When I see Tom Tuesday, I’ll have to remind him to call and cancel my dentist appointment that was to be on the 21st (the fucking freeloaders even control my teeth!), not that they won’t be expecting the call. Somebody there has to have heard about this shit.

Tina suggested I have Tom check into something called rule 32 time cut, but I’m sure it’ll be just another dead end.

Another thing is, she says the probation department’s main concern is the fees, and that the sooner you pay your fees, the sooner they’ll let you go. That, I find hard to believe, but it’s another thing I’ll mention to Tom.

It’s almost 9:00 and Tina’s getting ready to go to bed. Rosa and I will be up late.

We were looking through magazines and I found a cute picture of a squirrel. Well, Rosa found it for me. I’ll send it home to scan into the computer when I get home.

The first half of the day, which had to be while I was trying to sleep, was noisy. The black bitches were screaming their asses off. You got these bitches standing 5 feet apart, yet they still yell at the top of their lungs as if they were yards and yards apart or deafer than a doorknob. Crazy next door went Bunk-banging a few times, too.

I’m sick of having our hour out so damn early. Most of the time we have it between 7 – 9 AM. Can’t we have it in the afternoons or evenings for a change? We rarely ever do.

I’m still learning more Spanish words. My vocabulary is good, but my grammar needs work. I understand Rosa for the most part, but sometimes I have to have her speak slower, or write. Sometimes I can’t figure out what a certain word means, since I know most, but not all Spanish words, and it’s pretty challenging because I can’t ask her in English what a word means.

The Spanish alphabet isn’t pronounced like it is in English, so when I spell English words to Rosa, I have to say the letters so she can understand them.

Palma’s on tonight and her hair looks great. She has it in two French braids with her bangs pulled down in front. I like her better with bangs, rather than with her hair swept back off her forehead. She’s quite a looker! Rosa and Tina tease me about liking her (in a good-natured way, of course). Tina’s bi and Rosa’s straight.

I told Nottelmann the Santa joke Tina told me. Trying hard to suppress a laugh, she softly mumbled, “That’s wrong,” and walked off, making sure to keep a professional air about her. Hopefully, she repeated the joke to Palma. She probably did.

Tina says she’ll send a letter to our PO Box whenever she gets to the tents (she thinks she’ll end up there) to let me know if Rule’s still there. She may get there before I leave, so Tom will have to read the letter to me over the phone since inmates can’t write to each other. From what I gather, Rule’s been there since at least ‘96. I think she’ll be there between now and April so I can send her a thank you note when I get out.

I was absolutely dumbfounded to learn that commissary credited back the money for the order I never got on my birthday! I really didn’t think they’d own up to their mistake no matter how obvious it was.

With the exception of Tina, who wanted to hear my whole life story, I decided that when people ask, I’m just going to say I’m an only child whose parents were killed in a car crash. I’m sick of hearing how “fucked up” it is that I don’t talk to my folks when in truth it’d be fucked up if I did. Why would I want to associate with such mean, vindictive control freaks who’ve done nothing but lie to me and let me down, just because they created me? I don’t owe these people here, or anyone else for that matter, any explanations as to why I don’t talk to them. A lot of people just don’t get it. If they’ve got good, loving parents, they can’t understand. Madeline, who felt the need to lie to her mother and tell her she wanted an abortion when she really didn’t – now that’s fucked up. If you can’t be yourself and be honest with someone – that’s fucked up.

All’s quiet at the moment, but sometimes, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was in a psych hospital and not a jail.