Our hot showers are officially over for now. I knew it wouldn’t last long. Well, I’ll just have to have Tom get on with sending me the info for where I can file a formal complaint or get someone in here to check things out.

Just when Ida thought the courts were going to ignore her motion to modify her sentence, she gets pulled at 2:00 AM to go to court. She’s got to go to Mesa, so it’s to be a long trek for her. If her motion is granted, she said she’ll help me and will contact Tom. As much as I’m anxious for her to return and tell me all that happened, I loved having the room to myself this morning. I slept from 4:00 - 11:30 with only 3 interruptions, then awoke to find Chambers on duty. It’s about time!

Maria, who calls me Little One like so many others have, wasn’t pleased to find Julia back when she returned from court, but I guess they’re surviving. Maria’s your typical inmate who’s here because of drugs. Because she lied to me twice, there’s no saying whether or not I’d have been able to sleep with her around. I told her up front the two things I hate most – when cellies won’t let me sleep, and when they beg for my commissary. She told me she didn’t care about commissary, yet she begged anyway. She also told me she hardly talks, but she could’ve fooled me! Her voice was so loud and all she talked about God and drugs. Ida told me that Julia, who’s very hard of hearing, bought a radio to drown out Maria’s noise. So, I wasn’t with her long enough to know just how it really would’ve been being with her, but I doubt it would’ve been pleasant.

Ida said she could’ve kicked herself for not taking her own advice which was: Better to stay with the devil you do know, rather than the one you don’t.

Julia, this seemingly sweet old lady, turned out to be the celly from hell for poor Ida. She lied too, telling Ida she didn’t snore. Although she’s truly hard of hearing, she’s not as helpless as she led us to believe. She’s just lazy. She’s in for writing prescriptions. She has a brace around her neck and Ida was even kind enough to give her her bed and put up with climbing up to the top bunk.

She said that as disastrous as it was, she learned a lesson – that I was real. She had thought I was full of it when I said I could feel the air up there if it wasn’t deflected downward, but she learned that I wasn’t kidding.

Also, she was always like, oh, get a grip! when I’d bitch about all the things that’d wake me up. Well, Ida got a taste of what it was like to have her sleep interrupted time and time again. First, Julia’s meds arrived at 2:00 AM, an ungodly hour for Ida. Then at 4:00, she had to go get her blood pressure taken.

Around 9:00, Dixon woke me up to ask why I moved. I told her I offered to move so Ida could have someone her own age and on her own schedule. She told me Ida wanted her lower bunk back and was going to roll her next door.

“Good luck,” I told her, “because she won’t go in a big cell any more than I will.”

“This is jail,” she said. “You guys never should’ve switched.”

I told her I’d go back if I had to and she said I didn’t have to. Then she came back and asked if I’d move back but with Julia. I didn’t want to be with Julia because Maria said she was noisy, always flushing the toilet and running water, which Ida later confirmed she did (she’s only truthful about others). So I told Dixon I felt Julia and I should swap back. I wanted to swap back for the sake of saving Ida from either a big cell or having to go to A Tower and to save myself from finding out if Maria and I were really compatible or not. So back I went, with Ida swearing she’d be as quiet as a mouse (mice aren’t always that quiet), but as tired as I was, I couldn’t go back to sleep because Ida and I were too busy laughing about the whole thing. She knows I’ll never let her live this one down.

Ida and I have really turned out to be good pals. Ida’s shocked to have gotten attached to me of all people, the very one who threatened her (I’ll always feel bad about that one). As she said – sometimes it’s those you least expect who end up being those we like and care for best.

Maria and Julia have finally separated. Julia moved down to the big cell. The spitter moved up to 3, and Maria moved next door. Why didn’t Maria stay in 3? She’s pals with the spitter. She’s too loud to have next door with a vent connecting us. She told me she doesn’t get along with anyone, so I don’t see how she’ll be able to cut it over there. She said big cells drive her crazy, too.

Tom visited and I told him all about when Palma worked and about Ida’s and my brief separation. I felt like I was being selfish by rambling on, but he said it was OK and listened patiently.

He said Mary and Dave are going to Laughlin at the end of February, and Houdini’s grounded again for refusing to go home. He hid out for quite a while. Tom said he had no idea where he was till he suddenly reappeared, and had even looked outside for him. He probably hid up inside the couch, or maybe in either his office or the guest room closet.

I’m having Tom print out and mail me some jokes I have on the computer.

It’s around 1:00 or 2:00 and Ida’s still not back yet. Because she went to Mesa, and because she wasn’t scheduled till the afternoon, she probably won’t be back till dinner time.

What an airhead! Chambers said she’d bring me nail clippers but never did. Bunch is on now. She’s bringing them to me, along with sharpening a few pencils for me.

The spitter’s all alone in 3 because of medical problems. I don’t know what they are, though.

Ida ought to be back soon. I hope for her sake she gets out early. That’d also give me a little hope as far as doing my own motion. However, the longer we’re cellies, the better because I just don’t know what I’m in for next. I would have to guess that the odds of her getting her motion granted are next to nil, judging by the statistics, though I don’t know a damn thing about her case. I’m sure it’s quite different than mine and I’d probably be stupid to file a motion, regardless of what happens to her because I’m the wrong color. Also, Ida has no “victim” in her case.

Kahn’s a strange one. She’s sneaky, in a way. She wouldn’t even tell me where I was going when she moved me in with Ida till she actually did it. For some reason, it had to be some big secret. Ida told me she was being secretive when she came up the stairs with my visitation slip, hiding it behind her back. She said, “OK, girlie,” when she came to get me for my visit.

Girlie? That’s a new one.

I asked and she told me Alpha can hold up to 30 people. Definitely the smallest dorm in the jail and this is definitely the smallest pod in the jail. This and the juvi pod. The towers and other dorms can hold 120-128 people, but M only holds 58 altogether. That’s quite a difference. And of course, there are about 300 in the tents. I’m just glad I’m in a cell and not a dorm or a tent!

Kahn says she’s worked here for a long time. I told her I wouldn’t name names, but someone told me she was a bitch when I first saw her (she laughed at that), and that after I met her, I told the person (Mary) that I disagreed. She admitted she could be a bitch, though. Can’t we all!

Hann was doing escort yesterday and was like, “Oh, it’s you!” like she was glad to see me or something. She had an amused smile on her face for some reason. I told my latest joke to both her and Kahn and they thought it was a good one.

McDurmont was pretty funny yesterday after my visit. She came around to where I was waiting to be picked up after Tom left, and I asked her who the escort was. She goes, “What? Do I look like chopped liver or something?”

I didn’t realize she was escorting. She normally works in the open contact visiting area.

Ida’s back now. She returned right before dinner, and boy is she pissed! I don’t blame her. She’s not going home today. Not because they denied her motion, but because the incompetent assholes in court fucked up. She filed the motion on December 15th and 10 days later, like she was supposed to, the prosecutor responded to her. However, she wasn’t scheduled for court a couple of weeks later like they were supposed to schedule her. So, it was a wasted trip for her because now she has to wait another two weeks, but by then her time will be up anyway.

Although Ida did go to court today (she was supposed to go a month ago), the judge hadn’t yet ruled on her second motion. She had two different motions and the judge hadn’t ruled on either one, actually, because the prosecutor had yet to give his answer to this second one which was the same as the first one. The stupid shit of a prosecutor was supposed to be in court for Ida but was in a trial instead. What a stupid fuck!

The question I’ve been asking myself is – do I really want to bother with my own motion, knowing how much they fuck up (most of the time it’s deliberate) and knowing it’s destined to fail? Any cold-hearted, cold-blooded judge who could do what he’s done to me would not be willing to undo any of it. I just don’t know if I want to sit in an ice-cold cell for 12 hours in shackles, belly chains and handcuffs on a cold metal slab with no mattress, all because I’m too white.

Since she hadn’t had her hour out, she was given time out after dinner. I gave her our number so she could call and tell Tom all about what happened and what we could do in my case, but there was no answer. I guess I’ll just have to talk to him tomorrow when I see him.

Ida said that according to what they say downstairs, the spitter’s got an infection. Thank God I didn’t stay in 3 because I’d have ended up in a big cell. I’d have refused and gone to A Tower first.

I also forgot to write that no, I was never the least bit attracted to Maria. She has close-set eyes with an upturned nose. You could see right up her nostrils. Her face reminded me of a monkey’s.

It must’ve been cold today because they had the heat running in the middle of the afternoon.

Both the decongestant and allergy pills I got from commissary turned out to be worthless as far as making me drowsy enough to fall asleep earlier and keep a day schedule goes. And I thought I could use that to keep a schedule and work out in those cold, smoky tents – yeah, right!

It’s about 10:00 and one of the coldest nights since Kahn first put me here. I’ve got everything I’ve got on, minus my bra.

Ida said Kahn described me as “a sweet little girl who doesn’t snore” when she was pulling Melinda out and moving me in.

Now how would she know I don’t snore?

The closer we get to February 15th, the more I don’t look forward to Ida leaving. I have come to care for her a lot as I said before. I wouldn’t mind having her as a mother. She has two grown, married sons. She and her husband are retired. Ida’s worked for legal offices and written for newspapers, in case I haven’t already said so. She and Ron live in Chandler in a 2500-square-foot house.

I hate getting comfortable with a celly and then having to lose them like with Kim, Rosa, and Mary, although Kim turned out to be a phony. And a liar. If I stay with Ida till she leaves, I’ll break two records. It’ll be the longest celly and the longest time in the same cell, omitting the 16 hours I spent in 3. Then what kind of rude, inconsiderate, crazy, loud celly will I get? I know God’s going to compensate me for Ida and Mary. Just like he compensated me for Carolyn and Monday who weren’t great cellies.

Ida would’ve called Tom had she gotten out today. I told her it would’ve been long-distance, and she said money was no object for her. I guess not if you can pay $10,000 for a cruise to Antarctica and $7,000 on a ticket for the Concord to fly to Germany.

M205

Well, I never did stay with Maria long enough to find out if I could sleep in the same room with her because I ended up moving back in with Ida at 9:00 this morning. It’s quite a funny story, but I’m not in the mood to write much now. I’ll just say one thing about Maria now. She’s not your typical filthy Mexican. She was quite a clean freak actually.

It’s about midnight now and I still can’t sleep. I wish I could, though. Weekdays are full of wake-ups. Breakfast, nurses, rec calls, other calls, clothes exchanges, etc.

Tate’s on tonight, and the only reason I’m writing this is that she left the whole dayroom lit up.

Deanna must’ve given her sleeping pills away to be up at this hour. I hear her over there. That lucky 200+ pound black mass is leaving in 4 days.

I can’t believe I’m still in the same cell with the same celly. Maybe it is different here. Maybe you do stay in one place longer, unless you’re trying to get away from a crazy celly, out of a 4-man cell, or are being swapped because others can’t get along, or they need your lower bunk. When Palma works A, which will be long before she returns here, she will not be happy to see Melinda there! Nor will she be surprised. Palma’s bringing me over here has really alleviated a lot of my stress, even though I don’t sleep well here. Still, I’m really grateful to her. I know my luck will run out eventually and that I’ll end up with a nightmare of a celly even if I stay out of the big cells. I’ll be shocked if I stay here with Ida till she leaves, and worried about what’ll come in here next if I do. I hate adjusting to new cellies!

Ida said she was curious to see if anyone would order her a candy bar, so I took the hint and ordered her one. What the hell? Besides, she’s going to be giving me a lot of shit (I hope) when she leaves, even if none of it cost her anything.

What is the hip-hop station doing playing oldies? They’re actually having an oldies show. How weird.

Here comes Tate again. Must be around 12:30 now.

I can’t wait for my commissary! I’m starving! I just hope to hell they don’t fuck up. It’s hit or miss with these incompetent fools.

M203

Just a quick update saying that Julia and I swapped places. I guess Julia wasn’t so quiet after all. According to Maria, she was fidgety, pacing and waking her up, so she asked the DO to move her. That’s when Ida offered to take Julia as long as she didn’t snore, and I offered to go with Maria in 203 where it’s warmer, darker, quieter and more private. I do hear the TV blaring really well here, though, and that obnoxious juvi next door.

That cell has the best lighting, too. The light’s not as long and it’s not right by the top bunk like it is in 202 and 205.

Anyway, Ida and I did not part as enemies. Neither did Julia and Maria. We just want cellies on our schedules. Maria’s not as heavy of a sleeper as Mary or Deanna, but I doubt she’s as light of a sleeper as I am. I doubt anyone is. I just wish she was as quiet as she said she was. Why do I always get the talkers?!

She has to go to court tonight, so time will tell whether or not she disrupts my sleep while she’s up, but she might disrupt it when she’s not up if she keeps sighing and talking in her sleep like she seems to do. I hope it works out, though I just don’t know what to make of this one. My guess is she’s going to be waking me up. Maybe even more than Ida did. Ida at least tried to be quiet, but this one doesn’t strike me as the respectful type.

Got my commissary with no problems. Just when I thought Maria wasn’t going to be a beggar, little by little, she started begging, although I did offer her some bagel chips. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe that’s why she started to try to take advantage of me, thinking she could just ask for things if I was willing to give.

I’m still not sure whether or not I made a mistake in swapping with Julia or not. Time will tell. If I can sleep, I’ll be OK. She’s not as animated as Ida, but she’s not as quiet as she led me to believe she was, either. So many people say they are what they aren’t. She’s a little talkative, and there’s some self-talk going on, too.

She preaches about God, and I’m so fucking sick of hearing about shit like that! If God’s so wonderful, then how come the world is so fucked up? There is no God. There’s nothing but a devil. God’s nothing but a fairytale created by those who are unrealistically optimistic and need to invent him as a coping mechanism. How can people be so naïve? What is it with these southwesterners? Everything’s God this, God that.

She’s creative, though. She made me a cross by weaving blanket threads, a carnation from toilet paper, and a very impressive cup holder, identical to hers, that holds our toothpaste and toothbrushes. She took an empty toilet paper roll and glued a picture from a magazine on it, stuffed the bottom tightly with toilet paper to give it a bottom, then glued it to the wall with toothpaste.

I just can’t get into reading in this place. I’m content with just writing and listening to music. I’ve only read a couple of books since I’ve been here. I guess I’m just used to reading at home in my comfortable bed with a big bowl of popcorn.

I don’t know if Ida’s crazy or not, but she told me that at home she slaps her thighs, ass and stomach to keep fat off. The slapping is supposed to break up the fat. I’ll try it when I get out of here.

After a week of fighting for it, I finally got my inhaler last night, and I should only need to fight for two more inhalers while I’m here. Sharon, the nurse I told my joke to, was kind enough to bring me the inhaler after her rounds, saying she didn’t trust anyone else. Neither do I. Some other black nurse at noon told me she’d put one on the cart for me. The lying bitch never even asked for my name, let alone put one on the cart for me. Sharon went all the way back to medical just to bring me one.

Barajas is on again. She sure does like to smile at me. She’s a friendly one.

Melinda finally got A Towered. She just couldn’t cut it next door and they finally got rid of her. Mary was thrilled to see her go.

They have this ‘Daily Jobs’ sheet they posted this morning. Each room rotates around a job list. Some days we have to clean the showers, do the trash, tables, phones, floors, etc. I ain’t doing shit. I’m here to do time I shouldn’t be doing. Not to be the jail’s housekeeper.

Mindy was passing a titty impression sheet around for those who were interested, and I sure wasn’t one of them. She wanted people to rub lipstick on their tits and make impressions on paper for her husband.

Oh, please! What kind of desperate pervert is she married to?

Cedeño’s on now. She’s harmless.

God, it is freezing in here! Is it because it’s been cooler outside because of the rain we’ve had, or is it because the stupid shits cranked the AC up?

It’s about 4:30 now and I’m so hungry. Without commissary, I hardly eat shit. That’s because most of the jail food is so horrid. In fact, I’ll bet you anything we have weenies tonight, after having chicken yesterday. We haven’t had them in a while, either. I can tolerate them better when they’re corndogs and not just plain hot dogs.

It wasn’t weenies. It was a hard chicken patty. We think it was chicken, anyway. I can’t wait for commissary. I’m sick of potato salad, salad, and overcooked zucchini. The only good thing we’ve had in weeks was last night’s chicken. Everything else was either so-so or gross. Every now and then they’d give us lime juice for lunch (yuck) and now they’re on an orange kick. I wish they’d stick to the grape, cherry and raspberry.

Ida and I are getting along better than ever and I’ll miss her when she leaves, but not that mouth! If she can’t talk to me, she starts talking to herself. And when she’s not talking at all she’s sighing or rustling papers. I dread turning my radio off at times, knowing she’ll take it as an invitation to talk. Sometimes I just want to lie in bed and be alone with my thoughts, but then she cuts into them. Jail is no place for those who don’t like to chat and who don’t like people. The only one I like talking with is Tom, but of course, I’d talk to someone like Palma, too.

She says I may have second thoughts about having kids when it’s too late. It’s never too late for Invitro, but I doubt it. I know Tom would’ve been a good father, but I just don’t want the burden and expense. Life’s hard enough just taking care of myself, and I still couldn’t see myself bringing a kid into the world with it being the way it is. It’s no place for kids.

Still 3 more days left of this month to go. It seems to be taking forever for this month to end!

I miss hearing Christmas songs on the radio.

I wish I were in 203! It’s so much quieter and warmer in there. And not as bright.

God, I have mixed emotions about this place! I’ve met some interesting people and have no regrets about meeting Palma, Johnson, Rosa and Mary, but people, people, people! That’s all I ever see and hear and I just want to go home to Tom and never see another human being again!!!!! The fact that I’ve got to do the time I’ve already done all over again is so depressing. It feels like I’ve been here for a year!

During the evenings I really need the radio because it gets pretty noisy with people yelling through the vents. If there was ever a time I wished for two normal ears, it’s now. I don’t mind having to hold the left earbud up when I rock. I can rock on one arm. But when I’m writing or just lying around, it gets a little hard to hold the thing. If I’m going to be moving around I have to have only one in. I don’t hear out of my left ear like I do with my right, but I can feel the beat in the left ear.

I like how they’ve been offering Tylenol or aspirin on a daily basis. That’s less I have to buy, and I’ve been having to take pain pills almost every day. Jail is so hard and uncomfortable and causes a lot of aches and pains.

There is one way I can stop Ida from pacing without a word. All I have to do is go to the bathroom. As soon as I sit on the toilet, she goes and sits on her bed. She won’t stay there for long, though.

The water’s still hot! How amazing. Guess they didn’t like being threatened with outside agencies getting involved.

Maria just walked by after chatting in Spanish with the spitter, as we call the new girl that spits all over the place.

Palma was on last night! So I didn’t scare her off, after all. As Ida pointed out, she wouldn’t go out of her way to be all smiles and chatty with me if she were uncomfortable with knowing I liked her. It obviously doesn’t bother her.

As soon as I saw it was Palma, Ida and I Palma-proofed the room. Ida put her extra condiments in an empty bag and placed it in the trash. I buried my extra towel under my blanket, covered my juice bottle with my gown, and pushed my extra underwear way back on the shelf it’s on.

The idea of my snob test was to see if she’d initiate a conversation with me if I didn’t first. She did, but not until later. She made 3 or 4 passes before dinner without a word to me and barely a glance, either.

She was her usual bitchy self to others and I thought she’d be a bitch to me, too. Mary, Marilyn, Deanna and Melinda did not start her off in a good mood. They spoke to Barajas about moving Melinda and I guess Barajas told them to talk to the next DO, but the next DO was the wrong DO. Palma may love to bounce people around over in A, but fortunately, not in M.

Anyway, Palma was cussing left and right, threatening to write them all up if they got in a fight, etc. I heard her say to Melinda, “B, you’ve been everywhere and you can’t get along with anybody.” Then she was like, “This is jail, cut the shit, it’s all fucking mad dog bullshit, ignore each other, keep your noses clean, try asking some other DO to move you cuz I’m not wasting my time cuz you’ll just need to move yet again. And as far as this medication bullshit, you’re responsible for your own meds when you get them,” she said to Deanna, who claimed that Melinda was stealing them from her.

Brea’s on now.

My second tank said to ask the nurse for an inhaler; one’s been ordered for me.

Anyway, Ida said she could clearly see that Palma treated me differently. I’d say yes, I’m obviously more popular with her, but I’m still not sure the extent of it.

When she went to let us out to go down and get our dinner, she was like, “Hi! Why are you in this room?”

I explained how I ended up here and said, “I’m not moving!”

Smiling she said, “Well, I’m not moving anyone.”

“Yeah, I heard,” I said, reminding her I’d beat the shit out of Melinda if I were stuck with her.

Dinner was the worst ever. Worse than weenies. It was this thick gravy-like shit. Neither of us could figure out for sure what it was. I’ve been practically starving, the food’s so bad.

After dinner is when things got funny.

When Palma was on a walk, Ida asked her what the chances were of her getting some extra salad.

“Not very likely,” said Palma.

That’s when I started laughing. It was an I-told-you-so kind of laugh that got Palma laughing too, as she headed down the stairs.

Palma really has a way of lifting my spirits. I was kind of down, but when she came on and I saw that I was still cool with her, I perked right up. I’m sure I was the only one in the pod happy to see her.

When Palma came to collect the trays, I told her another joke I remembered and she got a kick out of it.

I let her make a few passes without saying anything till the nurse came to give Ida another suppository (she’s saving them for the next time she gets stuck). Ida held up the suppository and was about to explain to Palma that she wanted the salad for “intestinal problems,” but Palma cut her off saying, “I don’t want to know.”

This is when I said, “She doesn’t need any of that stuff. I can scare the shit out of her.”

Palma, who had been out of view, stuck her head in the door and said, “That’s a funny joke. Tell the nurse your little joke.” I did and they both laughed before taking off.

After another walk or two in silence, I recited some German phrases Ida taught me. Sure enough, she looked at me all confused. This was when Ida gave Palma a tank order demanding books, or she’d “stick her little bulldog of a roommate on them.” Palma rolled her eyes, looked at Ida and shook her head, then went down the stairs.

On her second to the last walk, when she had her clipboard, we said goodnight to each other, and I told her to come back soon.

For her last walk, I was going to hide in the corner, then run to my bed as soon as I heard her slip the key into the lock, but she did such a quick, half-assed check that she never noticed I was hiding.

I fell asleep earlier, had a dream Palma went down on me, then got up at lunchtime, feeling more rested. There are fewer interruptions on weekends. Tomorrow we’ll be the last ones out, so I’ll already be up for it. I’ll try calling Tom, but I don’t know. The phones have been broken for days.

Like Mary did when she was on the top bunk, I find myself writing more up here than at the desk. It’s easier than climbing up and down all the time.

Brea said goodbye to us before leaving, and Ida said, “So next time you’ll be in here and we’ll be out there?”

Brea was like – I don’t think so!

The big ugly mean butch is on now. When she came by with her clipboard I said, “You again?”

“Yup,” she said nodding.

I said, “You ought to go to the dorms. No one here likes you.”

“I know. That’s why they keep putting me here,” she said.

I had to laugh at that one, but it sure felt good to tell her off, so to speak.

Got a pair of batteries and 2 envelopes from Melinda for 5 drink mixes. It would’ve been 6, but she gave me one back so I’d have it till Monday. That was nice of her, I must admit. I may not need it, though. Usually, after I water down the lunch juices that keep me going all day. She still thinks she owes me for the crackers I gave her in November. She doesn’t, but I’ll get her a drink mix on Monday. I use most of my mixes for envelope or battery trades, anyway.

Woke up a zillion times and am tired today. There’s less going on on weekends, so maybe I’ll catch up then.

Ida said Misery walked her back from rec and glanced into the room, but didn’t enter it. Wow, not even to tell me to take my rose picture down?

We found out how old Julia is and were both shocked. She’s 57. That’s 2 years younger than Ida, yet Julia looks like she’s 65-70 years old.

Barajas, this plump young white girl was on today. She’s really nice.

Mindy, down below us with Myra, had anything but a pleasant day. She went to court and came back crying hysterically. She’s looking at doing a lot of time.

It’s a full house now. Some big ugly broad came into the lower big cell, who Ida said was grossing her out at rec by spitting all over the concrete.

I just heard Mary tell Myra to tell the DO that Melinda’s trying to get Deanna’s meds and is causing trouble again. I suppose this means I’m at risk of being moved again since there’s no place to put her without being swapped with someone.

Again, I’ll go back to A where I could actually sleep a little better, believe it or not, before I go to a big cell, even if Mary’s in it.

In a way, I hope that sick bitch Arajo’s on tonight. After all, she claims she doesn’t do moves. Unless, of course, she really meant she doesn’t move those who want to be moved.

Got a letter from Tom outlining his planting and farming plans and ideas. They sound really good, but they also sound like an awful lot of work and money.

Tom didn’t have much to update me on. He’s feeling better, working a lot, and Dan’s house is still for sale. Mary and Dave may go to Laughlin for a couple of days and he’ll stay with Mom and Pepper if they do.

On my way back from the visit, I saw Palma walking from A Tower, but since we were at a distance, it took me a minute to realize it was her. She was heading towards medical. I don’t know whether or not she saw me, but she probably did. A part of me is glad she may never return to M, or at least very rarely because she’s too much of a cell-bouncing, room-tossing tyrant!

Espi’s on now. She’s really cool. She was telling Ida and I how the life expectancy of your average DO is 55 and she’s 50, so she’s going to be building her own home in the Bisbee area. How this is supposed to keep her from dying in 5 years is beyond me.

Ida went to medical and they gave her a suppository anyway. She’s being nice enough to wait till I get called to medical before she uses it. I just hope they don’t fuck up and that I am going for sure. When I was talking to the nurse this morning, she said M200 was on for today. It seems everyone else but me has gone so far. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m going to get spited for grieving.

Just heard on the news that the average high school drop-out rate for whites is 8%, 12% for blacks, and a whopping 30% for Mexicans. Yeah, I knew they were the dumbest species alive for a reason. Never have I met a group of people dumber than them Mexies! Blacks are pretty stupid too, but these Mexies can’t even spell or write their own names!

Kahn is on now. I wonder if she’ll be surprised to see us still together.

“Jodi rocks to radio,” said one of Ida’s notes. I asked her if she was starting a journal, and she said it was just something to remember me by. I’m surprised she’d want to remember anyone from this place. Anyway, this is what journalists do. They take notes, ask questions, and write their experiences. Ida won’t shut up about the idea of me writing stories. As I told her – I’m a fucking journalist, not a novelist, OK?

It’s been about 3 weeks and still no Palma. Did I scare her off? I’m not sure what to think. Some DOs have only worked here once since I’ve been here.

I drew some pictures from magazine ads for Ida’s grandkids.

Medical is spiting me for grieving them. It shouldn’t take this long to get a new inhaler. I’ll put the second tank out in the morning. According to Tom, they got sued for not being rude enough to wake people up and check on them, so that’s why they do it. Coming by to check on us is fine, but why do they have to do it so early in the fucking morning before everyone’s up?

Dinner was horrible. They’ve been feeding us worse and worse lately. Tonight we got tomato slop with potatoes mixed in and dead veggies. The only thing edible was the pudding cup for dessert like what we got with lunch. And like I’ll be getting plenty of this weekend (unless they change their snacks) because I’m going to win our bet.

It’s 9:15 now, Kahn just told me. I asked her if she thought medical was spiting me, and she said no because everyone grieves medical and she’d grieve medical if she were in here.

If I’m still with Ida when she leaves, I’ll be getting 4-5 toothbrushes and little tubes of toothpaste, some envelopes, and about 50 sheets of paper (a whole pad’s worth) from her indigent packages.

Hey, I’m a cheap Jew! I’ll take all the freebies I can get!

I noticed I’ve been a bit farsighted lately. Tom said he has been too, and he’s normally nearsighted.

I had quite an entertaining fantasy earlier. One where the bitch had to come to this jail. Upon entering the jail, she requests Ad-Seg because she knows she has an enemy here. Then she’s put in this cell with me. With me! Oh, how I’d love that, and oh, what I would do to her!!!!! One thing I wouldn’t do is kill her because then she couldn’t live to suffer. I swear I’d do shit like claw the bitch’s face up so bad that every time she looked in the mirror she’d remember me.

I knew I’d wake up a zillion times. That’s because I slept well yesterday, and after every time I do sleep well, I sleep shitty the next day. Ida woke me up a few times today, and again I explained to her that she needs to settle down. I’ve let enough of her wake-up calls slide. Tonight I’m waking her up with my radio, even though she didn’t wake me up intentionally.

I could hear the rude black nurse long before she even got up here with her loud are-you-OKs? Miss Are You OK pretended not to see Ida waving her away this morning and bopped the door a few times anyway.

As has been the case all my life, there’s nothing I can do about it when it comes to people who are either abusive or rude to me. They always have the upper hand and I never have any say as far as their actions go. All I can do is live with this bitch’s shit like I had to in Phoenix and like God so obviously wants me to, for the next 13½ weeks. I wonder, though – are they going to spite me out of my inhaler because I grieved the damn bitch?

Another one of many wake-up calls this morning was them bopping around on the roof again (God’s having me be woken up for every time the fan kept me from being woken up by the freeloaders in the Phoenix house). Yesterday, after realizing it had been fairly pleasant in here for a few days, I wondered if the AC might be broken again. I’ll know if it gets cold in here tonight.

A couple of plumbers were here again today, and the water’s still warm. Not as warm as it should be and people would like, but warm enough.

Dixon, a chubby black girl, was on today. She’s cool, but I rarely see her. Hann’s on now. She’s cool, too.

My Chapstick ran out on me faster than I thought it would, so Mary gave me what little she had left of hers for some red lipstick. I peeled some off and put it in a piece of plastic.

I forgot to mention that Tom said both Butter Rum and Oreo finally died. The same day, too. So they lasted a little over a year till their tumors got the better of them.

This may sound funny, but even though jail, Brattleboro, and Valleyhead (private schools) are all hell on earth, I’d easily pick jail out of the 3 because at least they leave you alone here. You can sleep when you want, stay up all night, and in a sense, there’s more freedom in jail, as funny as that may sound. They don’t run us ragged here with classes, sports and groups 15 hours a day. Also, I knew when I’d be getting out the day I came here. But I didn’t know I’d be in the funny farm I was in for 5 months, and I didn’t know I’d be in the private school I was in for 2 years.

Melinda’s back next door with Deanna, Marilyn and Mary. Mary’s not happy about it at all, either. Melinda won’t last long there. She can’t get along with anyone anywhere. Deanna had moved downstairs to be with Lisa, then Dixon sent her back. Apparently, Lisa’s a keep-away because they think Deanna and Lisa like each other a little too much.

Ida was helping that old woman make a phone call. Julia is her name, and no, she doesn’t know sign language. She can talk and she can hear. She just can’t hear well. I hope to be her celly when Ida leaves. She says she doesn’t like to talk much. I hope this is true, although people have a way of saying they are what they aren’t (I would later be glad we didn’t end up cellies).

Poor Ida. She is not happy right now. She’s constipated and she has hemorrhoids she says she ruptured and is in a lot of pain right now. She’s pissed and bitching that CC went to medical within hours of pointing out a rash she had because she’s black. She says you get things faster if you’re not white because they’re afraid you’ll cry racism if you don’t. She says that maybe we whites ought to cry racism for a change. Yeah, maybe we should. That’d be stooping to their level, but she’s right – minorities have become the majority and they are getting the upper hand. There’s no happy medium when it comes to anything in this world. People either have no rights or too many rights. It hardly seems fair that while they can have their black pageants and their Spanish radio stations, we can’t have a white anything or else we get called racists. They definitely have the upper hand in the courts, that’s for damn sure. I, too, hate anyone in the system, be it pigs, lawyers or judges. They all ought to be shot.

We had beef patties tonight and last night. Sure beats weenies!

Hopefully, Ida will shut up long enough to let me read. Then I’ll listen to more music, which is what I do most of the time, anyway.

It’s around 10:00 right now and still too noisy to sleep. These allergy pills do make me slightly drowsy, but not as much as I’d like them to. I miss my Melatonin! I recommended it to Ida, letting her know it’s an all-natural thing. She has trouble sleeping, too.

Just a little while ago we heard that same loud banging I’ve heard in the morning. Ida and I still aren’t sure where it’s coming from. Could they be working on the roof at this hour? I don’t see how it could be next door, or below us.

Myra finally shut up. God, that girl drives me crazy after dinner until around now. All she does is laugh the night away with this high-pitched laugh that sounds like a dog yipping. And what the fuck is so funny anyway?

Earlier, when Hann brought Ida some stuff for her constipation, I said I’d have to scare the shit out of her. Both Hann and Ida got a kick out of that one.

Just had a nice visit with Tom. I don’t have to worry our visit will jinx me and cause me to have to move, because as usual, crazy Melinda’s causing problems downstairs, and I heard Hudgens say she wasn’t moving anyone.

Tom said he’s waiting till I hit the halfway marker to call about getting me transferred to a Pinal County PO. On the 30th I’ll have been here 90 days and will have 90 days left.

January seemed to go pretty fast, and as usual, the first half of the month went quicker than the last half.

Fortunately, Tom didn’t get the Faith Hill CD, because there are several CD singles I want to get. He said we could go to the record store when I got out and I could pick out what I wanted. Awesome! It’s one more thing to look forward to and to help keep me going so I can somehow manage to survive another 3 months in here, I hope!

Shut up, Ida! That’s the only thing I don’t like about our resumed relationship – she never stops talking.

Although the allergy pills didn’t put me out earlier than the usual 2 AM and didn’t make me very drowsy, I slept the best I’ve slept in two weeks last night. I slept for 8 hours with only 4 interruptions. Ida only woke me up once when she blew her nose. Not something she could help.

I finally got a new blanket this morning. The one I’d had was from the tents and it was filthy, so it’s nice to finally have a new one.

As predicted, the showers are working their way down a few degrees at a time. Today, as I was washing out my thermal, the water was barely warm. By the weekend it’ll be cold again.

My face looks pitiful. Absolutely gross. I’ve got a broken blood vessel under one eye, no doubt from lack of sleep and veins showing through my cheeks.

When I put in a tank to psych, I wanted to see one of their quack shrinks, but expected to see Kara. Instead, I saw a woman named Martha. I told her that I’ve always been anti-shrink and quick to label them licensed drug dealers, and bashed psych pills because I always saw turning to those as being no better than turning to booze, pot, etc. However, at this point, I’d take anything if it’d help me sleep better and get through another 3 months of this bullshit. I know I won’t be getting anything, though.

Went out for rec again today. It was a pleasant 66 degrees. Limon took Ida, Lisa, Melinda, Mindy, Zapata and I out after making sure no one had any problems with anyone in the group.

Melinda was telling me she gets a kick out of it when I flip her off. I was teasing her about the day she just couldn’t win with Vasquez. She didn’t get a kick out of it that day!

Melinda, Lisa, Mindy and I played volleyball for a while.

Limon and Paul are my favorite male DOs. Mary had a visit at the same time I did (Tom saw her) and Paul was teasing us on our way. With his arms folded across his chest, he looked at us and said, “No,” while shaking his head. “Just kidding,” he said after we were like – what?

I’m shocked to say that the showers were warm, even hot at times! Let’s see how long it lasts. A couple of plumbers were here again, too.

Dinner was the shittiest! We’ve had weenies for dinner, for breakfast, and for yesterday’s dinner. How many more weenies are they going to give us? What happened to chicken, burritos and beef patties? Everything’s either hot dogs or slop lately. I’m amazed we got yogurt two days in a row for lunch. This is all the more I look forward to commissary. I just hope they didn’t fuck up!

Ida described a cruise she and her husband went on. I’d love to take a short cruise!

She’s got to stop waking me up, though. I told her this can’t go on. I get enough wake-ups from outside as it is. I don’t need an inside source waking me up, too. I thought I was hyper. Well, this woman makes me seem like I’m in a coma! She just won’t sit still! She can’t be waking me up 3-4 times just because she’s up and I’m not. Except for Mary, whenever I get just one celly, they always seem to have some annoying quirk about them. Melinda talked to herself, Deanna, who’s just another just-take-care-of-myself-and-don’t-worry-about-others black bitch, was rude, and this one’s so damn animated. Way more so than even Melinda, who gave me some magazines to look through. I just look at the pictures.

Got my commissary without any problems. I got those allergy pills, but I don’t know if they’ll make me drowsy. We’ll find out when I see white Johnson do her clipboard walk because that’s when I’ll take one.

I can’t believe they actually have the heat on now.

Ida and I patched things up. We talked a lot today about all kinds of things and I’m glad we’re still cellies. We talked about the things that have happened to make me this angry, including my childhood. She really is a good person deep down. I told her I know I’m not perfect and am sorry if I scared her in any way.

She talks a lot, but she’s pretty smart and has many interesting things to say. She’s not your typical inmate any more than Rosa or Mary (I was chatting with Mary earlier who’s still sick). She even taught me a few German phrases like Guten Tag (good day) and Ich Liebe Dich (I love you).

Tomorrow’s Ida’s b-day. Even though I’ve been rounding her off to 60, she’ll actually be 59. Hope I look half as good as she does if I live that long. She doesn’t have much sagging and wrinkling for her age and she’s skinnier than I am.

Ida and made a bet. If she goes to court next week, whether or not her motion is denied, I owe her a bag of trail mix from commissary. If she doesn’t go to court at all, she owes me her lunch snacks all next weekend.

I never make bets I can’t win.

Cedeño, the huge 250-pound DO that’s on now, has her clipboard. That means it’s around 10:30.

This morning I put in a tank for an inhaler refill and to see Psych for some sleeping pills, but I have a feeling Kara will show up instead and I won’t get the pills. They fucking force psych pills down my throat as a kid, but when I ask for them as an adult, nobody will give them to me!

Ida told me her daughter-in-law had liposuction on her thighs. It costs $600 a thigh and it really works, I hear. It’s been 2 years and her thighs are still thin. Just like me, she exercised yet could never lose the fat on her thighs. I still want to check into a body wrap, but this is something to consider for my thighs and gut. Even my hips and face are huge! It’d be worth the money to me, but it’d take some time to save up for it. Still, it’d be a damn worthy investment.

The shower water is still cold, but what else is new? And it’s so obvious that it’s deliberately set that way.

That was so rude! So incredibly rude! That damn Arajo butch that Ida grieved for being rude just tore up a note I stuck in the trap for her. I never did anything to this bitch! What? Did she assume it was from Ida?

Anyway, the note said that although I’d be OK with staying here, I’d prefer to be swapped with Melinda in 203 because I was having problems with Ida.

Ida did let me sleep, although it was noisy outside till after lunch (after dinner they’ll all scream at each other through the vents), and although Ida did wake me a few times with things beyond her control – toilet-flushing, coughing, etc., we agreed that while we don’t have to like each other, we do have to respect each other. That includes each other’s sleep, which is our top priority. I just wish we were on the same schedule and that she’d sit still for more than 5 minutes! And I’m sick of the hours of paper rustling, too. At least her mouth is no longer flapping non-stop.

---

I just asked Miss Butchie Bitch on her next walk what her problem was, and the miserable bitch claims to have been advised by first shift that we’ve asked to swap before, and not to swap us with anyone.

Well, she was advised wrong. This is the first time I’ve asked to swap, and Ida says she never asked to be swapped either unless Arajo’s referring to the time Ida asked Espi to move me. Also, Misery was on first shift today, and although she didn’t come in here or pick on Ida in any way, Ida would never ask Misery to move me. She wouldn’t ask Misery for anything.

I just wish I weren’t so damn exhausted! I seem to be more tired and more beat each day. Am I ever going to feel at least half alive again? Somewhat rested?

Got a letter from Tom. As always, it was a nice one, saying he’s going to take a week off when I get out to make up for all the time we’ve lost.

He doesn’t have the correct address for me to send complaints to yet, and Rosa is still in A.

Still with Tina? I doubt it. Not with the way Palma bounces people around over there.

Like mine is, he says his cold is lingering on, and Houdini’s been mean to Harry. Houdini’s taking his frustration with the freeloaders taking his mom away from him out on Harry.

He’s waiting on a better job with better pay at the bank and working overtime.

It was good to hear him say he’s working on setting up our farm (something we want to do anyway) and getting me transferred to a Pinal county PO, because “they understand about the work involved in rural living,” as he says. I’m glad he’s taking care of this because I wouldn’t know where to begin.

The kid here that I always have to see and hear says you don’t have to work on standard probation, which Tom verified I am on.

Ida keeps some weird notes. I see her scribble shit down every now and then. She leaves them on the desk. When I was eating at the desk, I noticed one of her notes said “peephole.”

What peephole?

In the note I told her was slipped under the door by someone I didn’t see, I thanked her for making a call for me, mixed in with mumbo-jumbo. She later told me she fell for it at first and was genuinely confused because she did make a phone call for someone.

Pérez was on the last two nights. Finally! She took me out of the cell (just outside the door) and we chatted about all kinds of things. She even opened up to me too, telling me all kinds of personal things.

I told her it was too bad there weren’t more DOs like her and that it was too bad she wasn’t on first or second shift so I could see her more. That’s when she told me that in May, after her 19-year-old daughter has her baby, she’ll be switching to second shift.

She preached to me about trusting God – Oh, please! She told me of other cases where their sentences got reduced and was really trying to be encouraging.

I asked her why some people tend to work M more than others, and she said it was because they don’t want to be in the dorms. She likes people, though, so she’s in the dorms a lot.

She told me she has 15 brothers and sisters and has family all over, including Puerto Rico. She’s 44 and thought I was 23 when she first saw me.

I mentioned the rude bitch of a DO who ripped my note up and she said they talked about it. Yeah, I’m sure they did. I’m sure the bitch said I asked to be swapped 1000 times.

Instead, Melinda and some girl in the lower big cell swapped places. Vasquez did the swap. Good. I feel better with Melinda in a big cell. When she’s in a little one, that’s one less place I can go when they want to start bouncing me again.

I asked Melinda why she moved since the lady seemed pretty passive (another older lady), and she said she was having trouble communicating with her because she can’t hear. I slipped a note under the door to let her know I’d be able to help with signing if she needed it.

I wish I was deaf in this place!

Pérez has a brother who’s deaf-mute and says she wants to learn sign language. We agreed I’d teach her something each time she worked, even if that’s not very often. The first night she asked me how to sign: Can I help you? Last night it was: I’m sorry.

I knew Pérez was on again before I saw her by the way her keys jingled. She has a very dyky walk.

We were talking about religion and I was telling her that one of the problems I had with religion was how they bash gays, preaching all kinds of prejudice against them. I told her that as far as I was concerned, any religion that can tell someone it’s a sin to love someone just because they carry the same body parts is bullshit.

She said not to believe what some people might say about churches and God pertaining to that. “Or else God would be judging me,” she said, confirming I’m right about believing she’s gay, too.

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.

---

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.

---

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.

Vasquez is on today. Crazy Melinda got kicked out of next door again, so now she’s alone in 203. Deanna was at psych at the time so she missed the whole thing.

Right after Melinda moved, Ida and I ate lunch together in the dayroom while we watched the depressing news. I couldn’t hear it well at all, so I had to read the closed captions.

Melinda was at her door, and just as Vasquez was heading up the stairs with her back towards me, I flipped her off.

“Fuck you,” she yells.

I then said, “Vasquez, did you hear that? She’s so mean!”

Vasquez said, “Yeah, I heard. Doesn’t sound like there’s much love in the house today.”

When Vasquez couldn’t see me, I’d scurry down to Melinda’s door and bug her. Mary and Marilyn were cracking up. It was so funny! She went off on me again for telling Myra and Mindy why she was moved. I made sure to talk loud enough for her to hear, too.

At one point, while our door was propped open and I was brushing my teeth, Vasquez came through from the other pod and Melinda asked her to tell me to stay away from her door. So, Vasquez asked me if I had been at her door, and in my most innocent voice, I told her no, it was Mary I was talking to. Just then, the psych case started yelling all kinds of shit, and Vasquez heads back to her door saying, “Maybe I should come and talk to you,” then goes on to tell her to stop her yelling, etc. It took everything I had not to burst out laughing.

Vasquez was nice enough to give Ida and I some of the juvi’s milk, and she let us stay out for over an hour.

---

That was some pretty good slop we had for dinner for a change, and there was enough to fill up on, too.

Ida agrees with me about the blacks and their fucked up ways. A lot of people do. So, if blacks really aren’t any worse than anyone else, then how come so many people feel the same way I do about them and their shit?

Been with Ida for a week now. We like each other, get along and are comfortable with one another. This means I’ll be moving anytime now.

Finally took a dump last night after being stuck for a while. It seems I go right after commissary.

Tom said he checked, and yes, Rosa is still in A.

Also, he said only those who are sentenced aren’t supposed to be in with two others over in A. But some of us, like myself, are sentenced.

I almost got written up by accident. The door popped right around when Tom usually visits, so I went down into the dayroom. When Mena saw me she said in a rude, snobby voice, “What are you doing out? Get back upstairs!”

I was like, “Well, you’re the one that popped my door.”

Later, when she came and got me when it was really visiting time, I explained that because it was around the time he visits, I automatically assumed that that was why she popped the door. She said she popped it by accident and to never come out unless I hear my name called because that’s a serious write-up, and on and on she went till I was ready to choke her! Again, I’m sick of being treated like a child and told what to do!