God, I’m so sick of the same fucking bag lunch day after day – disgusting slices of meat, 2 pieces of bread, and kiwi or a cucumber. I just drink the juice and eat the snack, which is usually a small bag of cookies or crackers.

Lunch and breakfast are served on trays. This morning’s breakfast was barely edible – cold, hard-as-rock waffles. I ate a little of the melon and even some sausage. I don’t like sausage all that much, but I was hungry. We got chocolate milk instead of regular milk, but I only had a little of the milk. It’ll play on my stomach if I have too much.

After thinking about it some more (I’m the curious type), I wonder why Nottelmann didn’t put the white girl in with either myself or next door. Why did they move her out of M altogether?

Damn these fucking beggars! Deanna came over to thank me for the gross lunch meat I slipped under her door, then she asks to borrow my mascara. I can’t find it, I told her. Then Lora slips a spoon under the door for some hair protein. I gave her some, then I let her know she wasn’t getting any more. If I lend my shit out all the time, I’ll never have anything left for myself. Even alone they bother me! I may end up giving away my conditioner, though, because the shit’s so heavy.

Well, I made it through a month here with no write-ups or fights. There may have been a fight between me and Lora or me and Madeline if I hadn’t been moved, though. And I wouldn’t have gone any easier on Madeline just because she’s pregnant. If you’re dumb enough to get in a fight while pregnant, you should accept the possible risks involved. I wouldn’t have been the one to swing first, either. That’s a new charge – assault. Although with my shit luck, no one would’ve believed me, and I’d have been the one to go down. I’m always the one to take the fall while others get away with shit! That’s why I’m in here. It’s so humiliating, too. It’s as unfair as it would be if someone got raped, then went to jail while their attacker went free.

That tongue-clucking fucking dude Madeline went to court at 2 AM. I was surprised to learn they get you up and ready for court in the middle of the night here. She still isn’t back yet and it’s now 2 PM.

Today’s DO, whatever her name is, isn’t too cool. She won’t even sharpen my pencils. Isn’t that her job? Or do some DOs expect us to do it on our hour out? They’re the only ones who have access to the sharpeners, along with trustees, but there are no trustees in M taking care of people on their hour out. At least she didn’t let me sleep through this morning’s bras, panties and towel exchange with her loud mouth. Tomorrow’s stripes and sheet exchange, but they don’t do thermals inside.

A freckled-face black DO on last night is actually pretty friendly. She caught me teary-eyed from homesickness, asked what was wrong, and we chatted a bit.

Black Johnson’s on now. She sharpened a couple of pencils for me (without breaking them). This Johnson’s pretty ugly. She’s short and fat with squinted-like eyes. She’s neither cool nor uncool. She’s just Johnson. There’s no comparison between the two Johnsons when it comes to looks, though!

Miller walked by earlier. She started to walk past my door, then she stopped and asked, “So, how are we doing today?”

This is when I apologized to her for grieving her over such petty BS. Lora was nagging the hell out of me to grieve her when I should’ve had a backbone of my own and not done anything I didn’t really want to do.

The showers were lukewarm today. I hope this doesn’t mean they’re on their way toward being freezing cold.

I both like and do not like the fact that the same DOs only work here once every one to several weeks. The good in it is that you don’t have to deal with the same ones day after day that you don’t like, but the bad side of it is that you don’t see the good ones often enough. From what I hear, the DOs don’t know where they’ll be assigned to work till they come in for work.

Kim said Nottelmann recently turned 20. You mean I’ve been babysat by someone 15 years younger than me? Damn!

Nottelmann’s about average height, thin, with blondish hair and light eyes.

Chambers is pretty much the same, only she’s a major zit face, the poor thing.

Rule was slightly plump and kind of short with dark hair, though I can’t remember the eye color.

Just had what was the best jailhouse dinner yet, aside from that Thanksgiving dinner. We had chicken on the bone. It wasn’t cold and tasted almost as good as KFC. With it was corn on the cob, mashed potatoes and coleslaw.

What a twisted black bitch. She came and asked me why I didn’t have a roommate and now she’s screaming in the day room that she can’t stand it here because it’s too quiet and she wants to go back to A. Then why’d the fucking black bitch go and run her celly out if she’s so lonely and in need of noise? Typical, typical black – it’s too quiet here. Yeah, it would be too quiet for you, wouldn’t it be?

Now the bitch’s in her cell, screaming and slugging the door. If she wants to go back to black-loud A Tower, all she has to do is make like she’s going to attack someone.

One of the juvies just called over here from next door, but I just ignored them. I don’t like to talk with people. I’m simply not a people person. I have to be really damn impressed with someone to want to chat with them for more than just a few minutes, and that’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing for me.

Why did they move Tara just because they moved the other girl? I wonder if she’s coming back here or if she’s in D2 or A or B tower? B’s where Loretta Greer is. She killed her two kids and has been here 6 years fighting her case.

I didn’t think I’d ever take a dump two days in a row while being in this place (I’m sure not having a celly, even if they have the decency to turn away, has something to do with it).

Assuming I heard right, that black bitch tried to get in here with me and Johnson told her I wanted to be in here by myself.

Cool. But how did she know I’d prefer to be alone?