Yesterday I got a letter from Tom, mostly telling me about his raise and the new visitation rules before he knew I knew about them.

I gave him Mary and Myra’s names to check out online and told him not to bother with trying to find the best complaint address, since the water’s still hot, believe it or not, and now that I’m down to 60 days left. Two-thirds of the way to the finish line.

LaBorde fixed my leak. It was coming from the water well upstairs. She gave me an extra towel.

Everybody’s been kind to me today or at least ignoring me as I’d prefer. I was chatting like old times with Mary and Myra. Even Brandie, who never said a word to me in the past, or smiled, was smiling and friendly.

Nancy actually ignored me today on her hour out. Maybe she felt hesitant for fear of Myra defending me and yelling shit out at her.

Since the DOs know they can break rules and cut corners and get away with it, they do. LaBorde let Mindy out while I was out on my hour like she wasn’t supposed to, but I stayed right where I was, pacing around the dayroom. I wanted to see if she’d be dumb enough to make a move on me under LaBorde’s nose. Of course, if she had, I’d have broken every bone in her body, but she ignored me.

Yesterday’s biggest surprise, although it wasn’t that surprising, was a letter from Ida. I got a kick out of how Hann said, “Oh, so you’re going to tell her I said she was a complainer, huh?” when she saw I wrote her back. I laughed and said that she was a complainer. Yes, Ida was the queen of grievances and she knew it, too.

Ida’s letter was only a few sentences long. She just wanted to send me the articles she wrote in ‘78 for the Mesa Tribune. I wasn’t too impressed with the porcelain article, but the German castles were quite impressive.

As I asked her to, she signed the letter, “Fuck you, Sylvia” in German. “Fricke dich” is “fuck you.”

In my letter to Ida, I filled her in on the jail’s ups and downs, then informed her of what Espi told me about the newspaper she was in for stealing 5 years ago.

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No, my leak is not fixed, and it stinks, too. Damn it, LaBorde! Can’t you do anything right? I could end up in A Tower till this is squared away like Myra said she once did, and I’m not sure I want that.

I asked the old geezer why she wasn’t taking the mail I put under the door, and she told me she couldn’t bend over to pick things up. Then she shouldn’t be a DO. How’s she going to defend herself if she gets in a fight? This woman has gotta be well into her 50s. Too old for this job, unless she’s just being lazy. That’s always a possibility, too.

Anyway, what Espi said was that Ida was here 5 years ago.

So this wasn’t your first time in here, you little liar! What did you lie to me for, you old fart?

Anyway, I guess she was in for some probation violation. Something about reading a neighbor’s newspaper that she intended to put right back. Yeah, I knew she was in for something stupid. Most of them are, as Espi herself said.

I broke the ice with Bryant last night, though I didn’t mean to. It just happened like it does with most DOs once they get to know you unless you give them a reason not to like you.

I said hi to her and told her I had 60 days left. She asked if I’d be back. “Hell no!” I told her “I ain’t getting framed twice.”

“Good,” she said, “then you won’t be scaring me no more.”

I thought she was referring to my evil laugh, and I apologized, saying I didn’t realize I was that scary to her.

Then she goes, “Yeah, when you pop your little head up in the door you scare me.”

After I thanked her for handing me my breakfast in the morning, she said, “Mhm,” which is the first thing she ever said to me unless it was in response to my asking the time.

My current least favorite DO is Pancake Face Smith, OKA Barbie. I’d take Misery over Pancake Face Smith any day.

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Bunch is on now. Guess there’s no need to worry about anyone coming into Ad-Seg tonight. I remember when 3 was empty and she was like, “I’m not going to say anything.” I guess that means she doesn’t exactly enjoy checking people in here.

When I think of Tom I feel overwhelmed with gratefulness for all he’s done for me. I also feel guilty for all this shit. It may not be my fault, but because they fucked me over, they fucked him over, too. Yet amazingly, he’s still with me! Very few people stick together through shit like this. They gotta dump each other as soon as they have a bad day. That’s why so many people break up. That, and because being the extremists most people are, they seek mates that are either too similar or too different from them.

I just thank God, as mean and as unfair as he can be, that he didn’t have Tom end up framed and in jail, whether or not I did, too. Then I’d not only feel guilty beyond words but our lives would literally be ruined and over. If he couldn’t work, nothing would get paid for and we’d lose everything. I just wish I could handle this place as well as I know he could. The only thing that I think would be hard for him to deal with would be the food.

I just want to go home! Why has God been so obsessed with having me stuck in so many places I didn’t want to be, both as a kid and as an adult? I just want my life back, even though nothing will ever change. The freeloaders will continue to victimize whatever white people piss them off. Judge H will continue judging people and situations he doesn’t even know. The public defender will still lie to his clients, tricking them into confessing to things and signing plea agreements for things they aren’t even charged with. The pig will continue to coach and prep fellow blacks and pit them against whites, ruining their lives without a care in the world, all because their ancestors’ lives were ruined by slavery. The ones responsible couldn’t pay for it, so those of us who exist today have to pay for it.

How many more centuries will it take for these vicious, sick degenerates of society to move on???

Nancy’s still here, but I’m hoping she’ll be gone sometime this week. She’s never going to make it 3 years in prison. She’s going to threaten the wrong person. Some lifer with nothing to lose.

I can’t get that subhuman pig off my mind. How can I prove it coached her? How can I prove it planted evidence? What can I do to fight back and protect myself in the future?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Once again the Gods have protected my abusers. All I know is this fucking over Jodi and getting away with it won’t cut it anymore. I can’t just sweep this one under the carpet and “forget it.” I can’t sue for money I lost, I can’t get the time back I lost, but this pig needs to be exposed. If nothing comes of it other than to let the truth be known and to protect myself in the future, as well as others from going through the same thing, fine.

The question is – how? The direct approach? Go directly to him or his superiors and let them know that although I can’t prove it, I’m onto him and his schemes? Or should I reconsider going to the paper? I’m not so sure they’d print what they’d call an “unfounded accusation.” Besides, once it’s been established that a victim is a victim and a perpetrator is a perpetrator, no matter what the real truth is, that’s the way it stays. I’m always going to be seen and portrayed as the perpetrator in this case, even if everyone involved were to publicly announce what they did to fuck me over.

I don’t see how I could trust the media. Not after channel 3 edited out everything I said and added their own words to my face. If they just want to hear only what they want to hear – forget it.

I was talking to Bunch about my ordeal. She didn’t have any advice to offer me, but even she agrees that the system is a joke and that this could happen to anybody. Even her.

I think it’d be best to start with making the pig’s boss aware of the situation, even if he’s automatically going to jump to protect his own and side with his own. At least this way, though, if he’s dumb enough to fuck with some other unfortunate white soul, at least his boss will know that he’s been said to have caused trouble before. So even if there’s no proof and the scumbag covers up his tracks, they may at least keep a closer eye on the stupid fuck.

Now they’re being really fucking weird next door, with Myra as the leader, as usual. She was yelling up to Mindy, “Do you have the morning-after pill? Mary’s going to claim you as the daddy of the baby she just had.”

Dinner’s here. Fuck! It’s those fucking mother-fucking hot dogs! I’d like to cuff that fucking pig to a chair and stuff them down his throat one by one and see how he likes it!

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I had Bunch let me out to ditch the extra towel because it was getting pretty smelly. I’m using pads to sop up the wetness, though with the rains calming down, it’s been drier. At least I can flush wet, smelly pads.

The pencil sharpener is broken. Again? I think I’ll just spend the buck a week it’ll cost me to get the weekly limit of 10 pencils. I need pencils, paper and batteries like the air I breathe.

When Nancy went up the stairs after dumping her tray, I lay on the bed where she could see me, curious to see if she’d say anything. She didn’t. We just stared at each other without a word.

It was great to see Tom earlier, who got a raise! We agreed we’d meet for a half-hour on Tuesdays and an hour on Thursdays. Meanwhile, I’ll write Helen and tell her not to bother visiting and that I’ll contact her when I get out.

He promised, at my request, to get poles up with No Trespassing signs, since we still don’t have exterior fencing. No Trespassing signs are good to have regardless of whether or not you have freeloader/media problems. He says the media won’t come to the house. Let’s hope not. I couldn’t call the cops and have them there in 5 minutes, not that I’d trust them, anyway.

Speaking of pigs, Tom’s sure that whether or not the black bitch works for the courts, she knew the pig (Jerry O) and he told her what to say. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?” he asked.

No. Truthfully, I haven’t wanted to remember that horrid day, and when I was in court I did everything I could not to look at her to keep me from either throwing up right then and there or ripping the snot out of her. Thinking back, though, to what little I was forced to see of them, they did seem pretty chummy and that was quite a speech from such a stupid fuck. She wouldn’t have brains enough to come up with bullshit like that on her own, even though she’s a natural liar. She had to move twice, so she claimed. Why? Because she harassed her other neighbors too, and they ran her out? She never did associate with whites which I got the impression from the get-go she hated, so her fellow black pig pal makes sense. I’m sure he gave her our address, too. I dare her to show up on our property, and truthfully – I hope she does! Anyway, I knew she had to have some kind of connection in order to get such bullshit pushed so far, besides just being black.

“And sweetheart, you’re not here for the journals. You’re here for a letter you were supposed to have sent.”

This is when I was like – a letter?! What letter?! Then we were talking about the stuff the public defender showed us 5 minutes before sentencing that we’d never seen before, remembering the way he tried to hide some of it.

“He was in on it! That mother-fucker was in on it.”

Tom nodded.

I think I was then I vowed never to trust another human being again.

Just how do you expose corrupt pigs, though? Why is it always OK to fuck over Jodi S and get away with it? Is there any justice in this world when it comes to people shitting on me? Is there anyone anywhere that ever fucked me over that’ll end up paying for it? How sweet of God to allow these freeloaders the right to victimize me for years at just a few feet away, then to send them some piggy friend to help do it all over again from a distance. What God’s allowed to be done to me is completely unforgivable. I will never forgive him at this point after 35 years of bullshit. What? Was I their slave master in a former life or something? Is that why he’s punishing me with these black assholes? He really wanted these people to fuck me over good. And get away with it, too. How many more years must this go on before I’m either driven to suicide or driven to run? God, I wish there was a way to wire someone and get that pig to spill his guts on how he coached the fucking black bitch!

All charges were dropped against Lisa, who went to court today and then home. According to Deanna, she told her that she was in for having her 11-year-old niece pose in lingerie for her boyfriend.

Anyway, before she left, Myra tried to pit her against me, but Lisa told her I haven’t said anything mean to her.

Lisa told me she saw Tina, who said to say hi to me, and that she and Bob are having a great time as pen pals.

Espi was on today. I missed her and was so glad she was on. She’s definitely one of my favorites. She and I would be chatting and laughing every other walk. I told her I wanted her for a mom in my next life. She said, “That’d be fine with me, kiddo.”

Kiddo? She’s only 15 years older than me in this life.

Myra wasn’t too happy with her because of the way she sided with me.

I filled Espi in on all the shit that had been going on. She said it made her comfortable that I was alone.

Me too. It’s a shame it can’t stay that way for another 60 days. She also told me Nancy didn’t need to be here, she’s a spoof (I know), and that she’ll probably be gone tomorrow, referring to her as a ringleader.

The phony cunt kissed up to Myra so she’d stop harassing her and so she could join in on the taunts and threats against me, but Myra isn’t buying it anymore. As Mary pointed out to her – all this shit started when Nancy entered the picture. Get it? Nancy + Nancy = trouble.

She came kicking at my door on her hour out but I ignored her, pretending not to hear her because of the radio.

The second time she came kicking, I munched, savoring a candy bar as she was going upstairs, rubbing in what she was missing. She goes, “You’re sick. You really are.”

Sicker than you know, bitch!

Kahn was escorting today. I don’t know why she escorted me from my cell and not M’s entrance, but she did. She seemed like she was in a bad mood. I asked when she’d be back in M Dorm and she said, “Hopefully never.”

I wonder why? Did something happen the last time she was here?

Right after Tom left, I ran into Mary, who had also had a visit. Right away she told me she had nothing to do with what was going on and I assured her that I knew that. I know she, Brandie, Lisa and the people above me have nothing to do with it. It’s Myra, Mindy, Nancy, Peaches and Carol that are causing the trouble. I let Mary know I still like her and always will.

Mary and I were discussing the situation with Hann when we got back. I told her how Myra threatened to cut my tongue out, and Hann goes, “Did you ask her how she plans to do that with no cutting materials?”

I had to laugh at that one!

Hann also pointed out that they were all watching us talk (referring to those in 1 and 4), but I didn’t give a shit.

Mary defended me concerning Nancy, saying how she’s been causing a lot of problems, is using Myra, etc. Mary also said she’d talk some “sense” into Myra, who leaves for prison in about a month, and get her to shut up and quit her childish, asinine antics, but as I told Mary, I don’t give a shit what Myra says/does. I’m not the one with any deep, dark secrets to hide.

As soon as I was locked down after telling Hann some jokes and after she asked me what happened to the little old lady (Ida) who used to complain about everything, Myra and Carol started in with their shit. It may’ve been Peaches too, but as always, it was mostly Myra. So, that was my cue to remind everybody of her wonderful deeds and she was not happy about that at all, frantically yelling, “I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want others to hear it, there’s a new girl here!”

Some anorexic-looking girl who looks like Pat Benatar took Lisa’s place in 4.

Myra was furious earlier with Espi for not sending me to A Tower for the things I was saying. They threatened to grieve her and Espi was like, “Go ahead.” Myra knew Espi was on my side and she also knew that Espi knew I’d done nothing wrong or illegal (she mentioned that book she dreads so much again, spilling out the truth about her that she’s so afraid to face).

I was also right about the toilet flushing getting to her. Whenever she’d yell up to Mindy, I’d start flushing it because she’s so loud and that’s so rude of her, too. She went off on me about it, then broke down in tears after I reminded her yet again that if she wanted me to shut up about her and her dirty little crimes that bad, she knew what to do.

A little while later, Mary called to me and asked me to come to the vent. I did, and she said Myra had something to say to me. Myra then pleaded with me not to mention her kids, she’s not like that, and if I had nothing to do with what Nancy said, I could just say so.

I did say so days ago, but at that point, I was like yeah, yeah, whatever, I wasn’t publishing a book, and I’d be willing to drop it and quit yelling if she’d shut up.

So now my enemies aren’t my enemies anymore and I have mixed emotions about that. It’s nice to have a little more peace and quiet around here, but there goes my extra Keep Out sign that was on the big cell’s doors.

Thanks to Nancy for threatening me at my door at 9:00, I’m in for another day of being exhausted.

God, get this toothless wad of acne with her septic tank breath out of here! Although now she might try to stay here just to harass me. And people say I’m not being punished? Yeah, right! I’m not short either. I just look it.

I heard Myra tell Lisa that Nancy apologized to her.

Obviously, Myra’s too stupid to know that she only did that to get Myra and everyone else off her ass and so she could join them in tormenting me. They just love her now. They can have her! They’re all good for each other.

Nancy and Myra bragged about having my PO Box address. I hope they do write because I will go to the cops, as much as I hate them and have no trust or respect for them. The freeloaders taught me well.

Anyway, I don’t care what people are in for. As long as they respect me, I don’t care if they’re mass murderers.

As far as Mary goes, the best I can tell is that she’s here for neglect because they feel she allowed her daughter to be killed by being too scared to leave the abusive guy she was with. She’s also testifying against him.

Myra’s case is totally different. She and her boyfriend abused and molested her kids. Her boyfriend got 44 years for his part in it. If what Ruby said is true back in A Tower, she let her kids go down on her to please her boyfriend. That’s sick! Totally sick! Hopefully, she’ll get killed in prison. That shit won’t fly there from what I’ve heard. Being in Ad-Seg will be useless to her because other inmates will sign themselves in there just to kill her.

Mindy, another one that’s a pitiful excuse for a human being (this one’s involved in a child pornography ring) said she wants to break my neck.

Mindy, you wouldn’t stand a chance against me, girl, and like the DOs would really give you the chance to try? Right!

Tomaszewski wouldn’t even let me out for underwear/towel exchange till room 1 was locked down. “Slam the door,” she told them, so she could be sure it was locked.

I’ve seen Tomaszewski before, but she’s never worked here since I’ve been here. She’s a mean-looking older lady, but so far I haven’t had any problems with her. No one else likes her, though. She told Nancy and Myra to shut their mouths when they said I needed to go to A Tower.

I learned exactly what buttons to push to shut Myra up when I don’t feel like drowning her shit out with the radio. I had thought that keeping my mouth shut would cause her to get bored with running off at the mouth and not getting any response, but it’s just the opposite. When I got fed up this morning and gave her a piece of my mind concerning child molesters, she got extremely distraught and even more paranoid. She was literally in tears with rage and embarrassment that others were trying to calm her down by telling her not to let me get to her. So now that she knows that every time she dishes shit out she’ll have to take it right back, the child molester may be hesitant about provoking me into airing out her dirty laundry.

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Great. Now the Arizona Republic wants to do an interview with me. I declined, of course. Especially after channel 3 played like they were on my side, only to end up making a fool of me all in the name of entertainment. They may go and slander the fuck out of me now that I refused their interview, though they’d do that anyhow. People hear what they want to hear and believe what they want to believe. Always gotta hype things up, twist things around, and even downright lie. The truth just isn’t exciting enough.

Why 4 months into the sentence, though? If they haven’t forgotten about me by now, maybe they never will. Maybe they’ll be waiting for me at the door when I get out, and even worse, maybe they’ll harass me at home.

Chavez just came on.

I teased the fuck out of Myra when she was on her hour out, saying she could have the “papers” they’re all so afraid of. Then when I made like I was going to slip them under the door only to burst out laughing at her instead, she was furious, threatening to have the sergeant search this room.

Is she that stupid? I could write “Myra’s a sick child molester” a million times and it’s still not illegal. Not yet, anyway. I’m sure Arizona will be the first state to make it illegal, though.

If I’ve got my schedule straight, Nancy’s out first tomorrow, which means I gotta get up at 8:30. Wait till I tease her with commissary. I’ll make like I’m going to slip her a candy bar as a peace offering, then laugh my ass off at her, too.

I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel guilty for torturing these animals. They provoked me and I’ve had all the shit I can take from them. What people just don’t seem to understand is that you can’t fuck with people and not expect to get shit like this in return. They’ve asked for everything I’ve given them. I always try to give what I get, so if they fuck off, I will too, but not until then.

I’m a magnet for leaks even in jail. The rain’s dripping down through the vent and forming a little puddle by the sink. I doubt it’s coming from the sink because it only happens when it rains. That explains why it smelled like rain in here.

Gracie said hi again when she was going up the stairs, and the big girl she’s with asked for books and bread.

Now that I’m standing up to Myra, she’s backing off a bit. Sometimes two wrongs do make a right, so to speak, and sometimes you just can’t turn the other cheek or depend on others to go to bat for you.

Nothing was said for hours, and just when I thought they’d surprise me by keeping their mouths shut, Silvia returned from court. Myra told her she missed it today because I started in with my bullshit, then boy did I shut her up faster than hell by reminding everyone just what she’s all about! They’d still be going on if I’d kept quiet, too. I told her that every time she started, so would I till she finished it. The ball’s in her court.

A few inmates told me a while back that one day I’d be laughing at this shit. Well, I’m already laughing, believe me!

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Dinner left me starving with an inhumanely spicy hot dog, so commissary couldn’t have come on a better night. Their only fuck-up is that they’re colorblind. I checked lipstick and wrote “pink or none,” but what did I get? Same old red stuff. I’ll take the extra tube home. There’s now no longer any dollar limit to how much commissary you can buy. It used to be $65 was all you could order. I guess the jail’s really desperate for money. I usually get $20 – $30 worth of stuff.

I almost laughed loud enough to be heard when Chavez was threatening Myra and her cellies with A Tower for shoving God knows what down the toilet and making it overflow. Just before this, Myra was going wild, louder than hell with her high-pitched obnoxiously girlie laugh, saying how she’s having a nervous breakdown, this jail’s going to kill her, etc. She’s not laughing now, but as usual, hers in the voice I hear most. Always gotta be the center of attention.

Speaking of toilets, I know this has got to piss her off – I start flushing the toilet (these toilets are as loud as Niagara Falls) whenever she yells up through the vents to Mindy.

God, I am sooo bored! Maybe next week I’ll buy the $3 book of crossword puzzles. Maybe there are some word finds in it which I prefer. I’m lousy at crosswords but Tom likes them and I can always bring home what I don’t do.

Poor, poor Nancy all alone up there with nothing to eat. Well, if you hadn’t been dumb enough to threaten me, you’d have gotten something for the pen, you stupid shit (although what she wanted was ridiculous for a pen she never paid for)!

Her stupidity did me a favor in the end. I really was fed up with her and we really needed to be separated. I’m just glad I could stop her from ripping up my shit like she started to and that Chavez had perfect timing because I’d be looking at an assault charge right now for sure and I’d be hungry as all hell, too. I never would’ve been able to keep a lid on my fists if she had fucked with my stuff.

I’m up early and surprisingly not so tired for someone who only slept 4-5 hours. Guess my body’s getting used to this shit, although I may nap later. I’m amazed I slept through the tent doors slamming. Sounds like bombs exploding in here!

Nancy and next door haven’t been out yet, but 4 has. All they’ve done so far is stomp real loud going up the stairs to lock down once their hour was up. They won’t go yelling shit till late afternoon – early evening.

Wait till I tell Helen I’m not so likable after all!

Last night I heard Chavez say, “How is it against the law?” when she was passing Nancy’s door. I’ll bet you anything that was over her bitching about my journal.

Nine weeks (63 days) left of this shit!

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Well, it looks like I have a friend upstairs. Gracie, the one headed for prison. She looks a bit butchy but seems nice. She came to my door and said hi and asked me how I was, then asked for bread. I don’t know if she or her celly would make good cellies, though. They beg for bread constantly, so that may mean they’d beg for commissary, too. They’re also religious because I see them meet with the religious lady, and those are sometimes pushy. However, at this point I’d rather a religious beggar than some psycho who’s calm one minute, laughing the next, then crying, then bitching, and so on and so forth. Speaking of a certain psycho – it looks like it lost its hour out. I was first at 8:30. They don’t start doing hour outs before 8:00–8:30. After me came 4, 5 and 1, but no 3.

Of course Chambers couldn’t be on today when I really could use a little chat with her, but Brea’s cool enough. She knows what’s going on and reassured me that I’d be OK. I hope so! You never know in this jungle.

Wouldn’t it be funny if Arajo was on tonight? Arajo does not like Nancy and she’d be worth mentioning the pen and blankets to.

I thought about scribbling a threatening note from all of them to me, but I know I’d be the one to go down for it, so I’m not going to bother. I’d rather ignore these people as long as they’ll let me. I’m surprised room 1 wasn’t at my door, and I haven’t heard any vent shit yet, but it’s early.

I don’t know if Brea knows about the shit I’ve been getting from 1 and 4, but she knew Nancy threatened me, so Chavez did keep her word about informing others.

She offered me a book earlier and smiled and waved before she left.

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Gibb is on now. I guess I don’t have to worry about spreading the word. The DOs are all telling each other. I saw Brea gesture towards this room, and Gibb said she knew about it.

I just dread my next celly! If they can’t shut up – fine. If they beg – fine. I just don’t want some moody nutjob judging shit about me they don’t even know. It just ain’t hip to be a homemaker in this day and age, but I’ll be damned if I’ll kiss society’s ass and mold myself into what it thinks I should be. I am who I am. Period. If you don’t like me, then don’t have anything to do with me.

Tom feels it’s not important who gets the money, as long as one of us gets it. His attitude is – so what if he gets the money and the groceries, as long as one of us gets it? And so what if I do the laundry and the cleaning, as long as one of us does it? Most people don’t feel that way, though. In today’s world, you don’t cook, you don’t clean, and you both work, gay or straight, male or female.

I feel like a ticking time bomb here. There’s only so far I can be pushed and so long I can keep a leash on my temper before it explodes. If I get threatened again by a celly, my temper’s going to blow, I’m going to beat the shit out of them, and it won’t matter who’s bigger or with more muscle. I have muscle too, on top of a killer temper and that’s often all it takes. That, and being underestimated.

It’s ironic how Rule told me to lie about being threatened, then I come here and get threatened for real! Must be my payback for threatening Ida. I figured it’d happen sooner or later. It does to everyone in here, just about.

This cell is colder. Lower-tier cells always are.

I have my head where it’s just a couple of feet from the desk to give me a little more privacy from the stairs, figuring – what the fuck? Even though the next bitch will be stepping right by my head in order to climb up to the top bunk, she’s going to be waking me up anyway, so it doesn’t matter where I lay. I can sleep through most outside sounds, but I can’t adapt to sounds inside the cell.

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What the hell? What’s Lisa doing smiling and waving to me? She’s not nearly as bad as her cellies, but isn’t she supposed to be one of my enemies? Well, I waved back. I can see right through the underside of the stairs when people go up and down.

I did snitch on Nancy, after all. Gibb found the news interesting when I told her what goodies she had. I don’t know if she found them, but she took one of the mattresses out of that room.

It’s obvious that the DOs are on my side. If it weren’t for their support and encouragement on top of Tom’s – forget it! I could never survive this zoo.

Gibb was telling me that the reason I’m probably getting it worse from Myra and Mindy is that this was their little cell, but that’s not just it. They’re pissed because I told the rude religious lady to beat it because we were starving after our food was sitting there getting cold for a half-hour, and because of Nancy’s yelling shit at them while I was unfortunate enough to be her celly at the time. They consider me to be a part of it, even though I never said a word.

Boy, are Nancy and Myra really paranoid about the journals! I would be too if I were them. Myra’s already threatening to have her layer slap me with a lawsuit.

Gee, I’m really scared! These people are so fucked, so immature and so stupid that it’s almost funny.

I know it’s raining outside because the radio told me so, but why does it smell like rain in here? Oh well. It’s better than bleach.

---

Wow! That’s 4 edible dinners in a row. Tomorrow’s weenies for sure, but that’s OK. It’s commissary night.

I hope Tom’s not going to be overwhelmed with the way I’ve been writing like crazy. I have nothing else to do, and it’s my only real way to cope and vent all this shit. Thank God we moved. I can just imagine how many of these envelopes would’ve ended up at the wrong place!

I stupidly gave Nancy our PO Box address when she had me feeling all sorry for her for being alone (now I know why she’s alone). She’ll probably never write, but if she does, since I know just what kind of letter she’d write, should I trash it without reading it? Read it, then trash it? Or go the freeloader way and run to the piggies with it?

I’ll probably be an adult about it and ignore mail I’m not interested in. She can’t make me read anything I don’t want to.

Everyone was laughing, including myself, at how Gibb pissed her off. Nancy thinks I owe her “rent” for using the pen the 2-3 days I used it, and she was bitching to Gibb that I owe her commissary. Gibb was like, “That’s your problem. No borrowing, trading or lending commissary.”

When Gibb asked me about it and I told her I didn’t owe her shit, she said she didn’t think so.

This next part, I must admit is funny. Nancy yelled down from her room when I went to get my dinner that I still owe her. Then when she came down to dump her tray she yelled, “I want those journals! I want them, OK?”

Yeah, I’ll just hand them right over, bitch.

Like most cells, this one’s got its pros and cons. It’s the second room to get served chow instead of the last, it’s further from the TV (although I sometimes wish they’d crank it up and drown out these animals), and a quicker walk in the mornings for clothes exchanges. I don’t even have to take the time to put my shoes on. I only do when I’m on the upper tier because these grille stairs are a killer to bare feet.

I’ll finish up this page and get it safely into the tower by saying – I want to go home! Fuck the fucking freeloaders that put me here!

Another day of fewer than 8 hours of sleep with a zillion interruptions. Nancy woke me up 3 times. The first two times were for her meds and to go to the bathroom, so I can’t blame those on her. The third time, though, she was tossing fiercely and yawning and sighing really loud, like so many people here seem to do. At least it wasn’t too early when she decided to get all fidgety. It was coming up on 10:00 and our hour out. I didn’t say anything to Nancy, although I’m sure she could tell by my attitude that I didn’t appreciate her noisiness waking me up. There’s no excuse for this shit. I also didn’t say anything because I knew it wouldn’t do me any good and it was her birthday. She also filled out a form to get out of here. So, she’ll be leaving soon and then I’ll have to deal with someone else’s shit for a while. Fortunately, someone gave her a couple of books that she says are her kind, so that should keep her quiet and out of my hair till she leaves.

If I’d known better upon coming into this jail, as Nancy did, I’d have complained of back pain at Medical to get a lower bunk slip. Hopefully, I’ll never have to go to Medical again, so I won’t bother. And besides, I’m two-thirds of the way through my time.

Now the two big cells really hate us! Chambers, who I’m now kind of attracted to, was on yesterday. At one point, she gave Mindy a pair of panties to give to Nancy, which she slid under the door. Nancy was pissed that they were being dragged on the floor and Mindy was threatening her, saying that unfortunately, she didn’t have the keys to the cell, etc.

Chambers came up and told us all that if we said anything more, we’d be rolled out to A Tower (wouldn’t hurt my feelings all that badly).

To back up a bit, I was just waking up and turned towards the door to see who was on when I heard keys jingling. Just as I did this, Chambers passed by, then she doubled back and said hi and asked how I was. “Just getting up,” I told her.

How nice of her to go back just to say hi to me! I don’t know what it is with this white, blond-haired, blue-eyed exception, but she’s so cute! Actually, I think her eyes are gray and her hair is a light sandy brown. Also, she’s only 18 and I’m never attracted to anyone that young. I like the 30s-40s group.

Later, Chambers and I exchanged more jokes. I told her one, and she told me about this couple who was expecting a baby. When the woman went into labor, the doctor explained that there was this new machine available to put some of the pain onto the husband and take some off the wife. So the doctor started by setting the machine at 10% and the woman felt better, yet the guy felt fine. The doctor upped it to 20% and still, the guy felt OK while the woman felt even better. At 30% the guy still felt OK, so he told the doctor to go ahead and up the machine to 100%. “You sure?” the doctor asked. The guy said he was sure and the doctor upped the machine to 100%. The woman had the baby very easily and the guy never felt an ounce of pain. Then when they got home, they found the mailman dead on their doorstep.

So now two DOs know I like them and another knows about it. She knows about Palma, anyway. Yeah, Chambers was going by when I called to her from up on my bed, but she didn’t hear me. Nancy was at the door, though, and she yelled out, “Hey, Chambers! Little Miss-I’ve-Got-A-Crush-On-You has a question for you.”

This is when I asked her age. Chambers blushed but came back anyway. I wasn’t as embarrassed as most people would’ve been, but I was caught off guard and laughing my ass off at the same time. It was funny if you ask me, and I do like those I like to know it, although they usually never do. I knew Nancy was the type to say something like that, but I didn’t know she was going to say it at that very moment.

I guess she wasn’t offended because she still talked with me and smiled at me, as usual. Maybe next time she’s on, I ought to say I’m so very very sorry about what Nancy said, just to see what she says. I hope she’s on tomorrow! I don’t know, though, if I could call this a crush. It’s not like I picture us in intimate situations. I just like her and think she’s cute, that’s all. She’s a little too young and not attractive enough for a girlfriend.

---

Chavez is on now. She’s one of the ones I can tell is about to do a walk before she even leaves the tower, because I hear the door separating the pods unlock by the controls in the tower. Some unlock them with their keys as they’re going through, and others do it up front from the tower.

Nancy was reading, then dozing, then playing with herself, and now she’s bleeding. She says she just finished her period too, and thinks she may be having a miscarriage.

God get rid of a crackhead’s baby? That’ll be a first! She already has 3 boys in Indiana, though, so he didn’t do it soon enough. Why he gives kids to the wrong people isn’t my only question. Why give them to people who are going to do a significant amount of time and not be able to be there for them?

Nancy got Chavez to call Medical for her, but she’s totally lost it. God, I want her out of here! I’m sick of her moods. I understand it’s her birthday, she may be miscarrying, and she’s in jail, but that gives her no right to snap at me and take it out on me. She’s lucky she can take me or else I’d be beating the shit out of her.

Nancy’s not pregnant. She had a pregnancy test twice in the last week and they were both negative. She doesn’t believe it, but stress and age makes us irregular. She says a tubal pregnancy wouldn’t show up in a pregnancy test and that it’s not normal for her to bleed after a period. Well, it wasn’t normal for me to spot a week or two before my period. Now it is. Still, I want her out of here!

Nancy and I had an interesting talk with Lopez last night. Lopez said she did remember to say hi to Palma for me and that lately her week has consisted of A Tower, Medical and Escort. I wish she’d escort when Tom visits because then Tom could probably see her.

What I meant by when I said a DO knew about my crush on Palma was that Nancy told Lopez I have a crush on her. Lopez didn’t seem the least bit shocked. Crushes in this place are plentiful, anyway. There’s got to be tons of them with the hots for Palma. I can see where some would describe her as a little too masculine and even mean-looking with her distinct features and jet-black hair and eyes, but lots of people get off on that, and she’s still feminine enough at the same time. I realize more and more that I don’t seem to be as into the ultra-feminine scene as I used to be. Tom would probably say she was harsh-looking and ugly, but most women who have ever been attracted to other women would drool over her.

I can already smell the weenies I figured we’d be getting tonight because the last two dinners were OK.

M202

And now I’m down in 202, the least private 2-cell. At least it is a 2-cell and at least I’m alone, even though my next nightmare will be rolled in any second.

No, Nancy didn’t leave Ad-Seg yet, but she did threaten me. As I figured she would, she denied it to Chavez. And this is the same person who said she’d never lay a hand on me and that fighting doesn’t solve anything. The same person that wanted to lick my pussy – ugh!

The reason I didn’t get into it with her is that I didn’t want to get an assault charge or lose my visitation or commissary. Also, I knew it was my ticket to being alone, if only for a few days, even if it meant losing the pen. I just wanted to get away from her and her moods! Lastly, as tough as I’d like to think I can be, and despite all the cellies I’ve had that I could beat up and that I admit to bullying around a little, I don’t think this one was one I could’ve beaten. It bothers me, either way, to be forced to cower down to her, in a sense, to get what I want, but that’s life sometimes. It wasn’t easy to do, either. It took every ounce of strength to keep myself from hurling myself at her, and if this had happened somewhere else and under different circumstances where I had nothing to lose, I would’ve in a heartbeat, whether or not I thought she could take me.

Chavez’s timing was perfect. She was on her way by just as the little fuck was threatening to rip up every journal page with her name on it if I didn’t do it myself. At first Chavez was like, “But you guys have been together almost a week.” Then she looked at Nancy and said, “Well, you have made threats before.” Then she told me to roll up and to go down to 2. Not fair, if you ask me, since Nancy was the one that made the threat and she was the one with the lower tier/lower bunk slip, but life isn’t fair and I wasn’t about to argue. I just wanted to get away from the madwoman!

Nancy became more and more unpredictable. One minute we’d be engaged in an intelligent conversation and the next she was either crying or bitching about something. Her moods were unbelievable. This was bordering on schizophrenia without the evil voices.

I don’t remember what started it. Something about her insisting I was too lazy to work. Farming ain’t “real” work and neither is homemaking, she said. Also, “You’re using Tom, who works really hard for you.”

Then she starts talking to herself for the first time, telling herself to shut up.

My response to that was, “Yes, why don’t you for a change and not judge those you don’t know or who live differently than you do.”

That’s when she threatened to yank me off my bunk and beat me up, telling me that when I go to A Tower, she’d follow me there, I’m worthless, etc.

Believe me, I’m so fucking fed up with these sick fucks here that a part of me does want to go to A Tower and I don’t care if this is considered to be a luxury dorm or not. But I don’t want to give up being in a 2-cell either, even if those damn tent doors do sound like earthquakes in here.

I knew my luck would run out.

The good thing about having the whole pod threaten me through the vents like they’ve been doing is that I have the luxury of being on the bottom again. They’re not going to stick any of these people in here with them threatening to kill me, so I don’t have to worry about being moved in with them so someone else can have my lower bunk. The only ones that aren’t in on this shit are Lisa, Mary, Brandie, and the two that are in 5. It’s mostly Myra and Mindy, as usual. I’m letting each DO that comes on know about this shit, too.

Chavez had yelled at them to shut up. For a second, the thought of hauling off at them verbally myself appealed to me, but you know what? I really don’t want to know they exist. They’re not worth my time and energy, so I tune them out with the radio. I could snitch on Nancy for having 3 blankets and a pen, but these people aren’t worth snitching on any more than they’re worth yelling at.

I learned a lesson tonight – never tell anyone in jail if you’re keeping a journal! In fact, every 5 sheets of paper, even if it’ll be a little more expensive since I can fit more than that in one envelope, will be mailed out. In fact, I may even do daily mailings. And on third shift only when no one’s out that could snatch it like I snatched and tore up that tank order when they butted into my trying to call Tom last night, which I’ll get to later.

The losers in the big cell must’ve heard Nancy saying she wanted everything with her name ripped up (doesn’t she know all I’d have to do is rewrite the shit?) because they were talking about it. Until I tuned them out with my radio, I heard something about how I can’t publish it because I didn’t ask for their permission. I most certainly could if I changed names. What’s the matter with these kiddy lickers? Afraid of the truth being written/known? Do they really have that many dirty secrets to hide? Obviously so, for them to be this paranoid.

I got a kick out of how right after Myra called me a crybaby, she started crying and whining about how jail’s getting to her.

Yeah, there are a lot of hypocrites in here.

I hate this cell’s location because of how it’s downstairs and right under the see-through stairs. Not much privacy, but private as hell compared to the big ones. This room has no trap door, for some reason. The vent was already blocked with a brown commissary bag, so I didn’t have to deal with the hassle of blocking that. I like the sink better in this cell. The water gets hot fast and the stream of water arcs up higher, giving it more pressure.

I was surprised we got 3 OK dinners in a row. A burrito with rice, bread, veggies and a chocolate cupcake. It seems that all we get is chicken, beef or chicken patties, burritos and hot dogs. We never get anything like fish, macaroni or spaghetti.

The lunatic upstairs said that chewing on the wax wrapper of the cupcake was like chewing gum, and surprisingly, it was. It was better than Styrofoam, but nothing like the real thing.

About last night’s shit from 4 while I was still with Nancy – they wouldn’t let me ignore them any more than the freeloaders would. They all sang and yelled really loud so my voiceprint wouldn’t match when I was trying to call Tom. I told Lopez - either open the door and let me have a go at them one by one (believe me I was mad enough at that point to take every single one of them) or shut them up somehow. Nancy and I then filled her in on how Chambers said they were to be rolled up and sent to A Tower if they kept their shit up. By then it was chow time, and after talking with them and us, she let me out to make the call, keeping the tower monitor on, but they didn’t dare utter a word.

I wonder how Palma would’ve handled it if she’d been the one to be on that night and not Chavez? Would she have moved me, or would she have handled it the way she handled my not getting along with Tina, even though we never threatened each other, and said she’d only move me after she let us get into it, then maced and written us up? I hope not! I doubt it, though, at this point because now she knows and likes me, and this is a different situation.

I am so, so tired. I just want to go home! I want out! How can God do this to me?! And why?!

Anyway, I better try to get some sleep before the next bitch with a schizophrenic attitude comes in to steal what little sleep and peace I can get around here.

Talked with Tom at Mary’s house. Boy, was it a relief to hear his voice! I knew I didn’t see him because of the security override and I knew I’d have been notified if anything bad had happened, but hearing his voice made a world of difference as far as calming my nerves was concerned.

He said everyone was told to leave and all he heard was a couple of DOs saying 100 was rocking. I’m sure they were referring to the hole which is A100. Could’ve been B100, but I doubt it. It certainly wasn’t M100. That’s Alpha. M300 is juvi, and we’re M200. “The Princess Dorm,” as it’s commonly referred to.

“Are you going to tell your husband I’m coming on to you?” Nancy asked me.

“Well, of course. I tell him everything.”

No, she’s not going to rape me or anything like that. She’s just horny as hell and wishes we could take care of each other. Sorry, Nancy, I’m just not attracted to you. That’s very complimentary of her to tell me how much she likes my “porcelain doll” face and my lips that she says she can imagine kissing, but she doesn’t cut it for me. She just doesn’t turn me on one bit. Also, although I know we could time our activities without getting caught, it’d feel weird to have sex in jail.

Nancy said she recognizes Tom from his picture and that she saw him cruising the Mesa area looking for hookers and that she ripped him off when he thought she was a hooker. Right! And I ripped off Gloria Estefan after she went down on me after thinking I was really Linda Ronstadt. Why would a guy who’s hardly ever horny anyway, go all the way to Mesa for a piece of ass? Not that I’d give a shit if he did as long as I was always his #1. Nancy and I go back and forth between fighting and getting along and she said this when she was pissed at me, so that alone tells me something right there.

She’s taken to begging more and when I put my foot down and let her know she wasn’t going to take advantage of me, she called me stingy and was even going to have Lopez put her down in 2 which is empty. That’s how it is around here when you don’t want to end up spending a fortune on all your cellies and be responsible for them; you get called stingy, but she can call me that all she wants. She’s not getting anything else from me.

She bit my dead batteries, saying that makes them last longer because it condenses them. It seemed to help, but only through a few songs.

She asked Lopez about the racket behind us. They’re setting up new female and male tents (N and O). O’s going to be the women’s tents, and Lopez says she connects the word ovaries to O so she remembers that O’s going to be for women. A and B towers are female, C and D are males, E is women, F and G are males, H is male tents, I is female tents, J, K, L and M are all female.

There’s a security override in effect right now. I hope Tom isn’t here yet waiting for me!

Starting on the 26th, Tom will be able to sign up for a whole half-hour visit if he wants to. We get a total of 1½ hours a week, but we were only allowed visitors for a half hour at a time. Not anymore. He can see me for an hour on Tuesday if he wants, and a half hour on Thursday.

Jill came by to ask people if they wanted to stay or not. I wonder why she never asks me. My 90 days are up on 3/7, and I’ll put in a tank requesting to remain in Ad-Seg for the duration of my sentence.

Nancy returned at 3:00. It was great to be able to sleep till 1:00, even if I had to get up for clothes exchange twice. The last time I slept late and woke up on my own was when Ida went to court.

As predicted, Nancy will be here for at least 60 days. It looks like, according to her public pretender, she’s going to get 3 years for the violation and about a year to run concurrently with that for fighting that pig.

Nancy said she was sure she fucked up her friend’s address, then found it on some paper, so I gave her another envelope and a piece of paper. She says she’ll pay me back. I’m not worried about it. It’s cheaper than bugging Tom to call her.

Tom said he might be here earlier, but I guess not because it’s already close to 4:00.

I wish I had more to write about since I don’t want to listen to music and miss hearing the call for my visit (Nancy’s asleep now, so she couldn’t listen for me).

---

I’m scared shitless right now, even though Mena and Nancy say I shouldn’t be. Tom never made it to visit me today. There was a security override and no reports of car accidents, according to Mena, yet I’m still worried. Mena let me call home at 8:20, but there was no answer. I hope to God he was asleep and unable to hear the phone! I’d die if anything happened to that man! Mena says I’d have been notified by now if anything had happened, but being the worrywart I am, all kinds of possibilities run through my head, like what if he’s in that house dead from a heart attack and no one knows yet?

A part of me almost feels like telling him that as much as I love seeing him, just write till I get out and don’t visit because it drives me crazy with worry when he’s late or doesn’t show up.

Because I slept so well today, I know I won’t get shit for sleep tomorrow. Nancy crashed after dinner and I know she’ll be up early and I know she’ll wake me up, too.

Half the pod hates us now. Everyone in the big cell next door, and probably the one downstairs too, isn’t too happy with us. Nancy’s considering signing herself out to the dorms because she can’t stand being with so many kiddy molesters. She was yelling out the door at Myra, then we were both yelling at the religious quacks for holding up dinner when we were starving. It was totally rude of them.

Mena came in and lectured Nancy about judging Myra.

When we finally got our dinner, Mindy, Lisa, Silvia and Carol next door, yelled at us for yelling at the religious ladies. The thing they were particularly mad at was my telling them to beat it because we were hungry. They yelled at Nancy for that and I let Mena know that I was the one that had said that.

“Tell them,” she told me.

So I went up to their door and tried to tell them, but before I could get more than a few words out, Mindy was screaming for me to get away from the door, slapping at it in a threatening way. That’s when Mena yelled, “Hey!” and opened their door. She yelled at them, saying they were just as bad and told them all to shut up.

If anyone has to hate me while I’m here, I’m glad it’s those in big cells so I don’t have to worry about getting stuck in there with them. I’d hope they’d be threatening me if someone tried to put me in with them, but if they didn’t, I’d either remind the DO that they did earlier or I’d do the threatening myself. Again, a part of me wants to go back to A, but I don’t want to have to have 2 cellies.

Ad-Seg can be so crazy! Nobody fights like Ad-Seg girls do.

Nancy’s at Medical now getting an inhaler for her own asthma. I searched through her stuff to see if she had the juice packet I’m missing and I didn’t find it. She either drank it without my noticing, or more than likely, commissary fucked up and shorted me one.

Some DO I’ve never seen before that was breaking for Laborde, asked me what I’ve been doing. “Now that’s a stupid question,” I said to the DO. “What do you think I’ve been doing? Playing with myself?”

As always, I enjoyed my visit with Tom yesterday, but was sad to hear Cocoa died. All that’s left now are Gizzy and Freddie, but I’m sure they’ll be gone when I get home.

I told him I wanted to reapply for disability even if the PO were a sweetheart to save as many of the $40 monthly fees as possible, but he said we’d still have to pay that.

Figures. The freeloader always wins.

He started planting vegetables. Things like peas, asparagus, tomatoes, cauliflower and more.

Vasquez was on yesterday and the day before. That woman is “the bomb,” as they say. She’s so cool. She told us a little about herself and gave us extra lunches on both days.

She was telling us that part of their training at the academy requires them to be maced with pepper spray and stun-gunned so they know what it’s like.

Ugh! I can’t imagine going through that shit!

Yesterday was funny because I woke Carol up when I was chatting with Silvia, Mindy and Lisa. She was pissed! Good, because she woke Marilyn and I up so I owed her one.

Lisa said she sleeps all night and is up all day. Forget it. I don’t want her as a celly.

I slept better last night and feel a bit more comfortable with Nancy now that I’m getting to know her.

Both sides of the original earbuds are shorting. So I tried the newer pair again and both sides work! Guess I can hold off on getting another pair.

---

Merci beaucoup, Nancy! Nancy swiped the pen I’m writing with from Medical. It’s so nice to be able to write with a pen again, although it’ll be even nicer to type on my computer!

I almost feel guilty for telling her I’d have Tom call her friend for her to have her remove her long-distance blocks, when in fact I never even gave the number to Tom. I didn’t think she’d be here long, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized she would be here for a while. She was arrested on a probation violation which escalated to assault when she fought that cop, so now she’ll be bound over for trial unless she pleads guilty, but even if she pled guilty, she’ll be here for at least a month. Maybe even a few. She’ll know more when she talks to her public defender, or as she more appropriately puts it – public pretender.

We’re hiding the pen inside her mattress. There’s a hole in the seam and we jam it in there which is a place not even Palma would look. We agreed that if we get caught with it, the person it’s on at the time has to take the fall for it while the other says they know nothing about it. So if I get caught with it I’ll say I found it on the dayroom floor. I’d probably get on restriction for 10 days.

Arajo’s turned out to be OK, though her liking me is far from mutual. Yeah, she’s given me the eye a couple of times. I came back from visitation crying and she asked me what was wrong. I told her I still had 68 more days, and she said that’ll go by real fast and told me a little bit about when she was in the army and it was her first time away from home when she was 26.

I had warned Nancy that Arajo would treat her like shit till she got to know her, but Nancy might’ve sunk her chances. She had the balls to ask the 6’, 200+ pound bull butch if she was a butch, and Arajo was not happy about it. Nancy had asked her earlier about going to Medical for a breathing treatment. As I expected, Arajo wasn’t the least bit sympathetic any more than Johnson was when I tried to tell her that no, I wasn’t just having an anxiety attack as she insisted, but was having trouble breathing too, and needed to go to Medical for an inhaler. She asked Nancy, “Why are you having trouble breathing? You’re talking.” Then she looked up at me questioningly and I just shrugged. Nancy still insisted she needed to go and Arajo said she’d call Medical, but we knew she never did. Anyway, Arajo said in response to her question, “For someone who’s having trouble breathing, you sure do ask rude questions.”

I must admit it was pretty funny, and Nancy was like, “Well, it’s an honest question!”

Although Nancy and I have had a few laughs, I still don’t think she’s all that good of a celly. I wish she’d leave or something. Later, when Arajo caught me crying again after Nancy had fallen asleep, she came in and asked what was wrong and I told her I was homesick. I also mouthed, “I don’t like her,” and pointed below me. She’d said she’d tell the next shift, whatever that means. I mean, what are they going to do? Move me tonight? Or move Nancy?

It turned out that Rylel was on next. She asked me how I was. By this time, although I was exhausted, I felt better. I told her she could shut our lights off. I crashed around 1:00 and got up at 9:30. We both slept later. She napped for a little while today, too.

Nancy has court tonight and was a little wound up, so she got off while I stayed up on my bunk so she could have some privacy. She loves to play with herself from what she tells me. She loves women, too. Like most people, she likes equals. I like opposites. She likes white girls around her size. I usually prefer Hispanic, Indian, or something dark that’s bigger than me. I like them to be at least 5’ 3”, preferably taller. The tallest woman I’ve been with was 5’ 6”.

Nancy likes redheads. Yuck! Redheads suck. The only good-looking redhead is Johnson, but I’m thinking of becoming one myself when I get out. Not bright, fiery red, but a deep, dark coppery red.

Nancy and I were singing earlier. She’s actually not that bad.

She made me a paper box (I put the aspirin the DOs pass out in it) out of magazine pages. She made the box out of a picture of ballerinas I picked out, and the lid with a picture of a girl in a bikini. We were both drooling over that body! The flat stomach, the straight, thin thighs…

“At least you still have that hourglass shape,” Nancy told me.

Yeah, a rather exaggerated one. I’m about 36-28-36. I miss my old measurements of 33-24-33.

Nancy loves licking pussy, she told me, but that’s mostly because she’s the dominant one in relationships, unlike me. It’s something I’ve never done before or even cared to do. I’ve been the receiver as far as that goes.

Right now, though, I’d be content just to have Palma come in here and give me a hug and a kiss and chat with me for a while. Her undivided attention would be sufficient enough since I can’t just go home now.

We’ve been judging the DOs. She said she’d do Wilder.

How boring.

We both agree Kahn’s OK and that Espi’s one gorgeous 50-year-old, though I wouldn’t want them. She thinks Bryant’s gay, but I never would’ve pegged her for being gay.

I totally dig Johnson. She’s not that butchy. She still has long hair. Yes, you can tell she’s gay, but she’s not dyky like Arajo is.

We were debating whether or not Palma’s part Indian. I don’t think she’s part Indian. I think she’s part black. Especially because of the kinky hair. Indians don’t have kinky hair.

Anyway, if you swipe something like a pen in jail and you don’t intend to use it much, it becomes money. Nancy said she wanted to sell it and I told her I’d buy it from her. (it’s full) I’m buying her a few bucks worth of treats, but she says she’ll share them with me anyway. She might get money on her books soon because she remembered her friend’s address. Good. Then Tom’s not calling won’t matter. I’m keeping the pen under my mattress where it’s out of view, but if Palma’s ever on again, or if I do go back to A, I’ll keep it on me.

Fucking LaBorde noticed my extra towel because I was dumb enough to forget to cover it, so there goes my pillow again. I’m getting pretty known for extra towels and rubber bands. I get them – they take them. They know just what to look for.

Got a letter from Tom. It was shorter because he wanted to get those doll pictures out to me. So now I have a good variety to show people. He said he’d look for jokes online. That’d be cool.

A part of me misses A Tower. I know Palma’s been there way more often than she’s been here, there’s the mice, of course, and as funny as it may sound, I slept better there than here.

Nancy is not turning out to be a very good celly. She doesn’t ramble on non-stop at the mouth, and she doesn’t beg too much, but she doesn’t try very hard to be quiet when I’m sleeping. She slept on and off for nearly 24 hours and got up around 7:00. She woke me up by roughly opening the Styrofoam breakfast trays. Her movements, in general, are quick and rough like she just doesn’t give a shit. She’s just like Carolyn, Monday and Deanna – very self-absorbed.

She insisted she tried to be quiet and didn’t mean to wake me up. Then she goes, “You’re the one that was up all night, not me.”

I said, “Oh, so that means you can’t respect my schedule because I’m a night person and you’re not?”

“How come you can rustle papers and shit like that, but I can’t?”

“Nancy, you told me it didn’t bother you, so I assumed it was OK. As soon as you tell me it bothers you, I’ll stop doing that while you’re asleep.”

She had told me that all she does is sleep and to make all the noise I wanted to while she slept because she’s a heavy sleeper, but just like with most phony people, she’s obviously not what she said she was. Now the radio even bothers her, but just while she’s trying to fall asleep, she says. After that, it doesn’t matter. So I keep it turned down till I hear her breathing like she’s sleeping.

Another thing is that when she first came in here she was constipated which is great when you have to live cramped up in such a tiny room, but lately she’s turned into a regular little shitaholic! She’s grossing me the fuck out, and I swear – if this bitch doesn’t quit her shit, I’m gonna plug up that butt hole of hers really good with a pad or something!