Still not caught up on my sleep. This is the third day where I slept shitty and am tired. Maybe I can catch up tonight, but I won’t hold my breath. I want to get caught up before another celly who can’t shut up comes in to distract me, but I’ll explain what I mean by that one in a minute.

Anyway, the night Johnson was on, we joked and talked as usual. At one point I decided it was time to find out if Deanna and Teresa could be right, so I decided to do a little flirting with her. I was exercising and had my shirt off. I just had my bra and pants on. On the other hand, this isn’t all that unusual around here. Girls hang out in their cells in just their bras all the time. Some don’t even bother with the pants and just wear the cotton granny panties they have that have enough material to cover a car with (I miss skimpy satiny panties you could floss your teeth with).

Anyway, while I was jogging, Johnson came in to collect trash. She didn’t see me at first because she had her head turned toward someone in 1 that she was talking to. When she did see me, she blushed and quickly looked away for a second. It was rather hilarious, actually, seeing her face turn as red as her hair! I said I was sorry for embarrassing her and she said, “No problem. I’ve seen people in their underwear before.” Meanwhile, the elastic was stretched out on part of the bra and she called for another one for me. “What are you? A small?” she asked me.

“No, these are mediums, believe it or not,” I said.

Deanna and Teresa were obviously wrong, though. She couldn’t be attracted to me. Why would she blush like that if she was? This was an uncomfortable kind of blush, I think. Maybe I ought to back off.

When I was rolled up and ready to move from 2 up to 3, Palma, without saying a word, came in to get Silvia and gave me the meanest, most evil look that shocked the shit out of me. I was like – what the fuck did I do?!

I heard her ask Johnson if I was rolled up. I thought that was a weird question since I wasn’t going to A Tower with her. I later asked Johnson about this hateful glare I received, but she said not to worry about it and that she just had that evil look.

Yeah, well I’ll be treating Palma the same way I treated Christoffers by giving her a taste of her own meds. I respect those who respect me and I snob those who snob me. I’ve always believed in treating people like I want to be treated, yet treating people like they treat me, too. Palma can go fuck herself. Besides, I like Johnson better and she’s getting better looking by the minute, too. I’ve always been attracted to Johnson, but it seems to be growing lately. It’s like each time she’s on, my attraction’s intensified a bit more. I tried to will it away and tell myself – she’s not your type. You like dark. Not black dark because that’s getting a little too dark, but Palma-dark with the bronze skin, ebony eyes, and jet black hair.

It didn’t work. There’s just something about this redhead and her vibrant personality that turns me right on. She really went out of her way for me, and the more I get to know her, the more I like her and am attracted to her.

After I got settled in 3, I teased Johnson about her blushing. She admitted she was shy after I explained to her that because I’m not, I sometimes forget others sometimes are. I told her I had been an exotic dancer at one time.

She said she was sorry my “Victoria’s Secret” didn’t arrive, but she ordered it. She said not to have any nightmares or wacky dreams, either. We were laughing about that for a few, then she left for the night.

I told her about the dream I had about running into her in a grocery store and how we gave each other a big hug. (that one made her smile) Then, when I stepped back and glanced away for a second before looking back at her, she’d turned into Mena!

I was telling her how I was sick of being hit on by these skanky cellies I’ve been getting at times, and she said, “That’d make you uncomfortable, huh?”

Yeah, they’re just not as good-looking as you are.

“Yeah, kind of.”

I’ve been hit on more in this jail than in any bar I’ve been to in my 20s, and you’d think I’d be in heaven for a woman who likes women, but I’m not the least bit flattered by what’s hit on me here.

Kahn worked yesterday and was as sweet as could be. I really thought she was going to spite me.

I gave Sharon a lemon drop Monday night saying, “You didn’t really tell Johnson you like lemon drops like she told me you did, did you?” (I had offered them to Johnson, but she doesn’t like lemon) Anyway, I keep them for Sharon and any beggars I may get in here.

I gave some to Jamie, the one thing Kahn did sic on me that wasn’t very nice. She stuck me with this obnoxious 18-year-old who couldn’t shut up. She was rather delusional too, saying that she had demons pinning her down to her bed at times (she should have them pin Johnson on me).

Jamie was pretty with a nice smile and wavy brown hair to the middle of her back. She was of average height and weight. Her only drawback was her evil-looking gray eyes.

I was so glad to hear her express interest in being in a big cell, so I got Dixon to move her the following day. Kahn wouldn’t go for it, so I asked Dixon, who was hesitant at first, saying she didn’t like to move people. We even had Jamie splash a few drops of water on her face to make it look like she’d been crying over feeling claustrophobic in here.

Teresa, believe it or not, is back in 2. That’s because she and that Spanish lady are friends and she knows no English.

The older lady in 5, whose name is Mattie, has been alone for 2-3 weeks. Why can’t I be alone for the next 2-3 weeks?! Why can’t they put people in with her for a change? Kahn probably thought Jamie and I would be a good match, judging by our appearance and by us being closer in age. Both of us had our hair in pigtails, too. I told Fisher that if someone comes into Ad-Seg tonight – I don’t want them!

She laughed.

Am I really that amusing?

It’s 90° out. Hearing that shit is depressing, but at least it’s warmer up here on the upper tier. I’m just sooo beat. God, I hope I get caught up on my sleep!

Although my bad vibes about having to change careers all for something I’m supposed to have written are fading a bit, I still dread meeting the PO. On the other hand, I’m starting to pick up vibes about a home job, other than homemaking/farming. I don’t know what it could be, though. It’s not that I don’t want to work other than as a homemaker, I just can’t work out of the house due to my lack of transportation and the way I clash with people. It just really pisses me off when the courts try to force “standard” rules on people. Well, I’m not your fucking standard person, OK? Everybody’s different.

This world is so fucked up. Sometimes I really hate life and the people in it. It’s OK for newspapers to write lies about people they don’t even know, but I can’t privately send a piece of my mind to the people who harassed us for years like I did with the journal excerpts. What’s scary is that anything can be legally perceived as a threat. I can write to someone saying that their house is an ugly color and all they have to do is say that they see that as a threat, and then I’m fucked right there.

The bulk of my life has been miserable and it always will be, no matter where I go or what I do. There’s no sense in trying to kid myself on that one. The question is – when am I going to get fed up enough to end it all? I’m such a sucker to go on living in this crazy world!