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swampstew · 3 months ago

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Chapter 24: The 'Sweet' General

Smoothie’s ship sailed for two days and the tension on board was so thick you could slice it with a sword. Rowena had been an annoying shit the entire time, constantly getting out of her restraints and locked rooms, doing anything she could to piss the crew off.

Today she was back on randomly slamming all doors and drawers open and shut on the ship like a bitchy poltergeist. She sat on top of the crow’s nest letting her magic do the work as she stared off into the distance. The Witch was exhausted but she was doing her best to hold it together. Between being on constant alert and harassing the enemies, she was also manipulating the ocean current to pull the Victoria Punk to ensure Kid didn’t lose her.

“These little tantrums don’t phase us. We’re used to such things and we’ve seen way worse,” Smoothie leaned against the mast, having enlarged her size to speak to Rowena.

“You do realize that if I truly wanted, I could sink this ship and everyone in it.”

Smoothie scowled at her, “Then why haven’t you?”

“Cause then I’d be stuck in the middle of the ocean surrounded by all your dead bodies. I’m not trying to be shark food.”

The Sweet General chuckled at that, “The faster you come to terms with this, the easier it will be. Once you’re in our family, there’s no turning back. Especially someone like you being paired with Big Bro. Momma will do anything to make sure she gets to eat cake.”

“Do none of you fucking idiots realize you can just MAKE a cake whenever you want? You don’t need an entire occasion to eat it.”

“YOU’RE the idiot. It’s not just about the cake. It’s for power. Surround yourself with the best and you’ll be fortified. Our empire is a testament to that.”

“In other words I’m just a bride slave now. Forced into a marriage to work for your mother,” Rowena spat towards the deck. “I did not go through the shit I have in life just to be dragged back into servitude.”

Smoothie looked at her curiously, “How does a noble slave end up on not one but two super rookie pirate crews?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rowena sneered, “Fuck off.”

“Smoothie that’s enough,” Katakuri called from the helm, rubbing his temples.

“What? I’m just trying to get to know my future sister-in-law,” she said shrinking down to her normal statuesque size.

“Not happening!” Rowena called from above.

A group of cooks came up to the deck and addressed Katakuri, dragging a covered cart with them.

“Rowena,” the eldest Sweet General called out. The Witch peeked her head from over the crow’s nest. “Join me for some afternoon tea.”

The entire crew froze, heads slowly turning to look at Katakuri; even Smoothie’s eyes were opened in disbelief.

“Pass!”

He narrowed his magenta colored eyes.

“I. INSIST,” he boomed loudly, his tone suggested he was not above manhandling her.

A moment passed, then another. Rowena dropped through the air, landing with a crisp thud on her feet, torn cape flowing around her form. She crossed her arms, scowling at Katakuri and waited. He made his way to the main deck and using his Devil Fruit power, constructed a small shrine made of mochi around the covered cart. When he was done, he opened the door and motioned for her to go inside.

Once inside, Katakuri uncovered the cart of doughnuts, coupled with a pitcher of tea.

“Those are obscenely large,” Rowena commented. He ignored her, taking a seat on the mochi chair he created.

“Do you take your tea with sugar?”

“Three cubes and a slice of lemon.”

“I dislike citrus.”

“Oh no our union is in jeopardy,” she rolled her eyes.

He sighed, “I want to speak with you on that. We have privacy here to air our opinions.”

Pulling her wand from her holster, she waved it around the perimeter of the shrine as she walked around. “Yeah I don’t trust you.”

“What are you doing?”

“Putting up a sound barrier to my standards and preferences.” She walked back to the door, humming in approval. Only then did she turn to look at him, lowering herself to the floor, warily eyeing the pitcher.

“It’s not poisoned.”

He went to grab cups when he realized there was only one. Rowena stowed her wand away and opened her waist bag, reaching her hand down until half her forearm was inside. She finally pulled out a rose gold cup. He watched with a cocked eyebrow and prepared their cups.

She took a sip and then another.

“Doughnut?”

She silently shrugged but her stomach answered for her, growling loudly. He took one in his hands and broke off a large chunk for her. She broke off a small piece and popped it in her mouth. A look came over her face and she stared at the chunk before eating it with some enthusiasm. She immediately accepted the second chunk he offered her.

“You’re not eating?”

“I want to discuss business first.”

“Good straight to the point. Fuck your mom’s wedding cake. I’m spoken for.”

“Don’t be crass. I agree, I don’t want this anymore than you do.”

“Ok so what are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t betray Momma; I must see this through. However, if something happened to you between now and then, then I suppose sometimes these things just happen.”

…

Rowena began gagging and threw the doughnut chunk at him, bouncing it off his chest.

“YOU POISONED THE DOUGHNUTS YOU SICK FUCK!”

He stared blankly at her, his scarf covering up the twitch of an amused smirk.

“The doughnuts are not poisoned. I can assure you, I would never do that to my favorite food.”

She stared coldly at him, hands on her stomach waiting for a torturous end that would never come.

“I was thinking more along the lines of you being rescued in some manner. I expect your fiancé is already within range of us, if not lagging a little behind but he is coming.”

“And what, you would just hand me over? Or do I have to fight through your people because I will not be generous to them and I will lash out.”

“I can’t just hand you over, that would mean my own execution. If his ship intercepts us at sea or even on one of the outer islands, I wouldn’t fight nearly as hard to retain you. It would need to look real to avoid rousing suspicion. If we sail straight to Smoothie’s island that could be the place to stage it, it’s on the outer edges of the territory.”

“I don’t want the Kid Pirates fighting any of you. I want their safety guaranteed.”

He rubbed his temples, “You’ll have to fight on your own then.”

“Against how many?”

“Too many. It would be convenient if he intercepts us before we dock.”

“Hmm, it’s doable. I need to get ahold of them. Do you have a safe line to call from?”

“Not here.”

“I see. I have another way but it will take time. How long until we reach your sister’s island?”

“About 2 days.”

“Ok I can probably work with that. So what I’m hearing is: I need to get them to save me before we reach land, and I need to fight your soldiers in order to make my own escape. What will you do on your end?”

“I’ll make sure our course is set to 100% Island to set the plan in motion. I think sinking a ship or two might stall us enough but it would be a short window. Do you have a way to hasten escape?”

“Yes, and a five-to-ten-minute window would be more than enough time to put it into effect. Extra support on delaying your soldiers for longer would be nice. I’m also going to need some rest before we execute any of this I’m too…tired right now.”

“You can stay in this shrine for the remainder of the trip. I do use it during certain periods but just face a wall and do what you must.”

“How do I know this isn’t a trap to kill them all?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to put your faith in me.”

“Not good enough. I’ve recently learned just how far I’ll go when confronted with someone who’s betrayed me. You don’t want to see that side of me.”

Rowena’s thoughts flashed to the night she helped Kid torture Jaime. How good it made her feel when she tore into his frail body, allowing years of pent up rage to take over her entirely.

They stared at each other for a few minutes.

“Ok fine, then tell me: what do you feel most strongly – love for your mother, or fear of her?”

His eyes widened and his frame tensed, subconsciously leaning backwards a few degrees before he straightened up and shot her a glare.

“I see. Fine, we have a deal.”

“Just like that?”

“You’re not that hard to read. I’m going to start preparing, I’ll face a wall so you can eat in private,” she walked to a corner and sat down. “If those doughnuts were poisoned and I die, I will haunt you forever. If you think I’m annoying now, oooohh buddy you don’t even know.”

“One thing.”

Rowena whipped her head to look at him.

“I need you to keep your eyes covered. Don’t look at me.”

“My eyes will be closed already.”

“It’s a trust exercise.”

“Ugh fine but don’t be weird about it,” She turned back around and began to meditate, preparing to astral project. “Try not to disrupt me during this process.”

He waited a moment before walking to the corner, standing directly behind her and very delicately, he began to uncover his head. He draped the scarf over her face, making sure her eyes were concealed entirely.

“I’ll take this off when I’m done.”

“Shhhh!”

He sat back and watched her for several minutes before finally getting relaxed and eating his doughnuts. Katakuri kept his normal dialogue in his head as he tried to enjoy his merienda as if it was just a normal day.

----

“I thought you said you were going to call before the next projection?” Sétanta inquired as her consciousness found him.

“Emergency situation. I’m being held hostage and I need to reach my group.”

“Do you need me to fight?”

“I need your magic fire and I need you to stand by and keep my body safe. I should be ok for now, but I’m surrounded by enemies.”

“I see. Follow my lead and I’ll just slip into your body. What’s that smell?”

“Doughnuts.”

----

Kid was pacing around his cabin. He had not slept since Rowena had been taken and Killer had finally forced him into the bed to get rest.

‘When we find them you need to be ready to fight for her. You can’t do that at this rate if you don’t get rest. Go, do it for her.’

But he couldn’t rest, he could only panic. He faltered in step for a moment, shaking his head. He could have sworn he heard his name being called. He looked around the room and then sat down on the bed.

Now I’m hearing things. Ok I really need to sleep.

He closed his eyes, his ears straining. Then he heard it again. It was faint but he could hear Rowena’s voice calling out to him. He shot up, rushing towards the source. Her vanity mirror was shattered and her transponder snail was down.

“Kiiiiiiid!”

He hesitantly reaching out and pulled the shroud off the crystal ball, blinking in bewilderment as he saw two lavender eyes staring back at him from the orb.

“Rowena?”

“Kid! Good I’m glad you heard me. I’m ok but things are getting dire here. Have you found the ship yet?”

“Hold on,” he ran to the door and roared out for Killer. The masked man came barreling in, following Kid to the vanity.

“We fixed the damage to the ship and we’ve been following the pull of the current.”

“Yes! Ok good, keep following the pull but you need to get me before we land or I don’t think we’ll get out of this one.”

“No we wouldn’t stand a chance!” Killer responded.

“What’s going on Ro’?” Kid gritted his teeth.

“Big Mom wants to put me in her crew and I don’t think we can stop her if we make it to her territory. If you can get close enough to the ship I can make a break for it and use Titanic Push to give us a head start to escape. I’ll need long distance support; do you have any more of the magnet cannon balls?”

“We have a few, but do you think you can get away? How many are on board?”

“There’s quite a few here but if I can get some rest and focus on sinking the ships instead of fighting them one on one I can maybe pull it off. It will conserve the most energy so I can do this but it’s going to be a lot. It’s really risky. I might have some back up here but I don’t want to rely on it in case that goes south. No matter what, you have to keep your ship distanced from them – this needs to be strictly escaping not the beginning of a war.”

“I can’t do that Rowena,” Kid argued snappishly. “I’m coming to get you and no one will stop me, not even Charlotte Katakuri.”

“STOP KID!” She was harsh. “Katakuri is my back up here. I’ll explain when I’m back with you but this is the only shot we’ve got.”

“WE CAN’T TRUST HIM ARE YOU INSANE?!” he screamed in disbelief.

“Kid,” Killer broached. “If Katakuri is offering help, then there’s only two options. It’s a trap or legitimate help. We should seriously consider this. What are his motives? What does he gain from letting her go and incurring Big Mom’s wrath?”

“He said he must follow his orders which are to take me to Whole Cake Island to meet Big Mom. They plan to dock at 100% Island to prepare me for an audience with her first. If you can get to me before then, I really think we can make it out. Katakuri said if there’s a chance for me to run, he won’t put up much of a fight but just enough otherwise he’ll be seen as a traitor.”

“So you’re telling me he’s betraying orders? That doesn’t make any fucking sense!”

“Please trust me Kid.”

“I..I do! But I don’t trust him.”

“It’s a fragile alliance but it’s all I’ve got. This is our best chance; it keeps you all shielded from them and I get a small window to prepare Titanic Push for the edge.”

“What is the situation?! I won’t agree to this until you tell me what’s going on!” He snarled at her. There was silence on her end as she stared at him from the orb. Her eyes looked miserable.

“Big Mom is forcing an arranged marriage between me and Katakuri to strengthen her army.”

The silence was heavy.

Stifling.

Killer had to shake Kid to bring him back from the disassociation that took hold of him, vaguely aware Rowena was trying to speak to him.

“Katakuri doesn’t want this either and that’s all the reason I need to give him a shred of my trust. If it is a trap, then it’s for all of you - don’t you dare come for me, Kid. Swear to me you will let me handle this and you will support me.”

“You can’t expect me to not fight for you,” he spoke shakily.

“It’s a 50/50 chance, I don’t know which outcome we’re gonna get here, Kid. Rowena do you have a plan in place, is there a signal if things go wrong?”

“My plan is to bring this ship down with the ocean, just inside the territory. He won’t want his sister dying over this so I think he’ll want to wait until we’re a reasonable distance from land. That said, I need to be able to see your ship to transmute to it. I have a one-mile radius where I can travel in an instant. If I can launch the attack and fend them off while you come in range, I can travel immediately. If you can launch projectiles to keep them distracted once I’m back on the Victoria Punk, I can prepare myself for our escape. If it’s a trap, I’ll call down some lightning – three flashes.”

“I don’t care if it’s a trap,” Kid’s voice was strained, pleading almost. “Rowena, I need to save—"

“It’s not just about you and me anymore. It’s about your crew’s lives, Killer’s life. I won’t forgive you if you don’t place value on their lives. Is that the kind of Captain you are??”

He was silent.

“If they don’t slaughter you all, then you’ll be forced into her servitude too. Could you tolerate being her subordinate and me being married off, forced to accept it?”

“No.”

“Kid, I believe in me. I believe in you too.”

Killer looked at Kid, nodding in agreement of Rowena’s words. He placed a hand on his friend’s trembling back.

“Fine,” Kid growled angrily. “How much longer?”

“About 2 days. I need to recall some of my energy to rest but I can still give you a nudge. The speed is now on you. I’m not sure I’ll have another opportunity to speak with you before this goes down. I…I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. Get your rest, this all rides on you.”

“Kid? The second we find a place to hide, we’re getting married immediately.”

He grunted, “Obviously. I love you Ro’, be careful.”

“I love you too,” her eyes lingered for a moment staring intently into his, and then she faded. He covered the orb, slumping forward.

“Rest sounds like a good idea, you should get in bed.”

“How the fuck can I sleep now?”

“You know she’s ok right now, and there’s a plan in place. Now we wait. You won’t be any good to her if you’re not at your sharpest.”

“Killer, if I lose her like we lost…” Kid faltered as tears slipped past his eyelashes. “I will lose my goddamn mind.”

“I know Kid. We all will.”

----

Rowena came back into her body, on the cusp of exhaustion. She took several calming breaths; being so close yet so far from Kid made her want to weep. Fear was coursing through her veins. Clearing her throat, she kept her eyes closed and called out.

“I’m done.” Silence. “Katakuri?”

She didn’t hear anything. Bringing her hands to her face, she realized the covering was off but something felt off. She could sense him nearby.

Gingerly she stood, fingers tracing along the wall to keep her steady. She kept her eyes shut as she turned and started shuffling towards the direction of his aura that she could vaguely see through her eyelids. It was a dull magenta color, which made the ends of her lip turn upwards. Cute. Rowena reached out with her feet and hands, trying to feel for him. Her right foot touched something solid and she traced along the side, pressing her shoe firmly into the mass.

“That’s my hip,” he grunted from somewhere below her.

“Well, you didn’t answer!”

“I was resting.”

“Can I open my eyes?”

She felt him shift on the floor.

“Yes.”

She slowly opened them, squinting as her vision adjusted. The room was surprisingly dark. She closed her eyes again and held out her palms. Two flames came alive in her palms and she let them float into the air, lighting the room up. She sat down on the floor in front of him.

“Did you get it done?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Your discretion with keeping your eyes closed for my benefit is appreciated.”

“Oh. Uh, you’re welcome.” Silence between them. “So why are you disobeying a direct order?”

He somehow became more tense than before, “I have my reasons.”

“I passed your trust exercise. It’s my turn.”

Sighing, “Momma’s word is law. Disobeying means death, even for her children. My little sister has a target on her back now, for running away from her arranged marriage. If I back out, then she’ll kill me on the spot. That’s why arranging your rescue is better for me in almost every way. It won’t be a good look overall but I’d rather have my life. I’ll kill anyone who challenges me over that.”

“That’s valid. Damn, no choice huh? Been through that a few times,” she muttered.

“How did you escape slavery?”

A small smile crept on her lips, “I was rescued.”

“Seems like luck is on your side. Let’s hope it lasts.”

“I’ll be fine if I can sleep.” He used his Devil Fruit power to make a small bed in the corner she had astral projected from. “Thanks. So everything rides on this allegiance. What happens if things go wrong?”

“I suspect they won’t if we sell it. However if we fail, I won’t be a monster of a husband towards you. I simply don’t want that part of my life managed by anyone other than me. It’s all about expansion and control. The more people caught in that entanglement, the more that become at risk unnecessarily. I don’t want that.”

Rowena looked him over for a moment before nodding, “How are we going to get by the next two days? Can I just stay holed up in here the entire time?”

His brows furrowed, “For the most part yes, but stop antagonizing the crew with your antics. Show up for meals too so it doesn’t look too suspicious.”

“So SELL IT, sell it.”

“Yes.”

“Gotcha, I can probably do that…Kata-chan,” she fluttered her eyelashes, which made him blush.

“I’m leaving. Goodnight!” he rose sharply and walked out. The sound of Rowena’s cackling echoed in the mochi shrine and in his ears.

𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧

Two days came and went quickly and Rowena made good on her word to sell her acceptance of her new marriage arrangement. Katakuri told her to stick by him for the remainder of the trip whenever she left the shrine and she illusioned off her engagement ring.

When Smoothie asked her about her necklace, Rowena had answered that it was her last remaining family heirloom after the slaughter on her island. The Sweet Generals had both looked at her with somber expressions when she told them of her first death.

Smoothie had tried to pry into her life more and Rowena stonewalled her. The Witch quickly grew irate of the constant questions and began telling her captor the horrors of being sexually assaulted on Thriller Bark. That made the giant woman stop questioning her all together for the remainder of the trip.

For a while Katakuri was uncomfortable around Rowena before finally whispering to her, “I would never do that, just so you know.”

By staying at Katakuri’s side, everyone left her alone completely and she was able to finally relax and get decent sleep. His silent companionship was comfortable and she felt less nervous about the plan. He even made light conversation that was marginally pleasant.

As they sailed that day, they stood on the rear deck looking out to the horizon under a twilight sky. “It’s a beautiful sight,” he commented.

“Yeah, would be a real shame to never see it again.”

“That won’t happen. It’s almost time.”

“Big Bro, we’re about to dock!” Smoothie called out.

Katakuri put a massive hand on her shoulder as they walked towards the main deck. He squeezed her shoulder with his forefinger and she looked at him; he tilted his head slightly back. She turned her head, out on the horizon there was a ship in the distance. She reached her hand to tap at his hand, smiling to herself. She gave some more power to the ocean’s pull on Kid’s ship.

“Just get my sister off ship before you start,” he said quietly. She tapped his hand again.

Smoothie looked up at them when they joined her. She was in a good mood and she smiled at them and their awkward but cute stance. Their height difference was hilarious to her.

“We’ll have to take you shopping first, I don’t own anything that will fit you.”

“I’m fond of sweetheart dresses and boot heels. I do my own hair and makeup though. Kata-chan, do you have a favorite color?” She looked at him.

His eyes grew wide and he coughed, “I like pink.”

Rowena smiled, “Me too.”

They were about two miles from the dock. Almost there. The snail transponder starting ringing. Smoothie frowned, picking it up.

“General, what is your position?”

“Big Bro Peros, we haven’t landed yet but we’re in range of my island. Did we trigger the alarms?”

“Yes we got the alert when you crossed the territory threshold but another one just went off. You’re the closest ship right now and we’re sending out tarte ships to support you.”

“We have direct orders from Momma to get to her as soon as possible. We need to dock and move on.”

“Kukuku oh that’s right. Katakuri caught a big fish right?”

The elder Sweet General spoke up, “She’s not a fish Perospero.”

“I look forward to meeting her. Ok I’ll tell the tarte ships to handle it.” The line went dead.

“I’m a Water Witch, for what it’s worth.” The siblings looked at her in confusion. “Because he called me a fish…”

“Brother if it’s that redhaired rookie I want payback for my injury!”

“No Smoothie, we have orders.”

She tsked at that, “Your former fiancé is a moron.”

Rowena’s face looked down and she gritted her teeth.

“Smoothie enough you’re upsetting her!” Katakuri snapped, squeezing the Witch’s shoulder and holding the pressure. Rowena looked up and she could see the shore clearly. The dock was almost within range. She held her breath and squeezed his hand, matching his pressure. She gave the ocean current another hard pull, and she heard cannon fire start to go off.

The giant woman turned around to face the land, scowling. After several minutes and the sound of cannons firing, Katakuri finally released her shoulder and gave her a short nod. Rowena dropped her hand and began to walk towards Smoothie.

“Let’s go Big Sis,” she grabbed the giant woman’s arm and they were gone. The two women dropped down hastily on the dock. Smoothie fell forward, sprawled down on the deck reeling from the fast travel. Not wasting a moment, Rowena transmuted back to Katakuri’s side.

“Ok Kata-chan, she’s safe.”

The crew were all looking around trying to understand what had just happened, confusion and agitation swelling rapidly.

“Start with the dock to keep her from jumping back up and then begin your assault. Hold it out for as long as you can until you can escape,” He muttered quietly.

“Sea Serpent!” Holding out her hand, she waved it in a fluid motion before bringing it up right sharply. They heard Smoothie yelp as a strong jet stream of water broke through the wooden dock and started wrecking it, forcing the Sweet General to run off as it began to collapse. The crew ran to the railings calling out for her.

Rowena turned to face him and Katakuri froze as the petite woman wrapped her arms around his leg as much as her reach allowed.

“Good luck, Kata-chan. I hope you get to choose your own spouse someday. You seem like a decent dude,” she spoke sincerely as she looked at him.

He smiled at that, his scarf hiding his emotion, and patted the top of her head. “Good luck to you as well, Rowena.”

She released his leg and cracked her fingers, “Anyways, here’s Waterfall.”

Rowena brought her hands up in an overarm loop and squared her feet. She repeated the arm motions and the water surrounding the ship began to rise blocking their view at all angles. With a drop of her arms, the seawater flooded the ship, washing away half the troops off the ship. The rest were swept off their feet, weapons and soldiers slumped around the wooden deck in shock. Katakuri was weakened from the water and he began to slump forward but Rowena staggered under him, whipping up small torpedo vortexes to push him back on his heels.

She pushed on making him walk backwards as she kept his body upright with the power of wind, using him as a giant meat shield. She reached the rear deck as the soldiers were stirring. She pressed the General up to the rear wall to steady him as she started waving her arms in more smooth motions. She looked out to the sea, the Victoria Punk was closing the distance. They were about two and a half miles out, and two tarte ships were smoldering and sinking in the distance with more coming.

“C’mooooon Kraken!” She snaked her arms in arcs and called up arms of water from the sea, and with sharp thrusts of her arms she began striking into the hull of the ship creating giant holes.

Smoothie’s ship was quickly sinking and Katakuri was still leaning on the wall. Rowena used her capoeira fighting style to fling and kick troops over the rail. She rushed back to Katakuri’s side after the last wave of water punctured the ship.

“How are you getting off? Theres about half a mile of distance to the shore.”

“Hmm that is problematic.”

“I can transport you if need be.”

“That’ll work. Make a fake escape and I’ll use my mochi to grab on to you. Transport me to the shore, drop me and then get gone.”

“Come and get me Kata-chan!” she called out cheekily as she ran towards the bow of the deck, dodging attacks from the remaining soldiers.

Rowena could hear him stomping down the ship as she voided the illusion spell on her engagement ring. Running portside she hopped up on the rail and made a dive towards the ocean. Katakuri’s mochi arm grabbed her. She put her hands on his hardened grip and transmuted them to the edge of the shoreline.

Dropping him in the active coastal zone, his step faltered backwards as he struggled to keep himself upright but she held on to his mochi appendage keeping him stable. When he found his footing, she whipped up a stream of water and hit the arm, causing his mochi to melt away. Rowena grinned at him, blew him a kiss, and she was gone.

She landed on the crow’s nest of Smoothie’s sinking ship and with a running leap vanished again. She dropped on to the dinosaur skull of the Victoria Punk and jumped down to the main deck. Sprinting into Kid’s embrace with tears running down her face as she inhaled his scent, burying her face into his chest. The sound of cannon fire intensified; the fight wasn’t over.

----

“Big Brother!” Smoothie yelled racing to Katakuri. He didn’t acknowledge her, staring at the Kid Pirates ship as the Witch landed on its figurehead.

“You apparently inspired a final ‘fuck you’ tantrum and she actually got off ship. Good luck explaining that to Momma.”

“WHAT?! You’re joking! Momma’s going to kill me!”

“It’s too bad, we would have made a strong pairing. Unfortunately, she is also my perfect counter.”

“We can get her back, let’s find another port and we can set sail immediately.”

“No thanks. The age gap made me feel creepy to be honest.”

----

Cannon balls flew in the air but Kid repelled them all as Rowena sobbed into his chest.

“Hey, you’ve got a job to do. Let’s get this done so we can finally rest.”

She nodded at him and leapt up, kicking her feet wildly in the air to generate some levitation, reaching him and kissing him passionately. He moaned in their kiss but then brought her down. She nodded and ran to the railing and he followed her. He called out for Killer to turn around as his own ship’s cannons went off. Four more ships were in range now.

Rowena shut her eyes and held out her hands in front of her, calling out for the crew to stay close to something they could grab on to and the order was repeated across the ship. Moving her arms in a swaying motion, she started flexing her hands, swaying them sideways and then forwards to back. The ship was fully turned now and came to a standstill as Rowena kept up her swaying motions. Kid was busy using the modified cannon balls to keep the other ships at bay.

Opening her eyes, the familiar white glow caught his attention and he alerted the crew to get ready. Squaring her feet on the floor she closed her fist and pulled it back; the current began to pull them back as a massive wave began to grow.

She punched it out with a cry, “Titanic Push!”

The wave reached its crest, pulling the Victoria Punk up two hundred meters. The Kid Pirates braced themselves and Kid came barreling down towards Rowena. As the ship teetered on the crest and began to fall forward, Kid used his power to chain them together to the railing as the ship thrusted forward at top speed. Her arms snaked around his waist holding him tightly and she sighed against him, feeling safe for the first time in days.

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#eustass kid #eustass kid x rowena #what's the magic word?#eustasscaptainkid #one piece fanfiction #one piece #kid pirates #eustass kid x oc #firstmatesimp #rowena the witch #ao3 writer #eustass captain kid #raven's reading nook #ao3 fanfic #ao3 works

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jodilin65 · 11 years ago

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SUNDAY, MARCH 31, 2013 It’s raining fast and furiously out there now. And of course, it has to do it at night when no one would be out hammering, sawing and running around on motorcycles or ATVs. We had some mild thunder and lightning earlier, too.

Yesterday’s outing was fun. I got my usual sirloin tips, eggs and pancakes at the IHOP, compliments of Tammy and Mark, and Tom got his usual ham and cheese omelet. It all came to $30. So did our can/bottle refund. The GC they sent paid for $25 of our breakfast. This was at 6:00 in the morning before the screaming little kiddies were out and about. We also wanted to get to Walmart after the isles weren’t so jammed up with boxes, but before the crowds hit there, too.

I couldn’t resist trying Revlon’s new nail art, Moon Candy. I thought it was a two-in-one lipstick at first till I realized it was for nails. It comes in a long tube. One end is the base color, the other is the glitter overcoat.

So we ended up having a little fun there, though only a third of the $200 we spent went to fun stuff. I love all the different soft, furry, colorful throw rugs and pillows they have, but I never really had any use for them.

While we’ve been doing quite well with not shopping our money away, living paycheck to paycheck like we used to, and buying tons of crap on credit, Walmart and Raley’s are the two stores we don’t hold back in. We easily spend $500 - $600 on groceries a month. It’s not so much because we’re getting a ton of stuff so much as it’s because we buy a lot of expensive items, especially me. Crab cakes, butterfly shrimp, cooked foods, gourmet sweets… I love to eat and I love the variety, so as usual, I woke up today choosing food over hunger, accepting the fact that I will always be heavy because of it. Someday I will probably be ghastly obese.

Since I can’t bring myself to diet hard enough and consistently enough to lose weight (which would only come right back) I’m trying to stay within the same 5-pound range depending on where I am in my cycle. I tend to gain 1-2 pounds of water and 3-4 in fat due to how hungry I am the week before periods. I dropped 2 pounds and will have the next 3 weeks to lose the remaining 3 pounds.

I also got a fleece-covered memory foam mask to try out when I’m on nights and needing to sleep with the window open. My silk one’s strap is getting a bit worn out.

I had to sample perfume, as always. Curves on my left arm, Lucky You on the right.

A while back I said I got Maybelline’s Whisper lipstick in One Pearl Fits All, and while I loved the moistness of it since it’s a gel-based lipstick, I found the color to be too light. It was barely visible. So I looked at all their colors online and got the Mad for Magenta I thought I would like best and it does. It’s the perfect shade that’s not too light, bright or dark.

When we were getting a new bag of bedding for the rats, I found a cute stuffed white rat with pink eyes, ears, feet and a tail in the cat section. Tom started to point out that the rats would only chew it up and destroy it in no time, but I wanted it for myself. They don’t make stuffed ratties for humans, so the cat section is one’s only hope for rats and mice.

A fun toy for rats is empty boxes they can have fun tearing up and nesting in, as well as things made of wood and metal. They can, however, even manage to chew through some types of metal.

I think that’s all the fun stuff we got, though we also stocked up on a lot of non-edibles like lotion, toilet paper and air freshener. For the first time in my life, I was glad to wear glasses when I accidentally sprayed Glade’s Starlit Evening, which I wanted to try, right in my face. That would’ve really stung like hell. Somehow I can see Andy, laughing, shaking his head and saying, “You dummy.”

Later…

Still raining long, hard and steady. I love the sound of the rain on the tin roof, which is one of the few things I’ll miss about this place.

Yesterday turned from fun to funny when Tom returned from the bank. After we returned with the groceries, he left me here and went out to pick up the mail and go to the bank to get what will hopefully be the last full payment for the Jes pest. Because the ATM limits how much you can withdraw, he decided to go inside and just deal with whatever sales pitch they wanted to throw at him. Instead of a sales pitch, the woman said, “You know, you’ve really got an awful lot of money in your account.” We currently have a savings and a checking account and most of our money is in savings. Pointing out the dangers of being ripped off should someone steal our debit cards, she suggested opening additional savings and checking accounts free of charge so we could scatter the money.

Tom mentioned that we’re thinking of buying a house without getting too into the subject and hit with all kinds of offers and suggestions there, too.

So I’m laughing my ass off while he’s telling me that he told her the money comes in faster than we can spend it since all he does is work, but he didn’t mention the inheritance that everyone but myself thinks I’ll still get. Then again, maybe I will. After all, the rich get richer while the poor get poorer. LOL, I hate to say it but it’s true.

She asked how we budget our money (I guess they have plans for that, too), and he shrugged and said, “When I want something I buy it.”

I was laughing so hard by this time. “Did you tell her less than a couple of years ago we were so broke we nearly killed ourselves so we wouldn’t starve on the streets?” I joked, even though it was NO joking matter at the time. It was downright stressful and even terrifying. Sometimes it really does take disaster to get one to smarten up with their money and SAVE! Buy cosmetics and stuffed rats instead of $300 dolls, and beware of Gillian O’Malley’s intimates. They make their sizes too big. Hell, my ass is swimming in a size small.

What was so funny about the whole thing is that we never thought anyone would ever suggest we protect our money by scattering it. We’ve made good money before; we just weren’t smart about it. We also didn’t expect to be alive beyond the first of October 2011, so it makes being told to scatter the money even funnier and more special. I just really hope we do get to spend it real soon on a new house!

As I wrote not too long ago, I had a dream Tom got a promotion that led him to second shift and a raise, but it never happened. We wondered if maybe I was just having a weak spell. It happens to all psychics no matter what kind of psychic they may be. Then Tom learned that although it’s temporary, they plan to add a third shift at work. Hmm… I wonder if the dream of him telling me he got the job and kissing me goodbye on his way to work when it was dark out could mean they’ll put him on graves for a while. They are going to give him a raise after all, though, and ironically that will be in April.

I will cover last night’s dreams in another post, one of which may mean something good. :)

I’m returning the favor and fucking with Maliheh’s head just like she did with mine. I told her I got her friend add, sure to emphasize the fact that it’s about time she added me, cuz hey, we are friends, right? But then I said that when I clicked on it, it disappeared.

Later…

Bourbon Pecan Pralines ice cream rocks! Just had to say so before getting into last night’s dreams.

In one of last night’s dreams, I was sitting in a restaurant discussing the “final application” to the park we want to get into, and how I was nervous in an excited kind of way. But I swear the people I was discussing it with were the late Jim Rome and Al Mandell. Something about going just past a yellow house with green trim, too. Is that where our future house is supposed to be?

In the next dream, I had a psychic reading done by this guy who reads palms, does tarot cards, and things like that which I’m not sure I really believe in. But what could it hurt at just 7 bucks? Or so I thought. It turns out I misunderstood the guy when he stated the cost. The reading was really $107 and must be paid in cash. All I had on me, though, was a 10-dollar bill.

I started getting a little nervous and looked around the dimly lit room. The guy who did the reading and almost all of the talking sat behind a desk smoking. Another guy stood leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of him. He smiled when I glanced his way, though the smile wasn’t genuine. The desk guy then told me they were affiliated with the mafia.

“Oh, yeah?” I said, trying to appear calm.

He nodded, took a long drag off his cigarette, and said, “That means we will get our money.”

I said I couldn’t get the money for a few days, and the guy said he was going to have his buddy follow me home to see where I lived in case I didn’t pay up in a few days like I said I would. So I went along with it, feeling I didn’t have much choice, and let the car slowly follow me as I walked down a sidewalk in a residential area. I scanned the houses for which one I should pretend was mine and decided on one with no car in its carport. I walked up to the side door and made like I was pulling my keys out of my purse, then smiled and waved at the guy in the car. Once he was out of sight, I ran to where I really lived.

The last dream I remember was rather sad. I was staying with a large wealthy family. No one forced me to be there, but I don’t know why I was there in the first place. They were paying me a fortune to do who knew what. After a few days – a week at the most – I felt a heavy sadness over how much I missed Tom. I ran to the little guesthouse I lived in after chatting with guests in the main house who had come for someone’s wedding who had gotten married on the grounds somewhere.

Suddenly, I knew I could no longer stay there. I just had to get home to Tom. Yet when I pulled out my cell I couldn’t remember the number to call him! Nor was it stored in the phone anywhere. A laptop sat on a small table and I went to see if I could send him an email but couldn’t get online. I began to panic at the thought of never being able to reach Tom and him thinking I’d forgotten him and actually liked my new life living with these rich people.

SATURDAY, MARCH 30, 2013 I should write down the series of strange dreams I had before I forget them. They’re just bits and pieces of senseless things, but I always thought it was neat to be able to look back upon dreams from years ago. Even fragments of dreams could hold meaning in them one can’t see at the time.

In the first fragment, I was part of a group home similar to what Molly’s in. At least I think it was supposed to be for the mentally fucked in the head. Anyway, I was in some field with a dozen or so others. Half a dozen of them were fellow group homies. The other half were staffers, but the “staffers” were a mix of former Valleyhead staff and detention officers from jail. One was “Teddy Bear,” the DO I liked that liked me back. The field had a grassy section. Someone asked why there was more grass there than other areas which were predominantly patches of dirt.

“Probably because the ground forms a bit of a dip in this section and is able to hold more rainwater,” I said, half hoping to impress Teddy Bear with my answer. Then I asked her if I were fat and she nodded.

Then I realized I had ballet slippers on and did some amazing spins I could never do in real life. One of the residents commented on it and I said, “Here, I’ll do a whole routine.”

Next thing I know I’m waking up from a nap. I’m in back of the group home on the top of the steps leading to the kitchen. Surprised to see that it was dark out, and hoping there were no bugs crawling on me, I groggily pulled myself up and stepped into the lighted kitchen. No one was there and I felt kind of hurt that no one saved me any dinner. I considered washing all the dishes that were piled up in the sink but then thought better of it.

I turned and headed back outside. Next thing I know it’s light again and I’m where a main road and a side street form a T. I had to get home to my parents’ house and started to turn down the side street until I realized that was silly. All I had to do was follow the main road a few blocks, turn right and there they would be. The house was on the corner. When I passed by our neighbor I thought it rude of the adults that lived there to allow their kids to keep their toys on the sidewalk. There was even a “cage” of sorts for the kids to play ball in without smashing windows or hitting cars.

I rounded the corner and climbed a series of cement steps, finding it weird that they led to a window and not a door. But when I saw that the window was open, I climbed in and was then inside an empty bedroom (mine?). I heard my mom talking on the phone in her bedroom next to this one and walked into the room. I kept hoping she’d notice me, put the phone down and want to chat. When she didn’t, I walked down a hall and into the living room where I noticed the front door was open. I thought that Dad must’ve stepped outside for a minute, and then woke up.

This isn’t the first dream I’ve had where they were still alive.

FRIDAY, MARCH 29, 2013 Death has been on my mind a lot what with so many people dying lately. I once wished both my siblings dead so bad that’s how pissed I was at them a while back. And now one is and one may not live more than 5-10 years. But the more I think about it, the more I am sure that I didn’t influence the situation at all. There’s been too much of a delay. Besides, my parents would have died a lot sooner than they did if my anger could actually influence death. A lot of people would be dead right now because of me if my getting intensely angry could kill. So I would say that no, my getting pissed off in 2000 and then again in 2010 had nothing to do with Tammy’s illness.

But death is still on my mind, my parents’ death, my brother, my foster mother, and then how Tom and I nearly killed ourselves to escape death by poverty.

Tom researched lung transplants some more and found that they only take what’s called lobes from live people and not a full lung. So that’s why they prefer the donor to be dying. That way they can take a whole lung or even both lungs.

I don’t know what to think at this time. Things could take a fast turn for the worst and she could need the transplant within a year only to have it not take, or she could not need it for 5 years and end up with a successful transplant. Or maybe it will be a severe infection that ends up killing her since her immune system is shot as well.

This is pure speculation but right now I think we’re going to go 50s, 60s, 70s, and 80s. Larry died in his 50s, my parents in their 80s, and I wonder if Tammy will die in her 60s and me in my 70s. Unless God decides to have me killed in some way I don’t suspect, 70s makes sense if Tom were to live a normal lifespan. Most people make it to their 80s and he’s almost a decade older than me. I always knew I would kill myself the day he died if he died first, so 70s kind of makes sense.

If that’s true, imagine what my parents would’ve thought if they could know decades ago that none of their kids would outlive them. Assholes or not, I’m sure they wouldn’t have been happy to know that. They beat their own parents by 5 years.

Although I know I would definitely want to, I would have to kill myself if Tom died before retirement because I wouldn’t be able to make a living that would sustain me. After retirement, I could technically live as long as I was close enough to buses, though I still wouldn’t want to. Back when I lived alone when I was young; that was different. That was new, that was fun, that was adventurous, and cursed or not, I loved my independence and had my whole life ahead of me. Living alone as an old lady would be a whole different story.

Wish I knew if those who claimed to end up in hell after attempting suicide are for real or just saying that to deter others from trying it. Oh well. God has always had a deep hatred for me, so maybe He’ll send me to hell even if I don’t kill myself someday.

Time to get some proofreading done till the Jes pest starts his daily racket. Tom thinks it’s perfectly normal to hear your neighbors every day, even if they’re 200’ away. Oh, really? I thought it was only normal if they were just a few feet away. I guess he may have a point, though, cuz even though I can’t believe Jesse can hear us from inside his house like we can hear him from inside here, he should easily be able to hear my music when it’s blasting when he’s outside. Probably even the treadmill.

THURSDAY, MARCH 28, 2013 Although it was pretty much what I already knew or at least figured, Tammy was kind enough to leave me another message. Poor thing sounds horrible, though. Her cough sounds worse than the one I had when I had that killer flu. The only thing I’m unclear on is what the probability is of her needing a lung transplant. Either way, it could take a few years as the donor needs to be on their way out and the proper match for her or else her body will simply reject the new lung.

She also talked to Walter and said the same thing – in late April I can expect some money. I guess they’re still trying to sort out the mess Mom and some other guy made, no doubt with the help of God above, in order to help stall our plans even longer. But just what other hurdles may we be up against that have nothing to do with how much savings we have? I guess we’ll be finding out soon enough. If we don’t get out of here by the fall, that’s it. I give up. If something isn’t meant to be, then it’s just not meant to be. We’ll go rent some other place if we’re just going to keep being delayed from buying a place for one reason or another. I just would prefer not to live with our landlord.

Yesterday morning I looked at the clock and saw it was coming up on 8am. A sense of dismay came over me to know that any minute the peace would be shattered by the Jes pest somehow. I just didn’t know if it would be with hammering, sawing or loud vehicles. This damn cock just can’t stay indoors and sit still to save his life! I wish to hell it would rain more often but the rain in these parts has become as scarce as rain in the desert. It just hardly ever rains here anymore and it’s been that way for two years now. No one should have to hear their ONE neighbor that’s hundreds of feet away every single fucking day of their lives. But I know that no matter where we go, there’ll just be some regular annoyance there, too. We’re just doomed in that department.

It’s going to be 74° here today and unfortunately, I’m on nights, which is going to make crashing at noon a bit tough. Trailers are a tough thing to live in when you have a rotating schedule and a funky cooling system. Tom’s got the thermostat running on the computer, but we may have to turn the water on the cooler soon as the fan may not be enough. I’m tired of this having to heat really early in the morning and cool during the afternoon. I just want a normal house with a normal roof and walls! Having such low ceilings doesn’t help either, since heat rises. At 7’ there isn’t much space for it to rise to in the afternoons. sighs For now I’m just going to enjoy the next 8 hours of peace till the noise starts up again. Really wish this bastard would break a leg or that something would lay him up for the next 6 weeks, but every day that it’s not over 90° or raining out, it’s out there pounding away at something or running and gunning whatever. That’s about 300 days of the year.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 27, 2013 Unfortunately, I’m in a very sad and angry frame of mind right now, and getting a bit concerned for my family’s well-being as a whole. I fear something up there is bound and determined to pick us off one by one. Let’s just say that if Tammy dies I’m going to go from concerned to downright scared.

Tammy left a message yesterday and she sounded awful. Very strained and out of breath. You could tell talking was hard for her. For the first time since having that dream last summer where Tammy died, I’m worried it may end up being an unusually delayed dream premonition. I didn’t think much of it at the time since most dreams I have that are true or are going to come true end up coming true within 12-72 hours of the dream. Occasionally it’s been months or years, but not very often. Yet it’s looking more and more likely that yes, she will indeed need a lung transplant. According to the statistics, though, 50% of those who have a lung transplant only live 5 years. It seems like an awful lot to go through for so little, but what else can she really do at this point? All the infections she had caused scarring in both lungs during the year she wasn’t treated and they were trying to make a proper diagnosis, which then caused the lungs to harden in some parts, making it very hard to get oxygen.

It just sucks that right when we finally get the past worked out and have grown close that this shit has to happen. But why? It’s hard to believe it’s a coincidence. Mom and Dad, I could see because they were old and sickly and it’s common for long-term couples to die in the same year. But then Larry died and now Tammy’s gravely ill. Does God want to kill her so He can have fun beating us over the head with money and know we’d have no one to run to for help? Is there some other family curse going on? If she doesn’t make it past the next 5 years or so I’m going to seriously wonder if I’ll make it to 60. Oh well, there’s nothing I can do about it. For a while, I wondered if I’d even make it to 30, and less than two years ago I was pretty damn sure I had more than a foot in the grave, but I’m still here. So maybe the transplant will allow her to live a full life. And maybe the death dream doesn’t mean a damn thing.

The job promotion dream didn’t mean anything cuz he didn’t get it. We’re ok with that, though, cuz it might actually be a good thing. We would’ve preferred the hours and for him to work less so he could have a bit of a life after working all these 58-hour weeks. But second shift is more at risk of layoffs, and while he would’ve made more per hour, it would’ve been less money overall due to working fewer hours. He doesn’t know yet who got the job. Let me guess… a young black guy? A foreigner?

That’s another thing. I’m tired of pretending I don’t have a problem with blacks just to keep people happy. I do. Not all of them, of course, but I have a problem with the ones who use their race as a weapon against others and as a means of getting ahead no matter who may get hurt along the way. I have a problem with the ones who use the law to screw whites that piss them off just because they can and because they know we’re living in a time when anything they say will automatically be believed no matter how untrue it may be. I have a problem with the ones who are never charged with hate crimes, who are given easier sentences than whites convicted of the same crimes, and the ones who can have their black pageants and their black this and that WITHOUT being called racists, quite unlike their white counterparts. That’s what I have a problem with. Meanwhile, if this pisses anyone off who may read this, well, that’s your problem.

Andy asked me if I searched for the pretty blond cop he told me about that walked some girls into court or something like that. I have no idea what he’s talking about. Maybe I’m the one sporting the brain tumor.

I have a lot more to write about but I think that because this entry’s getting long enough I’ll break it up into multiple posts.

Later…

I’m going to make my LJ blog a voice post blog once we get moved. I’ll only be able to make up to 5 posts a week, but it may be fun and something different than the usual text blog.

Tammy also said she was still going to try to catch Walter and find out what’s going on, but I’ve given up there. I just can’t believe the bastard above would allow my parents to abuse me, then let me profit off of them, even if it were just a few grand. Then again, a few grand could never undo what they did to me anyway. All it could do would be to help make things go a little easier and a little faster. But since God doesn’t want us getting a place of our own, of course He’s going to do all he can to stall and delay things. Then when we finally do defy Him and get what we want, I can just imagine what punishments may be in store for us, but I’m not going to let it stop me.

Another week and Tom will actually talk to the people in our favorite parks, which have the strictest criteria for getting into, and see just what we’re up against. If the hurdles aren’t worth getting over, there are still other parks that are plenty decent enough. He still wants to check out that park where the people own a percentage of it and the monthly payments are only about $400.

Been thinking about it and I would give up a lung for Tammy if I could. I still think it’s a bit much to go through for what could be so little, and I doubt I’d be a suitable candidate, but if the hospital and insurance people paid for all the expenses, I could fly there and go under the knife for her and be back home soon enough. Obviously, we have the same blood type, whatever that may be, but I’m 8” shorter, I did smoke for 18 years, and I have asthma. My asthma may be dormant, but it’s still there. It’s like with a recovering alcoholic. Just because they haven’t had a drink in a while doesn’t mean they’re not still alcoholics.

Her daughters aren’t candidates for various reasons, and Mark smokes, so he’s out of the question.

She mentioned seeing some show about a woman who has lots of rats and even sleeps with them. LOL, I’ve gotten so many people to see rats in a whole new light. Now whenever they see or hear of rats, they think of me and my furry little friends. We’ve slept with our rats in motels, but it’s not something I like to make a habit of because I’m a light sleeper and they tend to chew holes in bedding.

Romeo, Sugar, and I were all playing earlier, it’s so cute how they compete for attention like dogs and nudge each other aside so they can get under my massaging hands. Romeo really loves to burrow in the sleeve of my robe. Sugar likes to play tag, Romeo likes to use me as a secret hideaway.

Later…

My henna tats now look like old coffee stains. It was a definite waste of money, but at least now I know what it’s like.

Tom’s sleeping in this morning because he was hungry when he woke up to pee earlier and was up for a couple of hours while we discussed Tammy and other things.

I feel so bad for Amanda Knox and how they overturned her acquittal and are retrying her case in Italy. I not only believe she’s innocent but what a fucked up judicial system Italy has! I thought this country was bad. She must really hate the hell out of that country by now. I wouldn’t blame her. Other than speaking a gorgeous language, the country’s full of bigots with a joke of a legal system. They obviously don’t have Double Jeopardy, which we have here that prevents one from being tried for the same case more than once. From what Tom said he read, she doesn’t have to return to Shitaly. They can try her from home. But what makes it even weirder is that they can’t extradite her if she’s convicted again. I would just change my appearance and run.

I cringe at the thought of just how many times the corrupt cop who helped railroad me on behalf of his welfare bum buddies would have tried me over and over and over again for their little letter if they could have. OMG, I won’t even go there as far as what I’d have done to them had they tried to fuck me over a second time. Let’s just say I would’ve made a very nasty example out of them as to just what could happen to those who use and abuse the law against others in the name of power, control, and hate. But hey, they weren’t 100% invincible. The cop did lose his job after all.

TUESDAY, MARCH 26, 2013 How I wish I’d never had the great misfortune of having trolls like the Kimolly Duo latch onto me! But when you’re a heavy blogger like I am it’s bound to happen sooner or later. If it wasn’t them, it’d just be someone else.

Sometimes I’m not sure I want to bother with any Ask account at all, figuring Andy and I could share pics via email and keep in touch on Facebook. That way he could create whatever accounts he wanted and do what he wanted over there. Not that I’m condemning him or anything like that, but I thought that by now he too, would find most of the people there young, dumb, naïve, dull, and immature in every way. Lady Di is a rare gem on that site. I just thought he would’ve outgrown these sorts of people just like we outgrew prank phone calls. Some of the calls were funny, but looking back on it I see how immature it was and couldn’t imagine myself finding it a fun pastime as I once did. I really prefer to hang with more mature, stable people both on and offline, but hey, that’s just me.

I’ll go ahead and use my new account, though, but if they find us, I’m gone. I’m not going to give them the satisfaction of sticking around. I’m going to make sure my answers aren’t in the stream, but I guess it’s ok to allow for anonymous questions. Since I can’t imagine ever being able to talk Andy into disallowing anonymous questions, I hope he’ll at least keep the account he’ll use with me as secret as possible. I’m not even going to ask Lady Di anything. Those trolls must know we were friends there and I’m sure they’re watching her feed for anything that smells of us.

For blogs, I made one for friends only, one private, and left the other one just sitting there. I’ll slap Tumblr links on my FB wall for my friends there. The trolls still don’t know about that blog.

Mary is still shopping her unemployment money away, and I sometimes wonder if she has other sources of income I don’t know about. If she does, it’s none of my business, so I haven’t asked.

Why do people continue to associate with abusive parents? I just don’t get that. We encourage people to leave abusive lovers, but not their parents? Why? Just because they “gave birth to them?” Just because they’re “getting old?” Abusers are abusers! Period. Yet I hear of so many people who are adults and on their own that put up with so much shit from their evil parents.

I swear I will never ever again have surgery no matter what any doctor says. It’s scary but true to know that any surgery I’ve ever had has only worsened the situation. The only surgery I ever really needed was the one to put my arm back together. But if they had just left me the hell alone in Boston I wouldn’t have later developed problems with the bullshit frame they tried to reconstruct, and if they’d left me the hell alone in Phoenix (though they had to operate for fear of tumors they couldn’t see in X-rays and CAT scans) I wouldn’t be suffering on and off today since it turned out that all I needed was for the damn frame to be dismantled.

How did Susan Atkins get to be so damn hot? I have always been fascinated by the sick, twisted minds of the Manson family and their heinous crimes. I was browsing YouTube videos when I saw a link to a jailhouse interview she did in 1976, 7 years into her life sentence. She was 28. I always thought she was the best-looking of the Manson girls, though the most evil. But what I saw was not only an incredibly beautiful woman, but one you would never in a million years think could be the monster that she was. I could say the same thing for Leslie Van Houten’s later interviews. She just seems so damn “normal,” like she could be anybody’s mom working any job, etc. The kind that would smile and happily gab with you if you ran into her in the grocery store and offer to help you out if you needed it.

Susan was a little shorter than I usually go for, but oh what beautiful long straight brown hair she had! Love those dark, dark eyes, too. Her makeup was perfect and her skin seemed flawless. She must’ve gotten hit on like crazy in that place. She didn’t sound anything like I’d expect, though. She had a high-pitched girlie-like voice that I kind of didn’t expect from her. I expected something a bit more forceful and louder.

While she was responsible for what she did, I do buy the part where she talks about LSD making you do things you wouldn’t normally do. I totally believe that drugs can alter the mind and one’s behavior. None of them have denied being guilty and all but Charlie have expressed remorse. But are they really remorseful? I guess only they would know. The ones that are still alive, that is.

Gotta really, really wonder what the hell kind of people can marry and have kids with these people. I can’t believe it’s even legal. No criminal, especially one expected to be behind bars forever, should be allowed to bring a baby into the world. For what? So it can have to go live with someone else and then possibly deal with the shame and embarrassment of knowing who its mother was when it’s older? How selfish and thoughtless! If you want to let crazies and various fanatics marry these killers, at least don’t allow them to have sex and reproduce for God’s sake.

Later…

I’m a little late with today’s entry mostly because I’m busy catching my Tumblr blog up to date. The blog the trolls don’t know about.

Tammy said she had a doctor’s appointment in the morning and was going to talk to Walter and then call me, but I never got a call or a message on Facebook, so I’m a little concerned about her. Hopefully, she’ll be ok.

Sure wondering what’s up with Andy, too. LOL, lately he seems to be a lot more forgetful than I’ve ever known him to be. I don’t know if something’s wrong, if he’s just playing with me, or if he’s not getting all my emails, because there have been too many things lately that I know I’ve mentioned either directly or in journals yet he acts like he hasn’t heard a thing about it. Today he asked who the fuck was Kathy and I thought, you’ve got to be kidding. This is a joke, right? I swear I sent the entry to him on how she dumped me for bashing God, but email doesn’t always get delivered. In an age where communication is supposed to be easier than ever, it sure doesn’t seem that way at times when your Facebook and email messages don’t go through.

Let’s see… I have period cramps, caught Nane before she crashed, and now I have a grin on my face over the sheer frustration the trolls are going through. I admit I sometimes like fucking with them in an indirect sort of way. Like with archives that hold blog titles that they just can’t quite open. Yeah, I learned that if you set your blog to friends only, one can still access your archive on MO unless you hide the archive tab. When they click on a title nothing will happen, though. I also decided not to back up entries on LJ every day. However, I figured I’d at least throw titles on even though the body of the post is blank so all I have to do when I’m ready to bring it up to date is fill in the entries. That’s gotta have the fuckers pretty confused, too. Molly spent a whole 20 minutes today trying to figure out how to read entries on both blogs, LMAO.

Wish I could snap my fingers and jump ahead a week. That way we’ll know if he’s going to get the promotion, and we’ll have a much better idea of how hard (or easy) it may be to get into our top two favorite parks. I still don’t expect anything inheritance-wise. Like I said, if my parents weren’t much help to me alive, why should they be now that they’re dead? We’ll be fine on our own, though. What we’ll have to decide – if they say our credit isn’t good enough for our top parks – is do we want to wait until it is, or do we settle for the runner-up parks?

MONDAY, MARCH 25, 2013 Fucking Molly asked Andy a question on FS. If she contacts my friends or me again I will be contacting the group home she resides in. She’s in their custody and she’s their responsibility. So if there’s any more unwanted contact, I will have the group home remove her online privileges. Period. It’s that simple. So… the ball’s in her court.

That was really stupid of me to post my FS link in my blog. I figured that with just a few days to go there it couldn’t harm anything. Had I known she was going to contact Andy I never would’ve posted it. She said some stupid shit like, “Who is behind this account? It needs to be taken down.”

It really bothers me that after I know damn well I asked Andy numerous times before to block and ignore her that he answered her. I really think Tom’s right and that he actually likes trolls. Well, as soon as the shit starts up on our new Ask accounts I’m out of there. He finds this immature shit funny, but I have better things to do with my time.

There are actually a lot of things he says or does that I know I told him about and it makes me wonder about him. Is he ignoring me? Is something wrong with his memory? Or is he just playing games?

I deactivated my old Ask account. I’m sick of Kim’s shit as well, and I don’t want to be logging in and out of two accounts. Jumping back and forth like that would be a pain.

What they don’t know and what I won’t put online is that just to make them wonder what the hell happened to me, I’m going to stop updating MD and LJ for a while, set MO to friends only, and just share links on FB to my Tumblr blog.

Still no word at work about the promotion. Hopefully, he’ll be given a second interview. He should find out tomorrow. And I should strangle him. He just came and stunk up this room with Bengay. I never did care for that wintergreen scent. Time for some opium incense.

I’ve still been having hunger issues that just won’t quit, but I totally give up on trying to control that. I just can’t. So if I could adapt to gaining 50 pounds as I have over the last 25 years, then I’ll just have to adapt to 50 more, and another 50, and another 50…

I missed Nane by half an hour or so. She was sweet enough to wait around for me, but as I told her. I’m on nights now so I won’t be up before she crashes for about a week.

SUNDAY, MARCH 24, 2013 If all goes well, next week should be our final full rent payment. We’d have been out of here a year ago if we hadn’t changed our plans and decided to go for the gold, so to speak. Good things are worth waiting for, but I can’t wait to get out of here! It’s going to be so nice living in a place that doesn’t get so damn cold at night and hot in the daytime. It’s in the 80s in here without the cooler running yet it’s not even that hot out. It’s only in the upper 60s. I can’t wait to have a real roof and normal walls surrounding me! And a fast connection, and well, I could go on and on and on with all that I look forward to.

Looks like my henna tats, which went from piss-yellow to diarrhea brown, are starting to fade.

Although I don’t miss my parents one bit, it’s still hard at times to know I can no longer simply reach for the phone and call them. It seems like just yesterday that they were just 10 digits away.

The only good thing I can say about them was that they were liberal. They didn’t think it was wrong for a woman to decide what to do with her own body. They didn’t think it was wrong for two people of the same gender to love each other. They hated those of different races (though I never knew them to have anything against Asians and American Indians) and just about everything else under the sun, but they were otherwise surprisingly liberal. I guess part of that is due to where they were from. So maybe it’s not so surprising after all when you were born and raised in the first state to allow gay marriage.

Tom’s snoring away right now, and my nocturnal friends are playing. I can hear them loud and clear in the other room and I even wonder how Tom can sleep through their racket. Rats are pretty wild at night. They wrestle with each other, make highly audible chewing sounds on their Coke box, and sometimes I’ll hear a squeal or two if one gets a bit rough with the other. So cute how they jump up to the top of the cage for treats and backrubs whenever I walk by. Now I hear their bell with the wood chews jingling.

SATURDAY, MARCH 23, 2013 Had a dream that Tom got the promotion only it was for $15, not much of a raise. He may turn it down in that case because while he may already make a lot of money and get good benefits, second shift is riskier as much as we’d prefer it, and once he accepts whatever, that’s it, he’s locked in. So if my dream means anything at all, he’ll have to think about it and weigh the pros and cons.

What didn’t make sense was him kissing me goodbye on his way to work at night in another dream (in our new house?). They don’t have a third shift where he works.

I have to think about what to do with my Ask account. Well, I don’t have to, but there are 4 possibilities. I could keep using it. I could abandon it. I could deactivate it and use a secret account till my stalkers find it or Ask shuts down. I could deactivate it and never use Ask again.

Molly’s harassing Alison through her fellow group homies. A guy named Michael, who Molly’s mentioned before in her blog, was apparently ordered by Molly to friend her (Aly didn’t accept) and tell her that Molly misses her and the same old crap she’s been doing for a decade now. Aly said she’s given her enough chances. Michael said she’s “mean.” Aly blocked him.

Alison also gave me Kim’s latest FB link to block. She’s going as Kim Lee these days, but said she’s probably already got me blocked. My first thought was, why would she block me? She’s the one that stalks me, so why would she block me and be unable to spy on me, even if there isn’t much to spy on there? But she did. That is so trollish, too. When I read up on trolls I learned that it’s not only common for them to first reach out to their victims via a cry for help (like Molly did with Aly and I), but to turn the tables and play victim as if we’re the ones bothering them.

Kim probably has other accounts no one knows about that she keeps tabs on people with, hoping they’ll eventually go public. I would if there was a way to keep my friend’s names hidden when they comment or like something of mine, but as of yet there’s no way to do so.

FRIDAY, MARCH 22, 2013 Believe it or not, the hives I got from wasting time and money on that Alli crap are still visible. I still refuse to diet, too. I’ve not only learned that yes, you CAN be fat AND happy. It’s just not worth all the hunger and aggravation for such minimal results. I’ll do what I can to remain fit, but that’s as far as I’m going these days.

Really worried that Mary’s going to end up on the streets. She won’t stop shopping. I hated to sound like her mother, but as a concerned friend I told her to be careful and she just laughed. But it’s not funny!

It’s one thing to end up poor due to circumstances out of our control. It happened to me and it can happen to you, too. But what baffles the hell out of me is why people that are smart enough to know better go and shop away money they don’t have and that they know damn well they should be saving. These are people that are on unemployment, for God’s sake! If our lovely government can decide to tell Tom and I to fuck off for “not working long enough,” think they won’t hesitate to make street bums out of you, too? Well, hopefully they won’t, but they just might. Again, if it can happen to us it can happen to you. There is nothing funny about homelessness. The 36-hour taste my husband and I got of it felt like 36 months! Really, it’s not funny. Don’t foolishly put yourself at risk. It’s ok to want things, but do learn to say “no” to these things till you have a job or win the lottery.

We had a vehicle at the time and it was bad enough being on the street even though we could park it in various parking lots and sit in it. But what if you don’t have a vehicle of your own? Would you be laughing then? If your only choice was to stand outside in the cold or the rain, would it still be funny?

Mary’s too far to rescue should she end up on the street. It’s easy to say, “I’m nobody’s caretaker,” and “It’s their problem,” and “I don’t want anyone else’s problems bringing me down,” but what kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t take in someone I was close to that needed it if they were in my area? They’d do the same for me, wouldn’t they? Well, if they wouldn’t, then I guess they weren’t a true friend. But that’s beside the point. The point is that I just don’t get people at times. I guess for some people it’s like gambling. Sometimes you get on a roll and it’s hard to stop, and after being locked up for 14 years, Mary has had to go without for so damn long. I can understand her eagerness to want to catch up on life’s fun things, but I do worry about her just the same. I know I can’t tell her what to do. She’s an adult, I’m not her mother, and I have no place in telling her how to live her life, so she better hope that the God who allowed her 11-month-old daughter to be murdered gives a shit a little more about her well-being and will see to it that the checks keep coming until she finds work if she’s not going to stop the overspending.

Just saw a banner ad that says, “What does leadership look like?” Then there’s a picture of a black person. So, so very 21st century. Next thing you know ads will appear saying, “What do followers look like?” Then the white guy will be pictured.

Later…

Alison asked me not to post what she told me about Kim in my blog, and I won’t. Actually, I’m trying to give the impression that we’re no longer friends. Nonetheless, Kim asked her a week ago if they could be friends again, and Alison told her it’s best to leave things as they are. She still feels angry for being made such a fool of and I don’t blame her. She also realizes that there’s no point in resuming a friendship that never truly existed and realizes how insane she is what with the sheltered and made-up world she lives in. I agree. Kim’s world is nothing but food, computers and role-playing.

I totally believe Alison is right not to forgive her. Forgive crazy and crazy just fucks you over all over again. There’s no reasoning with crazy. Crazy can’t change. Better to just leave someone you dislike and can’t trust to be themselves rather than try to change them, cuz people simply can’t be changed. Well, they can, but only if they want to and you usually need some degree of sanity and reasoning to do so.

Alison hasn’t heard from Kim since then, but a couple of guys from Molly’s group home tried to unsuccessfully befriend her. She’s got Molly blocked and Molly uses others to try to get what she wants when she can’t go directly to the source. Had to laugh when I learned that her mother changed her PW on FB for bashing fellow group homies. That’s something she would do. Molly can’t get along with anybody and I mean anybody.

Andy and I should probably be careful what we say if we ever communicate with people like Lady Di from our new Ask accounts. In fact, if we were smart we wouldn’t ask anyone else any questions at all so as not to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.

Oh, that crazy Connecticut cunt, though. It doesn’t think I know what questions on Ask are from her, but I do. My first thought was to just give her stupid, crazy, boring, senseless questions an equally stupid, crazy, boring, senseless answer, but in her sick, twisted mind, that’ll mean we’re friends again. Well, we’re not. We’re never going to be either. Same goes for Kathy.

But Kim is crazy and knows nothing but food, fantasies and cyberstalking, so I don’t want her getting the wrong idea and taking my answering her to mean we’re buddies again. But rather than go non-anonymous, I’ll just ignore what comes in from her (and yes, I do know what’s hers) until I get sick of it enough to shut it down again. Besides, if FS is shutting down, Ask probably will too, won’t it?

Tom was interviewed but may not know anything till next week. They actually interviewed tons of people. The finalists are going to have another interview on Monday or Tuesday. If they care about who’s most qualified, then Tom has a great chance. If they only care who’s got the youngest, darkest skin like so many places do, then he doesn’t. Funny, the number of people who have told me they realized I’m right about certain things. Maybe they’ll realize I’m right about God, too.

I have been battling PMS hunger like crazy for 3 days now. I eat, I’m hungry, I eat, I’m hungry… Every month I reset my weight back to where it was before the PMS hunger set in. I probably could lose weight, even with a fucked up thyroid, if it weren’t for PMS undoing the weight that naturally comes off during the first two weeks after periods. But I absolutely totally REFUSE to ever diet again. I do want to eventually get my thyroid checked and I do worry about gaining more weight. I don’t mind staying where I’m at, though, because it’s what I’m used to and it does have its advantages. No guy’s going to pester a big girl like me if I were alone at the pool of whatever park we move to. Also, if some 120-pound chick gets it in mind to casually threaten me simply because she may be taller, I’m sure I’d get a kick out of the look on her face when this 145-pound bitch with a temper and a definite distaste for being threatened tosses her halfway across the room. So yeah, life in full figure mode does have its advantages, and these curves aren’t going anywhere anytime soon anyway.

What people can’t see can work in one’s favor, too. You can see the muscle in my abs, shoulders and calves, but the rest of me doesn’t look muscular at all because it is covered in so much fat. So I don’t look nearly as strong as I am and that in itself can be an advantage if you’re underestimated.

Later…

Cray.

I laughed knowingly when I caught a part of an older man’s journal who said he hated some of the new “words” coming out, like cray, and didn’t get today’s “creative” language and spelling. Like most young people, I found it amusing and entertaining when I was young, but at 47 I can’t help but see it as immature in some ways. To each their own, and no, I’m not saying anyone should change, but for me, there are no such words in the English language as cray, meh and some of the other shit that’s out there these days. I can deal with chillax perhaps because it is a combination of two words that actually do exist and are spelled properly. However, it’s almost the visual equivalent to nails on a chalkboard when I see sometimes spelled like sumtimes and probably spelled like probly. I can see “I luv u 2” to save on limited character spacing, but it’s really no wonder each generation is getting more and more illiterate.

While I’m ranking on people for some of the stupid shit they do to annoy me, it never ceases to amaze me just how many people get so damn upset over what others choose to write about in their own journals. Just so, so upset like it’s a personal insult or false rumors against them. Why do so many people get so emotional about other people’s journals and take things so damn personally? Like everything’s about you and your own precious little opinions. Want to express your opinions? Do it in your own damn blog cuz I’m not about to write mine with you in mind. Really, why read people’s blogs if it’s just going to get you so upset? Just wondering, is all. :)

Some of you act like you were forced to read my blogs or you just couldn’t help but see it. Sorry folks, but it doesn’t come to you. YOU go to IT. So if you can’t handle it, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut and move on. Complaining won’t get you anywhere anyway with me because I write for ME. I’m too selfish to write what others want to hear, and as I’ve said before, there’s no such thing as writing to please everyone anyway. So if it hadn’t been for the one who criticized me for being willing to defend myself against anyone who threatened or attacked me, someone else would’ve criticized me for doing nothing and allowing myself to be assaulted had I said that that’s what I would do instead.

So never assume your opinion will change things. It is heard but it is not necessarily a tool to shape, change, or mold people into how you think they should be.

Ok, I guess that concludes my bitchfest against humanity for a while. :)

Now I’ve got till the 31st to decide if I want to put my old Ask account back to sleep when FS shuts down, or just abandon it like Andy did with his account. I definitely don’t want to be logging in and out of two different accounts. That gets to be a real pain.

Later…

Tom and I discussed things and everything’s still on for picking a place out in April. Everything is still going as planned and falling into place nicely. So unless anything arises that we can’t see, we should have 70 days or less in this little old dump with our engine-gunning landlord up the hill.

I just burst out laughing and then I felt my eyes sting with tears of happy anticipation. It just seems so unreal. Although we didn’t struggle the entire time, we’ve been living in nothing but tiny dives since 2005. To think we are that close to owning a real house with sufficient space, more than just a few wall outlets, and an extra bathroom, is mind-boggling. It’s just so hard to believe. I thought we’d rent undersized dumps for the rest of our lives.

We won’t give the good news to Jesse (which will be bad news for him) until the place is officially in escrow. bursts out laughing again Escrow. Listen to me. Damn, that’s really me saying that.

I can’t wait to get the show on the road! Not just for obvious reasons, but there are so many other things we’ve been putting on hold until the move, some by choice and some of it not by choice. I can’t wait to have a fast, reliable connection that doesn’t cut in and out on me!

I’m looking around me in the room in which I’m now sitting. I’ve seen these walls for half a decade now. It seems so weird to know that in 70 days or less, I’ll never see them again. It will be the first move in a long, long time that I will be excited about instead of stressed or sad.

The lack of dreams is a bit weird, but I don’t see everything in my dreams before it happens anyway. I just thought I would because I saw many details about the last two places before we found them.

THURSDAY, MARCH 21, 2013 Did my own nail design and hated how it came out. White, pink and green specs on royal blue and turquoise backgrounds. After I removed it I applied Nicole’s Iceberg Lotus, one of my favorites.

Now that my nails don’t look like a child had some fun with them, I’m ready to write. I was asked on Ask “You seem very negative. Is there anything that makes you truly happy?”

Pretty sure I know who asked this, too. I was a bit surprised. I thought we were done with each other. Aren’t they supposed to hate me? Either way, I didn’t mind answering the question and thought it’d make for a good blog entry.

Yes, many things make me happy. :) I realize that I can be a rather dynamic and dramatic writer who may come off as angrier, stressed or sad than she actually feels. I’ve noticed this in my writing before. Reading back on some things I said to myself, “I don’t remember feeling THAT upset.”

If I wrote, “I hate streaky nail polish, argh!” It could lead one who doesn’t know me very well to believe that streaky nail polish really pisses me off big time when in fact it’s just a small annoyance. But I write how I write. :) This doesn’t mean that I haven’t had many hardships that have helped hone my way of thinking and being. I have. There are many reasons I am the way I am.

To answer her question about what makes me truly happy - some of those are small things like a good book, a tasty meal, or my favorite music. Some are big things like the love of my husband, having enough food to eat, and not having to struggle to pay the rent. Things are TREMENDOUSLY better than they were a couple of years ago when things got so bad it damn near killed us. For years we tried desperately to grasp the reigns of our lives but it wasn’t to be for quite a while. But now we’re once again in the driver’s seat of our lives and we intend to keep it that way for as long as we can and try not to fall prey to circumstances out of our control, be it the economy, evil-doers, etc.

As someone else said, people would be just as quick to question me if I always wrote positive, happy things. They would demand to know what it was I was hiding. I’m not stupid. I know how people are. What some accept, others will challenge.

Later…

Sure enough, Kim’s at it again on Ask. So much for being a “changed” woman. She asked whatever happened to “Tia” and if we still keep in touch. Why would anyone else ask that? Then she said, “What makes you think this is Kim?”

Well, maybe it was Molly, Alison, Judy or someone else altogether, but somehow I doubt it.

Today I got more online attention from those I don’t care to get it from as opposed to those whose online presence and attention are always welcomed. Sad, huh? Makes me wonder just what it is I’m doing wrong. I’m sure someone on my-diary will be quick to tell me. That site seems to be the leader in insults for feedback, perhaps because it’s easier to hide there under false identities and email addresses. That’s ok. I can quit picking up messages there if I get tired of the same old kiddy drama. :)

I also got my first henna kit today and boy did I fuck up! First I had trouble transferring stencils, then I had trouble with the consistency of the dye. You squeeze the dye out of a bottle through a metal needle and the problem was that I kept getting such thick lines of dye that was hard to control. Because there was too much dye, it obscured the design I was trying to create. Sometimes the dye would stop flowing altogether due to little air pockets, causing me to have to squeeze a little harder and get an even bigger glob of dye.

So my thumb and index finger “rings” look like worms, my stars and hearts are distorted, my leafy vine looks more like a grapevine, and I don’t know how to describe the last two designs. They look alien. That’s all I can say.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 20, 2013 OMG, this is too fucking funny! Since reactivating my Ask account, what I suspect to be Molly, asked if I thought I was going to hell right around the time she answered her own question from someone asking her to guess who they are who supposedly checks her out on FB daily (I have her blocked there). I thought it might be her due to the way it was written, the nature of the question, then seeing that she was around at the time. I deleted this question.

Today, however, I get asked: Do you keep secrets from people?

I ran and found I had a blog view from Harlingen where Molly’s from that came in around the same time as the question. Molly’s group home is in Austin and she hasn’t said anything in her blog about going home anytime soon. This told me it was probably the mother, who has harassed me before right along with her darling daughter. Deciding to give Mommy Dearest a big shock at best if I were right, and at worst, not causing any harm if I were wrong, I answered with: Hello, Mrs. M. Long time no hear. That depends. Usually no. I just don’t feel I have anything worth keeping secret that’s that valuable. However, I may keep secret a party or a gift I may want to surprise someone with. Or I may keep secret the fact that I think so-and-so looks shitty so as not to hurt their feelings.

I posted my bio on OD last night and am flabbergasted by all the views it got. Been getting a lot of views there anyway as opposed to any other blog I’ve ever used, but this isn’t just for a few minutes as in most cases. This is for hours. There are a few people that have spent over 2-3 hours in it and many that spend 20-30 minutes in it.

Someone flung insults at me on MD mostly about God and “waiting for my dead parents’ money.” I thought of posting an altered version of their lovely feedback but decided to just ignore them for now. The email addy they used was bogus, too. My favorite part was when they said “Read your journals.”

Haha, I don’t need to read them. I wrote to them. I know what’s in them.

It’s raining out there today. It began late yesterday afternoon. No barking, motorcycles or saws yesterday, but I got some hammering before the rain and was thinking to myself, “Come on, folks, give it up! We’re in the woods. Aren’t the woods supposed to be peaceful?

Anyway, tomorrow it’s back to dry sunshine and the usual buzzing of saws and intermittent loud vehicles. At least the dogs have been amazingly quiet. Don’t know if it will stay that way until we leave, but it’s nice for however long it lasts.

I’m getting impatient with wanting to move! Not because it’s so horrible here or anything like that, but my days of renting little old dumps have finally caught up to me. I rolled with the punches as best I could for a while and now this isn’t good enough for me anymore. Or for Tom. We want space and a place we can call our own! Renting was fine for a while. I liked the idea of having the repair expenses be on a landlord or a management company, but it would be plenty worth it to do it all ourselves. This way we could do it our way and at our convenience unless it was an emergency.

Sometimes I wish there really was such a thing as prayer and that I could pray to speed things up, but know that things have to play themselves out the way they were meant to and all I can do is make the best of it.

We learned our bank does manufactured home loans, so they may help us if a homeowner doesn’t want to finance us.

Things are still looking good and if all continues to go well, we should be getting really close. Just maybe Tom will be right and we’ll pick out a place sometime in April and be out of here in May. But this is it. The bum living ends the day we leave this dump. After Tom got his job I kept telling myself to just enjoy the money while it lasted because we would surely be poor again since we already have been a few times, but I can’t accept that anymore. Enough is more than enough. Just like I refuse to be anyone’s legal victim ever again (or any other kind of victim) I refuse to let society, the economy or God force us into poverty ever again. We’ve done our time struggling and living like bums. Never again! We will do our part to save and be smart with our money, but we won’t let anyone do their part in destroying us and taking all we’ve worked for. Even if God took his mighty fist and slammed it down upon our future home, there will still be money saved in 3 separate locations and insurance to rebuild with.

Tom will be interviewed for the job I strongly sense he’ll get. My vibes say $16.60 an hour, though most people who do the job he’s interviewing for get $18. If it’s not a big enough raise, he’s not going to take the job because A, second shift is never as safe as first even if the hours would be better for us, and B, he would lose tons of OT which could actually mean making less money if he didn’t get much of a raise. Without bonuses and OT his pay would now be 28K which is really just average. Average to most people but rich to us after receiving $1200 a month for years from Unemployment. There will still be some OT on second shift, just not as much.

I know I should work out today since I skipped yesterday, but I just don’t feel like it. Losing and regaining the same damn 5 pounds is rather discouraging. And oh, that PMS hunger! There’s just no controlling it. Tomorrow Tom’s stopping by the mail place to pick up our packages on the way home from work and is also stopping off at KFC. I’m going to eat and eat till I’m so sick I don’t ever want to eat again!

Decided to give Tom the Kindle holder for his tablet. I don’t like it much after all. Because the headboard shelf is rounded on the edge it couldn’t clamp to it very well and it fell off. Fortunately, it waited till after I got up to do it. It’s also a pain in the ass getting the angle just right and keeping the print in portrait mode instead of landscape, and a pain to take in and out of the holder. I like to use it while I’m on the treadmill, and I have to take it out to charge it, too. Lastly, it kind of sucks to think you’ve got it raised up high enough at bedtime just to accidentally punch it when you’re fluffing up the covers. I would really rather just hold it at this point.

Later…

Again with the Estrella jail view on MO (I forgot I had two entries about that lovely time) this time appearing to be in Minnesota, though I strongly believe it’s the same person with a dynamic IP which means they share an IP that changes often. All their other info is the same. Same browser, same OS, same everything. This time they spent 13 minutes on my blog and browsed my ‘about’ page as well as the entry leading up to being thrown in jail. I don’t know that it’s connected to Nancy or the blacks, though, because they haven’t been to my other blog. I think it’s someone with an interest in Estrella jail, though. Either someone who was there or knew someone who was there. I’ve still got the jail entries set to friends for now.

Got a direct hit from Houston on the same blog Mommy Dearest viewed. Wonder if there was a connection there?

Either way, I couldn’t resist the urge to unblock her on Facebook and tell her that I answered her question, but please leave me alone. I wished her the best but reminded her that I didn’t want any contact with her or Molly.

If I’m right and it really was her, she’s got to be reeling with shock trying to figure out how the hell I knew it was her, LOL. I’m surprised she didn’t hit back with a nasty reply and more legal threats. But she hasn’t done that and she hasn’t denied or confirmed anything. Maybe she’s just waiting till she thinks up the best words to say to me.

The troll keeps peeking in on me nearly every day, sometimes more than once. I used to think she was looking for Alison’s name, and maybe that used to be the case, but now I don’t know. She views every single comment I get which is pretty much only from Adonis since I keep communication to a minimum there, so I don’t know what she’s looking for. She can’t possibly read every single word I write. She’s not in long enough. Maybe she just likes making her presence known, in her mind, on my tracker.

I made sure to avoid news headlines today. If you want to remain happy, reading the news is not the way to do it. We make no excuses for pedophiles whatsoever yet we make all the excuses in the world for rapists. And people wonder why I prefer to spend so much time alone or with my husband? Funny, ain’t it?

I’m not going to say in public how I knew it was the troll’s mother who asked if I keep secrets on Ask, but I realize that a lot of the rude questions I got in the past could have been from her as well as the usual trolls and whoever else. I forget at times that yes, mothers really do do this shit at times and can be no better or more mature than their daughters when they should be setting a better example for them instead. It’s just hard to fathom that an adult in their 50s – a mother of 3 and grandmother of 2 – can be so hateful, vengeful and immature. But the sad reality is that they can. They can be every bit as bad as their fucked up offspring and sometimes worse. Imagine if her students knew just what their teacher does in the privacy of her own home at times. Some example she is, huh?

She sure is tall and anorexic looking, though. Molly’s gained a lot of weight, though. Probably all the drugs they keep her doped up on.

All I ever wanted for the last 4 years was a life without these people in it. I don’t want to be their friend. I don’t want to be their enemy. I just want to be as meaningless to them as one of the snowflakes they stood in when posing in front of a private plane. They may have money and I may be forever poor in comparison, but they have NOTHING else as far as I’m concerned. To me, they are just another grain of sand lost in the dirt that surrounds this place.

But what do I have? Huh? What do I have that keeps them hooked on me? I obviously have something that is so damn interesting that’s had them tailing me for this long, and what I sadly realize could be for the rest of my life. Really, I can’t do anything without them knowing about it. I can’t allow for comments just anywhere because they’ll stalk, follow and pester me every chance they get. I can’t do much of anything unless I don’t use my name or make sure I’m careful about who can find out about it. For now… their money won’t save them when they cross the line and go too far.

Later…

LOL, Judy blocked me after peeking in on the entry I just posted about her, which I had removed by the time she peeked in on me again. My mentioning seeing her pics must’ve freaked her out, hahaha. Ah, but I have no sympathy for Judy M. Or her darling daughter. I just hope these two don’t start shit with me all over again. Worst-case scenario I deactivate on Ask again and I go private on MD if they start harassing me there, too. They never have yet, though I suppose they could start. Meanwhile, I wonder if Judy will be back tomorrow to add to the 46 minutes she spent on my blog today.

Later…

Now she says on Ask that she doesn’t know what I’m talking about, she hasn’t asked me any questions, please do not contact her again. I just told her I was sorry for any mix-up on my part. Do I think I could be mistaken about who asked me about secrets? No, I don’t. But I don’t want any trouble either.

She just thanked me and told me to have a nice life. “You too, ma’am,” I told her.

Now let’s see how often she comes to my blog tomorrow.

TUESDAY, MARCH 19, 2013 Woke up an hour and a half earlier, and the Kindle in its holder above me scared the shit out of me. I’m not used to it being there, and the bedroom doesn’t get much light in it due to the black-out drapes, so I was startled to find this large dark shadow hovering above me till I remembered what it was.

I only remember one dream from last night. I was sitting on a toilet in the middle of a small room. Two guys were in the room taunting me. Why I would be on a toilet in front of them is beyond me, same as why I would use a toilet that had no privacy to begin with. I jumped up a moment later and proceeded to leave. The guys were now sitting on the floor and I had to walk by them to get to the door. Each one grabbed an ankle and yanked me down to the floor between them. I was both scared and pissed. I managed to kick myself free and ran out into a short, dimly lit corridor with only one or two people in it. I didn’t want to run and let the cocks know they really shook me up, but I also didn’t want to move too slowly in case they decided to run out and grab me and then drag me back into the room with them to possibly rape or kill me.

I ran down the short, poorly lit corridor and took a left into a long, brightly lit corridor with several people milling about it. I ran all the way to the end of it where I found an open recreational area with lots of chairs tables and couches. A young woman turned to me from a large round table she sat at playing some kind of card game with half a dozen others, and handed me a half-smoked cigarette.

I took it and said, “What the hell. It’s been a while.”

I often think of returning to smoking in real life to help control my weight, but if something’s wrong with my thyroid as I suspect could be the case, smoking won’t cure it. As I knew would be the case, the losing streak I was on didn’t last long. Once I lose 5 pounds my body fights to hang onto weight and resets itself back where it was. I’m not quite back where I was, and I’m at that time where I carry an extra pound or two of water, but I know that either way, smoking will only cost a lot of money and give me breathing problems like I used to have all the time. Once we get moved and don’t have so much to focus on, I’ll get it checked out. If all I need is some medication to stabilize it, then fine. Then I could either stay fat or know I could lose weight through diet and exercise and finally get results without damn near starving myself.

Time to hit the shower. I’m sure the daily buzzing of saws will start up any second now, too.

Another Estrella jail blog entry hit, this time from an unknown location in the US, but also with Verizon. It’s ok. I’m not running. I haven’t done anything wrong.

Later…

Another person to tell me not to bother praying to a God that doesn’t exist, and another voice of reason. I love it! However, just because prayer never worked for me doesn’t mean I don’t still think there’s something up there, something that may listen to only some of us. Chances are they prayed for what was meant to be anyway and it was just a coincidence that they got what they asked for, but you never know. There could still be something up there playing favorites. Seems like a reasonable enough assumption based on the fact that some people have great lives while others have absolutely shitty lives. Don’t ask me to explain why, though. Why some of us are hated and fed into the hands of abusive people while others are blessed with loving families, money and good health throughout most of their lives is something we may never know. And if we do, it probably won’t be in this life.

Some believe God and the devil are one while others believe they are separate entities. I believe they are one and the same. I have always believed that God, or whatever you want to call it, is the most powerful force there is. So unless that belief is wrong, wouldn’t He overthrow the devil and stop him from doing evil if he were a separate entity? Because he obviously hasn’t, I believe God is both good and evil, but mostly evil. It just depends on who you are. If He decides you’re ok for whatever reason, you should be fine. If you’re on His shit list…

I still don’t understand the concept of “coming out.” Oh, the mysteries of the world and the people in it, huh? Someone recently asked me what it was like coming out and admitting I liked women as well as men. I couldn’t answer that cuz I never really felt the need to “come out” to anyone any more than the need to explain or defend why I think black olives go better in salads than green ones.

It just is. I just am.

I figured I could just be myself and leave it at that. I knew that some would be ok with it and some wouldn’t, and well, that was their problem. As long as they didn’t harm me I had nothing to worry about and neither did they. I figured that no matter what we are, gay, straight, tall, short, fat, thin, no one’s universally liked anyway, so those who minded didn’t matter and those who didn’t were what mattered in a sense.

Now moving onto the topic of revenge. I’m getting these ideas based on things I see posted on Facebook, in case you’re wondering. I don’t like the idea of revenge and being vengeful and all that because that’s stooping to our perp’s level. However, I also learned the hard way that not doing anything about someone who’s wronging us can send the wrong message. One that says, “Go on. Keep fucking with me. I’ll just lay down and take it.” So it’s tough at times. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but turning the other cheek and ignoring some situations isn’t always the answer either. Sometimes we gotta fight back.

LOL, love my friend’s post on “progress” in Saudi Arabia. That’s because they’re running out of swordsmen to behead people over there so now they’ll use guns, which puts them to the 19th century.

Really, some people make their own haters. I don’t understand this big push we’ve been on for so many years now to love everyone (so long as they’re not gay) despite the criminalistic, vengeful, violent ways of some of them in which they simply won’t let go of no matter how much freedom, privileges and rights we give them. Want people to like you? Then give them a reason to! And don’t go crying and asking yourself why if some people don’t like you after you’ve treated them like total shit, because tears won’t cut it with all of us.

Hmm…now Rutland, VT is in my Estrella entry. Maybe I should mark that entry for just friends until I know what’s going on. My unknown Estrella visitor is gone, suggesting they’re the same visitor, which would overwrite the last one. The check I did doesn’t seem to think they’re going through a proxy, though they say they’re in Orland, NH. I googled “Estrella jail” and my blog didn’t come up, though it is googlable. It still seems fishy. Once again, though, I’m not going back there or to any other jail! If you read one’s blog, you may not like it and that’s YOUR problem.

Later…

Someone asked if I thought I was going to hell. I noticed Molly answered a question around the same time, assumed it was her, and then deleted the answer. The person, who doesn’t really write like Molly writes, asked why I deleted it. So it was asked by someone with an account, huh? But Molly hadn’t answered any more questions when they returned to ask why I deleted it, so maybe it wasn’t Molly. It probably was, though. I’m trying to ask Molly “innocent” and harmless questions like if she likes jogging, so that she’ll be more likely to answer them. The more I can compare times and the more her answers match the times of certain questions, the more likely it is to be her.

Heard a few loud, low-flying helicopters in the area and I really hope we don’t have a repeat of spring of 2009 gearing up here. At that time they replaced wires on the steel tower up at the summit, and the project, which took months, was utterly maddening with these things flying back and forth over our heads transporting parts. If they’re doing this same thing nearby it wouldn’t be as loud, but in a little tin box like this, it would be annoying enough. Then again, I’m only going to have to listen to other things when we move, like the old man pounding on a new roof to our left and the old lady getting a new heat/AC pump installed to our right. Maybe the couple across the street will decide they should replace their gravel yard with grass, and maybe the ones in back will decide it’s time for a paint job. Of course a sewer pipe or something under the road in front of our house will have to jam up or burst so they can have to tear up the road as well. Busted utility pole? No problem. That too, can be dealt with while I’m trying to sleep or concentrate on getting over my dry spell and back to my writing.

MONDAY, MARCH 18, 2013 Maybe Kim really did get a touch of at least temporary sanity because nothing that smells of her has come in on Ask account #1.

It had been a while so I said hello to Christiane. She’s so sick of the snow there she said maybe she’ll come to me. I’d love it if she did! I’d have to see it to believe it, though.

Tammy cracked me up the other day when she told me about these Jehovah’s Witnesses who came to her door. She tried to tell them she wasn’t interested. But when they insisted they could help her, she said, “Ok, hang on a second.” Then she returned with her vacuum in hand. LOL

Since I only slept 6-7 hours two nights ago, I slept forever last night and didn’t get up till 10am. It did wonders for my weight. What’s up with that lately anyway? For nearly two weeks I’ve been losing weight without even trying. People my age don’t just up and lose 5 pounds even if they work out.

Something about 1988 came to me and I wonder if it could be the year our future home was built. The homes in the area we’re looking at are mostly 80s houses, and I didn’t know this, but they’re built just like houses. Only instead of being on concrete or wooden pillars, they’re on a steel frame. I thought they didn’t start making them like houses till the 90s, but nope. In fact, the park we like doesn’t allow trailers or even single-wides.

Tom saw an ad for a quadruple-wide at our second favorite park. We’ve never heard of a quadruple-wide, but we don’t need or want 2100 square feet. I prefer the 1000-1600 range with 1200-1400 being the most ideal.

I feel bad for the people next to the house we considered that just sold. What racket they’re in for, especially when they pound on a new roof! This is just the type of thing I fear we’ll have to deal with when we get moved in wherever and that there will always be something going on around us that’s a little too close for comfort. Again, they’re mostly 80s models, and that’s getting pretty old. Most of them will need fixing up.

For dreams, we owned a 2-story house and I rode my bike to a third shift job. I wish! I realized, though, that even if I didn’t have sleep issues, I couldn’t simply go out and just get a job. The economy sucks, I’m older, fatter, white, and with a joke of a job history. By the time I found something I just might be close to retirement age!

Anyway, another week or two and we should know if Tom got the promotion. At that point, if our credit score is where it needs to be, Tom will then see if the park will let him fill out an application before we have a place picked out just to get a sense of what they require. We still may have to pay the rental agency scammers in Oregon their fucking $200 since we still have a year before they’re no longer marring our credit.

We’ve learned that once we have everything required in place, we’re going to have to jump on the house we want right away or else it’ll be gone in a week or two. They suck them up faster than they’re listed whether they’re nice or dumpy.

Later…

I’m in the mood to write, but can’t think of anything to say. I guess I could say that I just hope the move doesn’t take too much longer and that we really do pick out a place in April and move into it in May like Tom thinks we will. Yes, good things are worth waiting for, but I sure am tired of waiting. But not all of us just get things in life. Some of us have to take the necessary steps and work toward our goals and dreams.

When I think of all the fun I’m going to have online that this slow, unreliable connection has deprived me of for so long, I smile just at the thought of it. Same with being able to be out and about more often, biking, swimming, etc. Oh, what fun I’ll have setting up and decorating the new place, too!

Tom epoxied the broken part of the Kindle holder after getting a new part for it made of metal and not cheap plastic, and it’s been great not having to hold the heavy thing in these little hands of mine.

Tom went to order his pills on Amazon, Co-Q10, and asked if I wanted anything while he was at it. He threw tons of fun stuff in for himself and decided in the end what he wanted. It feels so good to be able to do that instead of having to prioritize nearly every little thing in life.

So I thought about it and couldn’t really think of anything. Then I remembered that I wanted to try my hand at a henna design on my hands and arms and maybe even my feet, so I got a small kit.

Since Formspring is shutting down, I casually mentioned my profile link in an entry just to see how much freedom from trolls I really do have at this point. On Formspring, you can still ask questions anonymously, but you need to have an account there, unlike with Ask.

Getting really tired now, so I think it’s time to read until I fall asleep.

SUNDAY, MARCH 17, 2013 Not sure the onion is going to work for me the way it does for Andy, but I may give it at least a week. I’m healthy, so I don’t really need anything around to boost the health of what’s already a healthy person. I still woke up several times, only slept 6-7 hours, and my God did the room reek of onions! Regular onions are way more potent than green onions, and the bedroom is so tiny.

For dreams, I had one about going to Germany, though I went by myself. I’d never travel to another country alone! I met with both Nane and Christiane in the dream. Christiane wanted to dance and Nane kept telling me she was horny.

Then I was at some beach or lake all by myself. I looked behind me to see a young buck eying me in a way that sent chills down my spine. Then another one came trotting toward me and I ran into the water a good 20’ or so. It remained by the water’s edge and eyed me as if to say, “Come back here, bitch, so I can ram your ass good!”

The last dream was the strangest because it was in the third person, even though that third person wasn’t visible to anyone. I watched a very depressed young woman in some hospital. She’d been there a long time. I’m not sure if the hospital serviced problems above or below the neck, but I’d say it was probably above.

One of the nurses liked her. Not in a romantic or lustful kind of way; she was just very fond of her. At one point the nurse, a brunette with straight shoulder-length hair, led the petite girl to her bed. She had her own room. The nurse lovingly tucked the covers around the girl and said, “All set?”

The girl nodded and waited for the nurse to leave. When she did, she hung herself. Not long afterward, the nurse entered the room, then ran out of it screaming, “Oh no!”

My old Ask account has been open for a few days now and all that’s come in that’s questionable so far is a question about what my favorite exercise is. That smells of Molly, who is into exercising as well, still losing weight, but always 161 pounds, LOL. I did answer it, though. Someone just asked me if I could braid. I suppose that could be anyone.

Later…

My first time cooking bay scallops went well, though it sure looked strange when I got done with them. Not the scallops but the breadcrumb and melted margarine mixture they were in. It sort of looked like watery stuffing, but tasted delicious.

Later on, I sautéed them in margarine like before but threw some in a bag full of breadcrumbs. I liked it better just sautéed in margarine, though I knew it would be best if they were stuffed in the stuffing they use to stuff lobsters with at Red Lobster.

I doubt I’ll get them again. I just like to try something new every now and then, and while I’ve always loved scallops, I’ve never cooked them before.

Tom soldered the part that broke on the Kindle holder and made the place smell of burning hair till I lit some honeysuckle incense, and then he gave me a bag of Chicken and Waffle chips he wouldn’t dare touch. I guess Lay’s is doing a promotional thing where they enclose a new weird taste in the variety pack bags. Even if you like both chicken and waffles, those two do not go well together at all! It tasted strange as hell. The rats will love them, though.

SATURDAY, MARCH 16, 2013 Again with the Estrella Jail view, this time from Virginia. black bitch-related? She once lived there.

It’s a typical country day so far laced with the intermittent sound of saws buzzing. The rats are being punished and denied having free reign of the place after not going home when told to. I’m sure the guilt will set in, though, and I’ll let them out to run around at some point.

Formspring is shutting down at the end of the month. Guess they just can’t afford to keep it running. I created a whole new account on Ask (Andy’s doing the same), but have temporarily opened my old one up. Just curious to see how much Kim’s “changed” like she told Aly, though I do believe that she wasn’t my only troll. I’m not going to mention my old account being opened again in public just yet. I want to see who may discover it on their own. I’m sure Molly will, though she usually just lurks in silence. I don’t miss the troll’s drama but I miss some of my foreign friends there, and without my close friends and family communicating with me on my old account, I’m not as worried about using it. I know it sounds funny, but it wasn’t me who couldn’t deal with them so much as the thought of them harassing those I care about. That really bothered me big time when they would latch onto them. I’ll just ignore or deactivate the account if I suspect anything from Kim or Molly. They can annoy me so long as they don’t mess with my closest people.

FRIDAY, MARCH 15, 2013 There have been a lot of views from various states in the parts of my blog that talks about Maricopa and life in jail. Just wondering if someone’s up to no good. Just got a hit from Illinois with Verizon Wireless. That’s what Nancy has, though she would come up as being up by Chicago and not down by St. Louis, Missouri.

Although I don’t see any posts about vengeance on her wall, this is just the type of person who would try to sue me if she could. Again, though, I don’t see how she could. I don’t know that anyone who’s recently hit those entries was necessarily up to no good anyway, and I would think that if someone had a problem with my blogs I’d know it by now. I’m still pretty sure that if that was a real cop that messaged me about the nig bitch, it was about spam and whatever bogus threats they digitally altered in a way that made me look bad, not about the blog itself.

I just really hope that after God allowed me to have my ass legally whipped to hell and back once that He won’t find some loophole for them to slip through or some legality I didn’t know about and use that to make going home even harder. Meanwhile, I’m determined not to worry about the fact that in America we have freedom of speech… until we say something people don’t want to hear. As far as I’m concerned, I have the right to express myself and I’m going to exercise that right as I see fit, within reason, of course. If mentioning a cellmate on a first-name basis from over a decade ago isn’t ok, then I don’t know what is.

Exchanged messages with Alison and Mary and am dismayed to hear that Alison’s exchanged “small pleasantries” with Kim and that Mary’s in touch with her mom. Says she’s old and she loves her. That may be so but she also abused her. If it’s not ok to go back to an abusive lover, why an abusive family member? Because they’re old? Because they gave birth to them? Hardly seems like a good enough reason to me, but it’s her life.

Not surprisingly, Kim’s claiming she’s “changed,” though Alison admits she doesn’t want to resume the friendship since she’s been lied to and hurt enough by her. That’s why I have a no-forgiveness rule. People don’t usually change and will just keep repeating their mistakes till they are dumped for good. Let’s just say I can forgive a lot easier than I can resume friendships. If Kathy apologized I could probably forgive her, but I wouldn’t take her back as a friend. She blew it. She’s proven she can’t handle those who think differently than her and that she is a very insensitive person. Aly said she’s very sorry Kathy did that to me and that anytime she’s reached out to her she has always ignored her.

Anyway, Kim is too crazy to change. I’ve seen enough craziness in my life between all the places my mother and the state shipped me off too, and when I was more sociable in my younger days as an adult.

It’s been wonderful learning that Bill’s cancer has returned and that he’s very ill. Croakably ill, I hope. Really, I’m sorry for Sarah and Becky, but I otherwise have zero tolerance or sympathy for wife/child beaters. Eh, they’ll probably be able to nuke the cancer and send him home.

To my utter amazement but delight, it was dead quiet until after 2:00 when the saws started up in back. Someone’s definitely gotta have a workshop of sorts up there at the summit. I was going to post entries hours ago but ended up much busier than I expected to be between running, cleaning and working online.

Tammy left a couple of long and detailed messages explaining her health and about her phone call with Walter. Apparently, Mom didn’t keep good records. The business is showing a profit during 2012 when in fact it took a loss. I guess that now Walter is trying to keep the IRS from taking undue taxes, but I don’t expect anything. I’m not only used to getting the short end of the stick, but we’re used to doing things on our own for the most part. If I do get money, then it will be a pleasant surprise.

What sucks is Tammy’s condition. They finally diagnosed it properly (I knew they would), and she met this really great doctor who diagnosed her in just two weeks after she had to wonder what the hell was wrong with her for 4 years. They’ve now narrowed it down to being either muscular dystrophy or multiple sclerosis. What sucks is that it’s really affecting her muscles and her immune system so she has to take antibiotics 3 times a week for the rest of her life. There’s no cure for these diseases and while they’re not fatal, they can cause a lot of hardship and complications.

I wondered aloud to Tom if she’d be well enough to come out here and he said that maybe we’d go there. Yeah, that’s kind of what I was thinking, though I really don’t want to. Well, IDK. On the one hand, I still hate to travel and it’s not going to any place I haven’t been to before to add to my somewhat long list of travels. On the other hand, it sure would be nice to see not just Tammy and Mark, but Sarah, Becky, Andy, Eileen and maybe my Italian dad, too. Tammy says she doesn’t smoke much these days, and when she does it’s done outside, so that’s good because I couldn’t stay with any smokers.

I think she’ll make it out here, though, and I doubt I’ll ever be back in New England, so please - anyone from MA or CT that reads this that I’m close to - don’t get your hopes up, ok?

The house we liked sold. I figured it would be gone by the weekend, but that’s ok. We both agreed that while it was in a great location, the work it needed surely would’ve left us without a life since everything had to be done. Everything. Painting a few rooms is one thing, but to do that and the roof and the ceiling and the bathrooms would be a bit much. It was also too big for us and the kitchen was just horrible. There was the lack of appliances to consider, too.

It would explain why I could never “feel” us living there and the lack of dreams I’ve been having. I still believe – or at least hope – that I’ll get more clues in my dreams the closer we get to the move. The house did have some of the few clues I’ve already gotten but not enough. Unfortunately, last night’s dream was backward. We were moving out of a park instead of into one. Hopefully, that doesn’t mean we’ll never get into one or we won’t like it. Hopefully, it means nothing at all or that we won’t be there forever. Like maybe we’ll move to Spain or Florida when he retires.

Tom thinks we’ll probably get a 20K - 30K place with a small loan and a huge down payment. It’s frustrating because we know what park it’s in, but not which house it is. A part of me wants to comb through the satellite pictures and try to guess and see if anything comes to me that I may sense, but the park is huge and so it’d be rather pointless. Yes, future house! We know where you are, but not who you are.

We’re on for cooler temps and rain at the end of the week, but who knows if it will really happen?

My message to Maliheh asking if she got the stuff I sent from my Hotmail account was picked up after I sent it from mail.com. Sure enough, though, she is continuing to ignore me, so my suspicions about her were right. They say our gut feeling is the one to trust, after all. I don’t doubt for a minute at this point that she befriended me under false pretenses and that was to ensure her name got kept out of my book. She probably doesn’t want to actually come out and tell me she’s dumping me because I think she not only enjoys playing games just like she did 22 years ago and stringing people along, but I think she fears I’ll bash her and use her name in future books or something. I won’t, though. If I said I’d keep her out of my books, then I will. I’m very disappointed in her, but again, should I really be all that shocked? I have learned that the best thing to do is stop meeting new friends and just enjoy the old ones while they last. I can never know if Andy’s going to dump me next week, for example, or if Nane may get hit by a bus the next week.

I don’t just isolate myself because I don’t care for people in general, but remember, I actually like spending time alone. People have tried to make me feel wrong, guilty and “abnormal” for it, but do I feel these things for simply being the way I am? No, I don’t. If one is happy, why change things if they’re not hurting anyone?

I’m still surprised that Kathy dumped me over a lousy difference of opinion about God, and after I confided in her about some personal stuff I don’t tell just anyone. I really expected her to reply with something understanding, empathetic and encouraging, but I guess she doesn’t have much more empathy than Kim ever had. Then again, she has always seemed to be a totally spoiled little princess used to nothing but sunny days and good times, and when you’re one of those who gets everything you want, it’s hard to empathize with those who have had it rough. Hey, if my life had been half as easy and as happy as she’s made hers out to be, I just may think something up there loved me too, and it would be hard for me to believe God really does have it in for some folks. Folks who have prayed for help to no avail.

THURSDAY, MARCH 14, 2013 Had my Ask account open all day yesterday just to see what might come in, but nothing did. This gives me hope that Kim isn’t checking on me every day like she used to.

Molly made her usual few-second round to my two trackable blogs, and probably my trackless one as well this morning, no doubt looking for Alison’s name.

I still think Maliheh is ignoring my emails and planned all along to “slowly dump” me. I think she befriended me under false pretenses to keep her name out of my book, and that in her mind, if she either never befriended me, or dumped me as quick and as coldly as she did in MA, it would piss me off enough to bash her in print. But Nane just said she never got my email. So while my Hotmail account doesn’t always deliver my messages, my other account has at least stopped bouncing. So I sent Maliheh a message from there, rigged with a tracking code, to see if it gets picked up.

I’m also wondering if Alison’s friends with Kim again by the way she wrote something about continuing to be hurt by a friend on her wall. She’s also “liked” a fan account that happens to be a Glee character, a show I know Kim likes. Its ‘about’ section seems to smell of Kim too, with the way it’s worded. What a stupid mistake Alison’s making if I’m right, but hey, it’s her mistake to make. Just gotta be careful what I tell her, though, since she’s proven not to be as trustworthy as I once thought, and since I have no way to know if she was one of my former Ask trolls. I lied to her about the “Justin” account I briefly used. So if I can lie to her about that, she could lie to me about fucking with me.

Nane got in a fight with Askim last night. She said she still loves him and he is only the second person she ever loved, but he’s stubborn at times. I guess she still has trust issues too, saying it’s only been a couple of years, and reminding me that she was dumped by a guy she thought she knew after being with him for 16 years.

I jokingly said I’d put a spell on him to make him bald if he didn’t behave and Nane said he is bald, LOL. Ew! I could never dig a baldilocks.

Got a lovely letter from my Italian dad, sending Tom, the rats and me his regards. He says he can’t believe I’m 47 now, and how did I get so old? LOL, He also says he shouldn’t talk since he’s 84.

They’ve got 30 clients at the group home now, and Fred and his wife help run it since it’s a bit much for him to handle on his own.

He also says he’s sure mom (Anna) is watching over me. That’d be nice since not much else usually does. Maybe it’s just me, but as far as I’m concerned, no one should have to hear a neighbor that’s about a couple hundred feet away, right? Am I right or being unreasonable? Well, it doesn’t matter cuz either way I’m really getting sick of feeling like I’m living on a farm with all the loud vehicles I hear every single fucking day. Right now the damn cock is on the bulldozer, something he’s usually on for hours and that’s extremely loud.

It was a harsh reminder that no matter how far our neighbors are, we’ll always have to hear them no matter what and we’re always going to “happen” to get the extremes, so no, I don’t want the house we’ve had our eye on anymore. It needs too much work. Haven’t we lived like bums in dumps long enough? So if we’re going to get noisy neighbors no matter where they are, why not focus on the house itself and not the location it’s in? Besides, we deserve something nicer for a change.

When I was making the bed earlier, I asked myself that age-old question – how many more times am I going to have to change the bed here in this place? Oh, it’s quite a task, alright. I can barely walk around the thing and have very little space at the foot of it. looks upwards Yeah, if you’re up there, you bastard, you can curse me with shitty neighbors all my life, but you can’t keep us cramped in here forever.

That Jes pest just better not wait till my schedule shifts to finish the spraying. Really, if he wakes me up I’m going to let him have it and I don’t care how pissed he gets. I’m going to try to hold it as long as I can, though, not just because this is a hard place to sleep in warmer weather with flimsy walls and a funky cooling system, but so I can be available to go look at more places. That is if Tom can ever find the time for it. I really hope he gets the job he put in for cuz that’d free up some business hours, cut back the time he has to work, and pay more money.

OMG! I didn’t hear the dozer when there was a break in the music I was listening to. I doubt he’d quit that soon, so he’s probably just loading up on diesel or taking a lunch break. It would be silly for him to bulldoze the ruts out of the drive now because they say it’s to rain in a few days, not that I believe it.

But I do believe the word of a close friend. We wouldn’t be friends if I couldn’t. So if Andy says the onion has helped his sleep and health, then it has. I don’t expect it to be a cure-all for every ache, pain and condition I may have, but it’ll be interesting to see if after a week or so it makes any difference. If the experts still have no cure for my type of sleep disorder, then I don’t expect to discover one myself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wish, does it? Not sure why Tom got green onions instead of a regular onion, but so far I don’t notice anything different. I still woke up, though only once and only for a few minutes. It was weird because I had a headache, something I rarely get. I was fine when I got up, though. I burned a lot of incense before bed yesterday, which might’ve caused the headache (damn is Gonesh incense good!).

Set up the new cooling mattress pad which should help combat the overheating the memory foam topper causes.

Fucking mother fucking Windows programs!!! I gotta get used to the Mac word processors. I’m so sick of these fucking Windows programs and all the crashing they do! kicks desk

Sure enough, here goes the fucking dozer again.

Later…

Wow, Kathy has dumped me for having a difference of opinion about God. That’s what I suspect it was about anyway, based on my last message to her. I’m surprised, though otherwise indifferent. I thought she was more tolerant of those with different views, and I specifically told her that expressing my thoughts and beliefs didn’t mean I was trying to offend or change hers. Wonder if she’ll fuck with me now. I doubt it, but she has fucked with Molly, so we’ll see.

Where I’m indifferent is because I am used to it. So many people come and go in our lives that the older we get, the more accustomed we get to it, and the more I realize you can be dumped by anyone, even those you least expect.

Tom’s the only one I wouldn’t feel indifferent to at all. They say if you love someone enough you’ll let them go, and while I get what they’re saying, loving them so much is what makes it so hard to let them go. I could never simply shrug and say “Oh well,” at the thought of losing Tom under any circumstances, for to act indifferent about something like that probably means you are indifferent.

But life will go on. I can only express myself and go about chatting with the people in my circle as usual. How people take what I say is out of my control. For all I know I could offend someone simply by the color of the shirt I may wear in public. We can’t sweat things like that and all the possibilities in life unless we want to never say or do a damn thing but sit silently in some dark hole somewhere. Well, my door is closed to new friends (and past friends since those I forgive seem to think they can repeat their mistakes), I’m not about to crawl into some hole.

Gotta wonder who’s next, though. I’ve got two guesses as to who will dump me next. Nane or Aly, right?

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 13, 2013 Just when I wasn’t sure I’d hear from Walter, he let me know that the meeting with the CPA was long and that they asked for more info. I appreciate the hell out of him for all the work he’s doing and the time he’s put into this. I just hope to hell the taxes don’t end up sucking the hell out of whatever profit they end up with! Our lovely God doesn’t usually like to line things up in our favor, though, so I am at least glad to know that if I am left with nothing in the end, we can still carry on with our plans.

Tom is going to see if he can get the park paperwork going or if you have to have a specific home picked out first. Well, we have one picked out, but it’s only in our minds at this time and nothing official. Unlike Andy who agrees it’s ugly (he’ll change his mind on that once we fix it up if we get it), Nane likes it. Says it has a real Mediterranean look to it. We’re still a couple of weeks or so away from making an offer they may refuse. I still think it’s going to go by the weekend, but we’ll see.

Nane and I ended up chatting for hours yesterday! Sure enough, fucking Jesse, who had been buzzing and zooming about for hours, had to come down in the middle of it to tell me he was playing Round-Up. Said he’d be back in the morning around 10:00 to finish the spraying, too.

I’m kind of surprised Kim hasn’t left anonymous comments on my blog, but she, or maybe someone else, has been fucking with Molly on Ask. Sometimes I wonder just how “innocent” Adonis and Aly really are and if they could be behind any of the questions as well as ones I used to get. I tried to see if I could catch Adonis in a lie by asking if he’s ever commented on Molly’s blog or asked her questions on Ask, but instead of admitting he has, he just danced around the subject.

Maybe sometime soon, I’ll resurrect my Ask account without telling anyone, just to see who may stop by. Oh, what the hell? I’ll go do it now.

TUESDAY, MARCH 12, 2013 Wow, I’m coming up on 4000 entries on LJ!

Time for our daily net games which has become a regular morning ritual for us where our lovely providers shut us down for a half-hour or so. They do it in the evening, too.

Can’t wait to hurry up and get moved so I can then concentrate on getting the rest of my dental and medical needs taken care of. After my teeth and ear are dealt with, then I can try to find out why my body only responds to starvation and not diet. Although I still have no reason not to think I’m healthy, I have every reason to think my thyroid may be out of whack. If they could give me something to fix it so I could lose 20-30 pounds, I’m all for it so long as it doesn’t have nasty side effects. Otherwise, I’ll never diet again. Just exercise and be sure to not make a total pig of myself except for once a week.

Last night I had another big win dream. I won a trip to a luxury spa resort in Florida. It was actually part of a 3-package win. We’d already been to Florida once for something else, then some other place, and were scheduling our last trip to this spa in Florida. In the dream it was mid-January. I asked Tom if he’d called to book our flight out, and he said that the woman handling the trip and all that said we couldn’t fly out till the 30th because it was a huge resort and they were all booked up.

Tom said, “Ooh, that’s encouraging.” LOL, but he doesn’t say it’s discouraging when I have bad dreams yet they’re the ones more likely to come true.

In another dream (though I’m not sure I really did dream this) Tom got the job as a second shift lead and a two-dollar raise.

It seems no one wants to do the prayer experiment, but that’s fine. I still say it all comes down to fate. What’s meant to be will be no matter what we do. Do I think the job and house are meant to be? Hmm… I’d bet on the job before the house. When I saw the location of the house my first thought was that nothing up there would be so good to us as to let us have such a nice location. On the other hand, God does love to see me in old ugly places, so we’ll see.

You had to have been in the place and the park itself to see past its fugliness and fugly it is! The wallpaper in the kitchen could win The World’s Fugliest Wallpaper contest, and the wallpaper in the master bath could win the runner-up. If it weren’t for being in such a great park and such a great location within it, I probably wouldn’t consider it despite its size and nice layout. But as long as we don’t find out that it’s not structurally sound or has serious electrical or plumbing problems, ugly can be made pretty.

MONDAY, MARCH 11, 2013 Yesterday was a long and fun day! Again I was in awe of the fact that the very same people who were discussing what totally looked like the end without an ounce of hope, were now discussing the pros and cons of the house they just saw.

There was a double-wide for sale in our preferred park for 15K that was repossessed by the bank. Although we suspected it may be dumpy due to the lack of pictures, the location within the park seemed so ideal. So Tom called the realtor to see if he could stop by on Saturday. When she didn’t call back we assumed someone made an offer on the place. But yesterday morning he discovered a message with the realtor letting him know she’d be at the house at 10:00 to show others if we wanted to stop by at that time.

So a half-hour later we got dressed and headed for the place. I was impressed with what I saw when I got out of the car. The corner house wasn’t right on the street either in front or on the side. One side has a ditch, which as the realtor said, has been empty for a while since we haven’t had much rain in California for a couple of years now, and the other side was the neighbor. This place didn’t give me that claustrophobic feeling many parks give me. Between the spacing the hedges and trees that add great privacy, you still get a sense of privacy and seclusion, even though there are plenty of people around. The instant I stepped into the house I both loved it and hated it, LOL. I know this sounds funny as hell but it’s the nicest dump I ever saw! I loved the unique layout and the fact that it was 1800 square feet, which is almost too big for us, and I loved all the built-in shelves and cabinets in so many rooms, including the sunken living room which was probably bigger than the entire trailer I’m sitting in right now. But I hated the colors and the horrible condition it’s in and the thought of how much money and work it would take to fix it up.

It’s a 3-bedroom, 2-bath in which I could display what dolls I have left in my collection times 10. More so than our Maricopa house, in a sense, because that house didn’t have a built-in hutch or any other built-in shelves.

The kitchen itself is half this place and has the most hideous wallpaper I ever saw. The closets are enormous as are all the rooms, though the master bath doesn’t seem that big. Its garden tub needs to be resurfaced and is missing part of its flooring.

The carpet is in good condition but needs to be cleaned and stretched because it’s loose. It’s also a hideous color of brown/gold. Whoever lived there had my exact opposite tastes in color. Lots of brown and tan in there, and yes, even some of that dreaded paneling, since it’s a 1984 model. There are skylights in the kitchen and master bath, which is nice, though I don’t know why they’d put one over a bathroom.

I wished I could’ve taken pictures while I was there and of the park.

The catch is the roof. Yeah, that may hinder us from any chance of getting the place. It needs to be redone completely, including the one over the garage/storeroom, and so if anything stops us from getting the place, it will be that. Actually, I think what’s going to stop us is that someone’s going to get it first. I think that by next weekend it’ll be gone. It won’t be the end of the world if it is, since when you add up the costs of all the repairs, you may as well get a newer, nicer place that’ll let you take out a loan. They don’t usually do loans on older places that aren’t in good condition. Other than the roof and water damage done to some of the ceilings, it seems to be in good enough condition otherwise.

Another bad thing is that the previous owner gutted it. The range is still there, but they took the refrigerator, dishwasher, washer and dryer.

I almost slipped and told the realtor that our rats would love running around in something so big, haha.

When she prompted us to make an offer, I had to keep from laughing when Tom said that he’d have to ask our landlord the cost of certain things and materials since he was a construction worker. We really did laugh on the way back about hiring him to do some of the work. He’d probably love it too, being under the table and all that. We joked about “borrowing” his refrigerator too, till we got our own.

Seriously, though, I doubt we’ll have enough money accumulated before someone snags it, and why the fuck couldn’t the two-legged poodle have died a few months sooner?!

The combination double-car garage/storeroom is another 600 square feet. It’s weird that there’s no door between the two. It’s a separate structure from the house and it too, has its pros and cons. It’d be wonderful for not only storing things but for Tom to work on things he loves to work on and to be able to solder things without the smell waking me up if I were asleep. The negative is that it has no heating or cooling. He could use a portable heater in the winter, but those cost a fortune compared to central heating, and there’s no window to throw an AC in either. As I told him, if by some slim chance, we get this place, the garage/storeroom is all his to do what he wants with. He can even take the old exercise bike they left in back in there for all I care.

The place is 30 x 60. When you walk in the front door you’re sort of in the middle of the place. In front of you is the long living room. To your left are the dining, kitchen, and master bed/bath, and to your right are the other two bedrooms, bathroom and door leading to the back. Like I said, I loved and hated it, but know I could love and love it if it were fixed up nicely. If it weren’t for that damn roof! Still, the entire place needs quite a makeover, and we’d have to talk them down to around 5-10 grand to make it possibly affordable. I forget that he makes a lot of money and that just because we spend our savings getting into the place doesn’t mean that’s it. More money will be coming in! Although there’s always tons of work, I do worry about the possibility of a layoff, too. Better after we move, though, than before, since the monthly costs, after the place was fixed up, would be lower than what it is here.

The exterior of the house looks good. We even saw the little hatchway you open to get to the crawl space underneath. I was wondering how they got under there. One of the living room windows is cracked, but they are dual-paned.

Again, I just loved it, but it would need sooo much work! It sure would keep me busy for a while. Almost everything needs to be redone. It would probably take me weeks just to clean it, LOL. But everything would need to be done and bought from top to bottom – the roof, the ceiling, the walls, the appliances…

Saw another slightly newer one (just the outside) two houses from the lake going for 24K. The view would be beyond spectacular, though I’d rather the more private location than the spectacular view. Ducks were floating about in the lake, though the 3 fountains were off.

I worried that a lakeside house would not only be more expensive, but bring about more noise and people, but I don’t think it would. It’s not the kind of lake people swim in or even sunbathe by. It’s just something pretty to look at as you pass by it, though the beautiful dump isn’t close to the lake or pool.

Although the realtor said the bank told her to get the place sold as fast as she could, I don’t think we’ll get it. Having the roof done would cost close to an additional grand, from what Tom researched, though the government does pay for people to install solar roofing, and there is a possibility of getting Home Depot to finance it. We’d probably have someone else do it. Tom could do it. He did our Phoenix roof. But the guy has no free time. I could do the walls and some of the ceiling work.

In a house and location like this, who knows, maybe we won’t want to move to Florida when he retires. I want to move into wherever we end up with the attitude of 10 years to forever. If we’re happy enough where we end up, though, we may not want to chance giving it up. After all, the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. Only time will tell if all those Florida dreams I had were just a reflection of what was on my mind at the time or a glimpse into the future.

Despite the tremendous costs of just the repairs and the fact that I usually like new places, it’s hard not to picture myself in this house, in this park, and in the ideal location within it, painting the walls, then taking a break to jump on my bike for a ride around the lake. Wallpapering or decorating later on, then hitting the bike again for a relaxing break in the pool…

Then it was back to reality. Back to the Jes pest buzzing around on its ATV and feeling like we entered a human rat tube when we stepped in here after being in such a cavernous place. Here we have 7-foot level ceilings, their vaulted ceilings that go as high as 9-10 feet.

From here on out, it’s in fate’s hands. If it’s meant to be, it will be, but I don’t think it is. The next people to see it were construction workers. Well, this house would be every fixer-upper’s dream.

I want to try a prayer experiment and I’d like to ask anyone who reads this that believes in prayer to help. I realized that just because I believe something doesn’t mean it’s true. Maybe it’s not that prayer is a bunch of wishful thinking like I believe. Maybe it’s me. If God hates me as much as He seems to, then He’s not likely to grant my prayers. But maybe – just maybe – if someone else prays for me, He’ll listen to them. If not, then He either didn’t listen to you because it was me you prayed for, or yeah, prayer really is a bunch of bunk.

So here’s what I want you to do. It’s simple. Just pray that we get this house, and pray that Tom gets the job he’s applying for where he works. I’ll explain more about that in my next entry, as this one’s already outrageously long. Thanks in advance to whoever participates in this little experiment of mine. I just figured that just because prayer doesn’t work for me, maybe it will for others. It’s sort of like with other things. Just because you can’t learn Hawaiian doesn’t mean I can’t, and just because you can run 20 miles doesn’t mean I can.

Thanks in advance, and do let me know if you’re praying for us! I will allow for anonymous comments on OD and MO for a day or two. Hopefully, the spammers and scammers won’t be a problem in the meantime.

Later…

I always use the rats’ burrow to prop their cage door open when I go to let them out to have fun running around. Both rats were at the door twirling and jumping in excited anticipation of being let out. Then Sugar ran across the cage and pushed the burrow over by the door, knowing I’d use it to prop the door open. If that isn’t a little genius of a furball, I don’t know what is.

Can’t wait to try Andy’s onion experiment and see if leaving a few slices of onions around really does help with sleep and energy. It’s bad enough I can’t keep a schedule, and even worse when you don’t get solid sleep. I seem to be waking up more and more throughout the night. Or day. The memory foam also continues to cause me to overheat in my sleep, so we ordered a cooling mattress pad commonly used by menopausal women with hot flashes. That cost $139.

Meanwhile, I’m also doing a hip experiment. I’m still not sure if the on-and-off pain I get there is arthritis, not being active enough, or both. I do slack off with the exercising at times. I noticed they were sore the day after I had my serial tonometry done and was out walking and shopping all day. But the 40-minute walk, plus stretching, plus arm and ab work I did today hasn’t left me sore. We’ll see how I wake up tomorrow.

So there are 3 experiments going on – prayers, hips, and onions, though I haven’t gotten around to getting the onion yet, and so far no one’s offered to pray to God and see if they can “trick” Him into answering prayers for us to get the house we saw yesterday and the job for Tom. The job would be as a second shift lead. They’re taking apps through Tuesday. We know it would pay more, but how much more we don’t know. They never tell you that cuz that’s their way of seeing who really wants the job. If he gets the job and then for some reason decides to turn it down, he worries that may hurt him in the future. He’s going to be let go or laid off sooner or later because that’s what most jobs eventually do, fair or not. I just hope that when the job does end, it’s not for another year or two.

Sleeping with the sound machine was no problem yesterday. I realize that no matter what I blast in here, I’m always going to feel and hear a bit of a rumble when the Jes pest comes and goes on its many loud vehicles, in this flimsy little place with its 2” walls and an equally thin tin roof. And whoever’s stay with him. Tom said he thinks I’m right about someone staying with him cuz he’s been parking further down the hill. I know I’m right. Those dogs are too quiet. They never bark when someone’s home unless someone goes up there. Whoever it is is there all the time and I hope they stay there as long as we’re still here. If it were a case of only the weekend overnight barking sprees stopping I would think the Jes pest quit running out to get laid at those times. But because it’s also quiet in the daytime when he comes and goes, that tells me that someone’s there. If I remember correctly, his mom is dead and his dad is in his 90s. Maybe he took his dad in.

Cindy is getting on my nerves by using my Facebook posts to say hi and chat with others who comment on my posts. Can’t she go to their walls and say hi there or send them a PM?

Did yet another little experiment, and along with whoever’s playing with Molly on Ask (Adonis?) I said I was Kim and asked how she was doing, just to see if Kim would jump in and insist that wasn’t her. She never did. Again I wonder just how many others besides Kim were behind some of the shit I used to get there.

SUNDAY, MARCH 10, 2013 Again I got a little strange in my sleep. Twice I took the notebook I keep by the bed and moved it, though this time I didn’t tear pages out of it. I just placed it on the bed. What is it with me and that little notebook in my sleep? Was I dreaming of writing at the time?

I was reading a story on Facebook about a woman whose daughter was murdered by her ex. She called it God’s will. If that’s God’s “will,” then that’s even more reason for me to dislike anyone who could “will” an innocent child to be brutally murdered.

As I proofread old journals there are so many unanswered prayers throughout them. Just so, so many. Reasonable prayers that weren’t off the wall like asking to fly or to grow money trees would be. It’s too bad prayer is a bunch of bunk because then I’d pray for more rain. Jesse hasn’t been too bad lately, though not a day goes by that I don’t hear something from him, but by 9am yesterday, they were already sawing in back.

I’m going to do a test and replace the white noise I’ve been sleeping with on the stereo with one of the newer sound machines. I want to see if it will drown out certain sounds (hopefully it won’t jinx the weekend nighttime barking into starting back up again). I think it will drown out our outrageously loud microwave, but I’m not so sure about things like motorcycles, planes and other loud vehicles. I want to know before we move whether or not I should set up the stereo for sleeping or the sound machine at the new place. If I can’t sleep through the motorcycle with the regular sound machine, then I probably won’t be able to sleep through trash, delivery and service trucks in the park with it either. This is what I want to find out in advance.

I’m also going to do a meatball test in half an hour and Andy’s onion test next week since we already did our grocery shopping for the week. Yesterday I had a burn in my throat after having some meatballs that may’ve been heartburn. Greasy foods are said to be a possible cause for that, so I want to see if it burns again after I have the ones I’m cooking now.

Andy said he placed bowls of sliced onions throughout his place to absorb odors and noticed a week later that his own heartburn was gone, he’s sleeping better, has more energy, and feels better overall. Like me, he wakes up several times throughout the night and says he hasn’t done that with the onions hanging around. He changes them every few days as they dry up and that the place won’t smell like onions or make you cry.

As Tom reminded me, we have money and can afford extras. Extras like real language learning software that contains full-blown courses one usually has to pay to take. Livemocha free programs aren’t as complete as some of the software sold by companies like Rosetta Stone, Rocket, etc. Sometime after the move, I’m going to get one for fun, but I don’t know which language. I’d like to get Hawaiian, but that’s hard to find. Therefore I’ll have to decide if I want to perfect one of my speaker languages, reader languages, or start a whole new one from scratch. My speaker languages are Spanish, Italian and German. My reading languages are Portuguese, Esperanto and French.

I have felt better since removing myself from cyber society without removing myself. Meaning that I’m no longer as easy to contact or befriend and am no longer open to new friends, but have hung onto those who are already in my circle.

Despite not being very fond of a few groups in general who have caused me and others so much pain, I never saw the point in not being polite and even friendly to an individual from one of these questionable groups who had never done anything wrong to me personally. I loved meeting new people from all different walks of life all over the world. It was fun and interesting for a while. The best part was that it was all done online making it easier for one to avoid those that go wacko, as opposed to those you may have issues with that you have to either live or work with.

While I am no longer accepting new buddies after dealing with my share of trolls, stalkers, rude assholes, hypocrites and other fucktards, I will be polite but not friendly, same as I would with people in person. I don’t mind chatting with someone I may meet at the pool if the park we move to has one, but I don’t plan to visit them or have them visit me for coffee. It’s safer and easier that way, and well, I just don’t want potential trouble so close to home.

I don’t feel wrong, sorry or guilty for living like I do or for leaving sites like Ask and making myself less accessible to what could be more trouble or more good friends. I don’t care who may decide I am “abnormal” or just not right in the head either. I’m happier this way and if something makes me happy, that’s all that matters. Not whether or not someone thinks it’s right or wrong. Presently, I have enough friends and there are only so many hours in a day and so many people one can be a friend to anyway.

Even Andy’s sick of Ask. We use FS as a means of keeping in touch and sharing pics rather than to see who asks us what.

Molly’s still the same old sad sorry self. She hates Marbridge, the people there tell on her, and she wants to go home. Her parents said she couldn’t come home till she has a full-time job, which she feels the chances of getting are slim. Well, I sure hope so! Full-time job or not, as soon as she’s out of there she’s going to be online more. Then again, she can’t get a hold of me that easily, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

What a fucking hypocrite, though, saying she “doesn’t mention her former friends in her blog anymore.” But what do you call that? That’s mentioning them. Or is she just too stupid to know it?

Someone’s fucking with her on Ask. Not on her blog lately because they can’t leave comments there. I don’t know if this is something she set up or a glitch, but I’d say it’s a glitch. My first guess is Kim, of course, but I also wonder about Alison, Adonis, Kathy and others she’s fucked with along the way.

SATURDAY, MARCH 9, 2013 Getting really sick of these “critical” updates from Microsoft. But I use Word for Mac and since it’s a Windows program it’s at risk for all kinds of bugs and viruses and needs constant updating to help safeguard things. It’s just that I can’t get used to the Mac’s word processor. I wish I could, but the word processor is what I use most and change is easier to adapt to when it’s not something I use as much.

I really REALLY am getting sick of being called a liar. No matter how you say it – you’re a liar, I don’t believe you, you’re not being honest – it all equals “You’re a liar.” So spare me the “But I’m only implying you are, so it doesn’t count if I’m not being direct” bullshit. It DOES count! Do you know how insulting it is to be a good friend to someone for years just to be told I’m “probably joking” about my ear? I’ve been a good friend to these people. I’ve listened to them, I’ve been there for them, and this is what I get for it?!?! Well, I don’t need people like this in my life. Really, I’m totally being pushed to my limits with those with trust issues! I’m tired of explaining and defending myself. I’m tired of holding people’s hands and babysitting their emotions just because this one did that to them and that one did this to them. Well, I’M not THEM! I’m sorry if you’ve been so hurt that you feel the whole world is lying to you, but I’m not going to deal with it anymore. I have more important things to focus my energy on than getting you to see that I’m not fucking with you. And why is it always my physical shortcomings people have such a hard time accepting and believing? Why not call me a liar and say I don’t know Spanish? Or why not tell me I’m lying about us doing well financially and insist that the real reason we’re still here isn’t that we want to take our time and do it right when finding a new place, but because we’re still poor? Hey, why not? Nothing else I say seems to be believable, so why not branch out beyond physical stuff? Hey, I don’t have rats. I really have dogs, right?

Every few months or so I have to go through the same old shit with people, but guess what? Next time you might lose me. Ever thought of that possibility? One can only be called a liar, directly or not, so many times before they get fed up. Who the hell wouldn’t?

First I was impatient. Then I was annoyed. Now I’m pissed. If Walter was supposed to meet with the CPA yesterday like he said, then why hasn’t he emailed me? Each week that goes by without seeing any money makes me more suspicious, though I don’t know why anyone would bullshit me about something like this. Dureen’s final insult to me? But why put it in print if you’re just playing around? Well, I don’t think Walter’s playing around, but I sure wonder if others are.

So, since we’re almost certainly not going to see any money in this case, we’ll get a place on our own with our own money. I’m used to money teases and I pretty much figured I’d never get anything, so it’s ok. We don’t need Dureen. We don’t need God. All we need is each other and we have that.

Tom has a tough dilemma facing him at work. There’s a new job opening for second shift that would pay more money, but it’s for a lead. Well, he doesn’t want to lead. He got tired of all the years he spent leading, bossing and managing this and that. He just doesn’t care to tell people what to do. So that and the fact that they’ve already announced that they’re not going to give any more raises this year for those who remain in their current positions are the two negatives. But more money is always nice, though not important cuz he already makes enough. If you’ve got enough to live on, it doesn’t really matter if you make 40K a year or 400K a year; they’re both enough. The biggest appeal is the shift. On second or third shift you can do more things during business hours, like driving your wife to doctors and dentists before she can take the bus to them or ride her bike. You can also look for a new house.

There’s a 1984 model that looks appealing due to its location within our favorite park, though a part of me is hoping for a '90s house cuz then it’s just that - a house. A regular everyday house that sits on a steel frame. The pre-90s homes aren’t quite built like a typical house. I’m in a 1996 model now, though I don’t feel like I’m in a trailer. It feels more like I’m in a cottage, though a trailer is exactly what this is.

Every few years or so I check out places I’ve lived in on Google Maps. They painted the dump we rented in Oregon a hideous brown color, instead of the pale yellow it used to be. It needed it, though. The paint was peeling horribly when we were there. Wonder if they leveled the place. I doubt it. They had just done the attic and said that leveling it at that point would cause more damage.

I’m so glad we’re not there now with what I saw next door. To the left of the place is a large yard belonging to another rental. There was a trampoline right against the fence dividing the properties, closer to our place than theirs. I used to hate that and wonder why things always had to go next to us. People loved to place things like swing sets as close to our place as they possibly could.

There are still 5 rentals behind our old place in Maricopa, but the investor never did add houses to the 10 acres we had. They added a lot of shit to the side of the house, but I can’t tell what it is. As always, though, it’s the closest they can get to their closest neighbor, yet there’s much more space in back and to the other side.

The Phoenix house is practically invisible with the way they’ve got it so treed up these days, and next door where the welfare bums lived was completely barren instead of the usual trash and 3 or more cars that would often be parked in the driveway as well as in front of the place. There was nothing in front, nothing in the driveway, nothing anywhere. It was probably vacant at the time the picture was taken.

No voice messages from Tammy today. It’s funny how foreign she’s come to sound since I haven’t heard the northeastern accent regularly for nearly 21 years.

FRIDAY, MARCH 8, 2013 Are any other non-American Indian people as offended as I am over the term Native American? Nothing against Indian folks, but I was born and raised in America. I’m just as “native” as they are! And no, where my ancestors originated from doesn’t count. It only speaks for them, not for me.

The fucking Kindle holder broke yesterday and I don’t think it’s fixable. So we’ll send it back and get a refund. I’ll just hold the damn Kindle. It hasn’t killed me yet.

I was just sitting here thinking of Nane and she really is hard to figure at times. Sometimes I think she really cares about me, other times I think she doesn’t, and other times I’m just not sure what to think.

I deleted C on Facebook because he deleted me a long time ago. Why, I do not know. Maybe he read something in my journal he didn’t like. Either way, you know how I feel about one-sided relationships. They’re just not my thing.

This is the longest dry spell I’ve had as far as storywriting goes. Once I get all the old journals posted, then maybe I’ll be able to focus on that some more.

Andy has become like Kim lately with the role-playing. He’s pretending to be a racist black guy on Ask and said that he’s learning that I’m right. No one cares when it’s blacks against whites, but as soon as it’s the other way around EVERYONE cares.

I know I’m right, I told him. I wouldn’t kid him about that. I see it all the time. I just wonder when something is going to be done about the reverse discrimination going on in this country.

Nancy still doesn’t appear to have returned to my journal or mentioned me on Facebook, but that’s ok. I already did what I wanted to do and that was to share the link to the journals she was in. Is she really suddenly not interested in reading the rest of the entries? Did she return undercover? Or is she up to something bad? Well, she can forget any form of legal revenge for daring to exercise my right to speak my mind. I haven’t used full names, made any threats, or done anything wrong.

For years I was afraid to express myself after I was railroaded in Arizona, but then it hit me and I said to myself, “Hey, you have every right to express yourself. You have just as much right as any other human being to do what you’re doing.” So no, I won’t be temporarily silenced or punished or spited, and I refuse to allow my rights to be violated ever again.

No one can please everyone with their words and no one can agree all the time. I accept and understand that. Besides, no one is ever forced to read my stuff.

THURSDAY, MARCH 7, 2013 2012 – Two dead parents, a brother, and a foster mother.

2013 – A seriously ill sister who has to have her husband pick up her messages, a mysterious and unexplainable case of ocular hypertension that could bring me future trouble, and now a cousin who’s very lucky to be alive.

sighs with sadness My cousin Sharyn was hit by a cab the other day in New York and has multiple fractures. If breaking an arm was the sheer agony it was for me 30 years ago, then I’d hate to think of what she must be feeling with two broken legs and a broken collarbone! :( I hope the doctors and nurses in the hospital she’s in are doing their best to keep her as comfortable as possible.

Since I don’t believe in prayer I can only hope that she makes the swiftest recovery possible. As I’ve said before, if we could simply ask God for whatever we wanted, no one would want anything because they would have it all. I think what’s fated to be will be whether we ask for it or not, and no, I don’t believe that God “listened but had other plans for us instead.” It was still not meant to be and we still don’t always get what we ask for whether or not there were “other plans” for us as well. Unless God simply answers some of us and not all of us much like He favors some people over others, if your prayer appears to be answered I think it was just a coincidence and that things would’ve played out the same way had you not asked for what you wanted, if you were meant to have it in the first place.

So my thoughts and high hopes are with Sharyn for a speedy recovery!

Got my new Kindle holder and seat covers for my office chair. They’re much nicer looking and much smoother to the touch than the dark gray wooly fabric underneath. The Kindle holder doesn’t grab the edge of the headboard shelf as snuggly as we’d like because of its rounded edge, but it’s clamped on well enough.

Gotta work out and do some laundry before getting to the day’s writing and proofreading ritual, but first, I’m being extra careful with writing about dreams I have of others as I can’t always know what’s true or what may come true.

Two nights ago I dreamed of telling my mother about attending a cyber friend’s birthday party that was turning 30 (he’s really 19), and the way he laughed at how the previous year a female friend had called him and screamed, “Happy birthdaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy!” My mother was bored as hell with the story like she would be in real life.

Then I dreamed that Bob was dying of lung cancer (he really did die of that in 2005) and I was with him in the prison hospital, only they kept calling him Art. I know it was Bob, though. I gazed at him sadly, wishing we could go out for coffee and chat like old times.

The best dream was last night. Well, I actually fell asleep around noon, then was awakened at 5:00 when the propaners came. The propane tank is right by the bedroom wall and the rumbling of the big truck was pretty loud through these flimsy walls. I was up for a couple of hours, then fell back asleep and had a dream that Nane visited. We were sitting at a small round table in a café. I don’t know if anyone came to Cali with her or where Tom was at the time, but she looked very happy to see me and had a very content and relaxed look about her. She eyed me in a loving sort of way and I reached across the table, placed a hand on her forearm, and said, “Wow, I can’t believe I can actually reach across a table and touch you.”

That’s all I said in the dream. She never said anything as the dream only lasted a split second. Her eye color was a bit off, though, and her hair was parted in the middle instead of the side. Another thing that seemed all wrong was the heavy winter coat she wore, but she was definitely visiting me and not the other way around.

Later…

Not much to update on. I woke up a whole 5 hours earlier than yesterday, something my schedule doesn’t usually do, but I feel rested enough. I slept forever the day before, so that’s probably why. Had more dreams of Nane but can’t remember them. Why is she in my dreams so often?

I really like this Atheist and Rational Thinkers page I found on Facebook and I agree with most of what they say. I got a kick out of a post about laughing at a kid who believes in Santa while they’re 50 and believing in God. I never did, however, see a problem with what one believes. It’s people’s actions that get a little scary at times. If you want to believe you can fly, fine, but please don’t run off of a rooftop with your arms spread! The poor innocent soul you may land on doesn’t need to suffer on account of your fantasies and stupidity.

Our 4 hours of rain is long over and soon it will be back in the 70s. Gonna have to get the cooler set up and ready to go soon enough.

Tom still thinks we’ll pick out a place in April and move in May. Yeah, right. I still think that whatever’s up there (and I still do believe there’s something up there both good and evil depending on who you are and if you’re on its shit list or not) will keep the delays going. Credit, money… there’ll be sure to be something, though we should be getting pretty damn close to our favorite park’s magic numbers. As for money, if I don’t get anything from my parents real soon, then we’re obviously on our own to save up anything else we may need or see if we can qualify for a loan.

Regardless of credit and money, we both agree we want to wait to go where we really want to go than go where we either don’t want to go or would at least prefer not to go. I want to be full of excitement when we move, not doubts and worries. It’s going to take time to get used to anyway, suddenly being so close to so many people after being out in the wilderness for half a decade, but still, I don’t want to go into something feeling like we probably made a mistake. So… I’m guessing we’ll be here until the fall or winter.

Left the treadmill down when I let the rats out to play. Sure enough, they were like, ooh, a new toy to climb! So I had to fold it back up. Those little devils are like 2-year-olds! Won’t stay out of anything.

God - a concept created to trick ourselves into believing something up there actually gives a damn amidst war, poverty, natural disasters and violence.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 6, 2013 Nancy spent a half-hour on my blog last night, then another half-hour this morning. She checked out the first 4 of the dozen links to old entries pertaining to her, but I was surprised to find she hadn’t returned when I got up at 7pm. I can’t believe she would decide not to check out the rest of it, so could she be viewing me undetected?

It was so funny cuz after I’d see her read an entry, I would turn around and mark it private. That way if she returned to them she’d wonder where the hell they went. I can’t swear the person who spent an hour on my blog was Nancy, but who else would it be? Also, if both sisters live in Indiana, why did one come up as being in Michigan while the other was in Illinois? They must be very close to where the borders of Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin and Indiana almost meet.

I unblocked them curious to see if they wrote anything about me on their walls. I didn’t see anything. I was, however, surprised to see the links I put on the sister’s wall still there. I deleted them for the hell of it, but I don’t think that deletes them from her POV.

Since it’s all a matter of public info, though I won’t share any links even though there were share options available, I saw that Nancy only got a year for assault and not the 3-8 she feared she’d get. This kind of pisses me off. That’s just 6 more months than I got for a fictitious letter. How the hell do you get off in just a year for assaulting a cop anyway?

She got in trouble in 2007 too, for trafficking a controlled substance. It was her first offense for that one, I guess. This was in New Mexico. Her general info and her PO were listed, but then it just said, “discharged.” How do you get “discharged” from trafficking???

Got a 5-minute VM from Tammy. LOL, on the phone she’s like I am in print. She talks, I write. Her message was a mixture of sad and funny. It was funny because Mark, who’s been picking up her messages while she’s been sick, was confused by my saying that I hope to get the “poodle’s” money soon (Walter’s meeting with a CPA soon but doesn’t yet know how much income tax will be due). I’ve been referring to Dad as the enabler and Mom as the poodle since those were what she favored most in life, and as Tammy said, a female poodle is a bitch and Mom was a bitch after all.

What’s sad is that she’s still sick and no one knows why. Tom and I hope and believe that sooner or later they’ll stumble onto whatever it is and be able to treat it. Maybe not cure it, but make it more livable.

She said that they were all sitting at the table in Longmeadow talking after I jumped out the window and she assured them that if they sent me to one more place – just one more – she’d see to it that she got me the hell out of there. She apologized for not realizing just what was going on and all that and not being there, but as I told her, I felt bad that she felt so left in the dark and helpless as to my situation back then, but please, please don’t! She had her own shit to deal with at the time to be bothering with me. I guess it’s only natural for one to feel that way about their little sister once they grow older, smarter and more mature and are able to look back and see the big picture that they couldn’t see before. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but one day in my 20s it hit me and I said to myself, “What the hell were those fucking parents of mine thinking by sending me back to a place I had just killed myself trying to escape?!”

What really burned me up was those saying I jumped just for attention, and I was like, yo, hello folks, isn’t a 20-foot drop a bit risky for “attention?” But you know how the attitudes were back then. Sometimes it still is, but not as bad as the 80s. Nothing I did be it jumping, cutting, starving or popping pills was for attention. Those aren’t the kinds of things kids do for attention. No one throws themselves out a window for attention any more than they would if they were happy and in great spirits. In truth, I actually wasn’t thinking, “I’m going to kill myself or I’m going to do this, this or that.” I just panicked. I’ll never forget that day. I remember April 12th, 1983 like it was just yesterday. It was just horrible. I knew I was going to do something stupid, something I couldn’t help, and something I would regret. I had the fleeting thought of reaching out to someone there but knew it wouldn’t do me any good. Next thing I know, I’m on the dresser, the screen’s yanked out, and down I go. I’d be dead or had a lot more than a broken arm if there hadn’t been an overhang about 8’ down. It helped break and slow down my fall a bit, but I will never forget the moment I hit the ground. The breath was literally knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe for a good 30 seconds or so, then I started screaming. I even remember little details – the yellow curtain billowing out the window in the breeze, losing my beaded necklace and one shoe… I remember the way they ordered me not to move and put the neck brace on me as they placed me on the board and all that shit.

It was just as bad going back there a few weeks later what with how I was ostracized and made to feel ashamed for my actions instead of helped and supported. Know the first thing out of the bitch’s mouth when it came to see me in the hospital? “Try it again. Maybe you’ll succeed next time.”

No joke. True story.

I didn’t know about that discussion they had in Longmeadow. I thanked her for sticking up for me. They really were obsessed with the idea of shipping me off to all kinds of places – camps, funny farms, foster homes, schools run like prisons – am I missing anything? Oh, yeah, about a year or two after I went out on my own they wanted to get me into some kind of group home down in Florida. Gotta wonder what the hell went through their minds. Was it just funny to them? Or did they really think I was just that fucked in the head?

TUESDAY, MARCH 5, 2013 I was thinking more about Nancy, and like it or not I still have mixed emotions about the whole thing. Threatening to yank someone off their bunk and beat them up simply because you’re having a bad day is no laughing matter. I was first scared and then very angry. Still am, in some ways, because I never received an apology, though at the same time, I understand that jail has a way of causing you to lose touch with reality and not be very rational.

Nancy was bigger and stronger than me. I was scared. There’s no saying what she might’ve done to me had the detention officer not passed by when she did. Nancy’s one of those that no matter how fit I could become, she could probably always kick my ass. Maybe she was bluffing and just blowing off steam. But if she could attack a cop she could have attacked me. I knew it and I think she knew it, too.

Then she demanded I hand my jailhouse journal over to her or else! Well, here they are Nancy, if you ever read this. Do I hate you now 12 years after the fact? No, I don’t. I saw the good in you as well as the bad. I will admit that the thought of you reading the journals online where anyone could see them was amusing at first. I know, I know, kinda childish, but hey, even I’m not perfect. But maybe you will learn something from these words.

If you had attacked me, I’d probably have been defenseless and you’d probably have gotten away with it thanks to our fucked up laws and twisted God above. But just because I couldn’t fight back with my hands doesn’t mean I can’t with words, and I have, even if they can’t harm you. I don’t want them to harm you. Harming you isn’t the point or my goal. But again, maybe the lesson to be learned is that the past really can come back to haunt us in ways we least expect, for neither of us could have foreseen the internet becoming what it is today. Maybe you’ll never read this, maybe you will. Maybe if you do you’ll laugh or maybe you’ll be pissed or maybe you’ll feel a tinge of guilt for threatening someone half your size and strength. How you take these words is up to you.

Your sister said I used your last name, but I did a universal blog search as well as an individual blog search and I don’t see it. If you can figure out how to message me (I can no longer see into your accounts and don’t know if you have me blocked or it’s a glitch or even if your sister got my reply) send me the link to the blog your last name is supposedly in and I will remove it.

MONDAY, MARCH 4, 2013 Another shorts and T-shirt day, though that’s going to change soon enough. We’ve got some rain and cooler temps headed our way. By the weekend it should be nice again.

Tomorrow or the next day the propane people will be delivering 100 gallons of propane for $233 so I can expect a wake-up call since I’m on nights. I don’t have to go out to them, though. We leave the money order under the tank’s cap.

After I exchanged messages with Andy, we were both glad to have things back to normal between us. I just wish he’d be a little more trusting. I need to better my communication skills, too. Oh, the people who misunderstand me and bring up seemingly unrelated subjects to the main issue! But sometimes I write so fast that I use a poor choice of words, and sometimes our definitions of a word can be slightly different.

Meanwhile, I don’t judge people for the way they live their lives, be it by choice or by circumstance and I expect the same in return. You can disagree with me, but you can’t try to change me or try to tell me I’m wrong for my ways, because what’s right for one may not be right for another. Unlike my online life, I have an anti-social life and that is not only a combination of choice and location, but it is my right and my prerogative. :) However, while I will still be cautious as I don’t like the idea of trouble so close to home, I’m looking forward to being out and about more once we’re in the city where there’ll be clubhouses, pools and other things in our park, and places to bike ride to. We used to go biking a lot in Oregon and we both miss it. Because Tom had a 6-minute walk to work, we chose not to license the truck we had up there when it expired because we could walk everywhere we needed to go. Occasionally we took the bus to places like to get a new rat. I remember the day we brought Tinkerbelle home (she’s still the best rat we ever had), and laughed to myself when I looked around me at my fellow passengers and thought, “If only they knew what was in this box!”

Chatted briefly with Nane and more than briefly with Mary. It is so nice to see how far she’s come so fast after being held back for so damn long.

We can be addicted to anything. Anything. Sex, drugs, coffee, candy, TV, porn, gambling, and even languages. Well, I wish I didn’t have such a language addiction and could just focus on Spanish only. This may be hard for those who aren’t into languages to understand, but the various languages tend to “compete” with each other in our minds. When translating a sentence to Spanish either in my mind or out loud, sometimes the German or Italian word for whatever will jump into mind before the Spanish does. When it comes to the word thank you, I like the word danke better than gracias or grazie, and sometimes I’ll tell a Hispanic or Italian person danke without realizing it.

Still worried about Tammy. She left a message saying she was on oxygen 24/7, has massive inflammation they can’t figure out, and extremely high blood sugar to the point where she’s in danger of going comatose.

I emailed Walter to ask if he had any updates for me and haven’t gotten a reply. I’d hate to think anyone’s playing with me, though it hasn’t quite been a month since he said he thinks he can issue a partial payment, so we’ll see.

Looks like Molly’s current fixation to stalk is a guy at her group home. There’s a no-dating rule there, and he’s also not interested in her from the way she’s whined in her blog that he hugs other girls but never her. I feel sorry for this guy, Alan, but am glad that Marbridge and Alan are keeping her busy and hogging up most of her attention. She still peeks in on me, and Kim, of course, is still flying under radar. Someone asked Molly how she was and how her mother was doing. I smell Kim behind that one, but who knows for sure? Maybe she’s not even following me every day, but if I had to guess, she tunes in several times a day. What else does one with no life have to do? She literally has zero responsibilities. No chores, no online job, no out-of-the-house job, no lover, no nothing. She doesn’t work out either. Her whole life is nothing but food and computers. The only thing she’s ever mentioned outside of those two things is TV.

Later…

LMAO! Just friended Nancy’s sister Tammy, got accepted, and dropped the links on her wall. I explained that I couldn’t get through to Nancy, and asked that she pass the links on to her. I then unfriended her, since as I admitted to her, I only friended her to float the links. I’ll re-add her if she’d like, though. Neither Tammy nor Nancy has gotten my messages. I’m surprised the friend request went through.

What I didn’t tell her was that I didn’t want to add Nancy for fear of her leaving nasty comments and threats on my wall after she checked out the links. Someone in Michigan (both sisters live in Indiana) checked out one of the links. I hope Tammy doesn’t delete them before giving them to Nancy, and I hope she even bothers to in the first place.

Just got a reply from Tammy (so she’s in MI) saying she’ll give Nancy the links, but that I should’ve asked Nancy before publishing these journals, and do I know that I used her last and middle name?

No, I don’t. Although I’m within my legal rights, I’m big on not using full names or other sensitive info. I ran and checked and A, I did not use her last name, and B, I never knew her middle name. I know her nickname, but I thought it was just that, a nickname. Could that really be her middle name?

Anyway, I blocked their accounts cuz I don’t want to deal with them anymore. The idea was to piss Nancy off by publishing the journals she always wanted to read in the first place after she scared the shit out of me and made my life unpleasant for a while. I think they call it karma.

Tammy also explained that Nancy had a lot of problems in the past and went through foster care as a kid and was basically parted from her family. I told her I understood that no one’s perfect. I too, had problems in the past, went through foster care, and didn’t speak to my family for a decade. It’s no excuse for the way she threatened and scared the shit out of me in 2001, but it’s in the past and I don’t hold it against her. I know jail is a tough place to be, and had it not been for her being the tougher one, maybe I’d have kicked her ass and would still be locked up for it.

Meanwhile, I don’t mean to offend anyone. I’m only giving the links to Nancy because she herself demanded to read my journal once upon a time. Well, here it is. I think she may actually get a kick out of some of it all these years later.

I didn’t have only bad things to say about her, as you can see if you scroll down this page.

Anyway, I wish her and her family the best.

SUNDAY, MARCH 3, 2013 Waking up to find Andy saying he still thinks I’m lying about needing eye treatment since I said I wasn’t going back to the doctor no matter what (along with yet another gross, perverted picture he knows I’d rather not see), really annoys the fuck out of me. First I’m playing up a supposed sleep disorder and now I’m downplaying eye issues? I thought he was over his trust issues. Yet he thinks I’m just saying everything’s ok to avoid being lectured about it.

Maybe our friendship isn’t what I thought it was. Better yet maybe it’s not what he thought it was and maybe he needs to find “better” friends that he feels he can trust. Really, if you can’t trust me and you can’t respect my wishes, then why bother?

It’s easy to say we’re not going to go back to wherever or that we’re not going to deal with whatever, but who in their right mind would choose blindness over not going to the doctor if it was truly necessary? Not me!

He said that I said I wasn’t going to discuss medical issues anymore, and yes, I did say that a while back. Perhaps he missed my later entry about realizing that no matter what I say, if people want to lecture me or call me a liar or insist I’m wrong about something, they will. Seriously, if someone wants to hassle me for choosing a leopard print chair cover to cover the rough fabric of my desk chair instead of the zebra, they will. I realized that the only way to avoid conflict is to never say or do anything. That would also mean not having any blogs. But what fun would that be? I’m not going to live in a cave with duct tape over my mouth simply because some people have trust issues or can’t handle what I may have to say. Making myself less accessible to stalkers on sites I was getting sick of any way is one thing, but not being myself is another. So yes, yes, yes, I will discuss any past, present or future medical problems as freely as a river flows. Yes, I will say that I believe that any prayers that seem to have been answered are just a coincidence that was meant to be anyway. Yes, I will say that I disagree with the behavior of some blacks and Arabs and that my feelings on some groups are mixed. Want to call me a racist that’s going to fry in hell? Fine, do it! And yes, I will say that I blame God just as much as I blame my father for allowing my mother to abuse me. I will talk about my dreams and dream premonitions and how I’m anti-teen pregnancy and believe that teen knock-ups should be forced to abort or adopt out their kids. And no, if your dog gets shot for barking up a storm, I’m not going to feel sorry for you like everyone else will. So if I’m too weird, controversial, abnormal or a downright liar in your book, feel free to walk out of my life and never look back.

If you really want to lecture me, lecture me about not seeing a GYN since 1999. That’s where I’m actually being kind of stupid, especially since I’ve got a higher risk of cervical cancer. But I hate crotch doctors and life is about taking risks (sometimes). So, until and if I ever have pain, excessive bleeding that never stops, or some other symptom like that, I’m not going to one anytime soon. Then again, why don’t you just call me a liar instead and insist I just saw one last week.

Believe it or not (literally) I don’t think I have heart problems or diabetes or anything like that, but I have been wondering about my thyroid, as I recently said. So once I get my teeth finished, I’ll get that checked out.

Other than a possibly funky thyroid, 30 extra pounds, and shitty vision, I think I’m very healthy. Maybe breast cancer will start setting in tomorrow, and maybe I will have serious eye issues in a decade, but why worry about it now?

Ok, now it’s onto other things besides health issues and who believes and agrees with me on what. Tom installed the car radio and it sooo cool. It does so much! But I’m not big on regular radio stations anymore cuz I hate sitting through commercials which seem to get longer and longer each year, so I loaded up a ton of MP3s on a flash drive. Some of the radio stations are cool, though, cuz the thing displays the titles and artists. Love the colors that slowly cycle through, and how we can charge the cells with it.

Not much else going on. All the cleaning is done, so now I can just chillax through what’s left of the weekend. Poor Tom, though. Tomorrow it’s back to six 10-hour days. A ton of money, though.

Our credit score is climbing fast, but the $200 the corrupt rental agency says we owe them is still on there and it will be for another year. So even when the numbers are where the park of our choice wants them to be, we still may have to either wait or pay our perps to get ahead and to get what we want. Really don’t like that potential ultimatum, but it may not be an issue. We don’t know yet.

Not much in the way of dreams. C asked me to start writing stories again and posting them, Nane invited me on a houseboat for a week with a couple of friends of hers, and once again I was a little violent. At least they always deserve whatever I do. :) I was sitting at a counter on a stool in a restaurant when some cock leaned over me, more than invading my personal space. I pushed backward, shoving him away with the weight of my body, and then I beat him unconscious with one of someone’s crutches that was nearby. LOL, I don’t think I’d go to such extremes for real unless my life was in danger.

One more thing about Andy. In screening old journals I came across something about a sexual harassment suit being filed against him by a coworker, and him complaining that others talk about sex just as much as he does.

Here’s a convicted and registered sex offender who does nothing but obsess over sex night and day, and who comes off as totally perverted online with the overkill in sex talk/pics. Does he have more of a problem than he’s willing to admit?

And fuck Maliheh too, who was obviously never a true friend and never had any intentions of being one in the first place. I know I’m right about her only buddying up to me to keep her name out of things. There’s no doubt about it now. First she was ignoring me and now she’s ignoring my emails. Meaning, she’s not even opening them. Unless she didn’t receive them or she escaped detection, she’s not reading my messages. So fine. We’re done.

Life’s twistedness and unfairness still piss me off at times. I asked Tom if they could file a class action suit against his company with the way they work everyone to death, and he said no because all he has to do is just quit. Yeah, and all the blacks and Mexicans had to do was just not read the journal excerpts I sent them.

Later…

Andy just told me mom was a lot like me in that she’d dump someone she disagreed with. sighs I didn’t dump him, and no, I don’t “agree” with being called a liar. He’s been doing this to me for as long as I’ve known him and one of these days I’m going to really fuck with his head and give him a reason to call me a liar. Is he that miserable that he feels he’s got to start shit with others to make himself feel better? Maybe I really should reconsider not discussing health issues with him. Or maybe I should call him a liar.

I’m sick of being compared to my mother, too. I’m not her and I never will be.

Nancy appears to have finally checked in on Facebook, but no one in Indiana appears on my tracking list, and if she replied to any messages, I didn’t get them. I give up. I can’t get through to her directly or via her sister. So I unfollowed her and got her shit off my wall. She could’ve gone to my trackless blog, but I doubt it.

I so stupidly taught the rats to ring their little toy bell for treats and attention. What the hell was I thinking? LOL

There was a new listing today on a beautiful 1991 home in our second favorite park, the Diamond K Estates, in Roseville. It’s a 25K home. Tom says he thinks we can get a 10-year loan, but that it won’t take us nearly that long to pay it off. It’s at the lower end of the square footage we want at 1100-something, and it sure is gorgeous. It has a lot for the price. All new appliances, carpet, and even a garage. It also has a sunroom, and the walls are in great condition. I don’t know why that 1999 house had such beat-up walls. Who knows what they did to them, but once we saw it in person we both agreed it was in a shitty location within the park. It’s gone now, anyway.

I was against it at first, as nice as it is, figuring it’d be too risky, but Tom broke down the numbers for me, added up the costs, and I could see that the monthly expenses would be comparable to here even though this is another luxury park of sorts.

I just know that if I don’t get my money in the next week or two, or at least some of it, I’m going to be pissed. The more you have, the more options you have.

SATURDAY, MARCH 2, 2013 When my hard-working hubby comes home, his laundry will be done and his food will be ready. So those are two fewer things he has to worry about. Makes me feel good to do what I can to make his life a little easier. I hope the new shoes he got help his heel. At $100, they better! He’ll return them if there are any problems. Just because we have money doesn’t mean we want to waste it.

While I still would have gladly settled for only being able to pay for the bare necessities after the hell we went through, it is nice to have extra. Extra money is really the only way to give one a real cushion of security as opposed to when you’re living paycheck to paycheck.

But all good things do usually come to an end. Sooner or later whatever is up there is going to yank the carpet out from under our feet and sit back and laugh while we struggle our asses off. Why not? It’s happened before. I’m talking about struggling to pay for what we need, not what we want. We struggled our first year in Oregon and nearly half a decade in Cali. If what happens once can happen twice, then what happens twice can happen thrice.

But what if it doesn’t? What if God takes our future home in other ways? He used money to take our home/land in Arizona, and then the land we planned to build on in Oregon. But what if we really are never poor again but I’m still right in assuming He doesn’t want us having a place of our own? What if He happens to see that it catches fire or some other disaster demolishes it? What if, what if, what if? It’s not going to stop us, though. We intend to be in the driver’s seat of our lives whenever possible.

When I was posting old journals last night I came across an interesting entry in the summer of 2010 where Andy said his guardian angel said I’d be so sick with a horrible cold from mid-January – mid-February, one that would fuck with my asthma and make me want to kill myself. But don’t do that, he also said, because something really good would happen in April.

Right month, wrong year. I was sicker than a dog in January and a little into February. I didn’t want to commit suicide, but I did have wheezing, congestion and the cough from hell.

Also, at the end of last year, I sensed a major change in April. Still don’t see how we could move by then or even have a place picked out, but we’ll see. I don’t think the change is to be bad, so maybe it’s when I’ll get my inheritance. That’s really all I can think of right now.

Andy also predicts that the whole world will experience some disaster, though he doesn’t know what or when. He says I may not lose my home but may be without power for a week, which would make people more compassionate to others when they lose power.

I’ve gone longer than that without power (sort of). When we first settled on our land in Arizona and then in Oregon, we had to use a generator for power and could only use it for so long. Otherwise, we had to rely on batteries whenever possible.

Also, experience doesn’t always breed compassion like we think it would and should. Sometimes it does, but I’ve seen enough fatties pick on other fatties, the poor pick on the poor, the legally screwed pick on others who got railroaded, and the sick pick on other sick people.

Got 2 of the 10 incense packs I ordered and both smell great. Halloween Scary Night by Gonesh and Shower of Flowers.

And no, I’m not denying myself eye treatment and lying about it to avoid being lectured. They said to call back if I had any questions, but no treatment was necessary at this time. I’m a little surprised they didn’t tell me to come back in a few months, so this makes me think the numbers are down pressure-wise. I could still develop problems in the future that will require treatment, but hopefully not.

FRIDAY, MARCH 1, 2013 The eye doctor’s office left a text message saying that the doctor says no treatment is necessary at this time and to call if I have any questions. This is great to know, though I was never really all that worried. It’s still a relief to be able to move on to other things. Besides house hunting, I still have to finish my dental work and see other doctors.

I misunderstood which cell the doctor would call. I thought he would call the one Tom takes to work, but he called mine instead. I keep the ringer on, but I usually keep the phone in the living room, so they must’ve called when I had the music on to drown out Jesse’s ATV, motorcycle, or whatever he had going at the time. I also like music when I’m cleaning or working out. I even crank up the tunes when I’m showering.

I thought about it and decided that I definitely want to get my thyroid checked after I finish my teeth. I’ll have to see a regular doctor anyway before I can see an ear specialist. The possibility of my thyroid being off has been something I’ve been wondering about for too long now. Why not find out for sure? I have more than half the signs of a whacky thyroid and my body is not responding to diet and exercise. It hasn’t for a long time now unless I damn near starve it. Instead, I just keep losing the same few pounds that come right back. Really don’t think I can hold my weight much longer. It’s been like trying to hang onto the hood of a moving car. If there isn’t a problem that can be helped, sooner or later I’m going to fall off that car, probably sooner. Dieting shouldn’t be easy, but there’s a difference between hard and damn near impossible. Even at my age, I shouldn’t have to cut my calories so low for so little in return. I say let’s let them either tell me I’ve got a fucked up thyroid and fix it or tell me it’s hopeless and it’s just a part of aging, etc.

It’s hard to believe it’s going to be raining and in the 50s in a few days considering that right now it’s sunny and 70s. It’s 80° inside now because I don’t have the cooler going. Its vent is open and the windows are open, but that’s about it. I wonder why I’m not as heat tolerant as I used to be. Our house in Arizona was usually kept at 82° and it was quite comfy so long as I didn’t wear much. I thought my lack of tolerance was due to not being used to such fierce heat anymore, and some of it probably is, but I also wonder if age and getting so damn fat has to do with it, too.

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