September 1998 in 1990s

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1998
Thanks to Benadryl, I backed my schedule up by 6 hours. I had gotten up at noon yesterday. Too late to make my October 5th appointment with Melanie, but too early to flip it all around by then. I also want to go out this Friday doll hunting, as planned (I have to remember to take Kleenex with me, though, because the outdoors is horrible at this time for allergies). If I hadn’t taken Benadryl last night at 9:00, I wouldn’t have crashed till around 4 AM, but with the Benadryl, I was out before midnight and I got up at 6 AM. Just in time to hear the bitch say, “Huh? No, I…” (I couldn’t hear the rest)

I don’t know why the cock bothered showing up this morning. Bill took the bitch to work/school this morning, then came back here. Then the cock came. I saw someone a couple of times walk around the back of Bill’s car, but couldn’t make out for sure who it was or what the hell they were doing. Then the cock left, leaving Bill to go about mistake-sitting, as usual. But why would the cock come by if it wasn’t needed to mistake-sit or cart its bitch to work/school?

I got a kick out of how yesterday’s horoscope said that a parent who’s aware of one’s concerns is willing to behave differently. Right! Dureen would have to die and come back as a totally different person before she behaved differently. Tom was teasing me with the atoning for my sins thing since yesterday was the Jewish New Year. I’m jokingly thinking - Dureen deary, are you asking God to forgive you for being such a selfish, hypocritical little control freak?

Later…

I’m writing longhand now in the book Mom gave me. The one I’ll take to Vegas with me with the pitiful artwork. The reason I’m using this book now is that I have the computer tied up burning away another CD. I figured what the heck? I’m sure it’ll crash at some point, even though I defragmented drive E and it’s already written 9 tracks.

I had Tom bring me in the scale since I knew my weight was up there anyway (as of yesterday I piled on pounds of water) and so I could begin another test. Tom felt I’d be less hungry if I wasn’t weighing myself daily. Well, I want to see if I remain less hungry because of the mineral pill, or if pulling the scale back out brings the hunger back.

Wow! It’s on track 11!

Anyway, the mineral pill’s been doing so well at curbing my hunger, that I’ve decided that two TV dinners a day plus a snack are too much for me. I’m gonna be cutting out one of those TV dinners.

So, what was my weight? 118 pounds. A surprise because I thought I’d be in the low 120s.

Track 12.

I know why I was so bummed out about my weight for the last year or so. It’s because I was setting unrealistic and unachievable goals for myself. Setting a goal of 100 pounds was ridiculous and totally asking to fail. I’m a nearly 33-year-old non-smoker, so to get under 110-115 pounds is a complete joke. My body can’t handle being that low in this day and age.

So, with these facts in mind, I’ve set a realistic, achievable goal weight of weighing 115-120 pounds. This is perfect for me now and something my body can feel comfortable at. It’s a natural, reasonable weight, so I can continue looking like a middle-aged woman should look.

Holy shit! It’s on track 14 and it looks like this CD may happen after all since it’s nearly done. I only have 18 tracks on this one. It’s like it has a mind of its own and it only creates a CD if it feels like it.

Track 15.

I went into the file box and browsed through the treadmill’s owner’s manual and was shocked to discover two things. One, it is not a weight-loss device, but just a fitness device. Two, all they recommend is 12-15 minutes every other day. Why not 30-60 minutes every day? What’s wrong with that? Why do they recommend a day of rest every other day? I can see a day of rest every other day from target toning or weightlifting exercises, but why from walking? And why warm up and cool down, as they recommend, just to go walking? Lastly, I do more than 12-15 minutes every other day, so if this is supposed to be a “fitness” device, then why am I so unfit?

Later…

Got lucky and the CD was a success. I’m defragging now, then will power down and restart. Should I try another one today? I have a feeling it’ll crash, but we’ll see.

Drive E is now 83% defragmented now.

No stereos today or yesterday - wow! Just the usual sales calls and their harassment campaign.

Later…

OK, I’m trying another CD. If this works, I’ll only have one more music CD I’ll want to make up, then I can decide whether or not the convos/edits are worth burning.

I’ll go get my book now and bring it back here to the back room so I can keep an eye on the computer.

Oh, first - I made up Mary a little get-well card. Well, sort of. It was one of the ones sent from Doe and Art.

OK, gonna grab me a cup of my Café Vienna and my book.

Later…

It’s utterly gorgeous out there right now. Not too cool, not too hot. Perfect weather for the mistake to hang out back and to have doors and windows open. I just heard the mistake, but fortunately, I’m not out back very often. I have no reason to be. From now on, especially since quitting smoking, I don’t go out back but to let the cat in and dump the recyclable stuff.

It’s nice not seeing White Paws for a couple of days. Not since I sprayed her with Raid. She’ll be back, though.

Tom’s gonna pick up a feeder for Blackie for when we go to Vegas. He could get his own food, but not like WP can because male cats aren’t as good hunters as female cats are. I don’t like the idea of knowing that WP is gonna help herself to this food, and maybe daddy cat and the ants (although Tom will spray for ants) but at least Blackie won’t go hungry. We’ll be putting it at the side of the house where the birds won’t find it. I hope not, anyway. If there’s anything that really annoys me about Blackie, it’s that this cat is such a whiner. Just about every single fucking time I go outside he whines and whines till I let him inside. It’s really annoying.

Tom just got up and is going to stay up for a while.

You know, I’ve counted food calories, but I’ve neglected to count my coffee calories. Not regular coffee, but the gourmet ones. I have about 8 cups a day and that’s about 500 calories right there. No wonder it’s been so easy keeping my goal weight. If I eat 900 calories worth of food and no-calorie or low-calorie beverages, that’s one thing. It’s another to have 900 calories worth of food and an additional 500 in beverages. All this time I’ve been figuring myself at consuming 900-1000 calories a day, but I’ve really been taking in around 1400-1500 calories a day.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1998
How utterly amazing - not one stereo’s banged by today. Yet. That drug cruiser’s gonna be by any sec no doubt.

Just like Joebitch sticks to her usual weekend routine of a shitload of cars coming and going, it’s sticking to its usual weekday routine, too. Bill sits the mistake, the cock brings its bitch home. I doubt the cock’s picking up its bitch in the mornings, though.

Guess I really terrorized that cock out of this neighborhood. He won’t even park in the bitch’s driveway. Too bad, Mikey. You came into this neighborhood, you treated me like shit, this is what you get.

Mary had her gallbladder removed today and now they’re checking it for cancer, which I don’t vibe. Evie has to have hers removed, too.

In Evie’s email to me, she wanted to know if we could attend Parker’s baptism. I told her we couldn’t make it, which is probably true with our schedules, but the further truth is, neither of us cares to go. I mean, how fucking boring! She said she hoped she wasn’t offending anyone, but that she didn’t invite Jackie and Jim because she doesn’t like the way they do things. I told her I thoroughly agree with her and that I think they’re spoiled, selfish little users. Don’t want to know them, don’t want to talk to them, don’t want to see them. I also reminded her, although I’m sure she’s heard about it, that Tom’s put his foot down and is gonna live his life. Not spend his time and money on others who are too lazy to do their own work and live their own lives. David and Evie haven’t really been the big users of the family. Not compared to Pam, Jackie, Mary, Evelyn, and of course, good old Marge.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1998
Yes, it’s been two whole days since I last wrote. That’s because I’ve been tied up with the CD-making task again, and as usual, it’s hit or miss, but mostly miss. I feel, though, that I’ve gotten just about all I want onto CD, so I don’t need to waste my time with it anymore. I don’t really need to have the edits and convos on CD, since those don’t mean what they used to mean to me. It’s a costly and wasteful project since it takes 20 CDs just to make 5-7. I’ve got about 15 CDs made up now, and I had to go through about 25-40 to get them.

From how I feel and from what my measurements say, I’ve gained some weight. I’ve got to be no less than 118 pounds now. Why, I don’t know. It’s a total mystery to me. I’ve been sticking to my diet like glue, thanks to this mineral supplement, I’ve been regular, and I’ve been exercising, so I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. Once again, I cannot deal with this shit year after year. I have to be fat if I’m gonna remain a non-smoker and the sooner I accept that, the easier my life will be. It’s just not in my nature to be thin anymore. Not at this age and not without the cigarettes.

Wish I had my water pills now, but tomorrow I’ll call in a refill. It’s mostly in my gut, although my legs and hips are pretty swollen, too. And I’ve been exercising these areas, too, but like I said, exercising by doing target toning is just a complete waste of my time. It may work for most people, but God sure as hell won’t let it work for me. Initially, I lost weight and began toning up a bit when I first started the exercises and the mineral supplement but then went right back to how I normally am. This is typical, too. Having something work at first, then quit working on me, is nothing new.

Later…

What is it with cats liking abuse? I spray White Paws with bug spray, I kick her, I chase her, yet she keeps coming back for more. Does she really like it, or is she just that stupid?

Caddy Kid’s back. Yeah, I knew it was just a matter of time. It gets worse, too, because now we’ve got some other car cruising the neighborhood for drugs. This same car banged by really loud over and over and over again this afternoon. What? Do they cruise up and down a street hoping someone will come out of their house to offer them drugs? So, since it’s a nightmare again with the stereos booming and thumping by several times a day, I really must have my own stereo on if I want to get any sleep.

Joebitch gets weirder and weirder by the day. Saturday and Sunday nights a red car came to visit. Why are there so many cars in and out of there on weekends? Am I ever gonna get a weekend without having to listen to the constant door slamming?

I just hope that they don’t move till we do and that things will stay the way they have been as far as the music goes. As long as I don’t hear music a million times a day from over there, then I know they’ll be sticking around. I never thought I’d find myself hoping that they don’t move, but I’ve decided that whether or not we go first, they are going to receive the little journal excerpts I put together for them. I’m not gonna waste all that time I put into it and besides, if they’re gonna fuck with the house if they go first, they’re gonna fuck with it with or without those excerpts. In their sick minds, they have enough reason to go after the house as it is. Just the city complaints alone will do it because that’d piss them off enough.

Speaking of being pissed, I was lying in bed one night when I began to fume over Bill. Oh, how I just want 5 minutes alone with him!! Just 5 minutes! Tom says that’d just make him more aggressive. He has a point. For every time my mother would take a pop at me, that’d be 5 more kids I’d pop in school and take it out on, but I still think that all guys like Bill need a good beating from a woman. They need to be put in place and taken down a peg or two. They need to be reminded that there are others out there tougher than them and that they’re not capable of beating on everybody. One day (I sure hope) he’s gonna pick on the wrong woman and that woman’s gonna dog him. I mean, how long can man live with the delusion that if it’s smaller than them and if it doesn’t have a dick, they can beat it? There are lots of big guys out there and lots of tiny women that could kick their asses so bad they’d wish those ladies killed them. That’s not the main point, though, in this sick fuck’s case. Remember, he doesn’t beat Sarah and Becky. It’s because Lisa is part of “the other guy.” Bill’s also a very sick, angry little shit.

It just really pisses me off that now that I’ve put Dureen, Art and Larry totally in the past and am getting over the hurt and anger that they caused for so long, now the anger’s replaced by this fuckaroo. Is there ever an end to the thoughts of past people popping into my head and sending me into a rage? I just want to totally forget these people and move on. It’s the best thing I can do for my mental health. Cutting them off is a start, but I still have a bit of “healing” to do, so to speak. I mean, when it comes to my folks, there really isn’t any hurt or anger left. I’m just numb. They’re old news as far as I’m concerned. It’s the bullies like Bill, Larry, Ronnie, that tend to piss me off at times still, but hey, I don’t ever have to see, talk to, or be hurt or angered by these sickos ever again. And I remind myself of this fact and it helps me to get by. I may have old, bad memories, but never will there be new, bad memories in addition to the old ones. It’s all over. They can’t hurt me anymore. They can’t frustrate or piss me off anymore. They can’t hit me, they can’t lie to me, they can’t pit others against me, they can’t send me to places that treat me like a criminal, they can’t control me, they can’t threaten me, they can’t make me feel like a piece of shit.

I don’t know if I mentioned this, but my last period was the first period in many years where I didn’t need a big pad.

Today we went to the mall to look at a doll store there. They had hundreds of dolls, but only a few of them were nice, and they cost $200 - $400. They were also bigger than the ones I liked in the catalog. Friday we’re gonna check out another small store that’s not in a mall, and this place in Scottsdale that’s supposed to be one of the biggest doll stores in the country. If I don’t like what they’ve got here, or their prices, I’ll just go ahead and order from the catalog in December with my birthday/holiday money. I feel like it’s gonna take me forever to accumulate 3-4 dolls, though, no matter where I get them! Marge, you little user! Why don’t you pay for them?!

Ratsy’s in a fine mood, jumping and running all around. Hope he won’t stay the unappreciative little bastard he’s been! We got him a really cool nest and a half-log to burrow in, but so far, he’s walking on the tops of them, but not going inside them. The next is a hollow ball made of straw-like material. It’s got holes on 4 sides of it to go in and out of. The half-log is a green piece of wood that’s dome-shaped. I think the mice would like these things better. The mice like anything and everything. We got them a toy, too (they all got salt spools and Ratsy got a new pink bottle).

For the mice, we got them a bunch of color cubes you put together. You snap clear pieces into colored frames, then you build them like toy building blocks. It’s pretty cool, but a little flimsy to build, and there’s not much variety that goes into it. Not unless you had many, many pieces. Like 2-3 kits.

Got two palm tree pictures for $5. They’re in gold frames, and I like this size better because it’s easier to work with. These are around 10 x 8.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1998
Joebitch has been a good girl, but a weird one. Is someone moving from her household? Well, I highly doubt she’s moving, because I’d vibe it, and because there’d be music like hell coming from over there, but what about that teenage boy? Is there a teenage girl living there? I remember Tom once said there was, and he’d see her leave for school in the mornings. There’s gotta be more than just her and the mistake over there. I just know there’s more over there, but if so, why don’t play ball more often for my sake?

Anyway, what I saw was a white pickup truck parked in the driveway with one box visible from the window I was peering out of. It left, then returned with what looked to be an empty flatbed. Then, it left with a lot of stuff in it and returned later emptied out. Then I saw Joebitch and the little clown talking to the two black ladies that Tom said he saw get into the truck one of the times it left, then they left and haven’t been back since. I also saw a large white blazer which left as soon as it came. It could very well be that the mother of that teenage boy, which was definitely her nephew, had to do some jail time, is now out, and is getting its boy back.

Last night at 11:00, I heard voices, and someone left from there, but didn’t see who it was. Then the bitch crashed at 11:30.

It’s just after 8:00 now and when I checked a little while ago, there were no lights on. This bitch doesn’t hit the sack early on weekends, so I’d say it’s out somewhere.

What the fuck is going on, though? Why do so many cars come and go from that place on weekends? No one loves a bitch that much, so what is it they’re getting from this bitch? It ain’t love. Is it drugs? What? Something’s going on. It used to be that the bitch may have someone over once one day of the weekend, but now, as soon as she’s home on Fridays they start coming, and they come and go like bees on both Saturdays and Sundays.

Later…

Well, well. Guess who’s here visiting? It’s Mr. Fuck! I’m not entirely sure since it’s dark, but that’s definitely a car that’s parked there, not a van or truck. And it’s also not white. I thought the bitch had been out with him, till I realized I didn’t hear/see the cock come to get its bitch, and I only heard one car door when I saw the headlights shining in the music room and paused the music to listen. Also, the living room and kitchen windows stayed dark, so it sounds to me like Joebitch called its cock from its bed, and he came running over and let himself in for a good fuck. I’m sure he still has the key, too.

What? Is this bitch afraid to be alone or something? She’s had company come and go now for nearly 10 hours. That’d drive me crazy. I’d be like - give me some space!

I forgot to mention that on Friday, Joebitch should’ve gotten some mail for a “Bill Garner.” Unless her dad opened it, and I hope not, she got a little confetti shower. I addressed it to Bill Garner and put a bogus return address. In the past, I’d never bother with return addresses. So, to the bitch, she’ll be annoyed as all hell, but won’t tie me into it. Not unless she’s one paranoid puppy. It should look like someone addressed it to her by accident, and nothing else. I put the confetti, by the way, in one of those blank cards that Doe and Art sent. I didn’t write anything on the card but a big question mark.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1998
I’m washing the shower curtain right now, and soon I’ll try to scrub our filthy, impossible-to-clean tub.

Later…

I’m on the phone gabbing with Andy now. He’s going through his usual few subjects - Stevie Nicks, work, and going back east to be with David.

He said he’s sure he’s leaving on April 30th.

Sure. Right.

I’m typing as I’m half-listening to his non-stop garble. But he’s my pal and I love him.

He started off by saying, “I didn’t get fired, but I got complaints two days in a row.” I asked for what, figuring he’d say it was for flirting, but instead, he was rude. So, he’s gonna be taking a break from waiting tables, which has really been stressing him out lately, and which he just isn’t into anymore, he’ll be hostessing. Seating the people, instead of serving the people. They’re only gonna pay him $7 an hour, though.

He said that the reason he’s going back on April 30th is so he can hitch a ride with Joyce and Bill. That’s his aunt and uncle and they go to Vegas every year. At least he won’t have to worry about springing the cash to get back.

Later…

After just over an hour, Andy finally let me go. He could’ve easily kept going till he had to go to work at 5:30, though. We talked about the usual - Stevie, Quinn, Dave, Michelle, and work.

He still wonders about what was really going through Quinn’s mind up till he died. He did tell me that some girl was rubbing his face in the fact that his brother molested him, trying to get him to deal with it and that that seemed to cause his mind to snap to the point that the police were called. During the cop’s visit to his apartment, they noticed all his drug paraphernalia, so they returned two hours later with a warrant. It looks like he was gonna be facing some jail time.

He also told me that when he and his sister were going through his things, they found a scrapbook full of all kinds of stickers. Mostly colorful ones that children would have. That was when the sister told Andy that that was part of the pervert brother’s way of rewarding Quinn. Whenever the brother would want a sex favor, he’d give Quinn stickers for it.

He says Michelle’s wasting her time. She met some gay girl online that she’s gonna meet. Well, if this girl shows up (it might not even be a girl) she says she’ll be happy enough to settle for friendship if the girl doesn’t turn her on. That’s what she says, but it’s not that easy, as Andy pointed out. She’s gonna be too pissed if she isn’t attracted to her. You get all psyched up to meet someone, then find them to be ugly, or at least not attractive, and you’re too let down and pissed to want to be all buddy-buddy with them. See, Michelle’s only 24, so she’s now learning the things I learned at her age. She’ll learn, though, and get used to reality at some point. At least I hope she does since she can’t change it.

Later…

Tom went to work an hour ago, but he’ll be back at 9:30. (I hope) It’s just that end-of-the-month bullshit he has to deal with. I say I hope he’ll be in then because rather than eating my second TV dinner, he’ll be bringing in my weekend treat of a small order of fries and a cappuccino shake. The shake may play on my tummy a bit, as is dairy’s favorite thing to do with me, but it’ll be worth it. I just hope he doesn’t get held up at work till 11:30. That happens to him sometimes, so, if he’s not here by 10:30, I’ll just go ahead and eat a TV dinner.

The Lopezs sure did get themselves a hell of a spotlight in their backyard. I was in the back room when I saw light reflecting on the house across the alley and went out to check it out. This light is really damn bright. Brighter than the freeloader’s security light. I think this one’s motion-censored, too.

I wonder if Tom’s back muscle strain will enable us to go back to screwing around till the next thing comes up to bump us out of our plans/schedule. Still haven’t been as horny as I used to be, still don’t want a kid, thank God.

Tom isn’t the only injured party here, believe it or not. I have mild pulled muscles in the backs of my thighs, and major pulled ones in the area in front of the armpits. The muscles that go down into the tits. It wouldn’t prevent me from screwing, though.

Still walking every day, although I do take 1-2 days off a week. Still about 113-115 pounds from what I can guess and the mineral pill’s still curbing 80% of the problem I was having with constant, intense hunger.

It’s Friday night, so the stereos are out. Someone’s been banging by for 3 evenings in a row at around 6:30, but when I run to look, I never see a car. I don’t think it’s Caddy Kid, because I’d see him. Also, Caddy Kid would bang by either three times a day or no times a day. This one’s doing it just once. The music doesn’t last for long and it’s not as loud either, so maybe it’s a block away. Or not driving past both the side and front of the house, since we’re on the corner. Maybe he comes up the side, but then turns the other way and doesn’t go by the front.

Measles really knows she’s my favorite bird. I put some seed on the block wall and she dove right into it. Whenever some of the others tried to sneak a bite at the sides of her, I shooed them away with a wave of my arm. Meanwhile, she didn’t even flinch. It’s like she knew I was guarding her.

Later…

Tom got in early and we just ate our weekend treat.

I cannot believe that I’m just about a week away from my first anniversary of quitting smoking. It’s unbelievable. I never thought I’d see this day. Tom did, though. He said he knew it was inevitable. He also says it’s inevitable that we’ll have a kid. I don’t want one, though, although that’d make me more eligible in God’s eyes. If Tom were right, but I know he’s not, then that’d mean I’d have to get fixed because of health problems. The only way I’d let them fix me is if it were necessary due to health problems/risks, but I don’t see how the hell there can be a connection. I’ve never heard of sterility causing health problems.

Andy said that for the longest time, he’d ask himself what his purpose in life was. Then, he realized that there were two purposes - to show Quinn that a man can love another man, and to lead me out here and to Tom and all that. Well, it sure is true that if it weren’t for him I’d never be out here. God would either have to find some other way to get me out here and to Tom or send Tom back east to me there.

I know Andy won’t move back east, but a bigger part of me wishes he would. He wouldn’t call me as much, although he’s improved with that. But talking once a month would be better for me than once a week. Hell, I could go months, but still, talking once a month would make our talks more special.

He’d also have my letters to look forward to, and I’d look forward to sending them.

Lastly, I’d get to laugh at him in the winter, which he gave me permission to do.

Except for Lisa, he left things behind. There are his parents, his brothers, nieces, nephews, the beach, other people he knows, bars he knows, etc. Although, if he and David hit it off, I doubt they’d go to bars. David lives in a house that he shares with two other guys. These two other guys are a couple, I believe, and they own the house. Or one of them does. As Andy told David (this is totally understandable) he doesn’t really feel comfortable about moving in with people he doesn’t know, so he and David are gonna look for a place of their own when Andy gets there. He says David’s gonna support him till he gets a job.

I hope I’m wrong on two things. I hope he really does go back. And I hope he and David have a great relationship. It’s sad, though, to see Andy have to give up this beautiful weather and his home here, to have the slightest shot at love. A person should be able to find love anywhere, but then again, I sure as hell didn’t find anyone like Tom back there and I don’t think there’s such a thing as a Tom S anywhere else. Not just back there.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1998
Today was a busy, yet productive day. I changed the mice and rats’ cages (did a neat new setup), did a quick little load of laundry for Tom, did the dishes, and made a little booklet of scanned pictures for Mom, Mary, and Dave. That scanner is one of the best investments we ever made. I scanned about 12 pages, each with two pictures per page, of animals and cage setups. Mostly pictures of Gizzy, Teddy Bear, Bunny and Spunky. I let them know I’d soon make a booklet with pictures of the cat, rat, and current GP.

Tom’s mom called while I was in the bathroom and left a message saying she didn’t think he should do any more work since his back’s bad. That was nice of her to consider him like that.

Tom says they’re gonna illegalize unavailable calls. Most unavailable calls are sales and it’s that way so that people will be more likely to answer and get suckered into something than they would if they could see the name/number of these assholes. They’re already illegal in Texas. All businesses must show their name and numbers. When we move we’ll go back to having two lines. One for the computer and for people we have to give our number to, but don’t want to be harassed by, like credit card companies. See, if we give Sears our number, for example, they go and give it to other companies, so since a lot of companies sell their customer list, it just keeps escalating till every sales company out there has our number. Two lines will also be good if Lisa calls and Tom wants to go on AOL while we’re talking.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1998
The cock came and got its bitch this morning and of course, Bill’s here now. I didn’t see the cock and bitch, but I’m sure the bitch will be dropped off in the afternoon by its cock, too.

Sometimes I want to say I’m around 110 pounds, other times 115 pounds. Well, I don’t know what I am. I just know I’m not below 110 pounds or over 120 pounds.

My allergies are on the fritz again. Bad time in Arizona for that.

Yesterday, I said to myself, my teeth are just now losing their soreness, and in just 12 days, I gotta be made sore all over again. Bummer!

Got some corny emails from Evie. A couple of stupid stories. One’s about hugs and the other is about burdens.

I’m still furious about our daughter. What? I spend 32 years being angry at my family, get over that, and now I have to be angry at his family? Thanks, God.

Maybe Tom could’ve mowed by now, could’ve fixed the back screen door, could’ve done a lot of things that we need to do around the house if he weren’t so busy having to live that asshole’s life for her. Yeah, he’ll be getting off of work in about a half-hour, then he’ll be heading over to her house to do yet more work for her.

I wonder why he stopped over at Mary’s to eat lunch, though? He said he was in the area and stopped there, rather than at our daughter’s house, but I thought he was supposed to have washed his hands clean of that user. Well, maybe he meant he’d still associate with her, but not spend another $4,000 on her or hours and hours of work, either. Hours that add up to months, even years.

The only thing that I believe will absorb some of this hurt, but mostly anger, is just not gonna happen. And that’d be our daughter paying half of our outstanding bills, giving him a few hundred to just blow on whatever he wants, and buying me a few of those dolls I want.

Again, that’s not gonna happen, and I’ll do almost anything for Tom’s family out of my love and respect for my husband (not buy her thousands of more dollars on things, but attend her funeral and things like that), but other than doing anything he may request of me, I don’t ever want to see his fucking family again and I can’t wait for the day that user dies.

Our daughter can’t give us back the time we’ve lost due to her, but she can give us back the money we’ve lost due to her. I’m surprised Tom’s not pushing for her to pay us some of the money back that she owes us and that she used us for. He’d push to get his money back if a company ripped him off of that amount of money, so why not her?

Later…

I had to take some Benadryl which put me out for a two-hour nap since I couldn’t stop sneezing.

Just walked 10 minutes and added those 10 minutes to the 5 minutes I’ve already walked. I’ll do more, too. Walking and playing the tiles game sure beats walking to music or reading while walking. It’s the quickest time-passer. It makes walking a half-hour seem like walking for a few minutes. Of course, I break up that 20 minutes to a half-hour over the course of the day.

Speaking of working out, well, I learned two new things about coffee. I learned that caffeine enhances a workout. Something to do with how it affects the central nervous system. It’s also a mild diuretic. No wonder I have to pee so much when I drink it. Even decaf coffee makes me pee like hell.

Tom brought the animals (except the cat) a treat today when he went to pick up sawdust. He got more nibble sticks, and also some Cheetos. There are orange ones and green ones. It said on the bag that it was for guinea pigs, hamsters, gerbils, mice and rats. Velvet and Ratsy didn’t seem to care for the orange ones, but they ate the green ones. The mice seem to like both.

He said he saw the perfect nest for Ratsy there that he’ll take me to see sometime. Right now he’s curled up in dreamland in the old plastic ball. He’s too big for this ball, though. It’s really only good for hamsters and gerbils. The mice never cared for the ball. They just sit there, rather than roam around in it.

Tom’s back is doing better. He said when he keeps moving, it’s OK, but when he’s still, it gets stiff.

He was able to work at our daughter’s house and says things are going as scheduled and he should be done tomorrow. Thank God!

He said he’s determined to get going with doing stuff for us and with living our lives.

We had another chat, which was good, about her and the money and all that. He reminded me that whether or not she knowingly took advantage of Tom for his money (which she never needed because she’s got 100 grand in the bank) or did so due to her illness, that money’s coming back because we’ll be getting about $20,000-$30,000 when she dies. True. And what goes around does come around. I really believe that. At least I do for most people. Someday those freeloaders are gonna make a reasonable request of someone and they’re gonna get shit on for it. Someone’s gonna bother them and stress them out someday. Fortunately, I’ve paid for all the people I woke up with my prank calls and I’ve paid for that child I’ll never have waking me up as I woke my folks up, but it’s gonna be another several months before I pay for the annoying calls I made. Remember, I have to pay at least 4 times over for the things I do. Got lots of more sales calls to be bothered by!

So, as Tom told me he feels he’s paid his debt to his dad, but it was something that he, at least in his mind, had to do. He’d hang out with his father because he was his friend, but when he hangs out with his mother, it’s because he’s being the “good son.” So, he’ll continue to visit his mom, but he’s not gonna give her hours of his time and thousands of dollars. He can at least visit her because what’s gone on with her is a totally different situation than what I went through with my family. His mother doesn’t abuse him in any way.

Later…

The cock’s on the street. Bill’s still here, too, but I expect he’ll slam out any sec. He’s parked outside of the carport, though, so I won’t hear his door so much.

That bitch is just like our daughter. Nothing but a user. Even if Bill has no wife and no life, you think he wants to put in all those hours of work in taking care of that little mistake and getting no money for it? I don’t think so. She’s using him.

Know what else shocks me? The fact that the cock doesn’t approach and leave the house blasting music. I mean if it’s on the street, what can I do, right? I’m surprised that once he gets as close as two houses away when he’s coming and that once he pulls out into the street when he’s leaving, he doesn’t really blast it. Maybe the bitch really doesn’t like the music real loud, because although she’s been with him when his bass was thumping, she’s never been with him when it’s really thumping. That’s basically his thing. Guess that bitch really does want to keep that house bad. Fortunately, I still vibe us moving before they do, thank God, so I can make my little delivery and not have to worry about them damaging the house.

Later…

If Andy really moves in April, though I know he won’t, then either Tom or I am right about moving in March or June. Or somewhere really close to March and June, if old patterns stick. As Andy pointed out, we’d always move within a few months of each other. So, if patterns stick, one of us should be right and I hope it’s him, of course. I just hope that it’s quiet till we split and that we go before our lovely freeloaders do!

Speaking of old patterns sticking, it should be quiet this winter. Normally, I’d get compensated for all this quiet time I’ve been soaking up, but I never seem to move out of a noisy situation. Except for the NHA. I’m not saying there won’t be enough basketball games, but it’s always after I’ve gotten a neighbor to quiet down that one of us moves. Not always, but usually. If things keep going as they have, though, the freeloaders should stay quiet as far as the music goes till they move. Or till we do. If they were moving right now, though, there’d be music like you wouldn’t believe. So, if I suddenly start getting based out, that’ll mean they’re moving, because then what would they care anymore? Not that they ever did care about me. Just themselves. They’ll probably revert back to their old ways after we move if we do move first. I don’t know if the cock will move back in, but it’ll spend nights there, which I’m surprised it doesn’t do now, and the music will be like old times whenever he does come and go. Same with the bitch’s cronies.

Later…

Today and yesterday were easier as far as the hunger goes. I hope that since I can’t be hunger-free every day I can at least be OK most days. I’m walking, doing inner thigh, hip, and arm exercises, and watching the calories. I’d guess my weight to be about 115 pounds now. My guess as to what I’ll weigh when I weigh myself next is 112-115 pounds. Wish I could say I’d be no higher than 110 pounds, but nope.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1998
This is unbelievable. I expected to remain in the high one-teens to the low 120s until I weighed myself again in mid-October. You know, like 117-122 pounds. When I woke up, though, I was noticeably thinner. Thinner than I ever have been since gaining weight, I think. My hips are down to a 35”! According to what I’ve kept track of on the calendar, my hips were 37” when I was 122 pounds and 36” when I was 117 pounds. After calculating, wouldn’t me having my hips at 35” put me at around 111 pounds? But could I really be down that low? Do I look it? I’ll have to ask Tom.

Meanwhile, I also almost buttoned up a pair of shorts that I couldn’t even come close to zipping, let alone buttoning. I could pull the material at the waist within 2” of touching and that was it. Now, I can zip them up and almost button them. If I tried hard enough, I’m sure I could button them, but not without squashing my kidneys and all that. No thanks.

Lastly, there was a really sexy bikini-like top that Andy gave me that used to belong to a friend of Michelle’s. Her friend was an exotic dancer too, and it’s a gold satin top, with black ribbon straps and black fringes hanging down to the hips. Well, I couldn’t even clasp that top around my tits when I was given this thing. I was a good inch or two away from the clasps reaching. Now - perfect fit!

Picked up five suspense movies at the video store yesterday, and Tom got a computer game in the mail that he was all psyched up about. I’ve seen three of the movies and they were great. I was afraid it’d turn out that I’d seen them before but had just forgotten, or that I wouldn’t be able to get into them.

Tom’s at our daughter’s house trying to finish up the six or so remaining hours of Mrs. Live-My-Life-For-Me’s work. I hope his back holds out during this slavery, which he hurt at work last night. Now all I have to do is hope that Mrs. Do-Everything-For-Me won’t end up worsening it.

Later…

I’m OK with never seeing Tammy again and I probably never will, but I sure miss Lisa. I really believe, though, that she’ll fly out here someday within the next few years. If not to live, then to visit.

She and Sarah are just kind of there in the looks department, but God I hope poor Becky’s looks improve for her sake. She is not only geeky and overweight, but her face reminds me of a little chipmunk. Tammy’s feelings would probably be hurt if I told her that of all three girls, I really see her in Becky. It’s so true, though. She also looks a lot like Bill’s niece Lisa who’d be in her late teens by now. She too, was a homely, heavy girl. I shouldn’t talk, though. I’m not only aging in looks, but I’m also looking like a total geek these days. I always had a geeky look to my face. Not my eyes, but in the mouth and chin area, I look really goofy. And although I’m thinner than I was last January, and although most women would probably swap bodies with me, I’m still fat.

That address label company sent me a few labels. God, I cannot believe people’s persistence! People just do not give up. They are so obsessed. There were 5 sales calls today and I’m sure there’ll be a few more. They’re right back to their old shit as far as the constant calls go. I don’t know anymore if Jenny C is tied in with some of these calls or not, but people sure are pushy.

Speaking of which, I just got an “unavailable” call and the guy asked for David S. Yeah, we still even get mail for him at times. Anyway, I told the guy to fuck off and he said, “Yes ma’am.” Well, we’ll see if this makes him all the more determined to call or not.

Anyway, the labels are seasonal and pretty boring for the most part.

Tom didn’t go to our daughter’s house today because his back hurt too much. He said he should be able to get around to it tomorrow. If he goes there and ends up getting more hurt, I’ll personally kill this woman myself! God, I wish this family didn’t live locally! I love Arizona and want to stay here, but sometimes I think California or Nevada would be nice. Then all these users wouldn’t bother him so much. Hell, I can’t believe Wendy doesn’t call anymore. Haven’t heard from her in months.

Tom’s dad was really big on people not taking advantage of others. He turned his brother away who was a homeless drunk and came to the house one day years ago. Tom said he never saw him that mad. Well, I always believed that if someone was a negative influence in your life, you should get rid of them whether they’re related or not. People need to have self-respect and look out for themselves.

Tom taught me the class he’s gonna be teaching to about 10 people tonight, so he could practice how he’d go about it. It’s that thing they taught him in Vegas about handling change and how the “ending phase” brings on feelings of denial, anger, shock, fear, and frustration. (I’d add depression) And the “neutral zone” brings on feelings of anxiety, chaos, confusion, uncertainty, and miscommunication. The “new beginning” brings on feelings of enthusiasm, anxiety, energy, hope, impatience, creativity, acceptance, and skepticism. Not all people get all these emotions, but some do, and it deals with how to deal with them best.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1998
The freeloader just got her yard done for free for being the city bum that she is.

Speaking of the little freeloader, I cannot believe the company-freak this lisp bitch is! Fortunately for everyone around here, there was no music. A bald black boy of about 6 years of age began to play basketball, but to my astonishment, it was only for a minute. Also to my astonishment, 3 cars came, and I never even heard doors. You’d think they’d give me a major slamming spree, but nope.

At 11:30, the white car, which seems to be the car that comes the most on weekends, came and took the bitch somewhere. I think this is her sister who drives this white car.

At 2:00 things got really weird. I couldn’t tell for sure, but the two cars in the carport were the white one, and the cock’s car. Out in the driveway, was a red one. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear the cock was living there. He probably did drag over his friends, though.

By 4:00 all cars were gone. Then an hour later, I saw the bitch standing by the red car, which took off shortly after. I also saw someone walking into the house that appeared to be a fat, Spanish woman in her late teens or early 20s. Her hair was wavy, and it was just past the shoulders.

Bill is over there mistake-sitting and given how the weather was this morning, I’d say it’ll be any time now that they’ll pop their windows and doors open and hit the outdoors. It was actually pleasant out, slightly cool. Summer’s just about gone, but the bees aren’t. The bees are still alive and kicking big time, whereas they were gone by mid-August last year.

In good news - I finished the proofreading! Finally, huh? Anyway, I may do some other long-term, fun project, but we’ll see.

Later…

I’m not the least bit surprised to say this, but the mineral pill seemed to stop taking effect yesterday. Yesterday, and today so far, I’ve got my mind on food an awful lot. I’m not back in the 120s like I thought I’d be by now, but I’m definitely still in the 115-120-pound range.

The goddamn phone’s gonna start ringing off the hook any second now. Last Friday by 2:00, there’d already been 20 calls. Lisa, Andy, sales, etc.

I just called and made the appointment with the GYN that Tom and I picked out. The soonest I could get was November 9th, but that’s fine. She’s an OB/GYN and she does infertility.

Now, I know that if I were smart, I wouldn’t even bother. Chances are great that I’m just not gonna get any answers. I don’t know why. It’s just a feeling I get. Also, Tom boldly lied through his teeth last night. I made a comment saying, “You cum more often than not,” to see if he’d go along with it and he did as he said, “Yup,” which is fucking bullshit! Total fucking bullshit!!

After I asked myself if there was any way he could be cumming without my knowing it and acknowledged that the answer was no, I then asked myself why he’d be lying about this. Why is he so afraid to let the truth be known to me? Is he afraid of how I’d react? He obviously isn’t worried about his testing interfering with things or giving him away. Somehow, he knows he can “beat” this testing thing. He seems to be confident about it, anyway. If we do go through with testing, and if he does let them have a sample of his cum, then I was right all along about his “selective cumming.”

Well, as I said months ago, I’m determined to never let the issues of sex or a child hurt, anger, or frustrate me again in any way. I refuse to let these things be a part of my life, and maybe that’s why I’m not hurt that he lied to me, although I suppose I should be. Any other woman probably would be, but because I no longer want a child, and because I got so sick of the whole damn screwy sex thing a long time ago, it doesn’t faze me. Not even I choose to cum anymore when we screw. Although, for different reasons, of course. I’m just not turned on enough, although I would cum regularly if he always went down on me instead of always screwed me. I’d just rather get off myself, but even that’s not so easy anymore.

This is the second out of three vibrators to break on me. So, unless it’s something up there trying to tell me this is a forbidden pleasure, vibrators suck. They’re made so shitty, so I’m just gonna use the last one I’ve got till it breaks, then no more vibrators.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1998
As far as I know, our little lisp bitch next door’s been behaving. I was only up till 4 PM yesterday, but in all that time, I didn’t see or hear any cars.

Maybe I’ve already mentioned this, but what I don’t get about this bitch and cock is this: If he’s got enough money to have such nice cars, and if he can keep a job steadily, why not marry the bitch and support the bitch and mistake himself? Can’t he take care of them? Why leave them stuck on welfare with all the rules and restrictions that go with it? Maybe the bitch just likes the idea of having something handed to her for free, even if it isn’t much. They’ve all gotta try to get something for nothing.

You know, it still really pisses me the fuck off the more I think of his mom and others on his side of the family. It really burns me up to know we’re out $4,000 and two years because of this selfish woman. Doesn’t she, Mary, Dave, or anyone else have a clue as to how much time and money we’ve lost because of her, Mary, and others? When Tom, who knows money well, told me just how much money we’ve been suckered out of, I was so pissed, and I still am, that I don’t know if I want to even see these people again. It’d just be way too hard to look them in the face and smile and be all nice to them.

I saw on the Caller ID box that Mary called last night after I crashed. Now, I know she didn’t call just to say hi. I’ll ask Tom when he gets up what she wanted from him this time. I just hope he sticks to his word of putting his foot down. I would’ve stopped at the first $100 and the first 10-20 hours of work I put in for Mrs. Do My Work For Me, and when I asked Tom why it took two years and $4,000, he said it was because he felt bad for her. Also, he felt like he owed his dad, who never took advantage of his time or money, but now he’s realized he’s paid his debt many times over. To me, we as children or grownups, don’t owe our parents anything. When they decided to have us, they should’ve known what they were getting into, and they’re not our responsibility. Marge just has no concept of money, according to Tom. Tom’s dad would take him with him to buy parts for jobs he needed and would pay him more than what the parts cost. And he never demanded so many hours, days, months, and even years of work from Tom, and he never played favorites. This woman, though, thinks all jobs should pay $20. He goes out and buys $100 worth of parts, then 5 hours, or days later, depending on how long the job took, she gives him $20, then says she’ll “catch him later.” In other words, what she’s really saying is, “I got what I wanted from you, now fuck off.”

Now, his dad may have given us $10,000 towards buying this house in ‘93, and mom may have bought us a $3,000 AC/heat pump, and given us other things, and we may be doing well financially these days, but with all the money spent on her, we could’ve bought this shit ourselves many times over.

People with younger kids have no respect for others. They think they’re special and that they should come first, and they think they’re owed top this, top that. I’ll bet you anything that Pam raided that house right along with Jackie, Jim, David and Evie.

I wish Marge would just hurry up and drop dead, and I don’t give a shit how mean, selfish, cruel, ungrateful or spoiled that sounds. We’ve lived her life for her long enough. My whole life has been total overkill on taking care of others first and myself last. Or just not being able to live my life for myself and do the things I want to do for whatever reason. Either fate wouldn’t allow it, there wasn’t enough money, etc. I’m not saying no one ever did anything for me or spent money on me. Look at all the help I got from Tammy, Dureen and Art in getting me the hell out of New England. Look at all Tom’s done for me. Nonetheless, my whole life’s been what I was forced to be like, to say, to do, but no more! No fucking more! I have too much self-respect these days to be taken financially or to associate with people like Dureen and Art who don’t love/accept me as I am and who are control freaks. Everything has always been what I can do for others. Not what I can do for myself, but for others. Well, I’m taking my life back now that should’ve been mine the day God gave it to me. As soon as she does die, though, Mary, Evelyn, and others are gonna be bombarding Tom with do-this-and-do-that-for-me requests because they’ll think that when Mom dies, he still won’t want his own life and his own money. Well, they’re wrong!

Deep down, though, I will always appreciate the fact that there was never any violence, verbal, emotional, or sexual abuse in this family as there was in mine. (there was no sexual abuse in mine, though, that I know of) Tom said Ma’s long-dead stepfather was a violent drunk, though. My family consists of abusers, his consists of users.

Of course, I want to do things to please Tom, because he’s the love of my life. Of course, I’ll talk to Lisa. Of course, I’ll tell Andy something in Spanish for him if I can. I’m just saying that Tom and I need to live our lives too, and do stuff for our house, and use our money for us.

In better news, I never knew it when he came into bed last night, so that’s great.

We got our yearly check from SRP for a few hundred dollars, so now we can hunt for the best airfare deals and head on over to Vegas! See, there are two electric companies. APS and SRP. We have APS which is more expensive, so SRP pays us the money we would’ve saved if we’d had them. The people can’t choose who they use, though. It all depends on where you live.

We also picked out a lady OB/GYN (Dr. Wells) for me to call this week for a check-up and to start the testing. I can’t believe I’m finally doing this. Or at least, it looks like I’m gonna be doing this.

I asked Tom if he felt that doing what Andy’s sister Linda did is a form of a black market paying for a person and all that. He said he doesn’t feel paying for fertility stuff/babies in that way is like the black market.

Later…

Tom got up a while ago but has gone back to bed to at least rest. He has to go to work tonight at 7:30.

Mary called to say what she did at Marge’s house. She and Dave went over to play around with the stuff, more so than to help do their fair share of work. Tom has the dumpster till Friday, so at least he’s not too pressured to finish the job, but you’re talking another 5-6 hours’ worth of work he has to do for her.

Thank God there is a Mary and Dave and other relatives because then we’d be stuck with her living here and with 100% of the work, instead of 90% of it. I probably would’ve insisted she go to a nursing home.

Tom was telling me about a disturbing movie he saw that he hopes I don’t see. I won’t want to see it now since he already told me about it. Besides, I pretty much only watch the movies we’ve been renting. I do like commercial-free movies better than TV shows (series) but I hate today’s acting style almost as much as yesterday’s. Yesterday’s was overkill on the dramatics, but at least you could hear what they were saying. Today, there are fewer dramatics, but you can’t hear a damn thing they say, because they talk so fucking soft. And there’s just too much repetition. Like I said, it’s wrong for Dureen and Art to have tried to control/change me like they did, but I can understand how easy it is to get sick of hearing the same things, or things that are of no interest to me.

Being a drama schoolteacher must be easy. I mean, all you gotta do is tell students, “Talk really soft and show no emotion.”

I’m really excited about taking up a new hobby - doll collecting. I’m done collecting mugs, stickers, rodent cage parts, journals and CDs. I wish it weren’t so costly, but I just can’t get over how cute/lifelike some of the dolls in this catalog are! Tom and I are gonna look around the city to see if we can find dolls that are just as nice and compare prices, but I’ll keep this catalog just in case. Hope I win big in Vegas!

I’ll describe the four dolls I’d like to start with getting over the next several months.

The Rapunzel doll, which looks like a small child, is 19” tall with long blond hair, brown eyes, and a dark green dress. If I could change anything about her, I’d make her hair dark and I’d change her dress color to pink.

Katherine Rose, who also looks like a small child, is 14” tall like the Jessica doll I’ve got, with hazel eyes, auburn hair that’s up in a bun with curls hanging down on the sides, and a burgundy-colored dress.

Patrice, who looks like she’s a teenager, is 14” tall and a beautiful ballerina. She stands on one toe, with the other straight up behind her. She’s got dark curly hair piled up with loose curls spilling around her face, dark eyes, and a beautiful, sleeveless, light blue tutu.

Summer Dream is the most realistic and womanly doll of them all, although Patrice is pretty realistic-looking, too. Summer Dream is 19½” tall, and a gorgeous bride with blue eyes and blond hair piled up. I love how her backless gown falls off the shoulders.

I guess I never did describe Jessica, the one I stole in the mail. Well, she’s 14” tall with long blond hair, blue eyes, and is a young child wearing a light blue cotton dress with a matching bonnet and holding a teddy bear.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 1998
I have a shitload of shit to update on. First of all, I wouldn’t be surprised if Andy was a pest this weekend. Or at least till we get to talk live next. Red Lobster called me yesterday asking if “Mark” was gonna come in and I let him know that he didn’t live there and that I was just listed as a reference. I gave him his number. Andy left a message later saying he didn’t know why I was called. Guess the kid couldn’t read his file correctly, but Andy’s kind of on-call and doesn’t know from one day to the next whether or not he’s doing lunch or dinner. He hates Red Lobster because he’s making shitty money there. Too bad, because I know he’s wanted to work there for quite a while.

Anyway, in his reply message to me, he also said he had some exciting news for me that he wants to tell me live, and I’m thinking - Great. I can’t wait. I’m sure the exciting news is nothing more than a guy he met who he thinks is Mr. Right and that he’ll live happily ever after with, something about Stevie Nicks, or some hot new career he thinks he’s getting into. Nonetheless, I’ll listen to whatever he has to tell me. I’m not a Dureen. It’s not like I don’t care or love and accept him as he is, and it’s OK for him to talk about stuff that doesn’t interest me.

Got up a couple of hours ago and left Andy an update on what’s been going on, which I’ll update here in a sec, but I don’t always expect him to remember or even get what the hell I’m saying.

Haven’t heard from Andy or Michelle about those messages I left. Yeah, I finally got around to leaving some messages with the different voices reading goofy text.

Lisa called me yesterday to fill me in on things. I know that she’ll be calling while she’s suspended. Bill didn’t hit her. That was a relief to know, but she’s still upset with how Tammy appears to be contradicting and she doesn’t like how she’s always talked about. I told Lisa that the sooner she learns that most people are contradicting and that people will always gossip about her whether it’s in a good or a bad way, the easier her life will be (as if Andy hasn’t spent hours and hours talking about me to Michelle).

She said she called Larry’s for the first time in a while and that now she sees what I mean. She said she called wanting to talk to Jen, but Larry answered. She said he sounded very cold. Yeah, I knew it. As I told her, sooner or later, he’s gonna reach his fill and basically wash his hands clean of her. He’s a wimp. Can’t deal with other people’s problems. He didn’t just dump me years ago because of things I said and did to him, Sandy or Michelle, but because I had so many problems back then.

Anyway, instead of thinking - I told her not to call - now she can hopefully learn her lesson from this. She got to see what I was talking about, so hopefully she, Tammy, and her sisters won’t ever contact Mom, Dad, or Larry. They’ll only hurt them. Maybe not right away, but they will. For every good, fun time you can have with these people, that’s 50 frustrating, bad times you get too. They’re not worth it. The bad in them outweighs the good by way too much.

Still haven’t weighed myself in days, and now that my water’s gone and my period has passed, I don’t think I am back in the 120s after all. That trace mineral pill still seems to be making a world of difference, but it’s still too soon to say that it’s because of that. I do have a few days here and there where I’m not hungry every other second, but we’ll see. If I still feel more energized and less hungry a week from now, then yes, I’d say the mineral pill is helping.

If they didn’t make Benadryl, I’d never have gotten to my boring, uncomfortable appointment yesterday. I was in such a foul mood yesterday and I’m sure they all could tell. First, Melanie did her thing which wasn’t too bad. The pressure was only for half a minute, rather than for two or three, but the time I had to spend waiting in between Melanie and the filling, bored me to utter frustration. As well as bitterness towards God. If he’d just let me come into this world normal, I wouldn’t have to go through this shit. Wasn’t just the ear thing alone enough? Obviously not. But at least I get such a great-looking orthodontist out of it.

Novocain is a slow-acting drug. It takes a good 20 minutes or so for it to set in and really numb things up. And it also makes your heart race. It would’ve been fine if Melanie stayed in the room and chatted with me, but I was left all alone in there. I don’t know if it’s because she didn’t want to be around me, or because she had other things to do, but after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor and Oprah came in and filled me.

The doctor may not be such a liar after all. I told him I was surprised I had a cavity since I’d been brushing really well and he said it’s not so much that I have a cavity, it’s that the old filling broke up and left an area of decay exposed that had to be refilled.

Anyway, the soreness caused by Melanie and the doctor combined brought me to tears of frustration when I got home, and I’ve been taking a lot of Ibuprofen. I may have a lot of curses, but boy am I blessed to have such a wonderful, supportive guy like Tom.

Now that my appointment’s over, Tom and I can go back to being “normal” and sleep together.

Later…

What? Are we not working this morning, bitch, or are you back to leaving at 7:30, instead of earlier? Well, I don’t think she’s working. I think it’s some type of training thing. I’ll hear when Bill gets here.

Tom says he doubts the bitch’s cock will move back in again, but I disagree. I hope he’s right, but if I’m right, I’ll just have the cock kicked out again. It’ll only take up to two weeks to boot his ass out of here, and while I’m still here, if you can’t cut it in this neighborhood - you’re out of here! Particularly when it comes to next door.

Those Lopezs are very very lucky that I didn’t know that I’d be here this long back in ‘93 and that I know I won’t be here more than another year. Those dogs have been horrendous lately, and if I’d known I’d be here this long, or if I suddenly wanted to stay here, I’d either take legal action or have those dogs taken away or destroyed. It’d probably be one of the last two since legal action probably wouldn’t do me any good. The courts would tell them to keep their dogs quiet, the Lopezs would say “sure,” then carry on as usual. The only way they could shut those dogs up, anyway, would be to either keep them indoors or debark them.

Here’s Bill.

Later…

Lisa called and we spoke for about an hour. She’s bothered by the fact that people think she’s cutting herself to get attention. I know better, though. Take it from someone who was just like her - it has nothing to do with attention-getting. It’s an illness, and until she learns to channel her anger/depression/frustration differently, this is how it is.

I told her, using the cutting, the weight loss, the ear surgery, the teeth, etc., that it just takes time to solve most problems. They can take years to solve, but if not, they don’t usually get fixed overnight.

I told her that after dealing with two of the three things that I was born without/screwed up, it’s still hard, and it’s taken a long time (she knows about the ear and teeth, but didn’t know about the DES, which I explained to her).

She said she thinks of having a kid, but not at her age, naturally. More like when she’s 27. I told her that in my opinion, not getting married or having kids before age 25 is good. I think that between 25-45 is good. Of course, at her age, she sees 30 and 40-year-olds as antiques. I told her that once she got into her 20s, her 30s and 40s wouldn’t seem so old. Guess it just depends on where you are in life. At 80 years old, wouldn’t the 60-year-olds seem young?

She told me that this 16-year-old from school had a miscarriage, and the next night, she and her boyfriend were out partying. She also feels, though, that it was the best thing since she was so young and since this girl’s parents shouldn’t have been parents themselves from what she told me. I didn’t know God had it in him to kill a child that was inside of another child, but of course, he shouldn’t have stuck it in there in the first place.

She also says she found an old video of me. The one I sent in ‘94 with Tom and I at Castles & Coasters, and with Piggles swimming.

Lastly, she was describing the nuisances of having ADD where you can’t focus too easily on things. I swear that girl and I have everything in common except for two things. I never had the desire to become a meteorologist (not that she’s necessarily gonna end up doing this for sure) and I see nothing to indicate that Lisa’s gay or even bi in any way.

Never have I heard Tom utter one bad word about his father, and never have I heard him utter one bad word about his mother. Until yesterday. He’s fed up with what I got fed up with in ‘95 or ‘96. The constant demands. Do this for her. Do that for her.

See, as much as Tom disagrees with this too, back when his parents got married, it was common for the man to be the boss in every sense of the word. His parents were always the opposite of my parents. With my parents, Doe’s the boss. With his parents, whatever his dad said was what his ma did. So, now he’s not sure if the fact that his mother’s been taking advantage of him has to do with her illness or her own nature. Was she always this way? Is this the true Marjorie S that only emerged after Dad’s death? Although, I think it all started as soon as Dad got sick.

I’m glad that Tom told both his mother and Mary how he feels, and this is what he told me: He’s mainly bummed out by all the time and money he’s put into her, while she just gives hundreds of dollars worth of things to Jackie and Jim, David and Evie, etc. All they have to do is ask and they get. Tom spends 5 hours doing a job for her that costs him $30 worth of parts and what does she give him for it? A lousy $20. Meanwhile, that’s $10 and 5 hours he’s lost that we could’ve spent together, doing things for us for a change, in our house, and that’s money that could’ve been saved towards moving.

He totally regrets giving up his Nissan for her Ford, but Ma felt like she was doing him this huge favor and was all bummed out at the idea of him not taking the fucking thing. He’s spent so much money and so many fucking hours fixing this car. It’s getting better and it’ll be a sufficient enough car to have till we get a new one, but at least with the Nissan, it never wouldn’t go at all. He could put quick fixes on it till he had time to work on it. Not with this Ford, though. He has to work on major, money-eating problems right then and there or be without a car.

As I told him, I always did feel that he was the one who had to do the bulk of her work. He has to be Mary’s fucking mechanic, he has to put in a shower door at her house because Dave’s too stupid to, and on and on and on. He’s his mother’s driver, his mother’s this, his mother’s that, but everyone else gets to get things for nothing. They don’t lose any time or money.

I really think it’s because we don’t have kids. His mother obviously thinks that just because he has a life, he doesn’t mind giving it up for her. Well, she’s wrong, and I’m sick of the demands from that family and I’m sick of the favoritism. They’ve lessened lately, but still. Poor Tom has to spend hours at her old house, after working all night, emptying the stuff into a dumpster, while everyone else gets to sit on their fucking asses and get shit handed to them. I hope he’ll enjoy the memories that the stuff brings, though, because he was very close to his dad.

Years ago I wanted to tell Ma, “Hey! You’re running him ragged and I’m afraid you’re gonna kill the guy! He needs to get his sleep and he needs to live his life, too.”

But of course I never did/would because it’s not my place to. Not unless something serious did happen to Tom. Tom’s not blind, though. Unlike some people, he’s able to see what this has done to him/us, and he knows when to draw his own lines.

So, Tom’s basically had to decide whether or not to wash his hands clean of the situation, which he knows would mean sticking more on Mary, but tough. There comes a time when you have to think of yourself and your own life, too, you know. He’s not gonna dump his family in the way that I dumped mine, but he’s not gonna spend all this time and money on living her life for her.

I still love his mother dearly as well as the rest of the family, but if I were in their company right now, I don’t think I’d be my usual bubbly self. I think I’d be distant with a neutral tone of voice and they may perceive that to be cold, but like Tom said, you can’t control/change what others think.

I’m proud of him for speaking his mind and for making the decision he’s made.

I don’t know if she’s gonna sell the house or give it to Jackie and Jim, who are under the very false impression that they can rent that house out and get money for doing nothing. Well, if they take that house, they’re gonna be in for a surprise when they start calling for Tom’s help with maintaining it because the answer’s no.

I asked Tom if he thought I was using him for rides to the doctor and he said no because that’s part of our system, just like he’s not using me to do his laundry. True. Very true.

Both yesterday and the day before, I just missed the call back from Dr. Brown’s office. Lisa, the secretary called and left a message. Again, was I meant to miss the call? I sure felt like I was.

So yesterday, Tom offered to sit down with me this weekend and pick out one of Intergroup’s GYNs and just go directly to them so I wouldn’t have to go for repeat PAPs and all that BS.

Just a little while, though, Lisa called. It came up as private (private in the back and anonymous in the living room) and I picked up thinking that although it was early, maybe it was Andy. It was Lisa, though, and I recognized the voice right away. She asked how I knew it was her and I told her I was very good with voices. Anyway, she told me the primary doctors allow you to go once to another doctor without a referral and to call her back if there are any problems.

So, I guess it’s off to whatever GYN we pick out.

Later…

Oh, brother! Here we go again. What’s Andy’s wonderful news? Well, in his message to me, he says he’s definitely moving back east in April. David’s gonna pay for it, he’ll be moving right in with David, and he just doesn’t want to be alone anymore. Yeah, right! I mean, I know he’s desperately lonely, but I also know I’ve heard this before from him about moving back east and I know he’s not gonna do it.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1998
Unbelievably, I slept through a power failure. In the past, as soon as the power would fail, I’d wake up to the sound of the fan shutting down, the instant the power failed. I guess that since I’ve become much more relaxed since I don’t have the stress of next door’s old shit on me anymore, I can sleep better, but the power failure had to be only for a few seconds. If it were longer than just a few seconds, I’d wake up to the outside noise. Car doors, dogs, squeaky breaks, the mail going through the slot, anything.

I created new color themes, but I’ve got to fine-tune some of them.

Yesterday morning the freeloaders slammed doors for what seemed like forfuckingever. Looks like we’re back to the old routine - the cock’s taking the mistake for the day and the bitch is going off with Bill. Although, the cock was here longer than usual. At least for 15 minutes. Before, he’d just grab the mistake and split. Also, Bill’s car was here for quite a while, too, even after the cock left.

Later…

Tom brought home natural mineral pills called chromium picolinate. I’ve never heard of it before, but so far it’s a gift from God. I repeat, so far, since things have a way of seeming to do me good at first, then not so good after all.

As I may have mentioned, I’ve really had it with being hungry all the time. It was really taking its toll on me. Tom put the scale in the garage, which I don’t need anyway because I can tell when I lose or gain weight. I’m already gaining back the weight I’ve lost, but that’s OK. Nowadays I’m more into how I feel. Not how I look. I can be a fat person. No one’s gonna shoot me for it, and my husband will love me just the same. Anyway, the purpose of these mineral pills is to curb hunger pangs. It said that low blood sugar causes poor concentration, weakness, and food cravings. Well, I definitely was having poor concentration and food cravings. I took one yesterday with food, as they recommended. I got up at 1 AM and had a few crackers to hold me over. I had decided that I’d have a whole can of bean soup once I fully woke up. So once I did wake up, I reached for the can of soup, but then realized I wasn’t the least bit hungry. So I waited till just a little while ago, but by the time I ate half the soup, I felt stuffed! So, we’ll just have to see what happens.

I’m gonna try to keep up with the walking. It takes just over 5 minutes to play a tiles game while walking, so even if I play 5 games once an hour, it ought to do me good in keeping my stamina built up.

Later…

Just did a little singing for the second time since I’ve been up.

Ratsy really wanted out of his cage today and yesterday. He really likes coming out and being handled now a lot better than he did at first.

Blackie’s really getting healthier. When I’d pat his back, I could feel all the knobs of his spine, but now it’s covered. He’s filling out nicely.

I can’t cry over this one, but I haven’t seen White Paws in a couple of days. I wonder where the hell she could be. I never thought she’d disappear any more than I thought Mama Cat would, but we’ll see. I think she’ll show up soon enough.

Different family members are having their share of medical stuff to deal with. Mary and Evie are having gallbladder surgery, and Mary’s gonna have part of her thyroid removed. Mom’s still shaky and out of it, but there’s a new medication she’s gonna be trying that’ll hopefully help the tremors.

I don’t know if I ever mentioned Tom’s first wife Karen. They were married for two years when Tom was around 20. They were married in Bullhead City, AZ. Karen turned out to be a real nut and Tom said she wanted to divorce so she could be free to do more things alone. According to Tom, she didn’t want kids. If he did, though, then why’d he marry someone who didn’t?

Guess I’ll be chatting with Andy again sometime soon. We were talking about the scandal going down with the president the last time we spoke. I just don’t understand why the public is so shocked. They act as if they’ve never heard of such slutty behavior before. Hey, whores are a dime a dozen.

I typed up a few messages that I’ll leave, in different voices, on Michele’s machine after she leaves for work.

Later…

The blue car came and got the bitch just a few minutes ago. Bill’s car’s over there now, so I guess he’s gonna be here mistake-sitting all day.

As fate would have it, White Paws is alive and well and I just found her outside the door. This goes to prove Tom wrong, though, when he says she is too weak to hunt for herself. I hadn’t fed her in a few days, which was when I last saw her, yet she had to have eaten something since then, or else she’d be dead. She can fend for herself just fine.

God, that’s so fucking weird! It’s raining, thundering, and windy as all hell out there right now, yet the sun is shining brightly.

Later…

My period’s doing what it’s been doing for the last several months. About 4-5 days ago, I had a couple of days of spotting, but nothing since then. So, within the next few days, I’ll have a flow.

You know, I don’t really like the idea of Bill babysitting here. What’s to say that when the weather cools down that thing’s not gonna be out and about screaming its little black clown ass off? I’m sure I wouldn’t notice it for the most part, since I have the air cleaner on a lot or a fan to drown out the guard dogs, and it’s better than bass, but I still don’t like the idea of it. I’m gonna have enough screaming and ball games to listen to this winter as it is. Well, I’ll deal with next door as I see fit. Sometimes I think of propping the music room window open, both when I know they’re bopping around in their driveway, and in the middle of the night, and really letting them have it music-wise, but two things stop me from doing so. One is that I just can’t stoop myself as low as they are and provoke them for no reason like they’ve done to me. They haven’t caused any shit to deserve this in months, save for the usual door-slamming. The other reason is that I know it won’t bother them. In fact, they’d probably enjoy it.

Later…

I wish these next two days would come and go like yesterday! I’m dog-tired already, yet I have a long haul ahead of me. I want to stay up till at least 6:00.

Although the mineral pill is still keeping me from being ferociously hungry, and although I’m stuck, I am so bloated and so watery! Not even the water pill’s helping much, and I’ve got to be back to 124 pounds for sure or very close to it. I can tell you one thing for sure and that’s that I’ve got to be back in the 120s.

I’m waiting for the damn doctor’s office to call me back. Believe it or not, after a talk I had with Tom yesterday, I decided to finally go ahead and take the first steps towards getting tested, and whatever happens, happens. I’m waiting to hear if I should go directly to a GYN, or waste everyone’s time with repeated bloody PAPs at the regular office.

I still don’t want a child nor is it something I could ever handle, but I need to see instead of just suspect and believe how this whole thing will play out. Let’s see how accurate I am when I say they’ll either be able to find what’s wrong, but not be able to fix it, or they won’t be able to find what’s wrong. Let’s see how accurate I am about how uncooperative Tom will be, too. He swears he’ll support me and that he’ll “do his best.” He said to me, “Just because I may not be able to do what they suggest the instant they suggest it, doesn’t mean I’ve got some subconscious fear blocking me.” In other words, he’s already making excuses for what we both know he’s gonna do. If his not cumming isn’t in his psyche, then what else could it be? There’s no such physical problem as a guy who can get hard, but who can only cum once in a blue moon. As long as he can get hard, which is almost every time we screw, he can get off almost every time we screw, but if he doesn’t cooperate, I’m not gonna let that stop me from doing what I have to do. I want some answers if there are any for me at all and you know what else? I just may want to be fixed, if it were possible so I too, could have the choice that every woman should have. God certainly isn’t an equal-opportunity plumber, that’s for sure.

Later…

It’s almost hard to believe I’m still up. Between 10:00 and noon, I was dog-tired. Tom got in around noon, and we agreed I’d take a two-hour nap while he listened for the phone, but by then I couldn’t even nap. Well, I’d like to push it till 6:30 if I can. Then all I have to do is hope there are no storms.

I called at around 10 AM and asked the nurse to ask the doctor if she thought it best that I go directly to a GYN and explained why. I was told I’d be called back between 1:00 - 3:15. Gee, they’re really reliable, huh? Wonder if it’s a sign. Tom says if they don’t call, just make an appointment with a GYN, but I don’t know.

I walked 37 minutes today and it seemed to take no time at all. That’s because I broke it up and played 7 different tiles games once an hour. From now on, I’m going to try to walk/play at least 5 games a day, which will add up to about 30 minutes of walking. I’ll probably eat two TV dinners a day and snack on salad and popcorn in between.

Lisa called today. It was her that tried calling me a couple of days ago. She tried from school. She got suspended for being caught smoking. Back when I was in high school (the real one) they had a smoking area in an outside courtyard, but her high school doesn’t allow smoking anywhere.

Once again, I lectured her on the importance of doing well and following the rules so she can graduate and get out of there. But, as Tom says, teenagers don’t believe a thing grownups say. She’ll just have to live and learn.

She also cut herself after doing really well. I told her that we all have setbacks, but that each time she picked herself back up again, she’d stay up for longer.

Again, this cancer may not kill Bill (if it really ever existed), but he sure would literally die of relief if he knew just how lucky he is that I’m on the other side of the country. I haven’t wanted to kill anybody this bad in years! The sick fuck’s still badgering Lisa about her weight. I told her again to speak up and take a stand for herself. Let him know hey, you’re hurting me when you pick on me like that, and if you truly loved me, you’d see me for who I am and not what I look like. What? Does he think he’s Mr. Stud of the Year? Yeah, he probably does.

She says he scares her with his yelling at her but has kept his paws to himself lately. I told her not to worry about being yelled at, but that if he laid a hand on her, she should call the police.

She says he talks about me and it pisses her off. He’s been saying how weird and crazy I am, and like I told Lisa, it’s true to a degree and I’m proud of it.

You know, I just don’t get that sister of mine. According to Lisa, she’s on Lisa’s side one minute, Bill’s the next. Yeah, that’s my contradicting sister for you. But I mean, it’s like someone saying they hate chocolate, yet going out and buying a chocolate candy bar. How can any mother allow a guy like him to come within 50 yards of any of her kids? No court could stop me from putting my kids in danger like that if I had had kids. Even if Bill’s not hurting Lisa physically, he’s hurting her emotionally and he should be locked up, and if not, he should at the very least be forbidden to go near children. He should be doing jail time for all the times he’s hit and cut Lisa down, but if that can’t be, and it can’t be, then he should be ordered to stay away from her from here on out.

God, what are you doing up there? Where are you when people really need you? Some God you are. We can really count on you.

I asked Tom why he married Karen if he wanted kids and knew she didn’t. His answer was that it didn’t matter to him as much back then and that even though it matters more to him now, it’s not a life-or-death situation. He has preferences, but loves me and accepts me as I am. So, he’s saying that even though he wants a kid, he loves me enough to stay with me and not have one. Well, I know without a moment’s doubt that he’d have been a great father if we had had a kid, but I still believe that deep down, he doesn’t want a kid any more than I do, because just like me, he doesn’t want the hassles of it or his time sucked up by it. The only difference between us is that he could’ve handled it. I couldn’t have.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1998
The Benadryl ended up putting me out from 11 PM - 2 AM. Tom thinks I’ll make it to my appointment Thursday, but I don’t know. It’s cutting it really close. Maybe the nap will help to push my schedule around, but we’ll see.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1998
Unfuckingbelievable! I’m getting hungry again. Already?! Could there be something else going on with me that mimics hunger pangs? Why is it that some days I just cannot fill up? It seems like half the days no amount of food could satisfy me, but why? Why? Why? Why? Why must I always be fated to swap one problem for another? Can I ever be allowed by God to solve a problem and not get a new one in return for it?

Later…

I am officially off my diet now. No more going hungry all the time and eating barely 1000-1200 calories a day. I need more like 2000-3000 a day. I’m older now, so my metabolism and dietary needs have changed. I’m going to eat when I’m hungry and go back to eating what I want when I want, and I’ll let my weight go where it wants to go naturally.

I had Tom put the scale in the garage so I wouldn’t weigh myself so often. He thinks I’ll be less hungry if I don’t weigh myself so much. He thinks weighing myself a lot triggers a psychological response that enhances my hunger. He’s gonna look into simple, non-dairy diet plans, and appetite suppressants, because if there’s something that’ll allow me to continue on with eating healthy, then OK, as long as I’m not hungry all the time. If there’s something that’ll work for me without side effects, fine. That way I can eat healthily and maybe as an added bonus, I can keep my weight where it is. Remember, if I go into the 120s again, it’ll be hard to rock.

Someone tried to call collect today. The only one I can think of is Paula since Lisa’s been calling directly lately on some plan they’ve got.

I called to wish Sarah a happy birthday in the morning before everyone left. Lisa and Tammy get up at 6:00 and Becky and Sarah get up at 7:00. Tammy’s the last one to leave at 8:00.

Tammy’s fine. She’s still with Mark and happy. She, like Andy, asked if I’d talked to Mom and Dad. I gave them both the same answer - I’ll never talk to them again. It’s over. Period. Tammy hasn’t talked to them, either. We’ve both endured many years of being hurt by these people, that’s for sure.

I’ve come to conclude that these people may have never really even loved me. Just take how they’ve dealt with my sterility, for example. That alone tells me something about these people. Back when they knew I wanted a kid and couldn’t have one, they were so insensitive about it. They didn’t give a shit. They felt not one stitch of empathy for what I was going through and they even told me that they didn’t want to hear about it. No one who truly loves you and accepts you as you are treats you that way, whether they’re relatives or not. If having a kid was something that they felt I should have, then that would’ve been different. Only if it’s something they can relate to, that interests them, too, and that has something to offer them.

There’s only one real mom that I’ll always refer to as “mom” and that’s Tom’s mom. She loves me and accepts me as I am and she wants to hear about my bad times, as well as my good. She wants to hear about things that she can’t relate to and that don’t benefit her in any way, as well as just the opposite.

And speaking of that mom, Tom had to break up his sleep to take her to an appointment today that took forever. Mary couldn’t take her because she had her own appointment to go to. Tom says ma’s not doing well at all.

Here goes another fucking allergy attack. At first I was like - it fucking figures that this has to happen right before an appointment so I can’t take Benadryl, but then I said - fuck that shit. I’m taking Benadryl. I’m not gonna suffer from intermittent sneezing fits till I crash. I’m sick of this shit, you know? And once they start, they don’t stop. I have sneezing fits every half hour or so till I fall asleep. So, now I can forget about enjoying a burger and some fries in an hour when Tom gets up.

Today I didn’t just hear next door’s door-slamming spree, I saw it. I heard a door slam, then went and peeked out and saw the trunk and back doors open. I couldn’t see the front doors, though, because they were too deep into the carport.

I’d say that Bill didn’t watch the mistake today at the house. I’d say that the mistake went elsewhere for the day and that Bill brought home both mistake and bitch.

I saw both the bitch and Bill unload the car, and man is that bitch ugly! Great body, ugly face. The bitch took from the backseat what appeared to be the mistake’s shit. Bags for toys and diapers, although I think 3 years old is a little old for diapers. Isn’t it? I don’t know shit about kids, so I couldn’t tell you for sure. Then she slammed the door as if she was pissed. She’s always pissed. Always moving about in a mad, aggressive way. Then Bill, who moves awfully slow and makes me wonder how the hell he can have quick enough reflexes for driving, popped into view. In slow motion, he took a big box out of the trunk, but I couldn’t see what it was. Then the bitch came out and took a few plastic bags out of the trunk that was probably groceries. Then Bill did this. Then he was gone. What? Do they unload groceries and boxes daily? Is that what all the door slamming’s about (besides to piss me off)?

Speaking of things that piss me off - it’s coming up on 10 PM, and the fucking dogs are going off. They’ve been really, really bad the last couple of days.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 1998
Tom and I just screwed, but he was too tired to get on top. That’s OK. That happens sometimes.

I shouldn’t have bragged about how Caddy Kid hasn’t been around, because he’s back, although I don’t know for sure that it’s him. All I know is that someone banged by at 4:30 AM yesterday morning and at 11 PM last night.

Tom and I played with Ratsy on the bed a little while ago. He really likes Tom. Man, does he stink like hell, too!

Later…

Gonna cool down into the upper 90s by next weekend. Getting pretty pleasant for some ball games, huh Joely? Think you can have your gal pals and their mistakes come over and play for me? You know I can’t legally complain about that. I should be able to, though. No one should be allowed to have basketball hoops in their driveways when you’ve got a house as close as 3’ away from you.

For a minute just now, I missed my cigarettes. I miss having the vice, the act of smoking. Now, all I do is drink coffee and pop Tic-Tacs in my mouth. Although Tic-Tacs are only 1½ calories and I have about 50 of them a day, I suppose I should stop the tics. I will when I get the braces off. I’ll have them once a week or so then, then just chew gum. It’s too much of a hassle to chew gum except after eating because I have my braces waxed. So, I only chew gum when I go to take out the wax to eat or brush my teeth.

Tom left for work a couple of hours ago and good fucking riddance! It’s not that I don’t still love him and want to be with him forever, but I just get so sick of him and he tends to bore me at times. It’s nothing new, though - you can’t always communicate with the guy, he takes things the wrong way, instead of speaking up, he makes excuses, the sex has come to be totally boring and cumless for me as well, and I’m sick of having to compete with and live with that fucking TV!

He says he wants to spend time with me, but then why does he sit down in front of the TV instead? He denies this, but he watches hour after hour of TV, then complains he’s tired. Tom’s not a lazy man. He’s on his feet at work and he does a lot of errands but maybe if he walked on the treadmill himself instead of spending so much time just sitting, he’d have more energy to do more things around here. I thought computers were supposed to be his favorite thing. If that’s so, then why is he at the TV 80% of the time he’s here?

I asked him about trimming the tree out front and the hedges that he said he’d do weeks ago and what was his excuse? That he didn’t want to use electrical stuff if it was gonna rain. It was nowhere near raining today. What he really wanted to do was spend it sitting in front of the TV, but he didn’t want to say so, so he used rain as a lame excuse. To me, this is the same as lying and I don’t like it. He uses having to clear out his ma’s house as an excuse for not stopping to get a carry box for White Paws so we can take her to a shelter. But he wasn’t even doing his ma’s house this weekend. And he sure had time to pick up the new phone and mattress pad. As I told him, why not just come out and admit that he doesn’t want to get rid of that cat? He wants that cat, and he’d never admit this part, but I think he enjoys forcing it on me, too. Well, if he can say one thing and do another, so can I. I said I’d feed her. No more. If he wants her fed, he can feed her himself. I don’t make him take care of Ratsy, he doesn’t like rats, so why should I take care of his cat for him? Let him deal with her because I have my own cat I love and take care of. That we love and take care of because it’s a cat that we both want.

We both admitted we misunderstood each other about when he was to pick up orange juice and that it was OK if I took the water pill an hour before I had some orange juice, but then of course he just had to leave the bathroom sink faucet dripping which he knows I don’t like just to spite me. It’s so childish, too, but these are things I no longer confront him with because I know he’ll just deny it. That’s Tom for you - you don’t want to do something or admit to something - deny it. Just deny it. Or make excuses. Want to know what he’d say if I told him, I made comments saying he’s been cumming all along just to see if he’d be honest enough to admit that wasn’t true, but he went right along with me and that’s lying. You know what this bold, but very bad liar would say as a lying excuse? He’d tell me something like, “But you never gave me the chance.” Yes, Tom S would have the bold nerve to use such a lying, obvious, bullshit, lame excuse like that.

They say that if you can lie about one thing, you can lie about other things. I’ve never felt that there was a chance Tom would ever cheat on me. Most guys who were too afraid to get off with their wives would, but he has close to no sex drive at all, so he’s not missing anything with me. It’d be much more convenient for him to just take care of himself if he got that built up. And remember, he says he has wet dreams. It takes an awful lot to build this guy up, he can take care of himself, but what if I’m wrong? What if he’s getting it on with some young, thin, attractive thing that’s on birth control? What about Wendy (since looks really don’t matter all that much to him compared to most of us)? He’s the sanest, smartest, safest man around, but if he can lie and make excuses for the things he has, why not more things? Why not bigger things?

Well, I still doubt Tom S would cheat on me. Whores are a dime a dozen, but Tom S is one in a million. If he did take up with someone else occasionally, it’d be OK, it’s his body, so if it made him happy, OK. If he was a major slut who was stepping out on me left and right, that’d be different, but he’d have to die and come back a whole different person before he’d be that type.

I meant it when I said I was sick of the TV, too. I wake up to the TV, I eat to the TV, etc. Everything I do, I do to the sound of the TV and it gets really fucking old.

Unbelievably, I only have three more journals left to proofread.

Later…

It is so very dark outside right now. The sky’s moonless and cloudless.

The bitch is in bed next door. Gotta get up early. Tom said it was quiet today and that Bill was over there. What? Does this spoiled bitch not only have her poor dad mistake-sitting, but mistake-sitting when she goes out with her stuck-up girlfriends, too?

There are so many things my mind has accepted that are in the past. I’ve gotten over them and basically just put them in the past where they belong and gotten on with life. But it really bothers me that I can’t do that with my anger. It’s like I accept the fact that certain family members have wronged me and are not good people, but I can’t always let go of the anger that goes with all this. I’m not hurt, I’m not sorry, I’m not even regretful, I’m just angry. Not so much with family, as with other people, though. Mostly past and present neighbors.

For the first time in my 32 years, I’ve dealt with my parents and brother the proper way and the way I should’ve years ago. I spoke out and up to these people, then I let them go. So my anger’s been fused for the most part with them. It’s the people I never dealt with correctly that are pissing me off.

Take that bitch next door for example. I never should’ve let her get one word out to me. She had nothing to say to me. Nothing that could benefit the situation. I should’ve grabbed that bitch, clamped a hand to her mouth, and given her three ultimatums. To either walk away peacefully and get rid of the dog and music. Or to walk away peacefully and not get rid of the dog and music and have me get her evicted, or at least rid of the dog and music. Or to say another word and get her ass kicked by me right then and there. She was the problem. She and her boy toy. I did nothing wrong. How dare she come to this door telling me to shut up when it’s she and her associates that have disrupted my life. I don’t know why I let her scream at me. Maybe I was subconsciously afraid that if I did beat her ass she’d have someone come and shoot me and poor Tom, too. Well, lucky for her if she never comes to this door again, because she wouldn’t get a word out of that fat black mouth of hers, and you know what? There’d be no words coming out of my mouth, either. I’d just do what I had to do.

I think back to people like Mary D and ask myself why I didn’t push to fight harder. Why didn’t I try harder to fight her better? Why didn’t I set Hank’s ass straight the moment he stepped out of line on me? Why didn’t I fix his poor drunk ass? He was getting up there in age. I could’ve set him easily straight. Now because I didn’t, I’m left with the anger of what I didn’t finish and of what I didn’t do that I should’ve done. Maybe some other 21-year-old girl, who’s the naïve little sucker I was, is having to listen to his mouth. Maybe this girl wouldn’t have to put up with him if I’d dealt with him, because maybe if I had taken care of him, he’d now be too afraid to step out of line again.

I can think of a lot of people that pushed me around and it really angers me, infuriates me, to know that I never even tried to set these people straight. Yes, some of them would’ve kicked my ass and hurt me for it, but in a sense, it would’ve been worth it, because I would’ve at least tried to get them off my ass in the first place. Not all of these people could’ve hurt me if I’d nailed their asses. Most of them would’ve been no match for me and most of them would not have friends that would’ve shot me for it, either.

Barbara, at the NHA, had a lot of sick friends. Her sick friends would probably have gang-beaten me if I had done anything to Barbara, but maybe they wouldn’t have. Maybe Barbara would’ve kicked my ass if I tried to lay a hand on her, maybe not. I never even tried. I could never have known for sure what would’ve happened because I never even tried. There are some things we know in advance, then there are some things that we just can’t know for sure, till we do it.

OK, it’s just past 10:30 here, so why are the dogs barking? One of them is. Yes, one’s worse than the other. Again, how can this bitch sleep through that?! That dog is right outside her bedroom window for God’s sake! If she stuck her arm out the window, she could practically reach out and touch the fucking dog. She can sleep through this shit, though.

Andy gave me Michelle’s number and said she likes Mary and all those computer voices, so I can feel free to leave her messages with those voices. She’ll be out during regular business hours. My schedule’s a little off for that right now, but as soon as I’m up when she’s at work, I’ll leave her a few messages.

Later…

Where oh where is this ferocious appetite coming from?! I’ve been up for just six hours and since then I’ve had a TV dinner and a can of bean soup, and I’m still starving. Fuck! Is there ever an end to all this fucking hunger? I swear, it’s either be fat and full, or thin and hungry. Although technically, I’m far from thin. Maybe I should’ve just stayed on the cigarettes and not changed my eating habits. Here I am eating healthier and less than I have in a long time, and I gave up my 220-calorie granola bars, but yet I’m a blimp. If I could get my hands on an appetite suppressant that works and that wouldn’t cause me to wake up just a few hours after falling asleep, then maybe I could discipline myself and stick to this diet better, but since I’ve got this constant hunger, I can’t. There’s no in-between here and there’s no being thin and not hungry all time. Not anymore there isn’t. I need to eat at least once an hour, and I need solid foods. Not foods that are like air like popcorn and salad which don’t do shit for me and which leave me starving. I’m seriously contemplating eating when I’m hungry and letting myself get as fat as I’m going to get.

Later…

Just had a hot dog and now I’m making another TV dinner. I’m up to 118 pounds, too, but you know what? I don’t give a shit. I just don’t give a shit anymore. All this slavery over just a few pounds lost? Fuck that shit!

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1998
Shit! It’s the weekend. What else is new? At least I get more time with Tom. So, weekends are both good and bad.

Just caught Marla online and said hello. She said she’s tired, as usual, but will be in touch. The poor woman has no life between her boys and her job. Never even got the chance to tell me about jury duty.

I had Tom pick me up something new at the grocery store today. Feminine spray instead of powder. The spray is easier to use and it works really well so far at keeping me dry.

I wonder how Lisa’s doing. Hope we can chat soon. Also, hope Tammy’s not using her too much. As Lisa herself said, she doesn’t mind helping her mom out when she goes to work or to be with Mark by cleaning and babysitting, but sometimes her mom really uses her to be her housekeeper/babysitter. She used to do the same thing to me when we lived in Longmeadow. Especially with the housekeeping.

Later…

Tom picked up a few new things today. A skinny microphone on a stand that’s about 10” high in case we want to record whatever. A new mattress pad that may bunch up just as much as the other one does. And a new speakerphone with Caller ID built into it for the back room.

Soon I’m gonna get on with the last of my proofreading. I started up with that again last night and had Mary read to me.

I also condensed the backup floppy disks of my journals and a few other doc files. Instead of having, for example, a disk for all the Oswego Street journals, a disk for all the Woodside Terrace journals, a disk for all the Elm Street journals, and a disk for the Norwich journals, I put them all on one disk and now I have an “east” floppy. I pretty much cut my disks in half and have six disks now.

I think another thing I might do tonight is redo my color themes. I wasn’t happy with the way they came out the last time. Tom’s only making a screensaver and wallpaper changer. Not color theme changers, but that’s OK. I can set the themes myself and change them weekly.

Our lisping freeloader bitch that pronounces the word music as “muthic” has been a good girl today. Most of that was according to Tom since I didn’t get up till 4 PM.

I have mixed emotions about that security light being dead. Can’t believe she didn’t replace that bulb yet! It’s obnoxious as all hell when I’m trying to relax to music. I like to listen to music in the dark. It’s more relaxing that way. There’s nothing I can do about daylight, but I hated it when it’d be nice and peacefully dark at night, then that fucking thing would blare on every other 5 minutes. On the other hand, when someone would come or go at night, it’d let me see the car better since it’s activated by motion.

Been lucky in the shit department. I shit three days in a row. Lucky me.

It’s really beginning to make its transition from summer to fall here (of course our falls and springs don’t last long at all here). The pool is starting to cool down and the bees are starting to die off.

Later…

Maybe being bad once a week and having a cheeseburger and fries on Saturdays isn’t such a good idea. At the end of my day yesterday, right before I had the burger and fries, I was 115 pounds. I would’ve been 117 pounds if I hadn’t shit. Today, though, it’s not quite the end of my day, I’ve shit, and am 117 pounds. But I do deserve a break and a treat once a week, so I’ll probably keep treating myself once a week. I love how it kept me full for hours. When I’m dieting, though, right after I eat my salad, or my measly TV dinner, or toast, or popcorn, I’m still starving and if I’m satisfied, it’s only for an hour.

I had some spots earlier. What? Am I in for another early period? It isn’t due for another week.

I tested out the new phone and called Andy and oh my God! On and on and on he went. I couldn’t even get a word in edgewise, and when I could, he’d cut me off. Never was he like this back east. He was so quiet. I’d always feel like I was rambling on and on while he was quiet. He was quiet because he was uncomfortable with my rambling. Especially since my rambling back then was about what his rambling today is about. He had the same problems back then - he was broke, sexless, loveless, etc., but back then he didn’t really bitch about it and all hell would break loose if you did. Now, though, he’s more tolerant of listening to people’s troubles and he sure is a major talker. Still, I listen to Andy bitch, and as I told him, I’ll listen to him all he needs to bitch because I know what it’s like. At least he has someone to bitch to. Back when I always had something to bitch about, I didn’t have that. Not for the most part, anyway. No one wanted to hear it, or no one was there at all that I could turn to in the first place. I was on my own. All alone. My therapist was pretty much the only one who listened to me.

Anyway, I told him that now that we have Caller ID in the back room and the living room, he can just go ahead and call anytime, any day. This way, it won’t be such a hassle if I’m busy in the back room and don’t want to be bothered but can still see who it is. I also told him that the same rule would apply, though. Most of the time I’ll either be asleep or just not in the mood to talk. I’ll still chat live with him about once a week.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1998
No blue car visiting the bitch last night.

I’m doing some laundry right now, then it’s off to shower, wash my hair, and shave.

Tom crashed a little while ago and plans to get up towards the middle of my day (I got up at 3 PM) so we can have our Friday fun.

Later…

Blue car’s visiting the bitch right now.

Boy, am I gonna have to make up for the peace I’ve had over the last several months. Not even Caddy Kid has been by in a while. I don’t have any bad vibes in particular for the winter, but I know how it works with me and with most people; we must be compensated and we must pay for life’s blessings. If there’s no trouble with music and I don’t have to have them evicted, then I expect there’ll at least be several ball games. The neighborhood kids, including the Lopez’s, will play ball regularly. I’m sure that on weekends, the bitch’s gal pals will bring their mistakes over to play for me, too. I’m sure these mistakes will want to play ball on their own, but I’m also sure that they’ll be coaxed into it, too.

Thank God this bitch can’t have a pool put in.

Speaking of our infamous bitch, it just left in the blue car, but I couldn’t see who the driver was because I didn’t want to be seen. The bitch looked right at me, too. And that’s not the first time, she seemed to be looking right at me, either. It’s more like the third or fourth. At first I said to myself, I don’t care if they see me. I have a right to look at my window at anything I want, but then I said, nah. The purpose of spying is to be undercover. Also, if they saw you, then did something to the house for it, you know you’ll go over there and beat them beyond recognition, and you don’t need to go to jail or put yourself or Tom through any stress. Remember, these people are crazy. And if I did anything to them, no matter how much they deserved it, these sick fucks could gun me down. There’d be no defending myself against bullets.

This bitch really gets around, huh? So what will its weekend company be this time around? The dark blue car? The light blue car? The white car? Oh, definitely the white car. It seems to be the most prominent visitor around lately. Will it be cool enough for the mistakes to play ball? I kind of think it could be 120º and they’d still play ball if they really wanted to.

Later…

Haven’t seen Mama Cat around in ages. I don’t miss her, either. Daddy Cat still comes around here and there. It’s getting hard to tell Blackie and daddy cat apart, but daddy cat has long fur.

Woke up at 113 pounds Wednesday, 114 pounds yesterday, and 113 pounds today. At the end of the day, I jump up as high as 117 pounds. I knew I would, though, because weighing under 115 pounds is still new and completely foreign to my body. Guess I was right when I foresaw 118 pounds becoming a thing of the past. Not that I may not get up to that a few more times before I sink even lower. And remember, Vegas is gonna set me back. If I go to Vegas at 115 pounds, I can count on coming back at 120-124 pounds. My measurements just don’t go with my weight. At 115 pounds, I have a 29” waist, yet when I was around this same weight in 1986 I had a 26” waist. You definitely don’t look the same at certain weights at different ages. If I ever got back down to 100 pounds again, I wouldn’t look like I did the last time I weighed 100 pounds. I’d be an inch or two bigger.

Later…

I was watching a case of incest on Trial Story on Court TV. There were two daughters and one stepson charging their father with raping them 20 years earlier. The father ended up convicted. It was a jury of six women, though. Had it been men, he’d have gotten off.

I could sort of relate to what the victims were saying, even though the abuse I went through was emotional and physical. You can’t ever have your childhood back and you can never forget. Two of these three victims still love their father, too. How do I feel about my folks? Nothing. Just dead nothing. No love, no like, no hate. Like these victims said - they’re a closed chapter in my life. They were people I once knew, I had many more bad times with them than good, and now they’re in my past and I’m getting on with life.

I feel bad for these people, though. Just like with me, their childhood has affected their adult life, and when it’s not, you’re so busy struggling and working hard to keep it from affecting your adult life.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1998
I don’t believe it. Bill actually got in his car, shut the door once, then left. No 15-minute door-slamming spree leading up to the big leave. Meanwhile, the cock’s on the street. Just brought its bitch back, and if things go as they did the last couple of evenings, the dark blue car will be here to visit the bitch for a few hours.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1998
Last early evening, we noticed that dark blue car parked next door as we were on our way out to pick up some videos. On our way back we went by their place and they had their front door open. God, these freeloaders really don’t mind the heat, huh? Bet they never run the AC. Bet they have the cooler on even when it’s humid out. Anyway, I thought I could make out an adult male blackie and a male child blackie of about 8 years of age sitting on a couch that faces their front door. Our front door faces the street. Theirs faces away from our house. You can’t see it from the street. It’s sideways.

The blue car’s here again tonight.

The original freeloader cock’s gray car was parked on the street earlier. Guess instead of bringing the mistake to daycare, or taking care of it all day itself, the cock now brings its bitch back at the end of the day.

You know, I’m surprised this bitch doesn’t have her own car. I mean, why not? She’s broken just about every other rule there is when it comes to welfare/subsidized.

The door slamming earlier was just like old times. I don’t know what the fuck Bill’s doing and why he has to slam a door every 5 minutes for 15 minutes upon coming and going, but it’s pissing me off. It’s really pissing me off.

Later…

Boy, this is a long visit from the blue car. I can tell when a car comes/goes from the freeloaders when listening to music at night. The headlights shine in in a way that I know is next door and not a car going down the street.

It’s taking an effort to push myself to write. I have a slight cold. It’s about the mildest cold I’ve ever had, though, and most of the time I’m not even aware of it. Tom’s going through the same thing right now. No wonder I’ve been sluggish. I had to have two meals yesterday and today to help boost my energy. I feel it in my voice too, and my voice doesn’t seem to be able to go below a middle E. My music sounds funny, too.

Unbelievably, there were no unavailable calls yesterday. There was only one today, but they hung up as soon as I picked up.

Typed up letters to Tammy and the girls. Yeah, I send them letters every now and then, since they don’t seem to want to do letters electronically.

Got 5 videos yesterday. Didn’t see that gorgeous girl there this time. Three of the movies I liked, one I didn’t, and one I discovered I’ve seen already.

Now for my best news of all. I woke up at 113 pounds!!

Later…

The wind chimes are so pretty when it’s windy.

Shortly after 9:00, the blue car left.

When I was chasing White Paws to the side of the house, I noticed something. There was a block wall in a part of the garage that Tom took down. He put the blocks at the side of the house. I noticed that about 5 of them were broken. There were broken pieces of these blocks. I wonder - could it be the freeloader’s doing? Well, if it is, more power to them. What the fuck do we care about some lousy bricks? Ain’t no loss to us.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1998
I’m kind of tired today. I don’t think I slept quite 8 hours, but I’ll live.

When I got up at 9 AM, I found Tom asleep on the couch. I sent him into bed and on his way there, he said he left me a message explaining why he slept on the couch. He said that after my having a stressful day yesterday not knowing what to expect from next door, and since he’s really tired and will probably snore like hell, he’d give us a break while we were doing so well and sleep on the couch. That’s fine, as long as he doesn’t decide for me too much. I can decide what’d be best for me just fine. I want him to worry about himself more often.

Bill’s next door babysitting the mistake.

I made the window that this word processor is in smaller, so I can see the wallpaper changing behind it. It’s pretty cool.

I guess Tom and I are gonna go to the video store later. I don’t know for sure.

Some skanky Mexicans are doing the freeloaders’ yard and the yard across the street.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking of this fertility testing thing and all that. No, I do not want a child by any means as I used to. And it’s not so much the curiosity that’s an issue for me, either. It’s the right to choose that’s the issue. It’s kind of like the way I see abortion. First and foremost, people should be responsible and use birth control if they don’t want a kid or aren’t suitable for handling one, but since they don’t, at least a woman has a right to choose. It’s her body, her life.

I should’ve been born with just as much right as any other woman, but no, I never was born with a full bag of rights now, was I? It should’ve been up to me to say yes to a child like I would’ve been foolish enough to when I first met Tom up till about a year ago. And now it should be my right to say, nah. I don’t want a child. I like life too much and it’s something I could never handle. So, what kind of birth control should I use? The rhythm method? The rhythm method with rubbers used during mid-cycle? Rubbers all the time? Pills? IUDs? An injection?

Yes, it’s nice having a built-in, hassle-free birth control system, but still, it’s taking away my right to choose. I’ve been telling myself I don’t deserve the right to choose, because if I did, God would’ve given it to me in the first place, but that’s not true! That’s just not true! Yes, he feels I shouldn’t have the right to choose because he obviously doesn’t trust what my decision would’ve been a year ago, and yes, he’s looking out for me, but I am no less deserving than any other woman out there. I did nothing wrong to deserve to not have a right to choose just like any other woman. I do deserve to exercise my full rights as a woman. As a human being. If I had kicked some woman in the stomach and sterilized her and taken away her right to choose, then yes, I should have mine taken away too. If I had killed a child, then you bet I should be stripped of my reproduction rights, and I’d totally deserve it.

I try to tell myself, God was just doing the right thing and looking out for you by taking away your right to choose, because you know you’d have let yourself conceive if you could’ve, and therefore, you’d have gotten yourself into something you don’t have the physical or mental strength to endure, and you’d have either ended up dead or in jail for killing the poor, innocent child.

It’s not that easy, though. It’s just not that easy. Whether or not I choose to get into something I can or can’t handle should be my choice. Not God’s. It’s my problem if I bite off more than I can chew. I’m sick and tired of having God, fate, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, decide almost everything for me. Don’t I have some say in my destiny? First I couldn’t be the singer I wanted to be, then I couldn’t have the woman I wanted, then I couldn’t be a mother. Can Jodi be anything Jodi says she wants to be? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of the unplanned surprises I’ve received in my life have been wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them in for the world, but when does Jodi get to pick her destiny? See, I’m OK with not being able to move right now as much as we’d both love to. That’s because I know the choice is ours. We can choose to move, we have chosen to move, and when we can, we will move. If God fixed it so we had no choice but to stay in this house forever, then I’d be pissed. That would be wrong of him.

I guess it’s just a matter of opinion and where we each stand as individuals on different people and different situations. It’s easy to sit and listen to an infertile woman, regardless of her marital status or her financial status, that’s stable and able to handle a child, bitch about how she never got the right to choose, and that if having a kid was a mistake, it would’ve and should’ve been hers to make. But it’s not so easy to sit and listen to a 14-year-old who just had a kid say, hey! I made a mistake, but it was mine to make. That’s just not acceptable. It doesn’t cut it.

It’s not so much that I fear something up there would get me for going against its decision that I be sterile by going to a fertility clinic. It’s Tom. He’s just gonna keep on going along with my statements as to how normal our sex is, and he’s gonna both consciously and subconsciously fuck things up for me if I were to literally get off my ass and go try to seek some answers/rights. Normal? Our sex isn’t normal. It’s improved and I like it just fine the way it is, but even so, it’s not normal. We’re still managing to screw twice a week with him going inside me with no resistance, which is all good and normal, but he hasn’t cum in ages and I doubt he ever will again. Now, he’s welcome to never cum again if that’d make him happy, but that’s still not normal.

Maybe his refusal to cum wouldn’t be an issue, but I don’t know for sure. If they just started by testing me and found that the problem truly was with me, then he wouldn’t need testing, not that he would’ve gladly handed over a squirt of his cum in the first place. If they wanted to test us both at once, then I’m the only one they could test, since he wouldn’t cooperate. I asked him a long time ago and he says he would cooperate, but I’ve heard him say one thing and then do another enough times to know better.

Something tells me to keep my mouth shut, though. I don’t know why. I just know that at least for now, I must never make it known to Tom that I know he really hasn’t cum. Again, I don’t know why. It’s just instinct. I’m also curious to see how far he’ll take this lying about the cumming, too. I suppose it should worry me and make me wonder what else he could lie about, but it doesn’t. In his mind, he doesn’t need to lie about anything else, although if Kim came to visit, he’d have that jealousy all over again, and would lie and try to convince me that we ruined his life, made him oh so miserable, and nearly killed him.

The good thing about all this is, is that it’s not gonna affect my life in any bad way, hold me back, or keep me bitter forever. I’m very happy with my life despite my lack of right to choose and all that. I love my life and look forward to spending the rest of it with my husband and moving. I’ll probably never be thin again and we’ll probably never have an above-average income, but as long as we’re healthy and happy, that’s what counts. I thank God, or whatever may have had a part in the fact that I’ve never been more content with my life than I am now. I don’t miss the fits of rage that used to eat at me, nor do I miss the crying spells I went through. I hope to hell I never return to wanting a kid. That was really depressing, wanting something natural like that that I could never have.

Anyway, if I were to look at the whole thing from a rational, logical, realistic, practical point of view, I should forget about seeing any doctor about my so-called right to choose. There is no right to choose for me. I know they’d either not be able to tell me what was wrong, or that they’d tell me I was unfixable. I know I cannot be fixed. The purpose of being predestined to sterility is so you can never be fixed. The choice was taken away from me before I was even born.

Woke up at the usual 115 pounds, although Saturday’s treat and yesterday’s 400-calorie slice of pound cake, did catch up to me. I weighed 118½ pounds, but then after a water pill, I was 117 pounds, then 115 pounds when I got up. I’m gonna gain soooooo much weight in Vegas!

I finally shot some pictures of Ratsy. I hope they come out good.

From what it looks like after I just did a check, Tom hasn’t cum since around April 1st. Damn! That’s a long time. But actually, he has cum. Just not by me. Well, he knows I’m serious about not wanting a kid (along with the fears he’s always had) and won’t take any chances no matter how sure he is that I’m sterile. What a man, though! How many women could get such a wonderful man like that? One who’s willing to make such a sacrifice for her, and who could still be happy? I know he’ll never stray. He’ll always love me and me only, and if sacrificing orgasms for me is what he feels he should do, he’ll do it. He’d jump off a bridge for me, he loves me that much. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, either, if I could.

Later…

Just got done relieving myself with a nice stimulating, yet relaxing orgasm with my vibrator. Yeah, my appetite’s come back. Tom’s not the only one that’s not getting off when we screw. He just can’t be available to get me off the 2-3 times a day I need to get off, and he can’t get me off in the way that I can. I know it sounds mean, but right now, I feel as if I may never get off again with him. There’s just no thrill in it for me anymore, as much as I love him. I wonder if his not getting off goes beyond pregnancy fears. He’s said otherwise, but could he really be sick of me and not turned on by me anymore? I don’t look like I did when we first met, yet he swears to be just as attracted to me. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter because he said that sex is a mental thing for him and that he’s not turned on by what he sees with his eyes.

I dig what someone said in a movie I saw last night. They said, “Sometimes sex is better with people in your head, than with people in your bed.”

I think this is true!

I can’t believe this. How utterly great. It’s already just past 4:00 and no unavailable calls. Maybe letting them have it was the answer after all. At first, it made them all the more determined to get at me, not surprisingly, but maybe they got sick of being told off and maybe they’ll fuck off at least if only for a while.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1998
Although my vibe isn’t that bad right now, it’s still a bit early. If the freeloaders are gonna party, it’s gonna be closer towards the middle or late afternoon.

Later…

So far so good. My guess is that no one’s home right now. If she’d been home all day, then there’d have been a million cars coming and going all day. Probably to deliver the bitch’s drugs to her. It’s still early, though, and plenty of partying time left. Last year, they didn’t start their antics till 6:30 and they didn’t quit till 9:30.

Later…

I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it! Miss Bitch was a good girl. Not a peep from over there. I was right about her being out all day. Bill brought her in around 5:00, and it’s been quiet ever since. Is it compliments of the cock being out of the picture that called for their first quiet Labor Day here? Or the city letters? Something else? Personally, I think it’s because the cock’s not around. They know they can party and annoy me in ways I couldn’t complain about. I can’t complain about ballgames and door slams.

That I know of, there’s only been music 3 different times, each for no more than a few minutes, since May 30th, and no parties since Easter.

Tom says there’s a new dumpster out back in its usual spot. That’s nice. This usual spot is just over the wall beyond the pool. Before, when it was gone, you had to walk either two houses left or right to get to a dumpster.

I love the proposal Tom made to me earlier. I don’t know if he’s serious, but we just might set up a little surveillance camera and train it on the freeloader’s driveway. He has an old black and white camera and said he can drill a little hole in the outside storage room and put it there. That’d be cool, but like I said, who knows if he’ll really do it?

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1998
Again we slept together. I think he might’ve woken me up once when I was just knocking off, but so far, it’s going great. What did wake me up was the thunder from the storm at 7:30 this morning. As Tom pointed out, it’s making its transition from monsoon storms to fall storms, which are slower-moving, and come at any time during the day/night. Why couldn’t it pour viciously from about 2 PM on Monday, till about 9 PM?! Not a chance. Not a chance.

Congrats to the bitch next door! It actually went somewhere else two days in a row. It amazingly didn’t get back till approx. 10 PM last night. Can it do it again today and tomorrow? No chance, unfortunately. Well bitch, how bad do you want to stay here?

Anyway, today’s one of those yucky, dreary, damp days where you just want to stay in bed, but it’ll dry up and the sun will be out come prime bitch time this early afternoon.

Got two questions and one favor asked by Andy this last week. I already told you that he wanted me to teach him to type, but he’s gonna use the college typewriter. A few days ago he asked me how to ask, “What is your address?” in Spanish, which I told him. This time, he wanted to know how to ask are you cut? and are you uncut? As I told him, I don’t know slang. Even if I knew the word for cut, which I didn’t off the top of my head, they still may not know what the hell he’s saying.

How can Michelle afford to be so big? This I don’t get. It takes a tremendous amount of food to blow a body up like that. On the other hand, it wouldn’t take much food for me to get big. Not that big, though. It wouldn’t even take the average daily food intake to put me between the mid-120s - 150s. And this girl is no 150-pounder. She’s more like 250 pounds. So, when she had to move out of Andy’s because she was all broke, how was she affording to feed herself so much? You have to eat huge quantities all day and night long to get that big.

Andy’s told me that Laura has her own little built-in birth control system too, and we were talking about how many people don’t feel it’ll happen to them. Yeah, I know there have been couples who tried for years to conceive and couldn’t, then one day they did, but that really does only happen to other couples in my case, and in some women’s cases, thank God.

Later…

As I knew it would, the weather’s drying up nicely and the sun’s poking through.

The first of many vehicles just made it in next door. All I heard was one car door, then I looked out and saw a white car pulling out. Is the bitch in this car? Or did the white car just come to see the bitch? If the bitch has gone out, when will it be back? How many more cars are gonna show up over there today?

Woke up at 115 pounds, but today I’m gonna take a day off from the slavery that goes into keeping my weight at 115-117 pounds to have some KFC.

Later…

Right after I said the sun was poking through, it clouded up again, rained a bit, and thundered loudly for a while again. Guess it’s been cloudy all day.

At noon Tom went to Jack-n-the-Box for us both. I decided that once a week I’d be bad, so I had a cheeseburger, a large order of fries, and a cappuccino milkshake. Here’s the shocking part - I only gained half a pound from it! A half a pound! I thought this treat would put me up to 120 pounds for sure, rather than the usual 117 pounds I seem to end up at lately.

Not too long after I ate, I crashed till 4:00. When I got up, two recliners were here. Mary and Dave brought over two recliners. One’s got a massager in it like the living room one does, the other doesn’t. The massage one’s in the bedroom, the other’s in the music room. I didn’t see Mary and Dave, though. They just dropped the chairs off out back.

Pleasantly enough, there’s been no shit from the freeloader. Tom said the bitch has got her recycle bin out in the middle of the carport. Neither of us has seen any more vehicles come or go since I said I saw that white car just before 11:00 this morning. Now hopefully she can stay out till tonight, then do it all again tomorrow, but fat chance.

Yes, very fat chance, because guess what? It’s back now. The same white car that I saw earlier is there, but I don’t have a party vibe for tonight. What do I vibe for tomorrow? It’s weird because I have both a negative vibe, but then I don’t. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens, but tonight should be clear. It’s cloudy and it’s thundering again. If they’re that determined to party, they will, and storms won’t stop them, but I think they prefer it to be hot and sunny. Anyway, I wouldn’t put it past that bitch to party tomorrow, because even though the cock’s not living there right now, she’s partied every Labor Day she’s been here, but like I said before, she didn’t have city complaints either. So, I guess if you really think about it, tomorrow could go either way.

Later…

The white car’s doing what all cars next door love to do - slamming its doors periodically but not going anywhere. When I peeked out, I saw the bitch, then I saw the animal running in circles around the driveway and screaming. That thing looks like such a freak. I mean a total clown! Its hair is done up in braids. Sort of like Bo Derek, only a pitiful version of that. I’d be so embarrassed if I were that kid.

Looks like the white car’s left now.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1998
Well, our little freeloaders haven’t been downright naughty yet, but they’ve been annoying. And by the way, it’s our one-year anniversary since we had our little immature screaming match on my doorstep, too.

First of all, the bitch actually went somewhere else last night and today. Does she have to make such a door-slamming spectacle of it, though? Of course! The bitch got in last night at 11:30 and I saw two people head into the house for the night. Was this other person the teenage boy?

At around noon, the first of the door-slamming pals came. I guess something’s going on between her and her cronies somewhere. There were 2 or 3 cars here earlier. Can you believe that many cars came to pick up this bitch? An 8-10-year-old black boy started to play ball, but to my utter amazement, it only played for a sec. At first I thought, well, well, she does have to work Monday, so she’s having her party today. Then all the cars left.

At 1:15 I heard bass for about two minutes, and I swear! I’m gonna blast these mother-fuckers right back if this wasn’t just one of the occasional outbursts they’ve been having these days. It was a dark car that we’d never seen before. Tom thinks it was someone new in the group that came to see if she’d left yet. Well, this bitch better break the new kid on the block in on the rules around here real damn fast, or she’ll be sorry. Anyway, the dark car was only here for a couple of minutes. Tom says it’s no doubt someone new and she’s not there to know about the music. Well, this is only the third music outburst in months, I’ll admit, but it better be a very rare occurrence if they want to stay here.

It’s gonna be a door-slamming nightmare around here when they get back, and God only knows what music and ball games I’m in for. We’re talking 3-5 carloads of this bitch’s associates and their kids. If they’re coming and going like this on a Saturday, Monday’s gonna be hell. Let it be, though, because that’s all the more hell it’s gonna be for them. If they give me 10% hell, I’ll give them 100% hell back. Trust me.

The problem with these sick fucks is that they can slam doors, but not go anywhere. Can these people ever just get in a car and leave? Do they have to make such a door-slamming spectacle out of it first? Well, of course they do. Anything to be heard and noticed by me.

Later…

The 5 carloads of freeloaders haven’t returned yet. With my luck, they’ll come in while there’s still enough light out for ball games. I kind of feel them coming in at around 3:00 - 4:00.

Tom says it’s common out west for several relatives/friends to go to a house in several cars. He says out west, more people have cars because it’s spread out here. In the East, things are more centralized. I’d still like to know why it took 5 cars to come and get that bitch. Can’t just one car pull up, then can’t the bitch just open the door once, then get in, close the door, then leave?

Tom’s now at Ma’s house doing some tree trimming.

As a surprise (ma doesn’t know it yet) Johnny’s gonna be getting her one of those recliners that tilt to help people who can’t get up so easily. Guess we’re gonna be getting her old recliner. Another massage one like the one we have in the living room. I’ll throw it in the bedroom. God only knows there’s plenty of room in that big bedroom.

As for some better news, Tom came into bed after I was asleep and got up before I woke up and I never felt or heard a thing!

Later…

Wow! It’s 6:15 and the freeloaders aren’t back yet. Yeah well, stay out another hour or so, you stupid fucks, because then it’ll be rather difficult to see to shoot baskets in the dark.

Later…

Still not back yet. How shocking.

I went to bed at 115 pounds last night and woke up at 115 pounds, too. Now, I haven’t woken up at the same weight I went to bed at in ages. Yup. Something doesn’t want me under 115 pounds. Well, if this is it, and if I’m gonna bounce between 115-117 pounds for a while - fine. Although, Vegas is gonna put me back into the mid-120s. The question is, though, will it take me 8-9 months to get back to where I’m at now? What’s also helping to keep my weight between 115-117 pounds, of course, is the shitting only every other day. At least I’m regular, if not as frequently as I’d like.

Tom brought out the old, big washer and we washed the comforter. I’ll do it again around the New Year. Every 3 months I try to do it.

I’ve had fun testing out the new wallpaper changer program he wrote. So far, so good. I’ve got a mix of family pictures, journal covers, and pictures of Gloria and Norah.

Tom surprised me with yesterday’s sex. He did and he didn’t. I was surprised he let himself in there, but not surprised he didn’t cum. He seemed to be really close, though, then it seemed the room temperature went up 20º. He was sweating like hell. Unless he felt the need to act and act very well, I think he might’ve let go in cooler circumstances.

I’ve played Gloria’s new CD and have gotten to know more of it. Some songs kind of grow on me. Now there’s a total of 3 songs I like on Gloria’s new CD, but a total of 5 tracks I play. A couple of the songs have remixes of the same songs on other tracks. I like Don’t Release Me, and I Just Wanna Be Happy, but Feelin’ is my favorite. There’s a Spanish ballad I’d like to learn so I can sing it. Some of her songs aren’t great, but it’s how good they sound on my stereo! She uses state-of-the-art equipment, too, but my God! I could never imagine going back to my old stereo. I always used to say that as long as I could hear my music, and hear it loud, sound quality was not so important, but it is now.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1998
The sun’s finally poking out. When I got up at 9:00, it was drizzling and very cloudy. The pool temp has really gone down. Hopefully, this notorious bee season is just about over. There are bees all year round here, but not like in the summer.

I think I may have found horoscopes to finish off journal 159 with that aren’t so work-related.

Woke up at 115 pounds, and shit twice. What? Am I gonna shit twice every other day, instead of once a day? Anyway, I’ll be between 115-118 pounds indefinitely.

Later…

Fuck! It’s gonna warm up and dry up over the holiday weekend. The weather will be perfect for a certain pack of assholes to make fools of themselves. It doesn’t matter, though. Even if it were pouring out, they’d still do their shit on Monday. Storms wouldn’t even stop them.

Later…

I just realized something. This is a serious long shot, but whatever it is that that bitch is doing during the weekdays, is something it wasn’t doing a year ago. So maybe, just maybe, she’s one of the ones that have to work on Labor Day. I highly doubt it, though, and even if she did, she gets home at 4:00-5:00. That still leaves a few good hours for partying. Even if she had to be gone from Monday morning to late Monday night, she’d just move her little party to Saturday or Sunday.

Later…

Tom just got in and we bought a couple of pay-per-view movies off the Direct TV.

I also had him put the handle back on the music room window. These old, shitty windows don’t slide up and down. You wind the handle to push them outward. However, we couldn’t lay the soundproof panels on the narrow windowsill with the handle there, so Tom had taken it off. Now come Monday, I can really join the party next door and give them a taste of their own medicine by blaring some music out the window. The only problem with that, though, is that Tom will be here, and he’ll be thoroughly against it. He doesn’t believe in fighting back by giving what you get. Well, if I don’t blast them out during their Monday party, I’ll just get them in the middle of the night.

Later…

Tom got me a few bags of different salad mixes. Some have just lettuce, some have lettuce, carrots, and cabbage slivers, and some have broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots. The broccoli and cauliflower are great. I love the broccoli heated up with melted butter, and I love the cauliflower dunked in ranch dressing.

I am not looking forward to tonight. I know I’m in for some serious game-playing due to a certain someone who loves to tease and who has deep-seated fears. The way he was acting earlier was a dead giveaway as to what the sex will be like tonight.

Yeah, you guessed it. I’m mid-cycle.

Now, I know I don’t have to pray to God to do right by me when it comes to a kid. I don’t have to beg him to make sure I don’t conceive. It’s a done deal. What I have to pray for, though, is for God to help Tom get over his fears and his need to play games. Well, maybe I’ll just wish I could pray for this because I know doing so will never do a bit of good. Only Tom, with God’s allowing it, can change his ways.

Nonetheless, just the unusually high amount of talk about how I’m so gorgeous (which is a lame attempt on his part to cover for the truth - his love of teasing me/his baby fears), along with certain comments and attitudes, tells me that he’s more than likely gonna refuse to go inside me tonight. I’ll bet you anything that this will be one of the times he’s in the bathroom for a while before we get together. He doesn’t always go to the bathroom before sex, but he usually does. If he does tonight, though, that’ll kind of strengthen my belief as to why he really goes into the bathroom before sex. He’s gonna go and beat it off so that he’ll be pleasantly spent when it comes time to play his games with me because he gets off on that, and because he’s too stubborn to admit his fears to me, too.

He went to bed a little while ago and it’s just about 4 PM now. He wants me to wake him up in 4-5 hours for sex, then we can go back to bed together, he says, to work on our little test some more. He’s suddenly all the more anxious to work on our sleeping together test. See, I won’t be crashing till 11 PM-1 AM. This way, if he breaks up his sleep, we can overlap our sleeping a bit. Then he says he’ll get up a few hours after I’ve crashed so he can have time alone to finish my program. He said it may have a million bugs in it, but at least I can begin testing it out. He’s a great programmer, but my vibes say yes, it’ll have its share of bugs.

Also, Tom will be going to work at 7:30 on Monday evening. So he’ll be leaving in the middle of the party.

One more thing - I asked him how the hell he could screw after just a few hours of sleep and said something like, “You’re not even gonna be able to get in there, let alone go banging away.”

His response was, “Well, if you have it in your head that that’s the way it’ll be, it will.”

I shouldn’t have said that because now he’ll use that as an excuse to make sex a disaster. I just want to have fun. I don’t want to play games, I don’t want to make excuses, he’s welcome to never cum again, but I don’t want lies and games.

Later…

What the fuck are these weird mother-fucking freeloaders doing now? Is the bitch’s dad trying to take the place of her boy toy’s door slamming? She and her dad, who’s like an old version of Bill Cosby, just packed some shit into his Caddy, or whatever the fuck the silver car is, then split. Since it’s just wishful thinking that she’s going away for the holiday weekend, is the cock gonna bring its bitch back later, or what?

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 1998
Woke up at 115 pounds today. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.

Yesterday, Tom and I ended up going to a video store where we got the new movie Titanic, plus 3 movies I picked out, and two he picked out. I liked all but one of the movies I picked out, but the Titanic - wow! It will make you cry for sure. It’s so sad and so scary. It really makes you hate God, too, for allowing such tragedy. The most terrifying part was when a part of the big ship turned straight upright. Some people held onto railings and stuff like that, but some fell downward and, on their way down, they’d hit things and bounce off of things. It totally brought me back to my jump, because I went down like that. I fell for a while, then flipped off an awning, then continued falling. It was also really creepy how one of the rowboats some of the people got into after the ship sunk, went gliding through tons of dead bodies just floating about.

At the video store, there was this really hot girl. Totally my type. Tall, thin, dark, etc. She had a plain face overall, but her black eyes and black hair were gorgeous. Her hair was a couple of inches from the crack of her ass. Even though she was casually dressed in a black, sleeveless shirt and jeans, and even though her body wasn’t femininely curvy, she looked great. Her boyish shape sort of reminded me of Brenda, but this one wasn’t bone thin.

We also went to that used bookstore. He got a magazine, and due to my building credit, I got 13 books for $12.50.

Later…

As figured, I haven’t shit today. My body’s just doing what it has to do to keep from falling under 115 pounds, I guess, since my body’s not comfortable at a lower weight these days. Not as a middle-aged non-smoker, it isn’t.

I knew this would happen. I just knew it would. One of my vibrators is started to crap out on me. I totally depend on these things. They don’t have screwy schedules, they don’t get irritation, they don’t get tired, sick, sore, or hurt. They’re all I can depend on sexually, and to tell you the truth - they’re better than the real thing. The real thing has too many problems and just doesn’t usually hit your most sensitive spots just right. With the vibrators, though, you’re in control. You hit it just right and just where you want it. It has no fears, no desire to tease or play games. It does what you want. Anyway, Tom said it was just a faulty contact, but that he can fix it if it acts up. I can use it as long as I hold it a certain way. This is the one I keep in the bedroom. I have the other one in the bathroom.

If there’s ever a time when Tom may play games (not let himself inside me) it’ll be tomorrow. That’s the closest I’ll be to mid-cycle on one of our scheduled sex days (he never wants me on the days we haven’t agreed to get together). Maybe he will let himself in there, maybe he won’t, but he sure as hell won’t cum. But that’s good, though, what with the way he’s so easy. Also, I’d bet my life on the fact that he too, prefers to take care of himself. I’m not the greatest in bed, I admit, and when he’s doing himself, he doesn’t have to risk the 5% chance of making a kid, since he’s only 95% sure I’m sterile.

I appreciate his being easy, and his keeping the sheets nice and dry, but I don’t like the lying. Again, I deliberately asked, how he knew the sex would someday be normal. Where he should’ve said, “It’s not because you rarely get off, and I practically never get off,” he said, “I can do anything if you give me enough time.”

Oh. It’s nice to know he needed “time” to be able to get off by his own wife in the first place. Nonetheless, he said what I suspected he’d say and flunked my little test.

Later…

It’s a quarter after 6:00 and at 6:00 I noticed the cock’s car out on the street in front of the bitch’s. It’s still there now, too, and it appears that he’s bringing the bitch home in the afternoons. If that’s the case, then that proves Tom’s theory right. He did move out because of us. Not because they’re fighting. But why are they being so cool about it? Are they biding their time, or what? In fact, I thought it was her come to talk to me about it at 6:00 when the doorbell rang (that’s how I first discovered it was parked on the street). I looked out the window and saw what I thought was the bitch next door. Dying of curiosity as to why this bitch would have the nerve to come to my door, I opened up. It was a Spanish girl, though, of about 13 years old (the bitch is so skinny and barely taller than me, that she looks like a kid when you can’t see her clearly) selling junk food.

Anyway, I know it’s still just a matter of months before that cock comes back, but guess what? As soon as it comes back - it’s outa here.

I’m a pound heavier today than yesterday. Yesterday I shit and was 116 pounds at the end of my day. Today I didn’t shit and am now 117 pounds. I also only had about 800 calories today and walked 20 minutes. I’ll definitely stay right where I am if I keep on shitting only every other day, that’s for sure, but at least I’m not gaining.

Later…

The freeloader has quietly left. Didn’t even hear a car door.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1998
Just did the bathroom, dusted, vacuumed, and did a little rearranging.

As I was going through my jewelry, I came across a gold band with clusters of tiny diamonds. I can use it as a wedding ring since I’m too big for my original gold band. In fact, this is kind of big on me.

I was so sure I’d awake at just below 115 pounds, but nope. I was a smidgen over 115 pounds since I didn’t shit yesterday. I made up for lost time and shit twice today, which means I really won’t shit tomorrow. If something’s not determined to keep me from falling under 115 pounds, then my middle name’s not Lin.

I called Tammy yesterday to ask about the girl’s first day of school. She said it went well and that they like their teachers and classmates.

Later…

Today I washed and hung out sheets and the tablecloth.

Oh, am I dreading this Labor Day! I know there’s gonna be ball games if not music. They know I can’t complain to the city about ball games. I don’t know what my schedule will be then, but maybe I’ll be at Ma’s house helping Tom while we sweat our asses off. There’s no AC there, and the cooler’s broken. Anyway, with Ma paying for it, of course, he’s gonna get the city to bring over a dumpster so he can dump the remaining stuff. All the stuff that people wanted is out of there. What’s left is junk. It’s $200 for the city to give you a dumpster to fill up that they’ll haul away. He might also rent a truck that he’ll fill and then haul to the dump. We’re in a better part of the city when it comes to big bulky things, like old pieces of furniture, for example. We have alleys here where our dumpsters are, and periodically, they’ll haul away big stuff if you stick it out there. Ma doesn’t have an alley, though, so she has to bring her big stuff to the dump herself.

I was surprised, but pleased, that yesterday I only got one sales call. The day before, there were none.

I knew it was just a matter of time before Andy would be asking for a favor, and just like most favors he asks of me, it’s useless. He leaves me this message all anxious to get over here for me to give him a crash course in typing. I know this is just another one of the many things he thinks he’s gonna get into, but he’s all talk and no action. Anyway, in my message to him I told him that if he’s serious this time about learning to type well, there’s really nothing I can do for him because it’s all a matter of him getting a feel for the keys himself and remembering. Just like you remember the fingering for certain chords on the keyboard, well, this is the same thing. No one can do the work for him. He has to practice and learn for himself, so I recommended he go to a pawn shop and pick up a cheap typewriter.

Now for the results of last night’s sleeping together in the bed test. It went well, and I think I only woke up once when he pulled on the covers. I could feel the covers gliding over me. I don’t remember hearing his alarm go off or feeling him get up and leave the room. Hopefully, I can continue to adjust and hopefully we can sleep together fairly regularly enough, except for when I have appointments.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 1998
The black bastard is a free soul after all. It dropped its bitch off yesterday at 4 PM. Shortly after, the bitch’s daddy left.

Woke up at 115 today. Of course, I won’t shit today and will be close to 120 by the end of the day. Since there’s an excellent chance we’ll be hitting Vegas this month, I’m not gonna worry too much about how I eat, because if eating so little can put 4 pounds on me, imagine how much Vegas will put on me! I’m gonna have to start all over when I get back because I’ll be coming back in the mid-120s. Maybe higher.

Later…

Same scenario today - the blue car picked up the bitch - the bitch’s dad is kid-sitting.

I’m getting more and more nervous as we approach the 7th. Well, we’ll see just how bad miss bitch wants to stick around here. I’m sure she’d rather not get evicted, but if so, it wouldn’t be the end of the world for her. I’m sure her dad or some other relative or friend that she’s got wrapped around her finger would squeeze her and her kid into wherever they lived. This bitch just can’t go anywhere. Everyone has to come over here for the holidays. The bitch is probably one of the few within her sick clan that has a house, but I’m sure the bitch doesn’t want to go anywhere. Why would she want to go somewhere else when she knows she can invite me to the party too? She’d never not want to include me.

It used to be that she’d go elsewhere for Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, but last Easter, they made a scene here. Does that mean they’ll even stick around for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year?

Yesterday turned out to be a nightmare as far as my allergies went from 7:30 till when I went to bed at 6:00. It just went on and on and on all fucking day. Tom got up after I went to bed and left me a message that I got when I got up this morning saying that he thinks it’s the different brand of sawdust that I used for the mice because it was bothering him. Well, I intend to throw the rest of the stuff out, but if that’s it, then why didn’t my allergies flare up when I put it in the rat’s cage a few days ago? And why haven’t I sneezed at all today? Besides, my allergies went off before I even emptied out the old sawdust, let alone put the new sawdust into the cages.

All I know is that I’m sick of these allergy attacks that I seem to have once or twice a week and sometimes more. Will there ever be an end to them? Now that I don’t have asthma attacks, I gotta have allergy attacks, right God? Well, better to sneeze than wheeze, I guess, but this is still bad enough and I’m really fucking sick of it!

Evie mailed us some family pictures. I wasn’t there that day to be in these pictures, but anyway, they consisted of Tom, Mary, Ray, Steven, Dave, David, Evie, Nickolena, Parker, Mike, Carol, Matt, Ryan, and Mom. She sent a couple of duplicates that I’ll send Tammy so she can see what some of these people look like.

Later…

Fortunately, Melanie didn’t kill me today. I was in and out fast. I didn’t get to get my molar filled because the doctor went home sick, so I’ll be having that done the next time I see Melanie on the 14th. This time, I get to get filled first, yanked second, but I’m gonna be in there for a while. She’s gonna move the bracket on the tooth, so between the filling and the moving of the bracket, it’ll be a long drag.

Melanie still turns me on, but not as much as she initially did. She had her hair swept straight back. I don’t like it as much that way. It’s always nice to see her, though, and I got to have her all to myself.

Afterward, Tom and I stopped at Abco’s. He needed Slim-Fast shakes and hot dogs, and I needed Tic-Tacs, gum, and salad. This time I got Verona salad and an oriental salad.

Here’s something weird - yesterday I wasn’t stuck, ate very little, but gained 4 pounds towards the end of my day. Today I’m stuck, ate a little more, but only gained 1½ pounds throughout the day. Weird.

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Last updated June 30, 2024