#gotta make the appointment still- I’m waiting for them to call- and I gonna do it after summer so I can swim | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doyelikehaggis · 11 months ago

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I’m seriously missing Booby & Freddie on ee 😭 can you please write a fic where they make up and are cute and happy again? (Obviously in your own time, if you feel like it of course 🫶)

Okay, SO, I know it took me WAY too long to get to this ask, and Freddie and Bobby have already made up (though I'm not entirely satisfied with how it happened, but I guess I'll take what I can get), but I have FINALLY written a little something where our boys make up with a twist. Someone on ao3 asked me for a fic where Freddie is sick and Bobby takes care of him, so I took some creative liberties and combined the two into one. I will admit, it isn't necessarily a fic with a happy ending, so I do apologize in advance for that... I hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Freddie doesn't get sick. Ever. Even when he was younger, the cold couldn't touch him and allergies bounced straight off of him. His mum has always been so overprotective and forced a jacket around him whenever he's tried to go out on a grey day with just a hoodie and he's never understood it because he doesn't get sick.

When he says just that to Alfie, he's met with a disbelieving chuckle. He tries to get up out of bed but Alfie places a hand on his shoulder and gently stops him, easing him back down. Admittedly, it's a relief when his head hits the pillows again. It's weirdly heavy today, like he's lugging around a bowling ball on his shoulders.

'Alright, alright,' Alfie says. 'I believe ya, Fred, but we gotta look at the facts, alright? You're pale as a ghost and you're burning up bad. You even sound like your throat's been grated on sandpaper, alright, so I think, just this once, you might have a little bit of a cold, yeah?'

It doesn't make any sense. He never gets sick. He tries again to sit up -- Alfie doesn't need to stop him this time. He can barely move his upper body, a ginormous weight pressing down on it until he's forced to concede. He flops back down with a sigh.

'Alright,' he says, slightly breathless. He closes his eyes against the black dots threatening to creep into view. 'You might have a point, Alf.'

It's hard just to breathe, now that he thinks about it. Half of his nose is blocked and his throat is a bit raw.

He hears a sigh beside him. Alfie pats his leg through the covers and says, 'Right. I can't leave you like this. I'm going to cancel my appointment, stay home and make sure you're alright. You get some rest.'

Freddie forces his eyes open and stops him. 'Wait, Alf, no. You can't cancel your appointment.'

'Fred, I can't leave you like this,' he repeats. 'I don't know how long I'm gonna be at the hospital neither. What if you need something, or you get worse?' He shakes his head, pursing his lips. 'Nah. I'll just reschedule it, it'll be alright.'

'Seriously, Alf, I'll be fine. I'll just sleep the entire time, please, don't miss this appointment 'cause of me.'

'Fred--'

'It's just a cold,' Freddie insists. 'I'll be fine. Seriously, Alf, you gotta go.'

Alfie hesitates, looking doubtfully at him. He hums and haws, and he gnaws at his lip momentarily before finally, he sighs and points at him. 'Alright. Alright, fine, but I'm not leavin' you by yourself. No arguments. Kat would have my head if she thought I wasn't looking after you properly.'

He doesn't bother arguing further. It wouldn't work; Alfie's already pulling his phone out and holding it to his ear as it rings. Freddie isn't sure who exactly he calls, because he passes out a moment later.

His head is damp when he comes back round. Not just from sweat (though there's a thin layer of that clinging to his skin as well), he realizes when he reaches up groggily and finds a cloth on his forehead. It's still got a bit of coldness to it. It's actually kind of soothing.

He drops it back onto his forehead and closes his eyes with a quiet groan a second after trying to open them. Even the minimal effort drains him to the point of wanting to just go back to sleep. He rolls over, clamping a hand over the cloth to keep it in place.

Drifting in and out for a few minutes, he jolts awake when he hears a noise from somewhere else in the flat. It doesn't register as weird to him right away. He just chalks it down to Alfie crashing into things like usual, the clumsy bloke. A few beats pass as he settles back into his pillow.

Alfie should be at the hospital. There's no way he should be back yet. Which can only mean...

Groaning quietly, he forces his eyes open and pushes himself out of his bed, despite every protest from his lead-filled limbs. He nearly trips over on his way to his door. He swallows down the nausea rising like a wave in his throat and yanks the door open, admittedly using the wall for support as he makes his way down the hallway.

'Alf?' he calls out and is met with a rough, nails-on-chalkboard sound that is dragged out of him. He grits his teeth through it and tries again as he stumbles on. 'Alf, I told you not to worry about me. You should be at the--'

He comes to a stop in the kitchen. Standing by the microwave as it bzzz's away is not Alfie. It's Bobby. He looks over at him now, and while his face remains the way it's been for the last few days, there is a slight twitch in his eyebrows.

'You shouldn't be out of bed,' Bobby says, turning away from him again. 'Alfie called me and asked if I would come over to make sure you're okay while he's at the hospital. He should be back in a few hours.'

The explanation still doesn't really feel like it explains anything. Freddie stays, swaying and confused, staring at Bobby in bewilderment until he chancs another glance at him.

'You don't look good,' Bobby says. Maybe Freddie's hopeful in his sick, delusional state but it almost sounds like he's concerned. 'Go back to bed. I'm just heating up some soup in case you're hungry, but you should really be trying to sleep as much as possible. I also put a glass of water on the drawers next to your be, so you should have a few sips and take the painkillers I put there as well if you haven't already.'

It's weird how formal he's being about it, yet Freddie can't bring himself to care about that. This is the most that Bobby has said to him since... since he slept with Anna. A well-timed wave of nausea washes over him again and he steadies himself with a hand against the wall.

'Bob, why are you...' He swallows thickly, breathing only through his nose for a moment. When he speaks again, it's through clenched teeth in the fear that something other than words might slip out otherwise. 'Why are you doin' this? I thought that you never wanted to--'

'I'm here because Alfie asked,' Bobby cuts him off. He folds his arms around himself and stares firmly at the countertop as he lightly shrugs. 'He's like family to me and I care about him. I know he's going through a lot right now, so I'm not going to make it harder on him by letting my personal problems get in the way of his.'

Freddie closes his mouth. He nods, not trying to plead his case again. He's honestly too drained. Instead, he just says, 'Well, I appreciate it anyway. I'm gonna go lie back down, like you said.'

He pushes away from the wall, swaying, and holds onto it for a moment until the dizzyness passes.

Bobby notices. He hesitates, then moves towards him with a sigh. 'I'll help you. You look like you're about to collapse.'

'I feel it as well,' Freddie says, chuckling lightly. The noise is far away in the distance from his own ears and he's not even entirely sure any of this is actually real. He blinks and he's being lowered back into his bed by a seemingly invisible entity.

His eyes fall closed again and the darkness swallows him back up.

This time, when he wakes, he's drawn to consciousness by the smell of something spiced and savoury. It's funny because for a moment, lying there with his eyes closed, inhaling the familiar scent, he's sure he's back at his mum's as she boils soup to heat them both up through the winter. A smile has already found its way onto his face as he rolls over -- only to be hit with a wave of dizzyness. It comes back to him in a tidal wave that pushes him under with an unbearable weight.

He opens his eyes and inhales sharply. It's a difficult feat; he can't even breathe in through his nose. How do people cope with this? He's never felt so bad in his life. It crosses his mind that he might finally have been tracked down by Covid but he brushes it off, too tired to wonder how or why. It's probably just an average cold, even though he never gets sick.

Something else crosses his mind. Bobby. He was there, in the flat, earlier.

Freddie is tempted, momentarily, to get out of bed again and see if he's still hanging around. However, a deep ache in his limbs stops him from moving. If he's light-headed just from rolling over, there's a good chance he'll faceplant straight into the wall if he tries to stand up.

Fortunately, he doesn't need to test it. The floorboard outside his room creaks and before he can see if his aching throat will allow any sound out, his door softly opens and Bobby pokes his head inside. His eyes widen when he finds Freddie staring back at him already.

'You're awake,' he says, taking a step into the room. 'Erm, I was just checking if you were okay.'

'Didn't die in my sleep,' Freddie says, and lifts a lead-filled hand to give him a thumbs up. It drops back onto his stomach immediately. His face scrunches. 'How long was I asleep for? Felt like ages.'

'Only about an hour, I think.' Bobby toys awkwardly with the silver bracelet on his wrist. 'You should try and get some more sleep, you still don't look well.' His brows furrow as he speaks, and he steps further into the room, coming closer to him. 'Have you got a fever?'

As he asks, he gingerly presses his hand to Freddie's forehead. It's freezing against his clammy skin. Disappointment swoops down on him when he takes it away with a concerned hum.

'I'm going to get you another cold cloth to try and take it down.'

'You're a right proper little nurse, ain't ya?' Freddie jokes, attempting a grin. As Bobby averts his eyes and goes to leave, panic grips him for some reason, and all of a sudden he's holding onto his hand. 'Wait. I, erm...'

He swallows thickly and regrets it. It feels like he's swallowed glass.

'I'll be right back,' Bobby says softly. He even gives his hand a light squeeze before taking it back and leaving the room. Sure enough, he returns quickly -- or maybe it just feels that way in Freddie's slightly delirious state -- holding a new facecloth.

Freddie watches him as he gently smooths back his hair from his forehead and lays the cloth on it. Once again, the cold is soothing. He actually finds his eyes wanting to remain closed when he blinks, an odd sense of relief washing over him. At least, over his head, which felt like it was filled with an angry beehive a moment ago.

'Thanks,' he murmurs, though he's not positive the word actually leaves his mouth.

'Do you need anything else?' Bobby asks.

Freddie swallows again, this time trying to disloge the words that want to spill out. More than anything, he knows what he wants right now. What he needs. But it would be selfish to ask now for Bobby's forgiveness. He's too kind, his heart too big for his own good, one day it'll explode from trying to hold love for everyone and everything. He'd give him his forgiveness, but only because he feels bad for him, seeing him so weak and vulnerable.

It's not fair and it's selfish. Two things that only really occur to Freddie after the fact.

He looks up at him, his face dropping as another wave of panic washes over him at the thought of Bobby leaving the room again. Leaving him. Being alone has always been too hard for him to deal with, it drives him mental.

'Can you just... can we talk? Or you can talk and I'll just lie here,' he offers.

Bobby looks away from him, just like in the cafe, just like every time he's tried to talk to him since that day in the Vic.

'Bob, please,' Freddie says, even though every word is another mouthful of glass. 'I get that you can't forgive what I did, and you don't need to. I just... I need you. I need my best mate.' He bites his bottom lip as Bobby's mouth twitches. 'You can even sit here and tell me how much you hate me if you want. Just don't go.'

Something he said must've worked because Bobby sighs but he doesn't leave. Instead, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, his hands braced on his knees as he stares at the floor, shaking his head.

'I don't hate you,' he says like that should've been obvious. 'It's just... what you did, it really hurt me, Freddie.'

'I know that,' he says but he fails to think of something to follow it. Any excuse feels like just that. An excuse. 'I'm sorry. I am, I swear to you. I wish I'd never done it, Bob, and I know Anna does too. I never wanted to hurt you.'

Silence falls over them as the words hang between them. Freddie knows that they don't matter. What does matter is that he did hurt him, and he has no idea how to fix it. He can't take it back, and it's not like he can just make him a cup of tea and buy him some flowers and everything will be alright again.

Bobby sighs again. 'Look, you're ill, we don't need to talk about this. It's not like it really matters now, anyway.'

'Course it matters,' Freddie says, his brows furrowing. 'I can't stand this. I need to make it right, Bob.'

To his surprise, Bobby shakes his head. 'No, you don't.' He finally looks at him directly. 'You made a mistake, Freddie. I can't exactly hold that over you with my own track record. I just... I wish that it had been you who told me, that's all.'

'Me too,' Freddie says sincerely. 'I wanted to, for weeks.'

'But my dad beat you to it.' Bobby face contorts. 'I'm really sorry about that, by the way. About him. He should never have said those things about you, or about Anna, especially not in front of everyone like that. I think he thought he was protecting me but he embarassed the two of you, and I didn't want that.'

Freddie's confused by the sudden turn of the tables. How did they go from barely talking to Bobby apologizing to him? He manages to push himself up slightly on his elbows, groaning behind clenched teeth as it takes a good chunk of his energy to do so. Still, it's worth it. Until the cloth falls off his forehead.

'Here,' Bobby says, already scooping it back up and pressing it gently to his skin once more. He holds it there. 'You really don't look well. Have you talked to a doctor? Or Sonia. She's a nurse, she might be able to help. Actually, let me call her, she might be able to come over.'

Freddie barely has time to process what he's saying but quickly stops him when he pulls out his phone. He can't help it; he smiles, big and stupid, because it hasn't been like this for ages. 'Nah, no need. Just a cold, innit?'

'But you told me you don't get sick,' Bobby argues, growing visibly more concerned.

'I don't, usually. Guess I just got unlucky this year.' He shrugs. 'Maybe it's Karma.'

The words slip out before he can think about them. He worries that they'll drive Bobby away again, not finding any humour in the situation, and why should he? Freddie's the idiot for thinking it's alright to joke about, but he's sick and his brain doesn't work at the best of times, never mind when it's covered in germs.

Germs. He stares at Bobby in confusion, still holding the cloth to his forehead. Sitting on his bed, right beside him. Touching him.

'Hey, I thought you didn't like germs and you know, things like this,' he points out. 'Your OCD.'

It only occurs to him after he's said that maybe bringing it up could trigger it if Bobby hadn't thought about it.

If that is the case, he doesn't let it show much. Bobby's expression twitches a little, and he nods, raises a shoulder, and he says, 'Yeah, I don't, but... I can keep it under control when it's not too bad. Besides, I'm not that scared of getting sick. It might mean I don't have to sit through another True Crime documentary at Sonia's.'

Freddie cracks a smile. He has a thought but it doesn't make it beyond that stage, cut off as Bobby speaks again.

'And... somebody has to look after you,' he says, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

'Well, I'm glad it's you.' At Bobby's quizzical expression, he lightly raises a shoulder. 'No one else around here's got a great bedside manner, if I'm honest. Alf tries but the bloke makes me more worried about him half the time.'

It isn't funny, even he knows that, yet Bobby laughs like it is. Ducking his head, shoulders shaking with mirth as he lifts his eyes back up to him, sparkling, pressing his lips together like it'll do anything to contain it. Even if it worked, nothing could tone down the pink that rises to his cheeks automatically.

It's something that Freddie's noticed before. The way he literally lights up when he's genuinely happy. He hasn't seen it in a while. Before he knows what he's doing in his somewhat delirious state (or at least that's the excuse he'll use if Bobby asks for one), he's reaching out and touching the back of his fingers lightly against the faint blush.

Bobby freezes, his eyes darting to his hand. When they slide back over to Freddie, though, he doesn't say a word about it. He presses his lips together again in a faint smile before taking his hand gently in his own and readjusting the cloth on his forehead like some nurse in a World War 2 movie. Freddie remembers watching a lot of those for school. He always reckoned it was pretty romantic; having someone care that much.

A completely mental thought crosses his mind. It's one of those ones where he'd just do it, let impulse take over, then take the consequences later because he can't quite compute that maybe he shouldn't. Except, he can barely keep his eyes open at the moment, let alone move his entire body. He has to settle for squeezing Bobby's hand.

'You look tired,' Bobby notes. His eyebrows have once again knitted in concern and Freddie wants nothing more than to smooth it back out with his fingers. He starts to move his hand to do it but stops when he remembers it's already being held.

''M okay,' he mumbles, but one blink feels like ten minutes of darkness. He tires not to blink at all. 'Just a bit cold.'

He hadn't realized it was true until he said it, but his body is overcome with a deep shiver in his bones, and all of a sudden it's like he's outside in the rain in just his underwear.

'That's good,' Bobby assures him. 'It means your body is fighting it. I'll see if Alfie has a thin blanket somewhere.'

Freddie mumbles something, even he's not sure what, just that it's a protest. He shakes his head and holds on tighter to Bobby's hand, stopping him from leaving despite him not actually moving yet.

'Nah, don't need to,' he says. 'Just, erm...' He blinks rapidly and does his best to keep Bobby's face in sight. 'Just keep talking, I don't wanna go back to sleep just yet. Talk to me. 'Bout anything, doesn't matter what.'

Bobby flounders, as he usually does when put on the spot. But after a moment, he inhales, and he says, 'Erm, okay. Right, well... I've seen some stuff about a new movie that I kinda wanna see. It's a prequel in a series that I actually really enjoyed. I didn't even know they were making one, or that they'd released a new book, either. I want to go and see it in cinemas but, well, I'm not really good with places like that, to be honest.'

'We can go together,' Freddie says immediately. He shifts his body to be laying on his side, tucking his free hand beneath his head as he looks up at Bobby. 'Yeah, it'll be a laugh.'

'Well, the movie's not really a comedy,' Bobby says nervously. 'It's actually a little dark, from what I've heard.'

Freddie shrugs. 'We'll still have a good time. We always do, you and me.'

'Yeah,' Bobby says, and his mouth curves into a faint smile. 'Yeah, we do.'

'Hey, Bob? I know I said no to the blanket, but could you get in here with me? I'm freezing, and I just need something to, like, I don't know what the word is, but I just think it'd help a bit, you know? Is that stupid?'

He somehow manages to keep his tongue tied enough not to admit that he just wants to be close to him. It's not a new feeling. Honestly, since the day he met him, all he's wanted is to be near him. It's like some kind of magnet, drawing him in. Right now, it's so intense he feels like he meet explode if he even lets go of his hand. Maybe that's completely mental and a bit pathetic. He doesn't care.

It takes Bobby a moment to answer. Or maybe it's only a second. It's hard to tell.

But no matter how long it takes, when he speaks, it's to say, 'No, that's... that's not stupid at all. Yeah, of course.'

It doesn't really register with Freddie that he didn't reject the request until Bobby is carefully climbing onto the bed that used to feel a lot bigger. Not that he's complaining. It's actually a relief to be so close to him as Bobby positions himself to be half-sitting, half-laying with him. Just enough for him to keep adjusting the cloth on his forehead and for Freddie to sluggishly pull his own body a few inches closer to press his head into his side.

He was right. The ticking time bomb inside of him cuts out. There's only a heavy relief and comfort as he splays his arm over him and takes a deep breath in time to the beat of his pulse. Not slow but not fast, either. Even the pressure of his ribs against his forehead is soothing.

He says something. What, though, he has no idea, because a moment later, he is asleep. For how long, he also has no idea. When he next opens his eyes, it's like it's been ten minutes and ten hours. Either way, his limbs ache a little less but are weighed down with exhaustion still.

He wonders if maybe that's why Bobby is still in the bed with him. Maybe he didn't know how to slip out of his grasp without disturbing him, and knowing him, he'd rather suffer in discomfort for hours than maybe someone else uncomfortable. Then again, he doesn't look so uncomfortable with his eyes closed, his head tilting slightly to one side as he breathes deeply. Sound asleep.

Freddie decides not to bother him. He just closes his eyes again and lets his mind and body win out this time without a fight, drifting right back off.

It's only about a day before Freddie is back to being himself. There isn't a single trace of sickness left in him as he zips right up out of his bed and into the kitchen to grab breakfast. He does have to crack his neck and stretch his limbs out a bit more than usual after being in bed for about three days straight, but aside from that, he would be willing to believe that he was never actually sick at all.

Some tupperware sitting on the side labelled "soup :)" proves otherwise. He smiles to himself. He has no idea if he actually ate any of it while he was sick, but he makes a mental note to try and remember to thank Bobby for it later all the same.

But when he sees him just two hours later, he has a much more pressing thought on his mind, pulled forth from his somewhat delirious state by the tupperware. It sits at the ack of his mind, tickling away at his brain like an itch he can't reach no matter how hard he tries.

To his relief, Bobby smiles when he sees him. So, it was definitely real. They're friends again.

'Hey,' he says immediately, stopping right in the middle of the market despite his hands being loaded with bags. 'Alfie told me you were feeling better. I was gonna come over later and see how you were doing.'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Thanks, Bob.' He wets his lips, his impatience getting the better of him as the itch begins to grow irritable, demanding attention. 'Erm, I was just wondering, though... did I say anything? You know, anything, like, weird or something? 'Cause, I just have this feeling like I did but I can't remember what it was and it's driving me mental.'

'Oh. Erm.' Bobby averts his eyes. 'Not really, no.'

Freddie stares at him. 'Come on, Bob. Now I definitely know I did or you wouldn't be actin' so weird about it. What was it? Look,' he presses on before he can get a chance to speak, 'whatever it was, I'm sorry, yeah? I was so out of it, I've genuinely never felt like that before and I think it was making me a bit... well, mental.'

Bobby glances up at him. His lips quirk ever so slightly at one side. 'Right. Yeah.' He shakes his head and chuckles, straightening up. 'Yeah, of course. No, it's totally fine. You're good, it doesn't matter.'

'You sure?' Freddie asks, raising his eyebrows. 'But I did say something, then?'

'Yeah, but it was just... like you said, you weren't yourself,' Bobby says quickly. 'The fever. It's fine, Freddie, really.'

He wants to protest and push him for an answer, slightly irritated that he still doesn't know what exactly it was that he said. It feels important; his stomach flips like a pancake when he thinks about it and his heart starts beating way too fast, and it's unnverving him a bit, actually.

Either he can see this or he just knows him too well, Bobby rolls his eyes and sighs. 'You just...' He lowers his voice, leaning in slightly even as he avoids looking directly at him. 'You said that... that you love me. Well, more that you were in love with me, actually, but it really doesn't matter. You were really sick, you'd probably have said anything.'

A flash of something comes back to him. Him, curled into Bobby in his bed, trying to get as close to his heartbeat as he physically could. Hearing the beat of it. Wanting to be in sync with it. To be with him.

Oh. Shit.

'Wait. Bob, I--'

'Freddie, it's fine,' Bobby cuts him off quickly, grinning. 'Really, it didn't bother me. Don't worry about it.'

'But, Bob, I...' His voice trails off.

Bobby is smiling at him. Talking to him. Last week, he was sure that would never happen again an he had blown any chance of ever being able to fix things between them. So, he does something he's never usually able to do. He stops himself from saying something that might undo it all.

Smiling back at him, he forces a chuckle and nods. 'Thanks.'

For a moment, they're just looking at each other. Freddie's mind is in even more chaos than usual, trying to round up every rogue thought desparate to make its escape. He's beyond grateful when Bobby snaps out of it first and remembers he was on his way somewhere before running into him.

'I need to get these to Sonia's,' he says, nodding towards her house across the square. 'But, I'll see you later, yeah?'

The four words are just enough to reinforce it in Freddie's mind. He clamps his mouth shut and nods enthusiastically, only just managing to say, 'Yeah, absolutely!' without anything else slipping out. He turns and watches him walk away, grinning. It begins to fade the further he gets and all of a sudden he's cursing himself.

He is a terrible liar, especially around Bobby. What was he thinking? How is he ever supposed to stop himself from blurting out that he might actually be completely, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with him? His shoulders sink and he closes his eyes, sighing in anguish. He is so screwed.

#oh look a wild anonymoose #ask away earthlings!#eastenders #frobby #frobbie #bobby x freddie #freddie x bobby #freddie slater #bobby beale #sickfic #light angst

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jodilin65 · 26 years ago

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SATURDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1998 A silver car just quietly dropped the bitch off. Although I don’t have a bad vibe, I’m still sure her sick pals will bring over their little kiddies at some point, so they can all raise hell for a little while.

It still pisses me off that I gotta get the doll while I’m out. Yes, the mailman’s left packages before, as Tom’s pointed out. He’s left CDs, but he’s not gonna leave a $100 doll sitting out there. So, Tuesday’s the day I’ll have it unless it’s gone to someone else. Then I have to wait a month for Patrice. I wonder if doll collecting is worth it. If it’s gonna be such a big deal getting dolls, maybe I should quit after these two.

Later…

Oh good. I just caught the regular mailman and asked if he’d be delivering on Monday. He said yes, and I told him about the package that may very well come that day and just to leave it here. He said fine. I hope so. I hope he remembers.

Later…

All’s still peaceful around here, but from 6:00 - 10:00, who knows?

I made a total pig of myself yesterday and at 118 pounds, I’m paying for it. My clothes are pretty tight. So, since there’s no room for the walker in the living room, and since walking didn’t really do much for me anyway, I’ve taken a water pill and have decided to stop eating for a while. I’ve taken vitamin pills, too, and with lots of water, juice, some tea, and coffee, I’ll be OK. I won’t do this very long or very often. It’s just that it’s soooo natural for my body to be heavy and if I just say fuck it all together and eat whenever I’m hungry, I’m gonna be 200 pounds in the long run and the more I think about that, the more I don’t like it. I may never be thin again and I may never have my old metabolism back, but I don’t want to be huge, either. I just wish maintaining the same weight didn’t take so much work and suffering! Why does it have to be so hard?

I called Tammy and told her about yesterday, then she told me something that shocked the shit out of me. Something that I almost never hear out of her mouth. Well, she said things were going well there.

There’s a movie premiering on HBO tonight that I’ve been wanting to see and on Tuesday, Gloria will be on a request show. I’m sure she’ll look shitty as all hell, but that ought to be interesting; seeing her perform whatever people call in to request.

I kind of like the computer in the living room better. It looks kind of cool where it’s at, it’s closer to the bedroom, music room, bathroom, and kitchen, and its sounds are better cuz it’s in a smaller room. The only thing I don’t like about it is that I feel like I’m vulnerable prey to kids playing in the street or next door. I feel like my sitting here will lure them right to that hoop as if they sense my presence. Well, God knows I’m here.

I better enjoy the peace from barking dogs in the living room while it lasts, cuz according to Tom, they’ve got a for rent sign up in front of that house (he says it couldn’t have been rented yet) and you know there’ll be a dog. Also, with the way their fence is laid out, it’ll be up front 99% of the time and not in back by its alley. Their front is our front, of course, so I’ll be hearing it loud and clear and having to drown it out with the fan. I can forget about my 9 PM-6 AM peace.

Tom just told me a computer game’s coming out based on John Saul’s Blackstone Chronicles series. Can’t wait!

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1998 I’m immune to Benadryl now, so who knows if I’ll get to my appointment. I thought earlier that I would, and still do, but time will tell for sure. All the Benadryl did was give me a dry mouth and make me drowsy, but it didn’t knock me out like it usually does. So, I’m gonna take Tom’s advice and not worry about when I sleep. I’ll just keep caught up. Going one day without sleep won’t kill me.

In response to my message - he said, “But we weren’t even talking about sex.” I told him that that was the only subject he’s ever gotten defensive about. Well, I’m gonna shut up from here on out, cuz I don’t want him getting the wrong idea and thinking that it bothers me if he doesn’t cum, cuz I have a feeling that may turn him on and influence him to play games with me. I want him turned on, but not by something I said. I want him to not cum if it turns him on and I want him to cum if it turns him on. Whatever he feels comfortable doing, he’ll do, and that’s fine.

Earlier, I reminded myself that God has an obsession with giving babies to women who don’t want them. I asked myself what made me so sure he wouldn’t do that to me. The answer was that I just knew he wouldn’t. But that wasn’t good enough, so I thought about it some more, then it hit me. The reason why he won’t is cuz I couldn’t handle it. Most other women who get unwanted babies may not be happy about it, but they can still handle it.

I’ll be getting my doll on Tuesday. Tom said he’d rather pick up the doll the next day if the mailman tried delivering it while we were out Monday and left a note on the door, rather than having me leave the mailman a note to just leave any packages there. This is no doubt to make me wait another day since he seems to get off on making me wait for things. Like I haven’t waited long enough already? And I know that doll will get here when we’re at Melie’s, too. No doubt about it. Can I ever get a package while I’m home and awake? Of all the times I’m out, packages just have to wait till then! They can’t get here when I’m home, which is 95% of the time, and when they do, it has to be while I’m asleep.

Mary had her thyroid removed today. God seems to enjoy having her parts go bad. Let’s see… she’s had to have her female parts removed, her gall bladder, her thyroid. What’s next?

Later…

My strong vibe is ringing true so far. The doll will come Monday when we’re out, then he’ll go get it the next day. Tom said it could come tomorrow, but nope. Monday’s the day. If it doesn’t come while we’re out on Monday, then I think we’re looking at a definite case of being misdelivered.

Later…

Today turned out to be one of the shittiest days I’ve had in a long time. God totally cursed us both today, but I’m too beat physically and emotionally to get into it now.

Although I’ve become sort of immune to Benadryl and stood up till 3 AM last night, I did get up earlier after all and only slept barely 6 hours. So I’ll expand on shit tomorrow.

Later…

I’m still hours away from going to sleep and have had some time to relax, so I’ll write about our shitty day now. Naturally, Tom was taking it so well and even saying things were wonderful and that this was a great opportunity and all that. Yeah, a great opportunity for what?

I knew it. I just knew that not only would people be wanting Tom to do for them, but that more shit would occur around here once that house sold. Eileen, the 60-something woman that Tom used to work with at AMEX called with a computer question on behalf of her granddaughter. Tom’s going to go see them on Sunday. Helping someone out once in a while is fine, though, and she pays him fairly.

It just hit me that Wendy hasn’t called in ages, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she did anytime now. Especially before we move.

Speaking of moving, I just can’t fucking wait!!! I am so sick of living in dives and having to deal with one piece of shit after another as far as this old house goes!! I was sitting in the back room while Tom was talking to Eileen when we heard this buzzing and saw sparks go spitting across the room from the plug that’s on the inner back room wall. Tom hung up the phone and yanked what was plugged into the outlet out, which was the camcorder, which is fortunately OK. Fortunately, he didn’t get zapped, either. It continued to spark a few more times after yanking the camcorder plug out and really scared the shit out of me. Tom hit it with the fire extinguisher, then took the outlet out to examine it. That was when I noticed, that after a day of unbelievable rain, the leak had spread again and was much worse. It had not only crept further up the outer wall but in towards the middle of the room, too. So I figured it was water that caused the sparking, but Tom couldn’t find any wetness close to the outlet. He thinks the outlet just failed, but I don’t know. It tripped a fuse and killed all the back room electricity. Who knows how long it’ll be before we restore electricity to the back room? Tom’s gonna go around and redo all the outlets in there, but thanks, God. Thanks a real fucking lot, you merciless, unfair, insensitive, cruel bastard!

Even the garbage disposal is out of use to us now, since its electricity is fed off of the back room. Thank God for having Tom be home when this happened and thank God, we still have electricity where the refrigerator’s plugged in and that the computers didn’t get damaged, but goddammit I’m sick of this shit! We have enough shit to do/fix in this dive. We don’t need or deserve this shit!

Not only was it frustrating and depressing, but it was unfair and it angered me. It really pisses me the fuck off to see people like Dureen and Art who lived like kings and queens when they were younger than I am, and who’ve never had to worry about money, live it up without a care in the world. And it really pisses me the fuck off to see Marjorie, whose life is virtually over, sit there with a good hundred thousand bucks or so just sitting in her account. Meanwhile, those of us who struggle and who need it, have to keep on going without and have to keep on struggling.

I want out of here sooo bad. I asked Tom why the fuck Mom can’t advance our share of the money she’s to will to us, but Tom said she doesn’t know how much she’s gonna need to spend before she dies. Watch. With our luck, she’ll need a nursing home towards the end of her time and that’ll dry up her account so we don’t get shit. This fucking user should’ve paid to fix this roof as soon as it began leaking, though, and I don’t care who disagrees with me on that one. I sit and fantasize about smothering her with a pillow! God, go pick on someone else for a change, will you? Leave the good, struggling people alone. Let someone like Dureen and Art live a day in their lives for a change in a dump. Let them struggle. Let them have to fix this and fix that.

Tom said he’s gonna think about it and decide whether or not to call someone to come in and fix the roof, or if he’s gonna do it himself during his remaining vacation days that he’s got off in November. He’s actually gonna be off more in November than he’ll be working. He’ll be off 16 days and working 15 days, but this is no way for this guy to have to spend his vacation, fixing roofs. God, don’t you have any empathy whatsoever? Can you leave the poor guy alone and give him a fucking break for a change? Can he ever spend a vacation doing fun, relaxing things?

I kind of like the idea of leaving the job to someone else, although it’ll cost more and we won’t be able to use that $5,000 to pay off our debts like we’d originally planned, but the question is - will they do the job right? Somehow, I have my doubts. The fucking cocks that did the AC didn’t seal up a gap that allowed the music room ceiling to leak and stain, so now that’s one more thing we’re gonna have to paint before we split. I asked Tom, who should know better and who I believe, if they can come, fuck up the roof, and get away with it? Meaning, can they do shit we can’t prove and get our money back on? He said yes.

If Tom’s willing to take the time to do the job, that’ll save us money, but can he fix it? Every time he’s so sure he’s got a handle on it, we’re either right back where we started or worse. What if our beautiful God who’s supposed to help those that help themselves won’t let us fix the fucking thing? Is all this shit a compensation for good, relaxing, fun times to come? I sure hope so! God, I hope so!! And we deserve it, too! We’ve had enough of this shit! We’ve struggled and gotten nowhere enough and enough’s enough!!

Do I have a bad vibe about the weekend and the freeloaders? No. I don’t have a good one either, but if those freeloaders had made a scene when I was pissed off as I was earlier, I’d have killed them! And they better hope they stay off my ass this weekend, cuz I’m not in the mood for no shit. I never am. I mean, who is? But the point of it is my moving-in-June vibe is weakening and for all I know, we have 17 months left here instead of 7 and I’m going to keep my promise to myself about the freeloaders. If I hear one more outburst from them that isn’t very occasional, there’ll be no city letters. Just my fists. Even once a week won’t cut it with me. If I hear them a few minutes every few months, I can live with that, but as long as I’m still here, they’re under my rule and thumb.

Yeah, those fucking, fucking, mother-fucking freeloaders!! If something breaks in that house, they get to have someone take care of it for them free of charge. God, I hate you and your unfair ways! Meanwhile, we gotta foot our own repair bills or slave over fixing shit ourselves. Fucking asshole freeloaders! Oh, what I would do to them if they were at my door right now or making a ruckus outside! I’d fucking kill them, so help me fucking God!!

Anyway, I don’t trust that fucking back room worth shit. I told Tom that I didn’t want to ever have to come back into that room, or at least not for quite a while unless it was to go out back or to tend to the animals. I’d have to see it rain hard several times before I trusted that the leak was fixed, regardless of who did it.

So we moved my computer, printer, and scanner into the living room. His computer’s still back there, and he’ll use the power cord that the microwave uses when he wants to use his computer. He uses the TV way more, so that shouldn’t be too inconvenient for him. Our computers aren’t networked, but again, we can just pull a cable if he needs to send or take anything from mine. I had to rearrange and deal with so many inconveniences due to this shit. I have to drag the phone cord that’s in the computer to the phone splitter in the phone here in the living room if I want to go on AOL. Can’t just log in.

I just went and checked and the stove and toaster work, which is nice.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1998 The kids are out playing ball again in the street and I guess they’ll go inside after dark. I think they moved into that house that was having the tag sale. So let me guess - they’ll be venturing over to use the basketball hoop soon enough to next door’s delight, huh? I still can’t believe the Lopez’s kids and the freeloader’s friend’s kids haven’t used it yet. Anyway, these are blond kids. The girl looked to be about 6 and the boy looked to be about 9. Can’t kids out here use their backyards to play? Why does it always have to be their driveway or the streets?

Bill pulled out at 4:30 and the bitch went with him. Haven’t heard them come back yet.

It’s gonna be another chilly one out there tonight. I had to run the heat last night for the second time this year and reckon I will tonight, too. I wish to hell it’d rain on Halloween, but I know I’m dreaming. I know it’ll be noisy next door, cuz everybody’s gotta take their kids to the bitch. The bitch can’t go to them. Well, hopefully they’ll get here after dark when it won’t be too easy to play ball, and hopefully they won’t be out late screaming since it’ll be chilly and since it’s kids who don’t usually stay up too late, anyway. I’d hope that the adults wouldn’t want to keep them out too late and I’m hoping that with the kids in tow, the adults will want to get back earlier. I mean, who’d want to stay out as late as 10:00 with kids in tow?

There were some kids and two adults that I could see standing in the Lopez’s driveway, but I couldn’t make out who they were. It looked like a woman and a man. The woman might be blond.

Tom said it’s not taking too long at all for the doll. He used to work at the PO, so he knows their procedures. He says it probably wasn’t bound for Phoenix the day it left the warehouse, and that sometimes packages sit at the PO for a few days before they deliver them. They don’t deliver certain things every day. I know when she’s coming. She’s coming on Monday while I’ll be seeing Melanie. I’m gonna leave a note for the mailman to leave any packages by our door should we get any, but the question is, will he acknowledge my request?

Bill brought the bitch back just now.

I haven’t been hungry for the last couple of days, but I know it’ll catch up to me and that my body will always compensate. By the weekend, all I’ll be able to think about will be food.

Found an old pair of earrings I can wear comfortably. I can sleep with them and use the headphones with them. They’re not hooks or post-earrings. They’re chains. The little diamonds on chains that Dureen sent for our wedding. Thanks, Doe.

I was at the stove heating up some soup when I was like, who the fuck’s banging by now? But it kept on and on, till I realized it was Blackie at the screen door banging that to come in. That’s how similar the two sounds are, though. Imagine that - stereos that sound like someone’s pounding on your door? I wouldn’t have believed it years ago and so many more people blast by with these bassy stereos than they did with the old ones. That’s the idea, though, to get attention and be heard and be noticed. They get these stereos more for the people who’ll be hearing them as they drive by with them than for themselves. That’s really fucking sick, desperate, and insecure; buying these stereos for others to hear. But that’s our lonely, selfish society, for you.

Tom measured my waist at just under 28”. That’s gotta be the lowest it’s been in over a year.

Later…

Well, I sort of spilled the beans on Tom. In a suggestive, hint-like sort of way. We were talking earlier about how everyone’s got psychological quirks, then he got all defensive saying he was afraid I’d suddenly come out and accuse him of lying about something, so he was getting all defensive about it. But I haven’t. I’ve been keeping my knowledge of his bullshitting me about getting off to myself. So unless he’s been reading my journals, he shouldn’t have any way of knowing about it, and like I said, my lips have been sealed. So I took this opportunity to leave him a message pointing out how that was a bit overkill on his being defensive, and that it made me wonder if he had anything to hide. Then I told him I wondered if I was stupid to think he’d been cumming regularly, but knew he’d come out and correct me when I’d comment on how he was if he wasn’t. I told him as long as he’s happy, it didn’t matter if he came or not and that if he was lying about it, he doesn’t have to. It only would matter, I told him, if we were trying for a kid, which we won’t ever be doing again, or if he refused to give cum for testing, but he said he would, so I’m taking his word for it. So, we’ll see what he does with this message. What I told him is true, though. I don’t care if he cums or not, but by God, he better squirt if we go for testing! If he fucks with me on that, I will be so pissed, and I won’t give a shit if it’s deliberate or not. As soon as he does, and I should listen to my strong vibes that say he will and not even bother setting myself up by going to get tested, I’ll walk right out of there. Tom, don’t you fuck me out of getting the information I want!

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1998 Tom worked on the front security door some more yesterday. It’s still not done yet, though. He has to rekey it.

Again, this address label company really wants my business. They sent 9 Christmas labels. It’s nice that they send me labels periodically, but everything’s Christmas, Christmas, Christmas! Or seasonal. Can’t they just send labels that have nothing to do with any season or holiday?

Evie told me more stuff pertaining to kids and all that. I asked her why she didn’t adopt years ago. She said she thought about it but just didn’t. She said she was a foster mother to a teenage girl for a couple of years, but that’s pretty much it.

She said doctors recommended she have a full hysterectomy back in 1981, but she refused. She said they also told her that they recommended she abort Nickolena cuz she’d be a Down's baby, but she said she was gonna take whatever God gave her.

Later…

Just called Ashton Drake since it was during normal business hours, hoping to get a handle on when the dolls would ship. The lady told me that it depends on the availability of the doll. I was told both dolls were available, but that’s not what I was told today. Patrice won’t be available for shipment till December 12th. But the good news is that Summer Dream was shipped on the 21st. That’s been a week, though. Would it take that long to get here? Or did our dumbfuck mailman misdeliver it?

Later…

Well, Summer Dream’s not coming today. He drives those by. The mailman always drives to all the houses that have packages, then he parks his little van at the end of the street, gets out and gets his satchel of mail, then delivers it up and down the street. If I don’t get her this week, then I’ll wonder who did.

Later…

On and off for the last hour or so, I’ve been hearing kids screaming in spurts, but couldn’t tell or see where they were. I took a closer look out front, though, and I think they’re associated with the house that just had a moving yard sale. The same ones that were playing in the street after dark.

Later…

There are a couple of strange-looking vehicles in the alley right now. One of them looks like a small cement truck. The other looks like the mobile home that the people behind us have, but its back is open and it’s just all one big compartment. It doesn’t look like a mobile home inside.

Bill’s working pretty late tonight. Its car is still over there, so unless the bitch is back and chatting with daddy, that ole bitch is working overtime tonight. That’s OK. It won’t kill her.

I hear it leaving now, come to think of it. Gotta make a big fucking production out of it, of course.

Although I don’t yet have a bad vibe, or even a good one, I’m not looking forward to this Halloween weekend!

Got the fans going now. The dogs were quiet throughout the day, but at sundown, they really go off. If they could talk, they’d be screaming, “Don’t leave us out here for another chilly night!”

In case I didn’t mention this before - Evie thinks I look fine at what I weigh now. Said I look less frail, healthier, happy with life. A 160-pound woman would think I look OK.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1998 Been writing for 11 years today.

The sales calls are picking up again. There was an anonymous call too, but no message. I’m sure it was Andy.

Still haven’t seen Measles. Is she nesting, or what?

Oh, no. I called Ashton Drake again and asked what “parcel post” was. I didn’t know if that was UPS or regular mail. Well, it’s regular mail. That means its chances of being misdelivered are higher. Also, it’ll be just my luck that I’ll be asleep when they come, and instead of them being left out front, they’ll leave a note to call the PO for re-delivery.

If I ever diet again, it’s not gonna be for a long long time. I haven’t really been dieting lately, but fuck worrying about getting too fat to bend over or rock out. I’m tired of the many, long hours I spend hungry. From now on, I’m gonna eat whenever I’m hungry, and if that means eating all the time, and if that means getting up to 200 pounds, so be it. I love food too much to deprive myself of it, and anyone who isn’t young who’s thin and who’s not thin due to a medication they’re on or some type of drug starves themselves. I’d have to starve to get down to 100 pounds, and then I’d have to keep starving to stay at 100 pounds. That’s no way to live. It’s just too much work trying to go 5-6 hours in between eating. I have to eat every 2-4 hours.

I quit the chromium picolinate cuz it’s become utterly worthless. I’m back to being hungry all the time, and as soon as I hit around 115 pounds, my body knows that’s too low for this day and age and resets itself back to 117-120. I can’t lose any more weight than I already have without going out of my mind and without ultimately becoming physically ill, and I can’t keep walking for nothing here. Oh, I’ll keep walking, but it’s a pity that I finally find some exercise routine I can stick to, only to have it not do me any good. Tom says it helps me in more ways than I know. In what ways? It doesn’t tone me up or cause weight loss. I’m still around the same weight range, and my legs are big, mushy, cratered, tree trunks. I have hips and tits I never would’ve dreamed of having once upon a time, my stomach now has 3 rolls rather than 2, and I’m still a fat-faced, double-chinned, porker, so why bother? I’d have to stop eating and lift weights like hell in order to lose inches and firm up.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1998 I’m usually able to make it to most of my appointments these days, but I wonder if I’ll make it to see Melanie in the end. My schedule’s a little off for it. Tom said he thinks I will, but not to worry about it for a few days. He said I can decide what to do about it in a few days, but if I decide to do something to hold it back or fast-forward it, Halloween might very well stop me. Fucking kids, man! They fuck up/interfere with your life if you have them. They fuck up/interfere with your life if you don’t have them. Thank fucking God this is our last Halloween here. At least I think it is.

Changed the mice’s cages and sent out a letter to Tammy.

Got a letter from Bob about how he’s been in fights with black cellmates, but no dolls.

Tom got his old piece of shit (1984 Nissan Centra) towed from Ma’s old house. Instead of them taking and stripping his car, then selling the parts, it’s gonna sit on a lot for people to bring their own tools to strip it of whatever they want.

I figured out how to number my index thing. There’s a thing in the tool menu for inserting numbers automatically.

Speaking of numbering, I couldn’t believe it, and I was so pissed off, but that great Ruby book I told you I was reading, had its pages numbered wrong. It jumped from 224 to 257, had the 280s pages printed twice, and was missing about 40 pages.

I sent Marla a message since it’s been a while, and soon I’ll try calling Andy.

A cranberry-colored car just pulled into the freeloader’s and I couldn’t see the driver, who sat there with the car idling till a black boy with silver, metal-rimmed glasses got in the passenger side, then they left. This boy was in his late teens to early 20s. It wasn’t Mike, but I don’t know who it was.

I learned some pretty wild and shocking things about Evie. She said she was married 17 years before meeting David and could not have kids. She had surgery to remove several huge tumors from her ovaries, her uterus is completely backward, she had endometriosis, and doctors told her she’d never have children, so she and David didn’t plan on having kids as Tom told me they did. Maybe God just wanted her to wait till she met and married David before she had kids (David’s her third husband). Or maybe it was cuz I came into the picture. She got pregnant right after Tom and I hooked up, so maybe it was to rub it in my face. God seemed to really enjoy rubbing kids in my face back then and making me jealous. And back then it was hard on me and I was jealous, and I did feel left out a bit and like I wasn’t as good of a family member cuz I didn’t have kids. I felt that maybe we’d have been given more and given more attention if we had had kids, but it doesn’t matter to me in this day and age, and I know they still cared enough about me.

I also told Evie how God ignored me, although no doubt for the better, back when I’d want a kid and would pray for one. Her response was that he wasn’t ignoring me and that he did care about my request. He did? Could’ve fooled me. He can’t care about everyone’s request for a kid. He didn’t give a shit about Mary’s wanting one.

I don’t know what endometriosis is, but I’ve heard the word. I also didn’t know uteruses had fronts and backs.

Although I acknowledge I was wrong about saying quitting smoking wasn’t meant to be, along with marriage and other things, I just know a kid isn’t in my cards, but again, I can’t complain. Tom says if it were him with the problem, he’d get fixed, then decide what to do from there. As long as there are no health hazards from sterility and as long as I don’t want a child, whether or not I could handle one, I see no need to get fixed if fixing is possible, but I am curious still, to find out all I can find out. Then I’ll take it from there.

I’ll tell you one thing for sure, though, and that’s that as soon as I see one bit of Tom not cooperating if that’s what I truly see, I’m outa there. I will not play games. I’m not gonna go there to deal with the issue of why he won’t let them have his cum for testing. I’m gonna go there for answers to my sterility. So, the second he does what I suspect he’ll do, that’s it, so I may never be able to get the info anyway, thanks to him and his personal, private, deep-rooted fears. I meant it when I said I’d no longer deal with the lack of cumming issue. He either cums or he doesn’t, and if he wants to change his not cumming much, that’s his choice and his problem to deal with. Not mine. Meanwhile, he seems perfectly content with how he is, so then so am I.

Later…

I’m on the phone now with Andy. He’s still so sure he’s going back east in 6 months.

We’ve been talking about this and that. The usual. His work, Quinn, David back east. And I’ve gabbed about the usual, too - Tom, computers, animals.

Later…

OK, I hung up with Andy, who I spoke with for an hour and a half.

I made it clear to him that I would not visit him back east and why. We also discussed how no one’s perfect and everyone has some quality we don’t really like. He doesn’t like David’s beer drinking and David doesn’t like his smoking pot, but they both smoke cigarettes. From this stemmed how I felt Andy either had the worst memory on the face of this earth or just didn’t care, about how he had such a problem with simple requests like not eating on the phone. That’s so fucking annoying and it makes it hard for me to concentrate and keep up with what he’s saying. He said he thought he had been getting away with it by eating really soft and didn’t think I’d notice it.

Anyway, he and I talked about our hardest times with those we know. In my opinion, the worst thing that happened between Tom and me was the fight we had over Kim, Phil, and Alex’s visit. I’m sure Tom feels that that was our worst fight too, but for different reasons. No matter what he says, I’ll always believe that the shit Tom gave me for it was about nothing but pure jealousy. Tom felt jealous, threatened, and left out. Period.

Now I’m gonna go do some more indexing (my daily table of contents).

Later…

Why do I sneeze every single time I walk on the treadmill? At least changing cages around here today didn’t spawn an allergy fit.

As much as Evie can be a bore or a pest at times, I really love that woman. She’s so accepting of me and she’s just such a sweetheart. She agrees with Tom, though, and thinks I look better now. She said I looked fine weight-wise when she saw me at Mary’s, and that I looked healthier, happier, and not so frail.

Time to give a vinegar treatment to my dog and cat mugs soon and get rid of these coffee and tea stains.

I called Ashton Drake to see if I could find out what their shipping schedule is but the lady who answered my call didn’t know squat. When we last checked last Friday, they still hadn’t taken the money out of the account for the dolls, but they may verify the account, then send the dolls first, and then take the payments. Or they may ship only once or twice a month. It depends on how much volume they’ve got and where. If they were shipped last Friday or today, they could get here at the end of the week, but I’d say it’s more likely that they’ll get here during the first or second week of November.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1998 I was right about the freeloaders. Last night’s episode only lasted a couple of minutes, but there was a horn honk and about two kids and two adults yelling something I couldn’t quite make out.

Today it was a horn honk and the music from that aqua-colored car that’s usually a problem when it comes around, but fortunately, the damn thing doesn’t come around a lot. No white car this weekend. Instead, it’s just been the aqua one. The music was amazingly soft enough so that it couldn’t be heard in the back room over the air cleaner that’s back there, but it could be heard up front. I saw 3 freeloaders leave in this car, but don’t know who the hell it was. I thought I saw a 10-year-old boy that I thought I heard last night.

Anyway, it’s too soon to know if they’re going back to their old shit or if this is just one of their occasional outbursts just so they can say they rebelled against me and the city, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure and that’s that there isn’t gonna be a third city letter. I’m not gonna send letters that are only good a few months at a time. My fists will take care of the problem permanently, and if they give me music regularly again, I’m not only gonna give them music of my own right back at night, but I’m gonna break every bone in their sick bodies. I’m not gonna even bother with a city letter or evictions. I’m just gonna put them in their place till we move.

Tom, who was as quick to defend them as he usually is, said there’s always music on Sunday mornings. No there isn’t. Not for months, there hasn’t been. Besides, if she really wanted to stay at that house, why would she kick the cock out, make sure he never parks in the driveway, have people lose the music, but just keep the Sunday morning music? If she really wanted to stay there, there wouldn’t be any music. Maybe she’ll rebel every few months like she just did, but not once a week. That’d be too risky, wouldn’t it?

Later…

Just took a shower, and while I was in there, the white car pulled in. I could hear the banging while in the shower and asked him about it when I got out. He said he saw some guy fiddling with the trunk. He said the trunk’s broken and so that’s what the slamming was all about this time. He couldn’t tell who the guy was but said that he thinks she goes somewhere on Sundays, so he’s over there watching football. I don’t know about that. I think she’s over there. I don’t think she left with that aqua car.

I’m tempted to start by giving them some music tonight no matter what else happens today. I’m just so sick of their shit, and I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with it every day. Even every week. If they gotta honk and yell on weekends, fine, but the bottom line is - no music. What kinds of things could happen in these people’s lives to make them this insecure that they gotta go getting the attention of people they hate? When you’re into attention-getting from people you’re supposed to hate, that’s really fucking desperate.

Later…

The bitch should be back soon enough.

Why are my tits sore? I only had a few cups of tea with caffeine in it, but only a few, and there’s less caffeine in tea than there is in coffee.

Tom tried putting a new hinge on the broken back door but didn’t have the right screws.

Later…

I was just mentally visualizing tomorrow’s setup for the mice’s cages and accessories. They need changing badly! I hope changing them doesn’t spawn a 10-hour allergy attack!

I was surprised that Tom wanted sex again today, but it was nice. Neither of us came, though, and you could say that that was the non-surprising part of it. Still, the time we spent together in bed was nice. Screwing’s always nice, even if it gets boring at times, but I read in bed while he napped and that’s still spending some quality time together as far as we’re concerned.

The thing I don’t get about Tom, though, is why sex is so strenuous for him. Most of the time I’d swear I had an 80-year-old man on top of me. He huffs and puffs and his heart goes booming and I wonder why it’s so hard for him. I know he’s 41 and not 21, but still, don’t most guys in their 60s have it easier than this? And he’s not acting as far as this goes, either.

The unfortunate news is that the leak in the back room started leaking again. I should’ve known it was too good to be true that it’d finally be fixed (this time the dogs did go off on Tom). I was surprised at how much rain we had today and that it rained at prime bitch time on a weekend. It rained on and off. Usually, out in Arizona, it only rains a few minutes, then that’s it. So, while it was pouring, Tom went on the roof to see where the water was building up and he patched up an area that he suspected water was getting through. Hope it helps.

I’m surprised Andy hasn’t called during the weekend, but I haven’t heard from him since last weekend when he left me those 3 long messages about his visit from Marla, Evan, and the boys. That’s a long time for him.

Tom looked to see if there were more miniature golf games online, but surprisingly, there weren’t. I like the golf game we’ve got, except it’s “too male.” You can tell by the dull colors and by the content of most of the courses, that it’s male-made.

The current Ruby Jean Jensen book I’m reading is a typical Ruby book. It’s great, and I’m two-thirds of the way done. I want to hurry up and read it to the end, but at the same time, I want it to last. Once I’ve read it, I’ve read it, and I know the story.

Tom felt that the best thing to do with the $5,000 coming from Ma as part of the sale money from the dump she had, would be best spent by paying off our debts rather than put away and saved. We’re about $4,000 in debt.

Now here’s something really fucking weird! I know White Paw’s meow. Hers was lower-pitched than Blackie’s. I let Blackie out a little while ago, sat down to write, then I could’ve sworn I heard WP at the door. I know I did. So I upped and opened the door, but there was no cat in sight. As soon as I opened it, though, I could hear Blackie’s higher-pitched meowing and then I saw that he was at the back of the yard. There’s no way that meow could’ve been his. So unless that was the ghost of WP, she is still alive and she took off when she heard me coming. But why, though? That cat practically loved to piss me off by sticking around when she knew I didn’t want her.

So, all in all, last night’s honk and shouts, and today’s honk and music were all that was heard from our beautiful freeloaders. The white car took off after I last wrote, and to my surprise, the aqua car never returned. I thought it was gonna come back just as loud or louder, but if it did, it was while we were in the bedroom with the fan going.

The white car came and went two more times after it left just after I’d written. See, I still think that all these cars are running drugs and or supplies, but Tom said that that white car that came and went could’ve been running to the store for her, but still, who does this bitch think she is to have all these people doing so much for her? I could never have gotten someone to babysit my kid 5 days a week if I had had one, I could never have gotten someone to take me grocery shopping regularly, I could never have gotten someone to take me out every weekend, so what is it with this bitch having her finger wrapped around all these people? Is she Dureen persuasive, or what? And I’m sure she’s not giving them anything in return for all their slavery. What can she give them? I’ll bet that if she needed something in the middle of the night, there’d be at least 10 different people she could call. But not even my best friend would ever have come running to me like that and that often. Not before. Not now. Another question is how do all her cronies get the time to spend catering to her? Don’t these people work or have lives of their own to live? Obviously not.

Pleasantly enough, there weren’t a million stereos out there today like there was yesterday. I’m sure that had a part in the aqua car’s music. They probably felt left out, and all those stereos probably encouraged them to follow right along.

Speaking of cars and stereos, I haven’t seen that big white car that used to be a real bass blaster (I mean big-time) bass since the second city complaint went in. I’ll bet you the reason why is because they reacted the same way that bitch did when she asked them to lay off the music cuz of me and my complaint. I’ll bet they were just an oh-so-true friend and said, fuck it then. We either play it loud or we don’t know you. She could very well have told the shit in the aqua car to cut it out too, and got a reply of, we’ll lower it, but we won’t turn it off completely.

I wonder if she thinks that the basketball hoop is part of the deal. Does she think that I’ll complain if she lets anyone play ball? Well, I kind of hope so and that she’s afraid to let anyone use that hoop cuz of me, and I just can’t believe that it’s almost November and there still haven’t been any games yet!

I got an awesome idea. I’m not gonna go back to my first journal and do this throughout my past journals, but from here on out, and maybe even from the start of this month, I’m gonna do a table of contents. After each day of writing is complete, I’ll go to my index98 file and type a list of stuff I wrote for that day.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1998 Tom made a pile of papers from our file box for me to scan and save, and to scan and trash. So I made a legal document folder on the computer that Tom will put on CD.

Did laundry, dishes, and the usual weekend stuff.

Got an email from Kim. She’s doing OK. Still with Walter. She forwarded me some blonde jokes, but they weren’t all that funny. Why are there so many blonde jokes? Is it cuz people really hate blondes? Or is it cuz people are jealous of them?

We had sex which was typical - cumless.

My schedule’s backing up again. A few days ago I got up at 12:30 PM, yesterday I got up at 10:00 AM, and today I got up at 8:00 AM.

I forgot to say that the city woke me up at 7:30 on Friday. I awoke to a huge truck with a thunderous idle that was parked on the corner here by the fire hydrant right in front of our house. They worked on the sewers all day, but like an idiot, I forgot to turn the music beats on. The amazing part of it was that I went back to sleep and didn’t get woken up again. Without Benadryl, either.

There was a ruckus around here alright (this morning), but it wasn’t next door. The people across the street had a tag sale. A big one. There were enough car door slams to make up for several weekends of that from the freeloader. It drew a few stereo bangers in, too. By just 11:00 AM I had heard 5 stereos bang by.

Tom says their sign said it was a moving sale, although there’s no for-sale sign up over there. I don’t know if I like the idea of these people moving. These people, by the way, are a couple with a couple of small boys, I believe. The guy bought a small TV from us when we had our tag sale and he seemed nice enough. Anyway, I hope they’re not moving, cuz it’s too close for comfort. Too close for potential trouble from new neighbors. The only time I had problems with these people was when I first moved in here. They had a black and white dog that yipped its ass off. The problem with this house is that they don’t have a block wall running around its back and sides like we do. They’ve got a chain-link fence which means if there was a dog over there, it could go right up to the front of the house at the side and bark out at the street all day and night like the one they had did (I’m surprised I haven’t heard more from these boys, though). So, if they leave and if new people come who are owners, there’s an 80% chance there’ll be a dog, and gone will be the peace from the living room. Especially at night. There are a couple of dogs somewhere across the street within a span of 8 houses or so, but they seldom bark and they don’t have loud or shrilly barks. And who knows how many kids there’ll be playing out front, since people out here usually use the front of their house for play and for sitting around gabbing and shit like that, and who knows what stereos they’ll have?

The people that have been there all along, though seem like the last family was - decent, friendly, and respectful of others. They don’t seem to be the selfish assholes we got next door.

Tom said they didn’t have anything really nice to sell. No dolls or anything like that. Mainly toys and furniture.

Later…

You could say that I’m not in a very good mood right now, that’s for sure!

Tom bought T-shirts so I could make up shirts for my nieces and Tammy with family pictures for Chanukah. He bought the iron-on sheets too, that claim to be better. They claim this kind’s better cuz you can peel them off when they cool so you don’t have to be rushed. The first one went on fine, but it was too easy. Just like with the CD-making. Sure enough, to make up for that easiness, I couldn’t get the rest on. Some wouldn’t go on at all and some would only partially go on. So, I’ll see if Tom wants to do it, but if not, we’ll just mail them a card.

Today has been horrendous as far as stereos go. It’s just been one after the other!

Tom saw the little clown next door sitting out front as if she was waiting for someone. Then an aqua-colored car (or some medium shade of blue) that I may or may not have seen before pulled in, then left.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1998 It’s dark now. Are the kids gonna come out to play in the street?

I got a good look at Caddy Kid today who Tom said was white. Weren’t no white boy in that car. Just a couple of freeloaders. Obvious drug dealers too, driving a nice car like that at such a young age.

I hope my ominous feeling pertaining to next door and this weekend is wrong. Yes, the cock’s been happily out of the picture, and things have been quiet with the exception of door slamming, but something tells me it’s time for them to stir things up a bit. I just feel a bit of a ruckus over there coming on, but what kind and for how long, beats me.

Ma’s house was bought by a company that plans to tear down the old, sagging barn and fix up the house to either sell or rent. She’s giving each of her 5 kids $5,000. There may be a little bit of extra after she pays the realtor his fees so that we can have too, which should be an additional $1,500.

Well, this is nice of her, but we’re not gonna take a little chunk of it to have fun with. We’re gonna save it all to move with. I just hope the stock improves so we can get out of here this summer! Better yet, why doesn’t God kill Mom, who’s just hogging up time and space, and that’ll really get us out of here!

Speaking of time, I’m so glad that fucking house is gone!!! Now all Tom has to do is have his old car towed away. Hopefully, we can have more time to do our own shit now.

Watched a couple of movies I decided to tape. Yeah, I still tape movies every once in a while, but Jesus fucking Christ! Can there ever be a movie where no one’s pregnant? Not only was one of the major cast members pregnant, they even had to show a gross and rather scary clip of a childbirth video she was watching. It’s sickeningly old! The 80s had nothing but drug-related shit on TV and with the 90s it’s the pregnancy. What will the next decade bring? First it bothered me cuz it was a constant reminder of what I couldn’t have that I once wanted, and now it bothers me cuz I’m sick of it. I can understand Doe and Art’s frustration over repetition, but the difference is I don’t try to control these pregnancy fanatics. I just ignore them. Really, though, I wish they’d come up with something new for a change. This is why I don’t watch much TV. Same old, same old.

I did go out and weigh myself this morning, after all. I’m down to 112 pounds. Although, when I stepped on the scale again, it said 114. I asked Tom if he felt it’d just keep slowly going down as long as I walk and eat sensibly like I have been. He said yes, but of course, it’ll stop at some point. If it is really dropping some more, when will it stop? Certainly not at 100 pounds, right? Maybe 110? Well, wherever it stops is where it stops. As long as it doesn’t go up to the 120s again.

I contemplated sending Larry and his parents duplicate copies of my journal excerpts written around the time they pulled their shit on me. If I did, though, it wouldn’t be till after we moved. Maybe I’ll include them with the bitch just for the kicks of it and to express even more things to them that I feel would help me to put them further into the past, even if they don’t like one thing I have to say. On the other hand, is it worth it? Are they really worth it? Would they even read it? I don’t know. Well, we’ll just wait and see what happens.

As I may have said before, Ray, the oldest in Tom’s family, is his most stupid sibling from what Tom’s told me. Also, Nora’s never been right in the head, Ryan’s a retarded mental case on SSI, Jackie’s a user, and so is her sister Pam. Pam’s actually worse. She beats the shit out of her 5-year-old daughter Jennifer. That’s why Child Protective Services came and took her away.

Evie emailed me saying she heard that they wanted to keep Jennifer in the family and that I may be one of the ones called about taking her. I reminded her of my sterility and of my belief that if God felt children should be a part of my life, he’d have made sure my plumbing was in order, and that I believe Tom would’ve made a good father, but I wouldn’t even know what to do. I really believe that if God had faith in me as a mother and felt I could handle it; I’d have been a mom by now.

Evie had asked me about adoption or foster parents, and she said that Tom and I would make excellent parents. That’s nice of her, but I really think only one of us would’ve made an excellent parent.

I’m very glad to hear that Jennifer was removed from Pam as sad as the situation is, but again I question God. Why? Why even bother in the first place to let the Pams out there have kids to beat? Thank fucking God it was just one kid, though, if God just had to give Pam any at all, but please God, don’t let her have any more!!

When Tom got home, he told me no, they don’t want Jennifer with family. They want her to make a clean break from the family without people connected to Pam, with the hopes of her being young enough to cope with the abuse she got from Pam. I think it’s too late, though. I think she’s gonna grow up to be an aggressive, loser and abuser herself.

He also says that Pam, who’s always been crazy, is in a nut ward and he says she’s been pretty much put away for good and can never have Jennifer back. I disagree with that one. She’ll get out and she’ll get the kid back. They always do.

Later…

Just watched another movie. The pregnant one in this one had hers vacuumed out.

It’s the weekend now, so I can expect calls from Andy.

Evie’s 45 tomorrow. Damn, 45 with a two-year-old?! Guess it’s not so uncommon these days. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with it.

I can hear that the weekend has arrived. There goes thumper number one.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1998 Yeah, it was the bitch that left with Bill. He took her grocery shopping. They returned at 6:00.

No, the stage isn’t being set for anything. My schedule jumped 5 hours. I was up a long time last night and didn’t get up till 12:30 today, rather than 7:00 like I did yesterday. I figured as much, though. What I’m doing right now, and what I’ve basically been doing since marrying Tom is my peak destiny and what I’ll be doing for the rest of my life, and no, that’s not a complaint. Far from it!

I may be just under 115 pounds, but I’m not gonna bother to weigh myself without feeling a major difference. I just feel a slight difference. I still walk for at least 15 minutes every day. Sometimes I do more.

Yesterday, Tom got me a list of Ruby Jean Jensen’s books at her site that I couldn’t get into. Unfortunately, most of her earliest books that she wrote in the 70s are out of print so I may never get to read those books that I know are great. I just finished one of her books last night and am about to begin another. The one I just finished was good but different for her. There was nothing supernatural in it. It was about a guy who killed his wife that he leaves in this secluded cabin in the woods. Meanwhile, he steals 4 boys and a girl that he abuses. He kills 3 boys. The remaining boy and the girl escape him.

I changed Ratsy’s cage earlier and on Monday I’ll do the mice.

Got a wonderful message that Mary left from work. She said they got an offer on the house for $35,000 cash and she just wanted his opinion, but since they had to close this deal today, they were probably gonna go for it.

That was fast! I love it when my vibes are wrong for the better. Does that mean this is it? That house is out of our hands? In the past? We’ll never step foot in it again? What about Tom’s old car? Did he have that towed yet? If the house is now out of hands, no Mary, no Marge, Tom’s mine. You cannot have him for other jobs. He has his own life and responsibilities.

I wonder how Lisa’s doing. I haven’t talked to her since Tammy and I talked to her. I still worry about her associating with Larry. I wish to hell Larry would change his number for Lisa’s sake, but I can’t make either of them do anything.

Sex last night was typical mid-cycle sex. He couldn’t really get into it. Too scared. His excuse was “bad rhythm.” That’s a lame one. Can’t he do better than that? I still wish he just wouldn’t bother. Can’t he come out and admit his fears, as he’s admitted there’s a 5% chance in his mind I’m OK, and just not touch me then? Or can’t he just say he’s too tired or just not in the mood? You know, if I was told we couldn’t have sex for years, I wouldn’t miss it! Thank fucking God I don’t feel as bored with him as far as the non-sexual side of the relationship goes, as I do with the sexual side of it!

Tina in Maine should get her letter today. My nieces should get theirs tomorrow.

Later…

One of the family pictures came down as a screensaver. Before, Tom and I could only get journals and Norah and Gloria pictures to show up. I tried to get another family pic to show up but couldn’t. Tom said he’d look into it, but of course, that could be quite a while from now.

It’s gorgeous out there now. Blackie’s doing his thing out there, of course. He’s just sitting there or walking across the yard, and all the while he’s meowing his head off. I thought cats had to have a reason to meow, but not this one. He meows when he eats, when he’s just sitting there by himself; all the time.

Later…

Some great, responsible parents we have today. There are 3 kids batting a can out in the middle of the street and it’s nearly pitch dark out there. What kind of parent lets their kids play out in the middle of the street in the dark? I don’t know if these kids were associated with the Lopezs or what, but they sure are fucking weird!

Later…

The kids weren’t out there long. I can go back to reading my book of Ruby’s in peace, which as usual, is great even though I’m only on the 8th page.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1998 I’m waiting for it to hurry up and rain so we can do the big test and see how much it leaks in here. I can smell the rain in the air, but as usual, the sun’s poking through the clouds. Yeah, that’s Arizona for you. It’s never usually all cloudy, but clouds mixed with sun. The clouds are mostly towards the northwest and the sun is towards the southeast. Wish it would rain from 5 PM-9 PM on Halloween, but fat chance! At least I strongly vibe that this will be our last Halloween here.

Yesterday I called our neighbor behind us (Gloria) but her husband answered. I told him we’d more than likely be moving this summer and that I had some things she could have free of charge. He told me to call back after November 15th saying that Gloria’s working at the state fair till then and isn’t getting home till 10:00 - 11:00 at night. According to Tom, though, the state fair doesn’t start for a few more days yet. Now, why couldn’t the fucking liar just tell me they weren’t interested? I’ll just throw the stuff in the recycle bin. To me, that’d be a lot like if I brought the stuff to Goodwill. It won’t be entirely wasted and thrown away. It’ll be used again, if not in quite the same way someone who bought them from Goodwill would use them.

It looks like it’s getting sunnier out there, so maybe the rain will miss us. Tom said it always rains during the fair, so maybe we will get some soon.

Being “normal” last night was a bust. He went to bed at 4 PM, then I came in at 7:00. By 9:30 I had to kick him out. He just wouldn’t stay still and kept waking me up just when I’d conk out. So I had to move him to the couch and take a Benadryl.

He said he wants the sex today that we would’ve normally had on Monday. But why? How can he be in the mood any more than I am these days? Although my reasons are different. I’m just not in the mood. Period. But him? He just came, and it’s too close to mid-cycle for him to really feel comfortable about sex enough to enjoy it and cum. So why bother? I hate to see him do things he doesn’t really want to do, but again, maybe it is deep in his subconscious and he doesn’t know what the fuck’s going on. Sometimes someone else can understand you better than you can. They can see things about someone that they themselves can’t see.

Later…

Just did my daily 15-minute walk. Sometimes I do more, but I try to make sure I always do at least 15 minutes of walking.

Today my stomach feels like it’s the flattest it’s been in a while. I probably woke up as low as 112 pounds, so I probably won’t shit today so my body can balance things out and not end up weighing below 112 pounds where it doesn’t feel comfortable.

I hate having to wear a bra at all times, though. My tits are still bigger, so even when they’re not sore, I still have to wear bras, or else they bounce around and that’s not comfy.

God, this fucking annoying cat! Even Tom agrees he’s the weirdest cat he’s ever known and that he meows more than any other cat he’s ever known. He just goes on and on and doesn’t shut up! It’s like Andy on the phone. I left him a message on Monday but haven’t heard from him since. What’s he doing? Waiting for the weekend?

The sun’s coming in and out, but still no rain.

Got 3 dead friends on my wallpaper now - Bunny, Spunky, and Teddy Bear. As Tom pointed out yesterday, it’s so weird how T-Bear got along with Bunny and Spunky, but not Gizzy. And I think it’s also weird that Bunny got along with Piggy and Spunky, but not Velvet.

Later…

Just had my shiny friend in. I call him my shiny friend at times cuz of how his black coat shines.

Ratsy wanted to come out and nestle with me too, just now. He’s been keeping weird hours lately. He’s usually pretty nocturnal, but he’s been staying up later these last few days. Or getting up around this time for a while.

With all the birds that are out there, I haven’t seen Measles in days. I don’t know what this means. Maybe she’s sitting on eggs now, but I think this is the wrong time of year for that.

Still no White Paws either, and that’s gotta mean that she, as well as her mother, is dead. Why else would they stay away for this long? I hope Blackie’s not next to disappear, although I sure don’t miss the other cats.

Tom told me when he got in (I’m to wake him up at 8:00 so we can have cumless fun) that the reason he kept shifting in bed last night was due to stomach cramps.

I made the freeloaders a table of contents. This that I’m about to write obviously won’t be enclosed with the freeloader’s journal excerpts, but anyway, the table of contents (door-slamming, music, dog, bitch’s fit on our doorstep, city complaints) and other BS that I added in like bogus things I saw, heard and did, like the house hopping incident and her chasing him with the weed whacker, is to further ensure that they read my writings. I want them to be interested enough to read just what I have to say about them (that’s both true and bullshit, of course) and it’ll also lower the chances of them dragging the cops into the picture. The cops can’t do shit about what I wrote. Period. A person can write all they want. But because I’d periodically write about all the vandalism we’d supposedly receive from them, it should lower the chances of them showing this shit to the cops, cuz I’d still prefer that they read it and not the cops, so this table of contents should grab their curiosity all the more. It isn’t just vandalism I accuse them of, but it’s also drug-related stuff and violence and things most people wouldn’t want the cops to hear about even if it were bullshit. I can picture the bitch and her cronies laughing over something like the weed whacker chase and therefore, being all the more willing to read about it. And they’ll have to find it themselves. The table of contents only includes subjects. Not page numbers or dates.

I prayed to God that they don’t go before we do and that they read what I give them.

Got some wind to add to these clouds, but still no rain.

Later…

Now here’s a day to be thankful that we don’t live about 5 houses towards the north. Maybe even more, since it’s a bit breezy out and the breeze is blowing south. That’s probably why I could hear what I heard unless it’s a new edition to the neighborhood. There’s this dog going off somewhere with the most obnoxious bark I ever heard. It reminds me of that dog with the high-pitched, screechy bark that the trailer people had. It’s worse than the freeloader’s old dog, and in a way, even worse than the guard dogs. The guard dogs seem to take most of their fits in the early morning and early evening hours. I’m surprised they didn’t pitch a fit when Tom was patching up the roof.

I wonder if the freeloaders will go back to their old shit when we move. Will the cock come back and go banging in and out 6 times a day?

It’s still cloudy out, but even so, it’s nice out there.

Later…

Finally! It’s raining. No leaks yet. It looks like he did it! He fixed it! I’m so proud of him and happy he fixed this shit once and for all.

Got a card in the mail from Evie who lost 10 more pounds, cut her hair really short, said Parker’s Baptism was wonderful, and thanked me for prayers I never made.

Also, if it’s so much easier to care for her hair now when it was only to the shoulders before and is so straight and thin, how would she cope with this thick, long curly hair that I’ve got that’s just an inch or so away from the thighs?

Tammy was in a foul mood when I called there. The usual, she said. Lisa’s lying and doing the opposite of what she’s told to do. She caught her smoking downstairs again when she wants her smoking outside of the house.

Another thing I won’t include in the freeloaders’ write-ups is how I just put old pictures in the manila envelope that their stuff’s in. There are a few old baby pictures of Tammy’s kids that are blurry, some of Bob, and one of Mark standing in uniform by his cruiser. Mark W, Kim’s ex. They should be pretty baffled about them.

Later…

Now that’s weird. Why would that bitch be leaving with Bill now? I didn’t look long enough to see who the fuck it was for sure, but someone was on the passenger side. If it was her, why would Bill sit the mistake all day, then take the bitch off somewhere when she got home? And how did she get home? By Bill or the cock? I didn’t see. I just know I heard a series of door slams that were really starting to irk me.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1998 Boy, this rat sure loves to come out! When I first got him, I’d have to chase him and pick him up by the tail in order to take him out. Now, he climbs on top of his nest and allows me to pick him up by his body.

He doesn’t really care to play with Velvet anymore like he used to, but Velvet’s always glad to see him when I occasionally plop him into his cage for a visit.

I just realized that I haven’t seen the trailer next door in ages. When I say “next door” I mean across the street at the old man’s place. Maybe they had a hard time sleeping here.

Tom says he’s gonna stop over at Mary’s after work to see what Mom has to say about the Realtor that she and Mary were supposed to meet with yesterday. I just wish she’d hurry up and sell the fucking place. We don’t need two houses or the added responsibility. We have enough shit of our own to do, although she was paying us $300 a month to take care of it. I still don’t vibe the house selling till February, though, and that doesn’t mean that it won’t go to Jackie and Jim, but I don’t vibe that quite as much. She even once mentioned giving it to Jackie’s lazy, spoiled, user sister Pam and her spoiled brat kid Jennifer. Watch, though. Whenever this house sells, whoever it sells to, they’ll just try to sucker Tom into doing something else for them. People seem to be obsessed with Tom doing stuff for them. They don’t care that he has a life. Or wants to have one.

Tom said that at 11:45 last night, Caddy Kid boomed by and that he’s never known him to boom by that late. Neither have I. It couldn’t have been too loud since it didn’t wake me up and since I didn’t have the music on for its beats. The stereo problem around here comes and goes. You can go a couple of weeks without hearing any, then they bang by 5 times a day, and back and forth.

The sales calls are the same, too. Sometimes we get 8 a day, sometimes 1-2, but yesterday there was not one of them. Isn’t that totally shocking?!

Can’t wait for my dolls!! Wish they could come today, but no way. Got another week or two. Maybe more.

Just finished another Ruby Jean Jensen book and I’ve got 4 more left. Then, I think I’ll have read all she ever wrote. She seems to have done most of her writing between 1984-1988. She is the best writer I’ve ever known, although there are a few others I like too. I’ll have to check out her website. I couldn’t even stand to read John Saul’s worst books, but I could get through Ruby’s worst books, but even her worst books, in my opinion, were still pretty good. As I said, the only thing I don’t like even though all authors do it is they get too descriptive. I don’t care if the people in her stories have red couches or blue ones. Her last book really feeds on my fantasies, though. As anyone does, I still have my fantasies in my mind that are fun to turn to when I’m falling asleep, bored, or whatever. This last book took place at a traveling carnival, and that’s a nice fantasy - meeting this gorgeous woman to travel within the carnie while we work at a concession stand or a merry-go-round. This traveling life would never appeal to me in real life, but in never-never land, it’s kind of fun.

I love reading. It’s like visiting a whole different world with a whole different set of stories and people each time I visit, and I can leave that world whenever I want to and visit it at my own convenience.

Later…

It’s pretty warm out there right now. Tom’s out there patching up the last of the leak. I hope. It’s kind of stinky. The cooler’s bringing in the smell of the shit.

As for our daughter’s house - it’s to be listed at $39,000 tomorrow. That’s dirt fucking cheap! You couldn’t find a house priced nearly that low back east if you tried. It’s not up to code and no one can take a loan out on it. They have to pay cash for it. No wonder I vibe February for it selling. I don’t see how it’ll be so easy to sell even at that price. A scummy Mexican family with 9 kids couldn’t afford it, but a person with the cash probably wouldn’t want to live in that area. So, maybe a person with cash will buy it to rent, or maybe they’ll tear the house down and build a new one. That’s what should be done. It’s a tiny, run-down shack that really should be demolished and rebuilt bigger, and more modern.

Once Tom comes down from the roof, we’re gonna go online to see if they’ve taken any money for the dolls yet.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 19, 1998 If rats are supposed to be so smart, why is mine acting so stupid? Every 4 or 5 times I have him out, he pees. From around 2 AM-7 AM, he’s really active and wanting to come out.

We screwed yesterday, but he had a hard time keeping hard. He stayed in there, though, till he got sick of it. It should be 2-6 months before he gets off again. At the wrong time, too. Even though all the evidence points to me being sterile, he’s not gonna take any chances. Not with his own fears and not with knowing I don’t want a child. Well, he seems happy and that’s what counts. If he’s not, he sure does a great job of not complaining about it.

Can’t wait for my dolls to get here! Still have quite a wait, though.

I took off the gorgeous dress that Pansy Bear wears, that collector’s teddy bear that Doe sent, and washed it. I made some changes with her too, that I personally think look better. I left her hat on, but I took off the umbrella that she was holding. It was too much and it shaded her face and her pearl earring (the other ear is covered by the hat). I also detached her from the lamb that was on a leash. I left her pantaloons on but took off the slip she had on with that rough net-like material that’s used to puff skirts out. This dress has a full enough skirt of its own.

I thought of a really cool gift idea for Tammy and the girls for Chanukah. I want to do iron-on T-shirts for them. Not of Gloria and Norah, of course, but family pictures. It goes without saying that that excludes pictures of Doe, Art, and Larry. But pictures of them and us would be really cool, I think. Tammy said to get extra-large shirts for her, Lisa, and Becky, and a medium for Sarah.

I’m gonna start a batch of letters for the girls.

Tammy said she is gonna keep the name G for the girls. She and Mark are doing some remodeling in her place. She ditched AOL for a while cuz she has too much going on.

I added my journals and the family pictures to my Gloria and Norah screensaver, but there’s a problem that Tom will have to investigate, cuz only the journals (along with Gloria and Norah pics) show up. Anyway, I love seeing my journals flying across the screen. Something I never thought I’d see!

Our lovely freeloaders behaved this weekend, but I still can’t believe no one’s played ball over there yet! Anyway, a white car was at the house at 9:30, then Tom saw a white car pull into the driveway shortly after, then back right back out onto the street. He said he could see two people in the car. They only sat there a minute, though, before taking off. At 1:15 she and her sister in the white car came in. I saw the sister take a stroller from the trunk, then the bitch got out with a basket of some kind that she roughly set down on the ground. All pissed off, as usual, I guess. Then she took something out of the backseat, picked up the basket, and disappeared from view.

Tom is sure that we’ll move first and that it won’t even be close, cuz these programs, like the one she’s in, takes years. Well, I sure hope so, and yes, I do vibe us going first. Especially once I realized that there weren’t gonna be so many turnovers as I originally thought there were gonna be. It was pretty much when the bitch took her tizzy fit on my doorstep in September of ‘97 that I realized she was it while we were still here.

I’m still 115 pounds and after comparing how long it took me to drop from 124 to around 120 and from 120 to around where I am now, I can see a pattern. I’ve been weighing 115 for way longer than I hung at 124 or 122 or 119, etc. In other words, 115 is as low as I can go in this day and age without nearly starving, being a 33-year-old non-smoker. So now that my job of losing weight is done, my job now is to maintain my weight, which takes an incredible amount of work, but not like it would for me to lose anymore.

Later…

Andy told me that Judy’s selling the cottage and getting a 5-bedroom, 2-story cottage on Hawk’s Nest beach. Andy’s really bummed about this too, saying that the very year he comes here, they buy back their cottage and now it’s up for sale the year he moves back. Or the year he says he’s moving back, cuz I still won’t believe it till and if I see it.

Sleep time last night was a real pisser. First Dureen, Art, and Larry spend years fucking with me in real life, and now they’re doing it in my fucking dreams!

Thanks for the wonderful dreams on top of the wonderful memories, Doe, Art, and Lar. Thanks a lot!

All I remember about the dream was being in the same house Tammy was in but in the next room. I heard her suddenly start yelling, so somehow, I knew that that meant Doe, Art, and Larry were there. Then in the doorway of the room I was in, came Larry with Art behind him. I told him to get the fuck out or I’d kick his ass without caring how big he was. He turned and walked away without a word. Then I woke up as I was contemplating going after him and beating the shit out of him anyway.

Later…

It’s warming up out there now and as usual, the dogs are going off. The further away from the ocean you are, the more of a temperature swing you can have between nights and days. The days are nice, but the nights are quite chilly. In the early morning yesterday, we ran the heat for a few minutes, but by the afternoon, we needed to cool it down in here.

There are so many birds out there (I’ve been giving them old bread) but I haven’t seen Measles in a while. I still should stop feeding these birds altogether. They make too much of a mess.

Tom crashed at 6:30 and at 9:30 I’ll be getting him up to go mow our daughter’s yard. Then he’ll come home and have plenty of time to sleep till he goes in to work at 1:30.

Later…

This cat is sooooo weird. He meows even while he eats! It does sound funny, though.

Tom’s up now, eating hot dogs and watching TV. He began watching TV with cordless headphones which we both like better. When I talk, he can hear me and the TV. And I can concentrate on reading, writing, and stuff like that, and hear what the bitch is up to if anything these days.

I hope to be up on Halloween night so that if there is a ruckus next door, I won’t have to worry about it waking me up and causing me to kill them. This will also be our first Halloween without the screen door that hooks (knocking on the inner door’s way louder than when someone would knock on the screen door we used to have that you could hook) so all the more I hope to be up that night, cuz as dark as we’ll have the place, I know some stupid idiots will still knock on our door.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1998 They didn’t have Patrice anymore, but that’s OK, cuz Patrice and Summer Dream are on their way here from that Ashton Drake catalog!! Yeah, I decided I’d take all the gambling money and spend it on dolls. Tom’s gonna gamble with half of his $200 at the casino, then the other half at the racetrack. Anyway, the dolls should get here in 6-8 weeks or sooner. Tom thinks they’ll get here in about two weeks. Well, I should hope so, cuz what’s the big deal? He called in the order and gave a credit card number, so why should it take so long to take the money, pack the dolls, then ship them? He said the lady said they were available. Thank God, too, cuz we tried to order them online from their website, but they weren’t there.

So, I guess I’ll be getting Katherine Rose with my birthday and Christmas money, but maybe not. There’s this really cute doll in a bright yellow dress with pigtails and smiling while holding a lollipop. I might get this, cuz I’m out for variety, too. It’d be my first smiling doll and my first one with pigtails. The more I think of this one, the more I’m interested in her and not Katherine Rose.

I caught the last 45 minutes of a 3-hour doll show on TV. They only featured about 20 dolls throughout the 3 hours, along with a few other things, but I was surprised at how cheap some of them were. Some were all-porcelain and some were part-porcelain. There also were some 30” dolls for over $200, but they had a lot of dolls around the sizes that I’ve got and that Ashton Drake’s got for between $25-$100. Most of the dolls were pitiful, though, or plain old boring. There were two dolls that maybe I’d like.

It is really, really chilly out there now! Pretty soon, we’ll be needing the heat.

My lungs were tight yesterday, so Tom whacked my back to relax the muscles. I swear, if it isn’t the lungs, it’s the nose, and vice versa. Which will it be today? Tightness in the lungs? Or a sneezy, clogged-up nose?

Robert just sent Tina in Maine a 4-page wacky letter. Yeah, Tina from Maine sent Robert a letter addressed to someone else. All Tina really had to say was that she was in North Carolina for a little while, just moved back to Maine, and was sorry she had to have Wayne contact him, her stepdad Kamilo hates her, she dyed her hair red and now it’s dyed black.

Doesn’t that last part sound familiar (I’ve had my hair dyed both those colors)?

Anyway, from what she said, she never really met or knew Robert C. I take it someone told her about him for the sake of a pen pal maybe. I don’t know. The letter was very brief, and this Tina was definitely young. Like 15-25, but probably closer to a high school girl.

This weekend’s been peaceful so far, but I don’t know about next weekend. Halloween’s on a Saturday night, and if that bitch has people come over with their kids to go trick or treating like she did last year, who knows how late they’ll stay and how loud they’ll be, but hopefully it’ll be too dark for a good ball game and too chilly to hang out much longer than needed for collecting a good amount of candy.

This is the longest time that’s passed without seeing White Paws. I hope Tom’s joking like I think he is when he says I killed her, cuz I didn’t. I tried but couldn’t. She was too quick for me. I think she went off and had babies somewhere, but Tom insists she wasn’t pregnant. Then what drove Mama Cat and finally this cat away? I’m surprised both these cats don’t pop in daily anyway, to see if there’s food around, but I can’t complain. I don’t miss them.

Andy left me 3 fucking full 3-minute messages about his visit with Marla, Evan, and the boys. Sounds like Marla and Evan were a bore and the kids drove him crazy. Still, he went on and on and on about the same damn things, and sometimes I really question my friendship with him and wonder if he really gives a shit about me. I mean, he’s never been so into himself. Well, yes, he has, actually, but it’s in a different way than in Springfield. Before, he didn’t give a shit if you were suffering mentally or physically. Now, it’s talk, talk, talk, talk, talk!! It never shuts up and it never lets you get a word in edgewise. It goes on and on about itself only and hardly ever asks about others, and forget about asking him to do you the simplest little favor. I feel like I’ve outgrown Andy.

Later…

It’s not even 6:00 in the fucking morning and the dog with the low pitch bark is going off. Wake up your masters and that bitch that’s just a few feet away from you, please!! Piss them the fuck off!

Tom just got up and I just walked for 15 minutes.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1998 I think we're gonna go get Patrice this morning, instead of Tuesday. I called the store hoping they'd have a machine with their store hours and they did. At 10:00 I'll call to see if they still have her. I hope so!

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1998 Oh, what a nightmare! These fucking allergies!!! Is there no end to the constant sneezing fits?! Will I ever be able to go more than a few days without sneezing?! I woke up at 11 PM with allergies, took a Benadryl, and crashed till 2:00. Then after changing the rat's cage, vacuuming, dusting, and having 3 hours of sneezing, I took a couple more Benadryl. I've been sneezing since last night and have spent the bulk of the time in bed. I can only stay in bed for so long, though, so I decided I'd get up and live my life again, even if I sneeze through everything I do.

There was a city van parked in front of the freeloaders yesterday, but I couldn't make out what they were doing. They weren't there long. I saw a box on the ground by the open doors of the van, then a couple people came into view, put the box in the van, and then left.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1998 I just called Tammy who said she didn’t talk to Bill or a lawyer, but that Lisa’s the same, and she’s not coming out here. I was hoping she’d say just what I vibed she’d say. She agreed that maybe they all, or the girls could come out for a visit someday, but I think we both feel the same about Lisa and that’s that she needs to stay there, as miserable as it can be, graduate, then go wherever she wants.

She said it wasn’t a good time to chat, so I’ll call her back some other time. I want to see if she prefers me to keep in touch by regular mail, or if she’s back on AOL, or what. I also want to find out what their names are now. As Tom said, kids often keep their father’s name for school purposes and friends, but Tammy’s probably O again.

I hope to catch Lisa alone sometimes too, so we can talk by ourselves.

Tom confirmed that I was right with my vibes. He had guessed we’d be moving in March, but true to my vibes, the stock market’s doing lousy, so that throws it closer to what I vibe is our moving month - June. He feels June would be great, and he told me of different really cool house designs he has in mind.

Within the next year, he wants to try to switch to a day job. It’s hard on him to change his schedule back to days on his days off and even his doctor said so. He feels he’d also be able to get more done if he were on days.

I’m going to have to reschedule my GYN appointment cuz November 2nd is too close to my period unless I’m a week late or early and that throws things off.

Last night I was depressed, angry, frustrated, and confused. Yeah, old shit came back to badger me again. No, I don’t mean child desires, but I misunderstood Tom, who cleared me up today, on something he said, and cuz of it, I felt like he was jerking me around.

I thought he had told me to mention my curiosity over my sterility when I saw the GYN, then later I thought he was telling me not to mention it till after I’d gotten my exam. Well, what he meant was that it didn’t matter if I mentioned it to the GYN that day or not, cuz I still have to go through my primary doctor after one appointment with a different doctor. So after I get the exam, I have to call Dr. Brown and have her refer me to someone for infertility testing.

The bottom line, according to Tom, is that he’ll take me through it and support me if I want to get tested, or if I don’t want to get tested. Also if I want to be fixed if I can be fixed, or if I don’t want to be fixed if I can be fixed. See, there’s a very good chance that I’ll want to be fixed if that’s possible, and Tom says not to worry about money. The reason why I’d want to be fixed, which I’ve probably said before, is so that I can have the rights that I should’ve been born with.

What a guy, though. He took me through the ear, the teeth, and I could never have done this alone. 99% of the wonderful things that have happened to me since I’ve known Tom would never have been possible without him. So, no matter how often I may bitch about God and his ways, I do know that I am blessed in many ways.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1998 The dogs shut up at just after 10:30, thankfully, but if they’ve returned to barking well after dark, are they gonna go back to the all-night barking and be barking at 2:00 in the morning? God, don’t ruin the nighttime peace, please! Despite dogs and stereos, it’s been really peaceful around here overall for a good half a year now. That’s a moving sign, in a sense. Whenever I move, it seems it’s after I’ve gotten the neighbors to shut up. Except for the NHA and Bell Rd., although if I had stayed there, I’d have taken care of those kids next door somehow just like I did with the freeloaders. I’m not saying there won’t be an occasional outburst from the freeloaders, though.

Those freeloaders surprised me by acting out on Easter and being gone on Labor Day, so who knows if old Thanksgiving and Christmas patterns will hold? So far, I’ve never heard them on Thanksgiving or New Year. They go away on Christmas, but that was when he’d be in the picture, so will she herself go away? Her mother’s dead, so she isn’t out of state, although we do know she knows people out of state. I don’t know how I know the mother’s dead. I just do. I’ve never seen a mother figure visiting, and I just vibe it.

It’s still a bummer to know that this sick bitch next door can sleep through these dogs barking just a few feet away from her window. But the big question is - how??? How can she, how can anyone sleep with that shit just a few feet away? Are she and her boy toy and all their friends very hard of hearing?

I questioned saying that we had $400 spare dollars that we were gonna gamble with and get Patrice with (on Andy’s machine) knowing he’d be thinking, I could use that money for food and cigarettes, although my pot’s free thanks to Laura’s dealer boyfriend. However, other people’s lives have to go on, and he’s 36 years old. Plenty old enough to fend for himself. It’s up to him to do what he can to stop eating so much, make his food last, make more money, and get out of debt. I know everyone’s different, but I don’t understand why he won’t quit the pot. He’s quit several times for a few months, so if he can go for a few months, can’t he quit? Then all he’d have to worry about having to quit would be the smokes. But that pot’s gonna cost him at some point again, so why doesn’t he take that pot money and buy food with it?

Later…

Yeah, the dogs have gone back to their middle-of-the-night barking. I just went out to cool off after walking and one of them just went off on me. Maybe it wasn’t cuz of me, though, cuz I was out at 12:30 dumping shit into the recycle bin which was a hell of a lot louder than my footsteps just now, and they didn’t bark. As I said, this is my last handful of months here, so I won’t take any legal action against these fucking assholes. I just wish, though, that both households were woken up by them and that they’re pissed! But that’s just a fantasy. They slept right through it. If you can sleep through barking dogs that are that loud and just a few feet away, you can sleep through anything. So these dogs were always outside 24/7 just as I thought they were, and it was just an unusually quiet year for these dogs. These are specially trained attack dogs, that’ll go off on anything they hear, but not quite. I just went out and scraped my feet and stomped a few times, knowing their keen ears could hear it just fine, and they didn’t go off. Maybe they’re only instructed to pitch a fit if they hear something in the alley or close to their house.

Later…

I was rather disturbed earlier with a memory of being woke up to the sounds of my father beating the shit out of my sister. I remember crying and then Dureen came into the room.

Thank you for the wonderful memories, Dureen and Art.

After I pushed this memory aside, which sometimes takes a while to do when I get one of these shitty memories, I laughed to myself over the fact that Dureen spent all those years being guilty over the wrong thing. It’s not the ear she should’ve felt guilty about for so long, it’s the abuse she should’ve felt guilty about. To each their own I know, but if it were me that did what she did to a child, I think I’d want to kill myself for it. Even if I did that to other adults, I’d feel bad. I’d want to seek some serious help.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1998 This time of year, the after-dark weather’s great for cooling down after a walk on the treadmill. It’s chilly out now.

Just let the whiner in, and after watching a couple of movies that made me feel lazy, I did some walking.

I’m so fucking watery and bloated right now but still haven’t gotten more than a few bursts of spots. Not yet anyway. I hope quitting caffeine will spare me from the monthly sore tits so God can do something else instead. Seriously, though, I hope it helps. Not even the water pill’s helping with this water. I gotta be around 120 pounds and it’s a little harder to rock, so I’m gonna go hungry for the next couple of days by eating just a couple of bites. I had a TV dinner and some chicken wings, but that’s all I’m gonna have. No pop-tarts, popcorn, or soup in between. Yesterday was my Jack-n-the-Box day, so I had fries and a milkshake. Close to 1000 calories right there. Food’s so fattening. You gotta practically live on air, water, and salad in order to avoid so many calories, but that’s just so hard to do. I have no willpower these days. Like I said before, though, I can live knowing I’ll never be under 115 pounds again, but I don’t want to crack into the 120s again if I can help it. I like to rock comfortably.

You don’t know how good it is, though, to be able to get a period, even if it’s half-assed, and not feel all miserable about it like I used to.

I feel like I have a slight cold, but that’s probably only due to these never-ending, mother-fucking allergies I have day after day after day.

Tom wasn’t a liar yesterday. Oh, no siree! He came like a burst pipe. My period was starting (or trying to) so his subconscious, and maybe his conscious, too, felt safe about it. So, I guess every 6 months or so, when the time is right, even though he’s mostly sure I’m sterile, he’ll relax enough to let himself go.

As long as he’s happy.

Later…

Tom woke me up after I’d slept for a very long time. He said that ever since he heard of this athlete, whose husband tried to wake her up only to find she’d died in her sleep, he was worried and said it’d be very sad to have me die. How sweet of him to care and to worry. I know I would literally die if anything happened to Tom.

When I did get up, I had more of a period today and my tits are less sore, so I’m happy with that.

The dogs have been getting worse in the evenings. The bitch was fine, but the dogs are constantly barking as late as 9:00 or 11:00 nowadays, and tonight it was both of them. They used to shut up around 6:00 or 7:00, but not anymore. Well, I should only have about 8-9 months left of this shit, thank fucking God.

I gotta do some walking soon. Why is it that I do all this walking just to have my legs all mushy and filled with craters? Am I wasting my time here? Or does walking help me more than I realize? It doesn’t cause me to lose weight, but is it keeping my weight from going back up into the 120s, or is it cuz of how I’m eating, or something else? Would I have that many more craters if I didn’t walk? Would I have less stamina?

Got an email from Evie right before she was about to leave to have her gallbladder removed. The same surgery Mary had. Well, I hope she had an easier time than Mary did. Mary had a lot of pain, so we’ll see.

Got an email from Kim who’s had about as much surgery as I’ve had in my whole life in the last 6 years I’ve been out here. She’s having tissue removed from her intestines, but says it’ll only be a half-hour procedure.

Andy will be having himself some company. I think he said that from Wednesday to Thursday Marla, Evan, and the boys will be hitting his place. God! That’s such a tiny house for that many people! I hope they all have fun together, though, and the kids don’t drive Andy too crazy. In my reply message to him, I told him about the leak, about our new plans, and that I wouldn’t be up for company.

Tom fixed the cooler which had something wrong with a pipe somewhere. At least, I think that’s what he said. Well, I’m glad he fixed it and that it didn’t turn out to be a bigger deal than Tom thought/said it’d be.

Now I have what I guess is great news. Tom finally found the main leak in the back room. He said he never would’ve thought to look for it there, but it’s coming from where the old wall heater is. So, he says he’s gonna get the stuff, which will cost about $20, and patch it up this week. Well, I won’t miss that fucking leak!

I said I told Andy about our new plans. Well, our new plans are that instead of going to Vegas, we’re gonna go to the Indian reservation to gamble. Tom calculated and came up with $400 for us to blow on whatever with. He said that if we went by plane, we’d only have about $60 to gamble with after we took out the money for the plane tickets, the hotel, and the food. We could drive, but I don’t want to deal with a 6-7-hour car ride. Besides, we just did a long car trip in April. Tom said flying to Vegas or Laughlin or driving to one of these places, would be fine with him, and so would going to the Indian reservation. I chose the Indian reservation because here’s what we’re going to do - he’s gonna gamble $200. I’m gonna gamble $100 and spend the other $100 on Patrice! I didn’t realize I’d get such a jump-start on my doll collecting! So, in just a couple of months, in December, I’ll get Summer Dream.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 11, 1998 Goodnight, bitch. Yeah, it just went to bed.

Why are the animals acting so weird? The mice haven’t gone over to the other cage that I added back on again, which is totally unlike them. They go everywhere.

I still haven’t seen White Paws and couldn’t get Blackie to come in and eat till just now. Twice I went out and he didn’t budge from where he was sitting which is totally out of character for him. If I were to go in and out every 5 minutes, so would he. That’s how he usually is, anyway. Right now he’s finishing off the chicken I cooked last night.

You can tell it’s cooling down out there, cuz he’s starting to use the recliner again.

Later…

I was just organizing my song file and giggled to myself over the song Without the Joy that I wrote in 1998. Now that I don’t want a child anymore, I guess I better write a song called With the Joy!

I finished another Ruby Jean Jensen book and this one was different than most of her books. It was the most realistic, too. It only had one supernatural monster that was only in the story briefly. A woman and her kids were running from an abusive husband/father that the woman thought she’d killed. So the guy found them and their driver who was driving them to houses within the Underground Railroad, killed him, then he came back as a monster that their dead dog returned to kill.

Her usual stories consist of haunted houses or haunted dolls. Something like that.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1998 I was outside hanging some heavy stuff out like jeans and towels that I won’t get till the morning when I thought to myself, you definitely wouldn’t hear what I’m hearing now at 10:00 on a Saturday night in October in New England. I could hear dogs and voices off in the distance. Something you just don’t hear at that time of night, weekend or not, in October back there. Yeah, Arizona’s a noisier state, but since it was off in the distance, it was OK.

I got up at 7:30 PM and Tom said he heard not one car door from next door. Yeah, she knew I’d be asleep somehow and not up to be bugged by that shit. He did go out for a while to Sears, though, to pick up a battery charger for the newest batteries they have these days and to get a mini tool kit. At around 8:30, we heard one car door that was probably from over there, and ever since then, there have been no cars over there, but the place is brightly lit. I’m sure she’ll be hitting the sack, though, anytime now.

Tom pointed out another thing about Lisa. I know she won’t be coming out here. Not while she’s still in high school, anyhow, but if she did, that’d be a big sign that things were really bad there for her to give up her friends and her familiar surroundings.

I had to have had at least 2500 calories yesterday but am still smaller.

After yesterday’s screw, I wiped off a big spot. The kind you have when you have a light flow. But ever since then, I haven’t had anything more. I’m sure it’ll pick up within the next few days, though.

Tom made me a macro that’ll cap a document from where I tell it to. So that way, I can cap at the end of a long document that I may add on to and I won’t have to cap the whole thing again.

Now how can this wonderful man who does such things for me, still be such a liar??? He’s still lying about sex. He still goes right along with me when I make comments about how he cums most of the time when the real truth is that he hasn’t since April, and the right thing for him to do would be to come out and correct me on this, but for some reason, he won’t. But why? Why’s he so determined to hide his not cumming? I’m trying to subtly drop hints that say, “I don’t care if you don’t cum. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. And besides, I don’t want a kid,” but he just doesn’t get it. I don’t know what the fuck’s going through his mind or why he feels he has to lie to me, but I’m still gonna keep my mouth shut. He obviously feels the need to do this, so if it makes him happy to think I think he cums, I won’t spill the beans on him just yet, although I’m sure he’ll insist he really was/is cumming all along when I do spill the beans. He’s not gonna admit he lied. He’ll make up a lame excuse for not correcting me when I make my comments about it. I know him.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 9, 1998 Tom and I slept together yesterday and the day before. He went to bed after I was asleep, but when he went to bed today, I was already up. He woke me up yesterday, but I was about ready to get up, anyhow.

The day before yesterday, I woke up a couple of hours too early. I thought a bang of some kind woke me up, but Tom said he didn’t hear anything and that if it was a bang, it may have been a car door across the street cuz he looked and there was nothing going on next door. I don’t know. The freeloader’s door slamming doesn’t wake me up. Maybe it was a dream. I ended up going back to sleep for a couple more hours, though, cuz of my allergies. I had to take a Benadryl which knocked me back out.

At 4:00 today, I could tell the weekend had arrived, cuz our first bass thumper went thumping by. I don’t know if that bitch next door’s gonna have company tonight or not.

You know, I kind of wish she had a car. Then maybe so many people wouldn’t be in and out of here on weekends. Maybe she’d go to them for a change, but I really think there are drugs involved, too, that are coming from her house.

I really like this author Ruby Jean Jensen. In a sense, she’s better than John Saul. The only thing I don’t like is the same thing all authors do, and that is that they spend too much time getting too descriptive. She tells things we don’t need to know in order to know the story.

I’ve got conflicting vibes and info as to when Ma will die. She’ll die when she dies and I know that, but the doctor’s saying something that doesn’t go with my vibes, yet that makes sense. The doctor puts her out of here sometime next summer. I see her going shortly after she turns 77. But the summer makes sense. God would just have to off her as he did with Dad while it was so fucking hot out! There’s nothing like going to a funeral when it’s scorching hot out.

Again I’m upset with Tom for not pulling his weight around here. I mean, yes, he does his best to keep things organized in the back room which I appreciate, and I know he doesn’t always have time, and I know he’s got a lot of aches and pains at his age, and I’m glad he finally started trimming the tree out front after I’ve been trying to get him to do so for weeks, but what’s pissing me off is that he’s getting agitated about my nagging at him to do the shit that’s supposed to be his responsibility in the first place. It’s his job to do the yard work, so what’s the problem?

Although my anger towards Bill is cooling down a bit (that doesn’t mean I don’t hate the guy’s guts and that I still don’t want to kill him) and Doe, Art, and Larry are becoming more and more a thing of the past, I often find myself depressed over things that never happened. What I mean is that I could be sitting here typing as I am now, then suddenly, out of the blue, comes a vision of someone shooting Tom and myself. No, these images aren’t premonitions, but they really bother me. They’re sad, they’re scary, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. Sometimes the disturbing images involve faceless, nameless people. Other times it’s Larry. It’s usually either a lot of people or just one person with a gun, and in utter sadness, helplessness, and terror, one of us watches the other slowly get killed off, and it’s so traumatizing to even think about! I try to push these thoughts out of my head as soon as they come.

Later…

I’m frying up chicken wings now. I haven’t done this in a long time. I’m glad I decided to live and let my weight take care of itself. My days of trying to fight the way my body is naturally, are over.

Later…

Blackie’s now finishing the leftover chicken.

The more I think about it, the more I’m glad Lisa won’t be coming out here. Don’t get me wrong, though, cuz I can’t wait for her to come out on either a visit or to live here after she’s out of school, but I don’t really want her living with us for the same reason I don’t want our own kid or another adult rooming with us here. If Lisa lived here and if I were up at 2:00 in the morning wanting to sing, I couldn’t do that with her here. I also couldn’t handle the cutting any more than my mother could. Just because someone’s gone through what someone else is going through, doesn’t mean they can deal with it.

I also know how much God prefers a child to live with an abusive person, so as sick and as senseless as God’s ways are, I have to trust that there is a reason for his creating parents like Tammy. And I have to trust that he knows what he’s doing with Lisa and that he’ll look out for her, even if he didn’t look out for my nephew. As Tom said, bad can be good, cuz it’ll teach her things and make her stronger.

There goes the second stereo of the night and the night is still young. Even when it’s not, they’ll still be banging by.

Great. Just great. I forgot that I’ve got another couple of hours or so before I can have any peace around here so I better keep the fan on. The fucking dogs don’t shut up nowadays till around 9:15, and it’s always the one with the higher-pitched bark. That one barks twice as much as the other one, especially at night.

Let me go see if Joebitch is having her little cronies over tonight.

Nope. Didn’t hear any door slamming, either. That’s OK, cuz she knows she has a whole 3 days to do the company scene.

When’s MLK Day? January or February? Anyway, what did this fucking Martin Luther King do? Get things so that the blacks could go to our schools, use our bathrooms, sit wherever they want on our buses, drink out of our water fountains, then loot the buildings that they didn’t burn down, beat the snot out of innocent people, then cry racism? Way to go Martin.

Later…

I spoke with Andy last night and you know, I’m really fed up with him. I start off by saying, “Don’t get your hopes up” (about Lisa), then he butts in and says, “You’re pregnant?” How many more times do I have to tell him I’m sterile and that there is no way I can conceive? Does he not know that the sterile don’t conceive? Does he know what sterile means? Does he listen to or care to remember a damn thing I say? Or is his memory that shitty? Does he have his mind on himself or on other things when I talk?

Then he said our talks are rare. But we talk once a week. That’s not rare. Although to him, I’m sure it is. If we spoke twice a day that’d be rare for him.

I asked him if he’s serious about going back east in May and he swears he still is dead serious and that he’s going. I hope so cuz nowadays I think he’d be a better long-distance friend. If I were still into the phone and bars, then no, but I’d rather do the bulk of our keeping in touch by mail.

Most importantly, I really hope to hell that he and David work out and that this is what he wants, needs, and has been looking for all these years.

I asked Andy if he was overeating and he stuttered but then denied overeating. I could hear the guilt in his voice, though. So that’s when I suggested he try this mineral pill to help curb his appetite. He said he couldn’t afford it. Then how can he afford to pig out? Is he swiping most of this food from work? See, I think what he’s doing is this - say he’s got the money for two weeks of food. He goes out and buys it, but he eats it in just one week.

Later…

What a surprise. I was in the bathroom waxing my braces when I casually glanced in the mirror and noticed my chin didn’t double up on me with my head lowered. When I’d put my head down, even just slightly, my chin would double over, but it didn’t. It does if I put my head all the way down. It’s in some people’s nature to have more of a sloped neck than others. I’d have to be skin and bones before I’d lose the droopy neck.

It seems I’ve lost about an inch in the thighs and hips, too, but my stomach and tits are a whole different story. I’m so bloated right now. I don’t know what the hell that spot was about that I had several days ago, but I just hope I get my period soon so I can get some of this soreness and bloat off of me. I’d still be pretty big. I mean, I’m naturally 115-118 pounds these days like it or not, unless I suffer by eating just one bite a day, which I refuse to do.

As I said, I’m still gonna walk, and I’m not gonna shove a million calories of pure junk into my mouth each day, but seeing Tom’s got himself cakes and pudding without any guilt or worry encourages me to live a little more. First I was worried about weight, then eating healthy, and so to give myself a break, I stole one of his cakes, although I’m not naturally a junk food junkie to begin with. I like healthy foods more than most do. However, I envy people like Mary who can eat and eat and not give a shit about if the food’s good for them or how fat they are. Don’t get me wrong. Mary’s not huge. She’s about Evie’s height at 5’ 3” and she’s only in the 150s and not the 170s, but Mary’s never had any kids, either. Just a couple of miscarriages. Anyway, I still envy women like that and guys. They don’t give a shit how they look. They just eat whatever they want, whenever they want to. I’m on my way, though. I’m not gonna eat at McDonald’s every day like Mary does, and I wouldn’t be OK with gaining 30 pounds, but so what if I gain 10 pounds? So what if I lose 10 pounds? Get it? I’m just gonna go with the flow within reason, is what I’m saying.

It looks like we’re back to having sex on the weekends again due to things that come up or cuz of our schedules. It’s easier for us that way, I think, and it suits me better now that my appetite’s been low. Actually, once a month would suit me. Or even once every few months. I just have no desire to cum with this guy. I don’t know why, but I’m not really worried about it now. I don’t know if it’ll bother me in the future or not, but the good thing about it is, is that I know it doesn’t bother Tom. He’s happy either way and he’ll always let me be myself. He’d also never complain about my not cumming cuz he wouldn’t want me doing that to him, but trust me, I won’t.

Quitting smoking may not have helped my nose, but at least it killed my baby desires and my constant horniness. Lucky surprise for me, huh?

Here goes the fourth car stereo.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8, 1998 I talked to Tom about my discussion with Tammy and Lisa and was very happy to hear that taking in Lisa if it came down to that, would be no problem.

I asked him if he felt that Lisa was a typical teenager and if a parent could hype things up for whatever reason, or if he thought Lisa may be worse off in any way as far as the behavior goes. He says he’d guess Lisa’s pretty typical, but that doesn’t mean Tammy’s not as frustrated as she is. Meaning, yes, Tammy’s put up with a lot. We also can’t thoroughly know just how things are from 3000 miles away.

Tom was surprised that you’re an adult at 16 there. You can drop out of school at that age, though and that was Tom’s biggest concern about Lisa. If she doesn’t finish school, she’s gonna really be lowering her options as to what she can do. She should really try to do well in school so she could maybe get some scholarship money if she wanted to go to college. Guess she’s gotta be the one to decide if she wants to drop out, stay in and do bad, stay in and do good.

Also, as Tom pointed out, Lisa’s a person and she’s gonna become an adult and do as she pleases whether or not we agree with her and we can’t always protect her. True. And constantly telling her not to call Larry may not have been a very cool idea, cuz as Tom said, sometimes telling a child not to do something more than once, can spark their curiosity all the more.

When I told him how Tammy gives her chores to help with Lisa’s self-esteem, Tom said that Lisa may not see it that way. She may see it as a punishment.

Yes, I know and understand the lack of self-esteem. Not just cuz of the shit Dureen put me through, but just God’s not allowing me to do the things I once wanted to do, makes me feel like he had no confidence in me and that sort of lowered my self-esteem. I’m very glad he sterilized me. It was the right thing to do to someone who could never handle a kid, but it’s still rubbing in the reality of my weakness and this lowers my self-esteem.

If Lisa came out here, I would want as little to do with Bill as legally possible and there’d be no way shape or form that that man could ever step foot in this house. Oh, and Tom says he feels that if Larry, Dureen or Art knew that Lisa lived with us, they wouldn’t give us any legal hassles. Well, that’d be up to them, but they��d never succeed with any spite tricks.

Tom feels that not only could I handle a kid of our own, but that due to Lisa’s age, I don’t have to worry about cooking for her. I can cook for her at times, just like I do for us, but other times, she may be just as content popping in a TV dinner just like he is. Also, she gets herself up for school and dressed and all that. She’s not an infant who needs diapers changed and who needs to be fed. True. Tom also reminded me that it’d be best not to treat her like a child, cuz as long as you treat someone like one, they’ll act it. I totally believe this is true. Dureen and Art always treated me like a child (and they still would even if I were 60) and it did seem to have a rather “childish” effect on me.

Tom also doesn’t feel that our schedules will matter.

Tom pointed out how if Lisa came out here, it’d be very hard for her to give up her friends and her familiar surroundings. I understand that. Totally. Cuz I sure as hell hated to do that, even though I hated living with Dureen and Art.

Tom feels that one of the biggest mistakes you can make with a person is to try to control them, and again, I thoroughly agree. Control freaks do no one any good. People need to be themselves. They need to have choices and that’s one of the things Dureen did to me that really made adulthood hard for me. Besides being so controlling, she’d never give me choices and ask me if I wanted to wear the red shirt or the blue shirt or what I wanted for lunch, etc. So as an adult, decision-making is very hard for me.

I asked Tom, well, what if she does come out here and make our lives hell. Tom said no one can make our lives as a couple hell. If she came out here and stole from stores, burned down houses, killed people - that’s her choice and her problem, as long as she didn’t kill us. And he advised me not to reflect my experiences on her. Yeah, I know. Just because something was rough on me, doesn’t mean it will be for her.

I tried again to get into that other word processor, that has an auto cap and correct thing, but I just couldn’t. It caps and corrects most words as you go along. Well, it caps after a period.

Haven’t seen White Paws in days, but I’m sure Tom will lure her to the door with food this long, door-slamming, ball-playing weekend. I still can’t believe the ball games haven’t started yet. What’s taking so long? It’s October already. But no one’s played yet. Not the Lopez’s kids, other neighborhood kids, or kids associated with the freeloaders themselves.

I still say leave it to God to make sure that I’m the one to get a pack of Mormons next to me, a pack of subsidized freeloaders, and a basketball hoop. Most houses don’t have hoops, but God just had to make sure that of all the houses that had a hoop, it had to be right next door to me. It just had to be!

I may not be the least bit surprised to have neighbors like the Mormons and like the freeloaders, although the Mormons were considerate of my peace in the end, but I am surprised there weren’t more turnovers. I really thought we’d go through 4-5 households before we left.

My allergies have been miserable. We went back to the AC since the cooler brings in pollen. It can’t filter it very well. The bulk of my allergy problems would end if I got rid of the animals, but sorry God, it’s not gonna happen. I’m not gonna give in, and if I must pay to have animals, fine.

I can already sense the negative vibes coming from Connecticut (not that I ever expected differently, and I’d sense any serious life changes coming up if God decided to make any) as far as Lisa’s concerned. My strong “no kids” vibe remains and like I said, taking Lisa in isn’t something God would go for any more than Bill would. Children are not a part of my life. Never have been. Never will be. Unless you want to count neighbor’s kids from back there and from here that have been a part of my life in the wrong kind of way, kids are not part of my life’s theme/destiny.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1998 Changed the mice and rat cages. I’m using all the cages and almost all but two tubes.

I have so much to write concerning Lisa and Tammy. The 3 of us spoke earlier. I’ll try to word our discussion as best I can. It’s just that there are so many different things we talked about that are kind of connected. One thing led to another.

The good news is that Tammy’s divorce is final tomorrow.

For my sister to discuss me, of all people, taking in Lisa (provided we talk with Tom and he agrees, of course) tells me just how desperate the situation there is. It’s not gonna happen, though. That much I do know. I mean I just vibe it. Unfortunately, she and Bill have joint custody, and there’s no way in hell Bill will go for it. If he told Larry, whom he’s buddy-buddy with to fuck off, he sure as hell will tell me that and much more. He thinks I’m totally crazy. Also, if legal arrangements were ever made for Lisa to live here, we’d have to really hide it from Larry, cuz he’d call the state the second he got word of it out of spite cuz he wanted her. My parents wouldn’t agree with it one bit either, and they’d call the state, too. However, if you’re like most of us, you know the state’s useless. Let them call. They can’t prove any abuse most of the time and even when they can, they don’t do shit. Yes, Tammy should legally have the kids taken away from her, but that can’t be proven. She’s smart enough to hide her shit. Someone like Paula B wouldn’t have brains enough to, though. Tammy wouldn’t hit or swear at Lisa in front of the state. Paula would.

According to Tammy, she could’ve gotten sole custody, but because Lisa’s now on her dad’s side, she can’t. She said that if Lisa filled out a form detailing his abuse, then he’d have no custody. Lisa’s wanting to be friendly with him makes no sense to me, but at the same time, it does. I can see her feeling confused. I went through that at her age. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to my parents, but I didn’t want to put up with their abuse, either.

Now Tammy insists that if Lisa comes out here, she’ll walk all over us and will lie to us. What do I think about that? I just don’t know. She’s been proven to have lied to me about smoking and about calling Larry. She told me she’s only called there a couple of times in the last few months, yet according to Tammy, there are 22 calls to him on her phone bill for the month of August. I don’t know if she’s trying to reach out to Larry, to Jen, or to both, or what. All Tammy and I could do yet again, was remind Lisa that there are other Jens and Larrys out there, so if we can spare her from one more asshole, we’ll do our best, cuz she’s gonna meet enough of those throughout her lifetime, and although Jen’s a sweetheart, she’s not worth the close connection to Larry. Larry may be funny, but sooner or later, he’s gonna wimp out of being able to deal with her and he’ll dump her. I’m virtually 100% certain of this, too, and we just want to protect her. That’s all. But as Tammy said, she’s gonna do whatever she wants and in just a few months, it’ll be her legal right to do so since in Connecticut, she’s an adult at 16. In fact, Tammy’s saying that she wants her out of there on January 20th (her birthday).

On the other hand, kids don’t always behave the same way with others as they would with parents. I don’t know what to think or believe anymore, but I’m gonna keep my promise to Lisa and that’s to be there for her in any way I can for the rest of my life. I’ll do whatever I can do to help her. When I mentioned her coming out on just a vacation, she said nope, she’s not deserving of that.

She was pissed off that Lisa rang up $111 of calls to Larry and me and I don’t know why she didn’t bother calling me collect.

I wish I could get it through to her that she doesn’t have to lie to me. Telling the truth, even if I disagree with it, won’t lessen my love for her or make me dump her. She doesn’t have to tell me something I want to hear that’s not true, just to get my love and approval and all that. I’d rather her tell me 10 things I disagreed with but were true rather than one good lie.

I still think the best thing for everybody would be for her to just do as she’s told like it or not, finish school, then go wherever she wants.

I also let Tammy know that I wouldn’t make any decisions without talking to Tom first, and she understood and knows that I’ll talk to Tom, then we can all talk if need be. She’s going to find out what her legal rights are, talk to Bill, and an attorney. I didn’t tell her this, but I don’t know if Tom would be too thrilled with the idea of playing parent or guardian here and having to deal with such responsibility. Also, I question my own abilities here. She may not be an infant or a toddler, but still, how am I gonna manage a schedule for her? How will I cook and all that? I’m child-illiterate and wouldn’t always know the best things to say/do. Can I handle this kind of responsibility? Remember, God doesn’t think so. He made me sterile for a reason. I’m not seeking out help about my sterility for a reason.

I asked Tammy if she had any friends who could help and who could maybe take Lisa for a day or so when things get tough and when they really get fed up with each other to give each other a breather, but she said no.

After I advised Lisa to do all she can possibly do to avoid people who hit her or abuse her in any way, I made it clear to her that if she does come here, there’ll basically be just 3 rules, besides the general rule of doing right and being honest. Smoke outside only, since no one can stop her from doing that in the first place. Keep her room neat. And let us know what she’s up to (like if she wants to go out somewhere). As we both told her, that’s a piece of cake compared to having to work and make ends meet, pay bills, and maintain a place to live. And that if she does walk all over us, she has to go. I won’t cut her out of my life completely and I’ll still love her, but she can’t live here if she’s gonna be smoking indoors or screwing up bad.

I feel bad for Tammy, I understand her frustrations, fears, anxieties, etc., but I still think the bulk of the problem is her. I don’t know if this is typical teenage behavior, or if it is overkill like Tammy says it is, but still, Tammy’s yelling and verbal abuse aren’t helping. She calls Lisa a bitch and refers to her as a bitch, and that’s really degrading. Doesn’t she remember what it was like when Doe would degrade her and call her a fat pig? It’s OK to use swear words to express yourself, in my opinion, but it’s another to swear at someone. Couldn’t she kindly say to Lisa something like, “You know, you’re acting sort of bitchy,” or something like that? Must she constantly yell, demand, and cuss her out? And I thought it was pretty cold of her to tell her she doesn’t have a mother anymore and that she can no longer take her into her arms or heart.

Tammy was really pissed to find that Lisa smoked in her room when she was supposed to do it outside. I told Tammy that since I’m not the parent and don’t have the experience with kids that she’s got, I may not know what the hell I’m saying, but maybe she’s practicing what she preaches too much, and once again, that didn’t help us when Dureen and Art did this to us. Tammy says she smokes inside. Well, maybe she and Lisa both need to go out on the deck to smoke. She said the new smoking rule is that she’s underage, so she can’t smoke anywhere.

I feel bad for Lisa, too, regardless of what she’s lied about or done wrong, cuz I know how hard Tammy is to live with and to be around. The poor kid must’ve felt like we were totally ganging up on her and I reminded her that that’s not our intention at all. We just want to help.

I told Lisa that I didn’t mean to put her on the spot and that Tammy could tell me if it wasn’t an appropriate question, but that I wanted Lisa to think about it and be honest if she was gonna answer. I asked if she’d prefer to live there or here. Tammy said she didn’t mind my asking that. Lisa’s answer was both, cuz it’d be weird not living with her mom. That’s understandable after living with her for 15 years.

Tammy says that if she compliments Lisa for doing well, Lisa goes and does the opposite. This is the most baffling thing she told me. I don’t quite get that one. She asked Lisa while we were all talking. Lisa said she didn’t know. Then Tammy bitched that Lisa always says she doesn’t know.

Tammy bitched about Lisa getting suspended twice from school, having knives and cigarette butts all over her room, siding with Bill, talking bad about her to Mark, not doing chores, and so much more. She says Lisa’s acting like a whore, hanging on boys all the time, lying through her teeth, scaring her sisters, etc. Tammy’s not just upset about Lisa’s calling Larry because of how he’ll dump her, but because of how he called the state. And besides, I thought his cold treatment of her had already begun from what she’s told me.

What do I think? God, I just don’t know. I believe Lisa is rebellious in a lot of ways, but I wonder if it’s as bad as Tammy says it is and I wonder if Lisa would be the same way out here with us if she is as Tammy says she is. Lisa may have lied here and there, but Tammy’s notorious for lying, too. She’ll even admit that. I can never know the whole truth from this distance.

Normally I would say that if you can’t cut it in one state, you can’t cut it in another, but I don’t know about that anymore after my own personal experience. I had nothing but setbacks and hardships back east. Here, I’ve had my bad days as anyone else would, and I may have no kids or a career, but I haven’t been depressed in ages and I’ve had one success after another, and I don’t know if that’s pure coincidence. I doubt it.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1998 I’m gonna have plenty of car door slamming next weekend to make up for last weekend being on the mild side of the slamming, and God only knows what else on top of that. It’s a 3-day holiday weekend. Columbus Day. Yeah, from here on out till the New Year, we’ll be jammed with holidays, but at least I know they go elsewhere for Thanksgiving and Christmas. That is unless that changes.

I still can’t believe the after-school or weekend ball games haven’t started back up yet. It’s cooled down enough. I’ll bet that’s even why the freeloader parks on the street. To leave room for any kids who may want to use the hoop.

In much better news, I got my second porcelain doll, although the plastic ones they had were nice, too. Yes, Anne, although she has a boring name, puts Jessica to shame! She even puts the Rapunzel doll to shame, so I’m knocking her off my list. Anne’s a little taller than Jessica at 17”. She’s also got blond hair and blue eyes with a much more realistic face. She has an OK blue floral dress, which sort of reminds me of my 2nd and 40th journal covers. It’s got lace trim at the neck, wrists, and hem. There’s white from the chest to the waist with a blue satin ribbon. She has white stockings and white shoes each with a blue ribbon. She has silk pantaloons. Her fingernails aren’t painted red like Jessica’s. Her dress is much nicer than Jessica’s. She has no hat on. This is the same $40 doll that I liked the last time I was there. Best of all, her hair’s down to her knees! I guess really long hair’s the style for dolls these days cuz you’d be hard-pressed to find any with hair above the waist from what we could see. I wanted at least one with really long hair and the rest can have hair at any length as long as it’s not above the shoulders, and I don’t want boy dolls either.

This store was a nice, cozy family-owned and operated business, their dolls range from $15 to over a grand and I asked them about doll making, but it’s really no less costly than if you just buy the dolls.

I saw Patrice there, the next doll I wanted from the Ashton-Drake catalog I’ve got. Her tag even had the name of the catalog on it. She’s just as beautiful as the catalog showed at the same price of $100. So, I’ll get her from the store, rather than from the catalog, unless she’s sold by December when I’ll probably be getting her since I don’t expect to win $100 in Vegas. I didn’t know this about Patrice, but she’s on a music box stand that twirls!

Tentatively, I’ll be getting the remaining 3 I liked from the catalog, then I want to save up for my final doll, which is to be one of those big 24” or more dolls that cost $200 - $300. She’ll no doubt have very dark eyes and hair.

The Melanie doll was still there.

They also have a doll-making class and it’s about $120 to get started. As Tom pointed out, we spent more than that when we were trying out oil painting, and you couldn’t even begin to get into computers at that price. I still don’t know if I’ll ever enroll in such a thing. Besides, I’m more of a self-taught kind of girl. If I want to learn something, I usually prefer to try to figure it out for myself.

I braided Jessica’s hair for variety. Both Tom and I like her hair better braided. Guess her hair got rather dusty. I sneezed a dozen or so times doing it.

What a bummer with the number blocking. Must be my compensation for Anne, but anyway, I went to block a business number that actually showed its number, but a recording told me my list was full and that I’d have to remove a number to add this one. That sucks! I didn’t know there was a limit.

Later…

That was weird. A call just came up as anonymous and I heard what sounded like a middle-aged white woman with a Southern accent say, “Hey Vern. Hope you ain’t working this afternoon. Give me a call when you get home.”

Didn’t she hear Tom’s voice in our outgoing message and realize that wasn’t Vern’s voice?

Later…

I don’t know if I’m seeing things, or what, but I noticed muscle definition the whole length of my calves from knee to ankle, and I also noticed some along the sides of my thighs. A place where I haven’t had any muscle in years. Tom said he noticed it, too.

And now Tom’s also saying that he never recommended I bring up the issue of testing when I go for the exam. He said to get the exam done, get to know the doctor, and then make that decision. That’s not what he said earlier. I thought he said to mention it upon getting my exam. I mean, they’re gonna ask questions anyway.

Why don’t I just forget it? I mean, a child’s not meant to be whether or not I wanted one, I’m not that curious anymore as to what’s wrong, so why don’t I just get the exam, tell them the truth when they ask about birth control (I don’t need birth control or want kids), and then there’ll be nothing for us to argue/disagree on. Yes, that’s what I’ll do and it’s my final decision. It’s been a year now since I both lost interest, and got very sick of the issues of kids, answers as to why I’m sterile, and sex. Sex is another reason why it’d be foolish for me to go. They’d want to test us both and only one of us would cooperate. I will never again deal with his not cumming. That, too, is a closed chapter in my life. It’s his life and his body, so the only one that can deal with it, if he chooses to, is himself. So, consider the baby, the getting answers, the sex, a done deal, and a closed chapter in my life. From here on out, I’ll just endure the boring sex we have, and that’s it. He can go in me. He cannot go in me. He can cum. He cannot cum.

I thought of a funny, yet sadly true thing about when I was so pissed to find the doll store closed on Monday. Well, if I were black, the proper thing to have done in that case would’ve been to smash my way into the store and loot it.

I also got a kick out of how one of the women from that movie was bitching about how everything’s Vietnamese nowadays. Wrong. Everything’s pregnancy and babies these days.

Later…

Bitch next door goes to bed early - 9:00.

This cat is both just like Shadow was, and totally different. He’s just as loving as Shadow was, but he’s so well-behaved. Shadow was such a destructive cat. Into everything and anything. Not this cat, though. He doesn’t explore or get into shit. He stays pretty much by his food and water.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1998 Went to see Melanie today, who had her hair up and looked nice, but it didn’t tickle. Tom could hear me moaning from the waiting room.

I told her I quit smoking a year ago yesterday and she said to keep up the good work.

She had a bunch of colorful retainers laid out. Guess I’m gonna get one of those after these braces come off. I told her Tom guessed that these things would be off in 8 weeks, and asked if he was as delusional as I thought, or if he was about right, and she said he was delusional. They won’t be off till around March, as I vibed, but I was surprised when she told me that according to my file, my braces didn’t go on till March 10th. Really? I had thought they’d been on since February or January.

Anyway, she put some kind of a wedge in to rotate the tooth and put more pressure on it and I don’t have to go back for 4 weeks.

After leaving Melie’s we went to the doll store we liked and boy was I pissed! They’re not even open on Mondays! So maybe we’ll go tomorrow.

We did go to the paper store. I needed more white paper and I also got some sheet music stationary.

Now it looks like we won’t be going to Vegas for two weeks. I’m looking forward to flying and having fun gambling. The only bummer is, is that I know for sure I won’t win. Why? Because of the dolls I want. Whenever you really want money for something, it’s harder to get it, but if you don’t really need it for anything, in it comes.

My period’s starting today. It’s a little over a week early. Of course, I’ll spend a few days spotting before I get whatever’s left of the periods I seem to get these days, which isn’t much at all. Again, could it have anything to do with why I’m so heavy? Nah. It’s just part of age and not smoking. I’m only 20 pounds overweight, too. If I were 40 or 50, then I’d worry.

This has been the longest time I’ve been on days in over a decade. This is the first time in between appointments with Mel that my schedule hasn’t completely rotated.

Ratsy was like a guinea pig last night. I’ve never seen him this sweet and loving. Usually, rats are like mice, hamsters, and gerbils. They like to go off and explore a couch or a bed or wherever you put them. Not last night, though. Last night he sat with me like a GP and if I’d move away, he’d follow and burrow himself under my chin.

I’ve got quite a funny freeloader update, but what I’m gonna say won’t be in their excerpts, of course. Well, I killed her. Yup, I’m writing in my excerpts for them as my latest bullshit, that I beat her to death by accident. I got carried away. She came here falsely accusing me of smashing her windows so I went to kick her ass, but killed her instead. From here on out, though, her twin sister Selena will live there with the kid. Selena told me so when she came to the house threatening to have me caught, tried, convicted, and executed. Then I tell Selena - don’t come to my door again. It may kill you, too.

Later…

I watched the movie Riot about the L.A. riots of 1992, and oh my God! It was depressing, scary, and totally infuriating! If the freeloaders next door lowered my opinions of blacks, then this really threw me over the edge. I’ve never hated blacks this much. Never! I’m totally prejudiced now and with complete just cause as far as I’m concerned. These people never wanted “equal” rights. They wanted the most rights. They wanted to be number one and have everyone else be number two.

Yes, the pigs that beat the snot out of Rodney King were 100% wrong. They never should’ve gotten off, but does that give blacks an excuse to shit on society for it? On innocent people that had nothing to do with this shit? I mean, first they shit on whites, then the Asians, then Hispanics, and then they shit on themselves. Yes, you heard right. In their own fucking neighborhoods, they looted and beat and killed, etc. They beat upon their own “brothers” and “sisters.” This is really scary too, cuz I’ve got a pack of blacks just a few feet away from me. What if some similar verdict went down again like that? Cuz as soon as they didn’t get their way with something, would they go smashing up this street and looting from the houses? Would they?

Well here’s my promise to myself - if they move first and if anything happens to this house, I’ll hunt down every single one of them I can find and I’ll personally go to their doors and destroy them. I’ll destroy them! Maybe, just maybe, the freeloaders can go peacefully if they go first and let the past remain in the past, but I don’t know. It’s up to them if they want trouble again, cuz if they shit on me again, someone’s gonna shit right back on them. What goes around truly does come around, but hopefully we’re done with each other from here on out. I don’t want any more trouble than they hopefully don’t want, but like I said, I don’t know, cuz some people do like trouble. All I’m saying is that if they do anything, they’re gonna have to pay the price. Many times over.

Nonetheless, I have absolutely no empathy or pity for these freeloaders. Any shit they’ve gotten be it yesterday or today is shit they asked for and as far as I’m concerned, they have no right to be here. They should all be either shot or sent back to where they came from after you’ve weeded out the one in every million who may be a fairly decent person.

There was a funny part of this movie, believe it or not. This girl was with these two guys who were happily looting, and she was trying to get them to stop. At one store, there was this beautiful dress that the girl put on. The guy she was with urged her to take it, but she said she couldn’t do that. Then she went to reach for her own clothes, but somebody had stolen them, so she had to steal the dress if she didn’t want to run around naked.

Later…

Wow. Summer’s really dying off out there. It’s actually chilly out there right now. Tom said he could’ve used the heater when he was leaving work last night. Thanks to pushy Marjorie, though, we had to take this car that’s even shittier than his old one. He should’ve put his foot down a lot sooner than he did, but still, that’s about $40 we have to pay and all the more time Tom has to lose.

Come on, Marge, I’m getting impatient here. Let’s go now, hurry up and drop dead. I mean, what’s God keeping her around for? Like she has anything left to offer this world? Like there’s something more she has to do before she goes? Yeah, right! Her life’s over, it’s been over, so God, why not just end it and get it over with and let us get on with our lives, huh?

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 4, 1998 You could say I’m in a fine mood since it’s been one year since I quit smoking!! I’m in such shock and disbelief.

For my anniversary, Tom neatened up papers that were cluttered in the back room. This is very nice of him, but I’m afraid this is one of those many projects that he starts but won’t finish for a while. This weekend, he did venture away from the TV to do some computer work, but he mostly did his favorite - the TV.

As I knew/predicted, my oh-so-horny-all-the-time husband didn’t want extras. Neither did I. It’s just that I can be honest about it.

Andy was a pest for a while there, who as figured, didn’t mention the anniversary in his message to me for two reasons. One is because he’s too into himself these days, even if he is less insensitive, and two is because he no doubt forgot about it. About a week ago when we were talking, he did, however, mention being proud of me for it, and that was nice.

I take that back about Tom. He says he’s gonna finish the paper sorting today. Then he also said we could do the file box next weekend. Yeah, right. But whenever we do it, I’m gonna scan the papers we want to keep.

Now back to Andy. He’s such a pest at times, I swear! Is he just too stupid to remember the things I tell him? Or does he just not give a shit? He knows I don’t do weekend chats, he and I just updated each other on our lives just two days ago, yet he has to leave me this message saying nothing but that my machine kept cutting him off and that he’d be around if I wanted to call and chat later. Yeah, the machine kept cutting him off cuz every single fucking time I tried to log in to AOL, he had to call and cut me off. Of all the times this pest had to call, couldn’t it have waited till after I’d gotten online?

So I left him a message reminding him that we just talked and that I was too tied up.

In Andy’s last message to me, he was all thrilled cuz Barbara Nicks lent him $10. Well, I’m happy for him, but is he gonna always be scraping pennies? I sometimes wonder if he’ll live his life as broke as he will loveless. I hope not.

I could be totally wrong on this, but his gut that he complains about has to be coming from somewhere. It’s not just about age, so I wonder if he’s really as hungry as he makes himself out to be. I think that the real reason he’s starving so much of the time is that he’s spending whatever precious money he has left after he pays some of his bills, and buys pot and cigarettes, on food that he’s gobbling up in no time at all. If I’m right, and if he’s eating like a pig and eating his kitchen down the moment he stocks it, he is gonna be starving a lot. He claims he just has a few bites a day, but I don’t think so. His eating seems to be a regular topic in his messages and it’s no wonder that he’s bitching about not being able to eat. He doesn’t ration out his food to last him, however hard that may be. And I know how hard it can be. I went through all that shit myself. My question to God, though, is if he’s always gonna be this way. 90% of his life is just like it was when he was 27 when we reunited, which is in a sense, kind of sad.

Later…

Only one little burst of door-slamming today from the red car. Other than that, Joebitch has been good, and it just went to bed from what I can see. Any door slamming I get from over there is nothing compared to what the cock would give me. The bitch’s cronies are parked outside of the carport when they’re doing their shit, so the sound doesn’t funnel in between the block wall and their carport as much. But when that freeloader would be parked deep in the carport and deliberately slam doors really, really hard - Jesus Christ! I wanted to kill the little shit fuck.

Yesterday was binge day and I had around 2000 calories. I ate like a pig and this double chin, thick waist, big hips, thunder thighs, and bubble butt, really show it, but you know what? I just don’t care! Thank you, God, too, cuz just like I wanted for years to not give a fuck about a kid, I longed for a time when I could be carefree about my weight. Why should I worry about how I look when I’m married and healthy and not looking to be a topless dancer?

I had Tom put the scale away again so I wouldn’t be back into obsessive weighing again out of habit. I know whether I’m big or small by just looking and seeing. The scale last said 118 pounds, though.

Fifteen minutes from now at 9:15, I expect the guard dogs will have their final barking fit of the day.

Tom scanned something into the computer and into my wallpaper menu that I’ll always cherish. I picked my top favorites of the mice - Ziggy, Patch, Tanner, and one of the Cocoas, and had Tom film and capture a shot of them using the camcorder. I also did one of Velvet and Ratsy. Velvet pretty much just looks like a black blob, so I just printed out the mice and Ratsy for Tammy and the girls so they can see their different colors and markings.

Tom had White Paws in today and she was in the kitchen eating with Blackie. She ran when she saw me, cuz she knows I don’t like her. I wish he didn’t have to be so damn soft-hearted when it came to animals, cuz every time I’ve just about gotten rid of her and gotten her to fend for herself, he lures her right back here.

Our cousin Cindy Olsen called but didn’t leave a message, therefore, I don’t know what she wanted Tom to do for her and I know she wanted him to do something for her, cuz nobody calls this guy without wanting him to do something for them.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1998 I’d have a nearly perfect husband if it weren’t for his lying. First he says he blasts TVs and computer games cuz I talk over it, and now it’s cuz he’s got wax in his ears. The truth is that he wants to annoy me. It’s that obvious. Then when I asked him why he hadn’t done anything about this wax or asked for my help, his lame excuse was that I get very impatient with doing his ears, which is BS.

Weeks ago I asked him to please trim the tree/hedges out front, which I know he won’t do. So then why can’t he just admit it? Why can’t he just say he doesn’t want to do it rather than say every single fucking week that he’ll do it?

He’s still lying about cumming. I mean he hasn’t come out and said that he’s cum, but when I imply that he has, he doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t admit to not cumming. Doesn’t he know that this is what I want, though? If he’s just as content to not cum, then it’s best that he doesn’t because then there’s no need to deal with the mess it makes. I understand his reasons for not cumming - neither of us wants a kid, but I don’t understand his need to hide this from me. Or think he’s hiding the truth from me, anyway.

The closer I get to my appointment, the surer I am that I won’t be seeking out fertility testing. Not just because my curiosity’s dying, but because I’m not gonna go in there with a lying husband at my side. I may be able to get the same results I’d get if he did let them have his cum, but I’m not going in there playing games, either. I always firmly believed that if you’re gonna seek help about something, you should be as honest as you can, or else people can’t help you as well.

He’s not the only one with a problem here. It’s not that I can’t cum, it’s that it’s gotten harder for me to cum and I prefer to get off on my own. It’s easier that way. But every time we screw these days, it’s so obvious that neither of us is into it. Last night I felt like I was making love with an 80-year-old man. He huffed and puffed away having no stamina, wasn’t even fully hard, went about it as if it was a big chore, and just wasn’t one bit into it. I wish, though, that he hadn’t bothered, cuz now all that fucking irritation’s back.

Why does he have to lie so much? Why does he lie and say he’s horny all the time? We’ll have plenty of time today and tomorrow for sex. Well, not that I want sex cuz I’m hardly ever horny these days and am not afraid to admit the truth, but do you think he’s gonna initiate sex today or tomorrow? No fucking way. He wouldn’t want that. TV is his sex, so to speak.

I just wish he’d stop lying about what he really wants/likes, and I wish he’d stop saying he was gonna do things he doesn’t want or intend to do.

Later…

Lisa just called all freaked out about her ex-boyfriend. Fortunately, this dude doesn’t go to the same school as she does, but she’s worried that his brother will bring him to her house to kick her ass for “talking shit” about her. Lisa told me she told him that if she had anything to say to him, she’d say it to his face, and doesn’t want to call Tammy, saying it’s her problem. I reminded her that it’s OK to ask for help at times, although I understand one wanting to fight their own battles. She said she was sure he could hurt her. I told her that if she makes up her mind that he can, then he can. I told her not to call him, to hang up on him if he calls, and to cut him off completely if he’s gonna threaten her and behave like this, but not to think she automatically can’t defend herself if need be. She said she didn’t want to carry a knife around for the rest of her life and I told her she has two fists, so she doesn’t need to. I told her to call the cops if he showed up at the door and to stand her ground and fight back if he went after her. She’s got to stop telling herself she’s this defenseless thing or else she’ll believe it and really be defenseless.

Later…

The red car’s been in and out and so has the dark blue car. Who’s next, Joebitch?

Later…

Our little lisp bitch has done well today so far. Hardly any door slamming.

You know, I often find her looking towards the house as if hoping I’d come out. It’s like she wants to catch a glimpse of me. Obviously, she doesn’t know that I know she tried having me served, cuz if she did, wouldn’t she be a wee bit too embarrassed to face me?

I hate it when I think of things when I’m not writing on the computer and I make a mental note to write about it but then forget it.

I hope Lisa will be OK. Statistically speaking, she will be, but there are teenage girls who do get killed by their sick ex-boyfriends. Ain’t it sad to know that she and her sisters will probably never know the love that I know? Most human beings will never know the love Tom and I have for each other. Yes, there are some things I don’t like about him, as none of us are perfect, and I bitch about these things, but it’s like I’m being compensated for all the abusive, sick, assholes I was exposed to before meeting Tom.

I wonder a lot lately - why is God being so nice to me? You’d think I’d have some serious compensation vibe, but I don’t. I’m sure my luck will run out eventually, but still, why’s he being so nice? He’s blessed me with a husband like Tom, let my impossible baby dream die off, and given me peace and quiet. I’ve never felt this relaxed and happy in all my life. He let me off the cigarettes, and I finally accepted that I’ll always be between 115-120 pounds, and my one remaining dream, which is a material dream (moving), is inevitable.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 2, 1998 We went to two doll stores today. The one in Scottsdale that was supposed to be this huge, spectacular store was worse than the mall. It had mostly dollhouses and little dollhouse furniture, which was cute, but not as many dolls as we thought. They were too expensive as was the mall store, and their dolls were so dull.

The other store we went to, which was about the same size as the Scottsdale one and a little bigger than the mall one, had about a dozen nice dolls at much better prices. I saw a couple that was of average size, with nice long hair and nice dresses, for only $30 and $40. So it looks like I’m gonna get one or two from this store, then perhaps I’ll knock off the Rapunzel one from the catalog, and just get the remaining three I want to get from the catalog. I saw one of the dolls there that was listed in the catalog (not one I want). It was for the same price, too.

Another cool thing about the store with the nice $30 and $40 dolls was that it had doll parts for making your own dolls. It had painted heads with the hair attached. There were dresses, shoes, bodies, etc. Next time I’m there, I’m gonna check into this and see if it’s less costly than buying an already made-up doll.

I’m looking forward to making mice wallpaper this weekend. Our camera can’t take detailed shots of the mice. They’re just too little. The camcorder can, though. It can zoom in and get some good face shots. That way I can always have pictures of my favorites to remember, like Ziggy, and Patch with her “eye patch” which consists of a brown circle of fur over one eye.

Had a hell of a miserable memory a couple of evenings ago. It’s not like it’s something I ever forgot, but I seemed to remember it in more detail and the emotions that go with it. Thanks, Doe and Art, for the memories you’ve given me for the rest of my life. It’s not so much the memories that depress or anger me, it’s the emotions that go with the memories. It’s remembering how I felt at a particular time. Not just the events of the memory itself. It’s a really crappy thought to know that I have to live with these memories for the rest of my life since we can’t erase memories. At least I can’t, anyway. All I can do is try to divert my mind’s attention when they come and think of something more pleasant.

I’ll go ahead and write about this last one, though. It basically came to me while I was listening to music just as the sun was almost completely set. It was when I could see the basic outlines, with no color or details, of the furniture in the room. Back when I’d get in trouble at school, one of the things that bitch did was send me right to bed. As early as 3:00. Normally, my bedtime in elementary school, which was when this would happen mostly, was 8:00. What I remembered was the sheer depression and boredom that’d overcome me for hours as I’d lay there wishing and praying for the darkness to come. The darker it got, the better I’d feel, cuz then I’d know it had to be around the time I was supposed to be in bed anyway. I couldn’t see the time, though. The little square, yellow alarm clock I had wasn’t a digital clock that lit up.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1998 It’s hard to believe it’s already October! The year has been flying by. I’m glad time seems to be passing so quickly because then we can be moving soon enough. Although looking at it logically, we still have a long way to go before we’re out of here. My vibes strongly tell me we won’t be moved till at least June and that’s almost a whole year away.

The tooth is really coming down and making progress with sliding into place. Tom guesses that I’ll have these braces off in 8 weeks. I wish! I doubt that, though. I think they’ll be on till February or March.

Kim’s still having it rough with the medical end of things. She has to have more tissue from her cervix removed. She just started this new natural mineral pill, too, but it’s supposed to be for making tits bigger. She said it works well and that as an added side effect, it causes hair and nail growth to speed up. Well, my hair is to my lower ass, so I don’t need that. She can have my tits, I told her. I hate how mine has grown. Kim was all psyched about feeling her tits move when she walks. I hate that. That’s totally uncomfortable for me. I hate how they squish together, too, when I’m lying on my side.

Woke up at 114 pounds. The water pill I took yesterday took off 4 pounds of water. Naturally, I’m stuck, as I tend to be after taking one of those, and before my period. I had been doing really well there for a while, too, with the shitting.

Tom’s home now, and if Evie knows what she’s talking about, then he’ll be telling me that Mary had a rough time with her surgery.

Later…

Tom crashed a little while ago, so he can be well-rested for going to the doll store tomorrow.

Mary’s doctor lied to her, from what I was told. He told her that the procedure would be painless, but that was not the case. She’s in a lot of pain. Hopefully, she’ll be on the mend soon enough. She liked the card I gave her, and they all liked the picture booklet I made up.

We switched to the cooler today and it’s nice to have the fresh air in here, even if Phoenix has become polluted. Helps get some of the pet smells out. It’s a bit more humid in here now, but not like it’d be if it were either humid outside, very hot, or both. It’s only to be 92º today. According to the weather line, it’ll only be 88º next Monday.

Later…

Looks like Ratsy here has finally decided to nap inside his nest. That’s nice. The more I see it, though, I think the log’s too low for him. The mice would appreciate the log and nest a hell of a lot more, but it’s nice to see he finally gave it a try.

From 4:00 to an hour ago, I ended up napping. Hopefully, it won’t throw my schedule off of going out tomorrow. It shouldn’t, though. At midnight, I’ll take a couple of Benadryl. Then all I have to worry about is making it to my Monday appointment, which should be easy enough.

I just got up to let Blackie in. I knew he’d be hungry. He hasn’t eaten in many hours. Still no sign of White Paws. This has got to be the longest stretch of time that’s passed without my seeing her, but she’ll be back. What truly is amazing, though, is the fact that I haven’t seen Mama Cat in ages! You’d think she’d still come around every once and a while to check for food here, but nope. Makes me wonder if she’s still alive.

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