meanwhile, I haven’t heard any car doors in the 12 or so hours that I’ve been up, so if the freeloader’s car is there, I don’t know it.

I just ran into Marla online, sent her an IM, but got no response. Guess she’s busy doing something.

It’s now one of my favorite times - late Sunday night. Well, it’s not late, but by this time, I can be pretty darn sure that there’ll be no shit next door. According to Tom, there were no problems from them, so unless he’s not around to stir up the music/company, they don’t know yet that I haven’t been served. A couple of calls where all they say is how whites are no better than them isn’t gonna influence their case in court, the more I think about it. So that’s why there haven’t been any problems with music, mail, or vandalism.

Tom did say that he got a pizza he didn’t order. I said it was next door, but he said he didn’t think so cuz there was a phone number on the order that wasn’t ours. He thinks it’s just a misunderstanding about the address. Yeah, could be, but I doubt it.

God, these cats really know how to push my buttons. If they’re not banging on the door, they’re banging on the wall between the back room and patio.

I had my daily allergy fit, took my daily allergy pill, and so far, it looks like God’s gonna spare me again from catching one of Tom’s many colds. I knew he would. I’ve got allergies and other shit to deal with every day.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1998
I didn’t get up till around 3 PM, but according to Tom, there have been no problems with the freeloaders yet. He said all he heard was someone passing by bouncing a ball and someone dumping garbage. Yeah, the freeloaders have their recycle bin right against the block wall just a few feet away from the bedroom. It used to be on the other side of their carport up against their house, but now it has to be against our house. Close enough, anyway.

For a second there, I thought I heard a dog while I was putting up that piano flag with its colorful notes in the music room, but I guess I didn’t. It wasn’t loud enough and it was just that one time. By now, if there were a dog there, I’d have heard it a billion times. I also wouldn’t be surprised if they got a dog sooner than the summer, and this next dog I won’t suspect is for me, I’ll know it’s for me.

Also, as figured, the calls stopped as soon as I put the anonymous call reject in use.

And another thing I figured is that the freeloader’s back. I was right when I said I heard a car door. It was there yesterday and the day before that we know of and when it’ll leave again, I don’t know.

So, what else is going on that’s part of our fate that God would never change - Tom does have yet another fucking cold. He went just over half a year without one, though, so he’s improving, and I should’ve known. I should’ve known that with the way God has to make sure our brand-new vacuums and microwaves and stuff like that have to break, I should’ve known that he’d trash the printer or the scanner. He chose to go after the printer and again, I’m sure a part of it is my payback for next door’s bottle. It won’t print reds very well and this is why I’ve been having color problems with text and pictures. It wasn’t a faulty cartridge after all, even if I wish that was the case, but I should’ve known. Boy, we really set the record for stuff that breaks. We’d be setting a record even if the stuff was older, so it’s all the more of a pisser when brand-new shit breaks for no apparent reason. That printer was fine. Then it just suddenly stopped printing correctly. This tells me all the more, that it had to be a God and if not, a devil of some kind. So much new shit doesn’t break left and right without a reason and since we can’t find no logical reason for it, that leaves something that’s not quite of an earthly source, although Tom’s not as quick to believe that kind of thing. I don’t think he wants to cuz it’s human nature to try to avoid thinking about things that are scary/negative. I don’t like to think that something out of this world could control us or our lives and stuff so much, but it’s true. There’s no denying it. That’d be pointless.

Tom picked up a couple of 40-min. phone cards for Andy. I’ll mail them along with his card for his birthday.

He also picked me up a pair of purple Velcro leg weights that you strap around your ankles. These are so much more stable than that thing I got by Denise Austin. The stretchable cord for the arms is fine by her and so is her tummy/back supporter, but the thing you wrap around the thighs sucks. They just slide right down.

Later…

I just got done working out and am doing laundry. I’m also cooking chicken wings and yes, I may as well give the cats the parts I don’t like, rather than throw them out and have them go to waste.

All’s still quiet next door and Andy couldn’t remember for sure, but he thinks he had to keep on calling in regard to finding out if Scott had been served or not. So, I don’t know if they know I haven’t been served yet. That would be pretty funny if they got all the way up to the court date without knowing, then went to court expecting me to be there, only to then end up being told their time and money went to waste cuz I was never notified. Upon receiving the calls I got, I thought they knew then that I hadn’t been served and knew it was useless to try again, cuz that wouldn’t look very good in court - harassing someone you intend to take to court for harassing you. But due to the weekend being so quiet (so far), they may not know yet. It’s when they do know and when they decide to forget about court that’ll be when they’ll really act up.

I was browsing through all the different projects that graphics program can do and discovered I can make CD and tape labels. You can make all kinds of labels for various things, but I made one tape label just for the hell of it (for an audiotape) and made a few CD labels, too. Unfortunately, I stuck all kinds of stickers on the CD cases that I can’t get off, so I have to tape the covers I make onto the outsides of the cases. Also, thanks to the fucked up printer, I have to wait a while before I can print more labels and Norah pictures if I want them to look better.

Later…

Sandy called earlier to say hi and to thank me for the cards I sent her and Jen, and I spoke to Larry and Jen, too. I feel so bad cuz I forgot to call and wish Sandy and Jen a happy birthday. I got a typical teasing response out of Larry for it, too. He goes, “It’s not my birthday. So I don’t give a fuck.”

Larry had some computer questions for Tom, so they talked for a while, then after, I teased both Larry and Sandy about their weather, I talked to Jen for a while. It’s amazing how mature and articulate she sounds. I know I’m talking to a child when I talk to her, but I don’t feel like I’m talking to a child when we talk. Anyway, Jen’s expressed interest in the mice we have, so maybe she’ll get some of her own. She asked me some questions about them. We both agree that hamsters can be cute, but all they do is sleep. Mice are cute to watch, but GPs are something you can cuddle and that fit in your hand and on your shoulder really well. Bunny’s too big.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1998
Those anonymous calls were freeloader-related as I suspected. As I said, there were two calls over the weekend where they left a couple of quick messages. I could hear them talking to each other (a guy and a girl) but couldn’t make out what was being said. The girl was Hispanic and if the guy wasn’t too, he was black. I got up at 5 PM and an hour earlier there was a message where this female says, “I’ll be calling you back.” Then at 8:00, the freeloader leaves a message and she says, “Tom’s white trash for saying he’s a KKK member and a racist and that we’re no better than them,” then she said something about God, then hung up (yeah, it always comes down to God for them).

Tom never did or would say this, of course, as he has not one bigoted bone in his body and is certainly not affiliated with the KKK.

I set the Caller ID up to reject anonymous calls, so if the freeloader wants to call, she’s gonna have to leave her number. It was a definite black voice, but it wasn’t the bitch herself. Of course she’d get someone else to do her dirty work for her, as far as calls go.

I didn’t tell Tom about these calls cuz first of all, I forgot to tell him about the ones that came over the weekend and secondly, why add to his worries if I can spare him? Until and if there’s a need for him to know about it, I won’t tell him for now.

Do they have some detective friend who got my prints off the letter? Did they have a hidden camera that caught me throwing the bottle? I don’t think so, so what makes them so sure it’s me without any proof? The cops don’t do shit about threatening letters. They wouldn’t get prints, cuz you know how cops are. They wait till someone does something to physically hurt someone before they really take action. What is it that makes them so sure it’s me? Or Tom? Any idiot could get our names/number, but I still wonder how they’re so sure it’s us? And you know what? They’re gonna get away with it. All the music, the calls, any harassment or shit they dish out to us, they’re gonna get away with. Only I have to pay. God hasn’t seen that I pay for the letter/bottle yet, but he will. If it isn’t by going to court, it’ll be by something else.

I hate being so trapped by these people, but that’s exactly what I am! If I send mail or do something to their property, I have to pay in court or by them harassing me all the more at some point. If I beat them up, I get arrested or maybe shot by one of their psycho friends. There’s no winning here or getting them off my ass. I have no choice but to live with whatever they do, but me? I can’t do shit, cuz if I do, I have to pay and get hell for it. Fuck these people! Fuck these mother-fucking people! I wish they’d drop dead! It’s obvious now that these fucking city bums are gonna do everything they can to hang onto that house for as long as they can, so we will be stuck with them till we move. When we get closer to September, we’ll see what happens then, but I see myself stuck with them for a long time, unfortunately. He hasn’t been around for nearly a week (I wish I could say they had that final fight and will never be together again, but he’ll be back) and that’s what the music was about last Saturday. He always lets me know there’s a change to come. He was telling me he was leaving. But like I said, he’ll be back. And when he returns, I can only imagine just how bad the music situation will be. It’s the calm before the storm that we’re in right now, but in time, there’ll be plenty of music and barking when the new dog gets here. The only reason there’s not as much activity going on over there lately is that it’s winter.

Later…

Here we are at that dreaded weekend! I’m sure he’ll return this weekend too, and will let me know it. Then next weekend will be even worse, cuz that’s a 3-day weekend, although a lot of people will still have to work on Monday.

Since I set up an anonymous call reject, the bitch’s friends that have been calling will go do something else, I’m sure, cuz I really doubt they’ll have the guts to expose their number. I’ll probably get my share of hate mail next, but that ought to be interesting. In fact, I hope I do get something in the mail, cuz that’s tangible evidence I could use if we do go to court, although it’s pretty much non-admissible in court. Still, it’d be interesting to have, even if it’s not too helpful.

Speaking of pain in the asses that I gotta deal with - these cats have taken advantage of my hospitality enough, and once they run out of food, that’s it. They’re on their own to fend for themselves. They’re an extra cost that we didn’t ask for, since they’re just strays, and they bang and climb on the screen door to get attention and it’s really a distraction.

For now, I’m done playing the video caption game where I create new photos for my screensaver program. It’s time-consuming, too, to do just a few of them. Anyway, I got about 8 new ones of Gloria I made, and 4 or so more Norah ones. I printed some out, too.

Got the package from my parents to wake up to and this one really went over as a big hit with me.

Fuck! I think the freeloader’s back already. Yeah, leave it to him to return on a Friday night, so I can listen to him blast in and out 4-6 times on both Saturday and Sunday. God, get rid of this mother-fucker!

Anyway, they sent a wooden flowerpot arrangement and a wooden mini birdhouse with bees and flowers on it. Those, I have in the kitchen.

They sent a nice pair of beige ankle-high boots with silver studs around the ankles, a really nice night light with a piano and musical notes, and a flag too gorgeous to go outside. It’s also of a piano and musical notes and it’ll get hung inside somewhere.

They sent their latest flag catalog which seems to get thicker and thicker each time and is filled with plenty of new drawing ideas. I really loved some of the wind sockets they have now. Also, they have a really nice new cactus/desert scene and sculpted flags. Out of the sculpted ones, I really liked the one of the cats that hangs from the flagpole.

And lastly, they sent two really cute little felt and feather mice. One’s gray and one’s white, but both have pink ears and multi-colored feathers for tails. I have them on top of the monitor.

So it was really nice of them to send stuff I like and a theme of mice and music sure is me!

Speaking of mice, the oldest babes are really moving around now and just starting to open their eyes and eat solid foods.

I got a stamp catalog that I ordered from the post office, but it’s not very entertaining. Nothing too exciting in it.

God’s still doing his thing and right on time too, cuz Tom has a cold. I thought my not smoking was supposed to cure him of all his colds and sexual problems. I guess not (we screwed yesterday and it was nice, but he’s not the only one who didn’t cum). Right at mid-cycle, too, as if something up there wants to pretend there’s this big pregnancy to dodge. Well, this will be the easiest cold for me to deal with cuz I’m not so worried about losing out on sex and a child. It’s OK now. We have to take care of his Mary, Ma, her house, my teeth, and our moving plans. That’s enough and as Tom says - I’ve got a full plate.

Evie responded to the email I sent offering me a ride to Parker’s birthday party. I told her I’d be tied up too, and she said that David has to work (as well as Tom), and it’ll just be all women. Well, I can’t relate to these women. I have nothing in common with them and I don’t want to go there just to feel like an outcast and have nothing to say while they talk about their kids. All I mainly know is music, art and rodents. Not motherhood/children.

Later…

I’ve been hearing a shitload of car stereos off in the distance. Hey, it’s Friday night. They’re cruising the city everywhere.

Tom’s still asleep. He went to bed shortly after I got up. I got up at around 2 PM.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1998
Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d write. The more I think about Andy, the more irked I get. I appreciate the coffee coupons he took the time to clip and bring over to me, but he has become so fucking selfish (in a different kind of way than he was in Springfield)! I just never thought he’d become such a pest! He comes over here on a weekend which he knows I don’t prefer (although I should’ve said something) and he’s got to eat everything he sees, as usual. He sees me eating a carrot, so he’s gotta have it. He sits down next to all my gum, he’s gotta have some, too (a whole pack). He’s gotta have some popcorn and some coffee and then he asked if I’d give him the digital scale since we got a dial one. Yeah sure, I said. Then he said he should’ve taken my offer when I offered him extra mugs since he’s got two roommates now. So I gave him 4 old mugs I’ll never use again.

Oh well. I guess Andy will be Andy while I’ll be me. I still love and care about him as much as I may bitch about him. He is my best friend. He’s also so much like family since we grew up knowing each other.

So much for printing out purple text. All I can get right now is black and blue. I think this color cartridge is fucked up. It fucking figures, huh?

Right now I’m in a questionable mood. I’m not in a bad mood and I’m not in a good mood. I have things I look forward to living for and experiencing, then I have things I’m not the least bit anxious to live with. As I said, never having a baby gets easier to deal with over time, and I know God has his reasons for feeling I’m both incompetent and not deserving of a child and perhaps he’s right. That still doesn’t mean that every now and then for the rest of my life, I won’t wonder what it would’ve been like to carry and have that child. I still wonder, though, will we ever seek a doctor’s help for this situation? I can’t see it. And how many have this double whammy, too, with problems with both sex and sterility? Isn’t it usually one or the other if you’re one of those unfortunate ones to have a problem in the first place?

It’s still pretty windy out there and we had a bit of rain, but it’s a nothing storm. I wouldn’t even classify it as a storm, but just a little bit of wind and rain.

I’m also wondering about the bitch next door too, and what she’s gonna do next. Will she try again to take legal action against me? Or will she have her boytoy harass me with his music? Or maybe have Loverboy and the kid vandalize us? Well, if they do that, and I catch them, they’re dead meat.

I did a baby count last night and if I remember correctly, there are 34 babies. Counting the adults, we’ve got 42 mice altogether. That’s a lot!

Well, I’d stay and write more little tidbits of stuff, but my eyes are now beginning to close on me. I should wake up to a package from my parents tomorrow. Packages always come before I’m fully awake, anyway! I hope I don’t wake up to any court people knocking, that’s for sure.

Later…

Just got up and had my daily allergy fit. God, I’m so sick of this shit! I had hoped that the rain would clean the air and it did somewhat, but I disagree with Tom. I know the pollution has had a big play on my allergies, but I think it’s more the mice. Sorry, God, I’m not giving them up. You can make me pay for them, but I’m not giving them up. Not the ones I don’t want to give up, anyway. At least this is how I feel now, but if I decide further down the road to give in to God and let him win and control me out of having a lot of mice, I’ll just keep Ziggy, Cocoa, Tanner and Patch.

Still no freeloader next door, and it looks like I was right with my 3 shot guess. I don’t think anyone tried to serve me yesterday. I think the last shot was on Monday. That bitch is gonna take the news hard, I’m sure. Like I said, though, I think she’ll try again. Dragging me into court would be worth her money and she can’t say for sure who sent that letter and who threw that bottle, so who better to blame than me? I wonder how she can afford, it though, but I guess she could on subsidized housing. I’m sure I could’ve come up with that fee when I was in Carabetta. If she can’t raise the dough herself, she’ll use him or someone else for the money.

I’m having my coffee now, then it’s off to brush my teeth and take a shower.

Later…

I knew that the freeloader’s absence was to be short-lived. It’s back. I just heard a car door, but at least it was just one not-so-loud car door and not a million slams with music included. That’s just so far, though, cuz I know they’ll be acting up any time now. I don’t know if they know yet that I haven’t been served, but they’re gonna be pretty pissed when they found out I haven’t been. This weekend, I’m sure, will be filled with plenty of reminders that I have to live with them practically attached to us.

Still haven’t showered yet, so I’m gonna go get that over with.

Later…

No mail regarding the freeloaders. Anyway, I showered and all that and will straighten my hair as soon as it dries. I changed the bird’s cage, and he’s already trashed his food again. Why does a bird have to throw their food around their cage when they go to eat? The pigeons don’t do that. Maybe it’s cuz this bird doesn’t like me (he senses I’m not a big fan of birds). Well, the cats are just as messy when they eat as they’d be if they ate indoors. Instead of taking a bite of food from their bowl and eating it, they have to take that bite, drop it on the ground, then eat it from there. It used to piss me off how Shadow would needlessly dirty up the floor when he’d eat.

I got up earlier than UPS typically delivers and am now wide awake, so that means I most definitely won’t get my package today. I’m sure I will tomorrow, though, when I sleep later. That way, it can come before I’ve had a chance to get up and get woken up. I always end up opening it before I’m fully awake, though, cuz the suspense always kills me. It’s hard to tell myself I’ll get woken up first, while I sit and stare at a package and wonder what’s in it.

Later…

My weight’s been hanging in the mid-120s for a while now, so I expect it to go up any second now.

I’m psyched at the idea of making my own journals. Tom said he’s found everything I need to do that with, except for where they sell the wires to bind the papers with. He’ll find that out, though, cuz the journal companies themselves did. They have to have a supplier somewhere. Anyway, as psyched as I am about it, what am I gonna do with all that extra time (writing in the draft copies was time-consuming and God isn’t gonna give me a kid to fill my time with)? I guess I’ll take Tom’s advice and do more than just text when we get a new word processor. I can do illustrations, clipart, photos, etc. I can also make up that writing time by doubling or tripling my typing time. I have a gigantic hard drive in the computer I use, anyway, and it’s not even compressed.

Boy, does my hair feel much healthier straightened! It’s when it’s left curly that it feels so straw-like.

It’s still windy and cool out there and I wonder if we’ll get more rain. I’d think so from the way it’s looking out there.

I think I’ll go web cruising now.

Later…

I may do some singing in a little while and when I do, hopefully I won’t sound like I still smoke. It’s a real bummer that I have to have other problems now that I don’t smoke. I was not only sure that quitting would clear my nose, which it didn’t, I was sure my skin would no longer be leathery dry and that the ridges in my nails would smooth out, but I was wrong.

I think I’ll go do the dishes before they pile up again, and have some popcorn, too.

Later…

Now it’s really raining out there. Saw a bit of lightning and heard a bit of thunder, too. Of course our back room is leaking in the corner. There were 4 spots that would leak and Tom was only able to fix 3 of them. He’s gonna put some more sealer on the roof, but meanwhile, we’ll probably just hire someone to repair this goddamn roof.

I just left Andy a message and asked him to tell me how the phone card deal works and where to get them. That’s what he wants for his birthday, so he can go call friends and family out of state and talk those people’s ears off. I guess the price depends on how many minutes’ worth you buy. He’d take a year’s worth if he could, but I asked him to tell me what he’d reasonably prefer and where the best place to buy the cards would be.

I hope it doesn’t rain too much longer, cuz the leak is dripping fast.

Later…

God, I’m soooo pissed! I’m so fucking sick of this leaky roof deal! I’m sick and tired of having to play bucket and towels! Tom said he’s sorry, he forgot. Well, of course he forgot. If I were too busy fixing other people’s houses, I’d tend to forget what needed to be fixed in my own house, too. Like I said, his family’s houses and medical conditions come first.

Later…

Tom’s taking a shower now and then we’re going to screw for the first time in nearly two weeks. Again, I’m not in the mood, not that I won’t at least spread my legs for him. I wonder why my appetite’s dwindled like it has. Also, I question just how much I really want to trade in my freedom for a baby and I’m not sure it’s as much as it used to be, but I can’t complain. I thank God it’s not as big a deal to me as it once was and as it could be. Anyway, if I don’t mention the sterility, the doctors, etc., he won’t.

David and Evie sent an invitation to Parker’s first birthday party. Boring! Besides, Tom has to work that night. So I emailed Evie (both of their email addresses were on their return address label) and told her we couldn’t make it and that I set things up so she can email me directly. I added her to my list.

Tom confirmed that I guessed right - this color cartridge is defective. Do you know how rare that is? It figures, too, that I’d be the one to get a fucked up cartridge, but hey, rare is me. Tom will pick me up a new one and a black one, too. He’s also gonna look at Velcro leg weights that Sears has and their phone cards. We can maybe get Andy two 40-minute cards for $10 each. Anyway, the weights that I have are primarily wrist weights, but they have these really comfortable Velcro leg weights that I want. I began working out again figuring that if I didn’t lose weight or inches, and I’m sure I won’t, it’ll at least make me feel better. Most of my work and hobbies are done sitting down. This way, I can be more active.

We know of two places in Phoenix that sell Play City stuff, the brand of pet stuff we use. We’re gonna see if Play City has a website so we can find out if they have other distributors around here. I want to pick up a couple of purple Snap-On wheels. They don’t work as great, but I think the mice will like them.

I had said twice but didn’t, that I’d quit getting them wine coolers. No, I’m not addicted. It’s just like with coffee - I could give up coffee forever, but wouldn’t want to. I still do intend to return to never drinking, but rather than do it abruptly, I’ll do it little by little.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1998
I’m lying low right now, cuz the civil court server may be here any time now. He may try well after 5:00, figuring I don’t get home till then. Yesterday Tom said he put a card on the door saying to call him in order to avoid any inconvenience later. Oh, I’m really scared of being inconvenienced! Tom just left the card there, though, to make it look like no one’s gotten it. We don’t use the front door, anyway.

That really was packing sounds I heard after all. He hasn’t been there since Saturday, so all’s been peaceful. No music, no door slamming. He’ll be back anytime, though, and I know they’ll torment me with music and other things at some point, too.

A part of me wondered if the dog disappearing could be cuz of the city letter. Maybe they came out in person about it and she told them he just visits. Meanwhile, they saw the dog and told her to lose it. And now, could he be hiding out while she’s going through her legal troubles? I doubt that one, though, cuz this would be between us in court. The city would have no cause to come out to the house for this. Tom said that as far as the dog, the people who tore up their yard and replaced their main line could’ve seen droppings, or someone who came over to check or repair something else could’ve. That makes more sense if she didn’t plan to have the dog just for a little while, cuz if she felt I caused him to lose that dog, she’d make up something to drag me into court for. I told you she’s been waiting for the chance to jump out at me. There’s no proof whatsoever that I was behind this bottle thing, yet she’s blaming me anyhow.

Well, Tom’s been finding out some good news and maybe, just maybe, we can move in less than two years. The price of an acre isn’t nearly as costly as we thought it’d be. At $400 an acre, we can use our stock money to get the land ASAP. Then we could either get a mobile home till we build the house we want. Or we can get a home assembly kit that enables you to put together a house in just a couple of days till we build the house we want.

Tom got a certificate today for processing 23 million checks! That’s a lot. He also got a gym bag and a denim cap.

Later…

I just got done listening to music for a half-hour or so, so if anyone came to the door, I don’t know about it.

Boy, is that barometer way down. I’ve never seen it so low. It’s cloudy and windy now, but are we in for that big of a storm? I just hope that whatever it does helps the pollution. It’s been awful! Worst I’ve ever dealt with during winter out here. My allergies have been miserable. Last night my nose was so stopped up and sneezy that I thought I had a cold. Singing was like old times. It’s like God just wants me to suffer one way or the other. If I don’t use cigarettes to aggravate my lungs, he sticks me with more allergy problems than I’ve ever had out here. Tom says he thinks it’s 80% pollution and 20% mice. Well, if it is the mice, I’m not gonna give in to him and get rid of them. See what I mean, though? I not only have to pay for every little thing I do wrong, but I have to pay for any happiness, too. If I had to pay with such bad allergies for the mice, imagine what I’d have had to have paid if a doctor could’ve enabled me to have a child?! He’d break my legs for it if he didn’t do something to Tom or to the baby and have it born with its hands where its feet were supposed to be or its nose where its ear was supposed to be.

I forgot to mention one other part of Andy’s trip to L.A. He went with his roommate Gary, Michelle, and her butch pal Chris. So there were 4 of them. Andy’s always been fascinated with Charles Manson and his “family.” So they went to the home of Sharon Tate, an actress who was murdered there at 8 months pregnant. It was a new home, though, and it was in a slightly different spot, but Andy recognized a certain tree that was still there from pictures taken of the crime scene. They saw a Jewish name on the mailbox and saw that there was mail in it, too. They left the mail alone but stuck in one of my wacky notes I periodically make up for him to distribute. He said that the house seemed like it was partly under construction. The front door was unlocked (I guess the residents figured no one would have the guts to go into a place where there were several grisly murders) and Andy and Chris went in and Andy played on the baby grand piano that was there. He also stuck a note of mine in the bench with the sheet music that was there.

Later…

I think someone was watching me from out back just now. I went out to chase that bitch of a cat off and their back patio light was on. A few minutes later, though, it was off and I thought I smelled cigarette smoke. I don’t know about that one for sure, but I do know that the cock smokes. I don’t know if the cock is even there, though, so maybe it was the bitch and maybe the bitch smokes. Or the teenager. But I just got a feeling that I was being watched, not that I give a rat’s ass. I mean, it’s not gonna change my life one way or another if they do watch me.

Sure is windy out now! But Bunny doesn’t mind. I stepped out to see if he wanted to come in, but nope. I don’t know how much rain, thunder or lightning will go with this wind, but we’ll see.

Later…

OK, at nearly a quarter after 8:00 at night, I’d say no one’s come out today unless they came when I was listening to music. That means that now we gotta wait and see if they’ll pay another fee for 3 more shots at me, or if they’ll drop it and go about things as they normally do, or if they’ll drop it and start even more shit.

I could be wrong, and it’d be nice if I were, but I think the freeloader’s back. I thought I heard car doors, but it’s hard to tell with the wind.

There was a local number on the caller ID box when I got up. The origin of it was unavailable. I tried to call it, with our number blocked, but all it did was ring. So I don’t know about this and the two anonymous calls that came during the weekend.

Later…

Tom is up now. I showed him how I was typing my next 4 journals, even though they’re ruled. It sure was hard to size up my margins to fit these pages. It took several tries. I’ll be using different colors, too. I thought I’d go with purple for this book, pink for the next, then cyan and green, all with bold or larger entry dates.

Yesterday was the first time in ages that we had time for sex, but I didn’t take the opportunity. I don’t know what it is with me lately, but I just don’t seem to have much of an appetite these days. Tom gave me the signal - he said he was going to go lie down. I laid down, too, as I usually do, but kept my clothes on. I just couldn’t get in the mood.

We did have a nice talk, though. He told me he was concerned that if we go to a doctor and it’s found out that I’m perfectly OK and the problem is him, how will I react? Will I blame him? Certainly not, I told him. It’s when I get suspicious that he’s lying to me and holding back on his true feelings about having a child, that I have a problem with. But he feels that I blame him for all kinds of things that are out of his control. Even things like the weather. That’s being a bit paranoid and sensitive, and I told him that. A part of me wishes it was him with the problem and not me. Guys are easier to fix, cuz they’re on the outside. We women are on the inside. I still think, though, that the problem is both of us. I think it’s mental for him and physical for me. I still acknowledge the fact, too, that he may not know he has a problem. It still could be all in his subconscious.

Later…

We finally got some rain going out there. The kittens are out there now trying to get me to come out and play with them, but it’s just too chilly. I got quite a surprise as I opened the door one time, though. As I opened it, a cat fell down in front of me. White Feet was more than halfway up the inside of the screen door, the little devil! He dropped to the ground as soon as I opened the door, though, and ran. We never have the screen door shut tight, so that’s how they can get inside it.

I had been sending Bob my drafts for quite a while. You know, the system I’ve been using for ages where I type a page or two, print it out, then copy it into my written journals. I’d send the pages to him once I’d copied them. Anyway, since I have an envelope and a few pages set aside to go to Bob, and since I’m not gonna be doing drafts in the usual fashion for a while, I’ll just use those pages and print out a bunch of bull for him. Maybe old excerpts from Springfield journals.

I guess I wore the cats out. they’re quiet now. Good. I can concentrate better.

Anyway, Tom’s gonna be off to work real soon and I’m getting pretty tired. I’ve got to get back with the proofreading, so maybe I’ll do that till I crash.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1998
Freeloader update - since I last wrote, I only heard music once at a so-so volume. He did come and go 4-6 times a day as is usually the case on weekends, but all I heard, except for that one time of music, was car doors. At one point, it sounded like he was packing something into the car before leaving. Anyway, the day’s still young, and I’m sure they’ll give me some sort of shit to listen to.

I guess the courts don’t serve summons on weekends, cuz no one came to the door yesterday.

That lady who took the mice did return our cage, so that’s nice.

Also, I remembered that Tammy said Mark owned his own business, but I couldn’t remember what she said he did till I asked her again. He’s a sharpener. I asked her if he’s sharpened her brain. She said he’s trying to.

I’m really ready to wring Mary’s neck! I swear to God, something not only wants me to not have my husband full-time, but Mary wants to kill him. First it’s her car and now it’s a pipe in the bathroom that Ma’s gonna be using when she finally moves in there. He said he’d better take care of it cuz they don’t know what they’re doing. Well, why’d Mary get a house then? If you don’t know how to handle and maintain a house, you shouldn’t have one and you shouldn’t depend on others to maintain it, either. Dave and Mary should take care of their own house or get their own mechanic and repairman. He’s got to work tonight. Don’t they know this? Don’t they care? Or are they that selfish that they’d rather steal our time away from each other and take a chance of killing Tom than hire a plumber? This must be another reason God sterilized me; cuz he knew that Tom would have to drive them around and take care of their houses and cars. But if Mom and Mary weren’t my rivals and my competition for Tom, someone or something else would be. We’ll just never get to live our lives for us, will we? And this is all the more reason not to go to a fertility doctor, cuz even if they could fix me, I wanted a kid with him, not to raise by myself.

Later…

Oh, how frustrated, bummed and pissed I am! What a shitty day. The weekend’s been shot to hell, as much as I hate weekends anyway. It’s been over a week since I’ve even had sex with my husband. I said it’s OK to have a part-time sex life, I’m used to it, etc., but not this part-time. He said he agrees it’s been too long, but he can’t be that worried over it since he insists on being Mary’s caretaker. He still says it’s just the getting the preparations made and the moving done that’ll take time. Yeah, right! Even if she were moved at the snap of our fingers, we still have two houses to take care of for years (I know she’s not gonna sell that house and she’s giving us $200 a month to look out for it) and Mary or someone, will need him to do their work for them. And he still swears nothing could prevent us from the doctors or raising a kid and that he’d be there and all that crap, but it’s awfully hard for me to buy. It’s obvious that God wants us to take care of others and not live for what we want. So I told Tom, who still has to do more work for Mary cuz she’s too selfish to call a plumber, that if we can’t have a somewhat full-time sex life (and I know God won’t let me have that or my husband full-time), then we can’t have one at all. I’m sick of going back and forth here with this on-and-off sex life. I also refuse to go to a doctor until and if he can make the time for it (he knows too, that once you get started with that, there’s no turning back), we can’t go cuz it’d take at least 3 months for them to figure out what’s wrong with me. And that’s just half the battle. There’s still his infrequent cumming to deal with.

The other problem is Andy. Andy, Andy, Andy! He just won’t back off! First he was supposed to come yesterday, but he had to work later than planned, and today Marla, who he doesn’t talk too much, called. So, he was an hour late and he’s getting really damn obvious. I know he was deliberately late to piss me off. He says he doesn’t take my not wanting to talk to him every day personally, but I don’t know. Instead of him just picking a time to be here and being here at the agreed time, we have to play phone for 3 days leading up to it, then even longer, till he finally decides to come over. And how many times did I tell him weekends aren’t good? It’s like he’s trying to get my attention in person now that he can’t get it by phone.

Anyway, I told Andy all about what’s been going on here in general and he told me a million things, as I knew he would.

I told him all about the freeloaders and he understands that we use words that may be rather controversial, but we both know there’s good and bad in all kinds. We know there’s plenty of white trash out there too, but as I told Andy, don’t forget the racists that they themselves have created. In other words, what these sick fucks have done does not help put me in the mood to like blacks. Nonetheless, I’ll refer to them as I see fit to vent my steam.

Andy says he doesn’t know where Tom’s getting his information, but blacks do get terrorized by the KKK all the time. I know that there are enough hate crimes out there and that there always will be, but Tom said most people do like/accept blacks and that the KKK doesn’t run out doing violence against them; they just sit around and discuss their opinions. Whatever, though.

Andy also said that from what he can remember, the server fee was between $25-$50 and they try 2-3 times Then, it’s up to the complainant to either pay another server fee or try again, or to forget it. So, I think they’ve tried twice to serve me and that they may try again tomorrow.

So far, and to my utter amazement, they’ve been quiet today. My only question is, just what will they do when and if they just can’t seem to get me served?

I couldn’t believe it when I got up to find myself down to 120 pounds, but weight drops are always short-lived by me these days, and now I’m 125. Isn’t that sick? To gain 5 pounds in one day? If my metabolism gets any slower, I won’t have a metabolism left.

So Andy brought me coffee coupons and told me all about telling Quinn off and taking control over him for a change. He also told Quinn - you want your dick sucked - fine, but you gotta pay me $20 for it.

He told me about the convention and seeing Xena and other people from the cast.

He too, is having neighbor trouble, and I wish we could swap neighbor trouble, although his isn’t any fun, either. Apparently, some guy, who’s the city’s neighborhood snitch, is complaining about all the surrounding houses around him, including Andy’s. He complains about the yard and stuff like that. This guy repairs and sells TVs from his house, too, which he isn’t zoned for, so when Andy and others figured out it was this guy who was complaining, he called the city to complain about his TV deal. The lady said things that suggested she knew about his business, and said she’d get someone out to investigate, but never did. So, Andy’s gonna go above her to get this guy from having so many cars coming in and out, as well as to get even. And God will let him get away with getting even, too, even if I got even differently. Although I don’t know if I’d call what I did getting even. They aren’t stressed out about me. They never worry if I’ll wake them up. They never worry that I’ll be noisy for hours.

Remember I said I had that talk with God about making me pay for what I did if someone must pay for it? Well, I still wouldn’t be surprised if God saw me in a courtroom and through stress and noise from these freeloaders, but so far, I have gained weight, as I said I’d take from him. I told him please, no court, no vandalism or music from them. Give me the weight gain, the continuing sterility, and problems that would be on me. Well, the weekend was stolen from my husband and I, the snout on the water jug in the fridge broke and sort of flooded the kitchen, today was a boring day waiting on and listening to Andy, and there’s been more. I lost part of a document, too. As annoying as these things are and as much as they may make me want to tear the hair out of my head, if this is what I must take if I don’t want court or more shit from them, so be it. But like I said, we’ll see what happens. It’s way too soon to tell and I’m kind of vibeless right now. Speaking of vibes, Tom acknowledged I was right on my vibe about Mary. I told him after he fixed the car that there’d be something new. She needs computer work done, plumbing done, car work done. She’s a sweetheart and I really adore her, but she and Dave just won’t fend for themselves!

Tom said he always believed/knew I was psychic. He said he just didn’t know how much credibility to give it. That depends on how strong the vibe/vision is, I told him.

Spot had her babies and it looks like they’re all done. So now we can separate the males once they’re a bit older. On the 19th we’ll pick the males out of the oldest litters.

The kittens are really turning into cats, too.

My mom’s having a rough time of it now. She has spinal stenosis. There’s no cure for it, but she’s in therapy for the pain. She also has to use needles for diabetes.

Got a letter from Kim. She and Walter are done cuz he doesn’t want kids. Typical male.
Web Analytics


Last updated June 17, 2024


Loading comments...

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.