(no subject)

Overnight we finally got that good storm they have been promising for a while. Our lawn needed it, especially that back patch with the new grass. That grass actually was sticking, and these rains should help nail that down.

The electricity apparently went out for a while, judging by the blinking clock on the stove. I always liked to let Arthudo fix that. I can stop it from blinking, but I cannot remember how to set the time.

Rainy weather really is more reflective weather, like there is something that is both more earthy and more spiritual about it. I can feel Arthudo more this morning, almost as if I can really see and hear him.

(no subject)

I am enjoying my rainy Sunday morning on "Magic Mountain". During a reading break, I decided to take out the gun. It does not feel the least natural to me, and I am afraid that I will not be able to use it - really afraid. What will I do? I cannot begin to imagine trying to survive on the streets. Where does that leave me? I don't know. For now, I am just going to return to my novel.

(no subject)

Some of my worst fears are being realized. Not with regard to Arthudo and his health. But about Jack and any power-plays he might try to make. He, Jill, and Paulo drive up in two cars. As I watch them walk up, I am wondering if Paulo might actually be Carlos, but it's not. Paulo is bald now. I don't think Carlos is bald, but he might be.

I meet them at the front door. I asked, "What are you doing?" Jack plays it casual, saying that he wants to update me, as he tries to open the front door, which I had locked. I told him, "I'm not taking guests." Jack is upset, but he isn't yelling or violent. Though, I swear I can see Teri's psychotic eyes in him, when she had taken herself off her medication. I said, "I know you don't respect me, and I'm afraid you might try to take over the house. So, I'm not taking guests." I also said that "Lorie" is giving me updates. In the heat of such moments, I tend to use journal names rather than real names. They actually just leave, but Jack and Jill are in a huff about it. I wish I could be certain that they won't try again, perhaps more aggressively.

They might even try it with the law, claiming that they have a right to be in the house. I am now carrying my wallet, so that I can be ready to present my ID, which also has this address on it, whereas their IDs do not. However, it is that glazed look in his eyes that really has me worried. He might act irrationally, making almost anything possible.

The big question in my mind - to which I will probably never get an answer - is what was their intention. Were they really set to just talk to me for five or ten minutes and then leave? Or were they planning on loading up on whatever they can grab and telling me to fuck off? Were they possibly hoping to set up a kind of second home here, at least until Arthudo's health crisis is resolved one way or the other? I am afraid that this is still a developing story.

One of the funnier things about this is the timing. If they had come ten, fifteen minutes later, I would have been caught with my pants down, answering the door all sweaty and flustered. I was looking for a movie to watch and caught the opening rape scene of "Era el Cielo". That put me in the mood for the hard stuff. I had just opened my laptop and was getting ready to log in when I saw the two cars pull in. Talk about a mood-killer. It's just as well, I've been wanking hard everyday. I need to lay off, which is not something I can do on my own. So, I guess they unwittingly did me a favor, so long as this conflict doesn't escalate.

(no subject)

Taking out the trash and collecting the mail and newspaper, I started thinking it might be worthwhile to read the paper myself. Reading the local newspaper is another one of things that I haven't done in a good ten years. Considering how these could be the last days, I thought it might be nice to touch base with local affairs. One of the prompts, I think, was that I recently came upon ad an for our mayor, and it was some guy I never heard of. I was surprised he wasn't Hispanic. I was reminded then of how aloof I have been to anything going on around me.

But I changed my mind. It would take away time from my heart-books, and I'm ready to begin "1984", breaking in my new hardcover edition. I am more at home in Oceania, tagging along with Winston.

(no subject)

As the day starts darkening into evening, I am feeling highly nervous, even a little nauseous. I am afraid that Jack might be working himself up to a big drunk, in order to get the nerve to do something wild.