Ida read some of my journals and thought it was funny. I was like – I’m writing about life in jail and you’re laughing?

She said it wasn’t so much what I was writing about that was funny, so much as it was how I was saying it, and that I’m a very good writer.

Yeah, look where it got me.

She says I’ve really got a way with words and am hysterical at times when I pitch a fit.

Yeah, I’m a real riot.

She says I’m more like a rebellious teen than anything else, and that to her, I’m more like a girl than a woman.

“That’s only because you’re old,” I told her.

Jail is one place where things are done differently. Where apples are sliced with ID cards, kiwis are peeled with spoons, and people keep their ears pierced with teeth from combs. Ida has comb teeth in her ears right now.

This time around I grieved the cold showers directly to the jail commander, and when this doesn’t work, I’ll go a step further.

---

Garcia let me swap mattresses with a spare one next door. I had one that wasn’t too much better than the one Kahn let me swap for. The old green ones suck, but now I have a newer tan one. The thing about it is that she let me do this after being a bitch to Ida and others. I’ve now seen 4 or 5 DOs be rude to Ida for no apparent reason. There’s no doubt that I am receiving special treatment from most of these DOs. Even Ida noticed it. Why, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because my case is so different and so stupid. It’s just the opposite with Christoffers, though. She’s nice to everyone else but me.

Can’t wait to see Tom tomorrow and get my commissary tonight!

---

Commissary came unusually early today, but that’s only because some stupid-ass DO had to fuck us all up. I don’t know if it was pure stupidity or a genuine error, but when the juvi pod received full restriction, some DO listed the whole damn dorm as being on restriction. All we got was our hygiene. No food or batteries. Melinda said she’d loan me a pair, but hopefully I won’t need them. They just might correct their mistake for a change and give us the rest of our stuff tonight or tomorrow. This is only because they’d lose money if they didn’t, but that’s OK. I’m used to people’s number one concern being their jobs and money. That’s all people fucking care about.

We were all bitching about it through the vents (this cell is also vented to the two downstairs as well as the one next door). I even grieved, saying that it’s too bad that when we make a mistake, it’s inexcusable, while those who work here can make all the mistakes they want and we have to just live with it.

I pay for my mistakes, I pay for others’ mistakes. That’s how it’s always been for me.

Right now they’re blaming each other. The DOs say it’s commissary’s fault, and commissary, with their room temperature IQs, says a DO fucked up. I just want my fucking stuff regardless of who fucked up, OK?! Arajo, who we’re cursed with again tonight, says we’ll get it Wednesday because that’s when they have to come back for the tents, anyway.

I still like Ida, but sometimes I just wish she’d shut the fuck up and sit still! She’s running at the mouth non-stop when I first get up which I can’t stand, and when I’m rocking out she’s right there in my face, pacing just a few inches below my nose.

Why is God forcing me to be everything I’m not? Everything I hated or tried to avoid is now being thrown at me left and right. I just want to go home and live like a fucking hermit, goddamn it! I’m not sociable, I’m not a people person, and I don’t like being forced to be one. She’s either pacing or fidgeting at the desk. The only time she’s still, quiet and out of sight from my bed, is when she’s on hers reading and that’s only 10% of the time. The woman hardly ever sleeps and I’d like to hang her by her clothes from the sprinkler on the wall right now!

We’ve been having these debates over diet and exercise. The old woman here seems to think cellulite is fat.

“No, it’s not,” I told her. “I was twice as big as I am now in my 20s and I didn’t have the craters in my thighs and ass that I have now. It’s age.”

“Well, what you said about exercise and weight loss is ridiculous.”

“No, it isn’t. I know from personal experience, along with common sense, which you’re too senile to have at times. Exercising does not burn calories or fat. All it does is tone you up. If you want to lose fat and inches you have to not eat.”

“You can have around 1000 calories a day and still lose weight,” said Ida.

“Yeah, but 1000 calories – that’s nothing. You may as well starve and lose it faster. I’d just recommend taking a multivitamin along the way and drinking lots of water.”

We also argued over those who say they’re more/less fertile. “There’s no such thing,” I insisted. “You’re either fertile or you’re not. As long as you have all the parts and they all work right and you have periods, you’re just as fertile at 50 as you are at 20.”