#they’re charging him over $2000 just for that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

olderjodijournals · 1 month ago

Text

Thursday, July 1, 1999

I was watching part of a doll show with Madame Alexander dolls. Never heard of them before, but they’re yucky! They’re these little 8”-10” vinyl dolls with tacky little outfits that cost $100 or more. I can’t believe they’re priced over $10.

There was a message from Andy when I got up. So he does want the button sewn still. He said he’s gonna bring them over this weekend. He’s onto another temp job now and he says he’s glad he’s got weekends off so he can make plans with people. Yeah, well, it isn’t gonna be me. I told him that I’d be no good for company and visits while we’re here, but I didn’t want to push the matter on him for fear of him trying all the harder to get together with me or deciding he needed favors on the weekends. He mentioned going to bars, and that he felt like there was something else he wanted to tell me or ask me. Well, he better not think of asking me for more favors or a huge one cuz the answer’s no. The timing’s lousy and I’m sick of him using me. I’m tired of him coming around only when he wants something.

Tom got another idea (we really meant it when we said we’d discuss all possible options) to get us out of here faster, yet still enable us to have what we want. If a house is no more than 1000 feet away from where the electricity is, the electric company won’t charge anything to hook a house up to it. After that, it’s $6 a foot which can get pretty expensive if your house is 2000 feet away or more. So we talked about maybe getting a cheap, older, smaller house that’s already rigged with utilities, then turning right around and putting in a big, new, modern house immediately after moving in. That way we won’t have to worry about the expense of electricity, phones, wells, etc. This should also enable us to have plenty of money for new furniture.

Sadly enough, though, I really think we’ll be here into September. Maybe even October. Long enough for Tammy and God knows who else to call me that I don’t want to hear from. Thank God for caller ID and answering machines! Sales calls and Andy’s calls, although Tom thinks it’s Eldon, always have to come and distract me when I’m in the middle of a conversation with Tom, or doing something, so from here on out, I’m keeping the ringer off.

Tom’s gonna order me a couple more Heart CDs online. I really love that song Dreamboat Annie and would love to hear the live version of it, so he’s gonna get me a live CD of theirs. Also, the album Dreamboat Annie has 3 different versions of the song. That ought to be interesting. Can’t wait to check it out.

Tom’s mom did give him a birthday card and check, after all. He just got it in person when he went to visit, rather than in the mail. He told her about our land hunt the other day, and as figured, she didn’t say a word about it. She was too busy wrapped up in her favorite subject - herself. Although not entirely. Ray’s been eating at her a lot lately. He has a bad liver and the doctor says he’s dying, even though I don’t sense him going any time soon. Getting a liver transplant is nearly impossible. It’s harder to get than heart transplants.

Today Tom’s gonna get some real primer that’ll seal up anything in one coat like we should’ve gotten in the first place. It’s not fumeless, but anything’s better than the rotten egg smell of the drain opener we use from time to time. Also, he fixed the cooler, so we can vent the place when we use it.

Next door’s still behaving. Haven’t seen the white car or the ranchero for nearly two weeks now. The question is, what will it be like when I do see them again? Or, I should say, what will it sound like. All there’s been in the way of noise was a 3-minute episode yesterday afternoon, but it wasn’t music. Debra decided to cuss out and threaten one of the kids that were wailing its little ass off in the carport. Every time I hear Deb lately, she’s swearing and fuming mad. Is she that black bitch’s sister or something?

Friday, July 2, 1999

Oh, bullshit! How can tampons have bleach and asbestos, and cause more bleeding, and infertility in females and males?! This is what Evie’s saying, but they don’t cause me to bleed more, and my infertility (regardless as to whether or not there’s anything visibly wrong with me that a doctor could pick out) was caused by God, long before I ever began using tampons. However, I’m considering not using tampons anymore cuz of the risk of TSS syndrome and other bacterial infections you can get since tampons trap in moisture and aren’t very natural. I may as well quit while I’m still ahead and lucky enough to have escaped any problems. I still can’t believe all I’ve had for female problems are yeast infections! I’m sexually hexed, and have no rights to my reproductive system, so why hasn’t God had me have one female problem after another on top of it all? I mean, it just seems totally like something he’d do. Besides, my periods are short and light compared to most women and all I really need is liners. It’s not like I’m dancing in a G-string or like I need anything when I swim. I can swim with nothing even when I’m at my so-called fullest flow since it’s lighter than most women’s.

Later...

Tom will be home any minute with the groceries. Till then, I’ll write.

I was so frustrated and pissed off earlier trying to lay down tracks for Tom to make a few CDs for me. I was like - can I ever do anything without problems?! But after a while, I figured it out.

Haven’t heard the mouth or any music, but I saw a white Cadillac go in and out next door yesterday, and am still amazed by the overall company cut-down since they first arrived. It’s to be humid and between 106º-107º this weekend, but will that stop them from partying just outside our windows here? I doubt it. They may not party during the daylight, but why not party after sundown? I’m sure there’ll be some sort of music scene from over there, as well as lots of company. You know how it is with the subsidized houses - everyone has to go there for events. The people in the subsidized houses can’t take their parties elsewhere. Daytime is less likely for them to party, although anything can happen over there, day or night. Remember, these people don’t have a schedule. They’re up day and night! When do they sleep?

Anyway, this weekend ought to prove or disprove my latest belief, which is that I scared them into shutting up with my threats about going to the city and pushing for eviction. As we know, it’s most people’s nature to say the opposite of what they really feel. Deb may’ve said my threats and temper wouldn’t get me anywhere when in fact she knew it would, and I believe it just may have. Think about it. There’s been no white car or ranchero or noise of any kind from over there, other than a few scattered voices, horns, and car doors since I threatened eviction and maybe they do mind getting evicted. Well, it’d make sense to me that if I were trying to buy a house and was currently renting from the city, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that and I would think about settling down if someone mentioned going to the city about me and my associates being noisy. So, right now, I think they decided not to take risks and not to bother stirring me up so they could have the house, and that’s why things have been quieter. They know we know they rent from the city. That’s all they need to know we know.

Tom’s got an abscessed tooth bothering him, but he won’t go to the dentist cuz he has a phobia of dentists. I just hope it doesn’t come down to a case of do-or-die for him. He’s had fillings done before, so it’s not like he’s never gone to a dentist before.

Got a boring Bob letter, but fortunately, I don’t get too many of those these days.

I forgot to mention all the bottles that were sadly scattered throughout some parts of the areas we checked out when we went land hunting. It was pretty disgusting. Just like city litter. Some of it was teenagers partying, but some, Tom reminded me later, was for target practice. He said he forgets I’m not from here at times, and reminded me that the more secluded you go, the more likely you are to hear gunfire. It’s perfectly legal outside the city limits to do that. There’s enough open space for it.

A guy at work who used to own land out there told Tom quite a horror story about some guy with some unruly cattle. Fortunately, though, this can’t happen to us where we’re going cuz there won’t be cattle around. You can only have so many animals per acre. This guy had more acres than we’ll ever have. Anyway, some guy with cattle let his cattle roam on some other guy’s property. As is usually the case when you ask someone to do something they should be doing anyhow, he got nowhere by asking him to keep his herd to himself. But he did get shot and he did get his house torched. It’s a damn good thing those blacks never shot me and torched our house! I mean, why not? I only asked them for a reasonable request. I only asked them politely. Anyway, isn’t that a classic Arizonan? These people just can’t handle being asked to do anything reasonable. I’d hate to try asking your average Arizonan to do something not reasonable! People are selfish everywhere and can’t be asked for simple little favors, but it seems especially so in Arizona.

Well, I’m not worried about cattle or homicidal maniacs when we move, but I am slightly worried about dogs. People are looser out in open spaces and the laws aren’t as tight. I hope to hell this won’t mean we’ll have dogs roaming around our land, but hopefully, we can put up some kind of fence a dog can’t squeeze through.

Tom got more listings of available land/houses in the mail yesterday. They were like the first batch we got - some had potential, others didn’t.

I really feel I’ll have to settle in some shape or form (Tom doesn’t mind where we go), but don’t I always? I’m just not destined to have my cake and eat it too. Perhaps no one is. The question is, though, do I want to settle on the house or the land? Tom says he doesn’t think getting a 3-bedroom/2-bath is settling. Neither do I if the rooms aren’t too small. I’d like to have 4 major clumps of space. One for the master bedroom. One for my computer. One for his computer and a small bed. And one for the animals. As Tom said, though, we’ll be able to add on if we want to.

Sunday, July 4, 1999

I don’t have bad vibes concerning next door, but my logic says there’ll be enough of a party to have me very annoyed. It may not be like their housewarming party was, but bad enough still.

Let me get into other things before I bitch about how much I’m not looking forward to dealing with antics from next door.

We got new renters across the way here. I’ve seen a red car, a blue car, a truck, and a van. All vehicles were in so-so condition from what I could see. Nothing too nice and new, but no old junkers, either. What I saw was enough to tell me that they’re duplicates of the other renters. They’re no doubt young, the type to party, have a lot of company, play loud music, etc. They even have a dog. Or so I thought. Yesterday I saw a large dog, possibly a Dalmatian, at the chain-link fence at the side of their house, but neither of us has seen or heard it since. This tells me that it probably belonged to one of the people helping them move in. They’ve been quiet so far, but they just moved in. Neighbors are always quiet the first week or so. At least this housewarming party will be across the street, although I don’t know that they’ll have one. I’ve noticed that it’s only the subsidized scum that has housewarming parties, but if I was too lazy to work, didn’t mind noise and city living, and if I could swipe a free house and much more from the taxpayers, I’d probably be in the mood to throw a party myself.

Tom’s doing some back room packing right now. He got a new sprayer to make the painting less messy, cuz he was getting paint in his ears, his nose, and everywhere (I took a picture of him with paint all over his face). All that’s left to paint is the bedroom ceiling, the bathroom, the utility area, and half of the back room. He also still has to do the outside trim and put that kick-ass primer on any wall art that’s still showing through.

Woke up from quite a wild dream. I guess I was back east since the houses seemed old and huge. Me and some guy broke into a house we thought was empty. As we were on our way out, a car pulled up. As we hid in a huge box at the very front of the house on the porch, I told him we’d run for it as soon as the person was deeper into the house. A woman came in and passed the room we were in. As soon as she did, we booked outside for the car we came in. I flew down the stairs which seemed to go on forever, then I threw myself into the passenger seat of the car. The guy was behind me and he didn’t quite make it. Something like 3 people came out of the house, beat him up, and threw him in the backseat of the car. I was terrified they were gonna get me next. The guy was still conscious enough to give me the keys, and I scooted over behind the wheel, threw the key in the ignition, and zoomed away. I drove nervously for what seemed to be quite a while. I was trying to pick a good spot to pull over and so we could catch our breath when I woke up.

I’m stunned not to have heard from Andy yet, but the weekend’s not over yet. If I don’t get those pants by Tuesday, then I’ll be seriously wondering if he’s not just playing games with me. Anything to butt into my weekends! This is something he may do too, if he suspects I’m gonna dump him. He’d either do things to get all the attention he could knowing our friendship was nearing its end, or he’d back off and hope I’d keep him in my life, feeling that he wasn’t such a pest after all.

I saw The Gallery of Dolls the other night. They had some baby dolls that were more realistic than Bailey, but they were vinyl. I was shocked, though, to see them have anything so real-looking and for only $30. They had a couple of dolls in beautiful pink dresses with pretty pink flowers, but they had boring faces and hair. They had one doll doing a handstand. That’s different. When are they gonna have a doll with braces? That’d be unique, too. During the doll show, I saw a commercial for a doll show I’ve never seen before that’s to be on Tuesday and I can’t wait! They showed a gorgeous Indian doll. She may be too small and too expensive, though. I’m hoping there’ll be at least $1,000 for us each when we move to blow on whatever we want. My current plan is to get the doll kit with any birthday/Christmas money, and to get two Indian dolls from the Ashton-Drake catalog I like, a tall doll from the home shopping channel, a real-looking doll from the mall, and maybe that Indian doll I saw that’s to be on Tuesday’s show.

Ashton-Drake sent me their latest catalog yesterday. They now have a Rapunzel bride. Her hair was in a long braid to her feet. She was nice, but I could make my own variety of Rapunzel dolls all with the Rapunzel doll I’ve already got if I wanted to.

A silver pickup stood overnight parked on the street in front of next door Friday night. I thought, here we go again. Back to the company scene. However, it was broken down. Early yesterday morning, a blue car came and gave it a jump, then both cars left. I was surprised. Usually, they come and go a dozen times before leaving for good. This was all I saw in the way of vehicles and people (except for the van) till the rental truck pulled in. From what we could see, they’re renting a kick-ass stereo like mine. Great. Just what I need. Tom said that as he was coming in yesterday, he heard soft music coming from the house. So soft, it couldn’t be heard in here. That’s all gonna change now if I’m wrong about my city threats scaring them. Well, like I said, this weekend should either disprove my theory about my making them nervous about making noise or prove it all the more.

These people are unfuckingbelievable, though! They don’t work, yet they can afford a van, they can afford to rent a stereo, they can afford the many kids they never should’ve had, they get a free house, and they don’t have to lift a finger to do one day’s worth of work. Unfuckingbelievable!

I decided that seeing this was the final straw to having my stereo in the music room. Without the sound blockers in there, I just felt too vulnerable in there. Like my presence in there would enhance the chances of any antics from over there. So, I moved my stereo into the bedroom where the sound blocks are. I’ve noticed that the less I’m in the music room, the less noise I get from over there. It’s almost like something up there knows when I’m in there and I just never felt comfortable in there. So, from here on out, I’ll hardly ever go in there.

At first I tried to tell myself not to worry since my stereo can’t be heard over there, and we’ve got single-paned windows, but you see, I don’t leave the windows open. They do.

It’s great having both speakers hooked up again, but nonetheless, if I’m gonna be forced to listen to music, it’s gonna be my own. I’m also gonna try to take whatever God dishes out to me while I’m still here, cuz you know what I believe. Crazy or not, I can’t help what I believe, and that’s that if I fight what God has in store for me, I have to pay for it. Even though I think my threats and our talk next door were a good thing, and I had a good vibe over it, I was depressed for 3 days after our little chat. Gee, I wonder why! You can’t fight God and win and you can’t fight God and get away with it. So, unless it’s really, really bad, or waking me up, I’m just gonna take what I get while I’m still here. In just a few more months, my days of having to set up my own home according to how others live will be over!

Later...

Fuck! Next door’s gearing up for a barbecue and there is a dog across the way that’s barking its ass off. Well, that’s what the sound machine is for. Anything’s better than bass. The blue/green pickup showed up at 5:00. It just pulled out and parked on the street to let the van out, then a guy got out of the pickup carrying a fuel tank for the grill. Great. Just great. And I know damn well that one vehicle for company won’t be all. It’s not enough for these people. When these people party, they party. There’ll be a dozen more vehicles to come and God knows how much music. See what I mean, though? They all have to come here. Why can’t these people go somewhere else for a change? Don’t they know anyone else with a house?

Tom said he heard music on and off from where he was sitting at the computer, but he said you could hardly hear it and that he couldn’t be sure it was coming from next door. Well, we’ll be hearing plenty of music from over there. Just give it time. The next 6-7 hours are going to be anything but peaceful.

Tom said that they’d probably start with the company and all that at 2:00, but I figured they’d wait till sundown. They’re night and day people, but they do prefer nights from what I’ve seen. Nonetheless, some partying is acceptable. It is a holiday, they are quiet most of the time, and we shouldn’t be here too many more months, but of course, I said that last January and we’re still here, so who knows. We may be celebrating my birthday here! Tom, though, says no way will I turn 34 here and that everything is going pretty much as planned. He said he always felt we wouldn’t be out of here till July or August. I don’t sense us moving in August. Right now, logic and vibes tell me September or October is more likely.

On Tuesday, we might go talk to the people at Palm Harbor to see if they can tell us what we qualify for, etc.

Tom was online checking what houses on this street and its surrounding streets have sold for lately, and we were astonished to learn that a house up on W. Weldon sold for $107,000! It must be bigger than your average house around here, although around here, they all look the same. Little squares. Maybe, it had 2 baths and a pool and was remodeled. It had to have something extraordinary about it for it to sell at that price. Your average house in Phoenix sells at $80,000.

Later...

The van’s still out and the pickup’s the only vehicle here still. It’s early, though. It’s only just after 7:00 and the sun’s still up. They don’t peak till around 10:00 over there.

I was wrong. I just quickly ran and checked and the van is here. Deep in the carport. Makes sense. Gotta make room for all those vehicles to come.

Yesterday was a depressing day. I was balling my eyes out for a minute there cuz it looked like Mickey was dying. We both thought he was on his way out. He was belly up, appearing to have a hard time breathing. However, after a few hours, he was his usual self, but he still doesn’t look healthy. He never did. We’re both surprised he made it this long and don’t expect him to hold out much longer. Well, I’ll enjoy whatever time he has left.

Neither of us has seen Shiny for a few days. The last time I saw him he was in one of his many fights with his daddy whom I chased off. Shiny wouldn’t wander off this long on his own will. I fear that someone’s got him inside their house where he can’t get out (if this is so, I hope they’re good to him), or he was killed. I can’t say I’ll miss skinny whiny Shiny all that much, but I feel bad for Tom. That was Tom’s cat. He loved that cat like I love Ratsy and Mickey.

Later...

Next door’s barbecue smells wonderful. I’m surprised they’re eating before all their guests arrive, though. Well, it is kind of late for dinner, and also, I’m sure it’s an eat-as-you-arrive sort of deal. I was also surprised at how quiet the voices were over there. I heard a few scattered soft adult voices. No kids.

The pickup just left, but it’ll be right back. It’s obvious they’re dealers.

I hope to see some pretty fireworks going off in the neighborhood tonight. With my luck, next door will shoot firecrackers at the house.

The pickup’s back. See, what did I tell you? Do I know these people now, or what? Two guys came back, empty-handed, after only being out for 3 minutes. That spells drug run to me. Well, it’s their lives and their bodies. I just feel bad for those kids. I mean, I know they’re gonna grow up to be waste products, using the taxpayers’ money to sit on their ass so they can watch TV and do drugs all day and all night. It doesn’t take my being psychic to know that.

Later...

I just got a better look at the dog across the street. It is a Dalmatian and it’s yipping its ass off. But why didn’t I hear it till now? I know the thing’s gotta have been outdoors ever since it got here. Most dog owners don’t allow their dogs indoors. If this dog’s my compensation for the lack of the white car and ranchero banging it (not that they might not do that any sec now), I’ll take it. If this is what I get for rebelling against what God “ordered” for me and for going over there and bitching them out, fine. I’ll gladly take a dog that’s across the street and not 3 feet away over bass any day.

Just saw a little boy dart out onto the driveway. So, they’ve unleashed the kids for the night, huh? I’ve got the fans on, so I can’t hear dogs, voices, or screaming, but I can hear if anyone bases in.

Later...

Next door’s now out of sound, but not out of sight. I threw on my cordless headphones for my temper’s sake. No, they’re not doing anything too unacceptable or that calls for the letter to the city to be mailed out, but I don’t want to hear all the unruly little animals screaming, zipping up and down the length of our house. They’re screaming bloody murder, and of course, everyone else around here is acting like normal, civilized people. Only the Mexicans and blacks that have to be next to me, are into the melodramatics. There’s not one light on over there, either. See? They prefer to party at night, in the dark.

To my utter astonishment, the pickup’s still the only vehicle there still. I did hear some music, but so far, and I repeat, so far, it’s been at a reasonable volume. The sun’s just about totally set, and as it nears 10:00 and is dark for a while, this increases the chances of them going over the line and becoming totally unacceptable, which also ups the chance of me going off on them. So, to keep my temper in check, I’ve got the headphones blaring in my ears now. Tom, who’s asleep now and asked me to wake him up later, told me to wake him up if there’s a problem.

For now, I’m gonna assume that after tonight, they’ll go back to being quiet like they usually are and that tonight’s only cuz it’s the 4th. God, just please let us out of here before Labor Day! I don’t know about that, though. Still, what are these clowns doing celebrating this country’s birthday? Why don’t they go down to Mexico and celebrate birthdays there where they belong? That’s their country.

Later...

Every so often I go into the music room and listen for a sec. It’s my curious nature, I guess, to want to hear what they’re up to at the same time I don’t want to know they exist. Still no other cars, and there weren’t any voices or music just now when I checked.

I won’t wake Tom up for the fun we agreed to have till around midnight, give or take an hour or two, cuz they probably won’t be settling down till then. Just because I didn’t hear anything during the few seconds I just checked, doesn’t mean there won’t be bouts of noise. However, if I’m right about my making them nervous about going to the city if they don’t shut up, especially if they do want to stay there and they do have people living there that aren’t supposed to be there, tonight shouldn’t get out of hand like the housewarming party did, and it shouldn’t go on all night, either.

Later...

Now that was weird. I just went out back to hear what I could hear in the way of people or firecrackers, but it was dead quiet. Dead quiet! No voices, no dogs, no firecrackers. All I heard was the train and a whir of ACs. I guess the firecrackers won’t be till between 9:00-9:30 anyway. I’ll de-headphone and go out just after 9:00.

Black Dots across the street quit going off (I don’t sense he’ll be a problem. Not like the collies are). And there’s still just the pickup over there. If the ranchero and the white car are gonna show up tonight, though, they won’t be here till between 10:00-11:00.

So far, my not having bad vibes makes sense, and I was right about them not coming alive till after dark.

Later...

Saw some pretty, colorful fireworks off in the distance. I tried taking pictures, but they didn’t come out.

The pickup left at 9:00 and there have been no other vehicles since. I don’t sense the white car or the ranchero, but if they’re coming tonight, they’ll be here soon.

I was amazed at how quiet it was out there when I was watching the fireworks. Not even the collies were going off, but I could hear dogs and voices in the distance (I still have the headphones on in here, though, cuz I feel more comfortable with them). Just a few scattered faint adult voices would come from next door while I was out there. No music. No firecrackers. I could be wrong, but I really believe tonight was as mellow as it was compared to the housewarming party because of our talk. I really think there’d have been much more in the way of music tonight if we hadn’t talked and that they’d be outside yelling all night long. If this is the case, I really appreciate them for caring enough to simmer down. Most people just don’t give a shit. Again, it may not be cuz they care, but cuz of the house. Well, whatever it takes. If that’s it - great.

Monday, July 5, 1999

Yesterday’s sex went from boring and too predictable to an exciting change of pace. His excuse of choice this time around was allergies, but I know it was fear. I still don’t know why he’s so afraid to address and deal with his fear of me conceiving after having no problem at all admitting to his phobia of dentists, but that’s his problem, isn’t it?

Anyway, the boring, predictable part was when he quit in the middle of sex before even getting on top. The exciting change of pace came when he went down on me and got me off, too. I was almost convinced he’d never go down on me again!

Shiny’s still missing and we both feel it’s more than likely that the little guy’s dead and not held up somewhere. I feel guilty in a couple of ways and very bad for Tom. The ways I feel guilty over it are that I didn’t take the time to try to make him an indoor cat which would’ve been safer (Tom has a point, though, when he said that that was never an option for us), and for wishing at times that that whiny cat would disappear.

Later...

I did some singing a little while ago with the speakers blaring and I don’t give a shit if next door heard it or not. In fact, I kind of hope they did, but I know better. If my music was hard to hear through the music room window, then it certainly couldn’t be heard through the bedroom windows with the sound blocks that are in them. That Mormon woman told me she couldn’t hear it when I once asked her about it. Anyway, last night turned out to be OK. The pickup returned at around 11:00, then left shortly after. The only time the dog across the street went off was last night. Ever since then, I haven’t seen or heard it. I think it was only here temporarily. Probably belonged to someone helping them move in. It couldn’t have been here all day, cuz there’s no way they’d keep a dog inside their house all day. Especially one that large. If it had been here all day, it would’ve been outside and we’d have heard it. I wonder, though, was that our last holiday here? Somehow, I doubt it was.

Tom said not to leave next door a note (I had contemplated leaving them a note thanking them for keeping the music down). Good or bad, notes out here are a bad thing, he says. He says they’re impersonal and not respectful, not that I give a shit about being personal and respectful to this N. I don’t get the respectful part of it, but no wonder that bitch mentioned leaving “little notes” in the way she did when she was running off her little list of things to me that pissed her poor black ass off. I always wondered why she acted as if I left her dead rats, rather than notes. I guess both the note and the content of the note really had that bitch in a frenzy! Anyway, I’m not gonna leave the note not just for Tom’s reasons, but for my own. I thought about it and then was like - why should I? Why should I thank them for something they’re supposed to be doing anyway? I’m not gonna thank them for not being outrageously noisy like they were a few weeks ago. People shouldn’t be credited for doing things they’re supposed to be doing anyway. I owe those fat freeloaders nothing as far as I’m concerned!

We were also talking about the different cultures within the Southwest and the Northeast. I naturally clash with people no matter where I go, but there are some differences out here that you won’t find back east. People are people no matter where you go, but we were talking about how people in the East use ATM machines less often. They tend to argue with people more and be more aggressive. They honk horns at each other more. It seems to me people out here are also more spiteful and vindictive.

Andy. Now that’s someone I could do without. My suspicions are ringing truer by the moment about his not really intending to drop off the pants, but intending to make me take time out of my weekend and out of my relationship that he’s so jealous of to go check for his fucking pants. No calls or pants all weekend. That little fuck! I mean, I’m so sick of this little shit’s immature games! Hasn’t he got anything else better to do with his time? Instead, he has to play control games with me. He just has to manipulate me. He just can’t accept my not wanting him to butt into my weekends. Well, people that can’t accept others get dumped, don’t they? Soon, Andy, soon! Oh, the kick he must get out of knowing he made me do something (check for messages/pants) on a weekend. Anything to be thought of and acknowledged in any way he can by me on the weekends. Well, I’m not gonna give him the reaction he wants, which would be to call him any time now to ask why the pants I looked out for never came. I’m not gonna play this game with him every weekend, and if he asks about it, I’m just gonna tell him I forgot all about it and forgot to even look for them. I’m not gonna bother calling him for a while. Let him wonder what’s going on for a change. I’m not playing phone or games with the little fuckaroo!

Tom painted the bedroom ceiling today, and parts of the utility area and the back room. He also packed some stuff and cut down the very tall grass out back so he can pick up roofing shit that was in the yard. I know Tom, though. He’ll put off picking up roofing till the grass grows back again and he has to cut it down again.

I had Katie out today. She’s so cute. She’s addicted to wheeling, so I can take her out while she’s on her wheel and set her down somewhere and she’ll just keep on wheeling away. She does hop off to explore somewhat, but she prefers to just keep on wheeling as if she’s still home! I had Porky out too. I try to rotate among the animals.

We plan on going to the bookstore on Friday, and tomorrow, we’re going to Palm Harbor’s factory and then to pick up some groceries. They just raised interest rates, of all fucking times to do so, but Tom says it shouldn’t hurt us and that we still have a shot at that model we want. I don’t know. It just seems so unlikely that God would allow me the house I want and the quietness I want. I just can’t picture it, but maybe my luck will change for the better, even if it means not getting out of here fast enough. Once again, we’re talking about a material thing that I can handle.

Wednesday, July 7, 1999

The blue/green pickup is parked out on the street right now (to let the van in and out). Fortunately for all of us, though, they’ve been behaving well enough since our little chat and escaped another week of the city letter going out. I’ll still keep it while we’re here, just in case, then if it never gets used, I’ll put a label over the address and use it for a letter to Paula.

Still no call from Andy, and I’m not the least bit surprised. I figured as much when the weekend passed with no calls/pants. That’s because he’s now waiting for me to call him and be like, where are the pants? Well, when he sees this doesn’t happen, he’ll eventually wear down and call me, and when he does, I forgot all about it as far as he’ll be concerned. A small part of me is like - maybe he’s hurt somewhere. Just because I’m tired of him and no longer want him to be a part of my life doesn’t mean I want him to be hurt. But I know better. He’ll call any time after today.

The renters have been quiet. No dogs, no music, no kids, no door slamming, etc. It’s a little too soon to praise them that much, cuz I’ve noticed that people tend to wait a week or two after they’ve moved to get settled in and then they make a ruckus. We’ll see, though. I don’t have a bad feeling about them, but God didn’t put them next door to me, either.

I’ve been having 1500-2000 calories lately and it’s starting to catch up to me. I woke up at 112 pounds, so I’ve decided to cut my daily food intake down a bit. I’m trying to keep it around the 1000 marker, but it’s soooooo hard. What is this shit? I can quit smoking, but I can’t lose weight? Jesus! Wasn’t it always the other way around? How did I get such superhuman strength to quit smoking and how did I turn into such a wimp when it comes to losing weight? Will I ever have the willpower to get down to 100 pounds? Obviously not. And even if I could get down there at the snap of my fingers, I know I’d be back to around 110 in less than a week. Holding around 110 is fairly easy, but to drop my weight lower than that and hold it there is another story.

I looked for that Indian doll on that doll show, but they didn’t have it. I guess that’s good, though. It’d make no sense to be finding the perfect doll now at a time when it’s too soon to be buying dolls. I’m not gonna start hunting dolls on the doll show till we move, and when I do, I’m hoping it’ll be a doll that’s between 36-42 inches. So, my new goal is to aim for getting a tall doll, a real-looking doll, and those two Indian dolls from the Ashton-Drake catalog when we move, and maybe a kit doll, too. If not, I can always get the kit with any birthday/Christmas money I may get.

Mickey’s still hanging in there. He’s one tough rat. But the tumor is getting bigger. Fortunately, though, the other rats, the pig, and the mice all seem healthy.

Katie and Ashley are direct opposites. Ashley sleeps most of the time, doesn’t wheel, doesn’t play with the crinkle papers, etc. Katie, though, is really active. She wheels and plays even in the daytime. But I try to see animals as I do kids - once you have them, like them or not, want them or not, you’re committed till the end as long as no one’s life is in danger.

Just the other day I was realizing how we’ve been at an all-time low for stereos banging by. The longest stretch ever. And of course, just as I made this notation in my head, someone blasted by really, really loud. As loud as these stereos can go. It would’ve woken me up for damn sure.

Despite how wonderful Tom is, he is only human, so he isn’t flawless. He gets on my nerves at times when he gets needlessly defensive. I asked him if I looked bigger. He said no, but I look like I may be getting a little watery. I then said it was too soon for that. That’s all I said. But then he had to go on about how he was just answering my question. Yeah, so? What’s that got to do with my comment? All I was doing was commenting on his answer, not chewing him out for answering my question.

Now for my best news of the day - despite the increase in interest rates, the house we want looks promising. Same goes for getting the furniture we want. Maybe dreams really do come true after all. They weren’t kidding when they said that some of life’s best things aren’t planned. Not only did I certainly not plan on Tom, but I never dared dream of having the house/land we’re gonna have, let alone the computer, the dolls, so many animals, a stereo like I’ve got, etc. I wasn’t supposed to quit smoking, go to California, or be put in stereo either, as far as I was concerned for most of my life. So, we may get what we plan on getting if we’re lucky enough, but boy do we really get what we don’t plan on getting! We first talked with a woman named Leona. She was nice, but a bit pushy, nosy, and full of questions like all salespeople are (this guy kept popping in, too), but as Tom said, I think we’re gonna be buying a house from them. The ride was long, but not too bad at all. I handled it well and took the little computer and played some tiles games along the way. It took about 35 minutes to get to their place in Apache Junction. We saw three models. The first one was my favorite. The rooms were a little smaller than I remembered, but I’d rather have smaller rooms than fewer bigger rooms. Who needs a big bedroom anyway, although it did help when we had two beds in the huge bedroom we have here. We might put two twin beds side by side like I think we should’ve done in the first place when we move and stick the big bed in the guest room, but we’ll see. I still love Tom no matter where we sleep, but I’ll see what he wants to do when it comes time to get furniture. The master bedroom’s not as big as this one here is, and the other bedrooms are smaller than the music room (I still call it that even though Desert Dreams is out of there). The second model we saw sucked. It was a 3 bedroom with no retreat or family room. It was so open, too. The third one was pretty nice, even though it was only a 3 bedroom. It had no retreat, but it had a family room. It had a lot of cool archways and beams for plants or whatever someone wanted to put up on them. For some reason, this one was more expensive than my favorite one. Guess it was cuz of its construction. My favorite model was cheaper than I thought. I thought its base price was $68,000, but after Leona calculated the base price, along with our chosen options (they didn’t have too many options) it came to around $62,000. Options like the island in the kitchen, all-electric, R38 insulation, a skylight, 40-gallon water heater, glamour bath, 60” shower in the second bath, the retreat room door, ice maker, and vinyl in the kitchen and the bathrooms. Although I decided I’d rather have the bathrooms carpeted. It’d be better than having bath rugs. I was surprised to learn that it comes with valances for the windows but no blinds. Also, I was surprised that dual-paned windows, garbage disposals, dishwashers, heat pumps, and sliding glass doors were options. What about a washer and a dryer? That’s not on the list she made for us. She recommended we get our own decorative wall borders cuz theirs are outrageously expensive. Well, I appreciate her honesty, but it’s too bad I can’t get that for the kitchen. We’re gonna have to put the mural up, and that alone may be a bitch. Especially with those wallboards that have strips sealing the gaps every 6 feet or so. It may detract from how the mural looks, but hopefully not too much, and hopefully it won’t make it all the harder to put up. There are little things you can get for a buck. We can have the bedrooms and the living room and family room, which will be our pet room and exercise room, wired and braced for ceiling fans. I’ll probably sleep with the fan on during the hotter months, and the sound machine on during the cooler months. I won’t have to have them blaring, though, but it’s nice to have some steady background noise. That way the animals and Tom’s movements won’t bother me.

We just had an oh-my-God kind of storm! I’ve never seen it that windy or dump that much rain on us in ages! I had a bad feeling about it. One that said I don’t have the luxury of just sitting through a storm. I have to be up and about to play Leak and Bucket. Sure enough, the back room wall heater’s leaking, and there’s a spot that’s leaking by the alcove. Hopefully, it won’t get worse than that, but I don’t know. This storm was so fierce that every house had to have some sort of leaking. It also leaked through the living room window a bit cuz the storm was coming towards the front of our house. It rained in sheets! There were foot-wide sheets of rain coming off the roof and unbelievable wind, and for the most part, it was all lightning and no thunder. There was some thunder but not enough to wake Tom up and not enough to wake me up either, had I been asleep. Typically, it’d start off with a dust storm where the sky’s all brownish colored and it just gets suddenly really windy. Then the sky would turn gray and dump rain. We’ve had this for 3 nights in a row now (the humidity/monsoons sure are early this year) but we haven’t had anything like tonight in ages. It was kind of scary being in this old hexed house and it hadn’t leaked in here in a while. I’ll probably be wondering if the roof’s gonna leak whenever it rains long after we’ve moved. I know how well old patterns and hexes have a way of following us. The question is, though - how many more times is this house gonna leak while we’re still here? And will it interfere with us trying to sell it?

Thursday, July 8, 1999

Tom went through the numbers again and it looks like we may be paying more when we move. Not less like we hoped. Well, life isn’t about getting what we plan or hope for for the most part, but he says it’s still worth it and I agree. He says we can afford it as long as he makes at least $10 an hour. Fuck you, you fucking interest rates! You just had to go up now. You couldn’t have waited just a few more lousy months! Anyway, I offered to get a smaller, cheaper house, but he still says we can get the one we want. Of course, there are other things we can do to save money. For example, except for Caller ID, we’re not gonna need 3-way, call waiting, and extra services like that. I can always quit collecting dolls too, after I get the ones I want upon moving IF I get the ones I want upon moving.

I just hope everything works out. You know me; always a worrywart. As soon as he’s given the check for 2,200 (our stock sold) at work, we’re gonna lock in the 60-day deal that Tom almost locked in when we were at the Palm Harbor place. We should get the check in a week or two, then we’ll have 60 days from there to sell the house, find the land, have them build the house, and move. Can we do it? Will God help us and allow us to time all this? He’s had great timing with me and the events of my life for the most part. I trust Tom’s knowledge of how all this works, but at the same time, I know how he can overestimate things.

I also find myself feeling bad, and a little bit guilty at times, that I didn’t push myself years ago to be able to maintain a schedule and get/hold a steady job. Even though I’m doing much more than I used to, I sometimes still feel I don’t do enough. Tom feels I work enough and he’s never tried to change me as far as that goes. I really appreciate this and I know that most women would kill to be in my shoes; having a man that’s OK with her not working and her crazy schedule. And most would envy the freedom I’ve got.

Friday, July 9, 1999

I’m not looking forward to tonight. Especially if they decide to forget about my warning to them and have company blast in and out like they might do. After a while, people figure - what the fuck? And think they can suddenly get away with shit. Well, they’re wrong. Dead wrong. And if I have to contact the city, I will.

Last night the wild animals came out at 8:30 (they had probably just gotten up) and were zipping up and down alongside the house for a couple of hours screaming like a bunch of little psychos. Anyway, they can scream, but they cannot bass. Remember that, Debra and associates.

Andy finally called and left a message. A little later in the week than I expected, but I knew he’d call eventually. His excuse for not bringing the pants over was that it was too hot and his AC doesn’t work. I don’t know if these pants exist or not, but I told him I had forgotten about the pants till he mentioned it (I meant it when I said I wasn’t gonna give him the reaction he expected/wanted which would’ve been about how I had to take time out during our busy weekend to check on pants). This time he didn’t mention, for the third weekend in a row, bringing the pants over. He says he’s been working at the temp agency and doing things with Michelle. He also wants to see the changes in here before we move. I gently tried to back him off till we can get out of here by telling him that his timing’s lousy for favors and that he or Michelle can sew the button themselves, but that I would do it if I had to. I also told him that although we’re busiest on weekends, we’re busy during the week too, since we do stuff around here in between his working and sleeping. Lastly, the only real changes that are obvious right away when you walk in here are the repainted walls and the packed boxes, and that I really wasn’t up to company while we’re still here, and all this is true. Hopefully, this will back him off, but I don’t think so. I think I’m gonna have to see this smelly space cadet one more time.

Here we go with the weekend company. And they’re early, too. I didn’t expect them to arrive until well after dark. The furniture truck just pulled up in the street next to the white pickup that’s now there, too. This is the same truck that delivered the stereo boxes, so see? It is someone who knows them as I suspected. They obviously knew them enough just now to park on the street and not the driveway, cuz they know the van has gotta come and go a million times. Why can’t these fucking freeloaders go elsewhere for a change, though, huh?!

Later...

At just before 5:00, the furniture truck left, but the pickup is still there. Looks like the animals are out early, though. Yeah, well, I’ve got my sound machine going cuz I’m sure they’ll be out there pretty late into the night. I think the reason they act like they work and they act up more on weekends is cuz they figure they can get away with it easier on weekends. They probably figure everyone else around them is up later on weekends too, so they won’t complain.

We went to the bookstore today. I got one book plus 3 sets of 5 V.C. Andrews books. She writes series that are similar to soap operas. Drama, suspense, that’s how I’d describe her. I read a series of hers years ago and loved it, so I’m anxious to read what she’s written ever since. She has a ton of books. I’m gonna see if I can get a full title list online, and see if John Saul’s got anything new cooking.

Last night I was a bit down, but fortunately, those days are few and far between compared to the old days. My reasons for being down were quite petty too, compared to my reasons in the past. It was just over the moving. Don’t get me wrong - I’m thrilled to be moving. But can we really time everything? Will things work out OK? Or will we end up struggling like we used to?

Tom was trying to tell me that moving would be the catalyst that’d cause more change for the better. I’ve been down that road before; thinking that doing something new would change things and it didn’t. I don’t need things to change for the better. They’re good enough as they are. But I don’t ever want things to change for the worse. I don’t ever, for example, as I told Tom, want to find myself wanting a kid again. The kid I can’t have no matter what technology exists and no matter what our sex life is like. Then Tom turned around and for the millionth time, he implied that the sex would change. Why? Just because we move? I’ve heard this a million times before from him and I don’t think so! It doesn’t have to change, though, as long as he never reverts back to the game playing, which he hasn’t done in a long time and which I greatly appreciate. As long as I don’t want to try for a kid there shouldn’t be any games. When I say games, I mean the I-forgot-how-to-go-in-there kinds of games. I don’t need my head played with like that. Ever. And as long as I don’t want to try for a kid, his making sure he never cums at that so-called right time is fine with me.

He told me that just like I didn’t know I’d quit smoking, other things will happen that I don’t know about, like the possibility of my getting on a schedule. It’s still hard for me to believe certain things could ever happen just because I was surprised a few times.

Later...

The green/blue pickup has arrived. The weekend has arrived. Damn! Well, I’ll love weekends when we move, but please God, just hold these people off till we move. I should know better than to even dare ask God this. They’ve been quiet so far, but I said so far. If they feel the need to scream and howl like the outcasts they are - fine. Let them make fools of themselves if they want. Let them make people embarrassed for them. But God help them if that ranchero or that white car shows up to cause trouble.

Tom got more boxes today and some recordable CDs. He agreed to make me a few CDs, but they won’t come out. I just know it won’t work. Maybe one of them will, but you know how it always was with audio CD making - hit or miss, but mostly miss.

Later...

The blue pickup left. Let me guess - it’ll be right back.

Later...

Just looked out and saw that the blue pickup was back, but it was pulling out along with the white pickup. They’ll be back in a few. The question is, though, who’ll return with them and how much of it will I have to hear? I want to concentrate on reading, Goddamnit!

Saturday, July 10, 1999

The blue pickup pulled up in the street and honked at 10:15 last night. What? They gotta honk to announce their arrival? They can’t just go up and ring the doorbell? The pickup stayed till around 2:30 AM.

There was a car parked in front of our house which left shortly after he went to work. I don’t know if this car was connected to next door or the rental. As he was going to work, the white van that visits the rental pulled up and Black Dots got out. See, that dog doesn’t live there (fortunately). If it did, it’d be barking round the clock. The red car and the blue car are there full-time, so I’d guess they’re the ones that live there, but does anyone in this neighborhood work? As we were returning from the bookstore in the middle of the afternoon on Friday, I noticed that several blocks’ worth of driveways all had at least one vehicle in them.

The city letter’s going in next Monday for damn sure. No more chances for next door, waiting for them to settle down, or assuming/hoping they’ll be quieter. They’ve long since pushed me to the max. So far, none of the music’s been loud enough to wake me up yet, and the ranchero and the white car haven’t been back, but what’s it gonna take to get it through their thick skulls that I don’t want their music passing the walls of this house?! I don’t want to hear it! Last night I could hear soft music coming from the house while Tom was showering for work. They stopped just as he got out. Tom said it was dark and quiet over there when he left for work. It’s almost always dark over there at night no matter what the little freeloaders are up to. Anyway, I told him last night that they were testing me and that it’d escalate and get louder. I’ve been through this before with a certain black bitch and her boy toy. He said no, they’re not even thinking of you. In other words - they’re just another one of Arizona’s selfish, not considering those around them. That’s how it started off, but I tell you, she’s testing me. I know the patterns. I’ve been through it before. They back off for a few weeks, then they slowly test you to see how much you’ll put up with. They think that maybe things have changed and that you’ll put up with more of their shit. Wrong, Deb. Wrong.

I was right. Today the music did get louder. There were no cars over there either, so it was coming from inside the house. I was about to have Tom go over and tell them to shut up, but then I changed my mind for a few reasons. 1. It won’t do any good but only for maybe 3 weeks and we’ve got about 10-12 more to go here. 2. Tom said that he thinks it’s the kids doing it cuz the parents are out and that if we complain, they’ll just make sure to do it all the more when the parents are out. True. You ask people out here to turn down their music, you’re pissing them the fuck off. 3. God will get me for it. He’s already gonna make me pay for the city letter as it is.

Why me, though, huh? Why does God do this to me and why do these city bums always have to be next to me?! Doesn’t God ever get sick of the same old, same old? Oh, those fucking freeloaders! I figured out why I have respect for Indians, but none for the Mexicans and blacks. The Indians and the Jews both got shit on way back when. The Indians got their land stolen, the blacks were slaves. However, the Indians have gone on to make a life for themselves. They don’t live in the past and use the past as an excuse to do wrong like the blacks do. They don’t cry racism every time they’re caught doing something wrong or they don’t get their way. Same goes for the Jews. How many gang-banging, drug-dealing, lazy Indians do you know?

Anyway, I pity the next people in here, but maybe, just maybe, the city letter will be doing them and me a favor. I don’t know, though. I get the impression the city’s just about given up on their bums that don’t follow the rules and on those that complain about them. Some people are like that; when things get too out of hand, they just say "What the fuck" and they give up. But if the city does talk to them and if anyone from next door comes over asking why we went to the city and not to them, we don’t know anything about it. We don’t owe them any explanations and we don’t need to waste our time getting into a 20-minute discussion with them over how I already told them that if they didn’t shut the music up we’d go to the city, etc. They were already warned about what I’d do if they didn’t settle down and shut up.

Later...

The blue pickup’s there now, but I was too lazy to check and see if the van’s deep in the carport. The music spell last night and today only lasted a few minutes (there’ll be more), but the point’s the same - I don’t want to hear it, I’m sick of them and their shit, and there’s no stopping the city letter from going in now. It may not do me any good, but it’s going in. No ands, ifs, buts, or what-ifs.

I was also right about the CD-making being a bust. Tom says when we move he can do it really easily from his computer. Uh-huh, right! I’m not meant to have any more CDs made up than I’ve already got. I don’t know why, but this is just the obvious case here.

I forgot to mention that Leona, the woman at Palm Harbor, had a nice southwestern picture hanging in her office. I jokingly, yet seriously since it was a nice picture, said I’d take that as part of the deal, and she said I could have it. I’m sure she was kidding since most people don’t mean half the things they say, but I was still surprised by her response.

Later...

The blue pickup left and no vehicles are there now. When do these people sleep?! Well, just because I see the van going in and out during the day and the night doesn’t mean they’re all going out at once. Remember, there are 3 adults over there. They could be sleeping in shifts.

Tom’s masking the back room and bathroom now.

Later...

Tom just hit the sack. I might still be up when he gets up. He painted the bathroom, the hall closet, and the back room. But before he could finish the back room, much less hit the utility area, he was out of paint.

I just did something I never did before in my life - caught a spider with a tissue as it was coming down on its web. If it had been any bigger, though, I wouldn’t have had the guts. I was reaching into the kitchen to turn the light off so I could spy on next door easier when I caught a small movement out of the corner of my eye just a few inches above my head, seconds away from landing on it. At first I thought it was a mosquito, but as soon as I realized what it was, I grabbed a tissue and squished it. Or so I thought. When I went to open the tissue to check, it scurried away towards my finger, then I panicked and dropped the tissue and the spider. Once I found the damn thing on the floor, I permanently put its lights out.

I thought that the only two places it leaked were by the alcove and through the wall heater, but nope. Tom said it did leak along the back wall cuz the carpet was all wet. Thanks, God. Thanks for letting us move on and thanks for helping us help ourselves. I mean, how insulting! He watches Tom slave his ass off from up above and what’s he get for it? A roof that continues to leak. I told Tom from the get-go, though, that this roof was hexed. That means it cannot be fixed. Maybe God will let someone else fix it, but it ain’t allowed while we’re here. The question is, though, how will affect the sale of the house? I told Tom we better not tell anyone about it, but he said we could be sued if we don’t and that it’s still OK cuz the kinds of people that’d buy this house wouldn’t have a choice. Why not? There are other houses within the same price range and size. Why not get one that doesn’t leak?

Talk about people not meaning half the things they say - well, Melanie lied. Why, I’ll never know, but the more I think about it, the more I don’t buy it when she says she has naturally curly hair. Not that it matters what she has, but it takes one to know one. Her hair was curly all the way to the roots which isn’t natural. Also, I know how hard it is to straighten hair that’s naturally curly. You can curl hair easily enough, but you can’t straighten it unless you’re stripping out a perm. I really think the curls she used to have were permed and that she had the perm taken out. And she said it was “permanently straightened.” Well, that’s not possible. Hair grows. Even if she did straighten her hair, it’d grow out curly. It’s just like with dye. You can die brown hair blond, but it’ll grow out. You can get root fillers, but I’ve never heard of any such thing for straightening. And like I said, curly hairs don’t really start to curl till you get 2-3 inches down the hair. Maybe I’m wrong, though, and maybe it’s a case of it being meant to be for her and not for me. Just like some people could have invitro and have a baby and others could have it and do nothing but miscarry. Tom said that maybe I took her too literally and maybe when I asked her if it was naturally curly, and she said yes, she was being sarcastic. Didn’t sound it to me. She said it matter of factly.

A silver pickup’s been out on the street next door for several hours. I agree with Tom at this point about our very loud 5-minute concert earlier - it was the kids. So what are they gonna do? Blast us out every time mommy and daddy step out? Well, they were in and out as usual and that was the only time so far today that we heard any music. Maybe all 3 of them were out during the time the music was blaring, but someone stayed back during the rest of the ten million trips.

I have a theory as to why I haven’t seen the white car or the ranchero since I blew up on them. It’s just a theory. Anything can happen when it comes to these freeloaders, but I think that they told them, “Look. We don’t care, but our neighbors do and we don’t want to get evicted, so keep the music down.” In response, they reacted like a true Arizonan and flipped. They probably said, “Fine! Fuck it then! If we can’t blast our music, we won’t even bother coming over.” This is the type of people they’d attract as friends, too. People that are just as selfish as they are.

Like I said, anything could happen over there at any time, but during the week there should be less company and there might not be any music at all from their house. Or if there is, it should be really soft like what I heard late last night.

I thought of the perfect name for the woman I think is Deb’s mother - Fanny. After the way she mooned me when she bent over to stub out her cigarette, Fanny’s the perfect name for her. Just like I dubbed Joebitch’s father Bill, cuz he looked a little like Bill Cosby, I now have the perfect name for her. I forgot the husband’s name. It was something like Chester, so I’ll just call him that.

The renters still haven’t had a rambunctious housewarming party (although they might be acting up any minute now). Only a subsidized group of sick fucks would have that. Housewarming parties are for selfish, greedy, assholes that’ll do anything to get something for nothing from people.

Later...

Black Dots is going off now, but since he’s more than 3 feet away, he can be drowned out by the sound machine. I looked out to see what was stirring him up and saw a woman get out of a car across the street and head into the house. So, they are having company tonight. I think that last night and tonight they may’ve had friends over to see the house, but they did it in a civilized, normal, respectful way. There’s been no music or screaming at least so far. Just the dog. Not that I’m complaining, but why is it that I hardly hear the dog? Is it not here most of the time? Or could they really be letting it stay inside the house most of the time? This is only the third outburst of barking I’ve heard since they arrived 10 days ago.

Later...

Here we go again with the stunted metabolism. I woke up at 112 pounds, had nothing but a TV dinner and a bag of popcorn all day, and I still weigh 112 pounds. It shouldn’t be that way unless my metabolism has stopped up, so I did a little jogging in place which I can do for a surprisingly good length of time. I have to be either talking to Tom, watching TV, or listening to music, though, when I do it cuz it’s so boring. Sometimes I still contemplate enjoying life and the food that’s in it and not worrying about my weight, but I still hesitate to let go cuz of the expense and hassle it’d be to have to keep getting bigger clothes till I stopped gaining weight at God knows where. I kind of like to be flexible too, if I can help it, so I don’t need a huge belly in the way.

It seems the silver pickup’s all next door’s having for company tonight. So far, that is.

That car’s parked in front of our house again, and yeah, I’d say it’s definitely visiting across the street. There are about 5 vehicles there now.

I’m trying to look at this place not as the house where we live right now, but as just a place we’re staying at temporarily till we can go home. I’m trying to see it as a bad vacation. We’re temporarily held up in this sometimes noisy, too old, too small motel, but we’ll be going home soon to our big, modern, quiet home. This is just a house. As far as I’m concerned, it’s always been just a house. But when we move, we’ll be home.

Sunday, July 11, 1999

All’s been quiet since I got up and there’s been no barking across the street. Across the street’s company left at around 2:30 last night, but there have been 4-5 vehicles over there today, too. As long as they stay as quiet as they have.

The silver pickup didn’t leave next door till around 2:00 this afternoon. I was up yesterday from 1 PM-5 AM, and all throughout that time, the van came and went every few minutes to a little over an hour. It’s been in the same spot since I got up at 1:00 today, not surprisingly. The van seems to stay in during the early to late afternoons. It’s at night and on in till the morning that it seems to do most of its comings and goings. It’s gotta be drug runs. I think that whenever they get a call at the house, they go somewhere in particular as a drop-off point. I don’t know how much of the drugs are in the house that they take out to sell, or how much of it they go out to bring to the house, but they’re not druggies. They’re too fat for that.

Also, Tom says Fanny’s not in her 40s and is not Deb’s mom. He says she’s just a kid between 17-19 years old. Really? See, age is so hard to tell on really fat people, but he’s seen her better than I have. I haven’t seen her close up like with Deb and even her age is hard to gauge. She could be 20-something, she could be 30-something. My guess would be she’s 30-something, believe it or not, even though Mexicans usually start breeding as soon as they start menstruating.

Tuesday, July 13, 1999

Last night, at around 9 PM, I left Andy a message letting him know he could call if he wanted to talk. He was on the phone when I called, as usual, and I know he got the message shortly after I left it, cuz I called his machine to check. Not that I’m bitching, but I haven’t heard from him since. He must be pretty busy. Or else he’s mad at me for reasons I don’t know and don’t care about. I think, for the most part, he knows we’re finished when I move, so he’s probably figuring - what the hell? Why bother to go out of our way to talk when it’s just about over between us?

Yesterday I went through my makeup. Most of it I’ve had for a decade or more, so it seems, so I got rid of most of the old makeup I’ve had.

I saw a tall doll I want to get when we move if she’s still available. She’s a closed edition. There were only 300 of her ever made. Her name is Ciara and she’s 38” tall at $148.68. Her face and hair aren’t great, but better than most tall dolls seem to be. Her dress, though, is stunning. She has curly blondish hair that’s about to her waist, blue eyes, and a powder blue dress. Yeah, blue really is a popular color. It’s gorgeous, though. It’s satin with lots of pearl beads and rhinestone accents trimmed in lace. She also has a little purse and pretty lace gloves that go just above the elbow. I liked how they left some doll visible. It seems that most dolls are smothered in such full, bulky, baggy outfits, but this one is nearly sleeveless. The gown is long, but that doesn’t detract from the doll at all. She also doesn’t have a huge, tacky hat of some kind like most dolls do. What was weird about her, though, was that she had a womanly face and a womanly dress, yet she had girlie shoes. Tom said it was a nice doll, but that she had an odd expression for reasons he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

God, I really hope I can get the two Indian dolls I want from Ashton-Drake, this doll, and a realistic-looking doll from the mall store! I can’t wait to go back to that mall store! I just hope we can get most, if not all, the things we want on our list too, like a living room, bedroom, and kitchen set. A computer desk for me, etc.

OK, now for my freeloader update - the letter’s going out today as I’ve had it with next door’s shit! God, how I’ve had it! How many years now of shit from that house have I been having to listen to? Damn, I resent God for sticking this shit on me year after year! It’s become an obsession with him since 1992 and you know, it scares me. It really scares me. What’s he gonna do when we move? Tom says there won’t be stereos banging about, but yes there will. As soon as we move in God will stick them on me. Those stereos are perfectly capable of traveling from property to property out there. Someone’s teenager that’s home alone after school for a few hours or so will thump me out, and if there isn’t a regular problem with neighbor noise, there’ll be something. But at least it can’t get as close as a few feet to the house.

Anyway, I got up and was making my coffee when I heard thump, thump, thump. Not a very thrilling thing to have to wake up to. Sure enough, it was coming from the one and only infamous, notorious address next door, but amazingly, it was only for a few minutes, and sure enough Deb didn’t have a clue as to what was going on cuz she was out, but she came back in shortly after it stopped. Well, she better put two and two together real fast and figure it out, but I think I might know who the culprit is, and now there are 4 adults over there. When I say adult, I mean one that’s in their late teens. She was chubby, almost fat, with a long braid nearly to her ass. I saw her when she was out with the kids who were running up and down between the houses screaming their little asses off and I think she’s the one doing this. I’m surprised she doesn’t do it every time the van leaves, which is 2-3 times an hour. Sometimes the van stays in all night, though, but this was in the late afternoon.

Tom still plans to write the mayor and boy let me tell you, that cunt has no idea how lucky she is we’re moving, cuz if we weren’t - I’d be doing everything in my power to see that they got evicted, and that that house got sold. Sold to a white person(s). That shouldn’t be too hard, though, since freeloaders rarely can afford to buy houses and when they can, it’s not in a legal kind of way. I’d do whatever it took, be it legal letters or terrorizing the shit out of them.

I’ve simply had it with other people’s noise and I just wish they’d leave me the fuck alone!

Anyway, Tom and I had an argument earlier. We were in bed planning on screwing when I told him I doubted he’d build himself a computer desk after we move cuz I know how much he loves to talk about things versus doing them. A lot of us are like that. It’s easy for me to talk about getting down to 100 pounds, but another to do that. I’ll always be 110 pounds or more. He wasn’t too happy with my saying that, though. He says that if I tell him I know he won’t, or I don’t think he’ll do a certain thing, then that makes it harder for him to succeed. This is understandable and I intend to watch what I say from now on. Then he says that he can’t help it if the animals need food or I need books and that that delays him from making things. No wonder he never wanted a kid, I thought, but then he said he didn’t mind shuffling things around to accommodate schedules and tasks and all that.

Then he suddenly got a stress headache. Always one thing or another when we’re in bed. So I figured I ought to just get up and forget the sex since he’d just quit on me and use the headache as an excuse. He said he would’ve had sex and that the headache would’ve been fine in just a few minutes. He said, “When you say I quit in the middle of sex, well, what is the middle? What’s the beginning, what’s the end?” Well, usually the first half, maybe a little more, is spent doing side action, and the rest is on top, but what I mean by “quitting in the middle of sex” is that he’s been quitting after a few minutes a lot lately. If we’re gonna have sex, let’s just do it, I told him. Let’s stop with the constant excuses. Then he says he’s got chronic pains such as tendonitis and all that all the time. Yeah, but it’s quite a coincidence that things seem to affect him mostly in bed, I told him. Then he tried telling me that wasn’t necessary so, but I told him he ought to consider doing just side action if he’s got too many aches and pains when he goes on top, and that if he’s got any fears, he ought to admit it and deal with it. As always, though. He denies the fears. Nonetheless, maybe some of his excuses in bed are legit, but there are just so many that it’s always made me wonder.

Anyway, as I was trying to point out to him - he is how he is, and whether or not his procrastinations are intentional or not, can’t be helped, and can't be changed, he has procrastinated a lot since I’ve known him. I feel like he’s trying to pin the blame on me for it, just like he blames me for his not cumming. He doesn’t cum cuz he doesn’t want to. Period. And because it’s not in his nature. He can’t blame things that are going on in life for it, or me. I mean, he agrees I don’t control him in one breath, then tells me it’s cuz I mention it every time I mention sex (even though I don’t tell him, you’ve got to cum, or you’ll never cum, or I wish you’d cum, as I used to a lot back when I wanted a kid) and if I do mention sex at all in any way when I mention sex, it’s cuz orgasms and sex usually go hand in hand. Well, for most people they do. Anyway, I’m going to prove a point to him. The point is that we’re all set in our ways for the most part. We have ways that can’t usually be changed, even if we want them to or think they can be. For the next 3 months, I’m not going to mention cumming and I’m going to prove to him that even if I never mentioned the word again in front of him, he’ll still rarely cum and he’ll make sure that when he does, it’s at the so-called wrong time (even though I know that all the time is the wrong time for me). I’m going to prove to him that even if I never said he wouldn’t do this, or I didn’t think he’d do that, he’ll still find reasons, legit or not, to either delay things or forget about them altogether. That’s OK, though, that he’ll rarely ever cum. I guess that even though God has done his work and made his plans final, he still appreciates the dramatic cutback in cumming since I’ve said I didn’t want a kid (which gives him the perfect excuse to do what he’s never wanted to do and that is that he’s never wanted to cum with me cuz he’s never wanted me to get pregnant. He took risks a few times, though, and he would’ve been a great father if I’d conceived, but deep down, he always preferred and hoped that I didn’t) and as long as he’s happy in bed - great.

So I agreed we’d do what he wants in bed for whatever length of time he wants, even if that means too much screwing and not enough of him going down on me, and I agreed not to tell him he won’t do whatever. I’m still gonna bring this up some time in October, though, just to prove my point. It never mattered what I said or didn’t say. At least that’s what I believe. I think he’s him and that he naturally tends to procrastinate or cancel things out, and that he doesn’t want to get off with me. Whatever makes him happy and whatever’s in his nature is just how it is. And sometimes we just can’t help whatever these things are.

Wednesday, July 14, 1999

Here we go again with the car problems - the AC went out. Tom’s gonna stop at the place he got the car at tomorrow and get an estimate.

Later...

The freeloaders were driving me nuts so I threw my headphones on. I mean, their fucking screaming was overriding the sound machine, the fucking mother-fucking freeloaders! God, I hate them!!!!!

I woke up at 5 PM, looked out front, and said to Tom, “What’s all this company doing here on a Wednesday?”

There was a cream-colored pickup with a dark plastic bag over its passenger window, and the blue pickup. I just thank God there’s been no white car or ranchero! He said there was a huge storm and that since some of the roads are flooded, they may not be able to get around. Let me guess - they just had to get stuck here.

Anyway, Tom said there was a huge storm with a ton of rain (he said there wasn’t much thunder which explains why I slept), but that there were no leaks (he put some stuff on the roof a few days ago). How could it not leak, though? I mean, that’s incredible! Then again, God knows we have other shit to fix, like the car’s AC. Yeah, the scammers at the dealership wanted $900, so it looks like we won’t have any AC in the car till after we’ve moved. We can’t afford for him to take time out to play car now, we have to move! I want out of this shit house and I want away from these Mexicans. Those fucking freeloaders - aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhh!

There hasn’t been any music, but shortly after Tom went to bed which was shortly after I got up, out they came to scream and act like the wild animals they are. And of course, everyone else on the street was quiet, being the normal, civilized people they are. Only the freeloaders had to make a scene. Only the freeloaders that just have to be next to me!

The cream pickup left at 7:00, but the blue pickup’s still here. Meanwhile, the city should’ve gotten my letter today and they should talk to these assholes tomorrow.

Later...

Amazingly, when the cream pickup left, it left. The blue one came and went twice, and right now, there are no vehicles there. Even the van’s out. Will the van return by itself? Or will there be more company tonight?

Thursday, July 15, 1999

Linda Ronstadt is 50 years old today.

I watched a doll show since it’s close enough (I hope) to be getting all the possible choices I can for when I can make a buy. There was another 38” doll named Tiffany that’s a possibility, but she’s about $100 more than Ciara. She too, has only 300 pieces of her. This one had a nicer face and the same color hair, but it was straight. She had on a coral dress. Her hair was the same length as Ciara’s; to the waist.

They also showed that Indian doll. She’s beautiful but not worth buying. She’s only 16” tall and has a painted face that’s not all that great. I like glass eyes versus painted eyes. Her outfit is nice, except for her headdress, she’s a full-porcelain and was $128. Only a few bucks cheaper than the Sacajawea and Pine Leaf dolls I want from Ashton-Drake. She had hair to her knees, but I already have dolls with hair that long. The Ashton-Drake dolls are more unique (especially Sacajawea who sits with a papoose on her lap) than anything I already have and they have better faces.

Later...

Our roof’s leaking again in two places and our washer’s now broken on top of the blown AC. I never should’ve “rebelled” against God and sent in that letter!

Later...

I got Tom up and he got the washer going again, so I don’t know what happened. He said even if it did break, all we’d have to do is pull the old washer out. Yeah, but that’d just be one more time-consuming hassle we don’t need right now what with all that’s going on.

Tom, who swears we’re not gonna hear our neighbors when we move, says I’ll have a problem no matter where I go. Well, there certainly has been so far. I know all places, things, and people have their pros and cons, but yes, it does seem a little overkill for me. But I can’t help what’s destined for me either, and it’s more than obvious to me that God decided that one of my main cons in life would be listening to other people’s noise. And to hex me or both of us when it comes to plumbing, electronics, sex, roofs, and cars.

Tom says that when he put the sealer on, he didn’t put any under the AC and that that’s where the leak came from as the wind blew the rain under the AC. He says he’ll take care of it Saturday morning, but why should he bother? It’ll only keep on leaking. Like I said many months ago - it cannot be fixed and if something up there will ever allow it to be fixed, it won’t be by us while we’re here. The more I think about it, though, the more I doubt God’s the cause of this leak. I’m starting to wonder if it has to do with either the spirit of a dead person who once lived here or negative energy coming from anyone who used to live here that’s still alive. I’ve always felt negative energy from this house and wondered if something bad happened here. I’m not saying I think anyone died in here, but we already know from the marks on the outer bedroom doors that kids were locked in the bedrooms. They were locked in where they couldn’t go to the bathroom of their own will. That alone tells me something right there; if you can do that to kids, you can do worse than that. There are also scratch marks on the lower inner bedroom door that suggests some kind of animal was trapped in there and tried to claw its way out. The marks suggest this was a constant occurrence, too. Anyway, having a brand-new house is good because there can’t be any negative energy in it but our own (God, I hope not!) and we know no one could’ve been murdered in it.

Friday, July 16, 1999

We’re going to look at land Monday morning and narrow down our choices, but we can’t go sign the 60-day contract Monday cuz the fucking check hasn’t come yet. Why do things like this have to take so long these days? Especially when it’s gonna be a direct deposit?

The little animals didn’t come out to scream this evening, but that doesn’t mean it’s cuz the city told them to quiet down over there. There are a few nights that they don’t come out anyway. I’m just glad I threatened them, cuz I still firmly believe that the cease in the noise from their all-nighters and the lack of the ranchero and white car is cuz of what I warned them I’d do. I guess tempers do get people somewhere, but naturally that Hispanic cunt wasn’t about to come out and admit that the fact that I practically blackmailed her and her associates had her nerves in a frenzy.

I was watching a documentary about rehabilitating killers and it really burns me up! You cannot rehabilitate a killer! OK? You just can’t do that! Especially when it comes to premeditated killers. And if seeing adult murderers do a measly few years in jail burns me up, seeing the teen murderers get even less really burns me up! These animals should be cremated and then have their ashes flushed down the toilet. Instead, they take millions of our tax dollars to hopelessly “rehabilitate these hopeless monsters. Then it burned me up even more when the so-called “therapist” said that it’d be hard for this teenage boy who killed his mother every one of her birthdays and when he has kids and they ask about his mother. And he will have kids, too. That’s the thing that really enrages me. God will see to it that this beast has kids. I don’t know why I bother to watch these things.

Look how fucked up our society is, though. Tom works his ass off just to give a good chunk of his earnings to “rehabilitate” these lost causes who can’t be helped any more than you can train a rat to sing, and so the freeloaders next door can sit on their asses all day and all night while they get catered to at our expense and given a free ride in life.

Tom says that every time I mention his mom, I complain. I guess he does have a point. It seems that ever since we found out that Dad was dying, she changed. Death changes people, it seems. Just look at how weak, depressed, mean, vindictive, defensive, hateful, spiteful, two-faced, and conceited my brother became after Larry died. Larry’s always had these traits in him, but they sure did come out really strong after Larry’s death.

I may have no choice but to cut my hair soon. I’ve been getting a lot of headaches, and personally, I miss being able to put it up in a high ponytail or clip it up or put it in a French twist, or put it in a bun, and not feel like I’ve got a brick attached to my head. I miss being able to wash, brush, and sleep with it without it being such a pain in the ass, and it still looks pretty shabby and uneven most of the time. Well, we’ll see. It’s only hair, though, and hair grows. I can always grow it back if I want to after cutting it. I did hear that cutting a lot of hair at once can prevent it from growing back and so can childbirth. Yes, childbirth will stunt your hair, but I don’t know if I believe that a big cut will do that, so I’m not worried. It’ll grow back if I let it, and if I don’t trim it so much in between like I did last time, it should only take 6-7 years to get back to where it’s at now.

I still haven’t heard from Andy, since I left him that message last Sunday night. This could mean one of several things: he’s mad at me for some reason that he only knows about, he’s assuming our friendship is nearly over anyway, he’s busy, or he’s dead. I highly doubt any of the last two. If he were dead, someone would’ve notified me, and he’s so rarely ever busy. The guy’s only been busy maybe 10% of the last decade. Well, we’ll see if he just happens to want attention over the weekend, but he should know I won’t fall for the bullshit I’ll-drop-the-pants-off-for-you-to-sew-the-button-on game.

Later...

When I got up at 8:30 I expected to see next door’s driveway and part of the street lined with cars, but it’s a ghost town over there. It’s dark and there’s no van over there. They function at night in the dark for the most part anyway, but the van will be back and I’m sure some company will be in tow. If the kids were outside earlier raising hell, I wouldn’t know.

I’m reading a book right now about a stalker who calls his victim and reads Bible passages, and oh my God! How can anyone read this shit? It’s so full of vengeance, hatred, blood, death, pain and punishment!

I’m sort of doing stomach exercises again, but the discouraging part of it is that I know I can only go so far. The flatter and stronger your stomach gets, the longer you have to work out to keep it going. Getting a stomach that looks like these instructors you see on exercise videos, takes many hours a day. I still don’t have it in me to work out that long.

Saturday, July 17, 1999

The van hasn’t been next door since I got up at 8:30. That’s at least 4 hours that it’s been out! It’s never been out that long before, has it? Hmm… Could this be the result of a certain letter? Somehow I doubt it, but it’s too soon to tell. I mean, I just don’t know anymore if that van was supposed to be there or not. If they truly are married, then I’d think he would be allowed to be there. I don’t know about Fanny, though. Well, the weekend should tell me more about what’s going on and if there have been any changes or not. Changes such as music coming from that house. I knew that stereo would be a problem. I told Tom that it would be as soon as he saw it and told me about it.

Tom says that where we’re moving to, people really want to avoid their neighbors and just like me, they want peace and quiet. Therefore, this is why they aren’t going to make a scene and be heard with stereos. I hope he’s right! They sure are desperate for attention here in the city, though. Everyone wants to be heard and noticed.

Later...

Tom just got up and is going to get us some fast food. On the weekends, I sometimes pig out on fast food.

Tom said the van wasn’t next door when he was up, either. He says all he saw was a white pickup over there. Didn’t the city have a plain, unmarked white pickup? I think they had a plain, unmarked white car, too. Anyway, if I’m right about the van not being there cuz it wasn’t supposed to be, although it’s premature to assume so, then that proves Tom wrong about two things in a good way. For the van to suddenly disappear after my letter went out just two days ago, proves I was right about being the only one to complain, cuz if the van disappearing was cuz of my letter, why mine and not anyone else that may have complained before me? See, I don’t think anyone else complained. Remember, this is Arizona. You don’t complain out here. Not unless you’re from the East. Also, it proves Tom wrong about a city complaint stirring them up even more. As soon as I saw that my threats quieted them down, I knew no city complaint would make them act “blatantly illegal.” They do mind getting evicted, fortunately, and I’m very glad Tom seems to be wrong so far.

Sunday, July 18, 1999

Tom doesn’t believe God is vengeful or loving. He thinks of God as a creator, not as something that controls our lives one way or another. He believes in meant to be and not meant to be, but just because. Not for a reason. I disagree, though, I think God does control our lives and that things that are meant to be or not meant to be are so for a reason. If he’s right, though, this world sure is full of an awful lot of delusional people. If you think about it, though, everyone wants to believe in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, so why not add in God, huh?

The reason I don’t think things happen just because is that it’s too ironic how certain things in my life have been timed. As if something up there was always looking out for me survival-wise, despite the pain and punishment it’s inflicted upon me. Isn’t it pretty ironic, for example, how I wasn’t cut from disability till after we met? How that impacted tooth didn’t show up till after we met? How my ear didn’t really start to get to me till after we met? This is how I know Tom’s wrong when he says that I haven’t conceived just because I haven’t conceived. The reason I haven’t conceived, thank God, is cuz something up there knows I could never handle that level of pain and a life with a kid. The only thing about that that doesn’t make sense is the fact that I still have my parts. Then again, I’m sure that just because a woman can’t have kids, doesn’t mean she has to lose her parts cuz of it. It’s just that usually, when a woman can’t have kids, it’s because she’s had some female problems or has had to have something taken out. You don’t have too many cases like Linda’s where she couldn’t conceive for no apparent reason, and I still don’t think it’s got anything to do with his cumming once in a lifetime or that there’s something wrong with him. Whatever’s wrong or not wrong, good or bad, wanted or not, things do happen for a reason. God, or whatever the hell it is, has our lives written out for us day to day from birth to death before we’re even born.

I still haven’t heard from Andy. Wouldn’t it be funny if he was the one to dump me after all? Sometimes, if a person thinks you’re gonna dump them, they feel it best to beat you to it and just get it over with themselves and so they end up dumping someone before they get dumped. People would rather be the dumper than the dumpee, but I hope he’ll see it more in terms of me walking away and letting him be him, rather than me dumping him. I suppose that’d be hard for him, though. Anyway, I made my call to him last Monday and let him know we could talk, and it’s up to him from here on out to either call or not call. If he’s dumped me, so be it. I want him to be himself and to be happy, so I’ll let him go if that’s what he wants, as I intended to anyway.

Tom said that while I was asleep he only saw the van once. He said it came in for a few minutes, then went back out. There was evidence of someone being at the house yesterday when he was up on the roof, though, cuz clothes were hanging out on their line. He also said that he could hear soft music when he was coming back from the store, but that once he got inside the house, he couldn’t hear it. Lastly, a car he couldn’t see, cuz it was dark at the time, came and honked 6-7 times, then left.

Went online and got a list of V. C. Andrew’s books, who’s dead from what I read.

Later...

Tom got a manual can opener that’s supposed to be better and longer-lasting. It leaves smooth edges on cut covers so you don’t get hurt, but I don’t really like it. When we move I want to get a new electric one cuz ours is dulling down and getting old. It’s just over two years old. Art and Dureen got it for us when they were here in May of ‘97.

Monday, July 19, 1999

Yesterday’s sex was utterly boring and predictable, but I just live with it. I want him to have the sex life he wants. I feel it’s the least I can do for him after all he’s done for me and given me. Besides, he already knows I’d prefer more oral and less screwing and continues to ignore this.

Andy finally called, but it was a cool message he left. Not a message asking for bullshit favors like I thought he’d leave. For now, he’s given up on the button, but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised about that. After all, didn’t I say that was just to get me to check on it during the weekend till I gave him the reaction he wanted and didn’t get?

Anyway, he’s still at this temp job he’s been at for 2-3 weeks now, and he likes it cuz he can go on the Internet at this job. No wonder he hasn’t been more insistent about coming over. I don’t have anything to offer him if he’s got the Internet right there at work.

The cool part of the message is that he’s now working for Barbara Nicks. He and some friends helped clear some furniture out of her crafts store for $8 an hour even though they only worked a couple of hours, and now he’s gonna be doing yard work for her at the store once a week which he’ll be sent a check for $100 monthly for. I’m really happy for him and I hope he’ll keep this up! I think he will, though, being the connection to Stevie and all that. He’s in now, as he says. He’s getting closer to Stevie, and I still think they’ll meet. I mean really meet. And it won’t be just a quick hello at a concert. Anyway, I left a quick reply letting him know I was pleased for him.

According to my countdown, I have 35 days to go until these braces come off. However, I’ve got a vibe that’s getting stronger by the minute saying I can forget about that. Not just because the greedy rude doctor may decide to play musical appointments with me, but because my two front teeth aren’t moving. All the other teeth moved fast, but these teeth, which were the only teeth that were even to start with and that got thrown off after the braces went on, just won’t even out again. Maybe this won’t be a problem, though, but we’ll see.

Tom replaced our old, ugly, non-standard, out-of-date AC grill yesterday. The old one was non-painted metal and this one’s painted white. It looks much better and more modern. Also, now we have a standard size, so we can get filters for under a buck at a grocery store and know it’s gonna fit.

Computers are another thing I’ve been hexed with. Especially in the last handful of months. Tom had to redo my desktop and it was a bitch having to try to remember everything that was there and in the start-up menu, but at least I didn’t lose any journals or pictures. I didn’t bother this time to change my icons. Every time I do, I just end up losing them, so I’ll stick with theirs even if they’re ugly.

I made some pretty neat collages yesterday that were hard and time-consuming to make, but fun and worth it. I made a collage of dogs, cats, flowers, cactuses, palm trees, and an assortment of animals and scenery.

I thought it’d be neat to have a layout of all the places I lived in as an adult, so I went into a program that lets me draw with lines and made some cool, but disproportionate layouts of the Norwich, and the 3 Springfield apartments I had. I couldn’t do the Deerfield one, though, with all the alcoves it had. It was still an interesting thing to experiment with.

Since we probably won’t be able to “do the dream right,” so to speak, and get all we want for the new house right away, I’ve prioritized the list, making the computer desk I want, the exercise machine, kitchen set, living room set, bedroom set, and the table for mice/GP the top priorities.

In March, Tom plans to cash more stock and says we can each take $500 to blow. Cool! I love the idea of going back to that mall store where I got Bailey twice in less than a year! I can’t wait and am so excited to get new dolls, move, set up the new place, etc.

Yesterday, about 6 hours after I went to bed, at around 6 PM, there was a power failure. Being the light sleeper that I am, whose mind is just as alert to what’s going on around her in sleep as well as when she’s awake, I woke up the instant it happened. I figured the little kids would come out and raise hell, but they didn’t, and the power wasn’t off too long. The kids haven’t been raising hell and there hasn’t been any music heard in here and I’m not surprised. However, I don’t know anymore if the reason the van’s been gone is cuz it’s not supposed to be there. If there isn’t supposed to be a vehicle here, then why has the cream pickup been here since yesterday morning? It’s weird too, for vehicles to arrive at 8:30 in the morning over there, but that’s when this pickup came and it doesn’t appear to have moved since.

Also, I was wrong when I said Tom saw a new, white pickup over there Saturday. He said he saw it there Friday. The city has cars, vans, and pickups, and it could’ve been the city, but I don’t know. All I know is that this last weekend was the least stressful since they’ve been here, and it was great.

Later...

Tom just got in and helped me get my drawings and BMPs onto a CD. It took a few tries, but unlike making audio CDs, making data CDs works. Now I don’t have to use them till I lose them, cuz it’s only inevitable that the hard drive will go on the fritz again sooner or later and destroy all my wallpaper pictures and more.

The pickup left at 7:30 and hasn’t been back since. Tom suggested that maybe they swapped vehicles for some reason. I don’t know cuz if it was Deb and Chester using the pickup, why haven’t they come and gone constantly like they do with the van? If the van and pickup don’t show up today for more than a few minutes, then I’ll think the pickup was there for them to use to go somewhere if they needed to go anywhere yesterday, and that yes, they were told to get rid of the van or lose the house. Meanwhile, leaving at 7:30 in the morning on a weekday is the time to leave if you don’t want to get caught and look like you still have a vehicle of some kind. On Sundays, though, they won’t check up on them.

Also, I forgot to mention this earlier, but the gold car visited yesterday. Tom said that when they left he saw the kids, but didn’t hear them, and confirmed that there was no music played from over there that could be heard in this house.

I’d still say it’s quite a coincidence that the van disappears and the kids shut up two days after my letter goes out. Right now, I’d say it has to do with my letter, I am the first to complain, and they do care about getting evicted. I could tell any talk of going to the city made Deb nervous from the get-go, and I’m sure that’s why the overnight noise stopped, and the Ranchero and white car disappeared, too.

Tuesday, July 20, 1999

Reporting in with 13.5 fewer inches of hair! Yeah, I finally got sick of being bogged down with it and cut it from the crease between my ass and thighs up to my middle back. I was just so tired of sitting on it, kneeling on it, leaning on it, getting it caught in food and things, and having it be a bitch to deal with. It’d take me forever to braid/unbraid it, to brush out its knots, and it was a bitch to sleep with. I couldn’t wear it in a high ponytail or a bun cuz it was too heavy, and it was too long for me to handle getting the damn thing into a French braid. It’d take nearly an hour to dry after washing it.

Now, though, it’s still long and feminine and I can do so much more with it. I can braid it without having to pull the braid in front of me, I can get it into the perfect bun, it takes no time to wash, dry and brush, and it looks so much healthier. I pulled it to the sides and put rubber bands in just below where I intended to cut it, and then I cut the two sides just above the rubber band. I cut approximately half its length off, and believe me when I say I’m going to take care of it this time! No killing it with straightening irons! That way, if I want to grow it back, it won’t be as shabby or as uneven, hopefully. As long as I don’t get trim-happy along the way, it’ll be back to where it was in two years from now if that’s what I decide to let be the case. I did a pretty good job with the initial cut which I did right after he went to work. He’ll have to even it out, though, like he agreed he would which will probably pick it up to about an inch above the middle of my back. I was surprised at how it dried up. I thought it would dry up really curly like it was a decade ago when my hair was this length, but it dried up wavy instead. It looks like how it looked before my 20s - just wavy.

I think I’ll save one of the bundles of hair, and send the other one to Tammy along with the stuff I intend to send her when we move.

Later...

Tom and I agreed I’d paint the baseboards in the bedrooms and the living room. The parts that don’t have artwork on them and need to be primed first. I went and prepped the rooms by pulling out furniture and boxes away from the walls. I did a bit of vacuuming, but I don’t intend to get painting till sunup. This will be one less thing he has to do and one step forward to being done with the prepping. Tom’s gonna put vinyl baseboards in the kitchen and the bathroom. The back room never had any baseboards, so that’s how we’ll leave it.

We’re filling the pool back up now since Tom already repainted the steps. Once it’s filled, he’ll clean the leaves, twigs and gunk that’s in it. Then, all we’ll really have left is yard work, packing, and ditching old junk we won’t be taking with us. The packing I’m doing can’t be finished till we’re right about to move, but it isn’t much. Just the things we need to use till then. Tom, though, has a shitload of packing and dumping to do within the back room and the garage.

I’m totally, totally stumped as to what the hell’s going on with next door. At 1:15 yesterday afternoon, the cream pickup and the gold car showed up, then left an hour or two later. When I got up at 11:00, the gold car and the van were here, but they left shortly afterward and haven’t returned since. Shortly after they left, the cream pickup pulled in and has been there all night. There hasn’t been any music or wild antics of any kind from over there, so that’s all that really matters.

Tom said something about someone way down the street getting a new dog, but I have yet to hear it.

Later...

It took 2½ hours, but I managed to move shit out of the way, paint the living room and bedroom baseboards, then get shit back in order. Half the living room I didn’t do, though, cuz it needs priming, and only a little part of the bedroom didn’t get done. All of the music room is done, though.

At 7:00, someone moved the pickup into the street, but I have yet to see the van or any other vehicle. I did hear someone bopping around the carport, though. I didn’t hear any voices, but someone was out doing something.

Wednesday, July 21, 1999

Yesterday morning at 7:00, the pickup moved from the driveway to the street, but no other vehicle showed up that I know of, and the pickup’s still on the street. It no doubt moved there at that time to make it look like it was visiting and not living here as it seems to be lately.

I didn’t hear any voices or music, but I saw and heard Chester bopping around in the carport. I don’t know what the fuck he was doing, but I do know he had old, rusty metal chairs up against the block wall in the carport, cuz I could see their reflection in their living room window. I heard things sliding about, but I still can’t say for sure what’s going on.

I spoke with Kim yesterday who’s doing both good and bad. Bad because if she had her way, she and Mark would’ve worked out and they’d have kids now. Good because she finally ditched Walter. I told her he’d keep on resisting having kids and that he was full of shit telling her he wanted them just to keep her. I guess he finally leveled with her about his not wanting kids, and so she did what most women would do when it comes to guys who lie about that and she left him. He was also in a bad car accident and became withdrawn. She went through a lot with Walter and was fed up. She wastes no time moving on, though, cuz she’s already seeing a guy named Jim who plays trombone in an instrumental band and wants kids more than she does. Kim joins the band at times with her flute. She’s staying in her apartment in Northampton and is soon to be sharing it with an international exchange student from Spain.

I hope this roommate works out and that she gets her Mr. Right and that her Mr. Right will want kids, but see what I mean? Every time she thinks she just might be about to get her dream, something fouls that up. I see a familiar pattern here. I even asked her this time if she thought that maybe it wasn’t meant to be, but for her sake, I hope it is.

Tom said that his mom was thinking about cashing in some CDs and she asked Tom if he thought it would be unfair for her to give Mary and him $5,000 each, and not give to the others. Well, I think that’d be fair since Mary and he are the only ones that do anything for her, but as Tom told her, it’s her money and she has to decide what to do with it. As I told Tom, though, I wish she’d stop talking and just do for a change. I’m tired of us doing for her, then having her jerk us around. She’s so fucking rude and selfish! We do for her and then she says she’ll do for us, but she doesn’t. I guess it’s easier to say things than to do them for most of us. It’s one thing for Tom to say, “whatever happens happens,” but another for him to cum when I’m mid-cycle. I’ll bet these journals he’ll never cum again during that time. Especially since I don’t want a kid. I’m not saying he’s wrong to not cum, I’m just making a point. Sure it’s easy for him to tell me that whatever happens happens, but as soon as I hit mid-cycle, or close enough, that statement’s not so easy to live by, obviously.

I can’t wait to move! I’m sooooooo excited! I’m looking forward to even little things like being able to just dial AOL without having to string wire.

Tom said I did an excellent job of cutting my hair. Yeah, I did. It still needs some evening out, but not much. He said this looks great, but he likes it better longer. Me too, if it weren’t so dead and uneven and such a pain. He rated my old hair a 9 and this an 8½. I was surprised he rated this an 8½. I thought he’d rate it a 6 or 7.

What’ll be interesting to see is if such a big haircut shocks my hair out of growing. It shocked the curl out of it. The average hair growth per month is half an inch. In just over two years it could be back to where it was, but then again, it seems that my hair grows faster in Arizona than it did back east. I don’t know why, but that’s just what seems to be the case. We’ll just have to wait and see what it does and what it looks like if it’s ever as long as it was again. For now, you can bet your ass I’m gonna enjoy how easy it is to wash, maintain, and deal with.

The pickup left at 6:00 and returned shortly after. It’s still in the street. I guess it will be all day.

Thursday, July 22, 1999

Ratsy’s been here a whole year today and Velvet’s about a year and a half old!

Tammy left a message saying she wanted to work things out. I knew she’d call before we got out of here. Well, that’s sweet of her and I hold no hard feelings towards her, but I don’t care. I just don’t care. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt her or angered her, and it’s even funny how she last went off on me (I wish I taped it), but I simply have no desire to kiss and make up and associate with her. I need to break that never-ending cycle with her as I did with the others and let her go. I have to move on. It doesn’t mean I hate her or that I don’t want her to have a wonderful life. I hope her life is full of good health and happiness. Meanwhile, she doesn’t need me. She’s got others that are there for her when she needs to talk. People she has more in common with than we do.

Later...

What a gorgeous morning it is out there. It’s the driest it’s been in ages, too. It won’t last long, though. As soon as that sun gets visible, it’ll be a sauna. I do not look forward to seeing Melanie and signing the contract Monday (the money came) in a car without AC, but it’s got to be done and it’s worth it. To think that Monday will finally be the day I have the honor of picking out valances for the new house, the cabinets, etc. is so exciting! I can’t wait!

The pickup is on the street now like it usually is. It went out for a little while yesterday afternoon, though. Also, a white car I don’t think I’ve ever seen before was here yesterday in the driveway getting worked on. Mexicans love to work on cars, but this was no old junker like the Puerto Ricans back east had. It looked like they were changing a tire, and the hood was open, too. They left shortly after I spotted them at 5:00 and I have a feeling that if I hadn’t sent in a certain letter, they’d have blasted Mexican music while doing their shit.

Anyway, I still don’t know if anyone moved out or where the van is, but I do know that they’re trying to make it look like whoever drives the pickup doesn’t live there. Why else would they keep it parked on the street all the time? Especially when there’s no van coming and going in the driveway. I’ll bet it’ll park in the driveway on Sunday, though.

My guess as to the situation is that due to my letter, they canned the music and the kid’s antics. Then they loaned their van to the person that owns the pickup and borrowed the pickup so they could still get around with the intention of parking it on the street to make it appear that this pickup visits a lot. I think they’ll swap back in time.

Later...

Tom was right - that guy does walk around the neighborhood a lot. The bearded guy who looks a little like his brother that was inquiring about the freeloaders. I don’t see how anyone can stand it now. It may’ve been a warm and dry sunrise, but now it’s deathly hot and humid.

I hope Tom isn’t as beat and as sore as he was yesterday due to the conversion going on at work. I feel so bad for him. There’s always something going on with that bank. They treat their employees like machines at this job. They don’t give a shit about running people ragged, and I worry about him all the time. What if he has a heart attack cuz of all the hours and work he’s doing for this fucking bank? Will he ever really have a normal job with normal hours? Or is he forever hexed in the workplace? There should be laws to protect how long and how hard you can work people. People need to have a life. However, when he’s home, he’s usually too tired to do much. At the same time he’s got way more stamina and control over his schedule and how long he stays up, he’s like an old man. He has no energy. It’s a damn good thing I’m not the nympho I used to be, wanting mutual sex, cuz I’d be seriously deprived if I were. The main part of his holding back and being hesitant in bed has always been fear of impregnating me, but another part of it has to do with his low energy and drive. He has very little energy and drive when it comes to things like that. This is one reason I believe the sex would be the same even if I had a hysterectomy. Also, he’s so stubborn and determined to make sure he never changes or admits his fear of impregnating me that he’d make sure he didn’t change as a cover for that if I had to have one. He wouldn’t fool me, though.

If his mom gives us that $5,000 when we move, it’ll get us all we want to get for the house, but Tom said she didn’t say when she’d do this, let alone that she was going to do this for sure. Well, any decent human being would not only not say something like that unless they intended to do it, but they would see someone moving as the right time to do it. Especially someone who was moving that helped her move. I don’t know, though. The decent Marjorie that I knew died when Dad died.

The pickup came and went a few times. It’s been out now for over an hour.

Later...

Debra and Chester just returned. The pickup’s in the street, of course, and it looks like they were unloading bags and boxes of groceries.

Wait a minute…That may not have been Debra. A little girl of about 6 years of age and a woman who was definitely Debra just pulled up in the driveway. Debra had her hair in a bun, so maybe the other woman who got out of the pickup was Fanny.

Later...

Debra just left in the gold car with 3 kids - two girls and a boy. The boy was about 8 and the girls were around 5 and 12. The older girl could’ve even been around 15. I now believe that this car is owned by Debra’s parents. She was playing music softly. I didn’t even know this car had a stereo like that. Anyway, it was very soft, and if she knows what’s good for her, she won’t dare turn up the volume any higher. So then that was her that thumped in, huh? I thought it was someone driving by that turned down one of the side streets, but obviously it wasn’t. Well like I said, if she knows what’s good for her, it won’t get any louder. She’s so lucky we’re moving, though! So lucky! If it weren’t for us moving, she’d have to start looking for a new place to live real soon.

Friday, July 23, 1999

Tom says he found the leak in the car. Great. Now God can go break something else within the car for us to have to deal with while we’re trying to get out of here. Tom got stuff to fix the car’s AC yesterday and even considered putting off signing the 60-day contract for a week but decided against it. Good. I’d rather sweat than be here longer than necessary.

The sooner we can move, the sooner those Mexicans and these blacks, among others back east, can get their little packages. Also, the city can get its final letter from me. Not only does Tom intend to give the mayor a piece of his mind (so he says) but I intend to let the city know just how furious I am with the way these rude lazy bums carry on at our expense, even if it doesn’t do me any good other than just to vent my frustrations.

Speaking of these such people - every time I think I’ve got the freeloaders next door figured out, they throw a curveball at me. Tom says a small, old sports car stood next door in the carport all night (I just couldn’t see it cuz I’m so short) and it’s here tonight, too. That’s why I’ve heard car doors and then got all confused cuz I couldn’t see a vehicle of any kind. The pickup’s still on the street, too, but that’s why it’s been parked on the street. Maybe they aren’t trying to make it look like no cars live there and maybe the city didn’t even bother talking to them regarding my letter.

The only other thing I saw yesterday was Chester and some guy getting out of the pickup. It looks like Chester got a boo-boo and has a bad arm. His forearm was bandaged and he was wearing a Budweiser T-shirt.

I got a kick out of Andy’s message he left me yesterday from work. Yeah, now he’s even calling from work. That’s because he just sits there most of the time with nothing to do, but this job won’t last long. Even if it wasn’t a temp job - all jobs are temp as far as Andy’s concerned. He’ll make it a temp job and he’ll quit if they don’t let him go themselves before too long. Anyway, Andy starts off by saying, “I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard my voice.” I’m like - yeah, a whole 4-5 days! He makes it sound like it’s been months, although to him, not talking to someone on the phone for 4-5 days is like months. At least he’s not calling constantly and bugging me to let him come over so he can use something or have me do something for him.

Later...

Pick-up - recently left on its first trip of the day.

Later...

Pick-up - just returned.

Later...

Unbeknownst to me, till I just checked, the pickup left again, and so did the silver car. What I’m curious to see is if Deb has the nerve to come banging in and out again even louder than yesterday in the gold car.

Saturday, July 24, 1999

Tom evened my hair out and did a wonderful job. Now I have a total of about 16 inches gone and it’s about 8 inches above my waist and 4-5 inches below my shoulders. I intend to leave it alone for a very long time, but meanwhile, I’ll enjoy having it be much less of a burden and I’ll pamper it this time around, too. It’s so nice having even, healthy hair for a change.

Tom worked an unbelievable amount of overtime yesterday. I told him that we can’t afford to have him have no time to do anything but work and sleep during the week, and that weekends weren’t enough to get out of here, but he said we’re moving by the time 60 days is up from Monday no matter what. I hope so! I do vibe it strongly, thank God. He’s decided to take a week to find someone to buy this place privately, but only a week. After that, he’ll call in a Realtor. I hope to hell we can sell it privately, but I won’t hold my breath.

I still wish they’d stop treating Tom at work like he’s some sort of machine. He’s a human being who needs a life. I fear all the time he’ll have a sudden heart attack cuz of all he does for that fucking bank. And that excludes errands and all the prep work he’s been doing.

Pies aren’t the only things that can make life messy. Larry will learn that when he pulls the stuff out of his manila envelope. He’ll be getting a sequin shower.

Tom was out earlier doing some yard work. He’s getting the pool cleaned up now, and he also put some more gunk on the roof. Nothing can permanently seal up this leak while we’re here; just stall it.

No silver car overnight last night next door. Also, I never saw the gold car yesterday. It was quiet all day. Just the pickup came and went. The only other thing to come was a city van. For the first time that I know of since they moved in, the city finally came out. The guy that came went up to work on the cooler. The stupid freeloaders probably think it doesn’t work when in fact it does work; it’s just too damn humid to be noticeable. Being well over 200 pounds probably doesn’t help, either. Anyway, I took a picture of the cooler opened up on the roof while the guy was probably getting something from his van, and one of the pickups and the silver car parked on the street/driveway (of course, no vehicles were there when the city van came). I’m sure they’ll enjoy seeing this!

Since there’s been no music (other than the soft bout in the gold car) and no antics from the kids, I’d still say that the city probably did talk to them regarding my letter.

Later...

Wow. What a long time for next door to remain without a vehicle there. The pickup’s been gone over 3 hours now, and who knows how long the silver car’s been gone.

Sunday, July 25, 1999

The pickup didn’t return till 2:40 yesterday, then it left again 20 minutes later. By that time, I had pretty much quit paying attention. Once again, as is the case 80% of the time, my vibes were right. As I’d sensed, there was no trouble. If the kids have been out after dark raising hell, I wouldn’t know it. I haven’t been up at that time lately and checking, but somehow I doubt they have been. There’s been no music, either. The pickup ought to be making its first trip out any sec now.

Later...

Tom’s at work now, as usual. I swear he’s there more than he’s here! Normally, he doesn’t go in till 7 PM on Sundays, but he had to go in at 6:00 this morning. There goes a whole day lost to prepping. I’m excited about going to sign the contract tomorrow after seeing Melanie, and he better be right about us getting out of here in 60 days no matter what! We’ve agreed to go as low as we have to till the house sells.

It’s a damn good thing I’m not like I used to be - horny and wanting a kid. We’re down to sex biweekly now. Thank God the vibrators are there for if I really feel the need to get off. It’s not that often that I get all that horny, but when I do, I find it’s easiest to just quickly get off and get it over with using the vibrators. This isn’t just because of Tom’s lack of availability, but also, although my husband is no dog, I just don’t have much lust for him. No, I don’t wish I could be with an attractive woman either, just with my imagination and fantasies, which I find to be more reliable and more of a turn-on. So I guess you could say I find it more appealing to be with an attractive woman in my mind and use either a vibrator or my hand, which I can depend on to please me the way I like to be pleased with no excuses or conditions. Like I said, I love Tom emotionally. I love him for him, not for his body.

Just washed my hair. God, it’s so easy and it dries in no time! I can’t believe this straighter hair, though. The last time it was this length it was really curly, then the curl straightened out a little as it got heavier with length. What I wonder is - since it’s wavy now, does that mean it’ll be only slightly wavy if I let it get as long as it was again? And will my sides quit growing at around waist-length like before and let the back keep going and going past it? Will it really be healthier and look better if I don’t dye it or straighten it? You never know. I thought my shortness of breath would go away with quitting smoking but it didn’t. Well, my hair sure as hell is healthier right now! It’s like silk from roots to ends, unlike before when it would go from silk to straw. It’s just too damn thick! Of course, there’s always the chance that it won’t grow back or will grow back much slower than before. Wasn’t it Kim who said something about cutting her hair when it was really long and not being able to grow it back? She’s had it down to the middle of her back, though, these last few years, so who knows?

Later...

I can’t believe we’re already up to 2:00 in the afternoon and the pickup hasn’t moved yet! That and no other vehicles have come or gone that I know of so far today.

Later...

And the weekend company has arrived. I knew they had to have some company, although I don’t know if this is company as opposed to Deb borrowing the blue/green pickup. All I heard was one car door and all I saw was her. She was pulling up a plastic bag from the back of the pickup. No music, though. What? Is she borrowing the gold car and now this pickup since the van’s not around? What’s wrong with her using the white pickup that’s been here since the van’s been gone?

Later...

At 4:30 Deb and 3 guys took off in the blue pickup and guess what’s here now? The white pickup that’s been here, the blue pickup, and the van. A couple of guys are leaving right now in the blue pickup. What? Do they feel the van’s been gone long enough to fool the city? Or did the absence of the van have nothing to do with the city letter?

Anyway, I’m a bit lonely now, what with having been up nearly 12 hours without Tom around. He left right before I got up. Sometimes I’m even lonely when he’s here and when I’m not alone. That’s because he spends so much of his time at home watching TV when he’s awake. I try not to bother him and I try to let him have his TV cuz I know how important it is to him and that he doesn’t spend the time alone that I do. He spends it with the people at work, so I figure he needs a break from people and I try to give him all the space I can.

I swear, though, that something wants to tie him up from spending time with me. First it was his mom that was sucking up all his time and now it’s his job. Maybe it’s for the better, though, cuz the more you miss someone, the more you look forward to seeing them. Perhaps we’d get on each other’s nerves if we were around each other too much. It’s not that we don’t get along, but he can be so sensitive over the dumbest things at times and he gets moody.

I feel like he too, has lost that initial lust and fascination with me that I had had with him, even though he’d deny this, but isn’t that normal? Don’t the lust and the eagerness to see each other wear off in time, along with the curiosity and all that?

The blue pickup’s back now. I should’ve known it would be.

Tuesday, July 27, 1999

I knew there was something about today’s date that bugged me till it hit me - today’s the day back in 1981 that I was admitted to the Brattleboro Retreat where I stayed prisoner till December 17th. God, it’s been 18 years! It’s funny how my mother could finally admit in the end that Brattleboro was a mistake, but not Valleyhead. Yet Valleyhead was much worse.

Let me update next door before I get into our exciting but hot trip out yesterday.

Shortly after my last entry regarding the freeloaders, in the early evening, we were up to 4 vehicles over there. The white pickup, the blue pickup, the silver car, and even the van. There was no music, but we were both suddenly surprised to see so many vehicles over there after it had been pretty mellow there for a while as far as that goes. The van ended up staying there overnight, but I don’t think the silver car has stayed there the last two nights. Last night it was just the white pickup as far as I know, although the blue pickup was visiting. Right now the white pickup and the silver car are here.

The city was next door again yesterday, and again, the pickup was on the street to make it look like it didn’t live here. Anyway, I think they were up on their roof again.

I’m kind of surprised Tammy hasn’t kept calling since that message she left about wanting to work things out.

I’m not surprised, though, that Andy didn’t leave a message during the weekend. He seems to be making sure to leave messages only every other weekend.

Before we left we used that kick-ass, smelly primer that really seals and boy does it ever! Yes, we definitely should’ve used it to begin with. We then switched to the cooler to vent the fumes. Before leaving, I put bowls of ice in the animal’s cages, even though I knew they’d be OK and that they’re more tolerant of humidity and temperature changes than people are. Dogs are left out in 115º weather.

I was in and out of Mel’s quickly. Just 27 more days of these braces! The only thing that can delay the braces from coming off (since my two front teeth are moving back after all, and she didn’t say there’d be a problem) would be if I couldn’t make it or if the doctor decided to play musical appointments on me.

Mel said she liked my hair better this way cuz it was spunky (some of my curl has come back).

On my way out I told Tisha I had wanted to wait till after the braces were off before I had my teeth cleaned, which are now due to be cleaned, but she said I didn’t need to make an appointment for that because cleaning is part of the disbanding. Good. Then I can get both things done at once and all I’ll have to do is go back for retainer checks and fillings.

The ride to Mel’s and to the home dealers was very hot and humid. Although they said it was only to be 104º it felt like 115º. Naturally, Tom who’s a native and tolerant to heat was insisting it wasn’t that hot or that humid. Yeah, right! They gave me some water once I got to their offices, and Tom was laughing later on about how they thought I was going to pass out.

Leona was there and available to deal with us, which seemed to take forever. We had a zillion forms to sign.

There were two disappointments, as far as we were concerned. One was that the washer and dryer weren’t included in the house. They could order it, which they did, but it’d be on a separate delivery. Not with the house like the carpet and the dishwasher will be.

Also, she made it sound like it’d take more like 3 months to get into the house rather than 2. Tom says it’s unlikely we’ll have an apartment layover and I don’t vibe it. God, I hope not! (I told them they should think about having apartments just for people who do have layovers) Apartments in Arizona may be modern and cheaper, but they suck!! They’re so damn noisy. Kids are outside screaming constantly, and the walls are paper-thin. At least this time around, if we do get stuck in an apartment, I’ll have Tom with me and it’ll be for a very short time and I’ll have the fan, rather than a wimpy clock radio to sleep with. Having people next to you or below you can be just as bad as having people above you. You can still hear people’s doors and cabinets closing that are next to and below you, as well as people’s doors, cabinets, and footsteps above you. I know how it is to have someone who walks like an elephant living above you and to have one pissed-off butch next to you! Even if they’re not noisy, and aren’t deliberately trying to stomp around and slam shit, you can still hear them moving about just fine. A box fan should drown out the blowers and mowers they use every day, but a clock radio? Forget it! Just forget it. Remember, I should know.

There’s always the chance that we may not get approved for the loan, and if this does happen, we’ll have to drop this house, get our $1,000 back, and go somewhere else. Even though this model’s the best and the most original, it wouldn’t kill us to have to go to that place near here; the second place we went with that older lady. They had some really nice Cavco models, which wouldn’t be settling in any big way. Certainly not at all compared to this house and where we’ll be living.

We’ll be buying land within the next couple of weeks. We’d be pretty much done with the prep work if a certain somebody had kept up on the garage, but because there are mountains of junk in there, he’ll have to clear that out first. That’ll probably take longer than anything else we’ve got to do around here, like finishing the packing and the yard work. We still have to paint the trim and do a little bit of edging in the house.

Later...

Tom just got in and is in the bathroom now. He said the silver car is here. Fucking lazy assholes! Not only do the freeloaders that live here not work but neither do their associates. They’re all the same, I swear to God! Tom said he’s not sure if he’s gonna write to the mayor since he basically had intended to use the mayor if the house had problems selling which we’re sure it won’t and since it wouldn’t change anything. Sadly enough, there’s probably nothing that can be done to stop these lazy bums from using society to live off of, but I need to vent. It’ll make me feel good, nonetheless, just to write my frustrations to the city and that’s exactly what I intend to do once we’re moved.

Later...

Tom’s gone to bed.

The van’s gone now, and the silver car and the white pickup have been coming and going.

I was just in the old music room checking out how the primer did when an adult male yelled out something that startled the shit out of me. Fucking cock! The fucking adults can be just as loud as their many mistakes. The little Mexicans were working on the van that is in the carport, after all. Them and their fucking working on cars! I’ll bet they work on cars that don’t even need to be worked on. So what is this now? Three vehicles live there now? Anyway, those little lazy shitfucks really piss me off. You don’t know how hard it is to restrain myself from going over there and giving them a piece of my mind about their sick, rude, inconsiderate, lazy ways!!!! Makes me just want to beat the shit out of them! It’s no wonder so many people do beat the snot out of these people. How can they carry on the way they do and not expect to be hated? It’s one thing for someone to have a different lifestyle than I do, which is fine, but when it’s forced upon me and when I’m used, we’ve got a serious problem. If they want to yell and play music, they shouldn’t force it on others or use them to live off. If it weren’t for my promise to Tom, us moving, my having a record, and being a middle-class citizen who’s no longer on disability, I would be bashing their faces right into the brick wall of the house! Really, I’d take them by the nape of their necks and bash their fucking heads right into the bricks! Also, I could hear the faint strains of music, but only in the music room which I’m not in 99% of the time, and which was baseless. They better not be testing me, though, cuz if that music gets louder and bassier, they’re gonna get it!

How many years can they do this, though, and just bum around at the taxpayers’ expense? Aren’t there any laws and limitations? Can they really get away with this forever? I thought I heard something ages ago about how they were changing the welfare system and making it so people would only be on it temporarily till they could become financially independent, and would be cut off after a certain amount of time even if they remained unemployed.

I’m not done with yesterday’s outing, but let me just cover a few other things first.

I mailed Andy a copy of the floor plan of the house we’re getting, along with pictures of me before and after I cut my hair. I had Tom show copies to Mom and Mary, too.

I told Tom I don’t mind sex every other week, but my crotch does. If I do it too much or too little I get irritated down there, and once a week really suits me best these days. I thought it’d be best to just wait till after we’re moved and settled, but he said we could screw tomorrow. Why doesn’t the thought of that excite me? I mean, there’s just no looking forward to it at all. I guess it’s because I know what he’ll do. I know what his every move is gonna be. He’ll be on the side for a short time, and maybe he’ll go on top, although it’s doubtful on a Wednesday, and neither of us will cum. It’s like we mechanically go through the motions without feeling a damn thing. Although I know he has to get a little excited or else he wouldn’t get hard. I still can’t believe his resistance after all these years! Now that’s being determined and stubborn! Imagine all that excitement year after year which you don’t release? God! And he can’t always privately release it right away after we screw either, cuz he knows that’d be too obvious. Sometimes he does, though, in the bathroom or in bed alone. And all he would’ve had to do all along was insist we use birth control from the get-go, and he could’ve had fearless, fulfilling sex ever since, but like I said, I want him to be happy. Even if I still wanted a kid and could conceive, I’d give that up just so he could be happy and not feel like he had to change or be controlled, although I also think it’s his nature to have a low drive and low energy in bed.

Now here’s something that makes no sense whatsoever. He bitches to me that he doesn’t want me to say he won’t do whatever, then I don’t, and he still doesn’t do it. How can he expect me to take him at face value and assume he’ll do what he says he’s gonna do if he doesn’t? He still hasn’t ordered the CDs he said he was going to order, yet I never said he wouldn’t in the first place, so see? He even doesn’t do the things I don’t say he’s not going to do. He can’t blame his fears/procrastination on others. And he doesn’t want me saying he won’t do something he says he’s gonna do? Well, what does he expect? I guess it’s an obsession with him.

Anyway, we made the last-minute changes we wanted to make with Leona. I put back the carpet in the bathrooms, but still want the dining area in vinyl. We’re still not sure just where the edges of the vinyl will be since it’s an oddly shaped area. Meaning, the kitchen, dining area, living room, and den, are all kind of connected. We are getting a regular tub with a shower in it for the second bath, which comes with a pretty, decorative, lacy shower curtain that’s not really a shower curtain. It’s gathered at the side, and of course, it wouldn’t keep water out. At first I thought we better take the one we’re using here, but then I changed my mind upon realizing that it’d clash with the tulip wallpaper that’s going in there. So, I’m just gonna get a clear or a plain white shower curtain to use inside the decorative one. This bath has a skinny window that doesn’t open, but it’ll sure be nice to have natural light in there. Tom said he wasn’t too thrilled with the low sinks, though. I’m trying to get one of the sinks in the master bath omitted and shelves put in its place, but if I can’t, I can’t. In this bath, you have a sink in the southwest corner of the room from a doorway’s point of view. The tub’s in the northwest corner and next to it is another sink, then a tall skinny cabinet, then the toilet, then the shower stall in the southeast corner. I’m hoping to do away with the sink that’s to the left of the doorway and get another set of cabinets there. Then there’ll be even more space for sheets and bath accessories. Then it’ll just be a question of what things should go in which bath. Some things will be best in both baths. For example, I want both baths to have pails. The second bath only has space under its sink, but as Tom said, he can get a medicine cabinet for $30 if he really wants one and put it in himself.

Tom’s gonna do the cable and phone jacks himself after we’ve furnished the place. We did agree to their outrageous fee of $105 to wire the master bedroom, den, and my office for ceiling fans, but they don’t supply the fans. That’s OK, though, cuz we have 4 fans. We’re also gonna do our own awnings for the windows or whatever we want to stick on windows and doors. We got a 5-ton heat pump. Wow, that’s big. This one’s 3½.

Later...

Jesus Christ! There goes another vehicle I’ve never seen before pulling out of next door. I’ve lost track of how many vehicles have been in and out of there, but it’s got to be at least 25-30. It was a light tan-colored pickup. A newer smaller one than the cream-colored one with the rails that has been staying here lately. See? I was right when I said they’d not only not work and be loud assholes, but that they’d have a lot of “friends.” Assholes always know lots of assholes. It’s back again now. I know these people have something to do with drugs. They’re still doing their bullshit work on the van that Mexicans are notorious for. As long as I stay out of the old music room, which I have no need to go into but to put his clothes away after I wash them, I can’t hear their voices and their soft Mexican music. If their voices reach the living room and kitchen and if their music becomes their loud Mexican music, then they’ll be hearing from both me and the city, but definitely from me.

I suppose the blue pickup, which showed up here late afternoon yesterday, will be here to join the crowd any sec now.

Later...

I just might not finish yesterday’s outing today after all.

Andy’s been fired. I called his machine to see if he’d gotten the message I left earlier about yesterday’s outing which he did. If he was still working the hours he said he was, he wouldn’t have gotten the message yet. So, he’s already been fired, huh? I knew he’d make them fire him if they didn’t lay him off, but that could be the case instead. He could’ve been laid off.

Anyway, I finally got to pick out colors. There weren’t a zillion choices, but it was still fun, and having more choices may’ve made it all the harder to choose. The only thing I wasn’t too happy with was that there were only two floor choices. A wooden plank design, and white. I chose white but would have preferred soft pastel colors. Again, things show up against white, but at least it’s much more bright and cheerful than brown. And the deep dingy yellows, oranges, and browns that are in this flooring.

I don’t have a list of my choices, so I’ll list them according to memory. Out of the dumpy carpet they had, they had spruce, denim, and spice. I chose spice, a wine-red shade. The denim sample dot looked way too dark but when we saw it laid out in the model, it looked lighter, so I’m sure that this spice carpet won’t look as dark laid out, either.

I chose whitewash cabinets, and for the countertops, I chose a design that consists of a splattering of little speckles of two different shades of white. This was the only acceptable choice if you ask me. The rest were hideous.

I chose wallpaper for the kitchen and bathrooms of a faint tulip design.

Pompeii White was my choice for the vinyl walls which I couldn’t do wall art on even if I wanted to. It’s a totally different texture than drywall.

They had about 16 exterior colors in neutral, blue, and green shades. The body of the exterior of the house is going to be Scandinavian Blue (light blue) and the trim will be Everest White (bright white). The two roof choices were brown and white and I picked white.

The valances get a little complicated, but fun, like Leona said. You pick out a packet containing 3 designs. I chose the Catalina packet that contains a solid blue color, colorful flowers, and colorful lines crisscrossing one another. Blue is the predominant color in this packet which I think will go well with the spice carpet. I like contrasting colors. However, you don’t tell them where you want which design. They decide that and they also decide whether or not you get balloon-shaped valances, straight ones, or ones that are draped over a rod sagging in the middle with its ends hanging off to the sides. I think they’ll put the solid blue ones in the den and living room that are draped over the rod, flowers in the kitchen, master bath, master bedroom and retreat, and lines in the other bedrooms and bath. As Leona said, if we don’t like the way they do it, we can change them around or replace them. I want to get white blinds for all the windows except for the two bedroom windows. Those will get shades cuz they keep light out better. They may look funny with valances, though, so I may get long curtains for these windows. The master bath has two big windows too, but I can always shut the bathroom and retreat doors when I’m sleeping during the daytime if I want to keep light out.

Later...

No wonder the freeloaders were out and about working on the van (I think they’re done for now) and having company today. It was only 102º. In fact, I think this is the coolest day we’ve had in a while. The cooler it gets, the more they’re gonna be out. The less company they have, the better I feel. Even though there’s been no music and there doesn’t have to be any company for there to be music what with that stereo they’ve got in their living room, but it’s just better to have less of them around. The more of these Mexicans you throw together, the more trouble and noise can come of it.

Later...

Damn! Here we go again. Vehicle number God knows what has come and gone. An old dark red Grand Prix pulled in with two guys in it who didn’t get out of the car right away. Chester came walking up to the car a couple of minutes after they pulled in. Just as I was wondering if I was gonna see a drug transaction go down, the two guys got out of the car just as some guy was pulling up and exiting the silver car. The two guys in the red car then hugged the silver car guy, then all 4 guys, just kids between the ages of 18-22 or so, walked towards the house. Both cars are now gone but will be back any sec, of course. The van and the cream pickup are still here, though, but what is this? The weekend? Is something going on? Or is this just how they’ll always be when it’s under 105º? Is the blue pickup coming any sec, too? I just thank God the ranchero and white car have disappeared and I hope to hell it stays that way while we’re still here. I went out back before the silver and red car left, expecting to hear tons of screaming, but all I heard was soft, baseless Mexican music.

The silver car just returned. It looks like Chester’s arm is still a boo-boo. The driver got out carrying a beer. Drinking and driving, huh? Way to go, freeloaders! Way to go!

How many fucking people are living there?! There’s got to be at least 4-5 adults and 4-5 kids.

It’s still a 50/50 guess as to whether or not the city discussed my letter with them. I want to say yes, they did since there’s been no loud bassy music heard all throughout our house, but then I want to say no because it’s still overcrowded with a ton of vehicles coming and going and staying there overnight. As long as they keep their music out of this house, we’ll be OK. Even though there hasn’t been blasting music or a ton of door slamming, I wish they’d drop down to having just the van if they have to have a vehicle be there. All these vehicles get me all nervous.

Until the next slew of vehicles comes in, I’ll write more on the house.

We got to see the model again and it was so much bigger than we remembered it to be. It’s hard to tell from the floor plan layout, but the corner just outside the master bedroom is huge. Huge enough to hold a hutch full of dolls if I wanted. I had just thought of that idea right before Tom brought it up, too. Also, I was half wrong in saying the spare bedrooms were smaller than the music room. The music room is about 12x12, and all the spare bedrooms are 10x13. So it’s shorter one way, but longer the other way.

The front door has a small diamond-shaped window, and I forgot just how fancy those kitchen shelves were! They’re the cabinet tops, actually, which have pretty gold and wooden rails running along them. Plants would look great up there, but maybe my collector’s plates would too. I’m gonna have to get plate holders for them.

Wednesday, July 28, 1999

Now who the hell was that? The cream pickup just pulled up with its squeaky brakes and out came two big bazookas. One of them may’ve been Deb, and the other, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before. Fanny and Deb look white but this blimp was definitely a Mexican and was carrying a baby. Again, how many adults and kids live in that little shithole?

So, we left off with there being the cream pickup, the tan pickup, the silver car, and the van, huh? Well, at 7:30 the dark red car reappeared (I knew it would) and stayed put till around 11:00. The tan pickup didn’t leave till after 1 AM. When I got up at 7:30 this morning, I saw the van, silver car, and cream pickup parked out front.

I can’t wait to get away from these freeloaders! Meanwhile, they better keep their fucking music out of this house!

So what was going on yesterday? Were we just being typical lazy freeloaders who always have to come here for a gathering? Or was Chester having a birthday or something like that? And how many carloads of company will they have today?

Typical Andy and his not listening. I told him in my message to him yesterday that we haven’t found the land yet, yet what does he do? Asks if we found the land yet. Anyway, I told him more about the house and that there could be a potential pitfall. There’s a chance we won’t get approved for the loan on this house, and if we don’t, we’ll have to go somewhere else. This could either speed up or delay the move. There’s no way of knowing for sure. I sure hope we get this house, but if we don’t, it won’t be the first time I didn’t get something I wanted.

I forgot to mention yesterday how long this house is looking at it from the outside as well as the inside. As we stood at the front door, the master bedroom and bath were to our right, but when we looked towards the left where the spare bedrooms and bath were, it was like an endless wall! The house is so long. When I was inside standing just outside the master bedroom looking down towards the den through the dining area and the kitchen, it seemed miles away!

Also, she made a mistake in our favor that she said she’ll live with. She told us the glamour bath I want for the master bath was $750, but it’s really $1,050.

The ride back wasn’t quite as bad as the ride up at first cuz the sun was behind clouds. When we got home, though, my face was totally heat-flushed. It looked sunburned. I was sweating my ass off and threw myself into a cool shower.

Later...

The doorbell just rang and a guy from the city said he picked up the garbage around the dumpster that “this address” complained about by way of email. I told him I didn’t know anything about it and that if my husband had complained, he’d have told me. He gave me ‘no dumping’ stickers to put up anyway. I asked him if he knew what the story with next door was and he said he didn’t know any of the homes were owned by the city, he just deals with garbage.

So I take it someone complained and used our address? My first guess as to who would do that would be the collie people. My second guess would be that older woman, Gloria, who lives behind us. The freeloaders are last on my guess list to complain about trash cuz they are trash themselves so it’s all the same to them. They’re notorious for being filthy and for living amongst piles of trash. In fact, the trash that's been thrown out there is their trash.

Later...

I’m in tears now. I just discovered Mickey dead.

Thursday, July 29, 1999

Let me update a few things before I get into the latest showdown with next door.

I see so many commercials on TV about giving money to poor kids in other countries, and once again I wonder when this constant using of others is going to stop. If the parents in these countries were so poor, then they shouldn’t have been stupid enough to go having kids, and if they couldn’t afford birth control, all they would’ve had to do was keep sex confined to just before periods, during periods, and just after periods and their chances of conceiving would’ve been next to nil.

Andy left a rather defensive message in regards to my asking him if he got fired or laid off from his job, saying that he told me it was a temp job and that he only wanted to work part-time so don’t push it. And I told him that I didn’t care. I wasn’t pushing it. I was simply asking a question. But of course, Andy doesn’t listen very well. Meanwhile, it’s his life and I don’t care what he does with it. He can work full-time, part-time, or no-time for all I care. He can drug himself up, he can slam his head in the wall, he can play his keyboard, he can sing, he can order a pizza, he can go to Vegas, he can call his mom, he can take a walk with Michelle, he can dream about Quinn, he can pick his nose, he can win the lottery, he can watch TV, he can go to the moon - I don’t care!

God, I hate Intergroup! They just sent me what they claim is my third notice for the urine sample they took many months ago which is coverable by Intergroup. All we’re supposed to pay is a $5 co-payment and that’s it. What? Is this my payment for bitching about the doctor not calling Walgreens back right away? Can one ever make a legit complaint in this world without being punished for it?

I asked Tom, but he confirmed what I already figured - he didn’t complain about the freeloader’s trash. We don’t know if someone deliberately used our address or if our address was used only to describe what house this particular dumpster is behind, but we don’t care. The guy gave us a couple of ‘no dumping’ signs, but we didn’t want to put them up cuz we’re gonna be doing some dumping of our own if the freeloader’s shit would ever get out of our way. Tom thought they’d make good prankster signs so we’ll be thinking of what to do with them, but if we can’t come up with anything, I’ll just send one to Tammy and one to the freeloaders.

We received a city letter ordering us to chop down our weeds and overgrown grass in the backyard. I asked Tom if he thought a meter reader spotted the overgrown grass and weeds and made the complaint, or if he thought it could be the guy who came to work on the freeloader’s cooler who spotted it, but he said he thinks it’s cuz of my complaint. He said that if you spend too much time complaining to the same address, they get sick of it, even if you do have a case, and start citing you for shit cuz they just don’t want to deal with your problems, so now it’s time to move up the ladder and go to this person’s boss, then this person’s boss, etc. I don’t know if he’s right or not on this, but I do know now that they couldn’t have talked to the freeloaders about my letter. I thought that since they did settle down over there for a while after my threats to have them evicted they did care about getting evicted, but obviously they do not. Either that or they do, but just don’t think it can happen.

Leading up to the showdown with next door yesterday - I saw a guy put a couple of things that looked like toolboxes in the back of the silver car, then he took off.

A city van was over there at 4:00 for a short time, then the Ranchero returned shortly afterward and totally ruined my already depressing day, what with Mickey dying whom Tom buried out back, and our plans for today. Because I had to get Tom up a few hours earlier than he was planning on getting up, he had to sleep today. So they made us lose another day of prepping/packing and that doesn’t go over very well with me. I don’t like being controlled like that and having to put our life on hold cuz of some sick asshole’s shit, and I really believe we’re gonna be stuck here more than 60 days, too. Things are really shitty right now, and you black bitch, why’d you have to move?!

Anyway - here’s what happened: The Ranchero came banging in really loud. Loud enough to wake me had I been asleep, and out came a young woman with two little kids. Then the stupid shitfucks decided to blare the fucking thing for a few minutes before leaving. That’s when I woke Tom up, who I couldn’t believe slept through it since I knew there’d be a better chance of them listening to him than to me. He went out and asked them to turn it down. Deb, who was getting in the passenger side, said they were leaving. I knew they’d come blasting right back in, and they did. Not as loud, but loud enough to make me blow a fuse. I ran out and yelled, “Do you have a problem with me?” And Deb rolled her eyes. Then we both were screaming at each other. I told her to turn her fucking music down, that I didn’t want to know they exist, and that I was going to push to have them evicted for damn sure. I couldn’t make out much of what she told me other than - after we tried to be nice to you - get your white ass inside and don’t come out again. The woman with the Ranchero stood by silently, and 2-3 guys came walking out front with smirks on their faces. Yeah, males love to see women go at it, don’t they?

Then Tom, naturally, had to make it seem like I was the one in the wrong and that I was wrong for going out there, but what do you expect? Most people would go out there and yell and scream even if it is a complete waste of time. Meanwhile, I didn’t do anything wrong except for my swearing. I could’ve slapped the fat right off of that cunt for telling me to get in my own house and don’t come out, which no one does. No one orders me around. I was here first. I have more rights and seniority around here as far as I’m concerned. If you go into a neighborhood and you can’t get along with your neighbors and you can’t fit in, that’s your problem. This is a predominantly white, quiet neighborhood and they’re the ones who need to think about going to a Mexican neighborhood if they can’t cut it here, and obviously they can’t. I can’t be the only one they’ve driven crazy. What are they gonna do when they fuck with and go up against some homicidal maniac, huh? How long can they expect to keep shitting on their neighbors like this and not cross paths with someone who’ll do a lot more than just yell at them? What are they gonna do after they’ve instigated and antagonized and harassed more people and then they find themselves staring down the barrel of a gun? They’re gonna get themselves killed by someone if they keep this shit up. You can only badger and push someone so far. How much more pressure can I take? I’ve been dealing with next door’s shit since 1996 now, so how much further can I be pushed until I snap? I don’t own a gun and I wouldn’t use one if I did unless it was to defend myself, but I do own fists. These women are too big and too out of shape to handle me if I were to go after their lazy asses. There’s no way they could move fast enough to stop me from beating them silly. I could wrap them around their basketball pole permanently if I wanted to. All I can do is hope to hell they don’t make me do that, cuz I don’t need that shit. No one does. No one wants to have to resort to physical harm. At least I don’t, although I will if I have to and am forced to.

Maybe Tom’s right when he said Deb looked Mexican, or else she wouldn’t have referred to my ass as white. Well, whether or not they’re all blacks, Mexicans, white, purple, green, striped, polka-dotted, or some of each - I’m sick of their shit! That’s all I can say.

And what’s this “after we tried to be nice to you” shit? They did? How is blasting their music and screaming just outside our windows being nice to me? I’m sorry, but I’d call that rude and inconsiderate.

So then the freeloaders called the cops and lied their asses off to them, then we spoke with the cops which turned out to be a very nice, informative conversation. I was hoping they’d call the cops, and am glad they did. I want it on record that these people are a problem. Their calling the cops gave me a faint sliver of hope that just maybe they did want to resolve this matter, even if they went about it in a lying way, cuz they could’ve blasted us out big time and not bothered to talk to the cops, although Tom disagrees. He thinks that their calling the cops is a sign saying they’re vengeful and out to get us. Oh, I know that. I’ve always felt that unless you’re scared, if you call the cops on someone every time you get pissed at them, you’re childish and immature. It’s like being a little tattletale running to mommy. Either way, whether they did it to set things straight or to cause more trouble, I just think it’s still good to have this on record.

The sick bitch told them I called her a racial slur when in fact I never used one word regarding color or race. She did. She’s the one that referred to my ass as being white, but that’s OK. There’s what she says I said, then there’s what I really said, and I know the truth. My only violation was yelling at people who just don’t fucking care or get it and using the word fucking. Other than that, I did nothing wrong. The cop said he’d be mad too, if I said half the things they said I said, and I knew right then and there that they went beyond exaggerating. They LIED. They said anything and everything to make me look just horrible, but it didn’t work, cuz like the guy said - he wasn’t here to judge, just talk to us and give us advice. Even so, I’m sure he could get a handle on just which side was telling the truth and even he said that they were being childish. Yeah, they are, and it’s gonna get them into some serious trouble if they don’t knock it off. Just like with the blacks, I never did a damn thing wrong to these people. They’re the ones that started this shit and I’m gonna finish it for them. They’re the ones who chose to harass me. They’re the ones that are rude and inconsiderate. They’re the ones doing wrong, and you’re damn right I’m prejudiced, but only my husband knows that. How can freeloaders such as what lived there before and like these sickos shit on people as they do and expect not to be hated? They shit on me. See what I mean, though? They always gotta use race as a crutch. Yes, I hate the ways of blacks and Mexicans, but even so, this is not racially motivated. It’s noise-motivated. It’s keep-your-noise-for-your-ears-only motivated. It’s leave-me-alone motivated. I didn’t do shit to deserve this shit from these people. They’re the ones that shit on me!

Meanwhile, I could tell that the cops could tell that they were the ones to start the shit with us. He said he did tell them that they were in violation of the law in 3 different ways and that they claimed they didn’t know that. Yeah, typical freeloaders. Gotta play dumb. Use race as an excuse, use race as a crutch, then play dumb. They didn’t know it was wrong to invade someone else’s home with such loud music? Come on! Give me a fucking break! I know Mexicans are stupid as well as lazy but are they this stupid?

Anyway, as the cops told us, it is against the law to be noisy and there is a non-emergency number we can call for noise. We didn’t know this. It’s nice to know, but what good would it do us if they’d be long gone by the time the cops arrived? Again, I could kill the guy who created these kinds of stereos which I can’t believe are even legal! He also suggested we set up our camcorder and send a certified letter to our councilman if we have to, and that he sees a nasty situation brewing. It’s only as nasty as they make it. The ball’s in their court. We can end this right now by having them shut up and me not yelling at them, or we can keep on going here. It’s up to them. We’ll go to court together, we’ll write certified letters, whatever it takes. Of course, though, I’d rather that we just get the fuck out of here sooner than the 60 days are up and not have to deal with their shit anymore!! And the cops say they agreed to keep it down and their company’s music too, yeah right! Seems I’ve heard that line of bullshit before.

Fucking blacks and Mexicans! You bet I hate them! What do they expect after shitting on people the way they do? You can’t fuck with someone, especially someone that never did a damn thing to you in the first place to deserve it, then expect to be liked and live problem-free. If you want to multiply like cockroaches and play music - fine. Just keep your fucking music out of my house! And don’t go screaming just outside people’s windows either, although I don’t even care anymore if they yell and scream outside all day and all night long since we’re moving.

I asked the cop if he thought they’d be quiet and his answer was just as expected - for a while. Till things simmer down. Yup. That’s how it always works. They shut up for a while then they think they can just suddenly get away with their shit and you get a whole new round of noise harassment from them. So, I expect I’ll be hearing from them by Labor Day at the latest, if not sooner. Well, like I said, the ball’s in their court. They want to fuck with me, I’ll fuck with them right back and we will go to higher authorities. If they want to make this a competition - fine, but I can tell you one thing for sure - they won’t win. They won’t win. They don’t stand a chance. We may have more to lose in life since we’re homeowners and they’re not, but they won’t win. There’s a price to pay for the people you fuck with and then say you “tried” to be nice to.

Tom said he’d have to be really careful working out front cuz these are the kinds of people that do drive-by shootings. He may be a paranoid kind of guy, but he’s right - these are gang bangers who don’t care if they live or die. Well, you’ve got to have a serious death wish for sure if you’re bold enough to shoot someone you just had a fight with. It’d only be too obvious who the shooter was, and I’m gonna tell you something right now, if they ever harm my husband, come to my door, make bodily threats, or raise a hand to us, I will take action.

The cop, who had a gorgeous black female partner that was totally my type and not at all butchy, said he understands that it’s hard to ignore neighbors you don’t like when they’re infringing upon your privacy, peace and quiet. Damn right! I don’t want to fight with these people, OK? I don’t want to. But they’re making me. They’re making me have to. I hate being backed into a corner like this with no choice but to battle it out with someone! This is a totally stupid and dangerous thing on their part for them to be doing. What if I lose it on them? I know I asked that before regarding the previous freeloaders and I didn’t, but still, what if it’s different with these freeloaders?

We also brought up the fact that that house is city-owned and subsidized and that there are a ton of cars coming and going 24 hours a day, and that most of the people there aren’t supposed to be living there and asked why the city doesn’t check this out. He said that their mail may be a way to prove people are living there that aren’t supposed to be, but that no one can just go through their stuff to see that there’s stuff in there for more people than that are supposed to be there, cuz that’s a violation of their rights. It is? Then why do they do search warrants? The city inspects for other things, don’t they? So why not inspect for illegal residents?

I wasn’t too happy with Tom who later lectured me about swearing and calling them sp*cs and that people out here don’t call them that, cuz that’s an East Coast thing, and he’s not gonna tell me what they’re called out here. But I didn’t call them that, the fucking lying cunt! I never used one racial slur cuz that wasn’t the issue. The issue was their loud music. Then he said it was against the law to swear outside in public and that they tried to say they had a right to play their stereo and the cops told them, no you don’t. Not for other people, anyway. You want to listen to music, YOU listen to it. Don’t involve others. God, people can’t even do the littlest simplest, most reasonable things! How unreasonable and how hard can it be to turn your music down and keep it to yourself? Why does that have to be such a big deal to people?

I’ll tell you one thing that’s obvious - they’re just as prejudiced as I am. I’ve never seen one white person over there, and for them to mention my white ass, and treat us as they have, I’d say they’re even more prejudiced than I am.

All I’ve seen so far today is the usual comings and goings of the silver car and the cream pickup, but the van hasn’t moved yet. There was also a white car I’ve never seen before with another huge family I’ve never seen before. Besides being huge weight-wise, like they all seem to be, this woman had short auburn hair.

I just saw Deb pull up in the street in the pickup. She was wearing pink shorts and a flowered tank top with a white background, and her hair was up in a pom-pom bun looking like a little poodle. She went around to the passenger window and covered it with a dark blue towel. Then she grabbed a plastic bag of groceries. They get groceries every day! It shows, too. Damn Mexicans!

Anyway, I’m sick and tired of these freeloaders coming between us, fucking with our plans, and stressing me out/pissing me off the way they do. At least I slept really well last night, unlike when I had my little squabble with the black bitch. After me and Miss Bitch had it out, I woke up every hour and had numerous dreams concerning her and her sick associates. This time, though, I slept great and dreamt of dolls. The only negative thing to invade my dreams was the usual - Dureen, Art, and Larry.

I’m just soooooooooo sick of assholes shitting on me next door!!!!!!! In fact, I’m even sick to death of writing about these sick fucks for now. I don’t even want to think about these shits.

Friday, July 30, 1999

Just 24 days to go till these braces come off if the doctor keeps our appointment.

Another reason I can’t wait to move is cuz of all the spiders we’ve been finding in here. A ton of them! Like 3-4 a day!

The freeloaders didn’t have any company yesterday late afternoon or evening and I can’t say I’m too surprised in light of Wednesday’s incident. They’ll be up to their old shit again soon enough, though. It may take a few weeks, but we’ll have to deal with them again, trust me. But hey, if they force me to deal with them, they’ll be forced to deal with me.

Tom said the usual 3 vehicles were next door when he got in, but since I’ve been up, there hasn’t been anything over there.

I’ve got the cordless headphones here and a CD running continuously cuz at around 4:00 I’m going to put them on. These freeloaders can be noisy any day and at any time. However, weekends do tend to bring out the worse in these sick assholes, and so do the late afternoons/early evenings. With the headphones, though, I won’t hear it if they’re starting shit with us, and therefore, I won’t risk snapping and going out there and snapping them and ending up in a noisy, cold, dirty, dingy jail cell.

Last night, early in the evening, Tom was at his computer in the back room alcove and he said he heard banging and what he thought was music coming from next door, although he couldn’t be sure. Well, I didn’t hear anything, but I got to thinking about it, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if these childish fucks went banging their walls with hammers, knowing that if the cops came all they’d have to do is say they were simply hammering a nail into the wall to put up a picture, but that they don’t know anything about any music and have been home and quiet the whole time. Yeah, I know. Even I can be childish, cuz didn’t I do the same thing for the blacks? Anyway, this just proves that I was wrong and Tom was right. They don’t mind pushing it and they don’t mind getting evicted, after all. Unless they don’t think they can and that could very well be the case and I really don’t think the city told them about my letter. After my letter about the blacks, the cock that wasn’t supposed to be there moved out and they quieted down, even if this didn’t happen right away. Meanwhile, a ton of people that aren’t supposed to be there are still there, and Deb wasn’t the least bit concerned about her ranchero gal pal banging in and out, so I’m not sure which one it is, but it’s one or the other; they don’t care about getting complained on/evicted, or they don’t think they can get evicted and were never even told about my complaint.

OK, enough freeloader talk and on to better things - our $1,000 check cashed! That’s a very good sign, Tom says, cuz it’s a hassle for them to rewrite checks. Meaning, the fact that they cashed this check and had us sent some forms regarding closing costs and buying houses, tells us there’s a damn good chance the loan was approved, even though Leona hasn’t called yet. We think today’s her day off.

Later...

The blue pickup is next door now. I’ve got the headphones on music when I’m cleaning or want to go into the music room to listen to it, and off-dialed to create static when I want to concentrate on reading without being distracted. As long as they don’t die on me, I’ll keep them on till 10:00 or 11:00, then recharge them up again for tomorrow. While we’re still stuck here, though, I like being “deaf.” Especially when it’s not late at night or early in the morning.

I know this is pure fantasy, but I wish I could read August’s journal. I always thought it’d be so neat to be able to read what I was going to write in the future before it’s happened, rather than to write it after it’s happened, or as it happens.

I never thought I’d be blessed enough to say this but I’m glad I didn’t have a kid back when I used to want one, and if I had to start all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. We’d never be where we are today and where we’re going to be if I had had a kid. I’d rather live my life for my husband and for buying things than live for impossible dreams with not much extra cash to spare like what used to be the case. I know it sounds selfish, and I would’ve made the necessary sacrifices if I’d had no choice, but am still glad things turned out the way they did.

I just try to think about the move when next door stresses me out, and the things we’ll be buying once we get there, and I’m so excited! I know God will never allow me quiet neighbors no matter where I go, but just think - they won’t be welfare bums! They won’t be 3’ away! New stuff for Tom! New dolls! New furniture! New towels, dishes, decorations, etc.! Can’t wait for the CD changer and home gym. He was worried I’d be worried cuz of how secluded it’ll be, what with having asthma and all that. As I told him, if it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go, and if an asthma attack doesn’t kill me, something else will.

Saturday, July 31, 1999

I woke up rather depressed today with a nervous stomach. I’ve had the runs twice today, thanks to Deb, her just-as-sick pals, and the whole damn city itself. I just did not want to get up and deal with another day here. Period. It was just such a bummer when I awoke to face another day here, but things could be much worse. Imagine if every single vehicle that lives next door and that visits blared their stereos when they’d come and go! That’d be 50 times a day! That’d make the cock’s 6 times a day seem like nothing. I just can’t believe all this shit I’ve had to deal with living in a house. In a house! I never would’ve thought houses could feel so much like apartment living, but what do you expect when you have a pack of freeloaders just a few feet away and stereos that can be heard for miles?

At least there’s a way out. There is light at the end of the tunnel. I didn’t necessarily have that in the past. Remember? Things went from bad to worse upon moving from Springfield to Deerfield, and even more so upon moving from there to Connecticut. The only difference between coming to Arizona and where we’re going is that I’ve had much more time to anticipate our upcoming move. I didn’t know I was coming out here till about a week before it actually happened, I didn’t quite know what I was getting into, and it obviously wasn’t always a bowl of cherries what with some of the neighbors I’ve had at the Vista, Crystal Creek, and here.

Anyway, the blue pickup came back last night at least once more that I know of, and so far today, the cream pickup had been in and out 5 times before I’d barely been up for two hours.

Wait till I tell you about last night. It was 10:30. Late enough to take the headphones off. Or so I thought. As soon as I did, I heard that all too familiar bass thumping obnoxiously throughout the whole house. Immediately I blamed it on next door, and that’s where it certainly sounded like it was coming from. I couldn’t believe just how much they were pushing it and how bold and daring they could be! And so soon, too. All I kept thinking was - he’s right. They don’t care if they get evicted and I’m sure they don’t care if they live or die. So, I got him up like I agreed I would, and he said he warned me about this, then went and listened by the music room window. He said we’d call that non-emergency number as soon as we knew for sure it was them, and I was like, as soon as we know? Well, who else could it be?! Then he pointed out how we just heard a vehicle leaving from next door, but the music hadn’t stopped. That’s cuz it was coming from inside the house, I said, but then I went into the living room and noticed right away that it got louder. How could that be if it were coming from inside their house and if there were no cars in their driveway? Well, it wasn’t the freeloaders at all. Can you believe it was a car parked on the street in front of the renters?! The renters, who I had just been thinking - wow. What great, quiet neighbors. It was an old beat-up gray car that I’ve never seen before that was just visiting, thank God, filled with a herd of teenage Mexicans. Yeah, those fucking blacks and Mexicans cause more trouble than anyone! Anyway, these kids would’ve been arrested if a cruiser had gone by, cuz they were drinking. You’re not supposed to drink in public. Especially when the booze isn’t contained in an unmarked container and they were also underage. Tom and I saw them as we were headed out to go to Jack-n-the-Box, which I offered to go with him cuz he was worried I’d go after someone. Anyway, hearing this car across the street made me wonder if some of the times I’ve heard music that I was so sure was coming from next door was really from across the street. And maybe that stereo system we saw delivered wasn’t really that or wasn’t as good of one as we thought. 4-5 days ago when I heard that Mexican music, it was definitely coming from next door. But this was a baseless, low-quality piece of shit this music was coming from. The kind of radio you’d have in the 70s. I’m not saying I’m right for sure about this, but if you have a nice stereo, why play music on an old piece of shit?

Lying to the police wasn’t the first time she lied about me. She tried to bullshit us that time we were all talking, saying I told her guests to shut their fucking music up. Bull fucking shit I did! I asked them politely, unlike the last time, since politeness didn’t work with them and since I was fed up, to please lower their music.

Later...

No activity yet next door. They just have their animals out roaming around their driveway and in the pickup. Fine. That’s nothing compared to the bass. If we weren’t moving then that’d be different. I wouldn’t want kids screaming just outside my windows like these animals do for what could end up being years since they’ll probably be here till 2002. You can tell these wild things haven’t had an ounce of discipline and when they have, it’s been in a violent way. All Deb does is cuss and no doubt beat them when they do wrong.

I’d think that they’d be thrilled to see us move, but I don’t know. Maybe they won’t want us to go cuz then they couldn’t harass us anymore and force their loud sick ways on us, but they can always do that with new folks. I’m sure they will too.

Tom mowed the backyard. We still have the side of the house to do, the weeding in the front, side, and back, and the hedges and trees. I just hope to hell we’re not forced to spend even more money and time on a fucking pool fence. I’m sick of us paying for other people’s kids. Our taxes pay for their school buses and so much more, and again, what are people doing paying taxes toward kids they don’t even have? Talk about a fucked up system! Shouldn’t parents be paying for their own kids? Shouldn’t that be their responsibility? Anyway, it should be up to someone moving in here with kids to fence the pool, not us. We weren’t the ones who needed the fence.

I’d like to think that these freeloaders next door are simply plain old noisy, rude, inconsiderate, lazy, and selfish people. Not murderers who’ll shoot Tom when he’s out front doing yard work, cuz I’m gonna tell you one thing right now - if they shoot him, they’ll have to shoot me, too. If they shoot him, I’ll kill them, then I’ll make them shoot me, or I’ll hang myself.

I had yet another round of computer problems which Tom fixed. I’m totally hexed with these things and have been contemplating going back to writing journals or settling for an electric typewriter. I was cleaning my monitor and my keyboard and I guess that during my cleaning the keyboard I fucked things up, but for now, they’re back on track. There’ll be another problem before a week’s up.

I can think of a lot of pros to not having kids and one of them is sparing them from the sick people in this world. How do you tell a kid, unless you let them find out on their own, that there are people that are going to hate them for no reason and that will harass them for no reason, and that trying to ignore them won’t work cuz they won’t let you? And that you don’t have to be a troublemaker in society for others to give you trouble. You can try to live in peace, but you probably won’t be able to, cuz trouble will come to you no matter what. You can’t avoid people’s selfish, mean, vindictive ways no matter how hard you try to.

One of the vengeful quotes in the bible says, “Woe to those with children.” I say, “Woe to those who move in here.”

Another reason I woke up bummed today was cuz I misunderstood something Tom told me last night. Never was I more relieved to find out I misunderstood him! All those papers he got yesterday were forms to fill out so that they can go ahead with the loan approval. They don’t build the house till your loan’s been approved and till your house sells. Well, I misunderstood him and thought he was saying that they weren’t gonna build the house till September 25th, the day the 60 days expire. Boy, was I depressed when I thought that! I was like, oh no! We’re stuck here till late November! We’re going to be aggressive with selling this house so hopefully, hopefully, they can start building the house the 2nd or 3rd week of August. We still might be here into October, though. That’s gonna depend on how long we can hold off the new people coming into this house. He feels we may have a layover in a condo or a townhouse, and you know, I never thought I’d say this, but maybe that won’t be so bad after all. It’ll be just as noisy, if not more, and I certainly won’t get much sleep there, but at least you can pick up a phone and call the manager’s office concerning noise. It doesn’t always work, though. Dealing with a mad butch at the Vista and a herd of 18-year-olds at Crystal Creek taught me that!

I saw a show about vigilantism that I wouldn’t exactly call encouraging, about people just like us who just wanted to mind their own business and live in peace. But somebody wouldn’t let them. In San Diego in 1996, a guy terrorized a neighborhood of people who were said to be upstanding citizens that have never been in trouble till one guy shot the tormentor. For 3 years this guy ran people off the road and all kinds of things, and the police did nothing. So this guy was forced to take matters into his own hands since the cops wouldn’t, and although he didn’t want to, he had to defend himself and his family. The even sicker part of it was his 7-year manslaughter sentence. I hope next door was watching the same show, and I hope it taught them something if they were, cuz I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if somebody somewhere down the road killed these people. I mean, they’re totally, totally asking for it and are risking their lives behaving as they do.

0 notes