#i slept yesterday from 5 am to 1 pm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

olderjodijournals · 4 months ago

Text

Age 33

Friday, January 1, 1999

Starting my writing early this year! Just backed up my stuff and completed my subindex for 1998. Well, the last two months of 1998, anyway.

Tom had to take Mom to the doctor yesterday cuz her feet swelled up. Actually, I think Mary brought her, but he was at the house doing things. She didn’t have to be admitted to the hospital, so that’s good.

I crashed around 3 PM and had Tom get me up at 9:30. That way I could have a half-hour to have coffee and wake up a bit before watching the ball go down in Times Square for the last time. They’re gonna be making a new ball next year. Tom couldn’t get a station covering Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, but MTV was there, so we watched that. It was 10º there!

At 11 PM our time, I went back to bed till 3 AM. I was surprised to have slept past midnight our time since people tend to shoot guns and firecrackers off, but all we heard was a few minutes of Mexican music about a block away just before 10:00.

I don’t understand how after shitting twice yesterday, eating around 1000 calories, not eating for twelve hours, how I could wake up just one pound lighter at 111 pounds, but that’s just my barely moving metabolism for you.

I had massive pre-cramping today and yesterday, but still no spots yet.

I’m now reading On My Honor.

I forgot to mention that Pam’s husband died of a bum liver from alcohol abuse. He asked for it if you ask me.

Andy left a message yesterday and said he was sorry he didn’t acknowledge Ma’s being ill before. That’s nice of him. He also said he was only working at Red Lobster this week. Damn! That’s only a few hours of work! How’s he gonna afford his bills and food, let alone his pot? In Marla’s email to me, she said she was lecturing him about getting a job, rather than staying home and getting wasted. Lecturing him won’t do anyone any good. He doesn’t want to work. He wants to stay home and get stoned.

Marla also sent us a New Year’s greeting card, but I’ll let Tom activate this thing. I don’t want to chance fucking things up.

I typed up a New Year’s card for Tom, as I want to finish off the cards Dureen sent. I even typed up Andy’s birthday card already and typed up about four for Bob.

Here are my predictions for 1999.

We will move this year on approximately June 19th.

The braces will come off this year, both top and bottom (he disagrees with this).

Tom will be at BOA throughout the year.

Tom’s mom will live throughout the year (he disagrees with this).

I don’t see much on doll making, which means it either won’t work out or it’s more towards the year 2000 that it’ll happen. Most likely, it’s still too far away to really see into (he disagrees with this).

Tom may be in a car accident but it could be avoided if he pays attention. If it happens, though, God won’t kill him, thank God! He’ll be OK, save for a few bruises. It’ll be more of an annoyance and a hassle, than anything serious.

I see us having an average two-person income (he disagrees with this).

It will remain just the two of us.

I think we will talk to the doctor who’ll tell me that if I’m fixable, it’ll take major surgery that’ll cost many thousands. Many thousands we don’t really have and that’d stall the move for 2-5 years. So, it won’t be a simple case of hormones or something that I’ll magically outgrow like Tom said. I will refuse any major surgery that may fix me since I do not want a child (he disagrees with this).

The sex will be the usual - on the weekends. We’ll have sex about once a week and he’ll cum 3-4 times this year (he disagrees with this).

I’ll be about 100 pounds on my birthday. I may even reach 100 pounds by this summer (he disagrees with this).

As for my 1998 predictions - I got most of them right, as usual.

I was right when I said he’d still be at BOA, we’d still be here, and his ma would live throughout the year, and I was right about the sex being typical. He came less than I thought he would, though. An all-time low of three squirts for 1998. I sure was wrong about the blacks moving in 1998, but at this point, that’s great. Speaking of them, are they coming back today?

Later...

Tom and I treated ourselves to Jack-n-the-Box. Once again, the hunger was so intense that I just didn’t give a fuck about the weight I’d gain over it. Yeah, I’m pretty watery now too, and am gonna try that chromium picolinate again. It helped curb my hunger before. Now that I have a good diet plan, I’ll see if this will help me stick to it.

New Year’s Day has been a pleasant one, save for a few of society’s desperate using their stereos to cry out their loneliness and ring in the New Year with a little notoriety from the city.

Tom got the rats’ cage up on wheels and man is it tall! It’s just a couple of inches shorter than Tom who’s 5’ 10”. I popped out the shelves, which make up the second, third, and fourth floor, so I could wash them. They were really crapped up with duties and piss! Tom’s gonna put a little Plexiglas around the sides of the shelves and create enough of a base to put sawdust in without them kicking it out. For now, I’ve got them out and they’re all down in the bass on the first floor. It’s plenty big enough even for four rats. I was able to entwine one of the wheels in the side and I stabilized it with bag ties. The bass of the wheel went in between the wires. The other wheel is in the bass along with their burrow and nest, but no one ever really wheels anymore. We’re gonna go out tomorrow to get another water bottle for the top level, and one of those big balls I saw.

I kind of renamed Cutie to Butterscotch with his coloring. He also has one cloudy eye like Piggy did before he died. Is this contagious? Are they all gonna die? God, I hope not! Anyway, Butterscotch doesn’t appear to be in any pain, but we’ll see. Maybe he and the others will be OK.

I asked Tom how he could agree it’ll be just the two of us this year when he’s supposed to believe that what’s wrong with me is minor and that we’ll have a kid. He said because it takes nine months and there are twelve months in a year. Meaning since it’s January, getting fixed and pregnant by March is a wee bit too soon. Well, I hope I’m right about Tom’s subconscious being anti-kid and I hope he’ll always be able to live without one just fine because I absolutely refuse to allow myself to conceive even if God would allow it. I do not want that!

I also don’t want those freeloaders coming back. Not now. It’s too soon. Fortunately, there’s still no sign of them and I hope to hell they come back late on Sunday, but with my luck, they’ll be here prime time tomorrow. Around noon-2:00. If they come back today or tomorrow, though, that would probably mean I’ll have to deal with a three-hour ball game with ten kids participating. I’m gonna have to deal with that shit on MLK Day as it is. I’m sure just about every black ass in the country will make some sort of spectacle of themselves that day. It’s still a miracle that that two-minute ball game those two boys played was all that’s occurred since last - what? April?

Anyway, whenever the hell that bitch does get back, she’ll let me know it. I can only imagine how much door-slamming there’ll be!

Tom’s showing zero desire for sex, but it isn’t the weekend yet.

Saturday, January 2, 1999

Still no freeloaders. Not yet, anyway.

Tom’s working now. You know how they have to work during the daytime on a Saturday at the start of every month, so in he went at 8 AM. He’ll be home around 3:00, then we’re gonna have our cumless weekend screw.

Tom and I were talking earlier about the difference between a resolution, a goal, and a dream. To me, a resolution is something that’s within your control that you hope to change such as quitting smoking, losing weight, or eating better. A goal is something you hope for that’s not unrealistic like hoping to move by June, hoping to get into making/selling dolls. A dream is something you wish for that’s impossible. That’s why they call it a dream when it comes to things like wishing I was tall, and how I used to wish to be a singer and a mom.

My current goal is to be able to have a little more control over my schedule. Maybe not as much control as most have, but still, it’d be nice to be able to keep a schedule most of the time. That way, I’d feel like I had more doors open. I could make plans, for example, to go to Vegas on a particular date that was months away. Now, I can’t do that, cuz I don’t know what the hell my schedule will be months from now. I know, though, that this is just a dream, and I accept it.

Another dream of mine is to be able to sleep with my husband. If he woke me up once or twice a month, that’d be fine, but I wish I could sleep with him most of the time. Again, just a dream, I know it, and I accept it.

My current goals are to move and to get into making/selling dolls.

I don’t really have any resolutions this year. Just to wear my leg weights as often as I can, although I still don’t see how the hell they’re gonna change how my legs look, but I’ll give it six months or so.

I wish I could say that my resolution was to quit eating two bites a day, for the most part, eat normally, and let my middle-aged fat come on, but I’m not ready for that yet. I think forty is a good age to let go and that’s when I probably will. I can’t keep working this hard and dealing with hours and hours of hunger every day for the rest of my life!

Although I’m very watery right now, I ended up waking up at the same thing I woke up at yesterday - 111½. That’s because that hamburger and fries ended up being all I really had. I had some bean soup, a part of a chicken TV dinner, but that was it. I didn’t stuff myself all day.

Later...

I dusted, vacuumed, and changed the mice’s cages. Maybe that’ll help with the tightness I’ve been having. I fucking slaved my ass off, gained weight, and went through hell to quit smoking. Yet half the fucking time, I still feel like I did when I smoked! Thanks, God!

I’m having rotten book luck this time around. Now I’m trying out The Crib and hopefully, it’ll be better.

Will the doctor call me this week? I wonder. And what will happen from here? I know my problem lies within my uterus, I know that guy that did the HSG test played down the severity of my uterus problem, I know I don’t want a kid, I know one’s not meant to be, so am I really that curious to take this any further and see what’ll happen next? Most of me doesn’t think so, but I’m not gonna make any decisions right now.

We were going to go to the store today after he got off work. I need to go to the pet store to get another bottle for the rats and a few other things, but we’re gonna go on Monday instead when it’s less crowded.

Oh, fuck! If there’s anything good about holidays, besides being able to spend more time with Tom, it’s that I get a wonderful break from the fucking non-stop sales calls, but they’re back. Tom said today’s the day they’d start up again, too. Well, he was right. That’s the second call that just came in, so I’m sure there’ll be at least four more.

I ran out of patience with Andy and wrote him a letter expressing my feelings and all that since I’m better with words on paper than I am with words out of my mouth. I know it won’t do me any good. Andy’s a stubborn, selfish person in his own way, who’ll mostly do what he wants to do, but keeping it to myself and holding it in was getting a little tough to do. I basically told him what I’ve said in these journals - that I didn’t think I was making any ridiculous requests or him, nor that many, and how it makes a person think they don’t give a shit when they don’t do what a friend asks of them. Also, I asked these favors from him. I didn’t demand. Once again, if he can’t handle the little things, what about the bigger things? What if we were going away for a week and he was the only one available to feed the animals? Would he really feed them? Or would he just say he would? And of course, I know I can expect him to counter-lecture me and to get all defensive. In the last letter I sent him, he said he was too baked to remember. Why is it that baked or not, I really feel he’ll remember this one since it’ll probably piss him off even if it’s just a little? It’s human nature to remember more of what’s important to us, but I’m starting to wonder if his memory problem is a little more selective than he lets on. He forgets the things he doesn’t care about or care to listen to.

As I told him, though, I wasn’t gonna lecture him in the way that Marla said she did about his staying home and getting baked. If he wants to stay home and get baked, that’s his choice. I’m not gonna tell him how to live his own life. He bitches that he’s such a loser who can’t get ahead in life, yet I never see him really try to move on. Even he admits he doesn’t really try. Therefore, as long as he’s not willing to move on and try his best, he won’t stand a chance of finding a decent job/love and it’ll be his loss. If he does all he can to sober up, get a good job that he keeps, meet better, cleaner people but doesn’t succeed, that’d be different. Then it’d just really not be meant to be for him, but he then would’ve at least tried!

That’s the third sales call. Just three or four more to go!

Sunday, January 3, 1999

Another day off from the sales calls, then I’ll have six days of them calling constantly.

I went to bed at around 6:00 last night and from what Tom’s said, who stood up a little later, the freeloaders still aren’t back yet. They’ll be back today then. Thank God they waited till Sunday. I was hoping they’d come back today and not yesterday or the day before. So, lots of door-slamming today! Not only are they gonna slam doors as they usually do, but they’re gonna slam them a little harder than normal, so they can really let me know they’re back.

I was really watery yesterday and took a water pill. I woke up at 108 pounds.

Later...

Today we put the 2” high strips of Plexiglas around the base of each floor in the rat’s cage. This should help keep sawdust in better than it would’ve otherwise. It was really gross how they’d piss on the bare floors before. They need something to absorb their piss.

Tom said Evie lost a lot of weight. That’s not what she told me when we last talked, but good for her.

Yesterday, there were some weekend bangers, but nothing too bad. I saw the little girl in the rental, along with some teenage girl, roller-skating down the street and in their driveway. Tom said he saw many people out and about yesterday as he was coming home. It was a beautiful day. A beautiful and polluted day.

I still can’t believe that any kids at the rental haven’t waltzed on over to play ball at the freeloader’s. It’s obvious they aren’t home, but kids don’t need someone to not be home in order to just go play on their property. Even more so, I can’t believe the collie kids haven’t played in months. Where are they, anyway? Those kids are wild. I usually hear them out front or out back, but not lately.

We had sex earlier. It was predictable and typical. Of course, it didn’t help that he’s got another one of his fucking colds. I’m sorry he doesn’t feel well, but God, I’m so fucking sick of these colds of his! Every 3-4 fucking months! He said it’s because he works with people who go to work sick, which people don’t normally do. Yeah, leave it to me to have my husband working with a bunch of freaks. Well, can’t someone talk to these people? They should make it a general rule that if you’re sick, you should stay home. You’re not only risking making the people you work with sick, but you’re risking making their families sick too, but that’s our selfish society for you. So now I have to deal with his cold too, and have our lives put on hold for the millionth time. Either someone needs something, something needs fixing, or he’s sick. God, it gets old! I haven’t had a cold since last January, so I’m hoping that I get as lucky as I was with his last few colds and don’t get this one. I’m not the one here, though, with an immune system as weak as a child’s or an old person's. I used to be that way, but what is this? Now that I get over my catching one cold after another, I have to live with someone who does just that?

I prayed to God twice to help take away this constant anger I have almost every day. I could be doing whatever, then suddenly, I want to kill Larry or Bill or someone. The last thing I want is to be angry at these subhuman losers for the rest of my life. They’re in my past now, and I want the anger to be a part of the past, too. God, life isn’t fair! I mean, I know these people aren’t going through this. They don’t have me suddenly pop in their heads and get so angry that it eats at them. Why me? Why is it always me? If it isn’t, I sure feel like it is. Since I have to give in order to get, I tried bargaining with God and agreed to accept the fact that these people invade my dreams constantly, if he’d just curb my constant anger.

Two nights ago I prayed to God to show me in my dreams a sign as to whether or not Measles was alive, and if there’s any way possible, that I don’t see or sense, that I could be wrong about being destined to remain childless, like it or not. This stemmed from my asking for his guidance once again, as far as the sterility issue is concerned. I told him that I still don’t want a child, accept his decision to keep me childless, and will do the right thing and not fight him should I ever find myself wanting a child again someday. However, is there a chance I could be wrong about God’s intentions? I don’t see how I could be wrong any more than I see Tom killing 20 people, but I asked for a baby-related dream if I were wrong. I also asked for a dream with Measles in it if she were still alive.

That night I had no dreams pertaining to these things. The next night, last night, I did. I did not dream of Measles, but I did have a baby-related dream. It was weird, though. It wasn’t about me or someone else getting pregnant or having a child. It was about me thinking about how I could never handle childbirth. On top of it all, the dream took place in the second house we had in Longmeadow, and guess who was downstairs while I was upstairs in the dream? You got it. Good old Dureen and Arthur.

Upon waking up, I realized that if God was showing me anything at all, he wasn’t showing me a kid is meant to be. He was reminding me of one of the reasons it’s not meant to be. Makes perfect sense to me.

Tom was telling me earlier, after I asked him what he thought, if he thought my trying to be a singer, if I still wanted that, would interfere with our marriage. He agreed it would probably interfere with our married life since I’d still have to perform in a band somewhat full-time. Not that I could get into a band, though! I’m sure if I did, they’d make some excuse later on as to why they had to disband the band. What happened back east - that was certainly God’s way of saying it definitely wasn’t meant to be! The signs were that obvious.

Anyway, if he can agree that my trying to be a singer would get in the way of our relationship, how can he feel that a child wouldn’t? It’d interfere a million times more.

What I wonder is this - God wouldn’t let me be a singer, God wouldn’t let me be a mother, so will he let me be a doll maker? I hope so, although this one’s quite material in nature, and I don’t feel the need/desire to do it as bad as I once did with the other things.

The Crib didn’t go over very well with me, so now I’m trying Life Penalty.

There goes some desperate soul with its bass pounding away.

Monday, January 4, 1999

Destiny has arrived. Yup, still as sterile as a doorknob and still as psychic as can be in that department. Thank fucking God! Of course, I can’t just get my period normally. I have to spot 3-4 days before getting a half-assed flow.

Tom got in about an hour ago and he just went to bed. I’m gonna get him up at 10:30, then we’re gonna go to Walgreens, Petco, and the bookstore.

Later...

I was just checking out my teeth in the mirror and could see what I felt last night. When the teeth move, you suddenly notice it. You’ll feel them with your tongue day after day, and then just suddenly, you’ll notice a difference. Well, last night I noticed another area in the bottom teeth that’s shifted. Of all the bottom teeth that are crooked, there are only five. Three of these five teeth are close to where they’re supposed to be and at this rate, it’s hard to believe it’ll take a whole year, now ten more months, to straighten these teeth. Maybe the next time I see Melanie on February 1st, she can give me more of an accurate time frame as to when the top braces will come off.

Tom says there are sick people where he works, but just like with his last cold, I’m wondering about Shiny. He sneezed a couple of times a few days ago and I promised to kick him right out of the house if he sneezed again, but he didn’t. Could he be giving Tom colds? I don’t know. It seems inevitable that Tom gets so many colds regardless of whether we have a cat or not. He sneezed again today, but only once.

Where are these freeloaders? I cannot believe this bitch isn’t back yet! If she’s back, she came in after I went to bed. Well, we’ll see if Bill shows up, but I have an empty feeling coming from over there. It’s been great not having to listen to the door slamming that goes on over there every day, but shouldn’t this bitch be back by now? I never thought I’d be getting antsy for this bitch to return! We need to be the ones to move first and I need to make her a certain delivery!

Anyway, I’d say that bitch definitely went with its cock to its cock’s parents’ house. It’s obvious that the bitch’s mother is dead, and that the cock’s parents are out of state. Bill’s the only parent figure I see visiting. If the bitch’s mom existed, even if it existed out of state, wouldn’t we see it come to visit from time to time? The cock’s parents probably couldn’t afford to come visit when it lived here, so that’s why he and its bitch went to them. I don’t know if the cock’s parents are really old, married, or what, but they’re in someplace like L.A. or Chicago. Another way I can tell she’s with the cock, is because if she had taken off herself, the cock would be coming over here daily to check on the house, do its laundry, etc.

Today’s the day we find out what our stock options are. Tom says it won’t be till the middle of the month before he’ll be more sure about us moving in June, or unsure. I don’t have a good vibe about this, nor do I have a bad one. I still think we’ll move in June. Definitely between June and August. I just hope those freeloaders are here to see us do it!

We found the reason why Shiny’s been limping. We thought it was some sort of arthritis at first, but it appears his claws are fucked up. One of his back paws has claws overlapping.

I threw the old foam mattress out back and rolled it up making a sort of a muff. He really likes to nestle in it during those cold nights and early mornings.

Later...

Andy left a message saying he got my “nasty” letter, which was well written, and he wasn’t mad over it. He selfishly admits, though, that that’s great that he can eat on the phone with me and that I accept him as he is because as I myself said, he’s gonna do the opposite of what people ask of him, anyway.

So in other words, what he’s saying is - don’t ask me A cuz I’ll just do B. That’s how he’s always been! I do accept him as he is and I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to control or change him, but I still think that people should comply with the wishes of their loved ones as long as they’re not too much or unrealistic. If they’re simple little requests that were asked of them and not demanded of them, what’s wrong with compromising? Andy can’t even do that, but we all have our selfish points. Still, if he wants a successful relationship, he’s gonna have to learn to compromise.

Anyway, he says he wasn’t even eating when he left that last message to me. He was chewing on his nails. Whatever. He also says that eating on the phone is a regular habit of his. Well, to each their own, but how does he enjoy his food that way, and how does he not choke? Also, if he’s so hung up on youth and thinness, especially thinness, why does he eat like a pig?

I sent him another letter as a little compensation for the last one. This one’s more of our old kind of letters without the lectures. I enclosed a few notes too, from the bunch I made up for him for whenever the fuck I see him, and put some pictures on the back of the envelope, but he’s too stoned to really want to do much of anything, although he did say something about helping out his friend Donna at a company she works at. Something about making appointments. I’ll have to ask him more about it. He didn’t really get into it.

Tuesday, January 5, 1999

Still no jury dismissal notice. I hope they know I’m not going. I don’t do courts. Period. And if I ever do step foot into a courthouse again, it’s gonna be to sue someone for a rather large sum of money. Of course, I hope to hell neither of us is ever fucked over that bad that we’d need to sue like that, cuz usually, that’s why you sue for a large amount of money.

I added more icons to my desktop. For quite a while, I had just one vertical row of icons, but now I have two and a half. I put more things on there that I frequently use.

I woke up two days ago at 108 pounds, yesterday at 109 pounds, and today at 110 pounds. Gotta watch it, I guess.

All I had so far was that little spot yesterday. Am I gonna be a few days late or a week late? So far, I’ve never been more than a week late, except for that time in ‘96 when I spotted for two weeks before getting my period two weeks late. You never know with my screwy periods. I could end up skipping regularly! That’d be nice. Still, maybe my hormones are a little screwy and maybe I am going to have early menopause. I haven’t had as many pre-cramps today, but I sure did yesterday! I could swear my period was starting at times.

As I knew it would, my last vibrator broke. Why are these things so undependable? I don’t think that’s really the case, though. I think I’m just as hexed with these things as I am with other things. When it comes to sexual-related stuff, I’m always hexed. This is the third vibrator that didn’t last very long, but hey, nothing good sexually ever lasts for long when it comes to me if it even comes to me in the first place. I doubt I’ll ever get vibrators again, but if I do, I’m gonna get about four at once and not two since they’re just gonna break on me so soon. Everything breaks on me sooner than it should!

The CD club that Tom and I have used several different times over the years now claims you don’t have to send in monthly selection cards anymore, which was a hassle. You now only send in forms when you want something. I’m sure there’s a catch and I’m sure they’re gonna get pushy and send CDs we didn’t even order to try to push more sales, but we’re gonna go for it anyway. You get to start off with 15 free CDs! You only pay shipping and handling and 40% of the cost of one CD.

Linda has a new album out and I didn’t even know it. Andy didn’t tell me either, so I guess both of us aren’t keeping up with these things as much these days. It’s called We Ran. I hope it’s not as bad as her last English album which had all shitty songs on it. Her second to last Spanish one sucked too, that I didn’t even get her last Spanish one.

Linda’s smartening up as far as her weight goes. Since she’s too fat to really look good on an album cover, she just shows her eyes on this one. So does Gloria on her last one. Gloria still looks much better than Linda. Gloria’s about 120-135 pounds and she’s about 40 years old. Linda’s 50 years old and weighs around 180 pounds.

Tom and I did some errands yesterday. We went to Petco and got green sawdust for the mice (I use white for the rats and pig), alfalfa, food, nibble sticks, another bottle and holder (although it turns out I didn’t need the fucking holder!) and that’s it, cuz they didn’t have the bigger balls. We’ll get one some other time.

Then we went to the bookstore where I got eleven books for $14. I looked more in the movie section, but they were just too predictable. I did get The Guardian, though. The one Norah was in and that I think she looked the best in. Also, one of them is a good book, but it turns out that I already read it.

Lastly, we went to Walgreens where we got a variety of stuff. He got some junk food and some orange juice for his cold. He says it helps him to feel better if he drinks juice. He got some cold stuff, too. We got me that chromium picolinate, which Tom says he read that anyone with diabetes in their family should take. Yeah, leave it to Dureen to still affect me from across the country! He read that they’re still not sure whether or not it controls appetites and causes weight loss. I think it helps with hunger, but it doesn’t help with losing weight.

Got a couple more nail kits. The same design as before - red with black, white-tipped swirls.

Got a steamer too, and it helped to get Patrice’s wrinkles out better than I thought it would. It’s a good thing to have. Especially if you’re a doll collector.

Got some pistachio nuts that I shared with the animals, some filters for the water filter, and other odds and ends.

Later...

I saw the white car with the rack on its trunk next door yesterday at 5:30. However, once again, it’s a ghost town over there. Bill isn’t there, and I haven’t heard any car doors. She could be still in the house since it’s still only just after 10:00, but I get an empty feeling from over there. Well, we’ll see what happens, but I don’t sense she’s moving, and there’s no blasting music coming from over there which would be a moving sign. Unless they were to remain dependent on the city and move from one subsidized house to another, which I can’t see happening, she’s not gonna obey the city’s shut-up commands if she were suddenly detached from them.

The collies have been quieter since the freeloaders have split.

Later...

It looks like one of my guesses about the bitch may be right. I felt she either went to L.A. or Chicago. Well, I think she did go somewhere in the Midwest. And if she did, that’d explain why she’s not back yet. She can’t get back with all the ice storms they’ve been having. The white car only came to check on the house. No wonder there wasn’t a ton of door slamming and no wonder the car wasn’t here long.

Someone with the last name M had to have had this number at one point. You know how we used to get a lot of calls for a Carol M? Well, one just came in looking for a Michelle Marie M in regard to her high school reunion.

Later...

I just talked to Andy and Donna about a potential job for me that’s at home and that’s under the table. Well, supposedly all I have to do is call businesses and try to set up appointments for her to meet with them to sell them legal services and I’d get $10 an appointment. It sounds too easy, though. There’s got to be a catch. I mean, wouldn’t most of these businesses say they weren’t interested, or that they already had services? Anyway, Donna gave me her number and I’ll call her tomorrow either way. I won’t leave her hanging. I’ll give her a yes or a no. If I give her a yes, and I very well might, she’ll be coming over here to give me the list of businesses to call since she has a car, and since Tom will be gone when I get up. She’s gonna have her 2½-year-old with her and that thing’s not coming into this non-baby-proof house to break my dolls and more. They are way too destructive at that age, so she agreed to meet outside the house with me. Anyway, I won’t write anymore about it till I find out more.

Later...

The same white car just pulled in and left shortly after. The sun’s setting now, and once it gets dark I’ll be able to tell if the bitch is over there by if there are lights on, but I doubt it. These trips with the white car have just been way too quiet. Whenever the bitch gets picked up or dropped off, there’s a whole slew of door-slamming, but not this time. No unpacking sounds. I haven’t seen anyone or heard any voices, and that bitch has a loudmouth. This car is quietly coming and going with just one door slam. Guess it’s just one person. There’s been no music, so she’s not moving. Thank God. I never thought I’d want her to stick around this bad!

Wednesday, January 6, 1999

At 10:00 I’m gonna call Donna. I called Tom at work and asked him if he wanted me to have Donna come over when he’s home so he can be there too to hear what she has to say, but he said no. He trusts my judgment. Just be careful of what I get into. Of course.

Although I only had a little spot on the 4th, and one on the 5th, and today, I think my period’s getting ready to start. It may be a half-assed one, but I think that by tomorrow I’ll have enough of a period to drain the soreness from my chest. Thank God!

I’m pretty bloated right now and I guess you could say I’m watery too. I didn’t go over 1000 calories yesterday, yet today I’m up to 111 pounds.

I don’t know how long I’ll give the doctor to contact me before I contact her, but we’ll see. I don’t know why I even bother. I know what I want. I know what’s meant to be, so why put myself through more hell? I got my questions answered, as far as I’m concerned. I have a bum uterus. Time to move on. Time to follow God’s plans for me. Just like I have all along, and just like everyone else in this world does.

If there was just one more thing, I’d change about this new rat cage, I’d take out those solid plastic floors and put wire floors in. That way the duties would fall to the bottom, and I wouldn’t have to worry about sawdust. We may as well take these Plexiglas strips out Tom wasted his time and money putting in, cuz they’re still making a mess, kicking sawdust out all over the place. I think an all-wire cage would look better, too.

It fucking figures that my shows didn’t get taped last night. That’s another common VCR problem I’ve had - it doesn’t record anything. Why do electronic things only work half of the time for me? Anyway, I’m not gonna play VCR hit or miss. If I’m up on Tuesdays between 7:00-9:00 PM I’ll watch the shows live if they’re on.

Later...

Tom was right, and so were my vibes. It’s not that this thing of Donna’s is illegal or anything complicated. It’s that it doesn’t get me anywhere. As Tom and I figured, I can’t get appointments set up cuz either the person who handles that is out, or they’re just not interested. The work is also pretty boring. I rather make dolls, even if it’s not good money! But I said I’d try it out and I did. It would’ve been an OK job to do if it could be done, though, and Donna would’ve been a nice person to do business with, but oh well. You can’t make something work that’s not meant to be. I hope Andy won’t let this influence his decision to ever make appointments for her, cuz what may not work out for one person, may work out for another.

Tom got our new digital camera! He says it’s not gonna be a complicated deal to use and that it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. All I want to do is take pictures, put them on the computer where I want them, and that’s basically it.

Later...

The white car just pulled out from next door. I never even heard it pull in in the first place. Guess the bitch will be back anytime now. Tom says the storms have let up.

Fucking cat. He’s so fucking weird! He won’t come in and eat unless someone’s in here with him, and you practically have to invite him over to his bowl. If you just open the door and walk away, he sometimes just sits there and whines, rather than eats. If you let him in, then go right outside yourself, he’ll just stay at the door whining. He can’t even walk by himself to his fucking bowl and eat! Why do I always attract such weird cases? At least he’s not into things and being all destructive like Shadow was.

Now here’s something totally shocking, that I didn’t sense, and that’s absolutely wonderful. I haven’t heard the collies. I noticed how quiet they were yesterday. So yesterday and today I haven’t heard them. Are they there? Are they just being unusually quiet? Or did someone finally get fed up and kill them? If someone killed them, they’d be over here blaming me, so I doubt that. Maybe someone took legal action against all the barking, though, but I don’t know. It’s been great. I love being able to go out back and not have to listen to their deafening barking bounce off of those block walls. The dogs would sound like they were just over the wall in the freeloader’s yard when they’d go off, and any dog barking in the freeloader’s yard is like, oh my fucking God! It’s like it’s right in front of your face. It’s too soon to say for sure what the scoop is, but if they’re gone, I hope it’s at least till we’re out of here! I hope they don’t come back. Or two new dogs to replace them.

I wish to hell I wouldn’t have to have such long drawn-out PMS like this! Why do I have to spot for a handful of days first? Can’t I just get my period normally and be done with it? This is two extra days of the backaches, the water, the bloating, and the pre-cramps.

Initially, I was gonna wait till February to call the doctor if I hadn’t heard from her, and I asked Tom if he thought that’d be too long. He said he felt it’d be too long and suggested the end of January. Maybe I’ll shoot for Lisa’s birthday, which is the 20th. Although, what can she tell me? She can only tell me what I already know. Even if they could fix me, and even if I were willing to pay the price to be fixed, and even if I could handle the fixing, went back to wanting a kid, and was made so I could conceive, then did conceive, God would only make me miscarry that child, so what’s the point? He’s not gonna allow me to get into anything I can’t handle or that isn’t a part of his plan for me.

Later...

They’re there. Yeah, I knew the absence of the collies was too good to be true. They were just having a quiet spell. As soon as I heard the school bus, I ran out back knowing that the kids usually set the dogs off when they go down the back alley. Sure enough, they went off.

I didn’t sense the dogs leaving like I would normally sense something like that. If there had been any money to make with this appointment-making thing, I’d have sensed that too. I do sense I’ll have my period by tomorrow. Thank God!

Tom also got me a faster modem, which God knows I could use.

Later...

Now that was weird. I happened to have stepped up to the window in time to see the white car come in. Not the typical white car, but one with blond hair in it. I knew it was the lady from the red pickup right away. Whoever the driver was stayed in the car the whole time cuz I’d hear her talk to the driver as she passed by him. She got out of the car, walked through the carport to the back gate, then apparently had trouble opening it. She walked up the carport, said something to the driver I couldn’t hear, then went and got a chair off the front porch and brought it back to the back gate. She stood up on that to open it and was in the back for about two minutes. She came back out and brought the chair back to the front, said something inaudible as she passed the driver, and got in the car and left. Why would this bitch need two people checking the house? She must be really fucking paranoid!

Later...

Tom just got up with a duty belly and told me his opinion on the freeloaders. He thinks that due to her and her cock being stranded, the white car’s probably showing up daily just to see if she’s back yet, and the blond lady’s probably from the church and came to pull her mail in so it wouldn’t jam up in the slot. Tom said it’s not uncommon to have different locks for your front and back doors, so she probably only has a key to the back door. He said the two minutes fit. That’s about how long it’d take to open the back sliding door and put the mail on a counter or something like that.

Thursday, January 7, 1999

Right again, as usual. I did get my full flow today. However, it’s so wimpy! Nothing hits the pad. It’s just what I wipe off. On the bright side, what I wiped off was too much to be pregnant with, but I’m really wondering more and more about a hormone imbalance or early menopause. So I left a message with the doctor about this. I was told she’d call me at the end of the day. Fine. Maybe she can tell me about the tests I took while we’re at it.

Once again, I am totally, totally sterile! No fertile woman should’ve gotten her period when I did if she had sex just two days prior to being mid-cycle, but you know me. Nowadays I see it as a gift. Not a curse. I just wish God would’ve left the choice to me! Yeah, but while that’s easy to say, we know damn well I’d have made the wrong choice in the past had it been mine to make, and today I’d be lifelessly sitting around regretting it. I just wish the doctor would call and tell me there were no choices to be made, cuz my uterus is that fucked up, cuz that’d just make this whole thing so much easier. Just tell me what I know isn’t meant to be so I can move on in life! No more excruciating tests for nothing! I’m not meant to have any say in this matter, and my days of struggling for what’s not meant to be are over. I’m going with the flow of God’s plan for me, like it or not, and that’s that.

Later...

Tom installed a new modem on my computer that’s faster for when I’m on AOL or the web or something like that. It’s not lightning fast, since phone wires can only transmit information through them so fast, but it is faster than what I had before.

It’s also supposed to have caller ID and when someone calls, the number’s supposed to show up on the monitor, but I haven’t gotten any calls in which to test it out yet. Of all these fucking sales calls we get, none has called yet since I’ve been awake and functional.

Tom’s taking his mom to an appointment today.

Tom doesn’t think Mom will make it throughout the year. Well, I hope he’s right and I’m wrong, cuz regardless of how nice she is compared to most people, she needs to go. She’s done her time here on this earth, there’s nothing more she can do or live for except to burden others, so she needs to pass on and we need to move on. I know God’s gonna really get me for this by making sure no one’s around to take care of me and help me out when I get old, but I already knew he’d do this to me no matter what I felt about his mother. I’m just sick of her and her needs. They may have lessened greatly since she sold that fucking house, but still, she needs to go, and God help Mary and Dave or someone else if they think Tom will then wait on them left and right after she’s gone.

Andy, for whatever reason, isn’t able to come over anytime in the near future to get that extra comforter I have for him, his notes, and to see the place. He’s gonna be busy doing temp work for the next two weeks, so maybe he’ll come over then. Or maybe he just doesn’t feel like it or trust his junky car. He did mention only driving when necessary. So, I’m gonna mail him the notes.

He left a message yesterday saying he was sorry the phone appointments didn’t work out. Donna was bummed too. I knew it was too good to be true; simply making appointments all day and getting $10 a pop, but that’s OK, cuz as I told Andy and Donna, the work was dull and I’d rather make dolls and do something more uppity, even if it’s for shit money. Although, if it had worked out, I’d have done it for a while anyway. Meanwhile, Donna’s gonna pick up the papers she gave me some time over the next few days.

Andy says his friend Juliet’s coming in from California. The one I met back east a couple of times. We all went to the beach together once, and she was with us at one of the bars. Anyway, he mentioned coming over for a visit with her this weekend. He just doesn’t listen or get it when I tell him I’m tied up on weekends! So, I simply told him I’d be busy, which is true, and that she’s his friend. I still don’t want to get into buddy sharing with him, although Donna’s an easygoing enough person to have done business with.

He says he does not want to give up Phoenix but he has to cuz he wants love. Andy, you are not gonna give up Phoenix for nothing and nobody! You know it. I know it. So end it. You’re not destined for a relationship, and if you were, you still couldn’t have one cuz you’re too damn selfish to have a successful one.

Today, the collies are doing a fine job of making up for lost barking time.

Later...

Wow. If you ask me, these teeth are moving really fast. They’re not overlapping anymore, on the bottom, and there are only three teeth that are out of place.

I hope Tom gets home soon. He needs to work tonight, so he can’t be out catering to Marjorie all day. Maybe he’ll give her the last remaining bits of his cold and she’ll die now.

Later...

Oh, how I hate that woman!!! I’m soooooo fucking pissed off right now, I can barely type! Marjorie, drop dead you fucking asshole! Drop dead! I need my husband right now. I’m depressed and I really need to talk to him now, but no! He has to be catering to you. Well, who’s fucking husband is he, Marge? Gee, I thought he was my husband! God, I hate you, you fucking burden! I’m sick of you interfering with this relationship. I’m sick of you taking my husband’s time when I need him. I’m sick of you causing him to lose sleep, to lose more of his valuable time, his life, and I’m sick of you!! God, why won’t you kill this woman, NOW!!! I could scream, I’m so fucking furious and fed up with this user!

That depression’s really turning into anger and frustration pretty fast, that’s for damn sure. Still, I need my husband. I need to talk to him and vent these emotions. It won’t change a damn thing, but it helps perk me up. It’s like an alcoholic who drinks when she’s upset. It doesn’t fix her problem, and maybe nothing can, but it helps to temporarily make her feel better so she can cope and get through the tough times.

I don’t know why I’m so depressed today. I haven’t been this depressed in a long time. It feels just like old times, and this is scary. Is this gonna be a rare thing? Or am I gonna go back to being depressed over being controlled by God on a regular basis? I thought having periods was supposed to take away depression. Anyway, no, I don’t want a kid, but I still feel depressed, confused, angry, frustrated, and cursed at the way God’s dictated my life for me in so many more ways than is the norm. I don’t have a full bag of rights as a woman, I never will, and that still pisses me off and saddens me, whether I want a kid or not. How can God do this to a woman, and why me? What did I do that was so horrible that I deserve this? Why? Why?! Why me? He gave this body to me, so why can’t I use it the way I want to? He gave this life to me, so why can’t I do what I want with it? Well, the truth is my body and life don’t fully belong to me and they never will, so when the fuck am I gonna just get over it and on with my life? I mean, I did such a good job of it last year. I came to accept myself as I am and I was content to live life as I am, half-woman and all. I came to see how wonderful things would be without a child. I still see how wonderful they’ll be, but when am I gonna get over not having a say in the matter and get over the depression and the feeling like God’s picking on me?

Saturday, January 9, 1999

Got quite a bit of updating to do. For starters, the freeloaders have been doing exactly what I knew they’d do, but at least we haven’t had setbacks with the music. Or with the bass, I should say.

The bitch got back at 6 PM on the 7th, which turned out to be a miserable day for me, but I’ll get into that later. Anyway, it looks like Bill went with the cock and bitch to the Midwest. I assume Bill went too, cuz I never saw him checking on the house while the bitch was gone, and what’s the bitch doing - leaving her father alone every Christmas? Somehow, I don’t think so. I think the three of them went to the airport in the cock’s car. When they returned, I think the cock dropped Bill off, then its bitch. There wasn’t much in the way of door-slamming that night, and the cock didn’t stay long. After a long flight, I’m sure the cock was sick of its bitch and of its mistake, and just wanted to get the hell home. I saw the cock pull a large duffel bag from the trunk, and that’s about it. Just a few door slams. The cock wasn’t even here for an hour.

Meanwhile, the bitch has been making up for lost time as far as company and door slamming goes and has begun the payback for the roofing noise. I knew she would. Like I said, I know these freeloaders. I can anticipate just about their every move.

The bitch didn’t work yesterday, but it went out with Bill at 2:00. Probably to do some grocery shopping. At 4:00, the cock was in and out, and at 5:00 Bill brought the bitch back. At 6:15, part of the payback began. For about five minutes, I heard really loud voices. Yeah, the bitch had to make a big fucking production out of the light blue car’s picking her up. All I could make out, though, was “I’ll get you something at Wal-Mart.” Anyway, I heard about two kids and two adults. There were at least ten door slams. If these people were normal in any sense of the word, her ride would pull up and maybe honk if she weren’t looking for her ride or standing out front, then there’d be just two door slams. One for her and one for her mistake, and that’s it, but no. She’s gotta make a big show of it in regard to me.

I could’ve sworn I heard two door slams when the cock came and went while she was out on Friday with Bill, and I think I know who that other dude is that he sometimes comes over with. I think it’s that teenage boy I spoke to when I’d had my fill with the dog sitting outside my bedroom barking. I think that her lease allows that house only to her and her kid and that both he and this kid got kicked out. I think the kid moved in with the cock. Well, where is its mother? In jail? Too doped up to give a shit? Or was she killed by an enemy or fellow gang member?

Anyway, the way I know the bitch went out last night when that car came in at 6:15, is cuz there were no lights on inside the house. She had to have gotten back after I crashed, though.

The biggest thing I figured the bitch would sic on me for the roofing noise would be ball games. More so than voices and door slamming. She’d really love to sic the bass on me, but she can’t, cuz she knows she’ll get evicted if she does. Well, I was right about the ball games. I just knew there would be ball games this weekend, next weekend at the latest, but it didn’t go on for hours and hours like I thought it would.

Today, the light blue car came and went and came again a few minutes later. Then a black boy in a dark green sports shirt about 12 years of age came out to play ball, but only for a few minutes. The fan in the bedroom and the air cleaner in the living room, do a great job at drowning this out, so since we haven’t got much time left here (I hope) I don’t give a fuck if they play ball every day from here on out. I’ve got fans and I’ve got cordless headphones for music and even for the TV if I just had to watch something while they were out balling around. And I’ll bet you anything that that bitch coaxed him into playing, too.

So then after a few minutes of him slam-dunking, out comes two black ladies putting shit in the trunk. I saw a bright blue stroller, and what looked like party bags being put in the trunk. The back seat looked like it was loaded with 2-4 kids. I couldn’t tell for sure who the hell these girls were. One had braids and that might’ve been the bitch. After all, she needed a change of style and had had her old style for way too long. The other had nice hair for being black. They usually have lamb’s wool for hair. It was loose, kind of one length, and about an inch or two below the shoulders. She wore a dull-colored outfit, though. A long-sleeved olive blouse, and was it dull orange/yellow pants? Or jeans? Someone had jeans on. Anyway, they were both around the same height and weight and I think it was the bitch and its sister.

So, they take off and it’s about noon. At 5:30, just as the sun was setting, it was back. And so was the dark green sports shirt and its basketball. It played for about 20 minutes, then bye-bye went the car and the dark green sports shirt and its basketball. Some would say I should’ve sabotaged the damn hoop while they were gone, but it wouldn’t have done me any good. If a giant hole opened up in the ground and swallowed that thing right up, they’d just replace it. And if not, they’d just dribble the ball in the driveway to get at me.

The night is young. It’s only 7:00. Got more company to go for that bitch. I just checked and although it’s not as bright as usual, there is a light on over there, so I think the bitch is home and that any more company will go inside the house to see her there. And I’d think it’s too dark to be playing any more ball today.

I’m sure tomorrow will be a repeat of today. Cars in and out, door slams on and off, and 2-3 spurts of ball playing. God help them if they ever even think of returning to basing me out!

I have much more to write about, but I’ve got a little cold that I came down with on the 7th, thanks to Tom and his constant colds, so I’ll do it later. This has been an easy cold, though. I’m not nearly as bad off as I got last year when I had a cold.

Sunday, January 10, 1999

I just called Paula who says she’s gonna call me back. She left a message earlier wanting to know if I could find a number for some guy in Texas. This time, instead of saying no, I’ll tell her I found a match and give her a bogus number. I know it’s dishonest, but the ditz won’t know the difference. It seems she only calls when she wants me to look for someone on the Internet. If it was as easy as snapping my fingers and having Paula here for a little visit, I would do it in a heartbeat. But if I were to never hear from her again, I can’t say I’d miss her. She’s just there at this point in my life. Just someone who exists that I know. I’ve known her since I was about 19.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a shitload of updating to do, and in the midst of taking breaks to sing, read, and watch some movies, I’m gonna get started. Let me back up and try to go in order of events.

The 7th, as I said before, was a nightmare. It was totally, totally miserable and just like old times. I felt like it was somewhere between 1994-1997 all over again. I just cried and cried and was so pissed off at God for taking away my right to choose what to do with my life/body. I was both sad and angry.

As my anger mounted and peaked, I decided that saying “You can’t fight God and win” would no longer cut it for me. I was gonna take back my rights as a woman, fight back, and beat God for sure. I was gonna get fixed, become all woman no matter how excruciating, and make that mistake that should’ve been mine to make a few years ago. And I was gonna soak up every miserable moment of that mistake, too.

The next day, and since then, I was back to my old self, thank fucking God! I know I can’t fight God and win and change fate. Also, I do not want a child. I want to live. I want to be free. I just hope to hell that the 7th was a rare setback and that it’ll mostly, if not completely, remain a thing of the past. There’s nothing like being as angry and as depressed as I was, feeling cheated, feeling controlled, and cursed by this non-empathetic, controlling God! Never do I want to experience that hopeless despair again!

Tom was very supportive, reminding me that it’s OK to feel as I did. He heard a report on TV about how fertility clinics should really keep in mind that women are angry. They’re angry if they can’t conceive, they’re angry if they do conceive and have to go through all that shit just to do it when no woman should have to in the first place. No one should have to work for or pay for getting pregnant. People should have the right to do what they want with their own lives and with their own bodies. Period.

Anyway, I’ll never have a child, I know that, I’m OK with that as I have been for about a year now, but I still do intend to call this doctor’s office Monday and give them a piece of my mind. Tom says it’s like this everywhere nowadays where it’s a battle just to get a doctor to call you back. Do I think it’s a sign anyway? Yeah, I’m sure it is, but still, I called Thursday and I should’ve been called back by now. Tom says there’s a chance she may not have worked on Friday, but nonetheless, I’m gonna make it clear in my message that when I leave a message, I want to be called back. Also, I want to know what the test results were (in her words) and find out what the next step is if there is a next step. This isn’t over till I say it is!

I’ve got to take charge of my own life and of my own body. If I don’t, God will just keep taking and taking and controlling and controlling. I’m not gonna be God’s little victim. His character that he uses in a script that he wrote out. Fuck that shit! He gave me this life and this body and now it’s mine! All mine.

Tom put in Plexiglas strips around the sides of the floors in the rat’s cage, but plenty of sawdust still seeped out and made quite a mess. So, I took the floors out and was gonna have him make wire floors so that their shit would fall down through to the bass, which is like a huge litter box, but then I got an even better idea which I set about doing. I love it and so do the rats. Tom thinks it’s cool, too. Instead of having the shelves make complete floors for them to piss and shit all over if they’re bare, knock sawdust out if I put any in, and be hard for me to clean, either way, I put shelves in, but not from one wall to another making a floor. I made steps instead, and this way, the shelves are easier to pop out and clean. This is so much better! They make much less of a mess, it’s easier to clean, and that’s less sawdust I have to deal with and vacuum up.

This cold, which is practically all gone now, turned out to be the easiest cold I ever had. I had a sugar craving just like Tom did with his and ate like a pig for two days. I had two candy bars and lots of little donuts. Can’t believe I’m not over 111 pounds.

We got our digital camera a few days ago and it’s great! I love it! It’s easy to use, too. Tom showed me how to shoot pictures, then transfer them to the computer and into the folder I want them in. I took some doll pictures, and sometime soon I’ll take some animal pictures and some of us. That way Tammy and the girls can see the weight I’ve lost and how long my hair is!

Tom and I laughed together over my idea for the freeloaders. I thought I’d shoot some pictures of their house, then superimpose a mouse or something to make it look like they have a giant rat on their roof and a giant mouse on their porch. Something like that. I tried to shoot pictures through the blinds today of the bitch and her sister, but all I got were the blinds since it focuses on what’s closest. Still, a picture of one of them ought to really creep them out! I’ll have to learn to manually focus it. A shot of Bill’s car and the house would be lovely for them to have, too.

I guess tomorrow it’s back to the usual weekday routine for the freeloaders. Today, the cock came in at around 2:00 to watch a football game. I heard two door slams while I was in the bathroom. One for the teenage boy? Anyway, it was here till 5:00. While the cock was here, the sister in the white car was out front fighting with the bitch. At least it looked like the bitch was arguing with her and mad about someone. She was born mad, I swear! They were standing by the car, which was parked on the street since the cock had the driveway. Part of it, anyway. The sister was holding a baby and then I saw the bitch’s mistake and some other kid about that same size. They’re so fucking weird, cuz at one point, the sister started walking down the street and the bitch was kneeling down doing something to the ground, but I couldn’t make out what the fuck it was. Amazingly, there were no ball games today.

It looks like Kim got her computer back together again. She sent me a few messages. One updating me on her life, then a couple with jokes. It sounds like her life is typical. She’s just living with Walter in Northampton, instead of alone in Deerfield.

Monday, January 11, 1999

Let me do the freeloader update thing first. Bill was here today, and he left at the usual time of 4:30. Then a little while later, a black car was parked in the driveway that we’ve never seen before. Tom saw it as he was pulling in from getting me wax and getting a new filter for the AC duct. He said he saw a lady. During this car’s visit, I saw the bitch talking to the light blue car on the street for a minute. As I was going to listen to music, I heard the bitch yelling and saw her through the music room window talking to the lady who obviously just got into the black car. Yeah, as usual, she was pretty pissed. I don’t know if she was pissed at the lady or if she was just bitching to the lady about something that had her pissed off.

After the black car left, I could’ve sworn I heard a car door next door as I was in the bedroom talking with Tom, but when I went and looked (it was now dark) I saw no car. I saw that she did replace her porch light, though, and that that was on. It’s on right now, so I take it the cock or someone’s coming over. Maybe the car was over there but is in the carport and is just too hard to see in the dark, but I doubt it. Sometimes, though, their low cars are hard to see over that wall, even if I climb on a chair, cuz I’m so short.

Why is she always such a mean, mad, aggressive bitch? I can only imagine just what kind of mother she must be, and boy is it scary! The bitch changed her hairstyle. She’s got it in lots of braids, but it’s still tucked under at the nape of her neck. She looked sort of ridiculous from what I could see earlier (she was only about 10’ away) with some of the braids sticking out and hanging down. Her hair’s gotten long, though. To the middle of her back. Maybe a bit longer.

In my letter to Tammy, I enclosed some pictures of my dolls and some cute rat pictures I took last night. Just of Butterscotch and Ratsy, though. The two bravest. Porky and Mickey were camera shy. As I told her, though, I’ll get them shot sometime, and soon I’ll send pictures of us, too.

Tom and I didn’t get to have sex today as we’d planned, cuz he was too tired. Like I said, something up there does not want us to have sex during weekdays, but my crotch is basically only good for the weekends anyway, or else I’ll get sore. We did chat a bit, though, and we put together a list of the shit that’s gotta be done with this house. Here it is:

• Pick up roofing bits from the side and back of the house • Gravel the front • Replace the bathroom sink • Fill in the AC hole in the back room • Tear up back room carpet • Finish the front security door (take off back screen door) • Paint the inside and the outside of the house • Fill in the holes in the back room ceiling • Put a vent in the bathroom • Sand the bedroom closet door • Put a fence around the pool • Repaint the pool steps

Later...

Lights off next door. I noticed this a few minutes ago, so maybe she just forgot they were on.

Thanks to Butterscotch, I had to wash my hair just now and it’s not even a wash day. That’s cuz I literally “scared the shit out of him.” I went to pick him up and he freaked. He squealed and shit in my hair and all over my shirt. Not the usual hard duties, but runny shit. So I had to shower and wash my hair. The poor guy. I made it up to him as best I could with some extra lettuce and cheese.

Paula and I have been playing more phone tag. I’ll try to call her earlier tomorrow.

I just left Andy a message telling him of my test results, that my cold turned out to be the easiest cold I ever had, and that I hoped his visit with Juliet went well. I told him I wanted to hear about it and to leave me a message. When I told him Friday that I had a cold, he asked if there was anything he could do for me. That was nice of him.

I’ll get on with the test results which are sort of unfuckingbelievable in a moment.

First, let me cover Tammy’s latest shit. Sarah passed out cuz of some lung problem, Tammy’s got lung fluid that leaked out of her lungs and into her ribs (if I heard her right), Lisa’s still rebellious, and a young mother (always a young mother), and her two sons died in a fire that lived nearby. Tammy’s worried they’ll all die like they did cuz Lisa’s throwing spent matches onto the floor which is littered with papers. She said Lisa will not clean her room or do anything she was supposed to do and is asked to do, so she called the state on Tammy, then Tammy blew up and called her a bitch. Lovely. Just lovely. I thought my sister’s motto was that two wrongs don’t make a right It’s a waste of time I know, but I told her that name-calling and pitching fits won’t help solve anything. Of course, the state’s not gonna do anything like they almost never do, and Tammy says she’s gonna kick Lisa out when she’s 16 on the 20th of this month. If they call us about taking Lisa, well, I don’t know if I want to anymore. I still love Lisa and I always will, no matter if I never see or talk to her again or not, but Tammy’s right about Lisa’s lying. Tammy may be a shit mom who makes a million mistakes, but she’s not bullshitting when it comes to Lisa’s lying. Even Lisa herself admitted to me she’s lied, and she lied to me about not contacting Larry, so now that trust has been damaged. Maybe we wouldn’t have the same relationship we have on the phone if she came to live with us. Maybe Tammy’s right and maybe Lisa would walk all over us and raise hell.

I reminded Tammy too, that she really ought to smoke outside if she’s not gonna quit. Sarah and Becky don’t need that secondhand smoke. Again, though, it’s her life and she’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. No one can tell her what to do.

Maybe I’ve got more Dureen in me than I’d like, cuz I’m still leaning toward walking when we move. Then again, Dureen would stick around and try to change the person rather than just walk away, whereas I say - if you don’t like someone, don’t have anything to do with them. Don’t try to change or control them, just walk away. It’s not that I don’t like her, Lisa, or the girls, of course. It’s just the same old shit that brings me down and sometimes pisses me the fuck off. Maybe I’m a wimp, but I can’t deal with the anger and with the same old problems with Bill and all that shit (although I guess he kept his paws to himself in Florida). Tom, naturally, doesn’t think I should walk. He said that’d be like my dumping Andy just because someone pissed him off. In other words, that’d be his problem that he’d have to work out. Yeah, I know, but still, it’s that last remaining tie to the past that I really feel needs to be severed. It’s not that I wouldn’t feel bad about walking cuz Tammy wouldn’t do that to me. And also, I know it’s gonna hurt Lisa. But they don’t need me any more than I need to be a part of their problems and a part of that painful past, and as they know and will learn, people come and go throughout our lives. The only problems I can deal with right now are any that may arise within my own household and even that can be hard. This sterility shit I’ve been dealing with for years can really take its toll on me. When it isn’t downright reducing me to tears, it’s still playing on a back burner within my mind. That feeling of being abnormal and being controlled and punished by God is still lurking within my subconscious.

I got my card reminding me it was time for a cleaning/check-up so I first called the dentist to see if I could schedule an appointment with Charlene the same day I see Melanie on the 1st, but couldn’t get in that day. Melanie answered, by the way. So I made the appointment for the 8th. Then I saw that Tom had jury duty that day, so I called back and got Tisha who’s the receptionist that’s always there when I go in, and told her I couldn’t make it that day. So she moved me to the 22nd, and the good of it is that I can see Melanie right after it and hit two birds with one stone.

Then I called Dr. Well’s office and left a message saying that I wasn’t too happy that I haven’t been called back since leaving the message I left last Thursday and to please get back to me. So Monique, doctor Well’s nurse, called me back explaining that she had a family emergency, my HSG test was normal, she’s mailing me papers all about their fertility work-ups that they do, the next step will be to see if I’m ovulating and check his sperm after we’ve had sex, and that one-hour consultation with the doctor.

In other words, if I want to keep going, even though I know damn well what the end results will be, I have to lower myself to more painful tests and deal with his not cumming on command. Not that we’d have the time to screw around for this test if I was mid-cycle during the week. I don’t know if this is no worse than a regular exam, or what. I guess he’s supposed to get off when I’m mid-cycle, then I’m supposed to go in there and have them scrape a sample of his cum from me to see if his sperm count’s too low. Maybe to see if I have that bacteria that kills sperm, too. The doctor’s also gonna do something to see if I ovulate, but I have no clue as to what this could entail. Maybe she’ll give me pills to make me ovulate, then use an ovulation predictor test to see if I ovulated like I’m supposed to.

Tom’s insisting that cumming on a schedule will be no problem just like how he told me he’d cum when he did the last time he did, but I don’t know. Sometimes he keeps his word with that, but most of the time he doesn’t. He even said that he can’t cum under pressure. He can’t just cum on cue.

How can my uterus be fine? This is what I don’t get. Does this mean the DES didn’t affect me in any bad way? If my uterus and fallopian tubes are OK, does this mean my eggs are fucked up? My first guess was the uterus, but my second guess is the eggs since they made a guinea pig out of me for so long with so many different medications. Tom said it could be anything from the way I wash myself down there after sex, to my body temperature. But I thought I gave it enough time in between sex and washing. Is it body chemistry? Hormones? Or am I perfectly normal? Maybe I am normal after all. Like I said, God doesn’t have to visibly alter one’s plumbing in order to make sure they never have a child.

Tuesday, January 12, 1999

Just changed the rat’s cage around again. I also moved them by the back door so I could see them from the kitchen.

Tom took some nice pictures today before I got up. He took a couple of good ones of Shiny and an excellent one of Shiny. Took a couple of good shots of Porky too, and even a good one of Velvet. I was surprised, cuz Velvet’s hard to shoot cuz he’s just this big black blob.

Anyway, I went through the pictures we’ve been taking and cropped some, and put them where I want them. Some are just being stored on the computer and some are in my subdirectories.

I went to take a picture of Bill’s car at 3:30, but when I stepped out, there was a woman at the collie’s house who saw me, and I’d prefer to be discreet if I can help it. So, I’ll shoot the picture some other day, then enclose that in their little packet, be it superimposed with something or not. That really ought to creep them out.

I’m mailing Tammy and Andy some cute rat pictures and some of my favorite dolls. Stamps just went up a cent to 33¢, so we’ll have to get a few 1¢ stamps to add to the few old 32¢ stamps we’ve got. Like the PO really needs that extra precious cent! I’ve also got Lisa’s birthday card going out to her.

Got my jury dismissal notice in the mail, which is great.

I’ve picked out about 5 vibrators from a catalog that sells them that just came. Perfect timing. I’m really hooked on these things for when Tom’s unavailable. They won’t last long, though.

I asked Tom if he still wanted to take ibuprofen and get off when I’m mid-cycle, even though I know he could get off every day and I’d still get every period, and he said yes. So I made my best mid-cycle guess and that’s on MLK Day. So, we’ll have to screw with the fans on for sure, since they’re gonna be playing ball or whatever the fuck it is they’re gonna do to get my attention and recognition for that day. Yeah, they just gotta rub their color in that day.

I emailed Kim, Evie, and Marla and let them know the HSG test was negative. I told Andy too, on his machine. In his reply message to me, he said it was nice to know that there’s nothing wrong with me, so maybe Tom’s the problem. In my reply message, I told him that just because my uterus and tubes are OK, doesn’t mean my eggs aren’t or that there isn’t some other problem within my plumbing, but I could very well be OK since God doesn’t have to sterilize a woman to make sure she never conceives. All he has to do is just make sure she never conceives no matter if her parts are good or not.

He also said a prayer to God right on the phone for us to have a kid, and says God always comes through for him. If he always comes through for him then why is he still alone? And why isn’t he a rich and famous singer? Anyway, I told him he can do what he wants, but he’s wasting his time praying for a kid. I should know. I didn’t tell him I don’t want a kid and that I just want to rebel against God and go through the motions and play this thing out, even though I know how it’s fated to play out, cuz for a variety of reasons I’m not so open with Andy these days. I don’t discuss much at all with him anymore, whereas in the past, I’d tell him everything. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just that a lot of the time he’s too baked to get it or to remember a damn thing I tell him. He also tends to argue and challenge a lot of what I say. However, he’s been really supportive of this fertility shit I’m wasting my time with, and for that, I’m appreciative and grateful.

He didn’t get together with Juliet cuz she was sick. I hope they’ll get together some other time soon.

Later...

I haven’t heard from Evie lately. Maybe David decided he didn’t like those jokes I sent after all? Well, you know what? I don’t care. If her feelings have been hurt or if I’ve made waves of any kind, if it isn’t just a case of her being busy, I don’t care. My days of being overly sensitive to people’s feelings are over. All that matters is Tom’s feelings.

I decided to grow my bangs out. All of them. Not just on the sides. I got impatient with those sides sticking out and cut those, but now I’m gonna let them all grow out. I need something different, even though Tom and I both like bangs better, and I’m sick of having to always trim them and have them look good some days and dorky other days. Eventually, I’ll cut bangs again after they’ve grown out for a while.

Last night Paula called. She didn’t want me to look up another name for her, either. She just wanted to chat, and it had to have been our best chat yet. It was really nice. She was still her usual ditzy self, but we were giggling and talking about all kinds of things, and I even had a moment where tears stung my eyes over missing her. She talked again about coming out this summer, but who knows? We asked each other our ritual questions. I ask her if she’s experimented on the other side yet, and she asks me if there are any babies yet. She says she knows I’ll have one someday, but it’ll only happen when it’s time. Then she also said she’d find a way to get out here to help me through it if I did have a kid, which I thought was so sweet. I know I’ll never have a kid and that her getting out here isn’t as easy as she may think, but still, that was sweet of her. I know she’s sincere about it.

She’s going to Florida for a couple of weeks to visit her father.

She says she’s up to 140 pounds, has her hair short, and dyed maroon. Yuck. Maroon? Short? She looked so good with her long brown hair. Anyway, I told her about Chromium Picolinate and how it usually suppresses your appetite.

When I hung up, I said “love you,” as I do to those I’m close to and it was the first time she said it back.

Wednesday, January 13, 1999

Evie left me a lengthy message all about how Parker needs constant watching and is in his terrible twos early. It’s things like this that make me not want a child and that reminds me that I could never handle it. How would I not run out of patience and beat the snot out of the thing? Thankfully, I’ve been my usual self and haven’t had a bad day since the 7th. As long as days like the 7th are either never again, or far and few between, I’ll be perfectly content to remain childless. Still, I’m determined to meet with the doctor and hear what she has to say. I’m gonna rebel against God, even if I know what’s meant to be and what’s not. It’s like if I were in a fight; even if I knew the person could beat me, they’re gonna have to beat me down. I’m not gonna just bow down to them the instant they’re onto me just cuz I know they’ll win. Well, I’m not gonna run away from God anymore either, and be his little puppet. He may always win and I may be on his side with this issue, but I’m not gonna just lay down and accept his ways and be his victim. He controlled me and made me how I am for a reason and I want to know how he did it. Not just why. He’s taken enough from me. That’s all I can say. He’s allowed enough bad times to occur in my life. Although he took my plumbing for good, correct reasons, he’s not taking any more. Not if I can help it. I gave my ear, my plumbing, my childhood, and enough’s enough.

I still haven’t gotten that fertility info so naturally, I’m wondering if it was misdelivered.

Woke up at 109 pounds. God, when I was 125 pounds, it was hard to imagine me ever being 109 again, and now that I am, it’s hard to imagine I was up to 125 pounds! I still don’t like what I see when I look in the mirror. I still see someone who’s not downright fat, but who’s chunky, and who’s pure flab. I really should do some toning exercises, but I guess I’m lazy. I do wear the leg weights, though. Well, I know I’m not doing too bad overall. I may not look like I used to, but compared to your average woman, I’m pretty skinny and fit. Especially since most women do have kids and I haven’t.

I worry about Tom. His cold’s been dragging on cuz he hasn’t been able to get enough sleep. His mother made sure of that today and yesterday. Yesterday he went over to fix her light switch. When I asked why Mary or Dave don’t fix their own fucking light switches, he said he wouldn’t want them to. Today, he had to take her to get her staples out of her stomach. At least she’s doing really well and the swelling’s gone down in her feet. She can feel them again, too! Still, I wish God would have her move on and go join Dad. I’m sure they’d love to be together.

I haven’t worked on the puzzles I have on the vanity table in the music room, so I think I’ll go do that now.

Thursday, January 14, 1999

Got a steal of a deal on the home shopping channel! As you know, Bailey’s a sitting doll, 24” long, handmade, at a cost of $300. Well, they had a doll just two inches shorter, also sitting and handmade, for just $50! She’ll be here by the 24th. She’s Spanish and her name’s Maria! She’s got on red shoes with gold buckles, white stockings with a nice little design in them, a white dress with ruffles and a rose on the chest, a necklace, and some shiny veil-like thing on the head. She has brown hair and hazel eyes. Most of the dolls they have suck, but the dolls they do have are mostly bigger and cheaper compared to Ashton Drake and the doll stores we’ve been to. Way cheaper!

I’m also getting three vibrators. So, we have four things on their way; pictures, CDs, vibrators, and Maria.

The first of the books I got this time around is good. It’s called One Last Kiss.

Friday, January 15, 1999

It’s been a quiet Friday night. So far. The bitch isn’t out or expecting company from the looks of things. The porch light is off, and there are lights on inside. Usually, this means she’s home and expecting no one.

I dread this long MLK Day weekend. I know there’s gonna be some kind of scene from over there if not all three days, then one of them. I mean, with the fans, headphones, and knowing we’re out of here this year, I don’t “dread” weekend ball games, but you just never know if they’re gonna revert to their old ways and thump this house down with their fucking bass. Well, if they do, that’s their eviction notice and their problem. Not mine. From here on out, they won’t directly meet with me and my fists unless they begin waking me up constantly, and if they haven’t done this yet, I’m sure they won’t start. Meanwhile, when they go screaming and ball-playing, I’m not gonna give them the reaction they’d like, but I will have the city evict them if it’s ever necessary. The consolation in it, though, is that it’s our last one. Our last MLK Day here.

I received the latest Ashton-Drake catalog. I was surprised at how many new dolls they’ve got. They have a lot more boy dolls.

They had a couple of cute new dolls. One named Melissa and a cute two-doll set, but they were just too small. I prefer the bigger dolls. The stores are too expensive and the catalog’s too small, so I guess I’ll be doing business with the TV doll shows for a while. I told Tom to let me know when he thinks money’s available again and I’ll watch the show. Their dolls are bigger and cheaper.

Thank God I got Rapunzel and Patrice when I did, cuz they weren’t in the catalog. I don’t know if this means they broke their molds and they no longer exist, or if they put them in every other catalog or so, so they can feature more dolls, but I’m still glad I got them when I did.

Paula called again last night, so I called her back (I didn’t hear the phone ring when she called). Again, she didn’t want anything. Just to tell me that she got it on with this guy who’s already involved in his car in the middle of a snowstorm. I was surprised to hear her say she kind of felt bad for his girlfriend since she seemed nice. I didn’t know Paula was capable of considering someone else’s feelings. Anyway, she said he said they argue all the time. Paula said she’s gonna give him an ultimatum - it’s either her or the girlfriend. I told her that I felt that if he could cheat on his girlfriend, he could cheat on her. I don’t think she believes or wants to believe that, but it’s her life. She said I’m the only one that knows about this, too.

She’s also looking at apartments in Springfield and W. Springfield. Yeah, she sure moves around a lot like Fran did. I’m surprised she’s been where she is for as long as she has been. She says the people are too nosy where she is. Everyone’s nosy, I told her. Especially in apartments and even more so in projects.

I also got those fertility papers. It’s not as complex as I thought it was. Meaning, there aren’t a bunch of complex tests. However, since he rarely gets off, is constantly tired or busy, has to chauffeur his mom to appointments, and since I can’t keep a schedule to save my life, it’s complex for us. Meaning, they’re saying to screw 2-3 times a week. Yeah, right! Then they’re saying to screw every other day during mid-cycle. Ugh-huh. Sure.

I would never have known, though, that position can affect conception. They’re saying the best is the missionary position. That’s about the only thing we got right. However, they’re advising the woman to put a pillow under her hips and that the man stays still inside the woman while he’s having the orgasm. OK, two things we got right and are capable of doing, but that’s about it. They say KY jelly can weaken or kill sperm and they advise you not to use it, but I have to. I’m too dry nowadays during sex. That’s mainly why I get so irritated down there.

It looks like there are about five tests and I’ll be damned if I’ll do the fourth one, cuz that’ll be just as bad as the first test, the HSG (hysterosalpingogram). This is where they scrape uterus cells to see if your hormones are off-balance, but why didn’t they just do that while they were already in there doing the HSG test? The postcoital test is the second test where they test the cervical mucus. This test should be no worse than a regular pelvic exam. The last test is where they check his sperm if he’ll let them have a sample of it.

Anyway, I’m really sick of this stuff. I’ve really had enough. I don’t want a child, I’m not meant to have one, so I’m leaning toward calling it quits here. I see no need to put myself through any more shit when I got my answers. If my uterus isn’t fucked up, then there’s probably nothing visibly wrong at all. Like I said, you don’t have to visibly be fucked up for fate to carry itself out. On top of all this, we can’t meet the requirements for testing. He won’t cum that often, and we’re just too busy, too tired, or off schedule to even get together in the first place.

Saturday, January 16, 1999

I started doing some exercises with the leg weights on. The leg weights really make a big difference in my ability to really feel the muscles working. I think that extra resistance really helps. It was kind of boring doing the exercises to the music, so I'm now reading while I work out. The only ones I can't do while I read are the arm exercises. The rest, I can hold the book while I do them. Unless the print is large, I do one exercise per page. I'm now doing a total of 15 exercises.

Sunday, January 17, 1999

I have so much to write about but don’t know that I’ll get to it all in one sitting.

The text in this word processor can be centered, aligned to the left, aligned to the right, or aligned on both sides. I always had it where it’s lined up evenly just on the left side. However, I changed it so it’s lined up evenly on both sides and it looks so much better.

Saw a doll show again last night. Out of the 30 or so dolls they showed, only 2-3 of them were nice, but I can’t believe the prices! So cheap.

I also saw Dean Koontz’s Phantoms which just came out in a movie. I read the book a while back. The book I’m now reading is More Than You Know by Judith Kelman.

Andy called yesterday to tell me he received the doll and rat pictures and that the dolls are beautiful. Not what he had pictured.

I think that’s pretty much it as far as little tidbits of trivial stuff are concerned.

Now onto the shit that’s going on around here. Same old, same old. He’s sick again! Yeah, you heard right. Damn! I am so sick of his sicknesses! This guy’s either sick, or dead tired, or busy taking care of his mother, and I’m sooooo fucking sick of it!!! Is this same old shit ever going to end? That’s a stupid question, huh? He’s wondering if all this sickness might not end up building up his immunities as it did with me. Because I had had one cold or flu after another for so long, my immune system is now tougher than all hell, but I also had a pneumonia shot. He didn’t. I can see if he was a smoker like I used to be, but he’s not. There’s no reason he should be getting this sick this often. I urged him to go to a doctor about it, but I don’t know. He had a fever of 104º before and said he’d have gone to the ER if it had hit 105º. Still, I wonder, am I gonna get sick again? And if I do, will it be as easy as the last cold I had which barely counted as a cold and barely lasted 30 hours?

I’m just really bummed out here and even a bit scared. How many more years is his time gonna be tied up in his mother and his colds? And what would God replace him with if his mom and colds were suddenly gone? See? We couldn’t have a kid if I still wanted one and were OK, not just because God wouldn’t allow it, but because there’s no time to have sex more than once every week or two, and therefore, there certainly wouldn’t have been time to raise it. He says he disagrees with all this, but I’ve always felt he just loves to disagree with me. It’s like he’s obsessed with it.

Before I go do other things, let me just say that I’m canceling the consultation and further testing because I don’t want a kid, a child is not meant to be no matter what, and we can’t meet the testing requirements. There’s no way we can screw 2-3 times a week. He’s just too sick, too tired, or too busy. As always, he overestimates us and says things can change. If they’ve been the way they have been for as long as we’ve been together, then they’re not changing. I still have a relatively low drive compared to when we first met, but thank God for the toys that are on their way. They really help fill in the huge gaps here.

How are we ever gonna do what we’ve got to do in this house in order to sell it and get enough money out of it, move, and build our dream house if he’s always sick, tired, or busy??? Again, he totally disagrees with this, but thank God I didn’t get pregnant back when I wanted to. Not just because I couldn’t have handled carrying it, having it, and rearing it, but because if he’s so tired, sick, and busy now, imagine what it would’ve been like for him then!

Unfortunately, I’m on a night schedule now. Got up at 6 PM. I say it’s unfortunate because I’d really like to be up for tomorrow’s antics next door. I’m afraid that if they wake me up, however slim of a chance that may be, I won’t be able to control my actions. I’d lose control for sure if they woke me up in this day and age.

Why the fuck couldn’t they have waited just a little longer to acknowledge MLK Day out here?! Instead, they had to fucking acknowledge it the very same year I came out here. They haven’t acted out today or yesterday, according to Tom, but it’s tomorrow that they will. However, as Tom pointed out, things are different this year. Last Labor Day was the first one that they didn’t make a scene on, so maybe this will be the first MLK Day they won’t make fools of themselves. We’ll see. I don’t have a bad vibe right now, but we’re gonna have to get closer to morning before I can tune in to what may occur over there. I’m surprised there haven’t been any ball games yet this weekend, but there’s another force at work here. It’s not just them that’s harassed me, but it’s also God using and allowing them to badger me. So in a sense, I’m not surprised there were no ball games today. God knew I wouldn’t be up to hear it, not that I would’ve gone and cranked the fan or music up, but it’s just the principle of the point - neighbor’s noise. Deliberate neighbor’s noise.

In due time, God. In due time. That’ll all change. Of course, he’ll go do something else, but I’ll deal with that then.

Another reason I want to push my schedule onto days is so I can be up when Maria arrives. Unless she comes towards the end of the week, I probably won’t be up to get her if she comes on Tuesday. That seems a little too soon, though, even though they said by the 24th. Meaning, she could come sooner. I just hope that if she comes when I’m asleep, whoever delivers her leaves her out front. I don’t know if she’s coming by regular mail, UPS, or what?

Saturday, January 23, 1999

And here I was saying how I was sick of him being sick. Well, I guess my tough immune system exists no more, cuz I got sicker than a dog! We both did.

Let me get the quicker subjects out of the way first. Those that don’t take much to write about. At 8 AM on MLK Day, I had a feeling that there wouldn’t be any trouble from next door. I was right. Till 7:30. Yeah, as they do every MLK Day, they had to make their MLK Day salute by banging in for about two minutes. It was the white car this time. Not the cock. I haven’t seen him lately, but that could be just because of my schedule. They came in just two hours after I’d gotten up. God held them off till I got up cuz Tom said he didn’t hear anything else. There weren’t any ball games either since I was on nights. I’m kind of between nights and days right now so who knows what’ll go on this weekend as far as ball games go? Anyway, the white car was dropping the bitch and the mistake off and of course, they made the big deal of it they usually make. Had to slam doors and yell for about five minutes, but the music was only a 90-second thing. Yeah, they were about due for their little music scene they give us every few months, and of course they’d pick MLK Day to do it. If we all were here for 20 more MLK Days, then that’s 20 more MLK Days that they’d do something to get attention. Like I said, though, we’re pretty sure it’s just their I-gotta-rebel-against-her-every-few-months thing since they know one time every now and then won’t get them in trouble, but this weekend will be a test to see if they’re planning on reverting back to old times. If they do, I’ll take care of it, naturally, by doing two things. I’ll beat the shit out of them and I’ll contact the city. Once again, I really hope I don’t have to do this, since according to the stock market, we’re looking at a 75% chance we’ll be out of here in what he says is May, June, or July. I vibe June, July, or August. I want us to go first. Not just so I can make my little delivery to them, but cuz I don’t trust that they’ll leave this house alone. Tom says it’s awfully hard to burn down a brick house. Then they’ll shoot it up, I said, but he disagrees. He said if they went first, they might play loud music while they were loading up, but that’s all they’d do.

I’m so sick of these blacks and Mexicans! If I never see them again it’ll be too soon. All they want to do is deal drugs, kick ass, and gangbang it while they mooch off of welfare and our tax dollars and cry racism. If Abe Lincoln were resurrected tomorrow, I’d put him in the ground again for freeing these subhuman pieces of sheer shit!

We got the pictures back and what a huge difference in these pictures of me compared to the California ones from last April! I didn’t look all that fat at all and when I asked him if he thought I looked fat, he said not even close. So I scanned copies for Andy and Tammy. I also enclosed a couple of pictures of Tom giving himself a haircut with the home haircutting thing we have.

Even Dureen and Art will be getting mail from me. Yeah, you heard right. Tom’s big on not throwing things out, so instead of ditching that big picture of Dureen, Art, Larry and his kids, I decided to mail it back to them and have Andy stick in a message with a couple of those pictures of me we just got. Andy really doesn’t have a damn thing to do with this, but I said I was Andy typing the message, which was only about five lines long. I said I saw Jodi as she was about to throw away that picture and I urged her to address an envelope to you and let me send it to you. She just stepped out at a neighbor’s and doesn’t know I’m also enclosing this message and these pictures. She still doesn’t smoke and is thin again, she had fertility testing and her uterus and tubes are OK, she and Tom are doing great, she’s now into doll collecting, getting ready to move in a few months, and still doesn’t want to talk to you.

In other words - she’s doing just fine without you!

Maria still hasn’t come. Tom said maybe they really do have a set system where they know exactly what day she’s gonna get here. Also, if we don’t get her by Monday, we’ll call them. And maybe we should take a visit to N. 21 Dr. too.

Later...

I forgot to mention the very vivid dream I had the night before I called and canceled the consultation with Dr. Wells. In the dream, I had a test confirming the mucus within my uterus was so bad that I could never conceive. Now that was a definite sign from God or from something. Maybe my uterus mucus or anything else isn’t necessarily fucked up, but the point’s the same - a reminder of what’s meant to be. This, along with logic, helped me to make the decision to cancel. I always believed that God guides us throughout our lives in the ways that he wants and that if we stray onto the wrong path, he guides us back to the right path.

Do I think I’m meant to resume testing at a later date? No. I mean, I know I wasn’t meant to deal with my ear back when I first went to Boston about it in the late 80s, and I know I wasn’t meant to deal with the impacted tooth when I first checked into it in 1994 (at least I think it was in 1994), but this is different.

OK, now about this flu we’re just getting over. It was a killer! I haven’t had the flu or been this sick since the very early 90s. I’ve never had a fever like this either. He got up to 104º and I got up to 102º. The fever kept going on and on, too. Every time it’d lower, it’d go back up again. It was the longest sore throat I’d had too, and a cough just like when I smoked. My lungs burned and stung like hell when I’d cough, and we were both coughing up blood. We had the exact same symptoms. He’s a day or two ahead of me, though. He still has a cough and a sore throat. I still have a slight cough. The cough was weird because I didn’t feel congested till I’d cough. You’d think your lungs were empty till you’d cough and find that there was a lot to cough up. It was high up, I guess, rather than deep down in the lungs. I wonder if the constant tightness I was having prior to getting sick had anything to do with this.

Anyway, I’m really glad to be feeling better. I was quite miserable. I could only sleep for three hours every twelve hours till the night before last. I was too sick to be functional in any way. Tom had to wait on me a lot. If I were still alone, I’d have been fucked! I couldn’t read, I couldn’t write, I couldn’t sing. All I could really do was listen to music or lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.

As I told Tom, this shit’s gotta stop. I can’t keep playing cold and flu with him, now that I know that if he gets sick, I get sick too. He has to do something about his getting sick so often. It’s not only hard on us both when just he would get sick, but now that it’s gonna be both of us, that’s gonna really put a damper on our lives and make things tough. So, he’s starting with changing his lousy eating habits. Hopefully, he’ll do this for more than a week, and hopefully God will let this be the answer. Then we’ll worry about what shit he replaces his colds with once we find a way to get rid of them if we can. I can see one or two colds a year, but his five or six colds a year are absolutely ridiculous for a man who doesn’t smoke, doesn’t have a wife who smokes, or has kids wearing him down.

I’m down to 108 pounds. I had almost no appetite whatsoever while I was sick, but the reason I didn’t drop down to 105 or lower was cuz I also didn’t shit while I was sick. My body hung onto all it could. Its shit, its water, its everything.

I’m gonna begin a veggie diet. I got a good idea that’ll let me eat regularly to keep me from being hungry, yet that’s very low in calories. I’ll eat five times a day, every three hours. Popcorn, soup, and small cans of peas, green beans, corn, and things like that. I’m gonna give up the TV dinners for a while. I’m a little sick of them.

I’m looking a lot better, even if I still do have my share of flaws. My hair’s dead and uneven and I still have craters. My face is out of proportion cuz of my big eyes, average nose, and little round hole of a mouth. I also have a pointy chin, wide cheeks, and a narrow forehead.

Tom said he heard a report saying that if you do journaling, it’ll build up your immune system. Then why was I sicker than a dog back east? I was doing journals there. I asked him this and he said to compare how much I wrote before moving in here and how my health was before moving in here. Well, he has a point. I’ve been writing much more since living with him and I’ve been much healthier, too.

Sunday, January 24, 1999

Tom said there was no activity next door yesterday. Yeah, but I also slept from 1 PM, which is about their time to come to life for the day, till late in the evening. Only God would know if there would’ve been any activity had I been up.

Woke up again at 108 pounds. I doubt I’ll shit today cuz of it.

Another thing Tom and I wondered about when we were going through all the different possible causes of sterility could be his having meningitis as a kid. He doubts it and so do I, but could it have damaged his testicles? Well, that’s OK that we’ll never know for sure if there was anything wrong with him, my eggs, hormones, or whatever, cuz fate is fate and that’s fine with me. I love my freedom.

Well, I was wrong. I just had to shit. Be back to write more after I eat.

Later...

Wow! Just like old times. I get full before I can finish my food. For a while there, after quitting smoking, I’d eat every bite and still be hungry.

Maria still didn’t come. Who’d the mailman give her to? They said she’d be here by the 24th, but did they know that the 24th is a Sunday? Tom said if we don’t get her by Monday, we’ll call them. Always a problem getting dolls. Always.

Later...

A long time ago Tom said he’d set up a thing that allowed me to choose which pictures to tile and which to center for my wallpaper. Right now, they all have to be one way or the other. Since that was one of the many things he never had time to do, I found a way around having it be one or the other. I went into this program that allows me to select a screen-size background and center the ones I wanted to be centered that way. I put pretty colorful backgrounds on the ones that wouldn’t quite stretch to fit the screen.

I had Mickey in the pink ball that Tom got while I was sick.

I got five animal cards in the mail from that pushy Humane Society, so I used them for my nieces, Tammy, and Paula.

I told Tom I’d like to put the bed back on its frame since taking off the frame ended up serving no purpose like I should’ve known. He’ll have time for it hopefully in a month or two from now.

Yesterday I was tight again, but this time, it wasn’t just cuz of the pollution. It was cuz of the congestion I had. So far, I’m better today. My cough is almost all gone.

Once again, Andy’s so rude and selfish that I wonder why I even bother with him! He left a message saying he got my mail and agreed I looked thin and have lost weight. Then he said that that was a crock of shit how I said I’d come over and take care of him if he got this flu. So I left a message telling him that that was rather insulting of him to call me a liar like that. I really would do everything I could to help him if he needed it. As long as Tom didn’t need me more than he did at the moment. Then he started smacking in my ear and admitted that he’d just started munching, so he was gonna hang up. Of course, he couldn’t just wait the two extra seconds. He deliberately had to start eating right before he hung up, not right after. People just can’t do the simplest little things! He never asked how I was feeling, either.

In an earlier message to me, he mentioned Laura moved back in, but only for a little while. He said he’d explain that one to me some other time.

Once again, I decided to give printing out these journals a break. Meanwhile, I still have all those pages made up of picture borders of family pictures, animals, journals, drawings, etc. So I picked the ones I didn’t want to send Tammy or anyone I know to use for the freeloaders. Pictures without us in it, naturally.

Later...

We’re gonna be screwing in a little while, which I have no desire to do. It’s just that I’d feel mean by saying no, even though he doesn’t want to get off with me any more than I want to with him. I prefer vibrators nowadays. He just went into the bathroom to do a duty, so he says, but I know why he really went into the bathroom.

Freeloader update: Miss Bitch and her slew of company were off to an early start today. I looked out to see two white cars (one on the street with the rack on its trunk and one in the driveway with the thick black trim), three adult women, and at least four kids. The kids were playing ball for a few minutes, but mostly, they were just wandering about with the adults who were all clustered around the car on the street. They were there for about ten minutes, then the car on the street quietly left, and the one in the driveway left a few minutes later playing soft music. I don’t think the bitch was in this car.

Are they testing me? Slowly pushing the music back on me to see how much I’ll take? Well, I won’t take hardly much at all. Trust me, you fucking freeloaders!

Anyway, the bitch was wearing a green sweatsuit, and her little friend was wearing a royal blue or purple one. One of the women was around the bitch’s height and had on a white long-sleeved shirt with denim overalls and a cap. The other woman was very tall.

One of the boys headed into our yard and got to the center of it before the bitch called it back. One of the kids’ names is Jordan.

Monday, January 25, 1999

Andy’s being a pest again with his constant messages. That’s cuz he’s not working till Wednesday unless the temp agency calls. How can he expect to live? How can he make ends meet by working just a few hours a week? He just has no life whatsoever. I don’t see how he can afford his rent alone. Forget about utilities, car payments, pot, cigarettes, and food.

He said he was in this area with Laura looking for an apartment for her, but couldn’t find one. I thought apartments were plentiful out here.

Then he also said something about meeting Barbara Nicks at her house to give her a demo tape of Stevie’s. Something like that. I may’ve misunderstood what he said the meeting was for.

Tom went to begin working on the patio roof yesterday, but he not only found that he didn’t have enough roofing, but he also felt too weak and his cough returned, so he had to stop. This was what he told me in his message to me at 7:30 last night right before he left for work. I crashed at about 1:00 yesterday and didn’t get up till midnight. Guess I was zonked! He didn’t say anything about how the freeloaders returned, so I take it there was nothing to report on. I’ll still ask him when he comes in which will be a couple of hours from now.

Yesterday’s sex hurt like hell. I guess I used too much KY jelly cuz he went flying in there and it felt like I was being ripped apart and I felt a lot of pressure too. Tom says it’s because it’s been two weeks. Yeah, I know, and this part-time screwing has to stop for once and for all. My crotch just can’t take it. We just can’t screw consistently. Period. Maybe after we’ve moved and settled in the new place we can, or maybe when he retires, but we have never been able to yet and I don’t see us able to in the near future, and this isn’t what God wants for us cuz he’s never helped us find ways to screw consistently, so we need to find other alternatives. Maybe toys. Maybe just lying in bed cuddling and talking. Maybe oral and hands.

For the third time in a row, I woke up at 108 pounds. Getting thin again is nice, but it worries me. What will going back to being thin bring since it seems I always swap one problem for another one? Will it bring back the baby desires? Or will it bring some whole new problem? God, just don’t let me go back to wanting that child I can never have, please!

Later...

Tom told me he didn’t hear the bitch come in yesterday at all. Not even door slamming. However, he assumed she did come in at some point, cuz there were lights on when he left for work. Wow. And I didn’t even hear Bill pull in this morning and I was in the back room. The room that you can hear the door slamming the most in. Then again, Bill parked outside the carport. That makes a big difference.

Now here’s something really fucking weird. The cock parked on the corner of W. Weldon and N. 21 and walked to its bitch’s place from there. Now why on earth would it do that?

Tom and I were discussing reasons why Maria might not be here, besides my rotten doll luck or the mailman misdelivering her. They could’ve been wrong with the date they gave as to when she’d arrive, or he accidentally could’ve given the wrong credit card number. But if that were the case, why didn’t they call? Well, Tom will call them today or tomorrow about it.

Tuesday, January 26, 1999

We got the bed frame back on the bed. I forgot just how high this bed is!

Got a message from Marla and five from Evie. Yeah, she couldn’t send just one message to save her life. Most of them were jokes.

A white city pickup was next door yesterday, but not for long. It had the city emblem and the word housing on the door of the truck. Probably just inspecting. Making sure the bitch wasn’t up to any more no-noes. Bill was there when they came. I wonder if they think he lives there.

I dread this coming weekend as much as I dreaded the last three-day weekend. This is Super Bowl Sunday coming up, and even though the cock isn’t living there, it still means carloads of kids and company playing ball, and maybe even some bass, too. Well, once again, I’d rather they stay here till we move, but if they have to go, then they have to go. I have a right to live in peace while I’m still here, too.

Later...

I gotta really watch it now. I woke up at 110 pounds today cuz I ate like a pig yesterday. Yesterday was the first day since getting sick that I was starving. I was doing just fine on my veggie diet today till I felt a little drained and had Tom pick me up a T-bone when he called from Ma’s to ask if I wanted anything. He said I lacked protein. Whatever. I had around 1500 calories today and that’s gonna put me waking up at 112 pounds, so after today, I’ve really gotta watch it. At least I’m not stuck. I’m gonna get watery, though, at this time.

He’s gonna call an 800 number when he gets up to find out why my doll never came.

Wednesday, January 27, 1999

I had that T-bone and was surprised to wake up at 109 pounds and not 111-112 pounds.

Tom overslept, so he won’t have time to call about Maria till he gets home.

Two black guys in a cranberry-colored car came over next door yesterday while Bill was there, but was only here for a few minutes. I’ve recently seen these black guys in this car visit quickly. They haven’t played music, but they make sure to announce their arrival by door slams and loud talking.

Lately, I’ve been bored. Yeah, believe it or not, my usual hobbies just aren’t enough lately. I need some fun, new project, but what? Can’t think of any.

Later...

It’s looking like it may rain out there, but the barometer doesn’t say so. Sometimes I wonder if the thing’s broken.

Yesterday, I shooed three kids out of our front yard by an old tree stump we have. They may have just stopped to innocently chat there, but I couldn’t know this for sure, so I opened the door and asked what they were doing. Without a word, they moved on. Why do kids today have to do their thing in other people’s yards?

Later...

The renters just gave me a ten-minute concert, but it was nothing compared to what I’d get from the freeloaders. Some dude is apparently working on his car out front. They got the front door open too, and at first I couldn’t be sure if the music was coming from the car or from inside the house, but anyway, the doors of the car were open and the guy was doing something in the hood. He’s hosing it down now. He killed the music right before he went to hose it off.

A young woman just came out to join him. They’re white and very young. Early 20s. Maybe even 18 or 19. What’s weird, though, is don’t they ever work? Every day there’s a vehicle in that driveway. In fact, four of the houses across the street always have a car or two in their driveway. Does anyone on this street work during the day? Anyway, hopefully, any music will be rare and as soft as that was. It was soft and not all bass. I could drown out its beat very easily with a soft fan.

Tom called about Maria. They say she’s on her way and that if she doesn’t come by Friday to call them and they’ll put a trace on her.

Tom still has a sore throat. I wonder why. That’s an awfully long sore throat.

How many people are living over there? The red car’s gone, but the woman and the dude are still there bopping around the white car they’ve been working on.

Andy just left me a message telling me how happy he is in Phoenix and that this is his home, etc. Yeah, I know. And as I told him in my reply, he’s not going back east. He knows it, I know it, so, so be it.

Please, Maria, be here today! The only problem with that is that I don’t sense her. I’m usually pretty good at sensing when packages are coming. Every psychic has their hot spots. Mail is one of them for me.

Thursday, January 28, 1999

My vibes were right. No Maria. Tom says he thinks we’ll have to end up calling them to put a trace on it by how shocked the rep he spoke to was. The rep was shocked cuz we should’ve gotten that damn doll by now. Why the fuck is there always a problem with getting dolls?

This month is the direct opposite of last. Last month I had major PMS as far as pre-cramps, water, and sore tits went. This month, I’m just four days away from my period and I have not one stitch of PMS. I think I know what that means. I’ll probably start spotting a few days late. Therefore, I won’t get a full flow till about a week later than I was originally supposed to.

I have an idea which may reduce the irritation I get down there, which I told Tom. I told him that since he too, seems to be content with sex on the weekends, since I haven’t heard him complain or seen him scramble to try to change our sex habits, I’m gonna insert a couple of fingers in there every Friday. That way, I should be more open and ready for the weekend. If we have to miss a weekend, I’ll keep myself as open as possible with my fingers, so that when we do get back into it, it won’t be such a shock to my crotch, since we’ll probably miss about one weekend a month. Meanwhile, the toys will supplement me during the week.

Overall, my appetite’s usually kind of low, but I do have horny spurts, so since my husband usually can’t take care of me, those toys really help! I just wish they too, would hurry up and get here! Of course, all three vibrators will be broken by the turn of the century.

Later...

Woke up at 110 pounds today, so I’ve got to watch it.

Typing’s rather difficult for me now cuz I put those airbrushed nails on again.

Tom’s on vacation from the 8th-12th of next month. Supposedly, we’re gonna go look at land, but I don’t know. It seems God’s always determined to steal his vacations. If it’s not the roof, then it’s an illness, and if not that, then Ma needs him. He has jury duty on the 8th as it is. Hopefully, God will let him have this vacation, but with our luck, his mother will fuck things up by having to go into the hospital at the start of his vacation. How much do you want to bet, though, that he’ll still want sex only on the weekends? Well, it suits me well, and whatever turns him on, turns on him.

Changed the rats’ cage yesterday. One of these days soon I’ll have to do the pig and mice.

It’s still a bit early, but so far, my vibes say there’ll be no doll, toys, or CDs today. Packages typically come in groups, anyway. So when we get the doll, we’ll probably get the toys or CDs too.

Later...

We’re getting closer to mail time and my no-doll vibe’s growing. Who did you give it to, you little fuck of a mailman? To the wrong street? The freeloaders? Someone else?

Tom got in about an hour ago and has gone to bed.

He doesn’t think Maria was misdelivered. He thinks she got lost in the mail. Whatever. I’m just sick of having to have such a hard time with getting dolls.

He says Mary’s talking to Mom about giving each of her kids $10,000 of the money she’s to leave after she’s gone. Just think, we could’ve had a total of $100,000 if he was an only child! It’s just my luck he has to have so many siblings! Anyway, you don’t have to pay taxes on anything that’s not over $10,000. I had a dream about this, too. He says, though, that this probably won’t happen until the end of the year. God, can’t we just get on with it here! Can’t you just take this burden of a woman who no doubt would love to be joined with her soul mate and let us get out of here and on with our lives? June or the end of the year just seems too far away right now, even though time flies.

Tom says they shouldn’t raise hell next door this Super Bowl Sunday, cuz the teams that are playing aren’t very popular compared to last year. Yeah, but there’ll be something. There’ll be at least half a dozen kids playing ball, even if it’s only for ten minutes.

Later...

The mailman isn’t here yet, but I just know my doll isn’t coming, and I’m getting pissed. I’m really getting pissed. What? Am I being teased when it comes to dolls and things I really want? It’s like something’s dangling the dolls overhead just out of reach saying, “You want it? Come and fetch it? Fight for it.” Well, I’m tired of having to fight for stuff in the mail, and what pisses me off even more is that there’s not a damn thing I can do about it! From now on, I’m not ordering any more dolls unless they’re to die for. Only then will I fight for them.

Got a free porn video from that company that’s to be sending the toys. They say they’re on their way, so maybe I’ll get them, maybe I won’t. It’s hit or miss.

Friday, January 29, 1999

I guess Melanie will be calling me to remind me of our appointment on Monday.

I can’t believe how fast these teeth move! They don’t overlap anymore, and from the looks of it, only one tooth is still out of place. Are these things really going to need to be on till December? And aren’t the top ones due to come off soon? I’ll have to ask her.

I lost four nails this morning while doing housework. I took off the comforter that I bought when we got this bed, which is going to be washed this weekend, and put a floral one on that Dureen sent.

I’m doing one load of laundry today, and soon I’ll do the dishes.

I haven’t been nearly as tight as I had been for a while there. I guess in the end, the flu brought up all the pollution that was stuck down in my lungs. The little bit of rain we had helped, too. As far as we know, it didn’t leak in here, but it was only a light rain which didn’t last long.

Butterscotch bit me. I went to stick my finger in their cage like I always do and he bit the tip of my finger, drawing blood. I had to wear a Band-Aid for a while. I didn’t bite him back, of course, but I scared the shit out of him by chasing him around the cage and poking at him, so hopefully he’ll learn by this that biting me is not acceptable. If he does it again, I’ll want to swat him good!

Time to go online now and get my six Evie messages.

Later...

I decided to put AOL on hold in case Melanie calls. She hasn’t yet so I think that means that the other lady will be calling. Melanie usually calls by 9:15. The other lady usually does her calling at just after 10:00.

I ditched some more stuff that we’re not taking with us, like Norah posters I’d made, puzzles I’d taped and hung up, animal pictures from calendars, etc.

Every few months they pick up bulk stuff and the next run is in a couple of weeks. We’ll be putting stuff in the alley that we won’t need till we move and that we won’t be keeping, of course. I dragged out the two worst chairs that go to this pitiful kitchen table and the chair to the drawing table. I dragged them out in the backyard for us to put in the alley when it was time.

I’ve gone through the sheets and towels and ditched extras we’ll never use.

I propped open the back screen door. Before we take it off, as we plan to do and not bother to replace it, I want to make sure the cat doesn’t claw the hell out of the door. I doubt he will. If he’s at the back door, he usually just meows and it’s only when he hears us bustling about the house and wants to come in. I doubt he’ll claw on it for hours when we’re not available to let him in, but this will be a good test.

Later...

It’s 10:30 and still no call from the dentist, so I went online, and wow! Only one Evie message. It was a cute joke.

I was just hanging out clothes, and Jesus fucking Christ! Those collies are lucky I don’t have a gun!!

Later...

Maria’s here! And I was right about packages coming in groups too, cuz I got my vibrators as well. Maria’s gorgeous and I took a couple of pictures of her for Tammy and the girls to see. One of her full body and one of her face. She’s about Bailey’s size and I can’t believe that despite her being the same size, and having all the detail she’s got, she cost $50 and Bailey cost $300. Maybe the price cut is in her hands, as Tom mentioned. Both her hands aren’t as realistic as Bailey’s. She’s got a gold net-like veil trimmed with a black fringe that goes down her back. The veil is attached by a pretty gold fan clip that stands up on top of her head. Her dark curly, soft hair came in a ponytail, but I took it down. It looks good curly too, so I’m not gonna straighten it. Her curls fall to her waist, which is still long enough for me, even if it’s not as long as Bailey’s and Rapunzel’s. As Tom said, she has good lips for a doll. Lips are something that doesn’t always look good on a doll. Edie’s got the worst lips of all. Anyway, they’re nice and full and it looks like she may have lip liner. Her eyes are the most gorgeous shade of light brown I ever saw. I was worried about this at first, cuz I couldn’t tell their color on TV too well. I thought she had hazel eyes which isn’t very Hispanic. She has black eyeliner along the lower lashes. Her necklace is a thin red strand with gold threads, and her shoes are red with gold buckles. She has white net-like stockings with some kind of pattern. The main color of her two-piece satin outfit is off-white. It’s not quite what I’d describe as pearl or crème colored. Maybe ivory. There are two layers of ruffles at the shoulders trimmed with red and black. The bottom of the dress has three layers trimmed in red and black. The dress comes to above the knees. She has matching pantaloons. On the chest of the dress is a clump of three red flowers. A major hit to the entire outfit. One hand is flexed upward sort of like one of Sunshine and Lollipop’s. Why, I don’t know. I put a bracelet on this wrist that I made of red shiny beads. Her other hand has its palm turned sort of upward cuz this is the hand that holds the fan I didn’t realize she came with. The fan is white, covered with black and gold netting, and trimmed with the same red and gold that’s in her necklace. She’s not a sitting or a standing doll. She’s more like a leaning doll. I have her leaning against a jewelry box that’s about 8” high. Her legs don’t move at the hips like Bailey’s do and her arms don’t move at the shoulders, either. Both their heads move, though.

I’m psyched to have my first Hispanic doll. She looks much more Hispanic in person. Especially when I put her next to Bailey. You can see the color in her compared to Bailey’s whiteness.

It looks like I’ll be doing my doll shopping from the home shopping channel from here on out. They have mostly boring dolls, but their sizes and prices are quite a hit with me. If you like more expensive dolls that are smaller, then this place isn’t for you.

I still have hopes of having a doll that’s about 30” standing someday. And more as far as a variety of outfits and colors go. More hair and clothing colors. I’d still like someone wearing pink and I’d like to have a black doll, an Indian doll, and maybe an oriental doll too.

The cranberry-colored car was here again. Same scenario - the passenger went into the house for a few minutes, came out, then they left.

I missed Melanie’s call just before 11:00 cuz of all the excitement of getting Maria. She and the toys came just after 10:30, then the regular mail came just after 2:00.

Andy called asking if I could mail the papers Donna gave me so he could try to call some of these businesses to set up appointments, but I told him I dumped them. He said not to worry about keeping them, that Donna would have copies, and she never called about picking them up, so I dumped them. I also don’t see how this would work out for him either, but if he can get another copy from Donna and have it work out, more power to him.

I had a vision where the scale said either 106 or 107 before 2-3 weeks is up. That’d be nice.

Saturday, January 30, 1999

Let me describe the toys I got yesterday. There are three different vibrators.

There’s a microvibe that’s really small. About the size of a tube of lipstick. It only takes one AAA battery (the others take two AA) and as cute as it is, I don’t see how the hell it could get me off. Not unless I was really horny.

The one that’s supposed to simulate oral sex doesn’t feel anything like oral sex and is more of a nuisance that’s not worth it. You have to hold the thing in place, too. I like to have my hands free. I’ll use the vibrator part of it, though, which has got a so-so kick. More kick than the micro vibe. I have it in the bathroom for if I get horny while Tom’s asleep.

The one with the most kick is in the bedroom.

The pleasure panty is great. It’s a red vinyl G-string that has a pocket in its crotch for inserting the vibrator and it really holds it in place.

I’m not a video fan, so I left that for Tom to check out.

Tom’s working this morning as part of the end-of-the-month thing where they all go in on a Saturday. He said he should be home around 2:00. Prime freeloader time (PNT). Although the freeloader’s peak time is from about noon till sundown. Oh, there’s some door slamming and yelling after dark, but only for a few minutes. When it’s light out, there’s room for more activity - even longer bouts of yelling, more door slamming, and ball games. I know how these sick fucks operate. Whether or not there’s a Super Bowl commotion, they’re not done paying us back for the roofing noise, so there’ll be ball playing either today and tomorrow or definitely at least one of these days. They’re not gonna let a weekend go by where we don’t hear from them for quite a while. I know these people, like I said, but their hear-me-too scenes better not include music.

Later...

So far, the only activity at the freeloaders is that they’re having their yard done right now by the people who usually do their yard. Why the fuck are they doing their yard in January? They have Bermuda grass too.

The white car should be showing up anytime now.

Later...

Holy shit. It’s already 3:00, yet no cars have been next door. They’ll make up for this quiet time. Trust me.

I guess we’re gonna screw around later. Or tomorrow. Whichever he chooses. I told him to decide and I’d go along with it, but I don’t want to. I just don’t want to. I’m sick of sex with him and I totally prefer the vibrators. They do everything I like/want and they’re available whenever I want them. They don’t get sick, tired, or make excuses.

How do I tell this to Tom, though? How do I tell him how I feel? I just can’t bring myself to. Maybe a big reason why I can’t bring myself to discuss this with him is knowing how he’ll feel about it. It won’t faze him. He won’t care, and he may even get off on it deep down. He’d never do anything to try to spice things up, and I know him. If he did, it’d only be for a week or two, then it’d be right back to the usual. He just has to control the sex. He has to make sure he doesn’t cum and make sure we do it part-time just so he can be in control, although there are some things that are out of his control. That is out of our control, like my sleep schedule and his work schedule, for example. It’s not that I have a problem with him not cumming and us doing it part-time, it’s that I have a problem with his controlling things and with the damn predictability of it all. Almost every time we get into bed to screw, I know what’s gonna happen. There are no surprises. It’s a bore. I get him hard either by hand or by him rubbing against me, he goes in there lying on his side, then he goes in there from on top, then he pulls out without cumming. Maybe another reason I don’t tell him how I feel is cuz I want him to be happy. His ways obviously make him happy or else he’d have tried to change them a long time ago. So, although I’m tired of the same old routine and predictability, I don’t want to bitch to him about ways that he enjoys, will not and cannot change, when I have the vibrators to supplement me very nicely.

I woke up at 109 pounds today and yesterday, but if I don’t wake up over 110 tomorrow, it’ll be a true miracle. I haven’t been over 110 in a while, but I will be for damn sure! (I weigh myself when I get up) They gave everybody treats at work, so I ate several of the little candy bars Tom brought home. I had to have had an easy 2000 calories today. Maybe I’ll take a water pill tomorrow to kind of compensate.

Tom says my lips and the area around them look thinner, but I haven’t noticed.

I wrote letters to Tammy and Paula using the papers with different pictures bordering the tops. These were the pages I was originally gonna use for printing out journal stuff. So, I’ll be using some for Tammy, some for Paula, and some for the freeloaders but unfortunately, none for Andy since I know he’s not going back east. I told him so in a message too. He’s not gonna give up his house and this weather.

I believe that deep down, Andy doesn’t want David cuz of his age. He’s in his 40s. Andy likes boys, not men. He likes college kids. And druggies. David just drinks. Andy would never admit it, but he wants a pothead just like himself. So, if you do pot, cigarettes, and are skinny and youthful-looking, you can be with Andy. Andy doesn’t want a decent man. He wants a drugged-up unstable boy who lives on the edge.

Evie told me news that I expected to get sooner or later and that did not make my day and it only reinforced my hatred towards God. Pam got Jennifer back. I knew she would. Thanks, God. Thanks a real lot, God. You’re such a terrific, empathetic God, who has nothing but love and fairness in his heart, huh? You want to do the right thing, don’t you?

Well, if there even is a God, he sure doesn’t care to win over my love, trust, respect, and faith. And Tom said not in a million years would she get her back. Ha! I knew she would. If they took her away 20 times, then that’s 20 times they’d give her right back.

God, I hate God! I have absolutely no respect for God. I have no faith in him, and I hate his guts. His ways are sick, cruel, and totally wrong. I know he’s gonna punish me for swearing at him and for saying mean things about him, but you know what? I don’t care!

Later...

I can’t believe it’s coming up on 6:30 and not one car has been seen/heard next door. I wonder if the bitch is even there. Did she get sick and tell people to stay away so they wouldn’t get sick too? Nah. She wouldn’t be that considerate. Does this mean they’ll make up for this peace and quiet tomorrow?

Later...

I can tell exactly why it’s been quiet all day. Cuz no one’s there. Now that the sun had set enough, I went and looked, and the living room lights were off. But when did she leave?

Sunday, January 31, 1999

Unbelievable! After all I ate yesterday, I still woke up at 109 pounds. Maybe a big part of why I haven’t been over 110 in a while is because I’ve been quite regular for a while now. Until today. I’ll have to have some bean soup!

Paula left a message asking me to call her back. She sounded like she was in a good mood, too. I guess I’ll go see if I can catch her now while Tom’s taking his nap.

Later...

Luckily, I’m still keeping my record of being regular. I just took a dump.

I called Paula too, and got a message saying, “If you need to get a hold of me, call me at…” So, I called the number. It was her friend Carmen’s, although she answered. She said she was doing laundry over there. She’s also moving again for the millionth time. She and Fran must hold the records for moving the most often! And they both have phones on and off. She’s gonna lose her phone again for a while, I guess, cuz she ran up a big bill. She gave me her PO Box address which she says she’ll have for quite a while cuz of her SS checks (she goes to it every other day). That’s smart. That’s what I should’ve done; gotten a PO Box since I was moving a lot myself. Not nearly as much as her, though!

My allergies are going spastic on me today! I don’t want to deal with them anymore, so I threw my nose clips on. Can’t they fucking go off when I can afford to take a Benadryl?! I can’t be taking a Benadryl in the middle of my day when I have an appointment the next day. It probably wouldn’t throw off my schedule, but I can’t be taking chances. On the other hand, this is a pretty bad allergy attack. The kind that goes on all day. So I may say fuck it and take a Benadryl.

Later...

I just broke down and took a Benadryl. If it fucks my schedule up, it fucks it up. I’m hoping this will be one of those times where it doesn’t knock me out, but right! That’s not the way life works. It’ll knock me out cuz I don’t want it to. If I didn’t care or wanted it to, it might or might not knock me out.

Anyway, Paula says she’s moving cuz her neighbor’s nosy in one breath, and in the next breath, she says she’s moving cuz of that married guy she’s seeing. She’s moving to Main St. in W. Springfield. She says she’s also leaving for Florida on Tuesday and will be gone till the 17th. Her father lives down there. She still says she’s gonna leave Justin with his father and come out here this summer, but we’ll see.

Tom pulled out the old, big washer for hopefully the last time. I washed the comforter I bought and will use that and the one Dureen sent till we move. Then when we move, we’ll have a full-size washer and dryer and I can wash them easily whenever they need it.

Another unbelievable thing is that not once during the weekend so far, did I hear or see a freeloader next door. The bitch must’ve taken off for the weekend, although we’re just entering their PT, so we’ll see. I don’t have a bad vibe, though. I doubt there’ll be a Superbowl scene like last year. You never do know, though, if a white car with little kids in it may pull in at any second and hop out to play ball and talk like everybody’s fucking deaf! It’s nice to know that there are only five hours left of light.

I thought the Super Bowl weekend would bring out lots of bangers, but nope. It’s been pretty good lately. The Super Bowl doesn’t start till 3:00 or 4:00, though. Gloria’s to be singing at it cuz it’s in Miami. I hate sports, though. Gymnastics and skating, I like, but I hate TV in general, cuz it only consists of three things - sports, reruns, and sad news. I still tape movies on the commercial-free channels whenever they have something new every few months or so. I also watch shows about crime cases periodically, too.

Later...

Wow. We got all the way to nearly 3:00 and there’s still not a sight or sound from next door. I can’t believe they’ve been this non-existent during a weekend I was on days.

I’ve been trying to fight off sleep by having two cups of regular coffee and keeping busy, but I’m still pretty woozy. As long as I don’t lay down, except to have our predictable sex when I get Tom up from his nap at 3:00, I should be OK. Just drowsy. My allergies have improved, but not entirely. I still sneeze here and there.

Later...

All weekend long neither of us saw or heard anything next door. However, there is a light on next door now, and I’ve never known her to leave lights on when she goes out, so I’ll check at about 9:00 or so, her typical weekday bedtime, to see if the lights go out. That’ll tell me if someone’s there unless she got the living room light rigged on a timer recently. If she’s been there all weekend, I’d be truly and utterly stunned. How could this bitch, of all people, stay home all weekend? And stay home with no company? She must be really sick in there, but I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like enough of an excuse to stop her from having company and besides, if she were that sick, wouldn’t her cronies be over there nursing her back to health? Maybe she did get contiguously sick, got a touch of consideration for others, and decided to keep people away. Or maybe she fucked over the people she knows one too many times and they got fed up with her.

0 notes