Although I was up late last night (I scared Rylel when I asked her the time), I was up by 8:30 because of all that was going on – my hour out, which was too early, the coffee cart, clothes exchange.

After I got my pants I realized they were torn on one side from the hip to the knee.

“Sexy,” said Atkinson, who’s calling the laundry department for new ones.

Although we agreed she owed me 6 envelopes for the lipstick I gave her, Teresa only gave me one this week because she needed to write to her boys and job.

A new girl came in late last night. Rylel put her in with Teresa and Nancy.

Jackson was here again this morning. I don’t have any bad vibes at the moment, but there’s not really much she could do to me other than put me where I don’t want to be till I can get moved.

Quickly, before they could be taken like the last time, I wrote letters to Helen, Ida and Mom. I’m sure they’re thinking the same thing – how could this petty bullshit make two sentences on the back page, let alone a novel on the front? Like I said, it must’ve been some letter.

After taking the night to think about it, I decided to grieve the truth about Kahn rather than be like most lying, exaggerating, vindictive assholes. I was going to add that she swore at me and trashed my stuff, but I don’t want to stoop to society’s level and be like 90% of these people are. So even though I know sergeants always side with their own, I said she was rude and disrespectful. Her screaming at me was uncalled for and I don’t want her working M Dorm while I’m still here if she’s going to be hostile like that and unable to control herself.

I know I’m risking Kahn spiting me for this by throwing me in the big tank that she knows I hate, or something like that, or even giving me a bogus write-up, but it’s a chance I’ll take. Then again, maybe she won’t do anything since she knows grievances can’t hurt her. Someone could write that a DO tried to beat them up or get it on with them and they’ll still ignore it and side with the DO. That’s just how it is unless you’ve got large groups of people complaining about the same person, but even then it’s unlikely that any action would be taken.

Will that fucking mouth next door shut up! Ugh! That mouth of Myra’s goes on and on and on! It never stops unless it’s asleep! I’m so fucking sick of that fucking trap flapping! It was barking about Glenn at intake making her cry and now it’s bitching about her lawyer. I swear this bitch is going to need dentures when I get through rearranging that mouth!

Mena’s on now.

I have to stop for a while. I can’t write to the tune of that mouth.

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I asked Mena if Atkinson told her about the ripped pants like she said she would.

She didn’t.

It figures.

Everyone lies to me! Nobody can be trusted. Nobody.

Mena wasn’t as friendly towards me as she was to some of the others when she came on. I’m sure I can thank the Arizona Republic for that.

Even Mary and the others knew about the article. I don’t know if some other DO showed it to them or what and I didn’t ask.

Mary wants a copy of the journaling I’ve done since being back in M Dorm. Not while she’s still at this jail, I told her.

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I’m so bored and depressed right now, so I guess I’ll write. Tomorrow’s when they cut our food down to two meals a day. One at 8 AM, then at 6 PM. I’m surprised they’re not going to give us the first meal at 6 AM. I suppose 3rd shift will be glad they’ll no longer have to deal with serving chow. I’ll be glad I’ll no longer be woken up at 5 AM.

We’re still getting the same shit; just divided up differently, although we won’t get things like eggs, cereal or waffles. We’ll still get 8 pieces of bread in total which is ridiculous. Still 80% starch. Brunch is supposed to be something like 6 pieces of bread, 3 pieces of meat (they should give us more meat than bread), a small package of crackers, and 2 pieces of fruit.

Got a letter from Ida asking about the meal cut, and something about a power outage for a few days that must’ve been hell.

Don’t know what that’s all about.

She says she’s been eating like a pig, taking a computer class, and she asked about Misery and Julia.

She said her brother-in-law in Germany is sick, and she may spend the hot summer, which she hates, in Germany helping her sister out.

She was encouraging me to hang in there, saying I was almost out of here, etc., but right now I feel as if time’s standing still.

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Hot dogs, hot dogs, hot dogs!!! I want to smash every fucking one that exists, shove them one by one down the jail commander’s throat, down Joe’s throat, down the freeloader’s, pig’s, Public defender’s and judge’s throats – I’m fucking sick of it!

When Mena let me out to dump my trash I said, “Please tell me the fact that I still haven’t gotten the pants isn’t personal because of the slanderous article.” She got all defensive at first but assured me I’d get them (I know she’s full of shit, though). She said that’s the shift runner’s job, and they’ve been busy. She also insists she knows nothing about the article.

Sarah, from what I heard, just came into M Dorm and was put next door in 1. She’s a pitiful-looking one! She really looks like a criminal. Bone thin from drugs and lots of ugly tats. She doesn’t creep me out like Charlotte did, but she’s still pretty gross. Thank God there was a lower bunk over there, which I heard her say she needed, or else she’d be in here. If it weren’t for my visits and commissary, I’d be making sure to get my ass written up so I’d have to be alone. Then again, that may not be so easy. I’ve said and done numerous shit that DOs would normally write people up for, yet for some reason they let me get away with it. I’ve cussed Palma out and gotten away with it. The last DO you want to fuck with around here. I’ve had all kinds of shit I’m not supposed to have. I even flipped Misery off!

These DOs are full of shit and I’m getting really fucking fed up again. I swear I hate every single fucking one of them! I want my fucking pants or I’ll fucking go to my fucking visit tomorrow in my fucking underwear! You got that, you assholes?!

I can’t wait till Johnson gets back. You don’t know what you’re in for, big girl! I’m going to be such a mean bitch and give you a taste of your own medicine right back!