September 2002 in 2000s

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 2002
Tom gave me an old blue yo-yo in which Joy’s hands are perfect. I shortened it to a height suitable for a doll her size, using rubber bands to keep it from unwinding all the way. She looks really cool with it dangling from her dipped middle finger.

Got in one of my pranksterish moods and sent journal excerpts to about 5 people trying to download MP3s from me. Just one sentence from 1996 about going to the mall and getting red lipstick and blue nail polish. A couple responded, assuming I sent it to them by mistake. This was at midnight, and I was amazed to find that one was in Australia where it was 4:30 in the afternoon, and one was in Germany where it was 9:00 in the morning.

I finally got to cross something off our list today. Tom saw a commercial for a regular sewing machine that was newer and lightweight compared to the old one we have for $15. When you order that, you get a free hand-held sewing machine that includes 100 spools of threads, plus some bobbins. With the way our shit breaks, we paid the $6 for a 3-year warranty, but passed on the $6 adapter, cuz he either has one I could use or can get one cheaper. Meanwhile, it runs on batteries, too.

So I guess I really am going to get into sewing. I’m going to get not only material that’s of my taste, but closures like Velcro, zippers, etc., plus patterns. I have a lot to learn, but it may be fun and well worth it if I ever do make dolls. Even if I don’t make dolls, and I doubt I will, though Tom still thinks so. He’s a die-hard optimist. Look who’s been right so far about the stock predictions and not having the truck by October. We may not even get the truck at all this year. Not at this rate. I didn’t have to be psychic to foresee this, though. All I had to do was keep in mind the kinds of things fate curses us with. We’re never going to be blessed financially, so to speak. We’re always going to be paycheck-to-paycheck people unless we do get rich off this place in a decade or so. And if we do, we gotta really watch our money so no one swindles us out of it.

I still have mixed emotions about Arizona. I don’t want to go back east, but I feel I’ve outgrown this state and it’s time to move on. It’ll be another 5-10 years, though, as long as no circumstances arise to cause us to leave sooner.

Still no Amelia or mail from Mary. Guess this means they either moved her or she just hasn’t been in a writing mood.

I got up just after noon today, so I don’t know if I’ll be reporting in the morning or the afternoon come Friday.

Tom was actually out for a couple of hours during prime time today and I was like, come on, come on. Show up now, Scot. Just let me say “no” even if it’s just once, but of course he wouldn’t dare. There’s no corner-cutting when it comes to these freeloaders.

Another 30 days and I’ll be bracing myself for yet another year with them very much a part of our lives. I feel like it’s never going to end, like they’re never going to go away!

All this time and no one’s given a damn. No one cared enough to help. A lot of people have told me that what I got wasn’t fair, and that’s all well and good, but these were people with no power to help me. Meanwhile, those with the power just sat back on their asses and did nothing to either reduce or wipe out my sentence entirely. Nobody said, “Guilty or not, racist or not, this isn’t right,” and intervened. Instead, their attitude’s been, who gives a damn if this nothing nobody got screwed over? It’s not our problem.

Tom said it’s mainly because of how racist the shit involved came across to anyone who might’ve had the means to help me, rather than if the sentence was just, even though it’s still not fair and is still no excuse to throw me in jail, then leave me on probation so long. In other words, because I hate certain types of people, no one cares that I got fucked over. It’s okay. I’d have to love everybody to get some help.

Damn right about that! I have a right to hate, like or love anyone I want to, and why the hell is society so damn concerned with who Jodi S likes/dislikes?

“But they are,” he told me. “They don’t like people who don’t like others.”

But that’s so fucked up! Next thing I know people who dislike the foods most people like are going to get thrown in jail! Why can’t we just be ourselves? I don’t try to make others be like me, so why can’t people just leave people the fuck alone? And who’s Tom kidding when he says people don’t like people who hate others? Everyone hates somebody for something, so what are they, hypocrites?

First it’s a control thing, then it’s a color thing. That’s what it always comes down to and people want everyone else to be just like them. A stranger in Ohio would be more concerned with my opinions and beliefs than with their own damn business. That’s the kind of society we live in. What’s going on in my life is more important than what’s going on with them. That’s why we have reporters that sit and write about people they don’t even know as if they knew them to a T and it was of dire importance to them and the rest of the world.

What a twisted world we live in! Look at Tanya Harding. She organized an actual assault yet she didn’t do any jail time. Why should she? Her victim was white, too. One can do so much to their own kind and get a slap on the wrist, but it takes so little to go down big time for someone not of your kind.

Basically, I have 3 things to worry about right now. I have to worry about dodging this class bullshit for another year. I have to worry about the black bitch or pigs pulling any more shit on me. And I have to worry about what the freeloader’s replacement will be. I mean, what will my next long-term problem be and what will it cost us? Will God bring it to the house, or will he kindly take me to it? I just hope to hell I get to stay home and that we don’t lose too much time and money over it, whoever it is, whatever it is. And I also hope to hell it doesn’t cause too much stress and arguments. There are no words to describe the hell the freeloaders have put me through. No words to describe the mental anguish and stress. They’ve come between Tom and I numerous times, causing tons of arguments and fights.

Oh, how I wish we could dump civilization altogether and live on a boat! Tom may not hate people the way I do, but he agrees with my general feelings as far as most people being controlling and incompetent.

In case the rest of the world is interested in knowing and wants to hate me all the more for hating something else, that’s instant mashed potatoes. How utterly boring! I should’ve known better than to get them. Tom will eat them, though. He’ll douse them with cheese or something.

He found an old pump he got back when he was considering making a water lamp and set it up in the aquarium to make sure it worked. So far so good. It’s bubbling away. The tentative plan is to buy an algae eater on Wednesday, then we’ll get a small group of both genders from Mary, probably over the weekend. If they live, then we may get more. They eat each other as a way of controlling their population, so that’s good. Wednesday, Tom will also pick up gravel, food, a filter, and a cover for the tank. We’ll get decorations some other time when I’ll be able to be there to pick them out.

It’s easy to tell the females apart from the males by their colors. I guess this means that, unlike some animals, they can see color. Hope they like the bright, colorful neon-colored gravel I told Tom to pick out over Mary and Dave’s dull white gravel with specs of blue!

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2002
This will be a first; only seeing Scot once in a month cuz of the other dude who sat in for him. I know it’ll still be September tomorrow if he comes, but I’m not answering him cuz I’ll be sleeping. Or trying to anyway.

Tom agreed that it’d be reasonable for him to keep lessening the visits, but we both also agree that “reasonable” doesn’t usually apply to this shit, so we’ll see. Still, reasonably speaking, if he came in October, he shouldn’t come back till January (just once, that is). Then his final visit should be around May. I know better than to count on that, though, after he skipped 3 months, then started coming by like crazy. Had it been any more often than it was from last January to March, I’d have been like, “Why don’t you just move in with us?”

It’ll be interesting to see his reaction if he ever does come by when I’m sleeping or when Tom’s out. What I wonder is if he’d get paranoid (if Tom’s car was here) or if he’d turn around and come right back within days. Well, he can get as paranoid as he wants cuz I’m not getting out of bed for a letter I’m supposed to have written more than half a decade ago, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let him paw through this place either. I’ll treat any pigs that decide to get toss-happy on us no different than if they were regular intruders. In a sense, that’s exactly what they would be, it’d just be in a legal form. There are legal forms of murder (execution), there are legal forms of stalking, extortion, harassment – you name it. But just cuz the law says it’s okay; no it’s not okay, and no I won’t just sit back and allow myself to be stepped on. I’m not taking any more shit from this state without putting up a fight first. Sometimes, even if we don’t want to, we really must resort to our fists. Because Tom begged me not to pummel the freeloaders with my fists and because I was dumb enough not to trust my instincts when it came to legally trying to battle the sick fucks, we’ve never ever fought back. Throughout this whole thing we’ve never fought back and therefore we sent the wrong message. Well, mark my words, either one of two things is going to happen if they pull any more shit on us. We’re either running or we’re fighting back, and if we stand and fight, I’ll fight any way that’s necessary to get these assholes off our backs, be it the legal way or not. But I am Jewish-looking and I am white. Therefore, we’d probably split.

I finished the 1995 file, but still have something like 1555 pages to go through.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 2002
I was right about Amelia not being here Friday or Saturday. I’m hoping she’ll come on Monday. If not, sometime next week. This one was out of stock so I shouldn’t be so cursed with her, though she wasn’t out of stock for very long from the time I made the order. We’ve got till the 4th before the 10 business days are up. With people being as stupid as they are, I wonder, did they ship her to Tempe? If so, would they forward her to Maricopa? If not, would they re-ship her to Maricopa or give us a refund?

Tom said he might extend the Tempe box mainly for the bill’s sake cuz of how changeovers normally take a few months to go through.

I was surprised not to get anything from Mary. I hope she didn’t take me bitching about the mail returns seriously. I think she knows better, though, than to think it’s her fault or that I blame her for it.

Could something I said in my journal have upset her? I don’t think so. Even if I did say something she disagreed with, she knows that I’m me, she’s her, and no two people agree on everything. She wouldn’t not like me, for example, if I decided fuchsia was an ugly color.

Maybe she was moved, though I doubt that too.

I wonder if Hope left yet.

She probably just hasn’t been in the mood to write, I’m sure. I hope not too many of my letters to her are on their way back. I’ve been sticking to the rules to a T, so unless it’s personal and someone’s decided to pick on me, I shouldn’t have anything coming back.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 2002
Yay, I’m off the freeloaders’ clock! My life officially belongs to me for the next 71 hours.

It’s so cool how fall is like spring in Arizona, with things blooming. The little yellow flowers are out on the bushes the lizards and prairie dogs hang out by which looks nice but attracts bees.

By the time the weekend’s out, I should be done proofreading the 1995 file. About half a year away from when the freeloaders come to join us. We got freeloadered in March of ’96.

Although I’m still seeing prairie dogs, I’m seeing a lot less of them, so I guess that’s a sign for sure that they’re getting ready to hibernate. They’re not as quick to get any food I throw out.

Tom said it doesn’t matter where he starts with the fences cuz it’s the posts (which people could drive through) that’ll take most of the time to do. Once the posts are all staked down, wrapping the fence around them will go real quick.

When, though? This year? Fucking September’s stock won’t even sell. I know I’m not going to be a dollmaker, but what did I expect? To suddenly do what I want with my life? That’s okay, though. I’ll still keep collecting, and now I know of a site where I can get life likes like Bailey, Jade and Joy for half of what the stores would charge. There are only about 4 of them I really want, though. I want the Raven series, which consists of 24” baby Raven and 28” teenage Raven. I also want 15” Molly and 28” Felicity. They range in price from $68-$162.

Yesterday, as I was walking around the side of the house to spray the outsides of the doors with Raid, I noticed red wires sticking out from under where the bedroom and bathroom meet. Tom checked it out and said they appeared to be automotive wires from the lights that were on the house during transit.

I had a memory dating back to the Berkeley Drive house days. I was probably around 10 when I discovered dirty magazines under my parent’s bed. I even had the guts to ask my father about it, who in return, naturally, just told me to put them back and that was that.

I also remember the subject came up again after we moved. All I remember Dad saying was that he didn’t buy them, Jimmy gave them to him.

Whatever cranks his engine, I suppose one would say.

I’ve been having a lot of stomach problems lately. My tummy’s like a gas chamber. Nearly every single day too, primarily towards the end of my day. This is telling me that perhaps I’ve been eating too much. Therefore, I’m going to cut myself down to just lunch, dinner and nothing in between but my coffee and gum. I’m sick of being sick. I’d rather be hungry than sick. I don’t get the runs or get nauseous, fortunately, but being all bloated and gassy is no fun as it is. So, I’ll just have a microwaveable lunch cup of various kinds toward the beginning of my day. Then at the end of the day, I’ll make up some chicken wings with some potatoes and stuffing. My multivitamins will make up for my lack of fruits and vegetables.

I’m doing a psychic healing experiment on myself, hoping against all hope that it works. I’m hoping to will away my allergies. I mean the kinds of allergy attacks where I used to sneeze non-stop for hours at a time. If I can do this and not need the prescription nasal spray I’ve been taking, then I can go back to over-the-counter inhalers and not need to see doctors. I know some would tell me I was foolish for not having yearly paps and breast exams. Especially with the DES, but I’ll take my chances and trust the odds. I also think I could count on my intuition to tell me if something was wrong. If I were meant to live, say if I got cancer, I’d think that God would alert me into action in time to save me. If my time was up, though, it’d be up no matter what. I mean, if cancer didn’t kill me, then maybe a drunk driver would.

Tom’s hours are going to be more like 9 PM-5 AM and he’s going to have meetings a couple of days a month. Naturally, he won’t have to leave for them till after freeloader prime time. I’m afraid my chance to say no has forever passed me by, but it’d be reasonable enough to assume Scot will be coming by less and less. On the other hand, nothing’s reasonable with Arizona’s laws, so we’ll see.

It’s so weird when I think of Doe and Art and how they made my life miserable, then they one day turned around and gave me a life. If it weren’t for them sending me out here, not that this could make up for all the horrible things they did to me, I’d still have no life. If I were still alive, I’d bet anything I’d still be just as miserable as I was when I left. I’d be standing in the frigid cold and snow waiting for the bus and all the while I’d be thinking about how unfair it was that I had to be all alone, scraping pennies on disability, meeting one loser after another, and living in apartments. I’d hate to think of how my health would be by now, too! I highly doubt I’d still be alive. I think a fatal asthma attack would’ve killed me by now if I hadn’t committed suicide.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 2002
I’m going to be really surprised if those cheeks don’t show up in the next 4½ hours. It’s been exactly 7 weeks. I’ll have mixed emotions if he doesn’t show up. I mean, I’ll be glad for obvious reasons, but a part of me is like, come on. Let’s just play form and get it over with while I’m up so I don’t have to sit and wait in anticipation for a handful of weeks. It’ll still be September, though the very last day of it, next Monday. Maybe he’ll come then if not today.

I wonder if he’ll come twice again this January. That’d be totally ridiculous if he did. In fact, I probably won’t even open the door, even if I’m up.

Anyway, Dave sent 4 more jokes. The only one that was kind of funny this time around goes like this: A woman cop pulls over a drunk driver. She tells him, “You are under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

The driver replies, “Tits.”

Tom thinks Amelia will be here tomorrow or the next day. She should be, seeing that it’s been a week since she was shipped and that she’s only coming from San Diego, but I doubt that’ll be the case. Maybe she’ll be here Monday, but I doubt any sooner than that.

Got a postcard from Mary with Maricopa County’s wonderful sheriff showing off with a bunch of puppies, bragging about how they get to live where it’s air-conditioned while the inmates have to sweat it out in the tents.

You forgot about those in Ad-Seg, you dumb fuck!

Anyway, I don’t know what the story is with those dogs. I remember some people in the tents talking about them. I guess they’re either lost or abandoned dogs that the inmates care for. I don’t know if they end up at the Humane Society for adoption or what.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2002
I created a Joke file for jokes that Dave emails me, along with others. I’ll email him some, too.

PG says Amelia was shipped on the 20th, so she should be here between the 1st - 4th. That is if no one fucks up and the doll-delivery curse goes away.

Meanwhile, I got their catalog today and they’re charging $40 for Tasha, so I guess the $20 deal is exclusively for members.

It looks like they really did fuck up in my favor and that I’m going to have two extra free shipping coupons and two extra %25 off coupons.

I’ve already begun making tentative plans for what to do with my Christmas/birthday money. I still want to get Mei Li, a rat mug, the Handi-Stitch, a coffee bean grinder and a humidifier, but I’m not sure what to get for other dolls. If I thought I’d be making dolls, I’d get this gorgeous 20” $130 Indian doll Ashton-Drake’s selling, but if not I’d get 28” Felicity undressed for $162.

Right now I’d still say that no, I’m not going to make dolls. You’d think it wouldn’t be too much to ask for, but it is. It is too much to ask for. Especially if it’s me doing the asking. Remember, I once asked for a kid. A simple, natural, everyday thing in life. Hell, just asking for the right to breathe has sometimes been too much to ask for, so what makes me think I’ll get to do dolls? If I don’t, I don’t, though. At least I can still collect them. It’s not like I can never have any dolls just cuz I can’t make them.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2002
I am so frustrated and so pissed off with these fucking mailroom games we’ve been playing! For the fifth time, an envelope was sent back to me. It was sent back by LaBorde, and I was like LaVoice you asshole! You wake me up with your loud obnoxious mouth, steal my extra towel, mimic me from the tower as if I was some fool not to be taken seriously simply because I was an inmate and not another DO, and now you waste me yet another stamp!

This time around the problem was my not having my name on the return address. I am so fucking sick of this shit! There’s always a problem. And what took them so long to bitch about this? It was okay to send tulip stationery, then one day it wasn’t. It was okay not to have my name, and now it isn’t. Next thing I know I’m going to find out purple ink’s not okay! I know it’s not Mary’s fault, but I can’t deal with this shit anymore and God knows how many more envelopes are on their way back to me. Because of this and because Mary’s now writing in a more orderly fashion, I asked her if it’s really necessary that I send her typed drafts cuz I want to cut down to writing just letters once every 1-2 weeks. Or must she have them? I would still send a disk to her aunt as soon as one’s filled up, but I asked her to let me know what she wants to do. If she absolutely has to have the typed drafts, I’ll still send them. Or try to anyway. I know she looks forward to lots of mail from me, but it’s just not worth it if half of what I send is gonna only end up being sent right back. I’m sure she’ll understand.

I didn’t know DOs did mail. I thought it was just regular people that they hired specifically to do that.

Anyway, she sent back pictures of her aunt and uncle and asked me to scan them into the computer before sending them back, so I scanned them in at 300 DPI. Hopefully I won’t get them returned saying that all of a sudden no pictures of people eating are allowed! (her aunt was eating something in one of the pictures) If that’s the case I’ll send them to her aunt.

She asked me if I believe in the afterlife. That’s a damn good question. Truthfully, I don’t know what to believe and neither does Tom. We’ve discussed it before. The problem we have with the reincarnation theory is how the population fluctuates. If 10 people die and 5 people are born, where do the spirits of the other 5 go? If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I hope I come back as an animal or even a tree. One life as a person is enough! I just don’t know what to believe. Maybe we come back, maybe our spirits roam through the galaxy, maybe we just blink out and that’s it. I don’t think I believe in heaven or hell. At least I hope there’s no such thing! If there were, since no one’s perfect, I would think that would mean we’re all going to hell! Seriously, though, I don’t think murderers go to hell and that the do-gooders who love God go to heaven. I think that’s just a combination of wishful thinking and people just saying that to get you to do what they believe is the right thing. Of course you’re going to tell a murderer they’re gonna fry in hell. You’re not going to tell them they’re going to spend an eternity in heaven after they’ve killed someone! Those who bash gays and tell them they’re going to hell are nothing more than bigots who want to try to scare gays into going straight, as far as I’m concerned.

Tom heard a frightening, but not surprising statistic the other day, and that’s that in 10 years, minorities will be the majority in this country. Wonderful. Just what we need. I swear they already are, though. At least they sure do seem to be the majority in this state.

Paula’s back to her I’ll-call-you games. This time around Justin even gave me a time she was supposed to call, but of course she didn’t. That’s okay, though, I’m tired of listening to her babble about her man problems. After saying we now have long-distance blocks on our line, Justin asked for the number again, saying Paula lost it. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered emailing the number. I decided I’d keep sending monthly journals, but I’ll be damned if I’ll play phone with Paula just to hear her scream all about men and not let me get a word in edgewise. Every time I do try to change the subject, she’s right back to the usual shit and I’m just so sick of it. It really does get old! All she wants to do is talk about herself. The whole conversation is always centered on her and her fighting with this one and fighting with that one, and about mail she never sent.

Saturday’s trip to Mary’s went quicker and better than I anticipated. I thought they’d end up having to make more than one trip to the hardware store and even have to come back another day to finish the job, but it went smoothly and we were out the 8 hours we anticipated we would be, leaving at 10:00 and returning at 6:00.

Mary was grateful to me for keeping Dave and Pepper entertained while the two of them worked in the bathroom and Mom sat in her room knitting and working on a puzzle. Dave and I mostly talked about music and animals. I emailed him jokes and he says he’ll email some after his brother back in New York sends him some.

We did silly things like hiding Tom’s shoes in the new sink cabinet and blowing bubbles. Actually, we let the fan blow them into the bathroom. Just like Tom and Mary have always been the more grown-up and mature type, so to speak, Dave and I were always goofy and playful.

We all had pizza like we usually do.

He feels the same way we do about Maricopa. “There are no trees,” he said. “I’d rather have a cabin in the woods.” Yes, the openness and constant heat do get old. I still think I’d prefer heat to cold, though, even if I wouldn’t have to play bus in it.

When Tom, Mary and Dave were at the store, Mom and I talked about Spanish, music, hairstyles, animals, her trip to visit Steven and Carol in California, etc. She says she’s doing well with Spanish. I surprised her with a brief letter in Spanish. Of course, not a word about Nickolena and Parker now that the subject wouldn’t depress me or overwhelm me with envy.

I surprised myself by deciding to get some fish. Mary and Dave have tons of guppies and agreed to give us some. Tom already has a pump. All we’d need is a filter, a lid, food, decorative things for them to swim through and hide in, and an algae-eating fish. I’d also pick out more colorful gravel. They have white gravel with a few scattered pieces of blue. I’d want something like neon pink, of course.

I took one of the 15-gallon tanks, filled it with water in one of the shower stalls and was utterly astounded to find it didn’t leak. Yesterday I emptied it out, put it on top of the big TV, then filled it up. You’ve got to let the water sit for a few days before you stick fish in it. It’ll probably be a week for us, and who knows how they’ll take to well water?

Anyway, I guess it’ll be cool to see, though in the past fish never interested me cuz I always preferred something warm, soft, cuddly and furry.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 2002
Got a total of 398 views and still 9 downloads on my photo albums.

When I got up at 6:00, I found that Tom left a message on our memo board saying he got in late and has his alarm set for 9:00. So I guess we’ll be leaving closer to 10:00 and returning at 6:00.

Anyway, on our way back yesterday, we stopped at the Maricopa box and picked up a letter from Mary, which I read aloud on the way back. It had the both of us laughing our asses off.

First, she sent a picture of a fat prairie dog from a magazine. I have it on the fridge. Tom said that in the Midwest they tend to be fatter.

Tom fixed my printer so I didn’t have to write by hand.

What had me cracking up was that she punched Hope out. I’m so glad she stood up to the sicko, and yes, I know exactly what she means by saying we all have our breaking points, then we reflexively lash out. I wasn’t kidding when I said I promised myself that the next time I’m threatened or hit, I will fight back no matter what the consequences. I owe it to myself to do so after being pushed around, picked on, and stepped on throughout my life like I have been. I won’t want to stop either once I get going and I won’t feel bad about doing it any more than she said she did.

Apparently, Hope was getting on her nerves, poking her in the ribs, so she turned around and socked her. Hope screamed and went running down the stairs screaming that Mary hit her. When the DO asked if she hit her, Mary said, “No, I’ve never hit anyone in my life.” Then she muttered under her breath, “Till now.”

I had to laugh when she said to excuse her foul language. Her foul language? What about mine?!

After reading the part about Hope, I turned to Tom and said, “But of course if it had been me to hit Hope, I’d have been tossed on restriction and charged.”

His response to that was, “Yeah, but when asked if you hit her, you’d have been like – you bet I did! Send her back and I’ll do it again! At least Mary denied it.”

I assured both Tom and Mary that I’d have denied it too, though what he said was still funny. I can see, though, how the DOs would believe Mary quicker than they would me cuz I was an established bully. When I stopped Chavez and demanded to be pulled when Nancy threatened me, she wasn’t sure who to believe at first. But with Mary always being so sweet and so mellow, I’m sure no one would’ve ever questioned her if it had been her in my shoes that day.

The sick twist has to pay something like $150,000.00 in restitution after her prison term. Maybe I should add redheads to my hate list, huh? So in response to that, I turned to Tom and said, “And of course God would never allow Mary or I to get restitution from our abusive mothers.” Then again, while money helps and money’s nice, it can’t undo what was done to us nor can it ever erase the memories. I don’t blame Adam, Mary’s brother, for his anger toward their mother. Like I said, if it were me, I’d disown her mom, but only she can decide that. No one can make that decision for her. Not Adam, not her aunt, not me.

Sure enough, she laughed at the religious words that had me totally stumped, just like Tom did.

She likes coffee too, which I told her we would sip on when she visits. I can just see it – in the midst of discussing current and future things, we’ll laugh over the past and things like, “S has a crush on you.”

She’s still into sports. The kind I never had any interest in, but she seems to be enjoying herself with it and that’s all that matters. With her being born in ’77, I don’t know if she was ever into Charlie’s Angels, but I asked her about it and who her favorite angel was if she was into it.

She mentioned writing poetry and I sent some song lyrics of mine for her, though as I told her, I haven’t written any lyrics in years. Just got sick of that, the drawing and the instruments, I guess you could say, the more I’ve gotten into computing.

Tom told me he was telling this guy at work about our rattlesnake that likes to hang around here. The guy asked what we were gonna do to get rid of it and Tom was like, get rid of it? My wife already has a name for it (Diamond)!

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 2002
Another thing I can relate to that Mary said was how she talked about only those she hated having a hold on her, whereas those she loved, like Todd, had no hold and were pretty much powerless to help her. This is exactly how it’s been for me, too.

Another thing is how others can get away with making all the snide remarks they want towards me, knowing there’s not a damn thing I could do about it. God help me, though, if I should be the one to make a snide remark or to speak my mind against someone who’s gotten on my nerves or worse. For example, it was okay for Kahn to rudely scream at me, but if I’d been the one to scream at her, hell, I’d have been thrown on restriction! It was okay for Donovan, a staff member at Valleyhead I despised, to taunt me about my weight, but had I dared remind her that she was no skinny-mini or beauty queen herself, I’d have been written up and maybe thrown on restriction, too.

The older I get, the more I realize just how horrible my parents were to me. On the other hand, if I were a dog, they’re the first people I’d pick as owners. Never once did they hit those dogs. Never once did they call them names. The dogs were treated like kings and queens of the household.

And if only I’d said/done things differently! I know we can’t go back in time and do things differently, but if only I’d put my foot down after Brattleboro and said, “Look, I’m not gonna play this game with you guys back and forth where sometimes I’m allowed to live at home, sometimes I’m not. First there were the camps, then Brattleboro – well – if you toss me out again, that’s it. I’m not coming back.”

Maybe I should’ve dumped them as soon as I graduated and just stayed at Valleyhead like I thought I was going to have to do anyhow. If there’s one reason, and one reason only, that I’m glad I didn’t dump them before June of 1992, it’s so that they could be my ticket out here. Without them, I’m not sure I could’ve gotten out here on my own and then I’d never have met Tom.

I wonder how they’d react if they could hear some of the things they say on tape. Would they cringe with embarrassment? I would if I heard myself tell my kids that the reason I hit them was that I loved them. I mean, do you know how ridiculous that sounds to say you love your kids so much that you hit them?!

“Oh, sweetheart, I slapped you silly cuz I love you.”

Give me a break!

Later…

Got my hair in dreadlocks for tomorrow. I think they’d think it was neat to see. I didn’t put beads in yet. I figured I’d do that before I left for what’s going to be a very long and boring day for the most part. Part of me isn’t looking forward to it at all!

As I was sipping coffee and waiting for Tom to return home this morning, I was thinking that instead of getting the two vinyls that are just as expensive as Tyler, I thought I’d just get the oriental one named Mei Li. Meanwhile, I’ll get a black, already-dressed fashion doll that’s the same size as Tyler and Mei Li from PG that they’ve had for $40, which is $5 less than Mei Li will cost undressed.

Then Tom got in and handed me some PG mail. Well Tasha, their black fashion doll, is on sale for just $20! I have to order her by October 5th, though. This way I’ll have a while, an oriental, and a black fashion doll. Tasha’s really nice. I saw her at JBS for an outrageous $140! I won’t describe her and her outfit, though, till I get her.

They have a new 22” Indian doll for just $25, but it’s nothing special. I hope Amelia made it in okay today and that she’ll be shipped to me by tomorrow. I asked them to let me know, but if I don’t hear from them by Tuesday, I’ll email them to see what’s up.

So, when we went to report, I noticed Scot’s SUV wasn’t there. Some other guy was filling in for him. I don’t know why he was out. We weren’t told. Anyway, the other guy was very nice. Made me wish Scot could be as friendly. Usually, Scot’s so gruff and serious appearing, though he’s been rather uppity lately.

Since Scot’s kept his word about it getting further apart between tests, I’m beginning to think he may wait till it gets just under a year to test me, then that’ll be it as far as the tests go. Meanwhile, 26 more reports and about 9 more house calls.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2002
In last night’s episode of Charlie’s Angels, Shelley poses as a nurse in a plastic surgeon’s clinic where this girl who was in a bad accident has surgery to remove the scars. I used to always think it’d be so horrible to have my face scarred up, but now I’m like – why not? I mean, what difference would it make? My fat, spongy face is so hideous anyway, that I don’t see how it would matter much.

I know my looks have gone way downhill since I met Tom. Just the fact that it’s been years since he’s called me sexy or complimented me on my looks without me bringing it up first tells me so. I can’t blame him, though. I can’t bring myself to lose weight either. I know I could, it’s just that I don’t want to go hungry for the rest of my life. It seems that unless we’re butches, we women detract men with age and attract more women, though I still don’t feel the desire to seek out a womanly side dish. I suppose some people would and maybe someday I will, but for now, I’d rather not. I don’t want any more games or trouble.

I thought it would be neat to buy some of the Charlie’s Angels posters I had in the 70s, but I couldn’t find what I wanted when I browsed the net. They had nice shots, but they were mostly 8x10. That’s not a poster, as the idiots referred to them. Those are pictures. I’d probably have better luck getting what I wanted at eBay, but that could get pretty expensive, so I probably won’t bother.

I just wish this stock would hurry up and sell. I want to get on with our lives/plans. I feel like there’s a lot of pausing and rewinding in life, rather than playing and fast-forwarding. I wait. I hope. But I rarely seem to do. Ambition and desire are one thing, but fate is another.

So often I feel like my adulthood is nothing more than an extension of my childhood. Only instead of Doe and Art being the ones to tell me what I can and cannot do, it’s either the state, God, or fate. We’re all slaves of God, fate and the law, be it unfair or not, but it just seems like I’m one of those extremes.

If Scot doesn’t show up today, then we beat the 6-week, 3-day record like I hoped we would, but tomorrow it’s back to having to see him once a week for a few weeks. Especially if I’m right about him showing up next week, cuz I still doubt he’d skip September. If I am right about that, he’ll probably skip October. I would hope he would, anyway.

Saturday’s going to be both fun and boring. I’m going to tag along with Tom when he goes to replace the sink in our other house. The one we fix but don’t live in. At least Mary pays him well and doesn’t use him and give him that bullshit, “I’ll catch you later,” like Ma was doing before she moved in with Mary and Dave.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen them so it’ll be nice to do so, but 4 hours is a long time to sit and watch TV with them and munch on pizza. It’ll be a long day. It’ll be an hour to get there, an hour of buying parts, an hour of chatting and eating, a couple of hours to do the work, then another hour to get home.

At least I have something I don’t usually have regarding the matter – a choice. It’s my choice, but as bored as I know I’ll get at times, I’ve chosen to go.

I just don’t get these prairie dogs lately. Today they’re up by the house, but they’re ignoring most of the food I’ve put out for them.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 2002
I got word a couple of days ago that Amelia’s out of stock till the 20th of this month. I was surprised cuz she’s been out a while now, and not surprised cuz she’s a blond, blue-eyed Victorian, the most popular combination. For someone who’s always preferred themes more like ballerinas, fairies, angels and Indians, I still can’t believe I ordered a Victorian doll! If she’s shipped on Monday the 29th, and if they and the PO don’t fuck up, then I should have her between the 3rd and the 7th.

It’s still hard to believe we’re coming up on it being 3 years since we moved here, though we would be forced to play trailer and hotel for the first 4 months, and the freeloaders would steal 6 months from me altogether.

What a size difference as opposed to the little lot we had in Phoenix! You could fit the average apartment complex on this land!

It’s just now starting to cool down. The day’s highs are slipping under the triple-digit range, though it’s still hot.

Mary’s “large picture” was returned to me, and sure enough, it was the tulip stationary that was the issue. Still, I’m not going to send anything but text.

Tom came in from work yesterday morning through the front door. That’s because Diamond was sleeping under the side stairs. The prairie dogs didn’t claim the food I threw out for them till 10:30, an hour after I checked and found that Diamond had moved on. Yes, I’d say this snake definitely lives here and that this does explain the lack of mice breaking in through our vents. I am just so glad, that like with rodents, I’m not scared of snakes so I can live here! If only I weren’t afraid of spiders and bees! Except for things like little gnats and flies, I hate all bugs, just about. Scorpions, cockroaches – I hate ‘em all.

I awoke last night at 9:00 and was still tired. I hate it when I wake up when I’m still tired yet unable to fall back asleep. So I got up, had a bite to eat, watched an hour-long show, then took a Melatonin. Then, after being chased through a warehouse by dead bodies during a 3-hour nap, I got up to watch Shelley, then take a shower. Now I’m just waiting for Tom. He should be in any sec with mail from Mary since it’s been a few days since he’s been to that box.

Later…

I just can’t believe how dense and green the tree outside my office has become! The prairie dogs would have a hell of a time climbing it now, not that I think they’d bother. I guess Diamond has them scared cuz they’re staying away from the house. I see them out and about, but they’re closer to the road. In fact, I decided to stop getting them carrots and keeping water out there. They’re barely drinking it these days anyway. I went out and threw the carrots out further. Now they’re just a few yards away from where they’re hanging out and they still won’t take them.

Only about a month left to go before the prairie dogs hibernate. I wonder why they do and why they came out of hibernation earlier last year than the year before.

I’m seeing more big iguanas again lately. They don’t eat prairie dogs, though. They’d be too big for them.

Finally! I just saw a prairie dog swipe a carrot.

This fucking stock of ours just won’t sell! We have a sell order in for 72. It hit 70 yesterday, then dropped to 68. Something is trying to keep me from the classes and it’s holding up the truck, too. This is how I know the fences won’t be up close to January. January’s stock cash-out will turn into February’s stock cash-out. Then we’ll have to wait two weeks for the money. Then we’ll have to wait for a surveyor to come out and mark the exact property lines. Then we’ll have to make the time to haul in the stuff. Then we’ll have to find time to do the installation. Besides, it’s just like I said; for whatever twisted reason(s) God’s sicced the freeloaders on me and he’s not going to let me cut corners. He’s not gonna let me fence Scot out before I get down to having at least 4 months left.

Then Tom came up with a good idea. Maybe we should cut classes altogether and just get the kiln, get instruction books and supplies, and figure it all out for ourselves. Then, if worse came to worse we could still take classes if we were having trouble striking out on our own. As I told Tom, though, that’s not the issue. The issue is that God doesn’t like Jodi to do what Jodi wants to do. Instead, it has to be what other people, him, fate or circumstances say I have to do. Sometimes I wonder why he gave me a mind if he knew he wasn’t going to let me use it most of the time. Anyway, if he doesn’t want me making dolls, I’m not going to be making dolls no matter how I go about it. He wouldn’t let me be a singer when I once wanted to, nor would he let me be a mom when I once wanted to, so why would he let me do this? At least I could still collect dolls if I couldn’t make any. I don’t believe in prayer, as I told Mary, but I know she does. I’m sure she understands that after all I’ve been through, it’s a little hard for me to want to run to God for help, so maybe she can beg him to give me a break and let me have my way just this once. I think I’d really enjoy it, even if some of it would be hard work and a real bitch. If her praying didn’t help, at least it couldn’t hurt, could it?

The more I think about it, though, the more I like the idea of starting on our own. That way we can do it on our schedules and at our convenience. Instead of starting with the dolls in the 20s and 30s, I’d start with more like 15” dolls. I always was the self-taught type, too. Never did I once have a formal Spanish class. Then, if worse came to worse and I either hated it or just couldn’t do it, we could either sell the kiln or use it for other things. We think we can get a decent one for as low as $300.

Lately, Tom’s the psychic and not me. I used to have a damn good accuracy rate for predicting winning scratch tickets, but lately I’m not psychic with anything. He bought a couple of bingo tickets saying he had a vibe and one of them won.

As is usually the case, my printer’s fucked up. I can’t keep refilling these old cartridges anymore. I need new ones. I have no black, virtually no blue, and pink is barely legible. I sent poor Mary a very fuzzy letter. I think she’ll make it out, though, if not, she can let me know.

I got 4 bushels of drafts from her today. At first I was like – what the hell? But it looks like I’ll be able to figure out the order as I go through them. I got envelope numbers 1, 2, 4, & 7, but there was no 5 or 6. She also had me confused when she said something about changing the rain to snow in her enclosed note cuz she didn’t say which draft to do so in. I think I figured that one out, though. Then she said that a certain draft was supposed to come after the one in #7, and I was like – well then why is it in #2 and not #8 since 8 comes after 7? I’ll try to figure it out without getting too frustrated, but she really ought to start numbering every single page and not the envelopes. Meaning, if her first letter has 20 pages worth of drafts, she should have that be pages 1-20. Then if her next envelope has 10 pages of drafts, number them 21-30. She should be sure to leave herself notes so she always knows what page number she left off with. It’s the only way I’m going to get more of this stuff organized properly.

Meanwhile, I’ll try my best, but if I’m not sure where something goes, I’ll just type it as I receive it, then she can one day go through it and organize it with a publisher, which goes without saying anyway. She’ll still have to do that anyway. I’m not even going to bother breaking her stuff into 3 files anymore either (preteens, teens, adult). Besides, some adult clips contain childhood memories. I’m going to just throw it all together in one file. As soon as it fills a disk, I’ll send it to her aunt, like I said before.

She said she’d send me her organized drafts before leaving for Florida, which is fine, but what does she mean by “different segments?” She said they’re different segments but organized. I just hope the Shadow Men don’t steal them before she leaves like they stole a page or two of my journal (at least they’re on the computer). Fortunately, that was all I had on me at the time, or else I’d have lost everything had I not been sending it home regularly. And all because of one word and how important it is that Jodi S likes and accepts them. Had I written words like asshole, bitch, white trash, etc, no one would’ve touched them. Again, though, they were just taking some things just to be taking them.

She says they’re now selling tuna for commissary. Wow! Anything to make a buck, I guess. I wish they’d sold soda a lot sooner than they did. They didn’t start that till right before I left. I loved the strawberry soda. The grape was pretty good, too.

I feel so bad for her and can truly relate to how she describes feeling alienated as a child. She was dumped by her mother in a convent at such a young age without being told where she was going, just like my mother tried to pawn me off on anyone she could, be it camps, aunts and uncles, funny farms, private prison-like schools, etc. She couldn’t accept me as I was. This depressed me and she couldn’t deal with it. It was easier to send me away and allow me to be made a guinea pig.

And how right she was in saying we never forget our parents. I wish I could forget them and everyone else in that demented family. If I could zap them out of my brain like a computer file can be deleted from its brain, they’re the first thing I’d go for.

I could never find a resolution in forgiveness, though. I think the line has to be drawn somewhere as far as forgiveness goes, and that family definitely crossed the line. They crossed the line many years before I finally mustered up enough self-respect to walk out on them for good. One can only forgive so many times before one realizes that their willingness to forgive only gets taken advantage of and put through the same old cycle of abuse every time one forgives someone. Some people see your forgiveness as an open invitation to fuck with you again and that’s exactly what they did. They made a lot of my adulthood hell and virtually all of my childhood a living nightmare. I can’t forgive that.

I know exactly what would happen if I called my folks. What would happen is that they’d act like nothing ever happened, they’d shower me with care packages and a little money every now and then, then I’d have to hear all about how I should be out working and not home playing on a computer all day.

Then when they came to visit I’d have to hear all about how my bowls and dishes should match. Then, after the snide remarks about my short dress, purple lipstick and metallic blue nails, I’d have to sit and listen to how I was forbidden to get myself involved in any family business while the hypocrites that they are would be doing just that – sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.

Then when they went home they’d tell all their friends, Marty, Ruth, and their other kids everything we discussed and then some.

Well, you know what? I don’t care if these people are my folks, my cousins, old friends, old coworkers, old neighbors, old classmates – they’re simply not the types of characters I wish to associate with. I don’t need shit like they would bring into our lives and I’m 100% certain I’ll never change my mind.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2002
I was working on the ’95 file. I’m at the part where Robin enters the picture. To this day I wonder if her entity was real or just a figment of my imagination. Guess I’ll never know.

I’ve downloaded about a dozen or so pictures of Shelley. There are not a whole lot of pictures to choose from since there are not that many. She wasn’t that popular. She also looks kind of shitty in some of the pictures I found. I like her with her hair shoulder-length, which is the longest I could find. She has it shorter in some, though, and it’s like – yuck.

She’s been a wonderful Teddy Bear diversion, though I do still think of her. Guess I got my wish in the end when I wished to have my next crush be on someone I never met so they could never get the chance to lead me on and hurt me the way Teddy Bear did. (not that Shelley Hack ever struck me as someone who may be gay) Yes, I do have a crush on the Shelly of 1979. Today, at 50 years old, I doubt she’s looking nearly as good.

We hope someday to have a DVD player. They’ve gotten to be pretty cheap so it’ll be one of those spontaneous buys we make when there’s a good sale going on somewhere. This way, I can record Charlie’s Angels and edit out the parts I don’t want just like with songs.

I didn’t fall asleep yesterday till after noon. I would’ve fallen asleep earlier if the freeloaders hadn’t gone and stressed me out so much and kept me up. I swear it’s just like in Phoenix! Only they’re stressing me out in different ways. Instead of stressing over their music, it’s their siccing Scot on me that stresses me out. It’s hard to fall asleep when you know very well you could be rudely awakened in just a few hours. And all for something you didn’t do, and for something that if you had done, you know you shouldn’t be losing any sleep over, let alone freedom. I feel like this has been going on for decades and that I’m decades away from it ever ending!

I was watching a movie that’s based on a true story. If anything I saw was true, this woman became obsessed with this married doctor in Chicago. It was said that they never actually had an affair, though. Anyway, she sent all kinds of letters and made all kinds of phone calls to this guy. Even broke into the apartment he had in the city once. The guy didn’t call the pigs, though, cuz he figured a half-naked female in his apartment would be rather hard to explain.

So the woman gets charged with – get this – criminal harassment. So, if there’s a non-white involved, they call it stalking, but if everyone’s the same color, it’s just a little harassment.

Right before the trial is to begin, she goes and has tea with the DA’s wife and calls the judge, letting him know that he’s mean to women and all that. She talks to imaginary friends, smiles flirtatiously at the doctor during the trial, and does all kinds of sick, obsessive things. It made me realize that I’m not all that obsessive after all. At least Teddy Bear’s and my liking for each other was mutual, and I’d know better if it weren’t. Also, as soon as I see that I’m not wanted, I fuck right off. Guess Teddy Bear’s lucky I’m not like that woman! I’m just going to see if Mary can get me some answers if she returns and that’s that. We simply weren’t meant to be. At least not in this life.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2002
Finished a draft containing a letter from Derek, the guy she had her first kid with. He seems like such a selfish, disturbed little hypocrite. As I told Mary, I don’t see how the hell she can associate with him or let him near Murphy. I mean, the guy’s saying, “How could you let Justin treat you the way he did?” Meanwhile, the little cock gave her the same exact treatment Justin gave her short of killing any of her kids.

Poor Mary. She really knows how to pick ‘em. Then again, maybe they’re picking her. Mary never struck me as the type to be attracted to abusive men, but there are losers and abusers who would be attracted to her due to how young and innocent-looking she is. Also because she’s small, feminine and nice, these bastards probably assumed she was vulnerable easy prey.

There was music in the air late last night, but fortunately, it was barely audible. Again, I couldn’t pinpoint its exact location. All I could say was that it was coming from the north. I could hear a beat thumping if I stood by the utility door, which faces north, but down at the other end of the house in my office, I couldn’t hear anything over the soft hum of the hard drive spinning.

Things are so much greener since we had all that rain. There are scattered patches of green on the ground and even the trees are greener. The one by my office window is quite a vivid shade of green, actually.

My schedule really sucks right now. I’m right smack on nights and it’s too close to the freeloaders’ next home reminder of their sorry existence and all they stand for. I’m hoping they won’t invade my home life before the 23rd, but they very well could before then. I got up at 5:00 which means I’ll be crashing before their prime time. I should be out by 9 AM, but might be able to hold out till 11 AM. Yeah, so then he can stop by between then and 2 PM. Thanks, God; I really need this shit in my life!

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2002
Still haven’t heard from Paula, not surprisingly, but I know how selfish and stuck in her own little world she usually is. She’s probably fighting with a Puerto Rican she met on a street corner. Except for poverty and loneliness, I just can’t figure out that girl. I just can’t relate to believing that a bad relationship is better than no relationship if that’s all you can get, or that it’s better to have people cut you down, abuse and try to control you rather than ignore you altogether if you don’t have anyone around at the moment who’ll treat you well.

Most people never change and are pretty much set in their ways. Especially people like Dureen. Yes, she may really be sorry for calling me and Tammy fat pigs, and she may really know that she did wrong, but that doesn’t mean I think she’d be a good mother if she were starting all over again and having kids.

As much as I hate people, I couldn’t help but feel compassion when I watched a lot of the 1-year anniversary remembrance specials they had on TV pertaining to the bombings in New York. I only hope that most of those who died were major-league assholes.

I learned after I last wrote that Tom got stuck for about an hour when he left for work the other day. A couple with a dog (I meant it when I said we’re the only dogless household in Maricopa) came by and helped pull him out.

Dave, who works at a vehicle dealership in Glendale, is going to be on the lookout for an old beat-up pickup such as we want. We don’t want to have to spend more than a G, but I’m sure we’ll be forced to in the end.

Anyway, this is the second night I won’t be able to watch the 2 AM Charlie’s Angels rerun. Last night they shut our satellite off cuz he delayed paying that bill to concentrate mostly on our outrageous $400 electric bill, and tonight they’re having some soap special.

I asked Tom if he was sorry we couldn’t sleep together so we could’ve gotten a smaller house with less space to have to cool, but he said no. That’s good, but either way, I wish it would cool off!

As predicted by both vibes and logic, the classes will be delayed. He says only till the first of October, but I doubt it. I already decided, though, that if I don’t get to take the classes before the year’s out, I never will. I learned my lesson about struggling and fighting for things not meant to be. It only gets me punished, not that God won’t be around to punish and compensate me if he does let me have my way and take the classes. It’s like I must pay for every little blessing I get in this life. He doesn’t give me something for nothing, that’s for sure.

No more opening windows at night. We’ve had more bugs and spiders showing up. We’ve got bombs ready just in case we end up having to bomb.

With all Tom has to do, it’s going to be a while before he gets to listening to all the songs I recorded and to learning how to use the software to merge the singing with the music, so it may turn out to be Christmas presents for Mom, Mary and Dave.

I ended up recording 18 songs. They are: I Honestly Love You by Olivia Newton-John, The Way You Love Me by Faith Hill, Breathless by The Corrs, Thank You by Dido, When Will I Be Loved by Linda Ronstadt, Dos Seremos Uno by The Spice Girls, Si Voy a Perderte and No Me Vuelvo a Enamorar by Gloria Estefan, I Hope You Dance by Leanne Womack, I Can’t Make You Love Me by Bonnie Raitt, I Could Fall in Love by Selena, I Wanna Be With You by Mandy Moore, Manic Monday by The Bangles, Lost in Your Eyes by Debbie Gibson, All By Myself and A New Day Has Come by Celine Dion, The Rose by Bette Midler, and Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer.

Later…

Amelia has been officially ordered. Tom said he hopes it’ll go through, cuz the credit card’s address may not have been updated yet. There’ll be some problem. There always is. Meanwhile, she should ship Monday, or Tuesday at the latest, and she should be here between the 26th - 30th. We’ll get the two little fairies whenever the hell our stock sells. Hopefully, that’ll be sometime this century! God, I feel like I’m waiting for things that’ll never happen!

In case I didn’t already say so, I mailed Tom’s Mary the storm pictures because I was having problems emailing them. They were too big for her mailbox or something like that, which I don’t get. I mean, I’ve sent pictures just as big before, so I don’t know what the scoop is. Maybe next time I ought to scale down the DPI.

Got a letter from my Mary yesterday postmarked the 5th. Don’t know why it took so long to get to me. In it, she says she got reading glasses and enclosed a 20-page draft which I’m nearly halfway done typing.

Boy, they’re really coming at me for MP3s tonight! But hey, it’s Saturday night. The flow of online traffic won’t start tapering off until the wee hours of the morning. I got more karaoke since we still haven’t found a way to make our own. I left the microphone hooked up so I can sing/record anytime I want to. Still, I wish we could make our own! Some of the songs I sing are quite obscure and there’s no way I could ever find them as karaoke.

Later…

Aw, how cute! I just jumped up to go to the bathroom. When I headed back I realized I had forgotten that Little Buddy was on the loose and found him passed out over the den vent. I woke him up and brought the little guy home. He loves sitting on top of the vents. Loves it when the air blows through them.

I told Tom that if this shit’s ever dropped to a misdemeanor like they claim it will be, although that’s the least of my worries, and if I ever get summoned for jury duty, I’m gonna tell them that after being railroaded and manipulated into a felony conviction, I have zero faith in the system and feel I could never make a good juror. And you know what? This is the honest truth, too!

Tom pointed out, though, that neither of us has been called in the 3 years we’ve been out here, fortunately. This is because Pinal County is a lot smaller than Maricopa County.

You know, I realize that if my theories were right all along about Tom being afraid of a kid and of him finding pleasure in my dissatisfaction, then he’d really be disappointed if we ever got it on again. With two of us now being anti-kid, wouldn’t that scare him all the more? And since the things that used to turn me off would no longer turn me off, wouldn’t that turn him off? Well, I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.

Anyway, if I get to watch Charlie’s Angels tonight, I can see my current imaginary girlfriend, Shelley Hack. I always thought that Shelley was the dullest of the 6 angels, but lately, I’ve been realizing just how good-looking she really is, though she’s a little too thin. Once again, she’s not my usual color preference, either. She’s a light-eyed blond. I guess my tastes have expanded, though I still prefer dark hair and eyes. Shelley’s tall and thin and is now 50 years old, so I’m sure she’s changed quite a bit since the year she was on the show which was from ’79-’80. I’ve never seen her hair past her shoulders. It’s amazing. I mean, 3 decades later I’m still into Charlie’s Angels. It was my favorite show and I think it always will be.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2002
I decided that although the temperature was comparable to back east, I didn’t want to sit and sweat my ass off, so I kicked the AC back on.

So we’ve made it 5 whole weeks without having to play form on the home front. In order to beat the 6-week, 3-day record, he’d have to not come before the 23rd, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he came sooner. After all, I’m a big-time letter-writer!

Tom noticed a message on the Maricopa’s PO’s bulletin about the place in town that makes and sells dolls. They say they sell dolls as well as doll parts. Wow! A place in town to get parts? That’s too good to be true! The question is, though - would they have all the parts I’d need and want? We’ll have to stop in sometime.

A big orange and white cat comes onto the land at times. Cats are okay. I don’t mind them. They don’t bark. Also, all the loose dogs around here are the size of ponies!

Now for my annoying news – I am totally fed up with playing mailroom games. Mary got a mail rejection slip cuz of a “large picture.” But I didn’t send any large pictures! They’re just playing with me, I guess, so this is why I decided that from now on, no more pictures other than what I use for address labels. If Mary wants to send me pictures to send back, that’s fine. I’ll just have to hope I don’t send them at the exact same time someone else sends her pictures. Unfortunately, I sent her pictures back before receiving her letter asking me to hold onto them since someone else was sending pictures. So, I’ll either get them returned and will hang onto them, or she can send them back to me, to her aunt, to whoever. Meanwhile, stamps are too expensive these days to play these games, and even if they weren’t, it gets old.

Hope’s now looking at 24 years, she overheard her tell a DO. Guess that means she’ll be out in 3, but she’ll never get off probation, that’s for sure. She picked the wrong state in which to play punching bag with her kid.

You know, it just occurred to me – I wonder if they consider the tulip on the blank stationery I send Mary a large picture? I’ll hold off on sending her any extras till I get this thing returned to me. If this is true, what took so long? They got a new DO or something? Well, I never heard of this Barfuss character that signed the slip (she sent me a copy), so it may be new.

Anyway, Mary surprised me with a couple of things. Now she’s really into sports like football and baseball. As I told her, sports always bored the hell out of me unless it was gymnastics or figure skating, but if she likes it – great! I told her Tom loves sports.

Then, she asked me what I would do if Tom and I got it on and I found I was pregnant in a couple of months (she doesn’t realize this guy doesn’t squirt). She asked me if I’d be happy and told me I’d make a damn good mother and was thinking she should pray for me to get pregnant (that’s been done before to no avail, of course).

I told her that as a pro-lifer she may not like my answer, but that first of all, both he and I have problems that may or may not be fixable, and no I wouldn’t be happy. I would’ve been elated between 1994-1998, but as I told her, the desire gradually faded. Although I know we’ll never have sex again and that I could never be in such a predicament if we did, whether or not he came, I would abort for 3 basic reasons. It simply isn’t on my wish list anymore, it’s too expensive, and the world’s just too crazy and dangerous. I have to worry about Tom as it is and wonder if he’ll get in a car wreck, have a heart attack, get shot by some trigger-happy psycho, etc. Nonetheless, I told her fate was fate which prayer couldn’t change anyway and thanked her for believing in me.

I can’t believe we’re coming up on being here half as long as we were in the Phoenix house. Half as long already! It feels like barely a quarter of the time, but remember, thanks to the freeloaders, it hasn’t been as long for me as it has for him.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2002
It’s a good thing Tom didn’t try going to work last night. He said he walked out to the corner where our property, next door’s and Ralston meets and found a big pothole that he wouldn’t have been able to see with all the water rushing downwards and he’d have gotten stuck for sure. I told him he would’ve.

The pellets we dumped in the wash are now completely covered with sand. Most of the dirt washed off the pipes too, so now Maricopa’s dogs will be able to play with them easier.

The phone didn’t come back on till 1 PM today, so Tom told me when I got up an hour later.

It was nice getting up at the end of the freeloader’s prime time, knowing I wouldn’t have to sit and wonder if Scot would be bugging me in the upcoming hours.

As predicted, we’re going to be forced to lower the sell order price if we want to get on with life and do the things we planned. So now we’ll be getting closer to $2000, rather than $3000. At least it’ll be enough to cover a truck and the classes. I hope so, anyway. I’m sure whatever evil entity is out there that hates us will fight us on the truck, too.

I also won’t be getting that mannequin, but that’s okay. Someday I will get one. Or two. In the reply I got back from Sherrie – yes, she does come with the wig and stand, but she’s sold out. So now we’re back on for the 3 PG dolls.

Tom left at 3:00 to go to Mary’s to see what parts they’ll need to get for the sink replacement project. Then, he’ll head into work from there.

Right before 4:00, I saw a black king snake out front towards the road but didn’t bother to go out to get pictures, since I already have enough of that kind. This year sure does hold the record for snake sightings!

Later…

Got all the windows open now and the AC turned off. It’s a little warm in certain parts of the house but nice. Doesn’t reek of shit, either. It’ll be nice and cool come nighttime. To me, it’s no different than a hot summer day in Massachusetts right now.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2002
Got an envelope from Mary at the new PO Box. Enclosed with a quick note, thanking me for the beautiful stationery I’ve been sending, she sent 5 pictures. One of her aunt, one of her uncle, one of her uncle, brother and cousin, and two of her son. I’m sending them back as she asked me to.

The storms have cleared up. Don’t know when or if they’ll be back.

Yesterday I worked on recording songs on and off from 4 PM-11 PM. Some I felt were suitable on the first shot and others I had to do a few takes. Tom’s going to listen to them when he can and tell me which ones he thinks I ought to redo, etc. I really am just an average, ordinary singer, though I guess that beats being a shitty one. I’m no Linda Ronstadt, nor am I a Sally, the girl whose tape Andy found when searching Stevie Nicks’ trash in the mid-90s in Paradise Valley. She was pitiful!

Later…

Clouds rolled in about an hour ago, followed by some thunder and a light drizzle. Throughout it all, the prairie dogs and rabbits have been out front. We may have baby bunnies soon. I saw a couple of them screwing.

Later…

We had a major storm come through. It was incredible! It lasted for a good 4 hours, too. The storms are really making up for lost time.

It’s beautiful out there right now and I had the windows open and the AC off, but the air reeks of horseshit now. I really wanted to enjoy the beautiful breeze too, so it’s a real bummer. Like I said, it depends on the direction of the wind, but it really spoils things. It’s the thing I hate most about this town. As soon as I shut the windows, even if it gets 5°-10° cooler outside, it’ll gradually warm up in here without the AC. Things in here generate heat. The dishwasher, computers, and lights. I have to shut the place up, though. I can’t be gagging on shit all night. I would’ve liked to keep the AC off all night to save money, but you know God never likes to see us save money. And if we do get money, there’s always a problem attached to it. Like the $5 winning scratch ticket we got that just won’t scratch off all the way. There are some code numbers on the bottom that needs to be scratched off but because they won’t come off, we’ll have to send it to the lottery office. Why win big anyway, I told Tom, God would just send someone to come and steal the money away from us by conning us somehow.

Anyway, the sky got really dark then it haled a bit and rained really hard. It was very windy, too. Both the wash and the road were running with water for quite a while. I got some good shots of the water and a rainbow. Even in back we had a lot of water. The water overflowed the back wash’s banks. I’ll send pictures to Mary little by little and email them to the other Mary.

The running water was loud but so cool! It sounded like a real brook or river was just outside! The only thing to spoil the effect was the barking dogs. They were everywhere! We could hear barking coming from all directions. It was like we were boxed in by them. A few humongous dogs even had to run through our land, of course. Next door’s dogs started to as well, but they called them right back. They were out sightseeing after the storm hit, too. There were a couple of storms. The big one hit around 5:00 and the little one hit around 9:00. We only lost power a few times for a second during the storms, but then the power was turned off for about 10 minutes at 10:30, obviously to fix whatever had been damaged. Our phone’s been out for hours too, and it still is.

Tom didn’t go to work tonight. I worry that he’d get stuck and he worries about leaving me here with no phone, which is silly. I’ve got no one to call and I don’t have to go online. And of course, the pigs are the last ones I’d call on in an emergency. They could never be trusted. The sight of them makes me sick to my stomach.

Sure enough, I got a reply from Sherrie at the mannequin company asking which Decter I was referring to, so I gave her the model number of the one I want and asked if they shipped to individuals if she came with her wig and stand, and if not, what do they cost? Also, what does it cost to ship to Arizona? My guess is that they will ship to individuals, she does come with the wig and stand, and the shipping cost will be $30. We’ll see. I should have an answer tomorrow or the next day.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2002
I sure do have a lot of updating to catch up on.

The last few days have finally brought on the monsoon season. It rained quite a bit and the amount of thunder and lightning picked up, too. It was still nothing like the storms of 2000, but it definitely stormed! We only lost power a few times for a few seconds. Not for hours at a time like in 2000. Today’s still cloudy, but less rainy. It rained pretty hard at times, eventually hitting all 4 sides of the house. Of course, I had to play Leak and Towel at the front door of our not even 3-year-old house. They have tornado, t-storms and flash flood warnings for northern and southern Arizona. Well, this is south-central Arizona, so I guess that means it could close in on us. At least I’ve been able to sleep. I don’t know if the freeloaders will let me do so over the coming week, but we’ll see. I’m still hoping I’m another two weeks away from returning to having to see Scot once a week.

The night before I last saw Scot, I dreamt it was the end of my probation and he came out and told me the judge wanted me to remain on for a few more months to take classes. My response to that was, “I don’t give a fuck what the judge wants! He doesn’t even know me. And in case you’re forgetting, it’s my life we’re talking about. We’re done as of 10/30 and that’s that.”

That’s exactly what I would say, too. If they don’t finish this shit up come 10/30, then we will. So far, though, unless I’m missing something, I’d still say we’re on for expunging the freeloaders from our lives for good come that time.

The Gods have cursed the Rose household yet again. Tom talked to Mary yesterday and not only do they have plumbing problems but Mom and Mary have cancer problems, too. When mom went to the dentist, they found something malignant in her gums, and they found a questionable spot in one of Mary’s boobs when she had a mammogram done. So now she has to go back for a biopsy and suffer the effects of chemo and or radiation therapy. See, this is why I don’t bother with GYNs or mammograms. If something’s going on, I don’t want to know it. I could never subject myself to puking and going bald by the chemo. I just couldn’t deal with it. I’ve gone through so much medically that one more incident would simply be too much to handle. It’s just like where the law’s concerned. If Scot decided to come toss us, I’d completely come unglued.

Anyway, I don’t know if Mary’s going to have to have some or all of her boob removed, but it usually does come down to one or another, but hopefully the poor girl won’t suffer too much, though I’m sure it’ll be unpleasant enough.

As for the plumbing problems - they want to replace their old leaky bathroom sink with a newer one with a cabinet underneath as we did in Phoenix. (their house is old, but not as old as ours was) Naturally, Dave’s too stupid to do it himself, so Tom’s going to do it. At least he’ll get some extra money out of it. Besides, he doesn’t mind. In a sense, Tom has two houses to maintain, so I wish they had a newer house! (although newer doesn’t always mean problem-free) At least no one’s tried using him like they used to. Not since he put his foot down like I tried to convince him to do long before he actually did.

Maybe I’ll tag along the day he goes over. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them and it won’t kill me to smile for their camera and eat pizza with them.

I was appalled to learn that one of the nuns at a convent Mary went to in North Dakota beat her with a ruler. I hope this bitch was finally caught and prosecuted, but I doubt it. These are the kinds of people God worships and protects. What surprised me was that Mary begged Todd not to tell anyone and she wouldn’t fight back, either. She just doesn’t fight back. I know she was just a kid, though, at the time who must have been quite terrified, but what the hell did God have in mind when he created her? To be a designated punching bag for whackos like this nun, Derek, Justin, her mom and others? How cruel and unfair! I hope that if she’s unfortunate enough to get a celly that raises a hand to her she’ll fight back and tell someone. At least fight back!

Just like with me, a lot of people seem to think they can take advantage of small people, I guess. The sooner people like Mary and I show them that they’re wrong, the sooner we can stop this kind of shit. Unfortunately, circumstances prevented me from putting Nancy in her place, since I’m the type that has to pay for things I shouldn’t have to pay for, let alone things I should, even if it meant getting my own ass beat in the midst of it, but Mary’s been there a long time and the DOs should know her and know that she’s a good, honest person. I think that they’d believe her if she told them she struck out in self-defense, though hopefully it won’t ever happen in the first place.

Now for the best news. I’m getting a mannequin! A couple of nights ago I couldn’t sleep. I remembered Tom and I talking about the possibility of me getting a mannequin someday. I always liked the idea but was concentrating so much on porcelain dolls that it ended up on the back burner. So, I decided to browse the net to see what I could find. Well, I couldn’t find too many sites that sell mannequins, and nothing in this state, but I found enough. The average nice, realistic mannequin runs around $400, but they do sell some used and some cheaper. For example, there’s this nice black mannequin made of fiberglass named Tanya whose flesh tone and makeup are all painted on. She stands 6’, wears a size 4, measures: 33-24.5-35, wears a shoe size of 7½, comes apart at arms and below the waist for easy dressing, and comes with a 16.5” base at the price of $335 plus $30-$35 shipping.

The average lady mannequin is between 70”-72” tall. I’d prefer one between 65”-67”, but they’re still way cool. I think I’ll get one of these someday.

For now, though, I checked out child mannequins and found an 8-year-old at 54” inches in height named Decter for just $175! She’s a cutie, too. She was the only nice one I could find for that cheap. What kind of a name is Decter, though? That name’s got to go. I think I’ll call her Sativa. Anyway, I probably won’t be able to get her till January, and of course, this means I’m postponing the 3 PG dolls I was going to order next week so I can get her sooner. I left a message asking if they ship to individuals, which I’m sure they do, and if her stand and wig comes with her. If there’s any problem getting her, though I doubt there will be, then we’ll be back on for the PG dolls as we don’t have an extra $400 to spare at this time for a lady. Someday, though, when we have another large sum of money, I’ll get a lady mannequin, but I’m not going to save up for one little by little and not be able to get anything else in between for the time it took to save up for it.

Sativa will stand all the way up to my eyes. She’s realistic looking, realistic looking in size, and there are no stuffed (soft-bodied) parts anywhere like with porcelain dolls. She could even wear some of my clothes! The photo quality isn’t great, but I’d say she has light brown eyes and medium-dark brown hair. Though her hair is only shoulder-length, it appears longer than it is cuz it’s straight. She has bangs, too. I don’t want to send Mary a full picture of her cuz the idiots in the mailroom might think it was a picture of a live naked girl. I’ll just send her a face shot. She’s going to either think it’s a way cool idea or that I’ve completely lost my mind! I’m sure she’ll dig it, though.

Sativa’s legs are posed a lot like Joy’s with one straight down and the other slightly bent at the knee so that that foot is behind the one that’s straight down. One arm sort of hangs in front with the forearm curving inward so that her hand is sort of in front of her lower belly. Her other hand appears to be on her hip, though from the angle it’s a bit hard to tell, with her elbow towards the back.

Later…

I was so, so stupid earlier going and making up mashed potatoes and forgetting there wasn’t enough margarine, so poor Tom ran up to Circle K. I was quite grateful to him.

It’s gorgeous out there now. The rain has really lowered the temperature. I shut the AC off and opened some windows. Of this house’s 14 windows, I opened the kitchen, office, living room and bedroom windows. It’s getting dark out, so we’re keeping the lights off so the little gnats don’t make their way through the screen. The glow of the TV and monitor is okay, though I did dim my screen. It’s the white light that attracts them. Although a bit humid, it’s actually quite comfy in here. It’s so nice to bring fresh air in after being closed up all summer. In the east, you’re shut up all winter and out here you’re shut up all summer. I feel so bad for my sweet Mary, having to sit in a windowless ice-cold cell. At least she won’t be locked up forever. I don’t know if she’ll be on probation for a century or not, but she’ll be free someday.

Later on, I may have to close the place up because it could rain again. Right now it’s only slightly breezy and semi-cloudy. It’s beautiful. No one’s ever going to take me away from all this again till I say it’s time to go and move on.

Naturally, the cooler weather has brought the renters out, so I had to see them standing out front every time I walked by.

How nice it is to hear country sounds (ducks/geese) instead of city sounds. None of which would be heard with the windows closed, as sealed up as this house is compared to the old one. Yes, dual-paned windows sure do beat single-paned ones. It’s pleasantly cool in here now and once it cools down a few more degrees, I’ll shut the windows. We might not need to run the AC all night.

Did some more mannequin homework, which I told Tom’s Mary about, too. I thought I’d have to shell out $450 for a decent mannequin after factoring in shipping/handling charges, but it looks like I can get a nice one for $350 at this site I stumbled upon tonight. Most sites have the same mannequins, just like a lot of the same dolls can be found at various greenware sites. If it were time to get one it’d be a toss-up between black Tanya and white Sandy. They’re posed similarly; with one leg to the side and one hand on the hip while the other hangs at the side. I don’t know about Sativa, but they’re of fiberglass, which is very lightweight. I may want to get them new wigs. I found a place where I can get wigs for $25.

Later…

Realizing that it wasn’t going to get much cooler in here with the cloud blanket overhead keeping the temperature stable, I shut the windows and kicked the AC on for a little bit to dry things up.

This new shampoo continues to do wonders for me. It’s softer and straighter, and I swear it’s grown half an inch since I started using it! It’s the weirdest thing.

Anyway, from what I could find out, I don’t think Decter is her name. I think it’s a brand of mannequin or a company that makes them. Most don’t have names except the ones from a series (a series is when you have the same one, be it Sandy or Tanya, for example, that are in 3 different poses). It doesn’t matter, though. I’m calling the first one I get Sativa. I may have to get a total of 3 mannequins, though, at some point in my life. There’s this beautiful sitting lady one. It’s probably $400 or more, but oh well. Life ain’t cheap.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 2002
It’s pretty cloudy out there now with a few rumbles of thunder, but like usual, I doubt it’ll storm. The prairie dogs are out, so they don’t think it’ll storm anytime soon. They’re so cute. They look a lot like squirrels only without the bushy tails. Their tails sort of remind me of pipe cleaners.

Saw Scot first thing in the morning. He still can’t get used to us being out so early, so he says, and naturally, since he didn’t do so last time, he had to bring up the time. “You’ll be able to celebrate next Halloween,” he said.

More like the Halloween after that. I need a good solid year of not having those damn freeloaders pop back into my life yet again for the zillionth time before I really feel like it’s okay to kick back and celebrate.

Later…

A loud thunderclap rang out, followed by a good, hard steady rain, though it ended as quickly as it began and the prairie dogs came back out of hiding. It rained the hardest it’s rained in a year. We had to shout to hear one another as it pummeled down on the skylight. Tom said it could rain on and off over the next few days. I just hope I can get caught up on my sleep. I only got 5 hours of sleep last night and that’s like 3 hours for me. I’m sure I’ll sleep 10-11 hours the next time I crash. I felt like napping a few times throughout this seemingly long, drawn-out day, but I was unable to.

Anyway, if I see Scot before the 19th I’m not going to be too happy, though I’d still prefer to deal with him on my turf than his. Here there can’t be any chatty people holding me up. He’s also a lot less chatty himself when he comes here, too.

Yesterday I typed up a total of 30 pages of Mary’s stuff. I’ve got a 27-page draft I’m working on now and am on page 11.

Little Buddy had some of my treats like he usually does, jumping up on my lap as soon as I hit the floor for a piece of my sugar donut. He was okay with that, but ice cream is definitely his favorite.

So far it appears my suspicions are correct about Tom. Good. Now we can get on with life as platonic soul mates, which we both want.

Later…

It’s raining on us again. It’s funny, though, cuz there’s a huge wall of dust towards the east, but it’s sunny as can be in the west. Looks like it’s going to stop as quickly as it started, once again, but we now have some standing water. The tire ruts made by the well rig have water in them.

Tom got an addition that you add to the MP3 player we use that’s supposed to filter out the vocals from songs, but it doesn’t do a great job. It filters out too much of the music, too.

Later…

Here’s the third bout of rainfall. Not much thunder or lightning, though. Now it’s hitting the front. Good. It’ll clean the windows. Only the north side’s still dry. Now the rain’s turned itself off again.

There’s some weird-looking pickup behind the rental with red and blue lights on top. State and county vehicles don’t have trucks, but tribal cops do, so it’s either that or a utility vehicle of some kind. Someone there may be connected to the fire department after they had that old fire truck there for a few days, and now this. The navy SUV’s been history for a while now. The two usual vehicles these days are the white van, which they’ve always had, and a lime green truck.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 2002
Got 3 envelopes from Mary at the Tempe box. She might not have gotten the new address till right after she sent them. If she doesn’t start using the Maricopa box soon, I’ll tell her to go ahead and start doing so.

Along with some letters, I got about 57 pages of drafts. That’ll keep me busy today since I’m sick of fine-tuning and don’t have dolls to make yet.

That reminds me – I found a really cool site online. They don’t sell molds, greenware or SFGW, but they sell blank bisque (already cleaned, eyeholes cut, etc.), painted kits, and assembled/ready-to-dress dolls. Their prices are dirt cheap, too. I can get a nice doll like Bailey and Joy totally assembled for half of what JBS would charge. Who knows? Maybe I’ll skip the greenware stage and get blank bisques? Maybe even some painted kits or assembled dolls. We’ll see. Meanwhile, I want to learn all I can so that I have a broader range of options.

I’m really glad she likes my labels. It’s my way of bringing the outside world to her, in a sense, as I told her. She said her aunt can drive her out here someday, which would be great, but as I told her, I don’t think she’ll want to live out here for obvious reasons. It’s just too isolated. As I also told her, I know I’d be fooling myself if I told myself I’d see TB someday. People just have no idea how remote Maricopa is! Even if I were still in the city; it’s a huge city, so even then the odds of us bumping into each other would be next to nil.

She empathized with me, telling me she understands both the pain of a broken heart and soul mates. I’m sure she does, too. It seems we both would rather wait forever for a platonic soul mate, than “get it on” with just anyone. I think just about all of us get our hearts broken at least once in our lifetime.

I was surprised to learn she’s known Todd since she was 8 and has never had sex with him. She’s always loved him and felt like they were soul mates. I was also surprised to hear he wishes she’d had his child. That’s quite a guy, seeing that most guys don’t want kids.

Anyway, I may be hurt, surprised and even a little angry at times that TB never kept her word about seeing me, but I’ll always remember her, that’s for sure! Couldn’t forget her if I tried. She may rarely think of me, but I’m always thinking of her. Some days it’s easier than others. I know Mary will do everything she can, though, to get my message across to her if she sees her again, though I know she never will. Like I said, I’m obviously not meant to have answers. God forbid I’m wrong, the first thing I want Mary to remember, though, is to find out if she got the letter. Then she can hit her with how hurt I’ve been. I asked her to be sure to let her know it’s been harder on me than I anticipated, though I know I said so myself in the letter I sent her to give to her. In the letter, I sent to Madison I wrote: it’ll be a bummer if I don’t see you, but I’ll get over it. Well, that’s certainly turned out to be easier said than done!

She says our hair is the same length. Mine would be longer if I hadn’t trimmed the 3” I trimmed a few months ago.

I haven’t gone through it yet, but I was surprised to see she has a North Dakota clip, too. How many states has she been in?!

Hope’s not going to be sentenced till the 22nd, her son’s getting a parakeet, her uncle has headaches, and surprisingly, her aunt gets acupuncture for weight management. I didn’t know there was a connection there. Does it cause her to actually lose weight or just maintain it, I wonder?

When I was reading her letter, she wrote that the girl from the Chance case was in her dorm, in 203, and I was like what the hell is that? Tom knew about it and he filled me in. The news is so depressing that I never bother to watch it. Tom said she was a stripper involved with a millionaire who was found robbed and murdered in a hotel room that they nabbed in Washington. She admitted to robbing the guy but said she didn’t kill him. Even so, she’s charged with robbery and murder. Why would she murder the guy, though, if she did? Couldn’t she have just taken the money/jewels and run?

Yeah, that’s so typical as far as how losers and abusers like Justin operate, as she told me – beat the woman, blame them for their actions, then act all sorry and guilty, then repeat the whole cycle.

I’m surprised she gave Derek a second’s worth of her time as soon as she saw it was him come to visit her. He beat and abused her too, so I can’t imagine why she’d want to see him.

I told her I was sorry if my journal sounded like I was always sad or mad. It’s just that Helen recommended I keep writing about things that have upset me in any way, be it just one thing or a lot of things to help manage my anger. It helps manage all my emotions, I guess you could say, so I bitch a lot in my journals. I recently read back on some of my journals and said to myself: my God! If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a conceited bitch who does nothing but complain and who’s never happy. Not even for a second!

That’s way cool about Pérez only stopping in to get my letter, as she confirms, but not so cool if she didn’t get the one I mailed her unless it got to her after she worked there. That’s another assignment for her to find out if she ever works there again. If she didn’t get the letter that could mean TB didn’t either and might’ve been shy about calling, but I doubt the both of them didn’t get their letters. The odds of that just don’t seem likely.

Anyway, now that she should be through with the whole jailhouse saga, she should be able to see what I meant about Pérez liking me. (it’s no doubt with TB) It was one of those unspoken, subtle, yet obvious things one just knows. I liked her too, but only as a person. I wasn’t attracted to her. I also asked her out of curiosity – if looking at it objectively, and after everything she’s read, does she think Palma really did like me or does she think deep down she was prejudiced? I told her that if she sees her, show her my pictures, if she still has them, and tell her S misses her and has some mice and rats for her if she’s interested!

Anyway, I’d really love a cup of my gourmet, flavored coffee that I had Tom pick me up when he went shopping, but the freeloaders say I can’t have any. No, I have to keep my schedule on days one more day for them if I want to beat the heat and report early tomorrow. Then they’ll give me permission to take ownership of my own life over the weekend and have my coffee, too! They even said I had to get up earlier than I’d have liked to today, but oh well. I’m used to them having first say in what I do, where I go, etc.

Later…

Decided to say, “fuck the freeloaders” and have one of my 4 coffees. Carmel groove, I had. Tomorrow when I wake up, I’ll have the Straight-Up Latte, then during the day, I’ll enjoy the vanilla vibe and mocha fusion.

Meanwhile, the sky looks the most threatening it’s looked in quite a while. As much as a good storm would be cool to see and certainly wouldn’t hurt, now’s not a good time of all days. Especially if this thing hits tonight. I need to sleep tonight, but not till 1:00 - midnight. It doesn’t matter, though, as a storm could decide to hit at 2 AM. I’m sure it’ll be okay, though, and I doubt it’ll storm.

I look so, so forward to getting fences. So forward to it! Maybe, since the renters haven’t been a problem, he can start either from the well side and work his way around and to the back, or from next door’s side and work his way around to the back. The sooner the 3 sides that one can easily drive in on are fenced, the sooner I can lock Scot out on days I want to sleep, though I would hope that by the time they’re up, he won’t be coming around so much, and if he comes here before the 19th, I’m not going to be too happy. The 19th is when it’ll have been 6 weeks. His visits should be getting further apart like the drug tests and not closer at any point. Not even if someone new pops up in the area should the gaps between visits shorten. Especially after all this time and without any problems of any kind.

Anyway, when we do get fenced, I’ll tell Scot that sometimes they’ll be locked, sometimes they won’t, but to feel free to leave the gate open when leaving. I figure I can’t be in for any more than 10 more visits (I hope not!) so leaving the gate open 10 times won’t hurt. It’s not like dogs are waltzing onto the land every single day.

Then, after I’m through with this shit, we’ll probably never lock the gate. I know it’d be better security, but I don’t see the point in going through the hassle. Not till it builds up and religious freaks and sales fanatics start coming around. I like Tom’s idea, though, of getting a remote-operated gate and an intercom at some point. Especially the remote.

Got this new shampoo and conditioner called Fruit Fusion. It smells wonderful and it has fruit extracts like mango, blackberry and avocado. As I was wringing my hair out after I was done showering, I noticed my hair hung straight. Even wet my hair’s curly, but it was straight and it seemed like it was going to dry up straight save for a slight curl at the very ends! Once it was completely dried, though, my bubble burst. Yes, it’s straighter than usual, but not that straight. It’s still somewhat wavy. It’s so dry too, thanks to my being dumb enough to go out and dye it, but at least it’s even.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2002
Again there was nothing from Mary, but he only went to the Maricopa box this time and she might not have had time to get mail sent to it yet. Meanwhile, I’ve been cleaning, singing, working out and fine-tuning.

The stock’s still doing shitty. It looks like the classes are going to be delayed and I may not be able to order dolls on the 15th like we’d planned. I’m so sick of everything always getting delayed. It’s like my whole life is one big delay! I know one thing for sure and that’s that I’m not going to spend my life struggling for something that isn’t meant to be. If I don’t get to take classes this year, I’m not taking them at all, and I’ll just remain strictly a collector.

If we don’t have a working truck by January, that’s okay cuz we can use Dave’s truck, but I really want to get these classes going within the next few weeks. I’d also like to be able to order dolls on the 15th, but if I can’t, I can’t.

It seems we can never get ahead!

Still got a long way to go yet, but the closer we get to the end of this probation bullshit, the more excited and nervous I’m going to be. Not just for fear of the freeloaders pulling any shit on me before or after it ends, but for fear of the assholes back east jumping out at me, although I highly doubt it. It’s a lot more likely that the freeloaders would do something else before back east would do anything to me for threatening Bill, Larry and Ronnie, but I can never know. Maybe their laws will become just as ludicrous as they are out here between now and then. Plus, not everything runs concurrently. They may be waiting till Arizona’s done with me before stirring up trouble for me, but I’ll be damned if I won’t fight back this time around! I’ll be damned if I’ll pay for a phone call I made 3 years ago. One that was made a violent and vicious asshole. I’m not paying for another fucking thing I write, either. I won’t mail any of my nasty little thoughts to anyone, but I’m still going to write what I want to write. No laws or kiss-minority’s-asses trend is going to stifle what I have to say otherwise. I swear I’ll stand and fight back next time if we don’t run, and it’ll be just me and the state, face to face. There won’t be any quack lawyers involved. I will not be lied to, tricked and manipulated into bogus convictions ever again. No system’s going to bribe or bullshit me ever again.

I wish voodoo dolls could be real at times, I really do! I know they’re not, though. Something like that can’t be any more than pure wishful thinking just like a lot of these religious beliefs we’ve got going around.

Anyway, I don’t know why, but they’ve stopped the jail cam thing, so now I can’t spy on Teddy Bear at Madison if she were working intake.

Not that we’ll ever move to Massachusetts, but I get a bit homesick at times, believe it or not. Not for any of the people I knew there, not for the cold, not for the snow, not for the humidity or the constant rain, but there really are a few things better about the east than the west. For one, I get sick of nothing but sweltering heat. I miss the woods, the beaches, the drinking water and how everything’s so vivid and green during the summers. Here it’s nothing but brown. Always brown, though we do have flowers year-round, unlike back east. Most of the houses are big and they don’t all look the same. Nor are they usually so close together. I miss being able to leave windows open during the summers and not stumble across 8” spiders. As we all know, I’ve met my share of assholes there, but the people aren’t nearly as sensitive and as vindictive as they are here, and of course, I don’t have to point out how reasonable the laws are there compared to here.

Little Buddy was so cute earlier. I can’t believe that my now 2-year-old little fellow’s still so healthy and full of spunk! He’s so bouncy and as energetic as a puppy. Anyway, I’ve got him trained to give kisses back when I kiss him hello or goodbye before bringing him back to his house. Usually, he’s facing me when I do this so he can reach me easily. This morning, however, I kissed him on the back as my other hand was popping the roof of his cage and he turned all the way around to give me a kiss back! He’s so sweet. I wish I could have him forever. I am going to be so devastated when that rat dies which could be anytime now.

Well, I’ve seen Scot a total of 46 times so far. I’ve got to report 28 more times and he’ll probably make about 10 more home visits, so I’ll have to see him about 38 more times. Almost as much as I’ve already seen him. If Tom were working days I could have a little say in just how many more times I saw him, but you know I never get any say in regards to the freeloaders. When it comes to them, everything’s what they say and what they say only. Anyway, right now I’m guessing his next home visit will be either the last week of this month or the first week of October. When we’re both home, of course, but I seriously meant it when I said I’m not dragging myself out of bed for him should he come when I’m asleep. I can’t believe he hasn’t woken me up since February as it is! Still, 60 more weeks (420 days) with the freeloaders being very much a part of my life is rather depressing.

Although not as many, I hear early-morning shooters during the week, too. I guess these are the people that work 2nd or 3rd shift unless they’re those lazy homemakers everyone hates. They wouldn’t wake me up, though. The box fan drowns them out.

Since I’ve been home, it’s been the quietest it’s been for me in years. I don’t know, maybe my decade-long noise curse is finally over.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 2002
It’s not going to be cooling down anytime soon if we don’t get some rain once and for all! It’s just going to have to cut its losses, so to speak, and cool down on its own, cuz there ain’t gonna be a monsoon season to cool things down with.

I was surprised not to have gotten anything from Mary when he stopped at the Tempe PO box last night. By now, though, she should have the new address and her mail should be going to Maricopa.

We just did the monthly backups of my computer. Got one CD here in the office and one hiding down in the vents. Till we get a fireproof safe, it’s good to have one down there in case there ever is a fire. Being down under like that and encased in metal means it might come out of a fire unscathed. I just hope there never is one! There is more potential, though, with a wooden house versus a brick one like we had in the city. That’s not the main reason it’s down there, though. As long as I’m still unwillingly connected to law enforcement and a slave of this system, it’s staying down there.

A part of me hopes Tom doesn’t initiate sex this weekend for my sake, and if he doesn’t, that’ll prove me right all the more as far as what my gut feeling says. My gut feeling says what it’s always said when it pertains to sex or having a kid – that he’s making excuses and turning things around and onto me. In a subtle and manipulative way, he’s blaming me. I mean, it’s so easy for one to say some of the things he’s said. How easy it is to say you haven’t initiated sex with someone cuz of their indifference towards it, rather than to admit you’re not interested? So many excuses, so much implying or directly saying it’s cuz of something I did. Nonetheless, this weekend will tell me whether or not I’m really depriving him, and you know what? Somehow I doubt I am. It just seems logical to me that any normal human being would’ve complained here and there if they were really sexually deprived. So unless he’s getting it on on the side, which I’m virtually positive he isn’t, he’s just an asexual guy. He’s always had a low drive. This is nothing new. And he took the jail time as an opportunity to sever a relationship he didn’t want. I just don’t know why he has to feel compelled to say one thing and do another, though. If he wants to be platonic, why can’t he just say so and drop the mixed signals? I was honest with him.

If for some reason I’m wrong, though I’m willing to bet Bailey and Joy that I’m not, then I can test him on something else – if he was lying about the kid or not. Now that he knows we’re both on the same wavelength as far as that goes, he’ll really hold his cum back if that’s what he was doing in the past, knowing there were now two people against a kid and not just one. If he really held back for fear of impregnating me, then he won’t cum at all, let alone rarely.

As for me? I still would prefer not to have sex with him. The idea of it simply does nothing for me. I just don’t desire it. If for some reason he surprises me with wanting to get it on this weekend, at least I’ll know I won’t have to deal with his cum making a mess and that it’ll be a rather infrequent event. Remember, we never did have sex too often in the past. We were always “just getting back into it,” or “just building back up little by little.”

Also, at the same time I’m trying to be sensitive to his needs, it’s very hard for me to feel any concern for his sexual feelings/desires when he never gave a damn about mine in the past. It seemed he was more into turning me off than turning me on!

Anyway, I’m glad I mentioned getting on it this weekend, cuz I need to see if my gut feeling’s right or if he really does desire it and has been doing a damn good job at keeping his desire in check all this time. If he proves me wrong, then as his wife who loves him, I’ll do my best to please him. For his sake, I’ll give it my all.

Tom said not to bother worrying about my schedule. If we have to go in the afternoon, he can take the heat. Yeah, so can I now that I’ve been here a decade, but I’d rather not and I’m sure he feels the same deep down, so I’m still going to try to get there first thing in the morning.

I’d like some coffee now, but it’s just too hot. It’ll only warm me up and make me want to up the AC and up our electric bill, so I’ll wait till this evening. I spend most of the time on the eastern side of the house. Come late afternoon it won’t feel so warm in here and I can turn the fan off.

It occurred to me that another thing that might’ve turned Teddy Bear off was my knowing she was at Madison. I don’t know, maybe she got the wrong idea and figures that I appointed Mary to be my official spy or something and she feels stalked.

Anyway, I know I’ll be busy with other things real soon, so I’ve been fine-tuning like hell.

I wish it were at least January of ’03! That way I can be in the final year of having the freeloaders run my life, hopefully, and I’ll have Christmas and birthday money to play around with. All we get is $25 for our anniversary, and you know, I think that’s really stingy. This is a woman who has thousands of dollars just sitting in the bank, who knows we’re usually strapped, so why not a little more? After all, she gives everyone $100 for Christmas. I know it’s the thought that counts, but $25 in today’s world ain’t shit and I still think she can be as selfish as she can be generous.

Later…

Tom got up a little while ago. The stock’s doing shitty, from what he says.

Why is it that I have a feeling our plans are going to go up in smoke as far as a truck, classes, kiln, fences and other home improvement tasks are concerned just like they did last year? I don’t know if it’s a vibe or just based on past experiences, but something up there does not want me to succeed. It doesn’t want me being a dollmaker cuz it’s something I want to do. I’d bet anything on us not having a drivable truck by January. Something also doesn’t want us to have fences. Yeah, well, the freeloaders may go away someday, but dogs won’t, so we’re getting those damn fences one way or another, even if we have to use Dave’s truck. The only reason I was afraid to get them last year is cuz I knew that if I tried to rebel, block out, hinder or cut corners when it came to the freeloaders, God would just rain them down harder on us, so I kept the way clear for Scot to bug me anytime he chose to.

Tom says this is normal for the stocks to fluctuate and that everything will be alright, but he always says that. Everything’s always going to be alright as far as he’s concerned.

Anyway, we saw a documentary on rattlesnakes here in the desert. They can live up to 25 years! They only breed every two years and have about 10 babies which are independent from the start and just as venomous. They hibernate for 6 months and can’t move when it’s cold. So, if he needed to do work under the house and found a snake den under it, he’d get a hook and snare and transport them elsewhere. At least it’s more likely you’d be hit by lightning than killed by a rattlesnake, as they said!

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2002
The hunters are winding down with the onset of the heat. It’s so cool to be able to walk up to the window and see a couple of cute bunny rabbits munching on the carrots I threw out. Soon, the prairie dogs will be up and about running around all day. Another month and a half or so and the prairie dogs will go into hibernation along with the snakes.

We did a quick run-through yesterday to test the software. I did a few songs and didn’t sound as bad as I thought I would. I’m just okay, you know? An average singer. A 6 or 7 on a scale of 1-10, but certainly better than most and good enough for a CD or else I wouldn’t be making any. We’re still a ways away from that part, though, cuz he has to learn the software and how to enhance the sounds, filter out hissing, and that sort of thing.

Today’s Labor Day so it’s an extra day off from the freeloaders, though I don’t think Scot will stop by till after I see him. I’ll probably do one more rollover with my schedule between Friday when I see him and when we take the classes at the end of the month, that is if the freeloaders will let me. As it is, the freeloaders say I have to start setting my alarm till Friday so I don’t go sleeping too late. We want to leave early to beat the heat.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 2002
I am so glad it’s September! I don’t know why. I just am. Maybe it’s because I know I’m yet another month closer to getting the freeloaders out of our lives for good. I try not to get my hopes up too high, though. The pigs lied to me, they lied to me in court, so there’s no reason to believe they’re going to finally keep their word till I see them do it. All I can do is hope that they will. Meanwhile, I can never know if at the end of the probation, the freeloader’s gonna get mugged or something and I’m going to be the one to have to pay for it, with a little help from above, of course. Right now, though, I’d say everything’s going to be okay, but that’s subject to change at any point. It’s all up to the courts, not me. If they decided, hypothetically speaking, that all short people must divorce their husbands, then they’ll lose me real fast as their so-called “client.” So, as long as they don’t set me up or make any more ludicrous demands of me than they already have, there shouldn’t be any more trouble for them or for me.

September’s brought the hunting season on. They’ve been firing shots since the crack of dawn. Although we’ve still got a while yet, I’m looking forward to things cooling down, even if that means I have to see people every time I look out back. Maybe I’ll keep the blinds shut this year so I won’t have to see their constant activity. I don’t miss New England in general, but I sure do miss the woods. They really make for good privacy. This place is beautiful but too open. It’s going to be quite a while before we have oleanders or whatever for hedges high and thick enough to block them out if we ever do at all. Meanwhile, the fences are the number one priority. I want us to be completely fenced from dogs and so that people can’t drive up to the house, but I most certainly want to be fenced in come the end of probation.

God, how I wish that bitch and her boyfriend would pay me an unarmed visit! But that’s not realistic. If they were to pull anything, it wouldn’t be on us directly. They’d do shit like shoot at the house or torch it. They’re gutless cowards who could never face me and we all know it. I’ve always believed that the best policy is never to hit anyone who doesn’t hit you first (even if people like Nancy make you consider breaking that policy till you realize you could lose your visits and commissary), but these people would be a total exception to my rule. I’d gladly do things to them that I won’t even write about in this state if I could just catch them on this land. And I know I have both the strength and the mindset to do the things I so long to do too, if they could just succumb to a moment’s stupidity and step foot on this property while I was home and awake. Yeah, I know. I’ve always been a silly little dreamer, but hey, I can dream, can’t I? In most cases, dreams are all I have.

I’m just glad, both for my sake and theirs, that no one else after Nancy threatened me. I’d have completely come unglued with just one more threat. Just one more threat and I’d been all over them quicker than even I knew what hit them, without a thought or a care about the consequences. One can only take so many threats before they snap. I get to the point where I’m like, who the fuck do these people think they are going around threatening me just cuz I’m short?! Then I’m all the more determined to show them that some of us shorties aren’t going to sit around and tolerate shit like that. Some of us do fight back. When it happens again, you bet I’m going to make that person act on their threats, and you bet I’m gonna teach them a lesson and show them that small doesn’t always mean weak and helpless, not that I’m that small. Not compared to when I was between 90-100 pounds anyway. All I know is that I’m just tired of being pushed around. Throughout 95% of my life, I’ve been shit on and stepped on like yesterday’s garbage and I won’t have it anymore. Not from anyone of any race, color, age, size or occupation. I shall fight back even if it means that I’m the one that has to go down because I took a stand for myself while they get away with whatever their part in it was.

Due to the fact that it’s been quite a while since any mice have gotten into our vents, I’d say that’s a good sign right there that there are snakes living under the house.

I wonder when and where we’ll move to. We’re still at least a good 5-10 years away from making any serious money off this place from the looks of it. Although I don’t feel comfortable residing in Arizona all my life, seeing the way it treats people and the way the system is used and abused me, I don’t regret coming out here. I wouldn’t have met Tom if I didn’t! I don’t regret the things I’ve learned out here. My life has certainly been much more adventurous out here, even if it was sometimes in a bad way, so I won’t regret whatever time I end up doing here.

Anyway, I guess another reason I’m happy it’s September is cuz this is the month we take the doll classes! Tom has a sell order in for the stocks and will lower the price if he has to in order to get the money together this month for the classes, a truck, plus whatever else we get with the money. The kiln probably won’t come till January’s stocks sell.

Another reason to be happy is that I’m ordering 3 dolls this month!

Later…

I told myself I’ve got to try for his sake to be intimate with him. Especially if it’s what he really wants cuz I’d hate to deprive him. To find out just how serious he really is, I told him we’d get together next weekend (this weekend we’re busy). This way, I’ve planted the seed in his mind and if he doesn’t bring it up, neither will I, and I’ll know that I’m not depriving him after all.

He had to work yesterday. He always has to work one day during the weekend at the end of each month.

I read in the news that an 18-year-old punched his father in the nose and mouth 3 times with a closed fist (so the pigs/media says) and was charged with “misdemeanor assault.” Ain’t it a wonderful world we live in? It’s a misdemeanor to assault someone, but a felony to write something down.

Anyway, we’re going to try ripping the voices out of the songs I like to sing and making our own karaoke. That ought to be fun. Later on, he’s also going to set things up on my computer so I can record. He’s also going to do my monthly backup and burn a few new karaokes I downloaded.

I think they may be getting ready to load pictures of new dolls on PG’s site. Under the section that has new dolls, they usually have 4-6 pages of thumbnails, but now there are only two. I’ll keep my eye on them.

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Last updated July 12, 2024