Chambers is on now and Bryant was on last night. She wasn’t snobby, though.

Now that my body’s used to eating so little, except for commissary, my body’s going to see the extra food I eat when I get out as extra calories and I’ll gain weight in no time. I don’t give a shit at this point. All I care about is getting out of here and back to Tom. I’m going to enjoy all the foods I’ve been missing and my coffee. Then someday down the road, if I decide to lose weight again, I will. When I was bitching to Tom before I came here about how much my appetite’s increased over the last few years, he said that maybe it was because I’m a happier person, and this may be true, although I certainly don’t want to be as miserable as I was in the past! Even with this shit that’s going on with me now, my 30s have been way better than my 20s.

I finally figured out a clever way to keep the cardboard from sliding down the pencil that I poked through it and jammed between the vent grill by putting a rubber band on the pencil. I’m surprised Palma and Misery never made us unblock vents.

Woke up tired this morning. At 10 AM it felt like 7 AM. At first I was pissed at Ida because she seemed to be bopping around more than usual, but it was a good time to get up. That way I can fall asleep a little earlier and beat some of the weekday commotions.

According to others, the showers are ice cold today and Chambers says they won’t be fixed till Tuesday. Well, once again, I don’t buy it. There’s nothing to “fix.” They’re fucking with it and it’s obvious. Hot water doesn’t “break” that often. Ida disagrees, saying they don’t have the equipment upgraded enough to handle all the people. Then what’s taking them so long to upgrade it? They have the money. I know that isn’t it and that they’re just playing with us and saving themselves a few bucks while they’re at it. I know they have the hot water turned completely off.

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Chavez is on now. She’s OK. She remembered me and was like, “You’re over here now, huh?”

I told her I’ve been here since New Year’s. She obviously hasn’t worked here in a while.

Someone was banging on the big cell door downstairs. If they’re fighting, that’s their problem. I’m not moving!

Nope, they’re not fighting. This new butch we got in here with this ludicrous hairstyle pitched a fit because she didn’t get her meds. You mean to tell me we got another psych case in here? Great! Just fucking great.

Ida shocked me last night by snoring. It didn’t bother me, but it bothered her to know she snored. From what she told me, her father was a real sicko and he snored, so she can’t stand the sound of snoring because it reminds her of him.

She told me her father would scream at her when she’d fuck up on the piano she was forced to play. I wish that’s all my mother had done to me. When I was between 8-10 she had me playing the piano too, and when I’d fuck up, she’d hold my hand down on a nearby table with one hand and beat it with the other. I’m amazed she never broke any bones. And she’d always do the left hand so I could do my schoolwork with the right. How considerate of the bitch, huh? I’m surprised I bothered taking up the guitar in my teens and keyboards in my 20s. I played the flute for a while when I was 10, but I hated the damn thing.

I teased her about making her put her hands on the wall and frisking her if she comes to visit, and she said she’d say – where are those verdammden ratten (damn rats)?! She hates rats and mice. She doesn’t mind snakes, though. Her sons had them. She and her sons would pick snakes up off the streets in CA, where they have a summer home.

Just had corndogs for dinner and rice instead of potatoes, which is a nice change.

By outward appearances, Mary’s happy next door. However, Ida and I talked to her today and she’s anything but happy. First she was sick, then she was cursed with Melinda, and now Maria’s hard to deal with. I guess she has the hots for her and has been pinching her ass. So, I’m going to fight like hell to get her in here when Ida leaves, but she’ll have to settle for the lower bunk. She’s afraid the DOs are going to keep her in there forever, though, in a big cell because she gets along with just about everyone, unlike me. Well, I did vibe I’d never be with Mary again, once Pancake Face Smith pulled her.

Ida was telling me we ought to start saving $20 a month, or whatever we can afford and put it in stocks and bonds so we can have at least $100,000 in 20 years.

I started doing notes on the concrete shelf and the ceiling. The part of the shelf the mattress doesn’t cover, anyway. It’s better than using scrap paper and they’re written in ways only I can understand. People will be like – what the hell?

I think I have a cavity forming in front (what else is new?) and I know I’m going to have a whole mouthful of cavities when I get out, so I’ll have Tom schedule an appointment before I get out so I don’t have to wait too long.

Zapata got into it with someone else downstairs. I think it was the new butch she got into a brawl with that she probably saw as a rival, so Nancy D, this bitch that hits on every inmate she sees, including myself, replaced her. At first she reacted like I did when they threw me in the big tank and was screaming that she was not going in there and that she wanted to go back to A, but Chavez threw her in there anyway, threatening to kick her ass herself if she didn’t stop banging. Of course, if it was the other way around and an inmate threatened a DO, they couldn’t get away with it. It’s only OK for DOs to make threats against us.

Ida was the least serious I’d ever seen her, dancing around, laughing, etc. Her reaction to one of my jokes was hilarious. At her age, your bladder tends to weaken and the joke was so funny to her that she had to stifle her laughter and run to the toilet to pee. It was pretty funny. Imagine getting so old you can’t laugh without peeing in your pants! I’ll definitely have to kill myself at that point!

It was also kind of funny when Chavez came in to let the nurse give Ida her shit pill and she goes, “Miss S, what are you doing standing on the desk where you could fall and get hurt?”

I had been in the process of climbing up to my bunk but had paused on the desk to say something to Ida. What did she think I was doing up there anyway? Pretending to be tall? Learning to fly? Doesn’t she know people use the desks to climb up and down?