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jodilin65 · 24 years ago

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FRIDAY, JUNE 30, 2000 It’s a good thing I didn’t go to bed at my usual time last night, cuz I’d have been woken up at 1:00. It thundered for about an hour or so and rained off and on. It was the usual kind of storm we get. The lightning was incredible. We had both bolts of lightning, as well as heat lightning coming from a zillion different directions. It was like a strobe light out there, flickering constantly.

Since being up at 1:00 this afternoon, the clouds have been coming and going and it rained for a few minutes.

Later…

Tom should be home anytime now. I can’t wait to hear how the doctor’s appointment went. I just hope it’s nothing major and that he won’t have so many aches and pains for a change, and won’t be so tired. He’s 43, not 75. And I don’t give a shit if he lied about the sex, cuz I don’t care what he does in bed anymore, and I haven’t been into having sex with him in ages. Nor do I care for a child, naturally or not naturally. I just want to live in peace, that’s all. I don’t want to deal with money problems, health problems, people problems, etc., and the last thing we need is a child to make life harder than it already is.

Speaking of money, Tom says he may look into a program that lets you borrow against your pension in order to get current. He said it’s a one-time loan and he doesn’t know how much he could get. Not a huge amount, though.

I really thought today was gonna be the day I’d hit down at 117 pounds, but nope. I was 118½. I was surprised I didn’t wake up at 117, seeing how little I ate yesterday and how long I was up last night and how late I slept today, but I just don’t lose weight easily at all. In my 20s, I’d have certainly woken up 2-3 pounds lighter. At least I’ve been shitting more regularly since I switched potatoes. I guess that because we’re supposed to have a little extra weight when we’re over 30, my body thinks it’s starving when it diets, and therefore, it tries to hang onto everything it gets like a body would that is being starved.

I’ve been working out for 3 months now. I think this is the longest I’ve ever worked out consistently. Tom says it’s obvious I’m going down, just slowly. I feel like I’ve changed since I started working out, and at the same time, I feel like the same old blimp. I may have lost an inch or so in the tits and thighs, but what about my hips, waist, face and neck? I look in the mirror and I see straighter, thinner arms, but the same gigantic face stares back at me with its sagging neck.

My sudden willpower is like – wow! For the longest time, I could never have stuck to this diet as much as I have been lately, and the time I lost my willpower, it was only for a few days.

The pictures to Doe and Art finally went out today. All that just to send pictures! It took me 6 months of working at it and trying really hard to get the damn thing mailed! Well, at least I know I’ll never mail anyone back east anything ever again. I’m 100% completely done with them, but I wonder – will all these nasty letters, something I haven’t quite done yet since I was only bluffing the last time, be the thing to finally push them into trying to contact me to let me have it and to beg me not to send anything more? Somehow, some way, I’m sure they have our address, even if they didn’t get it from Mary or Mom. Everyone always knows my business (although they still have another few months to send mail to the old address that’d still get to us). People in Springfield knew when I got in trouble 40 minutes away in Deerfield, and although it was in the Greenfield paper, I’m almost positive it wasn’t in the Springfield paper. Back in ’93, Larry said he knew about that, that bitch that worked in Carabetta’s office which I wish I handled differently along with Stacey, mentioned it too, when I prank-called her. “I heard she got in a lot of trouble,” she said. So, I’m 99% sure, not that I give a shit, that Doe, Art, Tammy and Larry know about my being dragged into the police station on account of the freeloaders' bullshit last January. They may know this address or the PO address, but anything I get will get returned. If I recognize Doe or Art’s handwriting or get something with no return that I normally shouldn’t be getting, I’ll just mark it return to sender without opening it. The last thing I’ll give them is the satisfaction of hearing what they have to say. I just hope they don’t bother poor Mom, Mary and Dave on how to reach me. I told them not to give out any info and I told Doe and Art that they’d be shut out if they called, too. I think I even lied to them and told them that Mom moved in with someone else cuz her daughter acquired health problems. There’s a grain of truth to that, too. Mary, along with Ray, is also having health problems. Ray’s heart isn’t good, and I know he’s had a lot of other problems for years and that Mary lives on grease, so she’s not well, either. She’s had thyroid, gallbladder, and other problems.

Anyway, I know God’s gonna get me for this, but like he said, he gets me just for being alive, and I don’t care. These people deserve anything they get from me or anyone else, as far as I’m concerned. I have no sympathy or respect for these people whatsoever. I just wanted to send the pictures to rub in our new land, home and happiness, despite life’s headaches (the blown tire, lack of money, poor health). I like to show off, although, at the same time I’m not out to make these people jealous, and whether or not they happen to be jealous of anything we’ve got – so be it.

What I meant by saying I wish I’d handled – Joyce, I think her name was – differently at Carabetta, as well as Stacey, should be obvious if you’ve read my 1987, 1988 1992 and 1993 journals. When that old bitch Mattie, who lived next door to me, lied to Joyce saying I hit on her, and when Joyce mentioned this to me over the phone, I should’ve simply said it wasn’t true, then hung up on her. I didn’t owe her any explanations. I guess Mattie, who was dating Hank, the drunk below me whom I should’ve killed, thought I was screwing around with the cock.

As for Stacey – when she stepped out of line and dragged me into her office and stuck her shit on me, I should’ve said nothing to her other than, my personal problems with neighbors are none of your business. All that matters to you is that I pay my rent. The resident’s rent money goes to pay your salary. You work for us, so do your job right or I’ll push to have you fired, then I should’ve walked out of that office without another word.

Oh, the many many people I’d wish I’d handled differently! The things I wish I’d said, the things I wish I’d done! I still wouldn’t mind meeting up with old neighbors and acquaintances and ripping the shit out of Larry and Bill, but sending this mail has helped to ease my anger. I feel a lot better. I don’t know how much of the letters will be read, and I don’t know if Larry will throw the tape out before even hearing one word of it, but the point’s the same – the reminder of my existence and what can happen if they fuck people over like they have. It feels good to put the same stress on them that they put on me. I know this is it and that I’ll never contact them again, but they don’t. So they’ll have to live with the stress of not knowing what I’m gonna do next and when I’m gonna do it.

Anyway, I may not be able to undo the way I handled people in the past, but I do handle things differently now…woe to the next neighbor or the next anybody that crosses me in a bad way. I just know that if I ever get into a physical fight ever again I’ll kill the person. If I don’t, they’ll wish to hell I did. And it doesn’t matter how small or big they are. I’ve known this for years now, that if I ever get in a fight ever again, I’ll either end up killing or nearly killing the person. What happened with that crazy butch Mary D on Oswego St., where we shoved each other around and spun round and round in circles clutching onto one another, knocking my shit all over the place, will never happen again. I won’t be shoving anyone, I won’t be making threats, I won’t be pulling hair or pinching. I’ll be kicking, punching, throwing and choking. And it wouldn’t matter if the person were 8’ tall, weighing 300 pounds. Put me down to 3’ and 50 pounds and the next person to rub me the wrong way is still doomed to end up in either or a morgue or a hospital while I walk away with nothing more than minor cuts and bruises. I just know this. Hopefully, this will never have to come to be, though. I don’t want any trouble any more than most people want trouble. It would’ve already come to play out if that black bitch that came wailing to my door had made the tiniest threat or movement towards me, but lucky for her she didn’t. I suppose it was lucky for me too, since I probably would’ve been arrested if my claim of self-defense didn’t work. They probably would’ve told me I’d gone too far for just self-defense, and who knows if any of her associates would’ve shot me or Tom for it.

Anyway, my not giving Bill a piece of my mind up till now was like being slapped and gagged and unable to fight back or speak out against the person doing it. This is why the anger built up and up and I felt like I could explode every time I thought of this sick fuck. I mean, I’d still happily beat the snot out of him if I crossed paths with him, but lucky for him, we’ll never do that, although I wouldn’t get arrested in his case. He’d never have the balls to admit to anyone that I dogged him. Out of all the letters I sent, I think Bill’s the most likely to read his. Or at least most of it. Remember, this is a very angry cock who can’t handle shit, so his anger may override his curiosity to read all I have to say and all that others will read, too. I can picture him reading part of it, then furiously crumpling the letter up, and hurling it against the wall in a rage while he swears like a trucker.

It hit me earlier that something I’ve always assumed may not be the case. I’ve always assumed that Mom doesn’t respond to Doe and Art’s holiday cards, but maybe she does. Maybe she sends them yearly cards, too. If she does, then they’ll see by the return address that she didn’t move. I just hope they leave them alone. I’d rather them send mail for me to return than have them bother anyone I know out here. I totally regret giving them her address/number, though, and hers wasn’t the only address/number I so stupidly gave out. I think they also might have Ray and David’s number/address, although David and Evie have since moved and gotten a new number. I wish there was absolutely no way for them to contact us, but they can’t do anything to hurt me if they did contact Mom or us directly. All they could do is annoy me by reminding me of them and their wasteful existence in society. They’re not gonna come out here toting guns to shoot me with and they can’t throw me to the state and its funny farms and “private schools,” either. They can’t drug me up or take away the things I treasure most when I’m not being what they want me to be. I’m free of them. Completely free of them.

Tom asked why I just don’t call them and piss them off regularly by resuming contact with them, but that’s not the same and they’re not worth the shit I’d have to take from them. They’ve made me a very angry person and this is the only way I can get back at them and deal with my anger. I can’t piss them off and stress them out and give them a piece of my mind in the same way if I were associating with them. It isn’t the same when you’re associating with someone regularly, and besides, except for maybe Doe, Art and Tammy, Larry wouldn’t want anything to do with me any more than I want anything to do with him, and I don’t want a damn thing to do with Doe, Art and Tammy, either. I’m not that angry.

Tom said he hopes it’s over and that I’ll let it go cuz he’s seen what it does to me. Oh, it’s over. It’s definitely over. Unless they make it not over, it’s over, and they haven’t called Mom or sent any mail to me yet.

Later…

I love this – just hitting control 8 and it automatically puts the time in for me. Control 9 and I have the date and time.

While I’m making Tom mashed potatoes, I’ll write about his trip to the doctor. I’m not sure what’s going on or what to believe. He said the doctor was pretty punctual and that he seemed nice enough. Very cautious too, as most doctors are when you complain of chest pain. Especially if you’re a guy. He couldn’t find anything obviously wrong, but because he’s not a cardiologist, he wants him to see one Monday for a stress test, chest x-ray, and some blood work, to be on the safe side. Tom still thinks he may have some sort of infection or inflammation in the lungs and that he may need antibiotics. Meanwhile, the doctor prescribed him nitro tablets just in case it is his heart, but he says the doctor said his heart was beating normally and his blood pressure was good enough, so maybe Tom’s right. They say we’re the ones to know our bodies best. They did an EKG on him too, which was OK. The doctor said that if he had had a heart attack over the last couple of weeks, the EKG would show it, but a cardiologist can tell if what’s been going on is a warning sign of a heart attack to come. God, I hope not! God, you leave poor Tom alone, you hear?! You want to pick on one of us – pick on me.

Anyway, he only has to take the nitro if he has chest pains. The doctor said to keep taking aspirin like he has been for the aches he’s been having, and that’s also good for his heart too, if he is coming into any heart trouble. The doctor also said the pains he described having are weird. I know Tom’s not making this up or else he wouldn’t have gone to the doctor, but could any of this be psychosomatic? He just has so many damn problems. One after another after another. Could some of it be psychological as a way to avoid me? His doctor told him to take it easy, but he didn’t tell him not to have sex. Meanwhile, I’ll bet he uses this as an excuse not to screw on Sunday, although I kind of hope he does, so I don’t have to deal with the same old boring grind. He said the doctor didn’t ask any sexual questions, and whether or not he’s telling the truth beats me and doesn’t matter either way.

I feel so guilty. Whether or not it’s all out of his control, partly psychological, or all psychological, I feel so helpless and responsible. I’ve totally hexed him. I feel I’m nothing but a burden and an expense who’s nothing but a curse for him. He was never this way before we met. Now I know most of it is God’s will to keep us from having much sex and just to be mean, but either way, I feel so bad and I worry for him. I still greatly fear he’ll die before I do. Not too much longer before I do, though, not too much longer.

I used to think God was keeping us from having much sex to keep me from getting pregnant, but now I know differently. God can do anything, including sterilizing me from the get-go, and he doesn’t need to put any work into seeing that someone remains childless. So, what I’m saying is that now I know it was all about sex. All the time it was only about sex. I couldn’t get pregnant by Brenda, yet I had sex problems with her. I couldn’t get pregnant by Al, cuz he rubbered up, yet the sex absolutely sucked with the premature squirter. Well, it’s OK now, God. I’ll take the infrequent sex with no complaints cuz I just don’t dig it anymore, so give him a break and go after me for a change (all I’ve had over the last few years is the usual tightness and congestion bullshit).

Anyway, he says he’s been more rundown since we met because he’s got more demands and responsibilities. I’m sorry, but that’s a lame excuse. What about people with kids? They’re the ones who should get sickly and rundown. Except for when we worked on the old house to sell it and except for all the bullshit we went through to get this house and get into it, he has a way easier life than a lot of people do. No wonder he’s afraid of having a kid. No wonder he doesn’t want to deal with its burdens, costs, time and responsibilities, although I agree. The problems a kid would bring would greatly override any joys/rewards it’d bring. Yet he stubbornly denies this and says a kid wouldn’t have made any difference. Oh yeah? Who’s he kidding? I think he says this as a cover. He’ll always say the exact opposite of how he truly feels when it comes to a kid.

I forgot to mention something funny Mary said when I was bitching to her about how I can’t do anything I want to do when we were discussing getting my story published. She said maybe something up there has been guiding me in another direction (by not allowing me to do what I want to do), and I’m thinking to myself – yeah, right! To where? Where’s it guiding me? To the same place I’ve always been? Wow! My address may have changed many times over the last 15 years, and I may have quit smoking, straightened my teeth, had ear surgery, and done a zillion different things, but at the same time, my life is the same old. My lifelong destiny, since I met Tom, was to be a homemaker. Not a singer, a mom, a writer, an artist, a teacher, a baker, a nurse, a nun, a carpenter, a bus driver, a cop, or the fucking president.

THURSDAY, JUNE 29, 2000 Wow! I’ve really done a lot less writing compared to last year. For the first half of last year, I had 250 pages. It looks like I’ll have roughly around 130 pages for the first half of this year. That’s because there were a lot more assholes to write up between the blacks and Mexicans I was having to deal with, but there are still some Mexicans I can write up right now. At 3:00 this afternoon, the loudest boom car stereo went by that I could hear just fine in the kitchen with the AC on the fridge humming away, although I doubt it could’ve woken me up. They came straight down past the house, but not directly by it. They headed east all the way and I could still hear them long after they were out of view. It was a red pickup loaded with Mexicans. Oh, those fucking Mexicans!!! They never cease to cause problems and be a general nuisance to society. Always have to deal with their shit. They just have to make a show of themselves and stand out. Always have to get attention, or else! Sometimes I wish we were in an area where blacks and Mexicans were scarcer, even if it meant dealing with 4 seasons again, or in the middle of a 350-acre farm. Why did Arizona have to be so damn close to Mexico? Desperate people do desperate things, which means audio technology advances fast. By the time I’m 40, there’ll be stereos that’ll make these things seem soft and that’ll make up the difference space-wise, and sound like they’re just a few feet away all over again.

I had to listen to a boom car stereo at 7:30 last night for a few minutes too, but this one wasn’t as loud and could only be heard in back when no appliances or fans were running. I could tell it was parked somewhere, but I never saw a vehicle of any kind. There were no cars at the renter's, and I really think only one of the rentals is occupied, cuz I only see one truck there and it doesn’t blast music, and it works nights. I think it was an associate of Dan’s that pulled up in front of his place where I couldn’t see it. Could’ve been next door too, for all I know. I doubt it was connected to the renters, cuz I can see both the front and back of the rentals, and it was free of any vehicles. It’s also possible that this thing could’ve been much much louder than I thought, and was further away. Could’ve been at the lot behind Dan or the rentals for all I know. Maybe even further. Nonetheless, these things are getting louder and more frequent and I can’t say that I like it one bit.

Speaking of Dan, Tom said his mailbox was gone one day and then it was back. Said someone must’ve hit it. If so, I’m amazed that they’d take it, fix it, then bring it back. I’m surprised they didn’t just leave it lying on the ground.

Later…

I wonder if we’ll be in for another storm tonight. Last night’s storm was like – oh my God! Different from the other storms we’ve had. The other storms had more thunder, lightning and less rain. But last night it rained really hard for 40 minutes nonstop. I was surprised there weren’t puddles all day today but the heat dried things up by the time I looked out the window at 11:00 this morning (I’m doing a schedule rollover). You could see wet spots, but there wasn’t any standing water. Before the rain came at 9:00 last night, it was super windy for about 10 minutes. I’m amazed we didn’t lose power. I guess it must’ve gotten really dusty, cuz when I looked outside it was pitch black. The city lights off in the distance were completely blacked out. I’m surprised that no water was running down the wash like a river. I had to open the door and shine the flashlight out towards the wash to see if there was running water in it or not. I couldn’t see through the windows.

Two nights ago, while I was listening to music, a light suddenly shined in the window. I thought someone pulled up in front of the wash and that their headlights were shining on the front of the house, but it was actually a small airplane’s lights from several miles away. It was pretty neat. I mean, you’d never notice a plane’s lights flying right by your house in Phoenix.

At 6:00 that truckload of Mexicans came back up from wherever the fuck they were. I could hear the music before I saw them, but then it miraculously stopped right before they got to the house. Tom said they were just visiting. We’ll see. I just thank fucking God no one lives a few feet away! It’s a big difference when you live near your neighbors instead of with them.

It looks like Houdini’s going to end up being the smallest rat I ever had. He’s still not even Ratsy’s size, and Scuttles, Vanilla Belly, Mickey, and the Bear were bigger than him. Speaking of Ratsy, the poor guy’s having more and more trouble getting around. He’s over two years old now and it appears he has a touch of arthritis. At least he doesn’t appear to be suffering and is still wheeling.

I’m hearing a really weird motor grinding around out there somewhere. Sounds like it could be a dune buggy.

Evelyn called today and she just doesn’t get it. Everything we’ve been telling her regarding the trailer has gone in one ear and out the other. As Tom told Mary, she’s convinced he changed his mind about the trailer and that he’s a horrible person now, but as he said – who cares what she thinks and if she doesn’t like him? Tough shit, although I was still polite to her. Normally, I’d let someone like her really have it. Maybe if she weren’t just an old hag I would’ve, but she just didn’t get me mad enough for that. All she did was not listen to us and imply that Tom’s a liar. He’s lied about a few things, but he wasn’t lying when he told Evelyn the reasons why we can’t get the trailer. When she called I told her I was sorry things turned out the way they did and she asked me why he “changed his mind.” I said he didn’t change his mind, we’d have loved to have had the trailer, but we can’t risk moving something so old and getting sued when the only ones that are insured can’t move it till July and want a small fortune to do it, too. Then, as if she didn’t hear a damn word I’d said, she said anyone that could move it would be insured, that’s not what Tom said, she’s not even going to talk to the guy she had in mind to haul it, and please have Tom mail her back the title. I said that’d be fine and she thanked me and said I could call anytime. Gee, thanks. She doesn’t like Tom anymore, but I can call anytime. It’s so weird, too! This is a woman who hates everyone like Dureen O, so why she seems to favor me is beyond my comprehension. Anyway, I told her I’d be sending her pictures of the house and land and a few pet shots, too.

Tom and I discussed what we’re going to do now that God won’t let us have the trailer cuz it would’ve been for free, and he says that once he’s better he’ll take care of the trash and gather up the stuff and put it by the utility end of the house so I won’t have to see it when I look out the office, living room, and bedroom windows. There’s a lot more trash than stuff, too.

Mary thinks he has pleurisy and said she had that and the same symptoms, too. Said she had to take antibiotics and then she was fine. I hope what Tom has is as easy to fix as giving him a round of antibiotics and that he doesn’t have a new problem one week later, and the week after that, and after that, etc. He’s got too many problems for a nonsmoker of his age. When he nears his 50s and 60s, then I can see him having more problems, but 43 is a bit young for this shit and I wish God would leave him alone, leave us alone, and just let us live our lives in peace.

We were surprised to learn that Mary’s already read my story. Her review was basically the same as Tom’s – it was too busy and had too many twists and turns. She said it was well-written, but the ending was weird and it was as if I had so many stories combined into this one story. Tom said he wasn’t supposed to tell me this for fear of my feelings being hurt, but as I told Mary, I appreciate her honesty, my feelings won’t be hurt, and she could tell me it was horrible and it still wouldn’t hurt my feelings, as long as it was the truth. As I also told her, I guess I was trying to be different and that’s why I wanted a lot of action and many twists and turns because so many people seem to want the same old, same old - slow-moving stories that are rather predictable. Perhaps I should’ve written the story with other people’s tastes in mind and not based on what I like. In my next story, if I ever get around to finishing it, I’m going to slow things down quite a bit and be a bit more predictable. In other words, I’ll stick more to the subject, rather than have the beginning of the story be very different from the end. I’ve noticed that the most popular subjects, as I told her, when it comes to books and TV, are murder, sex, infidelity, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, so I may take these popular subjects into consideration. Tom, though, said not to worry so much about what I write about and concentrate more on the day-to-day things that happen with the characters. Perhaps he’s right.

Tom says Mom thinks my book is written based on my life’s experiences. Certainly not! Although I do have mice and once had really long hair and a few other things in common with my characters, I don’t write my life in my books. That goes in my journals. I never knew a ghost named Christina, I never killed anyone (as much as I’ve wanted to at times), and my mother didn’t commit suicide, although it would’ve been nice if she had.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 28, 2000 I called Tom at work to wish him a happy birthday and he said he may have figured out what’s wrong with him. He thinks he may have walking pneumonia, and in that case, all he’d need is antibiotics and he’d be all set.

Yeah until God dished a new problem out to him. I hope it’s that simple, though. That would explain the aches and his feeling rundown. Thank God his appointment is the day after tomorrow cuz pneumonia can kill you. I was in the hospital for two weeks when I was 9 with double viral pneumonia.

I had a case of sitting, standing, and walking allergies today and yesterday, but it’s been nothing like what I usually get. I’m sneezing much less, much less often. Instead of sneezing 30 times every 10 minutes, I’m sneezing about 10 times every hour or two.

I’ve miraculously gotten my willpower back and was back on the diet as of yesterday. I’m down to 119 pounds. Now if I can both stick to the diet and keep regular, I should be able to drop another pound or two within the next week or two.

So far, it doesn’t look like we’re getting the trailer at all. Of course not. It’s free. God’s not gonna let us have something like that for nothing. If we paid for it, then he’d let us have it, but not after going through one hassle after another to get it. Anyway, the trailer’s 40 years old and not 20 or 30 like we originally thought and no one wants to move it cuz of its age. We’re afraid it’ll fall apart along the way, and if it did, we’d be sued for any damage it caused anyone or anything. All I can do from here on out is hope that Ma will give us money to get a bigger shed so we can store things. I have a feeling it’s going to be months yet before the grounds are picked up of its trash and storage shit like ladders, wheelbarrows, etc.

I could’ve killed that fucking rat last night. During one of Houdini’s trips out, which could’ve been a long time ago for all I know, since it’s been a while since I’ve adjusted the air mattress, he either pulled a hose out or chewed a hole in one. I went to soften the bed last night and everything was fine till I went to pump it back up. It sounds like a vacuum which I noticed right away sounded funny, and instead of me rising with more air, I was sinking! So I had to get off the bed and get my weight off it and blow it up that way, but it took forever. That damn little devil of a rat! As Tom said, it shouldn’t be any big deal to fix. Well, it’s no crisis, but we have enough to fix and to do. God makes sure he keeps poor Tom’s plate full at all times.

I did get my eBook, so now all we have to do is hope they don’t help themselves to more than $4. I don’t think they will, though. They seem pretty legit. Anyway, I printed the book out and it’s not even as long as my story is. It’s about an abused woman who breaks free of her husband and fights back. I’m sure I’ll like it, but I won’t be starting it till I finish the last paperback I’m reading. After I’m done with it, I’ll give it to Mary.

Barnes & Noble has a great site with lots of books, CDs and more. I made a list of future books to download.

TUESDAY, JUNE 27, 2000 I didn’t get around to writing about this, but God saw to it that I was punished for calling Bill. Hell, I get punished just for breathing! Anyway, the night I called him, I went to bed at 2:00 and woke up 4 hours later at 6:00 and couldn’t go back to sleep till 9:30 and didn’t get up till 12:30. As soon as I woke up at 6:00, I knew it had to do with my waking up Bill, although the cock answered pretty fast and sounded like he was awake. Anyway, just for calling the cock, this happened. I thought it’d put a major kink in my schedule, but it didn’t. I still went to bed last night at a pretty reasonable hour, although it was a little late. I fell asleep at 1:00, although I was still a bit tired when the alarm went off at 9:00. I snoozed till 10:00 and could’ve easily slept till noon today.

I know God’s gonna really get me for sending the mail I’m going to be sending, but tough shit! I just don’t care anymore about “doing the right thing” because doing the right thing has never gotten me anywhere in the past, so who gives a shit. And besides, I have no respect left for God and I don’t give a damn about his poor little precious feelings. I don’t give a shit if he’s sad, mad or whatever. Not after all the shit he’s allowed to be inflicted on me. If he’s going to punish me simply for being alive, I may as well give him a reason to punish me. Making these people’s lives miserable, even if it’s just for a day, is worth it.

Later…

I cut my bangs back last night. I got tired of waiting for them to grow out and besides, bangs look better on me, even if I do have to trim them constantly and wet them down when I wake up in the mornings.

I have a feeling a killer allergy attack is coming tomorrow. Lately, I get a bit sniffly and sneezy the day before an attack.

Tom should be in any minute. I hope he’s feeling OK. He’s making a stop at the grocery store on his way home to pick up a few things. I’m finding myself stuck more often when I have the regular potatoes that you bake, so I’m having him get me the TV dinner kind. Hopefully, that’ll help. I can’t lose more weight if I’m stuck every other day unless I cut myself to 500 calories a day and I can’t do that. I’ve been 120-121 cuz that sudden magical burst of willpower has been waning away. I’ve been having around 1500 calories lately. Too many for losing weight.

MONDAY, JUNE 26, 2000 Tom made a doctor’s appointment for this Friday. He said he told them he didn’t care which doctor he saw and will be seeing a male. As long as they do their jobs, it doesn’t matter who or what they are, I suppose. Anyway, I’ll bet my doll collection that when they ask their routine question – any problems with sex? – he’ll say no. I tell you, this man wants to be the way he is and he doesn’t want a kid any more than he wants a tumor. I’m sure he’ll give me some lame excuse like how he didn’t have time to mention it, or maybe he’ll lie and say he did mention it and say that the doctor said to just keep plugging away at it, which none would say to a guy who’s only cum 15 times with their partner in 7 years. A doctor would probably recommend some kind of therapy before recommending any drugs, cuz this is obviously a psychological problem and not a physical problem. The guy needs to either let go of his fears of impregnating me or get on birth control. Nonetheless, I hope his not feeling well is just a case of him not eating right and him maybe needing vitamins and not the onset of a serious illness.

Speaking of sex, we got together yesterday for our usual cumless, predictable Sunday sex where he screwed me with those slow, controlled movements.

I just wish he’d stop saying he was going to do things or make changes we both know he has no intention of making. We both knew he would trash his office here and that that’s what he wanted to do, and sure enough, his office is in worse mayhem than last weekend and it’ll only get worse. Eventually, I’ll have to tiptoe through piles of clutter to walk through the room just as I did in Phoenix.

The only other thing I heard during the weekend was this really weird sound that could only be heard outside. It was barely audible and I’m not sure if it was music or not. If it was music, it sure was some really strange music.

The p-dogs are getting braver and braver, coming within a few feet of the stairs I stand on when feeding them. It was so cute earlier how I went out with the bag of lettuce that they could hear rustling, then one of them came running towards me like a cat or a dog would.

Tom called another trailer-hauling place and they want a ridiculous 900 bucks to disconnect and haul it here with no setup work involved. They told him it’d cost more than the trailer was worth. He didn’t ask when they could do it cuz they’re such rip-offs. Tom’s going to tell Mom that if she insists on paying such an outrageous fee – fine, but she might as well just give us the 900 bucks to buy a nice shed.

I made a wonderful addition to my shit list. Now, why didn’t I think of this before? It only hit me last night to see if I could find Bill’s address online, and I did. There were two William G’s listed. One in Fairfield and one in Oakdale, and I was like – Oakdale? I never even heard of it. Anyway, I guessed the right Bill to be the Oakdale one cuz that one was in the same area code as Tammy. I called there and proved my guess to be right. I recognized the voice instantly, although I played with his head for a minute. That’s either one very stupid cock or a very tired one since it was 1:30 in the morning when I called to make my confirmation.

Anyway, this little fuck will be getting a letter with a piece of my mind in it, right along with Larry, Ronnie, James, Alphonse and Bob C.

Later…

I hate God. Totally, totally hate him! I swear I hate him more and more each year. Pretty soon there’ll be no more hate left in me to give out. He just won’t leave us the fuck alone and let us live in peace! There’s always got to be one thing after another going on with us. He’s gone after the car again, but this is mild. This is just a blown tire. Wait till we have a major problem and the car won’t even drive. That’ll be within the next 6 months, I’m sure. Anyway, now it looks like we won’t get that trailer after all and that we’ll have to turn the title over to the trailer park. They won’t give us any money for it, though. Tom says this will make Evelyn unhappy, but if this is what happens, and if she gets upset with us – tough fucking shit. We didn’t do anything wrong and it was out of control. We did everything we could to get the damn thing. Anyway, Tom told Mary to think it over with Ma, and that we don’t mind taking it since they’re gonna pay for it, we just think 900 bucks is crazy and we’d rather her just give us that much in cash. We could get a shed bigger than the trailer for half that price.

See what I mean, though? All the bullshit we have to go through to get things is ridiculous! After God made us go through hell to get something we paid for, I knew he wasn’t gonna just let us have something for free. I can’t even have a fucking 4 dollar eBook! It looks like the site I ordered the book from is gonna rip us off. They told us we’d have the book in 24 hours and now it’s up to 72 hours. Yeah, right! And I still can’t get my fucking mail mailed to the people back east cuz Tom had to forget the priority mail stamp today. He only remembers the things that are most important to him.

Anyway, I’m frustrated, depressed, and pissed off at God and the crazy world he created!

Later…

Tom went to bed about an hour ago, and I barely forced myself to work out, and now I can write. I still don’t know what to do or what to think and I feel so helpless. First I find out that getting a book to a publisher is quite complicated even in this day and age, then a tire goes flat on the car, then we can’t have the trailer, and then I find out that he’s lied to me yet again. I can trust him with what I need, but not with what I want. I want him to always level with me, I told him for the millionth time. It’s not that he lied, but he held out on me. Unless he’s making things up, and I don’t know what to believe, like I said, because of his timing. He always seems to have a problem right when I do. Like he’s trying to turn the attention on himself instead of having to deal with me. To explain a little bit more of what I mean when I was bitching earlier about how it’s one fucking thing after another, it seemed quite a coincidence that he suddenly felt sick and had to lay down flat on the floor to let the blood get to his head. It was as if he figured he could get out of listening to me bitch by conveniently getting sick. And with conveniently getting better as soon as I’d gotten things out of my system, even though our problems are still our problems.

But maybe not. My worst fear has always been him dying before I do. Way before I do. I fear him suddenly dying of a heart attack. It’s always the good guy who’s fairly young, who doesn’t smoke, and who doesn’t have heart problems in his family, who suddenly up and dies of a heart attack. Today he told me he lied to me because he didn’t want to worry me, but that it’s more than just a case of him feeling rundown. He said he’s been having chest pains, pains in his left arm, and tingling in his face. These are signs of heart problems. Especially the first two. When he told me this I was like, oh my God! He’s gonna do it. God’s not just out to hassle me throughout my life and take away the things I want, but he’s out to kill me, cuz killing my husband means killing me. I swear that the minute I ever found out he was dead, I’ll hang myself without a moment’s hesitation!

What he’s got to understand is that this holding out on me dampens my trust in him even further. If he’s telling the truth and not trying to turn attention from me onto him, I appreciate his considering my feelings, but he’s got to level with me. I want to know when he’s sick, I want to know when he wants to trash his office, I want to know when he doesn’t want kids. I’m sick of him being like – yeah, yeah, whatever you say is fine – when it’s not fine. I’m sick of the – yes, I’ll do this or that, and we can do this or that – when no he won’t and no we can’t cuz he never wanted to or intended to in the first place. Why is he so afraid to deal with my reaction if he says no to certain things and just levels with me from the get-go? He tells me he quit working out and keeping up on his office till he finds out what’s going on with him, but that much I don’t buy. I think he quit working out cuz he quits most things he starts and that he just got tired of it. I think he quit keeping up on his office cuz he never wanted to keep up on his stuff. Not since I’ve known him he hasn’t.

I don’t know what to think or believe. He’s lied to me too many times. He said the doctor won’t even get to the routine question of – any problems with sex? – because he’s going in there with something wrong with him. Oh, I think the doctor will get to it. A doctor has still got to ask routine questions cuz that enables them to get a handle as to what could be going on with the patient. Anyway, the question will be asked and the answer will be a lie, but right now that’s not the issue. The issue is – is he as sick as he’s been saying he is, and if so, what’s going on? Are we talking about a mild, treatable situation here or a big deal that’ll ultimately kill him before he’s even 60 or 70 years old? Although it seems a coincidence, everything he’s saying goes with my vibes. I know I wrote and also mentioned to him that I feared God would go after our health, probably his, once we got settled in. And also, Tom never goes to doctors so his suddenly making an appointment tells me he probably does have something going on. He tried reassuring me by saying that it’s probably his belly, and how Dave went to the doctor with chest pains that turned out to be a bad belly, but then why the arm numbness and the facial tingling? I’m not gonna rest in peace till he sees the doctor Friday, and even then I might not, depending on what they say. The whole thing has me really freaked out. I felt for a while that I would die when I was in my early 60s, but that’s been fading lately, and I’ve been fearing for him more and more. It’s a big fear of mine, having him die on me. Women usually live longer than men and I’m younger, so even if he lived to be 75, that’d put me at 67, and I could end up living 10, 15, or even 20 more years! I’d never let myself, though. First of all, I’d have no place to go and no means of support or transportation, and even if I did, I’d never want to live without him. There’s absolutely no life for me without Tom. My love for him way overrides my resentment towards him for lying all these years about sex and having a kid. I’d give up anything for him to be alive, happy and healthy, even if that meant I could never again have rodents or collect another doll.

I’m not the least bit surprised about this not being able to find someone to haul the trailer, then finding someone who’ll do it for a small fortune. I knew God wouldn’t just let us have something. Anything given to us, we have to fight tooth and nail for, if we can even get it, or it comes to us with many price tags attached. When his ma dies and we get our inheritance, we’re going to be made to be sooo miserable over it. God’s gonna get us good for it and really cause all kinds of problems for us. I think one of the things he’ll try to do is drain the money from us as quickly as possible by having expensive things break on us. I’m not sure if I even want the inheritance. Besides, because he has so many siblings, we’re only talking around $20,000 and not $50,000 or $100,000. If Ma were smart, she wouldn’t leave Steven and Carol much, cuz Carol’s parents are super rich, which means that when they die, they’ll be super rich too, but I don’t think Ma would do that. I think she’d feel guilty and that Steven would feel hurt if she did that.

SUNDAY, JUNE 25, 2000 Boredom, boredom, boredom! I seem to be dealing with a lot of that lately. I figured I would once we were settled in the house. I’d rather be bored, though, than not have a life at all. Even so, the same old gets old. I can only read, write, watch TV, listen to music and work out so much.

I can’t do any sewing yet because we still don’t have all the supplies we need. I need Velcro and snaps for closures, along with some elastic, which reminds me – Ma gave me a ton of lace the other day. A whole bagful, but not without dead bugs being mixed into it. That’s how old this stuff is and how long she’s had it. We looked for dates on some of the packages and found some things as old as 1968!

The night before last, both rats were out playing with me and with each other, and Houdini behaved and went home when he was supposed to. He did try to test me a few times, though, by walking up to the bedroom doorway. I’d tell him to get away and he’d run away from the doorway, so he knows where he’s not supposed to be. Nonetheless, he decided to live up to his name and escape yesterday. The first two nights and last night, he stayed home. But the reason he escaped yesterday, an hour before I got up, according to Tom, is because I slept late. Because I slept in he lost patience waiting for me to get up and came looking for me. I knew he was out as soon as I went into the bathroom and saw the air freshener spray can had been knocked over that I keep on the floor by the toilet. The “duty spray,” I normally call it. I found him in the closet, his favorite place.

Tom’s computer crashed and he can’t get into the email thing to see if my eBook is ready for downloading, and he doesn’t have the password written down and can’t remember it, either. Figures. Fucking figures. We have one problem after another with the computers. Yesterday my ink clogged up and we had the clean print heads, and I apparently have a loose cable somewhere too, cuz I couldn’t print anything other than garbage for a while.

As for the new hobby I said I’ve taken up to fill in the boring spots in my life – well, actually, it’s a very old hobby. One I started as young as between the ages of 10-12 – communicating through pictures. I don’t know how to explain this and I know it sounds totally, totally crazy, but I just know it’s real. I use pictures of celebrities and “bring them to life” in a sense, although I’m certainly not saying I’m talking to the actual Gloria Estefan, for example. The people look like the pictures that they are, but I don’t know who they are. Just that they can see, hear and understand me. I don’t know what this ability to communicate with/through pictures is all about. I just know that it is real and it isn’t a product of my imagination. It’s something you just know, just like animals instinctively know the time of day, etc. I’m totally aware of this thing. There’s no denying it. But I don’t understand how it works and why. Only that it exists. Maybe God gave me this ability as an extra coping method, although I certainly don’t need this or any other coping method in my life nowadays. I just use it as a way to fill in the gaps between the things I do when I get bored. We all handle our boredom in our own ways. Mine’s just a rather unique way. I told myself, you have the ability, it’s there, so print out some pictures and use it. I didn’t print out any Carol pictures because they didn’t print out too well. Just old Gloria pictures. Ones I used back east. Another thing I just know is that these pictures don’t remember the me from back east, even though most of these pictures are copies of the exact pictures I used back there. I also didn’t use any Norah pictures because the person in the picture has to be making direct eye contact with the camera in order for me to do my thing and I don’t have any pictures of her staring into the camera.

Later…

Tom’s in his office now, which is totally trashed like I knew it would be, looking online for publishers. It looks like it’s not going to be as simple as sending them a disk of my story. It looks like they may want certain things along with it. One company wanted stories printed out at a certain size on one side of the paper only. I’m not surprised at all these catches. I mean, I know it’s not meant to be. Nothing I choose to do is. I met my destiny the day I met Tom. This is it. I’ve “lived my life,” so to speak. I ain’t doing anything else other than my hobbies and taking care of the house and animals and it’d be a waste of time and postage to mail my story to anyone in any form.

A movie’s on tonight about serial killer David Berkowitz. What took them so long? This guy did his killings in the 70s. I remember the summer he was doing his thing. I was a kid at the beach for yet another miserable summer there of dealing with Dureen’s wrath and dominance, being bored by being made to sit on my ass on the beach all day, feeling like an outcast, and being jealous of other kids for being skinnier than I was, having longer hair, having nicer parents, having more privileges and freedom, etc. If there was ever a kid who just couldn’t be herself and who was so controlled and not allowed to do her own thing, it was me. I can see parents making a lot of decisions for a child as far as where they go and what they do is concerned, but we’re talking a good 95% or more in my case. It was terrible. Just horrible. One of God’s themes for me in life was/is to definitely have my life dictated to me by others. Even as an adult. My husband wouldn’t allow me to have a child if I could have one and if I wanted one, my neighbors wouldn’t let me live in peace, and on and on and on. I could sit here writing pages and pages of all the restrictions and controls people have put on me and forced me to live with. Or without, for that matter.

SATURDAY, JUNE 24, 2000 I got to get out of screwing today, but I figured as much. It’s Saturday, and he’s still claiming to not be feeling well. He’s saying he thinks he was slightly diabetic because of how rundown he felt and has changed his eating habits. That’s all well and good but he doesn’t stick to anything. Almost everything he starts, he ends up quitting. Anyway, I still don’t know if this is an excuse to avoid me or not. He seemed perky enough today. Our usual sex day isn’t till tomorrow, so we’ll see what he does then. I’m sure it won’t be anything new and exciting.

He looked online for information on eBooks and said that if no one publishes it the regular way, then maybe I can send it to an eBook publisher. eBooks, of course, are books you buy electronically. You can either read it online or print it out. You can download it or you can have them send you a disk. If all goes well, I should have one ready for me to download within 24 hours. Anyway, he’s going to look more into getting a list of regular publishers tomorrow. It’s nice to know he’s this supportive of my writing, but sad to know he’d never support me if I decided I wanted invitro, and certainly not if I wanted to try the natural way.

Tom pointed out that he doubts his mother could read the copy of my story I gave her, Mary, Dave and Evelyn, so I printed out a large print copy for her.

Today was the driest, sunniest day in nearly a week. Yesterday, though, boy did I see the most breathtaking rainbow ever! Got some good shots of it, too.

The p-dogs are getting braver and braver and now they’re coming within a few feet of me. Soon, I should be able to get a close-up of them. They’re warming up to me the way the pigeons did. At least these buddies don’t make such a mess and are crapping on dirt and not a patio or around and in a pool!

My stereo’s CD player is as erratic as my periods. Today it decided to play CDs for me.

I’m sending Paula a few more pictures that I’ve been wanting to send for a few months, then that’s it. No more till and if I hear from her. I don’t do one-sided friendships. This is why I let Shelley go.

Another stupid Mexican called today, but I don’t think it left a message. Mexicans are so damn stupid!

Tom’s having trouble finding someone to haul the trailer out here. The only cock he found can’t do it till July, which may explain why I had a vibe about us getting it in July. Everyone else is too lazy to disconnect its power, phone, cooler, etc., although Tom’s OK with setting it up here himself. If we want something done right, we’ll do it with our own white hands. If worse comes to worst we’ll sign it over to the trailer park it’s at now. Then, according to Tom, his mom will feel bad for us for being all psyched up over having a storage place, that she’ll buy us a shed or something. Well, I hope that either way, we have something to store all the crap that’s outside in.

It’s been another peaceful weekend so far. The only thing I heard this afternoon for about 90 seconds was the beat of a car stereo towards the north, but I never saw anything. It was either traveling down a nearby road at a semi-soft volume, or it was blaring from miles and miles away.

Woke up at 121 pounds and it’s my own damn fault. Yesterday I got carried away and had around 2000 calories, and the day before that I had around 1500. So, I’m taking it a lot easier today.

There’s more I want to write about, but I want to go do other things for now.

THURSDAY, JUNE 22, 2000 It’s a good thing I went to bed when I did last night because it was thundering madly by 9:30. We got some steady rain for a while, too.

How do you wake up two pounds heavier after you’ve had your period, you’ve shit, and you’ve been eating so little? I haven’t had more than 1000 worth of food the last couple of days, and maybe about 300 calories worth of coffee, so why is it that I’m back to 120 pounds? Guess this is a reminder of how easily I gain weight and of how slow my metabolism is. It’s also a reminder that I can never have 1500-2000 a day without gaining whatever I’ve lost back.

Later…

Wow! I can’t believe all these storms! Still not enough water to flow down the washes like a river, though. It’s down to just 67 degrees out and I was even able to shut off the AC and open some windows in back to let the nice breeze flow in and freshen things up in here. I miss having an evaporative cooler, although that’d be useless at this time with the dew point so high. If the rain starts coming down hard again, I’ll have to shut the windows. For now, I’ve got one in the den open, the kitchen window’s open, and the retreat’s open. I’d open the living room and office, but the wind’s not coming in that way.

Later…

It stormed from 9:30 AM to 2:00 PM today.

I’ve been finding myself getting more and more bored these days. There are things I could do, but I just get sick of the same old, same old. I think back to the hotel/trailer days and I certainly don’t miss the hecticness of those days, but I never had time to be bored! I’ve taken up a new hobby, though, but I’ll discuss it here some other time.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 21, 2000 I finally got everyone’s pictures printed out. All that time and BS just to print pictures! Good, God! Anyway, I’m also sending a few sheets to Evelyn each with 15 pictures on it, about 5 sheets to Paula, and only one to his mom. That’s because his mom’s already been out here. The next time he goes to the post office he’ll pick up a priority postage stamp, then I’ll write out their address on it and have him send it off, along with Larry’s tape, the next time he goes to the PO. Tammy could’ve gotten her pictures today, but if not, she’ll get them tomorrow. Better yet, there may be a one or two-day delay on hers, cuz she already moved. I just tried to call her (blocking the number and with every intention of hanging up if someone answered) and the phone’s no longer in service. So I guess this means the house is empty and up for sale. I wonder, though - would she have separated/divorced Bill if she hadn’t had Mark lined up and waiting for her? Somehow I doubt it. She can’t live without a man, married or not. Anyway, a week after sending out Doe and Art’s pictures and Larry’s tape, I’ll then launch Larry’s associate’s letters.

The monsoon season is officially here. Although it’s early and doesn’t usually come till late July, Tom says that once you have 3 days in a row where it’s cloudy/rainy, that’s when the start of the season is. It hasn’t started this early, though, since something like 1925. Anyway, this is the fifth cloudy day, but yesterday and today we didn’t get any rain here at the house. We could see that it was raining in pockets when we were out yesterday. Since so much of Arizona is so flat with low buildings, you can see so much of the sky at once. It was pretty neat seeing it rain here and rain there. You could tell by how the clouds would meet the ground.

That yucky smell in the second bath is back, although we can’t find any leaks. We just can’t find the source of the smells in either of the baths. It’s like this mysterious smell that cannot be found or fixed no matter what. Tom suggested the smell in the big bath was being blown in by the wind, which did die down when the wind shifted, but then how come I don’t smell the smell outside in the area it’d be coming from if that were it? What? Is something cursing us with stinky bathrooms?

He did do his office last Sunday at the last minute, but it’s sad to know that each week it’ll get messier and messier. I keep that door shut now. I can’t stand the depressing sight of piles and piles of clutter.

For the thousandth time, my stereo quit playing CDs. Rather than keep having Tom jiggle the loose connector, I decided to hang it up and use my other CD player, but with this stereo’s speakers. Someday I’ll have that CD changer which will hopefully be by December.

Woke up the other day at 118 pounds. Guess that dream was a premonition. Well, like I said, it did leave me with that feeling that said it wasn’t just a dream, although I’m not 115 pounds yet. I think I will be, though. It also helps to have changed my thinking. Instead of telling myself that I’ve got 20 pounds to lose, I tell myself to lose a few pounds at a time. Better to have many short-term goals than one big long-term one.

Raymond had a pacemaker put in the other day and is reported to be doing OK. In case I never said, although I’m sure I did, Raymond’s the oldest, then David, then Mary, then Tom, then Steven.

Tom says he’s going to look up publishers this weekend and that they’re not going to reject or accept me for what I write, but for how I write it. Well, I’d like to think I write pretty well. I think you can compare it to my singing – certainly better than most, but not the best there is. Anyway, I think my current story, although I’ve only got a few chapters done, is coming out better than the first one and that it’ll be even better. Although so many people can’t even spell their own fucking names, I still don’t think I’m destined to “be a writer,” so to speak. Not any more than what writing I’ve already done.

Yesterday’s trip to the dentist went as expected – I have a zillion cavities. So many that he’s going to fill them in in sections and not all at once. He’s going to start with my lower incisors and my lower left molar which has been sensitive. The incisors have been especially sensitive to heat and cold lately, so I was also given special toothpaste for that. The best thing she gave me was this new thing that replaces flossing. My gums were great, according to her, and I had major gingivitis the last time I was there. There was no plaque or tartar on my teeth. The problem was between the teeth and the gum line. This was when I told her I do laze out of flossing cuz it’s so hard to do. Then she showed me these sticks you wedge back and forth between the teeth instead, and it’s so much easier. It makes the gums bleed, though, like she said it would at first.

After Cathy, the hygienist x-rayed and cleaned my teeth, they had me wait in the waiting room for a little while till they had a free room. Once they did, I was put in Mel’s room where she and the doc checked me out and made sure my retainers were snug. Two more months and I’ll only have to wear them at night.

Both yesterday and today, actually for over a week now, Tom’s been complaining about being tired and rundown. Tonight he said he felt achy and went to bed earlier. I don’t know if he’s been making this up as an excuse to avoid me, or if this guy’s really as stressed out as he says he is. He says he’s stressed out over the trailer and the lack of money, but I don’t understand how he can be that stressed out. We’re here. We’re in the house. We don’t have to prep a house to sell, deal with quacks and cons, deal with hotels, etc. So what if we’re a little tight for the rest of the year? And why is he so stressed out over the trailer? We’re not paying for it.

Then I got to thinking – maybe this man isn’t as strong as I always gave him credit for. Maybe he really can’t handle much, and maybe he really couldn’t have handled being a father and if he’s this stressed out over a trailer, then I can surely see why he’d do everything he could to dodge fatherhood. Well, don’t worry my dear. God took care of that long before we met.

I’m not sure whether or not to do a schedule rollover or not as I did after my last dentist appointment. They may not be booming by right now, but they very well may start up again before I can get my schedule flipped.

SUNDAY, JUNE 18, 2000 I’m feeling a little off today. I’m tired because I haven’t been sleeping well lately. We had more storms last night and a clap of thunder woke me up at fucking 4:00. I couldn’t get back to sleep for a couple of hours and when I finally dragged myself out of bed at 11:00, I was still pretty beat. Lately, I either haven’t been sleeping enough or I’m waking up every hour or two. I’m beginning to wonder when I’ll get a good night’s sleep.

I’m still spotting and so far, the one thing that has been faithful and consistent (a full flow) hasn’t happened yet. I’m stuck, though, which may be a good sign. It’s common to be stuck before your period, so maybe I’ll have a flow tomorrow. My tits certainly feel like I’m in for a real period. I had Tom look up my spotting symptoms online and he said they mentioned birth control doing that or menopause, but this can happen 10 years before menopause. Well, I am about 10 years from menopause, but I’m more convinced that my hormones have gone awry.

Earlier, when I stepped outside to feed the animals, I could hear someone playing a live bass somewhere towards the front of the house. At least it can’t be heard in the house with all the appliances running.

Later…

We had a 5-minute rain shower. It cleaned our dusty skylight off nicely and even sheeted down the back windows, but the front and side windows are still a bit dirty.

Later…

Now the rain is hitting the front windows after I’ve gone out to wash them myself with the squeegee. I can’t believe all this rain! And in June, too. I’m sure it’ll thunder on and off for the next 12 hours, so I can forget about a peaceful night’s sleep tonight, too. It’s better than some rude shitfuck waking me up with its stereo, though.

I tried getting a shot of a rainbow, but it wouldn’t come out. Both of us took some beautiful cloud formation pictures. I also took a few pics of him raking the mound of dirt in the back that was built up from when they dug the septic, to make room for the trailer to come in. Tom found somebody to haul it that’s registered with the BBB. We’ve learned our lesson about checking people out before hiring them, although either way, I’m sure they’ll fuck up somehow, some way, cuz 95% of the population is stupid and incompetent. And besides, that’s just our shit luck for you. Anyway, one of the pictures of Tom working looks really cool. It looks like there’s a ghost behind him when it’s really the powdery dirt he stirred up.

It looks like we won’t be screwing today because of the aches and pains he’s acquired from raking the dirt. I know it’s hard work what he did, and he hasn’t worked out for a week, but I wonder – is this guy really in such shit shape? I work out every day and do strenuous, rigorous exercises, yet I’m not sore. So I wonder – is he using that as an excuse for a lack of interest in sex, or what? If he’s not interested, that’s fine, cuz I’m not either. Neither of us has shown any desire all weekend long. I also wonder – does he buy me the things he buys me out of the goodness of his heart only? Or is it to make up for his lies and controlling ways? The last time I bitched about how I didn’t appreciate knowing he wouldn’t do his part to support me should I ever decide to have invitro, he said he’d “try to do better.” No thanks. I don’t want him to try to do better to support me with anything. He either supports me or he doesn’t, but he can’t try.

He bullshitted me about cleaning his office this weekend like he said he would and like I knew he would. Why is my husband such a liar? When he says he’s going to do something, it’s hit or miss. He faithfully sticks to burning trash on weekends, but hell if he’ll clean his fucking office! And he never intended to in the first place when he told me not to bother and said he’d do it himself. He knew he wasn’t ever going to do it. Why couldn’t he just come out and tell me he wanted to trash the place? He wants it trashed with clutter. That’s all he wants. He doesn’t want it dusted, vacuumed, neatened or uncluttered. But yet he couldn’t just come out and say so if he wasn’t up to doing me the favor of having to live with an uncluttered office for the sake of my allergies.

SATURDAY, JUNE 17, 2000 It’s been quiet and peaceful like it is 99% of the time around here. Again, how nice it is not to hear screaming, barking, music, and balls bouncing. How nice it is to look out the window in front and see nothing, instead of carports, houses, people, cars, basketball hoops, etc. We did see and hear some cool lightning and thunder, though. It stormed a little, but not much. It was partly cloudy all day, then it got pretty windy and the clouds turned nasty looking. We only got hit by the edge of the storm and therefore, we only got a few drops of rain. Not enough to completely wet the ground and clean our dusty windows. I got a couple of neat cloud formation pictures, but not the rainbows or the bright, distinct lightning bolts. I can still hear thunder. The power went in and out a few times. It’s so cool looking out there right now. The ground and sky are almost the same color. Everything’s got a golden-brown tint to it. It’s because of the dust still stirring around.

We went to sit out front on the steps for a while, and now the rodents are even coming out while we sit out there! Evelyn, who says they are prairie dogs, says they come right up to you at the zoo. Well, these pals now know I bring them food, so maybe they’ll eventually come up to me the way the pigeons did so I can get a really good picture of them.

I’ve been seeing fewer lizards lately cuz they go by temperature, not the time of day. So, they’re out real early, before I get up, and they come out at sunset.

Yesterday I ended up being up for 18 hours. I just couldn’t sleep. When I finally fell asleep at 4:00, I thought I’d sleep till noon or later, but I was up at 10:30.

I’m measuring out at 35½ for my tits, 29 waist, 37 hips, and 22 thighs. It’s nice to know my hard work is paying off. Yeah, right! All I’ve lost is an inch from my thighs and tits – big fucking deal. Tom reminded me that we don’t measure the other areas where I’ve gone down – the backs of my upper thighs, my lower back and upper abs. Yeah, but that was a long time ago. When am I gonna move on and go down in other spots for a change?

His mom got me a pattern book for Barbie clothes and gave me some more material. This was really nice of her, but it’d be nice if I could find patterns for porcelain dolls, although Tom says we can improvise. I also appreciate the fabric she’s given me, but most of it’s too skinny for porcelain doll clothes. The material’s in strips and I don’t care to make Barbie clothes. Still, for practice, he and I made a pair of shorts using the not-so-nice material. We got new needles for the sewing machine, but I’d just assume sew doll clothes by hand, being as little as they are, cuz the sewing machine isn’t very reliable. I still want to get more fabric, elastic, Velcro and snaps.

Tom said not to expect them to go booming by today since another plane went down. Damn! That’s a lot of planes going down. No one was killed, though. The pilot ejected.

The last time we went out, I paid closer attention to the house diagonally in front of us and it’s not directly across from next door. It looks like they too, have a bare parcel in front of them. Speaking of parcels, I had a really cool idea. I know this is pure fantasy, but oh how I wish we could buy George’s land in back of us. That way we could control what goes on back there.

Tom told me that he heard that Springfield and parts of Connecticut had an earthquake and I was like – yeah, right! He said he heard someone say they get that there from time to time. Bull shit they do. I lived there for 26 years without experiencing any earthquakes.

Tom and I both watched Carol in When a Stranger Calls Back, and she is sooo hot! Although she’s actually very average-looking, she totally turns me on. There’s just something about her and I just can’t get her off my mind. I can’t stop thinking about her. All I do day and night is fantasize about her, but it’s such a fun thing to do! I’d rather fantasize about her than get together with him tomorrow evening and go through all that boring hard work just to get him hard. I do him for 10 minutes, then he goes in me for about two, then pulls out when he’s close to cumming. All that hard work for just a hard-on? Please! I thought it was the guy that’s supposed to do more work than the woman, anyhow?

Today marks two weeks that I’ve been spotting. I thought I was going to have a real flow when I got up, but all I had was a little gush when I first got up (things settle in you when you’ve been lying flat for so many hours), then nothing.

I’m still stressing out over that all-day allergy attack I know is due to hit any moment, and I’m just hoping and praying it won’t strike when I’m out. We probably won’t be going out to Red Lobster this year, either.

FRIDAY, JUNE 16, 2000 Woke up at 120 pounds, rather than 122, because we decided to go to Red Lobster Monday. Instead, we went to Sun Lake’s Dairy Queen after stopping in Walgreens and all I had was a small shake. I also could still be watery and in for a real period within the next few days, although I’m still spotting on and off. Lastly, I haven’t shit much in the last couple of days. I’ve shit, but not much. Maybe after a good flow and Red Lobster, I can work on getting to 117 pounds. I’m trying to look at it as many short-term goals, rather than one big long goal of losing around 20 pounds. After I achieve 117, if I can, I’ll strive for 115, and so on and so forth.

Wow! I just saw the biggest dust devil ever! It really looked tornado-like and if that had hit the house I certainly would’ve felt it. I managed to get a fairly decent shot of it, but I wish I could’ve gotten to the camera as soon as I saw it. The funnel was tall, skinny and very distinct. I could even see the swirling motion and it had to be a mile away.

When I went out to feed the rodents, they didn’t even go in their hole this time. They just moved back till I went back inside, then they came running for the food. They’re getting more and more used to me. I think they even look forward to seeing me lately. They love the treats I bring them which, I’m sure, makes their lives easier.

Tom said that yesterday during his lunch break, he went to a place to get a new printer, but they didn’t have what we wanted, so he got some Epson cartridges and I printed out all of Tammy’s pictures, which are ready to go to her. I need another cartridge or a refill kit to do Art and Doe’s. Meanwhile, I’m still full on black and left a little color so I could print text.

We left at 5:00 and went to Walgreens first. I took some pictures along the way, but they didn’t come out too well because the digital camera we have doesn’t do distances well.

At Walgreens, I got a Barbie that came in a pink floral dress. The dress is nice, but it’s sort of 60 or 70ish, so I threw it on the doll I got from Ma and put a blue glittery bathing suit on her. Now I have a dozen Barbies. This one’s hair is more like gold/blond, rather than yellow/blond.

I got an ‘I love you’ suncatcher. It’s a hand in the form of the initialed sign for “I love you.” I put that in my office window.

I also got some neon computer paper and a glass cactus figurine that looks way better than I thought it would. It’s in the den and it reflects light really pretty. Even at night.

Although they did have that stuff that’s supposed to balance your hormones, I decided to wait on it cuz I wanted to get the other things I got. I was originally planning on getting a couple of puzzles with some coupons I had, but couldn’t find any I liked.

Tom’s had a stressful week at work. I hope things get better for him, but I doubt they will. As long as people are going to be so stupid and as long as he’s gonna have to do other people’s work for them, he’s gonna be under stress.

I’m under stress myself right now. I’m due any day now for an all-day allergy attack and I’m wondering – will it hit Monday when we go out to eat? Tuesday at the dentist?

Dan’s definitely gone. I haven’t seen any lights on over there, it’s quiet, and as Tom said, his front gate is shut when it usually isn’t.

They didn’t boom anymore yesterday after I heard them in the morning. Today they boomed just before 9:30 this morning, but only a few times this time. I haven’t heard them again since.

THURSDAY, JUNE 15, 2000 Received my anniversary present from the military today. Yes, they’re definitely back to booming again for sure, and the date makes sense. I knew they’d start either on the 1st or the 15th. So, no going off schedule for a while after my dentist appointment. I can’t anyway, what with the trailer coming in. If they boom as long as they did last time, they’ll be booming till September 1st. I heard them just after 9:00, which proves I really did pick the best time to get up. They had me worried there for a minute. I heard boom after boom. About 20 of them close together and I was like – wait a minute! You mean they’re gonna boom every few minutes instead of a few booms 1 to 4 times a day? Well, not every day. They do skip some days. I think they were flying something like 2 or 3 times a week on average.

Woke up at 119 pounds again, but it looks like I’m going to be stuck today, and today’s the day we may go out, so I’ll be back to about 122 in a day or two. He had hoped to get off early today, but he has a meeting, so who knows how late he’ll get in? It seems something up there wants us to eat with the dinner crowd. The city’s crowded at all times, but we may only be able to go out when it’s most crowded. I want to go out, but I want to eat in peace, which is something you can rarely do anymore in restaurants. I don’t want food thrown at me and I don’t want to eat to the tune of screaming kids. What the fuck do people take little kids out to eat for anyway? Can’t they wait till they’re a bit older and a bit more civilized?

In case we don’t go out, I’m making Tom some mashed potatoes that he loves.

Carol looked OK in the movie yesterday, but this movie wasn’t worth making pictures from. I don’t think there’s a movie or show of hers out there where she looks as good as she did in When a Stranger Calls Back, and at the end of Office Killer. For being the angel of a girl who lost her mom, I’m surprised she only made half a dozen or so brief 1-minute appearances.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 14, 2000 Last night at 10:00 I heard a boom car stereo drive by, but only a few beats of music, and I don’t think it was the red car. I never saw anyone drive down those streets. All I saw by the time I got to the front window was the taillights of a car heading away from the house on the opposite side of which I saw the red car. See, I still think there are Mexicans in front of next door, or very close to them, and I still think the majority of the people living in this area are Mexicans and not white supremacists as Tom says. I don’t know if this car just visits or if it lives there, but I’d say it lives there. That’s a little late to be visiting on a weeknight, although it’s not unheard of, and most Mexicans don’t work.

For the second time, I woke up at 119 pounds and even shit, too. How is it that I miraculously got the strength all of a sudden to stick to having 1000 calories a day? Maybe I got fed up with God controlling my body. It’s been about a week now, but if we do go to Red Lobster, I ain’t holding back! There’s no way, though, I could eat 1500-2000 calories a day and expect to maintain whatever I lose. If I were to jump my calories that high I’d gain my weight back. Everyone’s different, and in my case, I think I’d have to stay around 1200-1300 calories a day to maintain.

I decided to go with sending my version of the story to publishers. Either way, it’s destined to get rejected. We probably won’t send it out till next month, though.

As I mentioned before, I got a Barbie doll with short, balding hair, and a cheap 7” doll. Well, since the 7” doll had a full head of hair, although not a great face, I put her head on Barbie’s body and ditched the old head and the 7” body. I’m amazed by how well the head fits, although the face is a bit chubby.

Yesterday, after a couple of days of trying, he got me set up so I could capture pictures from Carol’s videos in the way I did with Norah’s and Gloria’s. God never failed to remind me throughout my task how much he disapproved of what I was doing because the tape kept stopping. The pictures were a bit grainy, so I couldn’t get great pictures and I only got about a dozen, but it was still fun to do. She’s gonna be in a 1995 movie tonight, but I don’t expect she’ll look too good in it. I don’t think she looked very good in 85% of the stuff she’s been in.

Later…

I’m still spotting on and off. It’ll be interesting to see if I still have a real period this weekend when it’s due.

Tom quit working out. I knew he would. if you think I had trouble sticking to exercise plans before getting this thing, well, he’s even worse. It’s just that he’s OK with himself. Most men, unlike most women, tend to be OK with extra weight. He’s also obsessed with going in the opposite direction in which I’m going. So if he sees me working to slim down, then all the more he’s gonna hang on to his 40-50 extra pounds.

TUESDAY, JUNE 13, 2000 I’m still spotting and getting waterier and my tits are getting sorer as if I’m going to have a full flow right about when I’m supposed to – this weekend. But why the fuck do I have to spot for two weeks before my period? It used to be for a few days to a week, but now two weeks? Christ! Can’t I just get my period when it’s due and not have anything going on when I’m not supposed to? Better yet, can’t I just have a hysterectomy and be done with periods? I’m still curious about checking out that Estroven and I really think my hormones have been out of whack all along, but this doesn’t mean I think I’ll conceive if my hormones were balanced properly and if he miraculously lost his fear of cumming. If that’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, whether you have problems or are perfectly healthy. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain that the two-week spotting episode I had summer of ’96 had nothing to do with a miscarriage. It wouldn’t take two weeks to have a miscarriage, and here I am spotting for over a week without him cumming at all.

I haven’t seen any rodent activity out front yesterday and so far today. I wonder if that means a snake is nearby.

People’s stupidity continues to affect Tom’s and my life. Yesterday the poor guy couldn’t get home till around 7:00 because they just had to fuck up at work. And I told Tom I saw him getting more and more hours at work little by little. He said he’ll just leave earlier later in the week, cuz they still don’t want him working overtime. Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.

We’re going out tomorrow or the next day, our anniversary, but it doesn’t look like Steven and Dan will allow us to go to Red Lobster this year. That’s OK, though. I do love lobster, but I don’t need it, and I’ve had enough restaurants, as well as hotels, to last a lifetime.

Back in Phoenix I always had to wear dark sunglasses when I went out, but lately, I don’t need them as much when I go out. I think this is because spending time in such a dark dungeon like the Phoenix house was, then going out into the bright sunshine was quite a shock to my eyes. Here, though, my eyes are used to brightness because this house is so bright and open with its many windows.

I have a small nest with a little figurine of a couple of birds, plus a couple of little plastic eggs. I had it at the base of the pink floral tree, but I wedged it up in some branches and it looks really cool. At least we got something good out of Steven.

We’ve spoken to Evelyn and she is going to take the studio apartment and will be moved out of the trailer on the 17th. I’m excited for her and I hope her new place is quieter. She called again today saying she found out you have to get a form of some kind and wanted Tom’s work number so she could ask him about it. I guess she said she could pick it up if he wasn’t going to. We have to get a permit and he has to call the county and all this bullshit just for a fucking trailer. It’s bigger than we thought, though. She says it’s only 10’ wide, but it’s 50’ long. Just 16’ shorter than this monster.

I rewrote the end of Burned Soul the way he said he’d write it, which shortened the story from 105 pages to 85 pages, although I saved a copy of my version. The way I wrote the story was like this – in the prologue, Christina burns her house down by playing with matches and her mother kills herself at her folk’s house. For the main story – Anne, her younger sister Edie, and her mother Patrice (her father died of cancer) move in next to Colette and Don Oren and their twin girls Giselle and Liselle who are close to Anne’s age, plus an even younger girl Bailey, close to Edie’s age. Christina’s ghost haunts Anne and possesses her to kill. Christina kills one of the twins, then Anne goes on to kill her sister and a couple of classmates. At one point, Anne and Liselle, the twin that’s still alive, get kidnapped by some crazy murderer and he keeps them in his cellar till they break free and he gets thrown in jail for murder and kidnapping. Christina then possesses her mother to kill herself right in front of Anne and her boyfriend Tom, then Anne moves in with the Orens. Anne confesses her killings to Liselle and they clash and are forced to share a room. Then Anne kisses up to her to win her over. Anne tries to kill Bailey, whom she feels is a pest by mixing pills in a glass of water, but all it does is put her in a brief coma. That same night Kyle the killer/kidnapper breaks out of jail and kidnaps Anne again and they live in a mobile trailer till Anne’s 17 and Kyle dies of a heart attack. While Anne’s absent, Colette discovers her diary where she fesses to murder and shows it to the cops. Both the cops and she highly suspect Anne’s a murderer. Anne then returns to the Orens and is told she has to get a job and move out when she’s 18. Anne gets a job as a topless dancer, but tells the Orens she’s a cocktail waitress at a bar. She turns 18 and pushes the younger daughter down the stairs and Colette throws her out. Anne moves in with a lesbian co-worker. She goes back to the Orens to fetch her diary and unexpectedly runs into Colette, whom she kills. Anne knows she’s now wanted for murder, so she goes back to her apt. and dyes her hair and splits. She hitches a ride out of the area with a trucker who tries to kill her, but she kills him instead. In the epilogue, Anne gets a job as a live-in nanny and she writes evil thoughts in her diary about how she wishes she could replace the Mrs. of the house.

Tom’s version was to change it from where Anne was rekidnapped and have Kyle caught and it is learned that he had nothing to do with Anne’s disappearance. Meanwhile, everyone’s still certain Anne’s a killer. Anne was kidnapped by Christina and dragged next door to her old house which is still empty, but is shortly caught and put away when she goes out to scrounge for food. In the epilogue, a new family moves into Anne’s old house, and the girl, who’s Anne’s age, gets a visit from Christina.

Later…

Wow, I can actually hear a dog barking, but only when the AC’s off and only in the back of the house. I wonder if Dan took his 3 dogs with him if he’s truly gone? I doubt it. That’s so cruel; leaving dogs in a pen 24/7 with no one to give them any attention. He probably has next door feeding and watering them once a day unless he has some sort of automatic feeder.

MONDAY, JUNE 12, 2000 Saw Carol in When a Stranger Calls Back and she looked great. Different than in Office Killer cuz her hair was much longer but great. It was the first serious role I’ve seen her in. Most of her roles require her to be a geek of some type, but she was all business in this movie and she spoke in a normal voice. Her voice is still rather high-pitched, though.

Instead of having my entry dates in bold print, I’m now highlighting them. Yellow, bright green, and bright blue are the best colors to use cuz the others are too dark. I’ll use a different color for each month.

Later…

For 5 days now, going on 6, I have faithfully stuck to my diet. I woke up at 121 again, I’m not stuck, and I swear I’ve gained 2 or 3 pounds since being up. I haven’t weighed myself again, though, cuz I don’t need to. I know when I gain weight. I can tell. Is it truly weight I’ve gained? Is it water? It must be because I just don’t see how I could gain weight on the calories I’ve been having.

I just can’t fucking lose weight no matter what and even if I could, I couldn’t keep it off. What would it take? Cutting my calories to 500 a day every day for the rest of my life?

I saw a commercial for a thing called Estroven that’s supposed to naturally balance your hormones prior to menopause. I wonder if I’ve had a hormone imbalance all my life and if that’s why my periods are so erratic. I wonder if this stuff will regulate my periods so I get a period for a few days every 4 weeks, rather than for over a week every 2 or 3 weeks. I’ve been rotating between spotting and lightly flowing for 8 or 9 days now.

Tom finished proofreading my story and he loaded it on my computer in a new file. He highlighted typos and sentences he thought were worded funny or that didn’t make sense. I corrected all but two of the typos, unsure of why he highlighted them in the first place, so I’ll have to ask him about it.

SUNDAY, JUNE 11, 2000 Not much to update on. I’ve been in a lazy mood today, not wanting to do much of anything. I’ve been rowing away a lot of my boredom.

Tom hasn’t hit me for sex and I’m certainly not about to bring it up. I’m not in the mood to deal with that.

Because I was stuck yesterday, it set me back to 121 pounds. This is the fifth day in a row I’ve miraculously had only 1000 calories, not counting coffee, although yesterday I had an extra potato so I could shit today. I’ll end up having a little less than 1000 in food today, so hopefully I’ll be back just under 120 tomorrow.

My period finally ended after a whole week, if that’s what it was. I spotted for about 6 days, then I had a light flow, and now I’ve completely dried up. I’d love to have something go wrong that’d cause me to need a hysterectomy. I don’t need my uterus and am more than willing to give up periods altogether. It’s just that I wish that if that’s where I’m heading, it would just happen and not be a long drawn-out ordeal. I don’t need the long build-up.

Tom and I both saw Carol in Office Killer. It was so nice to see it again. It’ll also be nice to check out the other movie she’s in tomorrow.

Later…

Just when I thought Tom wasn’t going to bring up sex, he did. Well, it is Sunday, and it is late in his day. The surprising part of it, though, is his wanting to get together at 4:00 before we do a computer project we’re gonna do, rather than at 7:00 or so after we’re done. As usual, though, he’s got to take a shower first. I know good and well what he’s doing in the shower too, besides washing himself and shampooing his hair, but what can you do? If this is the way he wants it - so be it. I’m not exactly looking forward to getting together, cuz I know it’s gonna hurt like hell and I know exactly what’s going to happen.

Later…

After warming him up, we screwed. And it wasn’t painful like I thought it would be. He said I did an excellent job of warming him up (I did try harder to use more variety). There was blood on the sheets when we were through, but it must be leftover from my period cuz like I said, there was no pain. So, how do I feel about the fact that I let us get together? Mixed emotions. I wish I had the strength to say no to him for the rest of my life and ignore his feelings, but he doesn’t feel the guilt I feel. I tell myself he won’t miss a thing, but I still feel guilty. He may not want to do anything to please me in bed, but I can’t help but want to please him.

Later…

Here I am ragging again. What the fuck is going on? God, please please please let me need a hysterectomy! I’m sick of periods, erratic or not, you don’t want me having kids, I don’t want them, so why not? I’m the perfect candidate. But that makes me not a perfect candidate in his eyes. If I wanted a kid and if there was hope for me to conceive and if my husband came, then I’d be more qualified for the hysterectomy. I’m still surprised, though, knowing I was never meant to have kids, that he hasn’t had me have to have one. I’m sure he didn’t so he could tease me with it like he allowed it to be the case in the mid-90s. It couldn’t have been an issue between Tom and me, eating me up for years if he had had me have one, although I always knew deep down that fate is fate with or without a uterus.

In case I forgot to mention this before, I decided not to send Andy’s parents a letter in “his handwriting.” I don’t want to fuck him over in any way, I just don’t want him to be in my life. He’ll always be in my heart and my memory, but I don’t want him on my phone or in other places too close for comfort.

SATURDAY, JUNE 10, 2000 Another weekend of waking up free of freeloaders. And this is the time of year when the Mexicans hang outside till dawn. Hope the H’s are sound sleepers, but either way, they’re their problem now, not ours. The weekends go by fast when you’re not counting them down.

It seems Dan may have finally left, but I’m not sure. He definitely doesn’t like the heat and he confined most of his engine-gunning and music to the winter. The music part of it makes sense, cuz that’s when you can comfortably open your windows to let the sound out, and you figure others are going to have their windows open too, to receive the sound.

Today Tom’s out clearing brush for where the trailer’s going to go, but he probably won’t be able to go online to find someone to haul it till tomorrow, cuz the stupid phone company cut wires in this area and our phone’s dead. It’s a good thing we have the cell phone.

This is the fourth day in a row I’ve woken up with congestion, but there is a good side to it – I’m not as tight come the end of my day.

I made a deal with Tom, although I know he’ll break his promise to me like he usually does, and that he’s doing nothing but making lame excuses. He says he’s going to dust and vacuum his office weekly so he can leave things out, which really means so he can trash it by having it full of clutter. He said he’ll keep the door shut, too. He claims that’s the only way he can find things and keep track of his stuff, but he couldn’t find things in Phoenix where he trashed things either. I know you won’t stick to dusting and vacuuming your office, I told him, and as soon as my allergies get worse, I’m gonna go in there and box up all your clutter and take care of things myself. Then you can really bitch about not finding things. I’m just sick of this guy not keeping his word! He promised me that once we moved and he had a room to himself that keeping his shit neat, organized and uncluttered would be no problem.

I also woke up at 119½ pounds! But it totally, totally fucking figures that I can’t shit. Whenever I drop to a weight my body is not used to weighing, I stop shitting till my body adjusts to its new weight.

Later…

It’s looking more like Dan has left, but if he does decide to stay here year-round, he’s OK in the summer. As long as it’s hot he’s not a source of noise. It’s been very quiet around here. No bangers or music of any kind. All we’ve heard are the sounds we make. It’s been the way it should be. Especially for being in a rural area.

I’m so confused still. Torn between having sex and just letting myself be Tom’s submissive and letting him control the sex, and saying no, not till you do it my way at least some of the time.

Like I said, the issue’s no longer a case of me having to have a child. The issue is – how can he be so damn contradicting and how can he lie like he has? What man that says he wants a kid and that’s like he is (unless he wants to be like he is) doesn’t do anything to get help and see if he has a shot at a kid naturally, even if the odds are a million to one? What? Would he prefer the invitro over the natural way if he had the choice? How can he have sat back and watched this issue eat at me year after year and not do anything to help/change things? I’m still glad we never had a kid up till now, but I know that if I were him back in the mid-90s and I said I wanted a kid and I saw how my wife was torn up over not being able to have one, I’d want to do everything I could to help change things.

Unless I didn’t want a kid.

And unless I didn’t want my wife to have a kid, either.

Earlier he gave me a series of lame, senseless excuses like he’s done ever since I’ve known him. He said something about how he’s doing all he can and how his understanding of how I feel that and about my family and the people in Phoenix, and us moving here is connected to changing how he is, etc., but that’s all fucking bullshit. What the fuck does my family and old neighbors have to do with his not cumming and being so controlling in bed? Except for any mail I’ve sent these people or plan on sending, these people are a thing of my past.

He’ll never change. Never. Because he doesn’t want to.

FRIDAY, JUNE 9, 2000 Been here for 8 years! Right this moment 8 years ago, I was either in Greenfield talking to Sheila, or at Boo and Max’s in Longmeadow. I know I took a nap for an hour or two at their house before leaving for the airport. My plane took off at 4:30 ET. I landed at 7:30 AZ time and 10:30 ET time.

For the third time, I’ve decided to change the title of my current story. First I started off with A Matter of Priority, then it became He’d Stop at Nothing, and now I want to make it He’ll Stop at Nothing. I think it sounds better.

Later…

I finally spoke to Lisa. It was a spontaneous decision to call. I looked at the clock, and knowing school was out and that Tammy would probably be at Mark’s store, I called. Sure enough, Lisa answered. I reminded her that my silent treatment had nothing to do with her and that I still loved her very much and missed her tremendously. I also told her we moved, were happy, and that I didn’t want to give our address or number, not because I didn’t trust her, but because she could slip. Even the smartest, most trustworthy people can slip, and I don’t want the information to end up in the wrong hands, even the worst that could come of it would be unwanted mail, or more likely, unwanted phone calls that would never get answered, thanks to caller ID. Speaking of caller ID, Tammy’s got it. She never had that as long as I knew her, and I’ll bet you anything that she got it around the time we moved to see if she could get our number if I called. I hope to hell I remembered to block any calls I’ve made to her, as well as to Larry and Sandy’s parents. I did get a private hang-up after calling Sandy’s folks, but that could’ve been anyone and my guess is that Tammy doesn’t have the number, or else she’d have called by now. At least I blocked it out this time for sure.

Anyway, like I’ve told Lisa before, my not contacting them has nothing to do with her. I just got fed up, especially with Doe, Art and Larry, etc. She claims she hasn’t talked to Larry in over a year and I do believe her this time because by now Larry would be fed up with dealing with her. Especially when he realized he couldn’t spite Tammy and replace Larry by getting custody of her. And because of the close connection to Tammy. Her being Tammy’s daughter would be enough to drive him away. Lastly, I’d hope that Lisa would’ve learned her lesson about people like Larry by now. Again I told her that she has to do what she has to do, but if she knows what’s good for her, she won’t contact Larry ever again. She said she still keeps up with her singing, but that I have no idea what her life has been like, in a not-so-thrilled tone of voice. I let her know that I’m sure I did have an idea of what her life’s been like. I asked her if she was still smoking and she said yes and that at least she was being honest. I appreciate that, I told her. I’d rather her tell me something I didn’t want to hear that was true than a nice-sounding lie.

I wasn’t surprised to learn that Tammy is going to marry Mark and that they’re moving in with him. Then she’s gonna sell the house. She finally gets to move after 15 years of being cramped in that tiny house. I knew it’d come down to this too, and I’ve noticed a pattern; relatives and friends always seem to move around the same time. Within a year of each other. At least she didn’t marry Mark just 5 minutes after meeting him unlike with the others. Maybe she has broken the abusive-men cycle she was on. And maybe she can and will defend herself and put her foot down in the future if need be, but hopefully there won’t be a need to.

I signed off by letting Lisa know I loved her and might contact her every 6 months to a year and that it’d be best if we didn’t contact each other regularly. She gave me Mark’s number and advised me of his Caller ID. I’m still perfectly OK with never seeing Doe, Art, Tammy or Larry again because they are that detrimental to my emotional state and to my overall sanity, but I sure do miss Lisa!

Later…

Got quite a surprise from Ma. I had asked if she had any doll patterns, never expecting to get that, and a couple of dolls, too! One’s a Barbie-type doll, although it’s not Barbie. The other’s a small, cheap 7½” doll. I can tell these dolls are quite old, too. From the 60s or 70s. The Barbie and Barbie-type dolls of today tend to have hair past their asses. In the 60s and 70s, they tended to have short hair or hair no longer than the waist. This doll has short red hair, including a bald spot I covered using an old ribbon as a headband. The other doll has curly brown hair to the middle of its back. Anyway, we’ve got a pattern for a few different outfits, including one to make a teddy bear with. Got a seam-ripper too, which I’ve been wanting. I lost mine years ago. Tom’s gonna do the math to improvise anything we make for the porcelain dolls cuz the patterns are for dolls smaller than they are. It looks like I got blue and gold lace and a few pieces of material. A little scrap of blue vines on a white background. A solid melon-colored piece. And a pink piece with white flecks. For now, I’ve got the Barbie-size doll in one of the spare Barbie dresses, and the little one’s naked cuz I don’t have anything that fits her any more than I’ve got anything that fits my 17” plastic doll.

Ma also gave us an anniversary card and a check for the usual $25, but Tom says we’re still on for the printer.

Tom said they were doing some construction here in town which held him up a bit (he called from the cell phone) and I was like – Here? Here in Maricopa, we’ve got construction holding us up?

THURSDAY, JUNE 8, 2000 I awoke to an overcast day. It’s nice to have for a change. The sun’s been popping in and out of the clouds all day. Rare weather for Arizona and common for New England.

I unpacked the dolls that I had stuffed in boxes in my closet and set them up again because I know it’s just a matter of time before I have another allergy attack for no apparent reason at all.

I’m proud of myself for having only 1000 calories yesterday. It may have been a little more counting the coffee I had. I wish I had the willpower to do this every day. If I could be consistent, I could probably get down to 110-115 pounds. I was 122 yesterday and today I woke up at 120½. I still can’t imagine ever dropping below 120.

Later…

Larry’s sick uncle is another one on my mailing list to receive a letter, but I had to address it to G Exterminating, cuz the fucker’s not listed. That’s because I called him enough times to cause him to get an unlisted number back in the mid-80s or so. So now there are 4 associates of Larry’s that’ll be hearing from me. Sandy’s parents, Sandy’s brother (I think he’s her brother), Jenny C and Ronnie G.

I made the mistake of letting Houdini run around free for an hour last night. At the end of the hour, which was all I’d allow him to stay out, he made me chase him all over the master suite! I finally trapped him in the shower stall and trickled some cold water on him. Naturally, he wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of taking a shower. He was too fast for me. I knew he’d just run by me if I opened the shower door. So I opened it a crack and put a tube up to the crack and trapped him in the tube and brought him home in that.

I worked some more on my He’d Stop at Nothing stalker story last night. It’s off to a good start.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 7, 2000 This is the second month in a row I’ve had mid-cycle spotting, but it’s better than the pain in my side I sometimes get. And when I say mid-cycle, I mean close enough to it, if not right on the nose. I heard you can bleed when you ovulate, but this is a bit much for that, so who knows why my periods have gotten so erratic and why I have spotting at weird times? My guess is that it has to do with a hormone imbalance which probably accounts for why I could never conceive, on top of my husband’s dry, limp dick.

I’ve completely ditched him sexually. I’m so fed up. If he wanted to drive me away sexually, he finally succeeded, for I cannot take one more year of the same old fucking bullshit. It’s boring, it’s old, it’s predictable, and I’m sick of being controlled and lied to. He’s totally killed all my interest in sex. The only way to eliminate 95% of our fights is to drop the sex and forget about invitro. Even if I wanted a kid as bad as I used to – he wouldn’t allow it. He’d interfere with my conceiving, and if he didn’t, God would make sure I miscarried. I’m done for sex and any talk of invitro.

He made a grid to make adobe bricks like the Indians did. He wants to make a garden with a wall that’ll keep animals out, so he’s making bricks out of mud. I’m amazed at how hard they dry up to be.

Later…

Tom called from work and I bitched him out for not straightening up his office so I can dust it easier. He’s so stuck on having things his way and trashing that fucking office of his. Again he said he forgot, was sorry, and made some lame excuse about having things on his mind. Yeah, it’s the same bullshit week after week, as usual, so who cares?

He also told me that because the machine ate up the ATM card, he would have to go to a branch to see if the stock money came in, but he didn’t want to take the time to do that, so he was going to go borrow the money from ma till he could get our money. But that will take even longer. It’ll take even longer to drive to his mother for money than to drive to a bank and wait in line. I’ll ask him more about it later.

It turns out I was very wrong about my suspecting that the teacher I had in 5th grade was dead. I called her son’s place after looking up the number on the net and she’s not only very much alive, but she’s still teaching in Longmeadow! I didn’t talk to her son, though. I spoke to some old lady and told her I was in Arizona and was once a student of hers and wanted to surprise her with a letter. Oh, yes, I do intend to send a letter too, letting her know that she, along with the other teachers, should be ashamed of themselves for looking the other way. These people had to know I was being abused. No child acts out like I did without a reason, and they did nothing to help me. I threw in a fib too, saying I dated her son, who’s the same age as I am, in the late 80s. That oughta surprise and confuse her and her son. I can picture her son being like – What? I never dated any such person!

Anyway, I’m surprised she’s still teaching. I would’ve thought she’d either be dead or retired, but she’s only 62. I guess that a person in their late 30s seems much older to a 10-year-old.

Later…

They were right when they said that doing the inner thigh exercises wouldn’t make them smaller. All it did was make them firmer. All any of these exercises do is firm things up. They do not change size/appearance. In order to do that, you have to lose weight, and that’s just not something I can do, so I have to settle for feeling firmer and that’s it.

Later…

Tom’s home now. It seems I misunderstood him. He said that instead of going to the bank he decided to go see his mother at the center she’s at during the week, not that he was going to see her to save time. He said his ma was psyched to see him and that she’s being well cared for at the center. That’s a relief to hear.

It seems one of the jokes that I wrote in my last letter to her was a bad idea. She’s too out of it, I guess, to have realized I was joking, and I even said so too, but I guess I should’ve known better. It seems I’m always saying something wrong, although Tom says it’s no big deal. In my last paragraph, I jokingly said that we were outside when I spotted a snake and snuck up behind Tom with it and wrapped it around his neck. Then I signed off by saying – P.S. Just kidding about the snake. Anyway, from what Tom told me, she was asking him – Did she really pick up a snake?

My vibes about the teacher being dead may have been way off, but my July vibe on the trailer looks like it’s going to be right. Evelyn called saying she has an appointment Monday to check out an apartment and that if she likes it, she can move in on the 15th. Meanwhile, she wanted to know how Tom wants to do the title. I guess all she needs to do is sign it over to us so it’s in our name, then we’ll probably have to get it notarized. I’m just as happy for her as I am for us. She’s in Mexican hell where she is in this dumpy old trailer park. When she described the car stereos, the Mexican bands, the drugs, I was thinking – are you sure you don’t live on our old street?

TUESDAY, JUNE 6, 2000 Oh, I can’t believe how stupid I am! How utterly fucking stupid of me! I put the rats in with the large group of mice in the big tank while I was doing their cage and Houdini viciously attacked and killed Toughie. He went for the throat and she was dead in seconds. This was no pin-the-opponent play game, either. This was a vicious attack meant to kill. Fortunately, the other mice stayed safe within the tubes. I’ve done this a few times before and there were no problems so I didn’t expect there would be this time. Still, how dumb of me to take chances like this! It’s my fault as much as Houdini’s, and despite what he’s done, I still love the murderous bastard.

I sort of fibbed to Tom when I called him at work about it and told him that the rats were in a tank right next to theirs and that Houdini jumped into their tank. I’m OK with lying to him every now and then about things like this and like the basketball hoop I had removed, and the breakfast I walked out without paying for. After all, he’s lied to me about much more serious things than that. So, unless he reads my journals, he’ll never know the full truth.

Later…

And another Mexican called! That’s the fifth Mexican to call this number in the last month or so. What is it with all these Mexicans calling us anyway? This one didn’t have the guts to talk when it left a message. All I heard was its TV. I asked Tom if there were ever more whites than Mexicans in Arizona and he swears there are more whites right now. He says it’s Mexican culture to hang outdoors and white culture to hang out in their houses, so that’s why I see more Mexicans when we go out. Yeah, that makes sense. Just like with the blacks, those Mexies always did have to be outside where they could be noticed. Always got to make a scene and get attention. I just dread the day when some Mexican moves in behind us with her 5 boyfriends, 10 children, 15 uncles and aunts, 20 cousins, and 30 “friends.” Where there’s one Mexican, there are 50. They’re like ants. One big trail of ants. It’s no wonder they huddle in groups, though. They know just how much whites are fed up with them and how much they hate them that they probably feel safer in groups, the insecure mother-fuckers.

Later…

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!! Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee!!! I saw part of a soccer game Tom was watching live in Foxborough, MA, and damn is it raining like hell there like it does nearly every day between April and September! What’s even funnier is that it was 48° in Springfield the last time I checked, which means they’ll be in the 30s by early morning!! Oh, yuck!! Thank God I still don’t live there!!!!! Imagine it being that cold in June!? Ugh! Tammy’s got it a little better than Springfield. It’s up to 55° where she is. Ha, ha! Meanwhile, we’re in the middle of a drought and I’m sweating my ass off in the 110° we’ve got. Their highs are lower than our lows.

MONDAY, JUNE 5, 2000 We were out earlier washing the car, which was caked with dirt and bird shit. It was so hot out there, I should’ve had my suit on and should’ve hosed myself off. The water from the hose, which I sprayed my arms and legs with, felt great.

Mary called needing Tom to take mom to have her toenails clipped and an x-ray done this Friday, cuz Mary has to go to an appointment herself this Friday.

My hair has already started to grow back. It became quite noticeable a few days ago but is still way short compared to what I usually have. It’s barely to the middle of my back. Probably a couple of inches above it. I wish I could do something about its thickness!

We sold some stock so Tom says we’re definitely getting the printer as soon as we get the money, and I guess he’s going to pay off bills so we can be current, too.

SUNDAY, JUNE 4, 2000 Yup, Carol looked awful. But only her short curly hair. Her body looked great.

Tom and I talked about the possibility of me rewriting the last half of my story, but I don’t know. I like his idea for an ending as much as I like my ending, but we’ll see. It may delay my getting it off to a publisher by more time than I’d like, even though I’m not going anywhere.

Later…

Last night I was contemplating making up some excuse myself to get out of a predictable and boring sex session, but it turned out that I didn’t have to. I had the runs 4 times today. Also, he decided to “surprise” me by doing something different at a different time. In the middle of the day, he suggested we take a nap together. How convenient. Of course, he’d pick this weekend to do that instead of screw. I’m mid-cycle. Anyway, I can’t say I fully appreciate his half-assed effort. I mean, what kind of a “surprise” is that? I want to be surprised by not knowing what’s going to happen in bed, not by taking a nap. He’ll have to come up with something better. This is it. I’m now ready to take sex away from him without any guilt. If he can take what he’s taken from me without any guilt and without any concern for my feelings or desire to do anything about them, even if it’s only every now and then, then I shall take, too. But not without teasing him along the way as he’s done to me in the past. Every weekend I’ll have an excuse.

Cool. My spell checker is working like it did in the old version of this program and how I prefer it to work by not going to the beginning of the document just because I wanted to check the end of it.

Tom told me we’re definitely on for the printer this June. It’s about fucking time! Now I can finally get those pictures off. I’m sending Doe and Art my story as it currently is, but I changed most of the characters’ names to names that are familiar to them. I asked Tom if he thought they’d read it and he said his guess was that they’d probably read some of it, but then stop when they came to familiar names and didn’t like what they were doing. Why didn’t I think of that? That’s exactly what they’ll do, no doubt, and that’d be totally like them too, cuz they’re sensitive in that way. Too bad they’ll get to miss the exciting conclusion (the epilogue I wrote just for them). Doe, Art and Tammy may not find their mail too surprising, but boy, is Larry in for the shock of his life. He is not going to expect the tape, let alone for me to send his associates letters after all this time. After all, it’s been how long since I dumped him? Almost two years now, I think (I decided I’d write out the numbers one and two but not spell out others).

SATURDAY, JUNE 3, 2000 Eight weeks of working out and I’m still within the area I started. My tits, waist and thighs are down about an inch, but my hips are up. Tom says I’m losing weight in pockets, which is normal, and that it takes a long time to really see results. He said I probably won’t see noticeable changes in my hips till after 24 weeks of working out (not till October). I still think I’m going to pretty much maintain my measurements and that I’ll never drop below 120 pounds. Especially with all I eat. I eat 1500 – 2000 calories a day, which is almost like eating like a pig for someone my age and height.

I saw Gloria for a few minutes on TV last night and she looked lousy. Her face and body looked good, thanks to modern clothes, makeup, plastic surgery and lots of exercises, but her hair was horrendous. It was way too short.

We’re so cursed with foul smells in this house! First, there was the foul smell in the small bath which Tom took care of, then there’s the unidentified smell in the big bath that seems to come in the afternoons, and yesterday, the vents smelled like there was stale water in them like when you first turn on an evaporative cooler after you haven’t used it for a while. So then Tom came up with a great idea. To put an old closet stick-up inside the return air opening. However, the stick-up was pretty wimpy so I sprayed perfume in and it made the whole place smell really nice, but only for a little while.

I had Tom set up the headphones for the old TV in the living room since our new TV doesn’t have a headphone jack. That way I can hear the movies I tape better over the animal’s movements.

I decided to make a few changes to my parents’ copy of Burned Soul and I changed the characters’ names to names they’d know. Anne, the central murderous character, is going to be Doe in their copy. I also changed the epilogue a bit too, saying how Doe grew up to be a lousy mother, etc. In other words, it’ll be an epilogue she could relate to very well if she reads the story. I made sure to assign names of people I despise to characters Doe kills.

I remembered to tape today’s Carol movie, but I’m sure it’ll suck because it’s a 1977 movie set in the 1920s and it’s a comedy. I don’t dig comedies, westerns, science fiction or romance. I like mysteries, crime, horror, and drama.

FRIDAY, JUNE 2, 2000 I organized my office and bedroom closets.

I think I might’ve been wrong when I said they were back to booming in the sky again, cuz I haven’t heard anything other than that little rumble, which obviously wasn’t them. If it was, I’m sure I would’ve heard more than just one fly-by in 4 days.

I’m shocked to say that I haven’t heard that boom car stereo, either. Totally shocked. I was expecting it to be a regular till I put an end to it.

Stupid me, for the second time, forgot to tape a Carol Kane show. It was on this morning, but fortunately, she was just a tooth fairy in some stupid children’s show, so I’m sure I didn’t miss anything. I’m sure she was made up to look rather geeky and tooth fairies don’t exactly turn me on, either. I won’t miss the two movies that will be on the 11th and 12th. I want to see them too bad to forget them.

I still have no clue as to what causes these allergy fits I have every 2-3 weeks. All I can see as a cause is a good old case of old-fashioned God’s will. Why he insists on doing this to me, though, beats me. I guess it’s to compensate for the wheezing and asthma attacks that would land me in the ER that I no longer have but isn’t the tightness and congestion I always have enough? The shit I went through for my first 5 years of life should be enough!!! Why is he hell-bent on punishing me? Why must he always inflict some kind of pain, punishment or long-term problem on me? Can’t he just let me solve a problem without giving me a new one? If he’s not going to help me help myself with anything, then the least he can do is stay out of my way and not shoot me down any further!

Anyway, I’m still experimenting as far as the allergies go. I expanded the mice’s cages since they obviously don’t have anything to do with my allergies, and decided to pack most of my dolls away to give myself an easier time dusting for a while. I packed 19 away and kept out my favorite 14. I packed half the Barbies too, so I only have 5 out. I doubt this will help, though. Like I said, it’s God’s will no matter what. Put me in a sterile room and I’ll still have allergy problems.

I rat-proofed the bedroom closet yesterday for Houdini. He’s so cute and I love him like no other pet. It’s amazing how similar yet how different rats and mice are. All mice want is food, water, and a decent place to live, but rats are very demanding of human companionship, full of energy, and in need of being allowed to roam free.

Later…

Yesterday, some guy went down the road on a horse. I think I’ve seen them before, too. It’s so neat seeing someone go by your house on a horse!

Get this – the day before yesterday Tom made a comment while he was trying to get my scanner working about how he had had plans to surprise me with sex but wasn’t sure he could with the computer problems going on, etc. Yeah, well this pissed me off. I was like – if you wanted to screw, you’d find the time and not use my scanner as an excuse. Then he says he was only kidding, but we never did end up screwing. I wish he’d just shut his mouth and screw me or not screw me at all. And I don’t buy it. I don’t think for one minute he had plans to surprise me, cuz if you’re gonna surprise someone, you don’t announce your plans. You just do it. You don’t talk about it and then not do it. Meanwhile, I know what’ll happen – the same old, same old. Either Saturday or Sunday evening, at the end of his day, we’ll have a cumless screw or a no-screw. God, I am really getting sick of the same old piece of pie!

Later…

Tom replaced my wheel mouse with an old mouse I picked out years ago till I can get a new wheel mouse, but I’m still having problems with the scanner and the paintbrush program. I’ve had more computer problems since living in this house than I did the whole time I was in Phoenix!

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