Ida really pissed me the fuck off last night and today. Otherwise, I still like her and hope to stay with her till she leaves, unless she starts going out of her way to wake me up. I doubt she will, though, because she values her own sleep. I already let her know she’d lose her sleep if I lost mine.

Anyway, ever since we’ve celled together, we’ve been arguing over the vent setup. She wants it more open because she likes a lot of air circulation. Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off up on my bunk, getting a direct icy draft. But whenever I block some of the airflow and try to redirect it away from me, she whines and bitches.

This morning I got fed up, and out of sheer exasperation said I’d break her hand if she moved the cardboard I had in it. So she went crying to Espi (Espinoza) that I threatened her, telling her to “move this kid who’s nothing but a defensive little bully with a psychotic laugh.”

I told Espi I wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t literally intend to harm a 60-year-old arthritic woman. I simply said what I said out of frustration. Espi said she wouldn’t move anyone but made me take down the cardboard, nonetheless.

Ida was all hysterical and saying shit like, “She’s crazy! She told me herself she was a ward of the state and was in a funny farm in New Hampshire.”

“Vermont,” I corrected her.

“Believe me,” Ida says, “she’s not always as sweet as she looks.”

“Sugar and spice, but only some things nice,” I told Espi, who was trying not to laugh and make Ida think she wasn’t taking her seriously.

Then Ida goes on to say that I swear too much and ought to work on that.

“Shit! That’s what I’ve been meaning to do!” I said.

So now Little Miss Spoiled has gotten her way yet again, but come 2nd shift, I’ll just block the vent again. I don’t think she will, but if this old fart smacks herself and says I did it, I will smack her!

All this over a fucking vent! And she can’t just drop it and move on, either. I thought I held grudges! If any good has come out of it, it’s that this has shut her up. No more running at the mouth non-stop. She won’t say a word to me. She won’t even look at me.

Then I got pissed at Mary and Myra for not minding their own business, yelling through the vents to leave Ida alone because they like her. Of course they like her. Especially Myra. Ida feeds the fat pig left and right. Anyway, I told them to butt out and let us fight our own battles (along with informing Ida that Myra, who I know is guilty of being the child molester and abuser she’s charged with being, is only using her).

Meanwhile, I’ve been living up to my “crazy” label she’s stuck me with, playing with her head, laughing suddenly for no apparent reason (making sure my laugh is psychotic enough for her), and answering questions she never asked.

I finally figured out the perfect prank to pull on her, too. Before, I couldn’t figure out very creative pranks, and as Ida agreed, you can’t do much in a jail cell. But I finally did something better than putting orange peels in her bed and pencils in her shoes. I randomly turned to a page in my book and scribbled down a few sentences from it on a piece of paper. Then I told her that someone who I didn’t see slipped it under the door while she was at her legal visit.

She’s quite confused. Perhaps I’ll spill the beans in a few days.

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I blocked 75% of the vent, but it’s still freezing in here. That’s what happens when assholes run an AC in 34-degree weather.

I now have 100 days left. Before Ida decided to give me the silent treatment, she urged me to file a motion for a sentence reduction, saying I have nothing to lose, but I don’t know. I’d have to send a copy to the county attorney, as well as to the monster judge who gave me my outrageous sentence in the first place. That ruthless bastard ain’t about to reason with me. Tom told me he blames the judge too, because common sense would’ve said he knew I was being framed. He said he resents anyone in the system who just ignores corruption and agrees I can’t be the only one this has happened to.

Everything’s about money, power and control. It’s like the judges are queen bees and the pigs and lawyers are their drones. I can just imagine how God-like those judges must feel holding the fate of one stranger after another in their hands, knowing they can make them or break them.

Tom thinks that reminding them that my sentence is too harsh, period, and that I’ve “behaved” since being here will help, but I disagree. I know I’ll be here till 4/29. I saw it in my dreams. But why? Why is this happening to me??? I just don’t see what the reason is other than because something up there wants to hurt me. Even if I’d written “I’m going to kill you” a million times, and even if she was as innocent as she pretended to be, the sentence I got was still completely insane.

I got fed up with our rude nurse this morning. Everyone got on my bad side today! While Ida was at her visit and I was sound asleep, the fucking bitch knocked really loud on the door (I nearly went through the ceiling) asking if I were OK.

“No, I’m not OK when you startle me out of a sound sleep,” I told her.

“Then go home,” the bitch had the nerve to say.

What a stupid, asinine thing to say! Like I choose to be here?! So, as much as I know it’s useless since they all protect their own like pigs do, I grieved to medical. Normally, Ida’s up and at the door to shoo them away, but now that she hates me, I don’t know if she will.

Got a different response this time on one of my grievances about the cold water. Now they’re claiming the water temp has always been the same and that the problem is getting it through the “loop,” and that it has to go through 4 dorms before this one. I still don’t buy it, though. We suffered the same cold water in A and A’s nowhere near here. It wouldn’t take even the dumbest person this long to figure out the problem, but there is no “problem.” Each dorm, maybe even each pod, has its own water tank, and the problem is them. It’s them punishing us and saving a buck in the meantime. I can’t believe they’re stupid enough to think I’m stupid enough to believe a word of their lame excuses, and why did they wait this long to pull this one on me anyway?

Some older woman with a neck brace I’ve never seen before moved in with Melinda.

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Ida is being one major stubborn, selfish, spoiled, immature, childish little brat. The old biddy just won’t let bygones be bygones. What happened should be done and over with by now, and she shouldn’t be doing childish things like dumping the juice she normally gives me in the toilet. I swear, she’s a child living in a 60-year-old body! Is she trying to force me to slug her so I can get in trouble? She said she hopes I do. Well, I’m not about to give her the satisfaction, believe me. Meanwhile, I totally look down upon her now. I’ve lost any respect I may’ve once had for her.

Just took my vitamins. There are 5 pills in all. They’re horse pills, too!

It’s nice not having Melinda next door. That way she’s no longer screaming through the vent. Only Myra and her nosy friend do. If Ruby told me the truth, Myra’s here for letting her boyfriend talk her into having her kids go down on her. Totally sick!!! Yeah, I’m in here with a lot of perverts. Perverts who tell me to respect my elders, even if they don’t respect me in return. I don’t respect my elders. I respect those who respect me.

I took down the rose picture and taped it to the back of my spare tablet because I know I can forget about counting on Ida to alert me if Misery’s on.

I’m so fucking tired and homesick! Damn the fucking freeloaders who put me here – damn them! Oh, I don’t even want to think about it, or else I’ll be fuming like hell.

I just had a good long cry. Gibb asked me if I was OK when she was talking to Ida who wanted to see the sergeant for “several things,” myself included, I’m sure. I let Gibb know I was OK, but I just want out!!!!! How am I going to survive another 3 months of this shit??? When I do get a good celly, they either turn bad or one of us is moved.