December 1999 in 1990s

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 30, 1999
We’re at the hotel now and Tom went to bed a little while ago after negotiating a deal with fuckface Steven over our washer/dryer. We’d prefer to settle on a reasonable price rather than have to sue, but if that’s what they force us to do, we’ll do it. It wouldn’t be the first time people made us do something we’d rather not. Always there’s someone, no matter where I go, fucking up and interfering with my life! Am I ever going to be allowed to live without others controlling my life? And I totally resent God too, for sitting back and allowing this to happen. It’s nice that he connected us with Dennis and his trailer, but other than that, he’s been of no help to us as we’ve been dragged through the mud. What does he care that we haven’t had a home or a stable, normal life with some structure and routine? What does he care about all our mental anguish? Or about the fact that we’ve got to make house payments and hotel payments and we owe Dennis $1,200? Tom’s still being way too overly optimistic. He says we’ll be in the house next week for sure. No, we won’t. They’ll only be more problems, delays, excuses, lies, incompetence, and plain old cockish stupidity. If we’d had women running the show, the bulk of this would’ve been done right and on time, if not very close to it.

The fucking inspector, who works for the county/state, wouldn’t even inspect yesterday, even though he did show up. Thanks to the people who never told us in the first place, we found out we had to make some preparations before he could inspect. Someone had to come out to remove most of the skirting, for example. Now they say they’ll re-inspect Monday, but so what if they do? They’ll only find more problems to complain about and tell us what we’ve got to do first. Then we can be stalled some more.

We’re now at the point where everyone involved has fucked up. Of course, though, Brian and Gravity haven’t fucked up nearly as much as Steven and Dan. Fucking, motherfucking cocks! I am such a sexist and I always will be! I fucking hate males! Sure, there are some stupid women out there, but there’s no comparison between females and males, except for a few guys like Tom. Females are way smarter. They know more, learn better and faster, and retain info well.

I had a bad vibe as soon as we got here and to the room but hopefully, it’ll be a false alarm. If God has any compassion for us, he’ll leave us alone with other people’s noise. All we’ve heard so far was a loud door slam once or twice. Really, though, I don’t need other people’s noise and shit on top of the people who are already shitting on us.

Yesterday, we decided to go see Ma, Mary and Dave, and they were kind enough to put their dog out back. Even Dave said he’s getting sick of Pepper. Pepper’s been getting into all kinds of things. Maybe that’s why he was in the Humane Society.

Dave was his usual teasing, humorous self.

Ma was with it, but man is she shaky! She had her forearms resting across her stomach and would have occasional spurts where she’d slap herself she was so full of tremors. What an inhumane, awful way to live! Yeah God is good. God is really good.

We received more gifts than we expected. We thought we were getting gifts only from Mom, Mary and Dave, but nope. We got more!

Mom got me a facial skincare massager and Tom a super cool screwdriver with a handle that allows for better leverage. Mary got me one of those little musical dolls that are 8” sitting (identical to my other two) and Tom a computer game. Ray and Nora got us four beautiful puzzles. They’re each 1000 pieces, so the table I plan on getting will be great for it. Jackie and Jim got us a Christmas card holder which would take us 20 years to fill. Carol and Steven got us treats - cookies, dried fruit, nuts, etc. David and Evie got us caramel popcorn, and of course, like always, even had to enclose a picture. Her and her pictures! It was a nice one, though, taken in San Diego with Ma, David, Evie and her kids, Carol, Steven, and Matthew.

We also got that money I said we were getting and I spent $75 of it after we left at Wal-Mart.

I got a tier/valance set and put the valance in the kitchen and the tier in the guest room. I got swags for the bedroom. Now all I have to do is get something for the living room.

All these window treatments are white or ivory. I wanted neutral colors where furniture and bedding of any kind are to be so they wouldn’t clash with it

For the first time I’ve ever seen before, especially at a place like a department store, they had boxes of porcelain doll clothes. I got Anne a pretty pink dress with a few scattered rosebuds. To replace her hideous, old-fashioned dress with small clusters of flowers on a dark blue background.

Lastly, I got a gorgeous Peruvian Barbie with the most realistic face I’d ever seen on a Barbie. She has a very pleasant face with long dark braids. She’s dressed in colorful Peruvian attire right down to her sandals. Debbie makes for a great variety of these little musical dolls (she plays an old 50s song I never heard of). Melanie has brown hair, Stephanie has auburn, and Debbie’s blond. Melanie has green eyes, Stephanie’s are blue, and Debbie’s are brown. I wonder why she has a name and the others don’t? Anyway, she’s a nice-looking doll in an ivory satin dress with gold accents. She has a matching ribbon for a headband.

I decided to wait for the new headphones, to get the CD-changer when we can and not get a big Barbie. I think she’d look really tacky. Especially after seeing a large Barbie head in the store (so you could do her hair).

Tom slept on and off from the time he came home this morning. He fired the generator for a while so I could type, then later I drove the car from the house to the trailer, while he hauled the generator back. He had parked by the house when he got in cuz he didn’t know if I’d be up. I hope to sleep well tonight, cuz there’s no way I’m gonna be able to sleep in on New Year’s Day. Not with all the gunfire, and also, I’m sure New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day will be filled with lots of music. It fucking figures New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day has to come before I could be in the insulated house, sleeping with the fan.

Anyway, this will probably be the very last time I write in the 1900s. Till the next century!

Later…

Well, I guess it isn’t the last time I write this century, after all. Tom and his fucking colds! One after another after another. I’m sick of it! I knew it, too. Mom and Mary had colds when we saw them yesterday, and I knew he’d catch it. He says it’s not possible to have caught it from them so fast and that he probably caught it from someone at work. I disagree. It only takes a day, but for him, five minutes is enough! He blames it on lack of sleep, but whether or not that’s a factor, just knowing he’s gonna have ten colds a year for the rest of his life really bums me out. It bums me out for him and me, cuz I still have to deal with it, too. I may rarely get colds, but I’ve had enough to know how cranky they make you. He’s as hexed in the department of colds as I used to be. That isn’t gonna change anytime soon. Nothing about him will change upon getting into the house. Not his eating habits. Not his lack of sleep. Not his trashing. Not his busyness. Not his lack of interest in sex/cumming.

Anyway, now that I’m done bitching, I’ll probably return to reading. He’s in the shower now, getting ready for work. Guess I’ll also do a little singing once he leaves, too. Teresa wasn’t working tonight. She said her days off vary.

I never saw Tracy tonight, but her car’s still here. Her husband owns a sign-making company. They have their own company, a house, and can pay all this hotel money, so why don’t they get a nicer car than the beat-up piece of shit they have?

Tom’s so sure that we’ll be in the house next week and that next Sunday, Tuesday, or Thursday will be our last hotel stay. Yeah, right! That’s not what my logic or gut feeling tells me. I don’t know what I feel anymore. All I know is that I can’t believe a damn thing I hear from anyone and that I need to always assume the worst and be a pessimist. It helps lessen the feeling of disappointment when things don’t work out. The house is like one big dead person we’ve been trying to bring to life. It’s like electricity is its heartbeat and water is its lungs breathing. Will this house ever come alive?!?!

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1999
At the hotel…

We arrived at the hotel and got a third-floor room like we’ve been doing lately.

The last time, I forgot to pack the sneakers Tom works in and since he didn’t want to go to work in sandals, he bought new sneakers before work that night, which was Sunday night. He was due for a new pair anyway. Now he can use his old, smelly, beat-up pair for outdoor activities.

After we checked in this evening, I ran down to wash his work pants. Luckily, Tracy wasn’t using the machines. One of her daughters saw me and said hi. Last Sunday I saw Tracy by her room down the end of the first-floor hall and ran to ask her how much longer she planned on using the dryer (Teresa told me it was she who was using it, which I had guessed). She was glad to see me and was on her way out with a friend for pizza. She offered me some popcorn and I told her we didn’t have a room with a microwave this time and needed to cut the snacks down to lose 20 pounds.

“Where, girl?” she asked.

It was kind of amusing to think about how she and Teresa think I look fine. I bet I do to them. These are gigantic women, so I’m sure I do look fine in their eyes.

Anyway, I helped her daughters Sierra and Desiree gather up the clothes that were in the dryer (they’re about 6-8 years old) and I put a bracelet on for Desiree she was having trouble getting on.

Teresa had a headache so I brought her some ibuprofen.

I took a chance and had us eat at Denny’s earlier cuz I wanted something different. Luckily, it was quiet, but I’m not gonna push my luck, that’s for sure.

Dieting without something like prune juice is a hopeless waste of time, cuz whenever I try to diet, I get stuck. The lack of food gets made up for cuz my body just hangs onto everything it gets, so there’s no use in struggling to keep food out when my body just struggles to keep it in. Kind of defeats the purpose. I’ll never lose weight and be thin again, anyhow, which has been more than obvious for 2-3 years now, so what the fuck, huh? My only worry is - how much more weight will I gain before we get in the house? I’m nearly 130 pounds now. Will I be nearly 140 when we move in? 150? Dan, you fucking cock, I could kill you! You fucking motherfucker! You really controlled, delayed, and fucked up our lives! I can’t work out on an exercise machine cuz of this cock, I can’t begin my story, sleep in my own bed, or live my own fucking life! Oh, the money, time, and hassles he’s cost us!

Tom and I made a deal. That I’d send letters to Steven and Dan giving them a piece of my mind, rather than going and beating the shit out of them when we’re in the house. He worries I’ll go overboard with how mad I am and kill the cock. Fine. I’d be happy to drop them a line.

We went to Casa Grande yesterday to get refills on my inhalers. For a couple of bucks, I got a gorgeous souvenir ruler. It has several beautiful pictures of various places in Arizona, like the Grand Canyon, Sedona, etc. It sure beats my old plain, boring wooden ruler I’d had for seemingly half my life.

I forgot to mention the comment Tom made when we screwed in the house on Christmas day. “I did all I wanted to do,” he said. So he does have control over his actions. I always knew he did, but what I can’t understand to this day is how he can stand to be the way he is. How can he stand not relieving his excitement? How could anyone? Now that’s major self-control. Also, it’s almost like he’s just dying to prove me more and more right each time we screw about how I say he’s always got a problem. It’s like he’s saying, “Yup, you’re right. I’ll always have an excuse when we screw.” I swear, his turning me off is what turns him on. Well, we’ve all got to get our satisfaction somehow, huh?

The computer, which has really helped occupy my mind and time, was fun for both of us today. We played miniature golf against each other. He won one game, but for the first time in my life, after never beating anyone at miniature golf whether it was on a computer or not, I beat him.

Brian, our favorite, came out with his son to do a little work. We were supposed to have an inspection today, but as usual, no one showed up for that. We were chatting with one of the well drillers right before we both headed out. The only kind one that may have some brains and that may be somewhat honest. We’re now at 700’ and still no water. Dan’s been sick, he says, and I was making little comments about how glad I was to hear he was sick, then Tom told me afterward that that was Dan’s son. Well, I didn’t know. He doesn’t look like Dan any more than Brian’s son looks like him, but that’s not a surprise. A good 80% of the time kids look more like their mothers. I resemble both my parents, and unfortunately, God picked out each one’s worst features to give to me. I’ve got my dad’s long chin and little hole of a mouth, and my mom’s lousy shape.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1999
I’m in the trailer for the night and Tom’s asleep in the house till he has to get up for work.

The well drillers were out today. They arrived right before we did and found the rig’s battery dead, so Tom jumped it.

Again, I’m not kidding when I say that something does not want us to live here. They drilled down to 660’ and still no water. I guess the only reason they hit water at 545’ was simply that they hit an isolated pocket of water. I feel so fucking teased with this house! First, something up there had to tease me with when the house would even get here, then I had to miss out on seeing the house arrive, and now this!

I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that my life on the road is going to exist for a while longer. I see no end in sight too soon. And I once wanted to be a traveling singer! Ugh! The only sense of normalcy and my old life I’m getting is during all the hours I’m spending on the computer. I’ve already typed up the first page.

Sunday morning wasn’t very pleasant here. I woke up at 6:00 to go pee and spoke to Tom after I heard him rummaging around in the car. I had just fallen back asleep when every Goddamn dog within a ten-mile radius decided to go off, and our local cocks decided to get trigger-happy. I hate these weekend shoot-outs. The dogs are barely audible in the house, but the gunfire isn’t, and I’m not gonna get any sleep in my own home on weekends! I could if I slept with the box fan, but I don’t want to sleep with that particular fan. I want to sleep with the other one. I hate being controlled in my own home by strangers, and I refuse to be. I don’t even know these people and I’ll be damned if I’m forced to accommodate these assholes. After all the shit we went through and are still going through to live here, I’ll kill anyone who tangles with me out here.

I spoke to a certain black bitch that tangled with me once upon a time in Phoenix. I got her number from the computer and was surprised to find her even available. I thought she’d be out of town.

Anyway, she answered, and I started off by asking if she got my mail. I didn’t get the reaction I expected, so I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I mean, I expected her to go off on me instantly. Not act like she didn’t have a clue about it, but hey, there are no guarantees that she ever did get my mail. I’m still hoping that she did and was just caught off guard by my call.

So then I asked if she knew who I was and she said no. My next question brought an instant hung-up, rather than the fit I thought she’d fly right into. I asked if she got any mail from an old neighbor. Then I called back and got her machine, as I hoped to at that point, and told her just what I thought of her. After a few minutes, I made another call where she hung right up, then my last call where I left my final piece of mind on her machine.

It’s a damn good thing I didn’t call all night long too, over and over, cuz it was a long-distance call and I didn’t even know it till Tom asked me about it (it was on the hotel receipt)! I denied knowing anything about it and he told the front desk we never made the call which they “say” they’ll remove.

I didn’t know it was long distance cuz of this screwy new system they’ve got where Phoenix now has a zillion area codes. Sometimes you don’t know if it’s long-distance cuz for both local calls and long-distance you have to dial the area code before the number. They needed to create 10-digit numbers cuz they ran out of numbers.

We got everything out of mini storage yesterday, so now we have nothing stored anywhere.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1999
Today was a great day. Save for a few scattered dogs in the distance, it was a quieter Christmas than I expected. No voices, no gunfire, no music. Till 8:00. Yeah, I heard distant bass rumbling off towards where all the lights are for about 15 minutes, but fortunately, it was too soft to be heard in the house. I could only hear it in the trailer. I think it was coming from the same place last week’s music came from.

New Year’s Eve is probably gonna be noisier than in the city. It’s tradition, especially in Arizona, to shoot guns at midnight. Well, if they do it in the city where it’s not allowed, I can only imagine how much they’ll do it out here in this rural area where it is allowed.

I was surprised at how many cars I heard driving by last night. Maybe not down Ralston or Meadow Green, but near enough. Right before midnight, the gray dumpy car that lives at the furthest rental drove down Ralston by the house, then turned onto Meadow Green, then in front of their place. That’s the second time I’ve seen them come in really late. Maybe someone there works a 3-11 shift.

Shockingly, there’s still no one in the closer house in back, nor has George brought in any new trailers or houses.

Although it was cold, in the 50s, I survived sleeping with the thermostat just below 60º. Tom said that hardly any propane got used last night. Tonight, though, I’m gonna keep it at just under 65º, although I prefer 70º. I just don’t want to risk running out at 3 AM. I could sleep without any heat at all, but I’d rather have at least a little.

Why are we so fucking hexed with toilets? Toilets and cars! First the valve wasn’t closing all the way so we couldn’t fill the toilet with water to take a dump, then the toilet paper got jammed up so no more would fit down the hole. It certainly wasn’t full, so our tipping the trailer the other day trying to move it must’ve caused it all to settle in one spot. I just hammed the toilet paper down with the end of the fly swatter, so hopefully it’ll be OK for a while.

I haven’t been setting alarms for a few weeks now. I seem to naturally wake up between 8:00 and 10:00.

When I got up today, I brought food and water over to the animals, who are now in the house.

We dragged the generator over to the house to run the portable heater to heat the bedroom, where we had boring, predictable sex. The only surprise to it was that it didn’t hurt like I expected it to. Good, so when we screw again in 2-4 weeks, I’ll know not to worry. Other than that, the excuses came again. This time it was the cramp-in-the-side excuse.

I steamed some dolls’ dresses and hair, but what really made the day was that I got to use the computer! Oh, it felt so good! I missed it! I was surprised not to have forgotten anything, like how to download pictures, which I did, and my typing hasn’t slowed down a bit.

I typed 7 pages (nearly half of my first trailer journal) and retrieved Joebitch’s number. The one she got when she moved. I’d love to call her from the hotel to hear her reaction to hearing from me and to see if I can confirm she got my mail, but unless the bitch has changed habits, she’s out of town till after New Year’s. However, if there’s any good to us being delayed from getting in the house, it’s that we’ll still be playing hotel when she gets back.

Speaking of that black and a certain pack of Mexicans, I wonder if part of the shit we’re going through trying to get in our own home is part of God’s punishment for my mail to those people and for dumping Andy. I think it’s mostly cuz we left the city, though, and to compensate us for getting such a nice house. Well, feel we deserve and earned this place, and if something up there doesn’t think so - tough.

Because we brought over the 2 big boxes my computer and monitor were in from the trailer to the house, we were able to fold the bed back into a couch that’s in the front of the trailer. It sure makes the place look bigger. I swept and vacuumed the trailer today.

It was good to take a day off from going out. I needed it. Tom made a trip to Maricopa, though, for gas and my favorite coffee.

Tom told me that many years ago, for about a year or more, all he had to eat every day was a ham and cheese sandwich, fries, and a shake. He got this at a drive-through every morning before work and kept no food in his house. I asked why and he said it was just a habit. I wish I could get myself into the “habit” of only having one meal a day, but I’m such a wimp. I can never get used to the hunger no matter how long I diet.

Around 7:00 I fired down my computer and he fired down the generator. He went to bed in the house and I came here to the trailer. I’m gonna go do another round of singing.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1999
In the trailer…

Tom went to crash in the house where the animals are now.

I just heard the strangest thing I ever heard around here. I was sitting on the bed relaxing with some cocoa when I heard a voice. It certainly wasn’t loud enough to make out, but when I stepped outside, I heard a male voice say, “Go to hell, go to hell,” in the utmost terrifying voice. I think it was from next door. They said it with such fear that if they were just joking, they’re a damn good actor. I also heard a dog that sounded too close for comfort, bark a few times. The only other sound I hear right now is some engine revving up, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. It sounds a lot like a big tractor a few miles away, but it’s probably a truck next door.

I expect it to sound a bit city-like tomorrow for Christmas. Some voices, gunfire, and music oughta be heard. I’m surprised I haven’t heard any music yet tonight, but it’s still early. The music I heard last Friday didn’t start till close to 10:00.

I still hear that engine and am beginning to think it’s a farming vehicle of some kind (you’d be surprised at how much work they do at night). cuz I can’t imagine why next door, or any other neighbors, would sit and run their vehicles. It’s not idling. Whatever it is, they’re gunning its engine periodically.

Anyway, to sweep through the day - we went to Whataburger after checking out and I’ve really had it with them. They take forever, they fuck up our orders, and I’ve had enough. I don’t want to go back to noisy restaurants with shitty service either, so I’ll just grab something from Circle K. People are just too stupid!

Then, it was off to mini storage to load up with more stuff. I made a plant hanger out of silver chains and hair elastics for my pink floral plant that was here all along in the big box in which my monitor is. I hung it on Tweety’s old stand. Once the house is all set up, I’ll thoroughly describe each room.

Our last stops were to the grocery store and Circle K for my coffee.

Upon arriving home at 1:30, we were both majorly shocked to see the well drillers here, who had just arrived too, and were setting up to pull all the casing out.

Then it hit me… they’re here cuz they want us to think they’re finally gonna get their asses in gear and finish the job right for once and for all. The fact is, though, that after today, we’re gonna have to wait God knows how many weeks to get them back, but hey, their rig’s here. I’ll sabotage it on top of everything else I’m gonna do to them (and Steven).

With no success, we tried moving the trailer by the house by chaining it to a crowbar that we chained to the frame of the car, but amazingly, all it did was break the crowbar right in half.

Since we only have enough propane for one night rather than the two we plan on being here for. I’m trying to go as long as I can with no heat. To help with that, I swapped in my blanket for a down comforter, and am gonna sleep with my pants on, as well as the sweatshirt and socks I’ve been sleeping in.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1999
Tom and I are at the hotel now, and boy are we pissed, frustrated and depressed! It’s an understatement to say we are really really cursed! Something does not want us to live in that house. I knew God was gonna make us pay for leaving Phoenix and the Mexicans but like this? This is overkill. He’s really taking it to the extreme.

Today was such a mix of emotions. Not only was the fear of God in me but so was everything from tears of frustration and depression to a red-hot boiling rage.

Scared the shit out of Dan today. Everyone’s pissed off at Dan and Steven. Both Dan and Steven’s careers are over cuz I also intend to sabotage their so-called business and have their licenses pulled. I gave Dan a piece of my mind from A to Z, and according to Tom, even he said I had every right to be upset later on when I ran into the trailer to cry, bitch, and cuss.

After Tom called at 10:30 complaining about how they “promised” to be at our place and done with the well by 10:00, the fucking cocks finally decided to show up at 1:00. Tom was asleep in the house when they pulled in and I hopped out of the trailer and approached the driver. I asked if he was Dan and he nodded. Then I firmly said, “I want the well done today. No more delays.”

He looked terrified, although his partner, a cock I’ve never seen before, found it to be quite funny by the amused look on his face. So Dan says it’ll be done, then proceeds to set to work on the well. Then Gravity, who’s turned out to be one of the more reliable guys we’ve dealt with so far (along with Brian. Although I wish he’d finished caulking nails that are visible), shows up and digs two trenches. One running along the back of the house to the well for water pipes, then one running along the front of the house to the well for the electricity. We had no idea he was gonna dig a trench in front. His cowboy buddy was with him. They both sympathize with what we’re going through as far as Dan and Steven go, and Gravity said that yes, Hilda was really fired. He said he’d have quit if she weren’t.

Anyway, Dan is such an incompetent little fuck. Before he even tested to see if the well had dried up, he and his assistant put the pump, threaded pipe, and wire down the well. And the stupid fuck never had enough pipe to begin with, cuz his math is worse than mine. He said he went down 526’ but the fucking thing’s 550’ deep (which should’ve been deeper). So the shit runs the pump, gets no water, has to pull everything back up, then tells us the well’s dried up and he sees it all the time. Then if he’s seen this before, the stupid fuck should’ve known better than to have those other guys only drill to 550’ and he should’ve checked for water before going through all this shit and wasting more time. Now the retarded fuck is saying they’ll come back and drill deeper and it’ll be done and operable by next Thursday. Oh, bull fucking shit it will be, and as I told him, he’s already looking at not getting paid. And I’ll be so pissed if Tom pays the January house payment, cuz I’m not paying for anything I’m not living in. They wouldn’t pay these assholes’ bills for not being done yet, so why should we have to pay for a house we’re not able to live in? That ain’t fair.

There’s no fucking excuse for this. We should’ve been living in that house 6-8 weeks ago. These people are turning my dream into a nightmare, and I’m gonna be their worst nightmare! Just as soon as we get in that house, so help me God! I’m fucking sick and tired of people lying to me and fucking up my life and getting in the way of the things I want to do. It’s one thing to have God running my life and making all my decisions for me, but another to have people doing it, too.

I’m scared. I’m really scared. I know it’s gonna be one problem after another as the “price” we have to pay for leaving the city. But why?!?! Why?!?! Why should we have to be punished in order to have something we want in life? We worked hard for this. We earned it. We deserve it. What? Can only lazy blacks or Mexicans be given anything for nothing?

If these stupid shits don’t want to do the work for us, why don’t they just say so? Why the bullshit excuses and stories? Tom let the loan people know we’re way past ready to fire these people and hire new people, but if we do, will they be any more reliable and competent?

Teresa isn’t working tonight, and I’m kind of glad she isn’t cuz I’d be lousy company. I’m all bummed out and I may only bring her down, too.

After we got here and showered, he called Mary and we both cried on her shoulder. It felt good and I could really hug her for being so positive, cheerful, supportive, and understanding. She really felt for us.

She mentioned a Christmas gift for me and from what I understood, she and Ma picked it out together. I guess they debated about which one would be best for me, but as I told her, whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it. Tom and I doubt it’s a doll. We think it’s clothes of some kind. I kind of hope not, cuz I don’t think anything they could get would fit. Not if they’re buying something for a 110-pound person to wear who’s really close to 130 pounds.

Before anyone came out to our place, all by myself, I put Tom’s free chair together and then he broke it. We were having trouble snapping the wheels in and he put so much force on it that the plastic we glued it, but I don’t expect it’ll stay put for long.

The directions the chair came with were actually written in clear, blunt English. No wordy shit, no dancing around the subject.

What I’ve already written about wasn’t our only problem. Something’s really out to get us good. We’re gonna have no more free time than we used to in Phoenix.

The fucking trailer toilet is fucked up now so you can’t fill it up with water. Another thing we have to deal with. As if we don’t already have more than enough to do.

Also, the headphones for my portable CD player have a short in its wire, so now I’ve gotta get new headphones. I have a couple of other pairs, but one’s too uncomfortable and the other’s jack is the wrong size and I don’t know where my adapters are at the moment.

I also let Mary know I was sorry I couldn’t make up those calendars for Christmas as I’d originally intended to do, and she understood.

She also said things like how she wanted to see the house when it was done, we’d be very happy and things would work out, and this will only make me stronger so I’m a pioneer woman when this is over. Well, if I haven’t been a pioneer since I was about five, I never will be. I feel the opposite. I feel like all the shit I went through at home with my parents, then at the places and apartments I was in, along with living with the blacks and Mexicans, has made me smarter and more experienced, but weaker, nonetheless. I feel like each crisis just breaks me even more.

To make an already shitty situation even shittier, it was so incredibly windy today that the dust Gravity and his tractor were kicking up was horrendous. We had to shout to hear each other, and dust was getting in my eyes and hair.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1999
In the trailer…

That’s the second time I’ve seen one of the trucks next door by the shacks. The first time, a cock was there during the day. He was telling their dark, medium-size dog to “go home.” As in to go up to the house. After he was done doing whatever it was he was doing at the shacks, he drove around the corner and on up to the house.

Someone was there again just now. I could hear the truck engine and see taillights. There was once electricity running to these shacks, and there’s still a phone wired to it. Rumor has it that some old people, presumably the older woman’s parents, used to live in these shacks before they died, but I don’t see how they could have. They’re barely five feet by five feet.

They’re so old and ugly-looking. They’re leaning slightly to one side and their windows are smashed. Fortunately, this should keep the kid from playing around them, cuz that’d be dangerous. They’re right on the corner of their property, which I thought was illegal. I thought you couldn’t have any building of any kind closer than 25’ to the edge of your property.

Maybe they’re using them for storage. I just hope that if they’re not gonna tear them down, they never restore them. I don’t want them that close to me, despite how quiet they’ve been.

Anyway, I’m here hanging out in the trailer and Tom’s asleep in the house.

These fucking cocks keep fucking us over with more bullshit lies and excuses, but now my vibes make perfect sense. As I said, I had a good vibe for the 23rd, which is tomorrow, but I also felt a bad vibe kick in two days ago. I had thought the good vibe was cuz of the two dolls I got today, but we’ll find that out for sure tomorrow. The bad vibe was cuz the fucking well people didn’t finish the job they were supposed to finish today, the lazy lying, mother-fuckers! I kept telling Tom for these last two days that they wouldn’t be out today, even though he insisted I’d be wrong.

Today’s excuse from the well driller was that he couldn’t get any workers today. Bull fucking shit! Steven told Tom that he spoke to Dan, the cock who’s holding up this final part of the well, and Dan swears the well will be done by 10 AM tomorrow and that he’ll bring his wife out to help if he has to. Even Steven said he’d come out and help. Like that stupid, worthless piece of shit would know anything about wells, yeah right! Then we got Gravity swearing he’ll come running right out to finish his job as soon as Dan gets his lazy ass out. Then we gotta wait for an inspection, and for APS to give us a meter box.

Well, it’s all bullshit. All fucking bullshit. No one will show up tomorrow and tomorrow’s excuse will be that he couldn’t get any vehicles running in order to get out here, or some lame, bullshit excuse like that. I can’t believe a damn thing anyone says! My life has been based on nothing but lies. All people want to do is talk. Everything’s all talk and no action.

I made a deal with Tom. We did it his way with the Mexicans and the blacks. I never laid a hand on them. But this cock’s mine. If he does come out tomorrow, fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut and my fists to myself, but he’s not allowed to leave this property till his job’s complete. If he doesn’t come out by Christmas, he’s at my mercy, and I swear, I’ll be his worst nightmare! I’ll fucking beat the cock beyond recognition. Nobody fucks me out of thousands of dollars and gets away with it. Even if I could win in court, I’m not gonna use the courts to fight my battles for me, which would cost more money and take forever. I can’t beat the money we’re lost to hotels out of this cock, but I can beat him so he suffers and so he really has an excuse to not work for a while.

Tom and I were checking out the well the other day, which is only a 550’ long pipe in the ground at this point. They covered it with a bucket and when we picked it up, you could hear the fine pieces of rock trickling down it that slipped down when we removed the bucket. Sound really gets funneled well in such a narrow space. I threw a stone down, a small quartz rock, actually, and it sounded weird. It not only seemed to make a wind sound going down, but you could also hear it hitting the sides of the pipe as it went down. I heard it hit water with a splat that echoed. It must’ve taken at least ten seconds to get down there.

Why is the dirt out here so powdery and why are there no rocks out here? Tom and I have been asking these questions, and if we can ever get back online one of these years, we’ll research this topic. I thought I once heard that the Grand Canyon was once an ocean, but Tom never heard that. He never heard what a co-worker told him either, which was that this was an ocean millions of years ago. Well, the powdery, dusty, rockless dirt supports that theory, but why aren’t there any fossilized bones of the sea life from back then? I know land can change drastically over lots of time, but it’s hard to understand how a desert could’ve once been a swampy or tropical area.

Scuttles is almost as big as Ratsy is now.

I accidentally scared poor Teresa last night. I came up to the desk and asked if she believed in psychics and she stiffened right up. After a few seconds of hesitation, she said yes. Then I told her I had a bad vibe that they weren’t gonna show up tomorrow (today) and proceeded to explain when she suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Oh, you scared the shit out of me! I thought you were talking about having a bad vibe for me.”

Got two new dolls today at the grocery store. They’re 17” and from the same company I got Shauna and Meagan from. They were marked down from $20 each to $10 each, as I told Tom I thought they’d be. It’s hard to believe these two dolls together cost half of what Anne costs alone.

Nakita has reddish-brown hair and grayish eyes. I guess some might call her hair auburn. She wears a beautiful dress with shimmering gold and gold beads. She even has gold beads on her shoes.

Selena has blond hair and brown eyes and wears a white dress with pink tulips across the chest.

Their hair was styled the same, with looped braids. It’s where you put the hair in two ponytails, then separate three sections of hair on each side and braid them. Then you hook the ends of the braids up by the rubber band holding the ponytails. I never particularly cared for this hairstyle so I redid their hair. I put Selena’s in a high-pitched ponytail and started to make one braid for Nakita, but because her hair was uneven, loose pieces stuck out along the braid. Instead, I took those shorter pieces which were at the sides, and pulled them back with a gold barrette. Her hair’s long! To her feet.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1999
At the hotel…

I’m getting sicker and sicker of unreliable people! Why can’t anyone finish what they start? The stupid shits drill the well, and now they’re not gonna finish it till tomorrow! Or so they say.

I had a good vibe for the 20th, but all that happened then was they came and got their rig. Big deal, huh? Although he says it was a good thing cuz he had been worried they were gonna be stuck in all the mud they created, I was never worried.

I also had a good vibe for tomorrow, but logic, plus people’s work patterns, tells me we can forget about getting in by Christmas and count on not being in till around January 10-15.

As soon as we arrived home yesterday, I knew, I just knew things weren’t gonna work out. Immediately I knew our two-week wait just got jacked up to about four weeks.

What really burns me up is that these people can fuck us over and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it short of killing them. We don’t have a case in court since contracts, as I’ve learned, mean absolutely nothing around here. They can put it in writing all they want that they have until December 1st or December 24th to finish up, but it’s bullshit! All bullshit! No one keeps their word, no one does shit, and no one gives a shit that we have to live with the hassles and expense of bouncing between the trailer and hotel. They can promise, they can write, they can threaten each other, but it’s all a bunch of bull fucking shit! None of these contractors will ever get sued or fired by anyone, we won’t get a discount for all these lazy, needless delays, and we’re gonna be losing thousands of dollars on account of these cocks. Aaaaarrrrggggghh!!! I want to kill these people sooo fucking bad!

I should’ve known something was up as soon as the house sold as fast as it did and as soon as we got that incredible offer. I should’ve known God had a reason for it. Of course he had the house sell fast at such a phenomenal price; he knew we’d need the money and that it’d take forever to get in the house. This was his first of many compensations to come, too. He won’t be finished with us when we do get in the house. No way. He’s gonna make us not only pay dearly for this big, nice new house, he’s gonna punish me for leaving the city. He wanted me to be a city girl. He wanted me in the city and he wanted me to listen to those Mexicans next door. But because I refused to stay in the noisy, crowded city filled with freeloaders, I have to pay for it. The question is what’s he gonna do when we do move in? Fuck up the house? Have us get sick or injured?

God, if it’s you who’s been cursing us, leave us alone! If it’s not you, then leave us alone whoever or whatever you are!

Later…

Must be a Mexican close by. Yeah, I heard a car stereo thumping.

Last night I crashed earlier than usual cuz I was so beat. That pain I get at half-time every so often was back again to bug me, so maybe that was draining me. For the first time ever on the land, I awoke before sunrise.

I ended up speaking more with Teresa and Tracy, the black lady, but mainly Tracy, last Sunday night. We mostly talked about my having braces/retainers, and why she’s interested in getting them for herself, beats me. Her teeth are already straight.

Teresa brought in cookies she baked for the guests and they were delicious. She has her younger brother Joey here with her tonight. Last Sunday her two sisters stood over. I wonder why they stay at the hotel.

We’re in the same room we were in last time - room 330 with a king bed and micro/fridge. Last time, on a hunch, I called the room directly below me to see if Teresa’s sister was in it, and sure enough, she was. A young girl answered and in a disguised voice, I asked if she was Teresa’s sister. Yeah, she said, and I hung up.

Tom’s mom is giving us quite a generous Christmas gift. As Tom said, if he understood her right, we’re each getting a wrapped gift, $100 for each of us, and $250 for us both. Neat, huh? Can’t wait to get in that house and get our new exercise machine, even if that means my big Barbie, CD-changer, new headphones, and cactus napkin holder have to wait.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1999
At the hotel…

Arrived at 3:00 after doing things around the house. We both slept till 10:30. My schedule’s slipping! It’s still too soon to not take any Melatonin and allow my schedule to naturally go wherever it wants to.

I did laundry as soon as we got here, and again the hotel ran out of quarters. A black woman, who was sitting in the lobby with her three kids, and who had been chatting with Teresa, gave me quarters for my dollar bill.

Tom mentioned seeing a black family leave every day for a while in a beat-up car. I think these are the same people cuz we got to talking, and they too, are having a home built. Theirs is being built on-site, though, here in Chandler, but why they couldn’t stay where they were till the house was done beats me cuz they’re not coming from out of the area. They’re from Chandler.

We were talking about our rooms, and I made a comment about it being too bad that the vending machine was out of popcorn, since we’ve got a microwave, and she said they had some and sent her son to fetch me a bag. How nice of her. I offered something in exchange for it, but she shrugged my offer off.

I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to Teresa yet, but two of her sisters were here, and my God! They don’t look like sisters at all! Just like Tammy and I don’t look like sisters, Teresa and her sisters are like night and day. Where Teresa is quite hefty, her sisters are as skinny as a coat of paint. There’s only a slight resemblance in the face.

Got a couple of really nice calendars, although I still plan on making my own too, with the thick paper I just got. One of the ones I got has pictures of the desert in bloom, and the other has cats. The cat ones have a little cat picture for each day, rather than one big picture for each month.

Not much else to tell right now. Guess I’ll do some reading. And hope to hell this week goes well. I sure as hell hope to have a better idea of just where we stand by the time the week’s out, or even by Wednesday. Just please God - let our well be completed with its pump tomorrow, and then please let Gravity and APS finish their jobs!!!

Another thing I wonder and even worry about is how long after we move in will it be before we get a washer/dryer and the exercise machine?

Just let things work out for a change!

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1999
Never again will I go out on weekends! Especially when it’s so close to Christmas. The traffic and crowds were horrendous! At least something good came out of it - a new computer desk! It’s a great 3-piece deal for just $150. We thought I’d have to spend a good $250 or so on anything decent.

Let me go in order of events, though. I slept till around 10:00 today, then we were off to the grocery store for a few non-perishable items, then to Staples. This Staples didn’t have this model in whitewash, so the guy called another Staples 15 minutes away and had one reserved for us. The first Staples was offering a free chair with that model. I told Tom I’d still settle for light brown so we didn’t have to be out running around all day, but he said it’d be no problem going to this other Staples. No trouble my ass! The fucking parking lot was a total nightmare and the hordes of people we horrid! It took forever to get there, then to park, then to get the damn desk and the chair too, since this store tried claiming they knew nothing about it. Then after two salesclerks were on the phone with the Staples we came from for an eternity, we finally got the damn desk and chair.

Then it was off to fight tooth and nail to get out of the parking lot. This one smart-ass cock was walking so slow in front of the car, pissing me off, and getting pissed off doing it, that I was prepared to fight if need be and I didn’t give a fuck how big he was. The fortunate little shit walked away, though, without provoking me and forcing me to kick ass. Lucky little bastard!

We also went to a sporting store where Tom ran in to get toilet chemicals while I sat in the car. It took him forever.

We grabbed me some Chinese take-out, got some gas, then we finally came back to the house.

The computer desk has a printer and a file cart. It’s great and I have good space, too. All the more it’ll inspire me to write. We put it together using a super bright halogen light run by the generator.

Later…

Well, we’re getting a little taste of the city now. God just won’t let me live in peace. I just have to listen to other people’s shit.

When I first heard the music I automatically thought - here we go. The renters are ready to announce themselves and make their presence known. We drove by them today. Although there are curtains in the window of the one closest to us, it still looks deserted. We didn’t see any people, but there was an old, Mexican-looking car by the other one with a big dog chained in front that may’ve been a St. Bernard.

It wasn’t the renter’s music, though. It’s coming from the north, opposite next door. It sounded like it may’ve been country music, and it was coming from a house, not a car. Fortunately, it couldn’t be heard at all in the house. Not till the parties get closer and louder. It was quite a party, though, setting off tons of dogs in the area by it. I thought they weren’t supposed to do this out here! Tom said that people are bound to have parties during the holidays. Yeah, but there are holidays every other week. Can anybody anywhere keep their damn parties to themselves? It may be Saturday night, but isn’t it a little too soon for a Christmas party? I can’t believe this fucking shit, though! Everywhere I go, everywhere, I have to be forced to listen to other people’s noise! It fucking never ends! Even out here I’m gonna have to listen to other people’s music. Why oh why God can’t you just let me live in peace! Why this obsession?! Well, this decade’s not out yet, but it will be soon enough. Then he can decide whether or not to keep sticking people’s noise on me or do something else to me for the next decade.

I’m out in the middle of fucking nowhere yet I still listen to other people’s music! All I hear is bass, though, and I’m really starting to believe it’s a live band. I’ll bet you anything that if we were in that house, God would make sure it was loud enough to hear in there. I can’t hear it with an earplug in the good ear or when the trailer heater runs, so thank God for at least that much, cuz these things certainly would’ve been utterly useless in Phoenix against car stereos.

Still, holidays or not, Saturday night or not, I thought people out here kept their noise for their ears only. They must be renters, and surprisingly, they aren’t scarce around here. I’ve seen lots of signs advertising houses for rent.

Anyway, it doesn’t look like we’ll be getting den tables from Heilig-Meyers cuz they just don’t have any others as cheap as those other ones, and they don’t have a great selection. Since we still have about $50 of credit with them, I’ll at least grab a decoration of some kind.

Speaking of decorations, I picked up 6 new gorgeous pictures at Fred Meyer. They all came to only $50 cuz I bought them frameless. They’re mounted on cardboard and wrapped in plastic.

One may be from some sort of play. It’s called The Accolade, but I never heard of it and don’t know what it means. There is a lady and a man dressed in fancy, old-fashioned clothes, and they seem to be involved in some sort of ceremony. The guy’s kneeling in front of the woman and the woman has a sword lying on the guy’s shoulder. The woman has beautiful long hair, so that’s what attracted me to this picture.

There are two pictures of kids. One is of little girl ballerinas in soft pastel colors and the other is of a boy and girl from behind who are holding hands. “Friends Forever,” it says.

I got a long, skinny picture with puppies amongst pots of purple flowers, a field of purple flowers with a mountain behind it, and another long, skinny one of a beach with palm trees in Tahiti.

I have never written about Janette yet. She’s an older woman who works with Tom and she got in an accident by slamming into a median, so she called Tom to go help her. There was nothing he could really do for her (this was Friday after work), but calm her down till she reoriented herself. The poor woman’s airbag came out and bonked her upside the head, her motor fell out to the ground, and now her insurance rates will go up.

Well, I want to listen to my music now, so I’m gonna unplug and see if they’re still carrying on.

Later…

From the sound of it, they’ve shut up for the night. I took my Melatonin for the night and will be crashing soon. Tom, of course, is crashing in the house. He can stand to sleep in the house under a blanket, and all he has to do to pee is whip it out and squirt it out the door. He doesn’t need any toilet paper. I’m glad he can deal with sleeping over there with no problem since that way I can be free of his shaking the trailer and since I prefer easier access to toilets.

They left their well drilling rig here over the weekend, so I hope that means they’ll be in a hurry to get out here Monday and finish the job so they can take the rig back.

Tom was pretty nervous for a while before they hit water as they did at 545’. The guy said he brought enough piping for 680’ and that on Hidden Valley Road, right around the corner, he had to drill 785’ before hitting water! That’s deep.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1999
In the trailer…

Just when I was admiring how quiet the dogs have been, next door’s dog takes off on a half-hour fit. It didn’t start barking till 10:00, though, and at least the dogs around here, when they do bark, don’t bark much during the day.

Haven’t heard anything else around here yet. A good 99% of the time it’s quiet. Finally! Yeah, but this peace I’ve been dreaming of and fighting for over the last 8 years is something I better enjoy while it lasts.

No Friday night stress like I had in the city! God how I hated weekends on N. 21 Ave.! I can just imagine how many cars are in front of next door! Those poor moochers. Wait till the summer when they’re outside gabbing from sunset to sunrise! It’s just a hell of a relief and a hell of a feeling to know that I no longer have to be forced to listen to and deal with those Mexicans!

I talked with Teresa on and off last night and it was fun. She enjoyed my company and I found her pleasant to chat with.

She looks and acts older than she is. I thought she was in her early 20s, but she’s only 18. She’s engaged and has a 2-year-old. Figures, huh? At just 18? Truthfully, though, if anyone had to be a teenage mom, I’d hope it’d be her. She’s so intelligent and with it for her age. She’s your classic mom looks-wise cuz she’s huge. She says she doesn’t care that she’s big. I envy her attitude.

She was shocked to learn I’m 34. She thought I was around 27.

According to the computer, last night was our 17th night there. That’s scary. And that doesn’t count the days we spent at the La Quinta, the Holiday, Hampton, Red Roof, or the Southgate.

Well, no place is perfect, but the Fairfield is definitely my favorite.

I bought us some chips and shared some cookies and soda with her. She gave me a bag of hard candy.

She might let me steal this fake green leafy tree that’s been cramped behind a cabinet-like thing for a while. She’s gonna get a feel for if her boss would miss it or not, I guess, then let me know Sunday night whether or not I can whisk it out.

She also was cracking up over some jokes I was telling her, which she repeated to her mom and stepdad.

I told her that if all went well, she’d never see me again after next Tuesday. That’s not what she wants, she said, and I gave her our cell phone number. She knows and understands, though, how much we want to get in that house.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 16, 1999
We extended our hotel stay for three days in a row, with tonight being the last night, to make it easier on us.

They were at 200’ with the well Tuesday and at 400’ yesterday, so they may finish up today. Meanwhile, Tom’s gonna jump on the phone to push for Gravity to get his fat ass out to finish his job, so we can get in by Christmas and not have to wait a month in between jobs. Before, it’d seem like a month would pass after each job they did, be it the septic, the skirting, APS stringing the electric, etc. If these people want to get paid, they’ll finish their job cuz as it is, they’re not getting full payment. Not with all the delays they’re not.

Well, last night was the 5th quiet hotel night in a row. Hopefully, that’s a good sign, and maybe God will give us a break for a change and let us into our home by Christmas like I prayed for. The bulk of my prayers go unanswered, though, as you know, so we’ll see.

I called Andy last night and the night before, but I think I’m gonna call it quits with calling him. All he does is either say nothing or quote lyrics and it’s really quite boring. I’m done with him. I have nothing to say to him. And there’s nothing he can say to me that’s worth hearing.

I thought of Andy after I smelled pot a few times out at the house. Can you believe it?! Even Tom smelled it. If it isn’t pot we smelled a few different times, then it’s something that really resembles it closely. We couldn’t tell where it was coming from, although we doubt it came from Dan or next door due to the direction of the wind Dan and next door our south, the rentals are west, and the smell came from the north.

On our first night here, I sat down to listen to music and turned all the lights off. I then noticed these dots of light on the wall and couldn’t figure out what was causing them. When I turned the lights on, though, I could see there were little glow-in-the-dark star stickers stuck to the wall. I took them to the house and put them in my office.

I haven’t said anything to Tom yet, although I’ve mentioned it before, cuz I wanted to see if he’d notice. So far he hasn’t. I swapped my old nicotine-stained lampshade that goes to the bedroom wall lamp, with one of their wall lampshades here. Mine was only slightly bigger than theirs and shouldn’t be noticeable to anyone who’s not looking for it. Eventually, when it comes time to replace the fluorescent bulb, they may see that the lampshade’s rather dingy looking and replace it. By then we should be long gone and they shouldn’t have a clue as to who made the swap. They may never even know it was a swap, but just a lampshade that got dirty.

Also, I filled those three jar lamps. I could’ve put a Barbie in the big one, but she would’ve been standing funny, so I put flowers in and it looks great. Even Tom says it’s way cool and looks like I bought it that way. I didn’t get as lucky with the two smaller ones cuz most of my flowers were either too old and frayed that I threw them out. So I put beads and pieces of turquoise in one, and an assortment of jewelry in the other.

Yesterday I thought I was getting a cold cuz I had a sore throat, but I’m fine today. Nonetheless, I took the day off and let Tom go straight to the house from work by himself. I hope he doesn’t return with any bad news of any kind. We don’t need it! I have a good vibe for the 20th and a somewhat good one for the 23rd, too.

Poor Tom’s only had four hours of sleep the last two days. I hope he can catch up on at least some of it. He said he’d be in between 1:00-4:00. A part of me wishes I’d gone with him today, cuz I’m sort of bored here.

I automatically awoke at 8:30. Guess I’ve developed a bit of a built-in alarm clock.

I’ve written and listened to music, so I guess I’ll read now.

Later…

If only I’d written down that black bitch’s number before we got the trailer! I could’ve called to confirm whether or not she really got my mail. It’s a little late for that now, anyway, though. She and her cock oughta be out of town now like they always were before Christmas and just after the New Year.

I can’t call the Mexicans for confirmation not knowing their name, not that they’d necessarily be listed. I can’t believe that I never got a piece of their mail and learned their name during the four months I was stuck with them.

I can’t seem to get myself to read right now. I’m in more of a writing mood, although I don’t know what else to say at this time. Just the same thing I’ve been saying for months and what seems like years - I want in that house! I want in now! No, I want in more like yesterday!

I’ve gotten a few wall decorations up, but it’d help if I had my box of nails. They must be in mini storage. All I’ve got is my big toolbox which does have some nails, but mainly screws.

Tom and I were a fool to think I’d run out of doll or wall space. I’ve got plenty of room left for dolls, but that’s mainly cuz 12 of them ended up on top of kitchen cabinets and a few on the counters. I could use some more pictures for the walls. The wall space in there is endless!

I wish Tom would hurry back!

Later…

We hit water today at 545’! Tom said there was water gushing everywhere. He says he also has reason to believe we will be in by Christmas according to how everyone’s acting. Well, this goes with my vibes, which I told him about. He said the 20th is when a pump is supposed to be put on the well, and the house should be inspected on the 23rd which could explain why I had good vibes for those dates.

Also, he got a $750 bonus at work for being such a good worker. After taxes are deducted, though, it’ll only be about $450, but hey, that’s the cost of about 8 hotel nights.

He said he was feeling so well and that he wanted the good luck to continue, so he almost stopped at the casino but was too tired. I’ll bet! At least he’s asleep now and will be able to get nearly 8 hours.

They took the storage bin back today.

I forgot to mention this “witching” crap the well driller went through before beginning the drilling. Talk about putting on a show! With a brass rod that looked like an L-shaped coat hanger, he walked around the property claiming that the more it moved to the side, the more there was water pooled in that area. What a bunch of superstitious bullshit! Yeah, right, and if I walk around with a tree branch that happens to swing to the side magically on its own, does that mean there’s gold under me? He had to have consciously moved the rod, cuz you could hit water pretty much anywhere in that area. That was obvious with all the wells on the farms around there.

I said hi to Teresa, who was totally bored and told her about hitting water. Before I could ask her about stealing any plants, she got a phone call.

Tom hasn’t noticed the swapped lampshade. I told the maid we didn’t need her services today. Not cuz I feared she’d notice the switch either, but because we’re all set till we leave tomorrow.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1999
Today was both hectic and productive.

It was hectic hurrying to set up the new shed and empty the storage bin before dark (they’re supposed to pick up the bin tomorrow).

It was productive cuz the Goddamn well driller finally showed up! It was cool to watch them work and I intend to take some pictures tomorrow. They left the rig on the land and left in a pickup.

The question is are we gonna have to wait forever for Gravity, or someone, to hook it up and fill in the septic so we can then call APS to finish their part and get the county out to inspect?

Tom made it clear to Steven that we know all this delay is his fault and that we regret using him. Steven had an excuse for everything, but Tom had an answer for everything, too. For example, Steven tried to convince Tom that despite the delay, we were saving money on a cheaper driller. But we’re not, as Tom told him. The hotel costs are making up for that so we may as well have gotten an expensive driller who was reliable and who would’ve been on-site as promised.

I said hello to Teresa when we got here, then took a much-needed shower to get all the dust off me.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1999
Was sitting at the breakfast bar earlier.

We’re still pretty stressed out over things taking forever to happen. Not that I’m in the mood for sex myself what with all his excuses, but I was shocked to hear him say he was too stressed out for sex. Don’t get me wrong - everything turns him off. It’s just that once again, Tom’s anything but your typical male. Most people would want to have sex during stressful times cuz it eases stress. People tend to turn towards things they like and things that relax them and make them feel good when they’re stressed out. I lose my appetite for food when I’m feeling down in any way, but I tend to do more other things. Especially listening to music.

Tom’s level of optimism is so unrealistic that it pisses me off. He’s too hopeful. He’s still hoping for a well, saying there’s a good chance the driller will be here tomorrow, but I just don’t see it. Why would he suddenly decide to show up now after all this time?

Tom bitched to the loan people and he says that there’s a damn good chance they’ll sue Steven and his fucked up associates if they don’t have their work done by the 24th, but I doubt it.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1999
We’re at the Fairfield now, although he’s gone to work. This time we’re in the same suite that was left open the night I popped popcorn in its microwave. It’s nice having the micro, and I just slipped downstairs for about ten packets of hot chocolate, ten spoons, and five cups, not that I’ll have more than 2-3 cups tonight. Yes, this is definitely my favorite hotel, even though I wish we never had to return after tonight.

I did laundry earlier and found that Teresa wasn’t working tonight.

I placed one call to Andy earlier too, but he was on the phone cuz it only rang once before his machine came on. I left him a hang-up, and you know, I thought about it and realized something - he probably can’t get a hotel number after all. Not unless it was a call from their main line, but extensions should come up as unavailable, the more I think about it, on both caller ID boxes and last number calls.

After he gets out of work, he’s gonna go get a shed. They’re coming to pick up the storage bin on Wednesday. Then all we’ll have is our stuff in mini storage to get out.

Just when I thought my slow-starting period was over, I had wicked cramps, so I popped ibuprofen.

Last night at around 9 PM I heard a series of gunshots, the second-worst thing you’d hear out there besides dogs. Well, they certainly weren’t hunting at that hour, so I guess they were shooting stray dogs or coyotes away from their chicken coops.

Tom and I discussed getting a gun with a laser line-up when we get the horses.

I love seeing roadrunners. They’re so cute, and they sure are fast!

There still haven’t been any noise problems in back, and I know they can’t be living there full-time yet. Not only cuz it’s too quiet for anyone to be living there, but because I only see their outside light on at night and no other lights. It’s just too dark for anyone to be living there, quiet or not.

Later…

Although I already feel much better, thank God, the last two days weren’t the least bit pleasant.

First, though, since I’m obviously gonna finish this book before we move in the house, I’m gonna use either journal #77 or #160 to finish out our trailer/hotel stay, cuz they have blank pages.

Tom says I’ll feel better by Friday cuz Friday we should have a handle on what’s going on with the house. That goes with my vibes. I feel that yes, we’ll know more of what the fuck’s going on this week and maybe even be able to pinpoint a move-in date. But luckily for me, as I said a moment ago, I’m already feeling better. For a couple of days, I was not only beat and run down to the point that I could’ve easily slept 16 hours, but I was depressed, too. I was so scared too, cuz it was over the two issues that I spent about 5 years being depressed over, and I began to fear I’d be slipping back in time, depressed regularly. I feared God was gonna compensate me for the house/land by having me be depressed over old issues, but nah. I don’t think he’ll do that to me. He couldn’t be that mean, could he? Let’s hope not!

The first issue took me a while to figure out, but the second one still has me confused.

Issue one - the realization that neither of us has made any attempt to have sex in the last three weeks or so, was rather sad. It shows that due to how long we’ve been together, the love’s grown, but the lust has died. I really think this is why he’s been complimenting my looks too, to cover for his lack of being turned on.

I also realized it’s not the infrequent sex that gets me down and frustrated; it’s the damn lies and excuses. Always the lies and excuses! He just can’t come clean, be honest, be himself, and quit bullshitting me. He is how he is, so why he has to come out and make such bullshit comments like “Sex will be fine for making babies once we get settled in the house,” beats me and it really bothers me. Who does he think he’s kidding? Himself? Me? Not me. Certainly not me. But why oh why does he keep on, year after year, saying he’s gonna be someone he isn’t? It isn’t in him to have full-time sex and to cum regularly. He doesn’t even want to. Instead, he says he’s gonna do shit he’s not gonna do, then makes excuses. Nine of out ten times, as soon as he’s about to cum, he quits and makes excuses. He’s always got a problem. A cramp, an ache, a pain, a cold, exhaustion, etc. I’m so sick of it and he’s being so damn obvious. This is more than fear of making the baby he believes I can conceive. This is someone who’s just not into it and just not very attracted to me. But why can’t he just be honest and not do things he’s uncomfortable about, rather than attempt them just to back out scared, or cuz he just can’t get into it, then pummel me with excuses? Fine - don’t screw me but once or twice a month. And fine - don’t cum but once a year. But by God - cut the bullshit lies and excuses!

Issue two - this is the confusing one. How do you want something you know you don’t want? I know I don’t want a kid. I just don’t want to live that lifestyle. I don’t want to trade in dolls for diapers and deal with all a child entails; the stress, burden, responsibility, cost, loss of freedom, etc. I don’t want the tremendous strain it’d put on our marriage. We’d only bicker over it and then we really wouldn’t have a life or much time together.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but wonder about it. I’m so curious about this thing I can never have, but I know that want it or not, I can never have it and I could never handle it. If it was meant to be, it would’ve been by now - naturally. It’s better to always remain curious about what it’d have been like to carry/have a child than to live out those experiences and deal with the misery it’d bring. After my curiosity was settled, I’d have only been overwhelmed and miserable for years and years. I have no tolerance or patience for kids.

No amount of sex or in vitro could ever lead to a kid. It ain’t in my cards, but despite my curiosity and how it sometimes gets me down that God didn’t give me the free will to decide about having kids, his making a child not a part of my destiny is a damn good thing for me. Probably the best thing next to making Tom a part of my life/destiny. Having a life and having the freedom that I do is exactly what I need. Things turned out for the best and I’m glad they turned out as they did.

I forgot to say that as for the sex - I have no desire to get what I’m not getting in the marriage with another woman, but I am getting more and more turned off and am losing interest more and more with each passing year. His lack of enthusiasm and his constant excuses really kill my drive.

So what am I gonna do? The only thing I can do - put up with his excuses when we screw every few weeks, and accept that I can never have a child, want one or not, under any circumstances, no matter how advanced technology is.

For a while, I didn’t want to discuss it cuz I’ve learned it’s useless to discuss the things we can’t change and I didn’t want to bicker about it or have him BS me in any way, but I finally agreed to spill it out after he promised not to talk so as to avoid fighting. He knows I don’t want to hear the same BS he’s been telling me for six years now - that he wants to screw full-time, that we will screw full-time, that he will cum regularly, and that I’ll magically conceive someday when I know damn good and well that this is all bullshit. These things can’t and won’t happen. Fine. I accept it and am OK with it. What I’m not OK with are his lies and excuses.

He kept his promise and quietly let me bitch, but was that a look of boredom on his face I saw? A look of not-this-shit-again? Even a pleased look? Why do I feel that the more I’m turned off, the more he’s turned on?

He explained to me that it’s normal for everyone to have cycles of happiness and depression and that certain issues only seem to be getting me down when all it really is is just a case of me being down. It wouldn’t depress you if I died? I asked him. Yes, he said, but if I died during a happier cycle of his, it wouldn’t affect him as deeply as it would if I died during a shitty time for him when he was already feeling down.

Well, I just pray to God that I never ever go through years of wanting a child again! I don’t ever want to want a child!!!!! Ever! For a woman to go through years of depression over that is practically inhumane.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1999
I’m writing for the first time in the house at the bar on one of our new stools. I’m rapidly losing light, though, so I’m gonna head to the trailer. Tom’s bundled up asleep on the couch here.

We may still not have water and electricity, but we have steps! Three sets, rather than the two we thought we were gonna get, although for a while there, I was beginning to think we were gonna have to get steps ourselves, but luckily, it’s one less thing we have to do.

The steps are ugly, but we don’t care. We’ve got them and they’re functional and that’s what matters! I just wish we’d gotten them sooner. They’re wooden steps with a reddish tint. They each have a matching wooden rail to one side, and I managed to hang my three biggest wind chimes off each of the three sets of stair railings. Using a hoe to raise it high enough, I put an old, broken wind chime up in one of our old ugly mesquite trees that’s sort of between the house and trailer. I put the little ones in a bush by the master bedroom side of the house.

Yesterday we got the kitchen set, stools, and spider lamp. They’re gorgeous. I sure do love contemporary-style furniture.

Today we went to the casino again, and unfortunately, my win vibe didn’t pan out. Maybe next time.

On the way back I saw a “Wild West” kind of sight. It was so southwestern and such a cool scene to see. A herd of beautiful wild horses was running alongside us as we were cruising down the freeway.

I got a little tub of homemade cookies from the grocery store, but they were hard. So Tom gave me a wonderful tip. He advised I put a piece of bread in the tub, and sure enough, it softened the cookies. The cookies sucked up the bread’s moisture.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 9, 1999
About an hour ago, we arrived here at the Fairfield. Teresa’s on tonight, and she put us in a more secluded room on the 3rd floor and says she’ll look out for us as far as who she puts where. She said all four of those rooms (so that was connected to the guy that came in requesting four rooms. I remember thinking to myself - that’s a lot of fucking kids)! Turned out to be scammers and she wishes she called the cops on them. They rang up their phone bills and stole everything out of the rooms. Yeah, I believe it. And I doubt very much they were retards coming for treatment. Why would they have to come here? They can get treatment anywhere. I think they were a bunch of Mexicans out for hand-me-outs, just like they usually are.

Another thing that annoys me when we stay in hotels is Tom and his goddamn TV. He and TV are like glue, and it’s hard for me to read or write with it going. I’m forced to listen to it too, and you know I hate TV with the same old, same old shit that’s always on. I looked at the HBO guide earlier and I swear that everything listed was the same old shit they’ve been running for the last decade.

Earlier, our kitchen set, stools, and spider lamp were delivered.

As I predicted about a month ago, we’re not getting a well. This fucking driller’s put us on hold and made his false promises long enough. We don’t know yet who’s gonna be filling in the septic, but I’m sure it’s gonna have to be us since no one seems to want to do anything for us. We are getting so fucked over and God’s so oblivious to it all, making me feel like he could care less, and always feeling like I have to pay dearly for all the things I get in life. He’s been totally ignorant of all my pleas for help, so now we’re on our own with no one to help us but ourselves. There’ll be no stairs, either like we were falsely promised.

Tom’s going to call the loan people about readjusting that, then we’ll get water and pressure tanks and begin hauling our own water. Once the tanks are in and inspected, we can fill in the septic, call APS to put a meter box out for us, then finish the stupid, sloppy, lazy Mexican’s jobs for them by fixing what they fucked up or half-assed within the house.

Then maybe, just maybe, God will give us our lives back and leave us alone to live in peace, but I won’t hold my breath. I’ve always believed that as long as God knows Tom’s with me, he’ll always run him ragged and keep him on the go so we don’t have time to do fun things together. And when we do, it’s only once every couple of weeks or so. I strongly feel that as soon as we’re in that house, his mother will become our daughter again and probably end up in the hospital, if not dead. Although, it’s too soon for her to die, from what I vibe. I think she’ll live till around next June-September, but if she’s still alive by then, then she may never die! Not for years yet, anyway. The doctors were obviously wrong in saying she had a terminal blood disease.

Later…

Tom fell asleep after turning off the TV to read for a while I read too, and decided I’d write some more. Perhaps I’ll go begin a letter to Paula.

First, though, I decided that as cute as those borders were, I think they’d be too much and make the place look really circus-like, so I’ve decided that I’ll eventually get a couple of murals that are 9’ tall and 6’ wide. A nighttime city scene for the bedroom and a beach with palm trees scene for my office.

Since there’s a damn good chance I’ll finish this book before we’re in the house, I’ll just get a regular notebook. I don’t have any room on my shelves for any more journals. Wait a minute! I’ve got plenty of room in #77. I was gonna use that up for journal charts back before I knew I was gonna be doing all my journaling on just the computer.

I went downstairs for coffee earlier and ended up chatting with Teresa for a few minutes when she came over to get some juice. She unlocked the orange juice and apple juice machine saying they weren’t supposed to use it (it’s for breakfast), but she was broke and thirsty. She offered me a cup, too.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1999
Tomorrow we’re expecting the kitchen set, the stools, and the spider lamp. That’s great, but when oh when are we ever gonna get water and electricity?!?! I keep insisting to Tom that we’re never gonna get a well, so we may as well start hauling water. We’ll probably have to fill in the septic ourselves too, which has been inspected and OK’d.

When the fuck are we ever gonna get those two sets of stairs we were promised? When the fuck are we ever gonna get in that damn house?!?!

Steven, who’s really lied to us and fucked us over “claims” he fired Hilda, then he swore he called the well driller, after swearing he didn’t know we’d been living in motels and got on his ass about getting us drilled, but even this cock’s a fucking liar. He said he’d drill the well “as soon as we got our permit.” God, how I hate people who say they’re gonna do something they don’t do!

It’s a real bitch stepping up on our little step ladder, then taking the gigantic step up into the house. You have to pull yourself up there.

In case I forgot to say - our AC is a ground-mounted unit, right outside the utility door.

I’m just so fucking sick of people screwing us over; being all talk and no action! I keep telling Tom he’s too soft-spoken with these people, then we argue over how my getting aggressive with these fucks will do us no good. It’s stressful and frustrating, even if my worst days since being out here are still fantastic compared to an average day back east, but still, I feel evil forces working against us, as well as blessed ones. It’s like first God’s with us by letting us sell our house so fast, even if we had expected to get out of there 4-6 months sooner than we did, and now, it’s like he’s teasing me with this house. I feel like this preparing to move and this trailer/hotel shit has been going on for years. Well, I mentally “prepared” to move six years ago, but still - when is this gonna end? I just want in the house! I try to remind myself how much worse things could be by remembering the past, and I tell myself to be glad that at least I have Tom and the house is here and at least we’re out of Phoenix, but I don’t feel gone half the time. Although I have a beautiful house and 10 gorgeous acres, God won’t let me out of the city! Every other day or two we have to go back so we can shower and once again - I’m stuck in the city! Stuck with all the noise and people. Stuck where everyone makes their business your business.

God really wants me to finish this decade with other people’s noise. It’s like the decade’s not out yet so he’s not finished with me yet. But what’s he gonna do next? What’s the next decade’s ongoing issue gonna be that’s gonna take 8-10 years to either go away on its own or for me to fix? Why must I pay so dearly for this house? Can’t I ever receive something without conditions? Why must I be punished and made to suffer just so I can live a normal life in this house and on this land (or as close to normal as God will allow and I’ll be happy with)?

There is some good news, although it’s not really good news, cuz it’s been cold, and cuz they just moved in, but behind us has still been quiet. Again, I don’t think they’re living here full-time anymore than we are.

What I’m trying to figure out, though - is all this being delayed from getting in the house, being screwed by Steven and his people, and having to play motel, punishment for leaving Phoenix and a house of noise? Compensation for getting the house/land? Or a sign of something good to come? Could we be going through all this hassle only to be soon compensated for something wonderful? Well, just getting in that fucking house would be wonderful enough!!!

Speaking of that house, I put some dolls up on top of the kitchen cabinets and they look really cool. I had to put them mainly on the cabinets towards the middle of the house where the ceiling’s high enough for them, cuz the ceiling’s just a few inches above the cabinets on the exterior wall.

Now that I know more about how dolls are made, I was able to fix some arms and legs that I thought were defective or just the way they were. Take Maria, for example. Well, I didn’t know she could be a sitting doll like Bailey, but she can and she is now and she looks so much better. Before, she had an odd pose and was neither a sitting doll nor a standing doll, but more like a leaning doll that was very pigeon-toed.

I repositioned Angel and Lollipop’s arms.

I can’t wait to get back to the casino. We’re gonna win the next time, too. I just know it. How interesting for me to vibe this before going there. Usually, I don’t sense if we’ll win or lose until we arrive at the casino. It won’t be millions, but it’ll be more than a few bucks.

Gosh, I didn’t think I could get in such a writing mood with all the shuffling around and with all the BS I’ve been through, but I guess after not writing nearly as much as I usually do and have been wanting to do it caught up to me.

It hasn’t rained since late August-early September and they say our first rain in months is due to hit this weekend. Can’t wait to check out the wash during a rainstorm. Tom thinks it’ll be a doozy too, and it oughta be neat to see a little river cascade through our land.

If you ask me personally, I’m glad the weather’s been like it’s been in light of our circumstances. This way I’m not sweating my ass off as I go back and forth to the trailer/house, and while I work in the house. It also keeps dogs quieter and flies, moths, and other flying bugs to a minimum.

We finally met our neighbors to our left. Well, he did. I was in the house and didn’t even know they’d met (that’s how big our property is)! Till he told me about it. As we were driving in earlier, we noticed five huge dogs by their shacks which were a bit scary. To say there are a lot of loose dogs around here is an understatement. Anyway, they drove up to the trailer to talk to Tom and they asked if they were our dogs. First, the grandmother introduced herself, her daughter, and her grandson. (I forgot if he said the son-in-law was present). So he told them we’d seen them, and she said they killed a chicken of theirs, but that by the time she grabbed her gun, they were gone (too bad!).

He said she looked white, but the kid and daughter may be Mex. Or did he say the kid’s father? Anyway, it figures. It really figures. He did say they seemed like nice people, though, and we’re glad to have met them since we were both curious, but what would they have done if he’d said they were our dogs? Shoot us?

I guess I’m not gonna be hearing about Joeshit’s and the H’s letters, but I kind of figured as much deep down. What could I hear about them?

I called Andy twice from the Southgate, but the first time I dropped the damn phone and never heard what he was saying so I just hung it up in the middle of his babbling. When I called back, he picked up and said, “Rock and roll star you are,” and I hung up.

Speaking of the Southgate - it was not peaceful like the first two times we were there. It was just like a regular hotel with hallways. There was a lot of banging, and while it wasn’t chock full, it wasn’t as dead as usual, either. Some little shit slammed its door nearly on and off till late at night. Amazingly, I slept straight through from midnight till 8:00 like I did, although at 8:15 the banging started up again. The housekeeper was the cause of some of it. We left before they could begin to pester us to clean the room. As I said, Do Not Disturb signs are useless out here. If they can’t go to your door, they call you and bug you by phone.

Anyway, right after Tom left at 11:00 for work, I called the nearby rooms that were occupied, knowing one or both of them had to be doing the banging. There was no one to our right, but there was to our left and below. I called below first and said, “Stop slamming that door!”

“What?” said the middle-aged to older guy in such a stunned voice.

“Sit down, shut up, and quit slamming doors,” I said and hung up.

As soon as the cock to my left answered, I said the same thing. As soon as I finished, I hung up after hearing him say, “Who the f…”

I obviously really scared the shit out of them cuz they wouldn’t answer in the morning yet their cars were still there.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1999
I just knew today would be a good one. I had good vibes for this day for a week or two. We spontaneously stopped in the casino to try out their buffet (at least I knew I could be guaranteed no screaming kids in there!). Then we gambled and he won about $40 and me $30. I psyched out winning machines and then sensed it when I could win no more. I always sense it and know when I’m gonna win/lose. For $38 (there’s no tax on the reservation) I got a cute little 14” brown-haired, brown-eyed ballerina in a blue satin dress with white stiff netting. Her hair is to her waist and is a cross between wavy and curly. She came with no stand and no name so I named her Linda. She’s very similar to my Christina doll, but rather than having lace-up toe slippers, she’s barefoot. I plan to polish her toenails. As my shit doll luck would have it, I have to glue on a couple of flowers that fell off the ribbons that go around her ankles, as well as her fairy wings. She has a halo of blue flowers around the crown of her head.

For $14 I got an Arizona T-shirt with cactuses with a shiny gold border on a deep magenta background.

At the buffet, they had some Chinese food. As always, I grabbed a fortune cookie, and with it came a rather ominous message that says: Children’s laughter, so beautiful to hear, soon will be a chance to have them very near.

No thanks! Their laughter is not so beautiful to hear and I don’t want a chance to have them very near. I’d had them very near for nearly a decade now, which is more than enough, thank you. I’m not worried, though. I know God has other plans for me in life and that kid(s) is not in my destiny. I may’ve been wrong about marriage, quitting smoking, etc., but I know I’m not wrong about this, even though Tom feels it’s inevitable just like he did with the smoking.

Last Sunday, after unpacking several boxes, we went and stayed at the Fairfield (I did our laundry, too). Teresa wasn’t working, but Kim, another one we’ve gotten to know (we know the whole staff), was kind enough not to put anyone near us. I explained what happened the last time, and asked that she please be selective about who she puts near us if she could help it. We ended up being on the 3rd floor for the first time in this place, right in the very room those wild animals were in. It had a really cool 20’ high ceiling which made sounds echo. No wonder they were so damn loud. Anyway, it turned out to be their best room yet. I never heard one sound all night.

We’re at the Southgate now.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1999
My 34th birthday, which was yesterday, wasn’t pleasant for the most part, but neither are most of my birthdays. I don’t know if it was my gut instinct or just logic, but somehow I knew he’d be tense and moody. I feel like he uses my birthdays to take out any negative feelings he’s ever had towards me. What’s he gonna do when his birthday rolls around? Bait me into a fight so he can feel like he has an excuse to “get me back” on my next birthday? Well if I’m right about what he’s been up to - it’s childish and getting very old.

Before I continue - I’ve been up since 6:30 and haven’t had a bite to eat all day! Yeah, but I’m gonna have a bag of popcorn later.

Anyway, on my birthday, we went to the grocery store, to get the 13 dolls I had in mini storage, and to those southwestern shops in Scottsdale. They had a fairly decent-sized Indian doll for just $50 and lots of beautiful knickknacks. For my birthday, he got me a beautiful vase with cactuses and gold lines threading through it.

Our stay at the Southgate was quiet, but what is it with these housekeepers calling to see if you’ve checked out yet? Shouldn’t they have this information in their charts?

Let me cover the shit that went down last week at the Fairfield and get that out of my system. It was 9:00 and I was just about to settle in to watch a new movie when all of a sudden, I heard a ton of banging and kids giggling. At first I thought it was coming from next to us, but Teresa, a nice girl who works here, said it couldn’t be after she talked to him. It was just one older guy. Back in our room a little later, Tom had woken up and said it sounded like it was coming from above us on the 3rd floor. So I called down to Teresa, and sure enough, there were four kids up there, and these people had already been complained of and moved before. That’s right God - stick ‘em on top of me! Why does he always stick them on me in fours? Four NHA monsters, four Mormonettes, etc.

Teresa had to call them twice to get them to shut up, and they were quiet for a while till they woke me up at midnight. This was the final straw. I called downstairs and this time, the guy whom I bitched to about that old biddy answered and I told him that they had to go and that I wanted the cops called and that I wanted them out. He said OK, and they obviously were really booted out, cuz there wasn’t a sound after that.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 3, 1999
It has become absolutely freezing! It not only was just 50-something degrees today, but it was also incredibly windy. However, since it became wintry, the barking has lessened so much that at sundown you hardly hear anything at all. Well, we’ll definitely be in the house long before the weather’s comfortable enough for them to go off for a few hours in the evenings.

I still have yet to write about all the noise I had to put up with at the Fairfield, but let’s just say that this time around, I had them thrown out. I’ll write about it later, but first, the Southgate was again dead and quiet. We’re at the trailer now, though.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1999
We’re at the Southgate motel now, after I swore Tuesday night I’d never stay at a hotel/motel again. I’m only here cuz Tom’s still got a cold, although he told me he’d be OK either way. That’s sweet of him, and I know how flexible he is, but still, I thought he deserved the comfort of a real bed and a real bathroom.

This room we got is also on the 2nd floor, but we got two doubles instead of a king, and it doesn’t have a microwave and a fridge.

Boy, am I the opposite of how I was those last couple of years back East healthwise. Back then, I’d just look at someone with a cold and catch it, but now, even if I’m confined in small spaces with someone with a cold, and even if I share their drink with them, as I did with Tom, I still don’t catch colds! I’d have definitely gotten it by now if I were gonna get it. The only thing I have is the usual tightness God’s forever cursed me with, although it’s improved since leaving Phoenix, and will continue to improve once we don’t have to drive through it as much when we get in that house once and for all! I did tell Tom from the get-go, though, that I vibed us not being able to move in till between my b-day and Christmas. When we went to make our first house payment, we were happy to hear that the loan people have refused to pay Steven and his associates a dime, cuz the work hasn’t been completed yet. They now have a 12/24 deadline, or else! We totally regret using Steven (we used him cuz we knew we’d lower our monthly payments by avoiding buying the house directly), although anyone you hire is gonna fuck up in one way or the other. People are just too damn stupid. We’re still fighting tooth and nail trying to get the well driller out there, and God only knows the story with APS, although Kathy, whom we’ve been dealing with, came out and replaced our red tag with a green one.

When we arrived at the land yesterday, we were pleased to see the dumb shit driving our storage big finally found our place after three phone calls asking for directions and were even more pleased to find our stuff intact! I was really sure that a lot of stuff would be smashed with the way they tip the bin. Tom packed it well.

We also got the bedroom and living room set delivered yesterday, too. The living room set came first. I had to send back the three tables cuz they were bent and broken, but as it turns out - I’m glad they were! In this particular room, three tables would’ve been too much. Especially with as monstrous as the sofa, loveseat, and chair were, which I’d forgotten. The chair’s almost as wide as a loveseat, the loveseat is nearly as long as a couch, and the couch is a couch and a half!

So, we’ll be going back there to select just two tables. One big one to serve the couch and loveseat and a small one to put by the chair. I have the chair against the utility wall, the couch in front of the windows, and the love seat sticks out facing the chair with its back by the kitchen in front of the bar and entryway. It fits nicely, though, without blocking our path.

The bedroom furniture people arrived while the people with the living room stuff were still there, so Tom had the bedroom stuff plopped down. The living room guy offered to give us a hand which we didn’t but should’ve taken him up on, cuz it was a bitch to get up in there, and they rudely used us as a dumping ground. I didn’t see it till it was too late, but they left a big empty box out front.

Anyway, we managed to get the dresser and nightstand in. They look great, too!

At first, when I looked at our very black living room furniture against the blue carpet and the whitewash and the tulips and everything combined, I thought it didn’t look as good as I thought it’d look and wondered if it would’ve looked better with a light-colored fabric, but black really does go with everything even if it’s dramatically darker than everything else around it, and it’s so dazzling and so comfy!

We were scheduled to have the dining room set, stools, and spider lamp delivered today, but they wouldn’t have been able to bring it out till after we were planning on leaving, so he called and rescheduled it for next Thursday.

We stopped at Walgreens on our way here and I got a picture frame in a water globe with glittery stuff that floats around. They call it a waterfall photo frame.

I also got some nail art kits. I decided I don’t want some of the decals I got so I’m enclosing that, and glitter from a vial of glitter that’ll make a hell of a mess, in the black bitch’s final piece of mail from me. Yeah, I thought she could use one more wacky, you-had-a-lot-of-nerve-to-do-the-things-you-did kind of letter. I figured I oughta use my nice stationery some more, and that’s why the moochers that bought our old house are gonna hear from me too, but they should’ve gotten their letter by now. The other reason I wanted to come here, besides allowing him to be more comfortable, was so I could mail the Mexican’s mail without his knowledge. The H’s letter implies I’m the next-door neighbor, but I don’t come out and give any specific identity. I start with bitching about all their barking dogs, scold them for vandalizing our place, then weird out on them with the senseless mumbo-jumbo.

---

Last updated June 24, 2024