Yesterday was all an act. Maintenance never “fixed” the hot water. Today I put in my final grievance to the jail commander, and while I still intend to complain to the state/government, I will no longer use their showers. I’ll wash my hair in the sink and me with a wet pad.

Day 9 and I’m still sick, thanks to days like today where I was woken up 7 times. I’ll never recover at this rate! Next week I’ll order antihistamines to make me drowsy so I can try to get to sleep earlier. Between 5:30 AM and noon is a zoo around here. Two of the 7 times I was woken up were because of banging on the roof. Tom said he saw them working on the AC up there. What? Is it not cold enough for them? I know how cocks work – slow and incompetent, which means they’ll wake me up tomorrow, too.

I’m sooo hungry and will be sooo pissed if commissary fucks up again today. I’ve barely been able to eat maybe 20% of this nasty food.

---

That’s the third time my ear has popped. When is this congestion ever going to drain?! Although I still don’t feel well, I made myself jog to a couple of songs and do some exercises.

Commissary came with no fuck-ups. I gave Ida some trail mix and Deanna some corn nuts for envelopes.

I asked Bunch about Mary and I returning to 203, but as I figured, she said no. Too lazy to do the paperwork, or in this case, make a few entries on the computer. She said she was not going to say anything about that room being empty. She doesn’t want to have to deal with anyone transferring over here.

I’ll take the two no’s I’ve gotten as a sign. Besides, my vibes said I’ll never cell with Mary again. I knew that the moment Pancake Face Smith pulled her. I’ll just stay put with Ida. She’s tolerable, I like her, so why take a gamble by moving and risk being moved again sooner than I might have if I’d stayed here? I still don’t see myself here with Ida till she leaves, but each day I can be with someone who’ll let me sleep is one less day I could be with cellies who just don’t give a fuck like Deanna, Lora, Monday and Carolyn.

If Ida will shut up long enough, maybe I can concentrate on writing. Sometimes I want to stuff a roll of toilet paper in this shriveled-up old veiny antique’s mouth!

I’m looking forward to seeing Tom today.

I asked Deanna, who talked to Kara today, and she says you do have to put in a tank to see her. She won’t just come to us. Well, I’m not going to bother because I’m forced to do enough talking to people as it is.

Deanna wants to try to get in the big cell next door, and I talked with Mary, who still wants to return to 203 with me. I can’t imagine any DO going for it, though. God, why can’t Chambers work here more often?!

Nobody likes today’s DO, Madrid. She did give me blue juice instead of green juice when I asked, though. Temple was on last night. She and Brea are so sweet. Always pleasant smiles on their faces. Brea took the time to say goodbye to me before she left the last time she was on, and Temple asked how I was doing at breakfast time.

Oh my God! Ida’s actually motionless. She’s sitting still on her bed reading.

---

Kahn’s on now. The very one who moved me in with Ida. I’m going to let her know that I like Ida and have no problem with staying with her, but would like to shoot back down to 203 with Mary (Deanna did move next door). I’m sure she’ll say no, but it’s worth a try.

---

I was right. Kahn said no. Forget it, Mary! I give up.

Why did they cater to Deanna’s wishes, though? Afraid she’d cry racism?

I gave Melinda 3 envelopes for a pair of batteries today.

Saw Tom earlier. He still seems to think we can do farming and that that can be my so-called job. I still have a hell of a nagging feeling that says - run, die, or go to prison for at least 2 years.

I’ll have to ask Tom whether or not my probation is standard or intensive. If it’s intensive, then I’m doubly fucked from what Ida tells me. She tells me I shouldn’t have to work if I’m on standard probation. Well, either way, they can tell me not to do what I did ever again, but they cannot tell me what to do with my life!

Since my threatening the jail commander with bad publicity and more, concerning the cold showers, two plumbers have come and gone. They contradicted themselves, though, the stupid cocks. I heard them tell next door they have no control over the water temperature, but when Myra downstairs asked if they came to fix the hot water, they said yes. Well, time will tell whether or not they really “fixed” it or if I’ll have to call the numbers Tom’s mailing me to force them to reach out and turn the temperature dial up to where it belongs.

Got a letter from Paula. She has a cold, misses my journals, and asked how I was doing. She asks the same questions like is it bad here? What do I do all day? She says she saw the jail on TV when they were here filming.

I gave Christoffers the same evil glare she gives me when I saw her as I was passing one of the big dorms.

Poor Ida. Now it’s her turn to deal with this horrid flu. Of course that means I won’t get much sleep with her coughing, but if it wasn’t that, it’d be something else.

My guess was right about us getting our commissary tomorrow, rather than today. They’ll hit us when they hit the tents. Kahn passed out commissary sheets tonight and said we’d get it tomorrow.

Ida read some of my journals and thought it was funny. I was like – I’m writing about life in jail and you’re laughing?

She said it wasn’t so much what I was writing about that was funny, so much as it was how I was saying it, and that I’m a very good writer.

Yeah, look where it got me.

She says I’ve really got a way with words and am hysterical at times when I pitch a fit.

Yeah, I’m a real riot.

She says I’m more like a rebellious teen than anything else, and that to her, I’m more like a girl than a woman.

“That’s only because you’re old,” I told her.

Jail is one place where things are done differently. Where apples are sliced with ID cards, kiwis are peeled with spoons, and people keep their ears pierced with teeth from combs. Ida has comb teeth in her ears right now.

This time around I grieved the cold showers directly to the jail commander, and when this doesn’t work, I’ll go a step further.

---

Garcia let me swap mattresses with a spare one next door. I had one that wasn’t too much better than the one Kahn let me swap for. The old green ones suck, but now I have a newer tan one. The thing about it is that she let me do this after being a bitch to Ida and others. I’ve now seen 4 or 5 DOs be rude to Ida for no apparent reason. There’s no doubt that I am receiving special treatment from most of these DOs. Even Ida noticed it. Why, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because my case is so different and so stupid. It’s just the opposite with Christoffers, though. She’s nice to everyone else but me.

Can’t wait to see Tom tomorrow and get my commissary tonight!

---

Commissary came unusually early today, but that’s only because some stupid-ass DO had to fuck us all up. I don’t know if it was pure stupidity or a genuine error, but when the juvi pod received full restriction, some DO listed the whole damn dorm as being on restriction. All we got was our hygiene. No food or batteries. Melinda said she’d loan me a pair, but hopefully I won’t need them. They just might correct their mistake for a change and give us the rest of our stuff tonight or tomorrow. This is only because they’d lose money if they didn’t, but that’s OK. I’m used to people’s number one concern being their jobs and money. That’s all people fucking care about.

We were all bitching about it through the vents (this cell is also vented to the two downstairs as well as the one next door). I even grieved, saying that it’s too bad that when we make a mistake, it’s inexcusable, while those who work here can make all the mistakes they want and we have to just live with it.

I pay for my mistakes, I pay for others’ mistakes. That’s how it’s always been for me.

Right now they’re blaming each other. The DOs say it’s commissary’s fault, and commissary, with their room temperature IQs, says a DO fucked up. I just want my fucking stuff regardless of who fucked up, OK?! Arajo, who we’re cursed with again tonight, says we’ll get it Wednesday because that’s when they have to come back for the tents, anyway.

I still like Ida, but sometimes I just wish she’d shut the fuck up and sit still! She’s running at the mouth non-stop when I first get up which I can’t stand, and when I’m rocking out she’s right there in my face, pacing just a few inches below my nose.

Why is God forcing me to be everything I’m not? Everything I hated or tried to avoid is now being thrown at me left and right. I just want to go home and live like a fucking hermit, goddamn it! I’m not sociable, I’m not a people person, and I don’t like being forced to be one. She’s either pacing or fidgeting at the desk. The only time she’s still, quiet and out of sight from my bed, is when she’s on hers reading and that’s only 10% of the time. The woman hardly ever sleeps and I’d like to hang her by her clothes from the sprinkler on the wall right now!

We’ve been having these debates over diet and exercise. The old woman here seems to think cellulite is fat.

“No, it’s not,” I told her. “I was twice as big as I am now in my 20s and I didn’t have the craters in my thighs and ass that I have now. It’s age.”

“Well, what you said about exercise and weight loss is ridiculous.”

“No, it isn’t. I know from personal experience, along with common sense, which you’re too senile to have at times. Exercising does not burn calories or fat. All it does is tone you up. If you want to lose fat and inches you have to not eat.”

“You can have around 1000 calories a day and still lose weight,” said Ida.

“Yeah, but 1000 calories – that’s nothing. You may as well starve and lose it faster. I’d just recommend taking a multivitamin along the way and drinking lots of water.”

We also argued over those who say they’re more/less fertile. “There’s no such thing,” I insisted. “You’re either fertile or you’re not. As long as you have all the parts and they all work right and you have periods, you’re just as fertile at 50 as you are at 20.”

Day 5 and I’m still sick. I’m coughing up congestion I haven’t coughed up since I smoked and am sneezing my ass off. The question is, am I sneezing because of the flu, or is this an allergy attack I would’ve had anyway, suggesting this new nasal spray might not be working? Or is it something about this room? This is the same room I had that sneezing fit in back when I was in here with Kim.

Maybe I’d have been feeling better today if Misery hadn’t woken me up half a dozen times. First I woke up at breakfast, though I didn’t eat, then Misery came into the room to look around, then she rattled the door on a walk making sure it was locked, then she yelled at someone over the intercom, and Ida’s movements woke me for a sec too, as she went to Misery-proof the place. I stashed my juice bottle under my blanket.

Ida was telling me about a couple of unfortunate encounters she’s had with Misery. Misery didn’t like how she made a pillow out of pads, towels and toilet paper and wrote her up for it, after threatening to grieve her.

Never threaten to grieve an officer, I told her. Wait till the next shift. In fact, never make any threats at all. Just do whatever it is you’re going to do.

Ida also told me that another time she put a pad over her eyes so she could rest without the light glaring in her eyes, and Misery stormed into the room, yanked it off, and ran off. Then Ida yelled, “What difference does it make if it’s between my legs or on my eyes?”

Anyway, as Misery was coming up the stairs on a walk, I was just about to sarcastically thank her for waking me up half a dozen times when she shocked the shit out of me with a smile. She actually smiled at me! You mean Misery’s capable of smiling? This is when I knew that for the sake of helping Ida, and myself too, since I seem to have a way with DOs as I do with rodents, I could work her over good like a piece of clay. Ida had forgotten to bring the bottle of cleaning stuff back down, so I used that to charm her so our lives here would be a little easier. I was all smiles and friendly and so was she as she opened the door to take the bottle. She’s been as kind as can be ever since, and I last flipped her off in A Tower.

I accidentally called her Misery when I went to ask her for aspirin (her real name is something like Chaikowski). She either ignored me or didn’t hear me.

Ida asked if Tom reads this stuff and the answer is, yes, he does.

I’ve always worried about Tom never eating any fruits and vegetables. Then I came across an ad in a magazine with fruit/vegetable supplements you can take and will send it home and hope he tries it. Then I won’t worry so much about his health.

There was a gorgeous, full-page picture of two big pink roses which I taped to the wall (after Misery left). It really gives the place some color.

They just had to go and change the postage rate while I was in jail. What a pain in the ass it’s been. They don’t have 1¢ stamps on this week’s commissary sheet, so I may have 10 worthless envelopes. I’ll just send them home if I can’t get 1¢ stamps since Tom’s not allowed to send any stamps. Only in prison can you get stamps in the mail.

Ida, who doesn’t like to eat so early, packs her breakfast away for later. Today and yesterday she gave me cereal she saved. It wasn’t as good dry, but it was something to munch on when I got up.

No one seems to like the big, fat, whistling, ugly butch that’s on right now. Her name’s Arajo and she gave 5 write-ups to Melinda with 60 days full restriction and was rude to Ida, who’s going to grieve her tomorrow.

Ida says this is the longest Palma’s been away from M Dorm.

Gee, I wonder why!

Ida and I still get along. She paces and I rock. I just wish she wouldn’t talk so much!

I decided not to bother filling out the rather complex Women’s Network form I got. I know they can’t help me. I’m here till 4/29 and there’s nothing I or anyone else can do about it. All I can do is ignore these people when I get out and ignore cops, courts, POs, etc. I’m going to go home and be with my husband and pets and take my life back. I’m going to do the things I used to do, then together, Helen and I are going to try to pick up the pieces of my shattered life. Meanwhile, we’ll keep our $40 a month that we don’t owe anybody and that we need. And I won’t go changing my life over something I wrote. I won’t have 20 appointments of various kinds a week, and no, God is not trying to prepare me for a new lifestyle like I vibed and dreamt about by seeing me unjustly jailed. He’s only punishing me.

I’m really glad to have my retainers, my only piece of home. Everything else I have is either the jail’s or bought from commissary.

I’m going to go back to the large pants. Yes, the mediums fit, but the large is more comfortable for sleeping in. This cell’s too cold to sleep in my gown.

I want to get a body wrap done someday. I hear you lose 3-6” and you don’t dehydrate because you lose fat and not water. They also say it tightens your skin. I have a lot of loose flesh due to weight fluctuations and that also makes me look like I’ve got more fat than I actually do. I was surprised when Ida said they only cost $50-$75. I thought they were hundreds, even thousands of dollars. I’m going to get one done with next year’s Christmas money since I won’t be giving it to the freeloaders or to the state.

We’re back to the cold shower routine, but this time I did better than just grieve maintenance. I’m also having Tom find out who he can send in here to investigate this shit so they end up forced to give us hot showers.

In other news, Ida said to write in here that Tom must be a saint. That he is!

Last night Temple was on. She’s so nice. Brea’s on now. She’s nice, too. She’s sharpening my pencils for me now. Mary left 4 colored pencils she didn’t want in 3.

I’m still sick with the flu. At least I slept better. I slept longer with fewer interruptions.

I’ll be slipping Mary a note, asking if she wants to try to get back into 203 when Deanna leaves. But she needs to decide for sure up front whether or not she’s willing to be the one to move next time. I was surprised she was upset about moving because, after all, we were only doing what we agreed upon in the first place.

I like 203 better than 205. It’s darker and warmer, and I don’t like being vented to all these other cells. Especially a big one. It’s way noisier. It’s also more out of the way.

Ida was in the tents for a month before she went into Ad-Seg. She hated the tents for the same reasons I did, but she really was threatened.

Ida, who looks like a female version of the actor Sam Waterson, like she could be his sister, told me I seemed aloof when she’d see me out on my hour. Yeah, that’s me – anti-social. Ida’s no social butterfly, either.

She agreed to warn me when Misery’s on. She’s more by the book than Palma and is by far my least favorite DO. If she’s on, I gotta hide my juice bottle under my blanket because she’s the type who’ll go into a cell and look around, hoping to find something in plain sight that’s a no-no. She really looks for trouble.

If I thought blacks were sensitive to being called names – well – Deanna got 4 months in the hole all because someone called her a bitch and she couldn’t take it and had to beat them with a broom. For being called a bitch?! Damn! What a wimp!

I’m sneezing more, but my cough and sore throat have subsided a bit. I’m not as feverish, either.

Now that I’m settled in with Ida and am comfortable enough to be able to sleep well enough (the first night with a new celly is always stressful), I’ll be moved.

I thought I heard Mena, who was on last night, say that Deanna’s to be housed alone. And to what do they owe her that privilege? She wouldn’t see this as a privilege, though. I know she wants to be with Lisa and that she likes big cells better.

I’m debating whether or not to get mostly hard candy or chocolate this week. They’re both fattening and bad for my teeth, but in this place I really need them!

Ida’s tolerable, though I’d agree to clean the dayroom every day in a heartbeat in order to be with either Mary or Rosa for the rest of my time here.

I was right in suspecting Deanna was putting on an act that night she tried to get into D2. Even she admitted she was just playing, although she swears she really does hear voices. But how can a pill take away voices?

I finally learned why I got that candy bar from Melinda. It was for the bagel chips I gave her when we celled together in late November. I thought I had an impeccable memory! Pretty good for a basket case to remember that.

I drew sketches for Tom showing M’s small and big cells, their doors, and then A’s cells and doors. All the cells and doors are the same in A. It’s just that the 100 pod has that extra set of bunks they’re not supposed to have. That’s illegal.

I tightened my retainers now that they’ve begun loosening up a bit after shifting my teeth back where they were. Almost, anyway.

I really like some of these rap and hip-hop stations. I just might continue listening to current stuff as well as oldies when I get home. I’d go nuts without my little radio in this place!

White Johnson’s on tonight, but will Palma ever show up again? I doubt it. I really think I scared her off, but if I did, that’s her problem.

I hope Pérez is on tonight.

Ida was telling me she went on a cruise to Antarctica and she said that although it was tremendously cold, it was pure white, quiet, peaceful and beautiful. There was some color, though. She said minerals build up on the icebergs that reflect pink, blue and other colors in the sunlight.

She also told me about these huts with a scene frozen in time. About 80 years ago some English explorers went there to do research and they died. They were taken away, but their dogs and a penguin they were going to experiment on are still there, perfectly preserved. They look like they’re sleeping because it’s too cold for anything to deteriorate there.

I’d rather go on a cruise to a tropical place and fly up to Vegas in the morning and back and night.

Ida says the opposite of what Mary said. Ida says they won’t make me work if they see Tom can support me and especially not if I live way out in nowhere land. Well, if they ask me to do something unreasonable, inappropriate, or impossible, it won’t get done. Period.

Mary says she’s so unhappy in 4. Poor thing! We’re going to try to get back into 3 when Deanna leaves, but I doubt any DO will go for it.

M205

Tom jinxed me again, as most of his calls/visits do, and I not only got moved again, but I got the flu, too. The whole pod has got it. I thought I was getting over it yesterday, but just walking to visitation nearly killed me and was enough to set this flu in that I would’ve otherwise not gotten if the freeloaders hadn’t put me here where I can’t sleep and am forced to be around so many people. Something up there really wants to fuck me over. No doubt about it.

Last night I had a scratchy throat that made me cough all night. I wished for some cough syrup like never before. Today I’ve had sweats and chills and am weak. A little coughing and congestion, too. I’m still too sick to jog.

Anyway, Tom told me he was going to see his mom after visiting me. I told him about Deanna and I and our botched attempt to stage a fight so she could move downstairs to 201 with Lisa, and I could be alone or get Mary back in with me.

Deanna helped me out of 204, so I felt I owed her and I wanted to return the favor. After agreeing to keep threats and race out of it, we started our bogus fight as black Johnson walked by.

“All you do is bitch and whine!” screamed Deanna.

“Yeah? Well, you’re the one that snores like a mother-fucker!”

“Yous even more vulgar than Madeline ever was!”

“That’s fucking bullshit! I’m nowhere near as fucking vulgar as that fucking asshole was! Who the fuck do you think you’re kidding, bitch!”

But Johnson saw right through it. “Do y’all really think I’m going to fall for this shit?” she asked before we both burst out laughing.

During change of shift, while I was at Visitation, Deanna talked to Kahn, but neither of us got our way, though Deanna got the better deal if you ask me. She doesn’t think so, though (the blacks always prevail!). I better not find out Deanna cried racism behind my back and used that as an excuse. I hate that shit! I totally hate people who use that as a crutch.

Anyway, Deanna turned out to be just another black bitch - very rude, selfish and inconsiderate when she was up while I was trying to sleep.

Kahn didn’t move Deanna, so she got to stay alone in the best cell in this pod, while Melinda was moved from 205 to 204 where Mary is, and I was put in 205 with Ida F. I appreciate Kahn for tossing Melinda next door so I could remain in a small cell, though.

I was surprised when 60-year-old Ida told me Melinda didn’t drive her crazy by being all spastic. The only annoying thing she said she did was eat candy bars all night and I could hear the wrappers crinkling. Ida’s a light sleeper too, and the crinkling of wrappers and chomping bothered her. Maybe the only reason Melinda was subdued was that she’s got the flu, too. She also wasn’t there for more than a day.

Before I left 3, a candy bar came sailing under the door. It was from Melinda for something I never even gave her.

Here’s my take on Ida: She’s been tolerable so far, but I wish we were on the same schedule. She also gets a little chatty and paces back and forth for hours at a time. The good thing about her is that she goes out of her way to be quiet when I sleep because she understands how I feel being a light sleeper herself. However, I did hear her a few times but was able to go back to sleep. I’ve still been lacking sleep big time and couldn’t fall back asleep for a few hours after breakfast.

There are pros and cons to being with light sleepers, versus heavy ones. I don’t have to be overly cautious with a heavy sleeper when I’m up and about, but they have no respect for my own sleep. I have to be cautious with the light ones, but they’re more considerate. I’d definitely rather be with the light sleepers, though.

Ida’s German. She and her American husband moved to America in ‘62. She won’t tell anyone what her charges are. She gets out on February 15th.

She’s even smaller than me.

She told me CC, who’s back in A Tower where she belongs, is charged with the manifestation of prostitution. Meaning that they didn’t catch her actually hooking, they just thought she was hooking. That’s Arizona for you. And just think – I once loved this state. It’s still better than Massachusetts overall, but I’m not as fond of it as I used to be. Especially when it comes to the laws. In Massachusetts, you practically have to kill someone under a cop’s nose to get arrested.

I don’t see why they bother putting people in jail for hooking or drugs. If people want to ruin their bodies with drugs – let them. It’s their lives and I think it’s wrong for our fucked up government to tell people what they can and can’t do with their bodies/lives.

I woke up freezing in the middle of the night. Part of it was fever chills, and also because Ida insisted I do not block the vent that was blowing chilly air directly on me, but finally I was like – yo, we gotta compromise here. So I blocked it a little more. I wasn’t about to freeze at her expense. If she gets a little warm on the bottom bunk, all she has to do is take off her damn thermal.

I hear next door through the vents, but not as much as I thought I would. They do most of their talking in the evening.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter how Ida and I get along. They’ll only move me in a week or two tops.

I just want to go home to my old life till God once again decides I shouldn’t be doing what I want to do with it, then sends someone to help destroy it yet again. Why am I such a sucker to even go on living?! How stupid can I be?

Not that I’m not glad we didn’t have a kid, but I think losing sleep to a baby would’ve been easier than this shit. That’s because Tom and I could’ve arranged to give me breaks every now and then. There’s no getting any breaks in here! Once I’m up, I can’t usually go back to sleep, even if I’m tired.

Got a letter from Tom. He says he’s been working a lot, training people, and that there have been all kinds of problems at work. I hope they’re not running him ragged!

He says he wants to start a journal. That’s hard to imagine!

Now I’m starting to sneeze more.

I’m going to have Tom call the jail and see if Rosa’s still in A. I gave him her booking number.

Kitchen insisted I tank medical this morning, but it was a waste of time. There’s nothing they can really do for this flu, and by the time they see me, I’ll be over it. Tomorrow morning I’m going to put in a tank asking them to unschedule the appointment the morning nurse said she’d make, but I know the incompetent greedy assholes will still drag me down there all for nothing.

God, I’m not looking forward to another day of being woken up a zillion times! For breakfast, for the nurse, for our hour out, and maybe for Ida, too. Last night I was rudely woken up for a second by a flashlight in my eye. In a way, I wish they’d dim these lights like in A, rather than cut them off completely.

I miss Pérez. I hope she’s on tonight! Who knows when Palma will return? Either within the next few days or never again, if I scared her off.

Well, I’m still in 203, but Mary’s not. Deanna’s in with me now, but she’s cool because all she does is sleep. That is when she doesn’t trade her meds in for commissary. She’s very insecure about her blackness, though. Always paranoid that people aren’t going to like her because she’s black, and it seems so important to her that whites like and accept her.

To start at the beginning, which starts right before my visit with Tom yesterday, Kitchen, on 1st shift, came in asking if one of us would go next door because one girl wasn’t getting along with another. I said no, and explained why. Mary told her she didn’t want to move, either.

“But you’re in jail,” Kitchen started to say before leaving.

I don’t care where we are. I’m not going anywhere where I’m that uncomfortable.

However, come 2nd shift when Smith came on, Mary had to go next door and she was not happy about it. Fuck that fucking Pancake Face Smith! She’s nothing but a whiny, moody, rude bitch. Everyone calls her Barbie and considers her pretty, but to me, she’s no better than average (blond hair and light eyes do nothing for me). Either way, I wish someone would cuff her to something in the tower and stick a Raid bug spray bomb in with her on their way out!

There’s this black chick they call CC that’s causing trouble with everyone she cells with. She fought with a white girl next door named Lisa who went downstairs, then with Deanna, and today she ran out some other white girl who came from God only knows where. I refuse to cell with this black bitch or any other one other than Deanna. They’re too loud and too vicious.

Mary and I agree that they should put all the blacks together. However, they’d all kill each other, and the jail doesn’t want to deal with all that paperwork. In prison, it’s different, from what I hear.

Everybody hates Deanna’s snoring, but I don’t mind. I don’t know why Tom’s snoring bothers me so much that I can’t even sleep with him. Maybe because Deanna’s snoring drowns out background noise, but at home, the fan I have running is supposed to be doing that, so Tom’s snoring is an intruder. Her coughing, burping and moaning are loud, though. She talks in her sleep at times, too.

Mary rolled out and Deanna rolled in while I was seeing Tom. When I returned, Deanna was sitting up on her bunk rocking and crying. She was afraid I’d be mad at her. I wasn’t though. I was mad at the fucking black bitch who started this whole thing and at Pancake Face Smith. Whenever there’s a fight, there’s sure to be a black involved if there’s one around. I can tolerate Deanna, though, because most of the time she’s quieter than your average black, and her craziness is more tolerable because she’s not spastic like Melinda.

Deanna had been trading her meds for commissary, so she got all wound up. The nurse said she’d crush her pills so she wouldn’t feel pressured into trading them for commissary. Deanna said she was raped when she was 3, was hearing voices that were telling her to hurt people, wanted to go to D2, and didn’t want to hurt me. I was never worried, though. Deanna’s way over 200 pounds, very out of shape, and unable to move well, so unless she sat on me, I doubt she could take me. I’m fit, I’m fast, and I’m flexible.

After taking her meds she stopped “hearing voices,” which I really think was an excuse to try to get to D2, and slept from 8 PM – 4 PM. God, I envy her! I wish I could sleep my sentence away. But I can’t, and that’s why I’m finally, since 1997, coming down with a cold. The lack of sleep has taken its toll on my immune system. The symptoms are very slight, though, and if I could just get a decent night’s sleep, I may beat it.

I woke up 5 times last night. First I woke up for breakfast, which as usual, I don’t bother to eat, then the rude nurse had to knock and ask, “Are you OK?” Then it was underwear exchange, then Deanna yelled out in her sleep, then Bowe brought commissary for Deanna and it was our hour out. She slept through it all. I slipped Mary a note and got more toilet paper and pads.

---

Deanna’s finally up now. She’s rocking and whimpering. Hopefully, her 8:00 meds will knock her out for another 20 hours, so I can feel like I’m alone in here.

Smith said she couldn’t imagine being in a little closet like this cell. Better than something too open with 2 more people. Besides, what the fuck does she know? I was like, shut up, bitch! Go throw another bottle of foundation on your face.

Deanna gave me a few envelopes for a bag of corn nuts, which is great because now I don’t have to wait till next week for some. Next week I’ll get Deanna, who goes home on February 2nd, a couple of candy bars for her indigent envelopes.

The juvi chick’s been at her door screaming on and off today and yesterday, but what’s funny is that every time I yell at her through the vents, she really does shut up for a while. She was way worse yesterday, yelling all the way into 3rd shift.

As I said, Mary wasn’t happy about moving, but it’s what we agreed to do as long as it wasn’t with Melinda. I reminded her of this in the kite I slipped her. I also let her know I miss her and hope she can return after Deanna leaves, but by then I won’t be in this room. I’ll probably be in A for refusing to go in a big cell because eventually, the DOs aren’t going to compromise with me. Why is it always this cell that has to move? I can’t believe Mary was in here a whole month. Deanna was next door for two, but that I can believe.

There was a power failure today, but only for a few minutes.

My throat’s a bit scratchy. I’m a bit warm and a lot drained. I’m going to start buying daily vitamins, even if they’re an outrageous 65¢ for a daily pack.

I’m up top now because Deanna’s too big to climb easily. This is why we swapped in the big cell; she can’t pull her weight well. I’m also here so Deanna’s the one to get pulled, which she said would be OK, should they need a lower bunk. I climb like a little monkey, although I do prefer the bottom.

I made myself eat as much dinner as I could, then later I’ll force myself to exercise. Tonight we had scalloped potatoes with ham, broccoli and watermelon. As usual, I ignored the bread.

Black Johnson’s on. She and Deanna act like they’re old buddies. “It’s a black thing,” Deanna said.

Johnson said she went to New York, asked how Deanna’s daughter was, and then they discussed their braids for a minute.

Deanna and I were talking about the difference between white and black people’s hair, and after I complimented her on her color being not too light, not too dark, she goes, “OK, that’s enough black talk.”

Damn, these blacks are sensitive! Speaking of sensitive blacks – Mary told me a story about black bitch Bucket and a white racist they call Pinki. Well, Pinki was in the dayroom when Bucket decided to fake an asthma attack (Mary saw the whole thing) and so they popped her door. As soon as they did, the black bitch attacked Pinki when she was the one who called to DOs to help Bucket. Meanwhile, Bucket went right on with her bogus asthma attack and the DOs wouldn’t believe Pinki simply because she was a racist.

That was wrong of the DOs. Pinki has every right to be a racist or to not be one, and the DOs should’ve seen the incident for what it was.

Why is it that blacks just can’t handle people not liking them? If someone doesn’t like me, I just ignore them. I don’t attack them for it or go crying over it. Blacks and their poor, poor fragile, eggshell-like feelings!

It’s about 2 AM now and the only reason I’m writing at this hour is that Tate left the dayroom all lit up. I wonder why? She never did this before. Mary’s up, too. Mary and I only bought one envelope each because we didn’t know if they’d be dumb enough to give us 33¢ envelopes. They did, but they also enclosed 1¢ stamps without any extra charge.

Mary and I made a trade earlier. She had cramps and hadn’t gotten any Advil, so I gave her some of mine and she gave me some fruit punch drink mixes. I poured my shampoo into my old lotion bottle so I could use the shampoo bottle for my drinks like she does. If it wasn’t for her telling me to use toothpaste to clean it, I’d never have dissolved all those damn suds and it’d taste like soap forever!

Kara never came to see me last week. I wonder if she ever will again if I don’t kite her.

Mary told me I’m the best celly she’s ever had. I feel the same, along with Rosa. She doesn’t bug me when I eat, sleep, write, or listen to music.

I asked Tom if he’d get a gun between now and when I came home. Something small and wimpy that doesn’t need to kill as long as it’ll maim the person really good. Perhaps the chances of the freeloader paying me a home visit are next to nil, but that’s what I thought about going to jail, so you never do know. Better to be safe than sorry. If they do ever have the nerve to fuck with me again (if they live to talk about it), it’s going to be them that goes to jail, and I don’t care how black they are! Their color won’t save them a second time around. I’ll be as black as they are, for all they’ll know.

I can’t believe how much Mary likes to write! She writes way more than I do. I’ve been averaging a pad a month, but she averages one a week.

Another ice-cold shower at Estrella jail. I could barely stand getting my hands wet, let alone my whole body! A lot of us grieved, but I know it’ll only bring results for 4 days, then they’ll be right back to fuck with the temperature controls. I’m sick of fighting for hot showers! I’m going to have to resort to some other form of action in order to get hot showers for more than 4 days, but I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. For now, I’m bathing myself with wet, soapy pads in the cell, and washing my hair in the sink. At least we get heat here. I love not having to wear my thermal all the time.

Bryant, who’s black and actually not that bad-looking, was on 3rd shift last night. I think I’ve seen her once or twice when I was last over here, but I’m not sure.

Anyway, Mary and I were releasing our built-up energy, laughing and running around the cell. When Bryant came through from the juvi pod, Mary was right at the window looking goofy, just staring out dumbly, and I was twirling around and doing my demonic laugh real loud behind her. When Bryant approached the door, she asked Mary to step back so she could see into the darkened room with her flashlight. There are two strips of windows, so why she couldn’t see in the other one is beyond me. Anyway, I said hi to her a couple of times and got no answer. When I asked if she was new, she said in a snobby voice, “No, I am not.” Then she started to walk away and I began imitating her no I am not over and over again till she doubled back and asked Mary what was wrong with her partner.

“Who?” Mary goes.

Then frustrated, Bryant tells me I need to hush.

The story of my life – others being the ones to tell me what I need. Nonetheless, I said OK, but Mary and I made sure to be really goofy on her next couple of walks, rocking and shaking our heads to our music like punk rockers.

I’m tired today, thanks to being woken up a zillion times. First it was breakfast, then the nurse rudely woke us up to ask if we had any medical requests (she should know that if we did, we’d have medical tanks in the door), then it was our hour out, then others on their hour out woke me with their loud-mouths. I’m beginning to wonder if something’s not preparing me for something on the outs by showing me I can survive sleeping for a few hours at a time, as long as I don’t smoke. If I’m right, I don’t want to know. It could only be for something bad.

It’s commissary night, so I have that to look forward to, and even more so to Tom’s visit tomorrow. He’s been very patient and tolerant of my jail stories, even the Palma ones. As much as I wish I had stories to tell of going home where I belong, Palma stories are better than me crying all the time during our visits. At least I have something going for me here. Meaning, I really look forward to when Palma’s on.

Vasquez is on now and she’s cool. Who’s coming in for 2nd shift, I wonder? Well, it won’t be Palma.

From the looks of it, they filled the bed downstairs, but I don’t know with whom. There’s still a vacancy next door.

Mary continues to be a great celly. Most of the time I don’t even know she exists. She writes, eats and lives upstairs on her bed and doesn’t come down too often other than to clown around with me late at night.

Got a letter from Paula asking questions I’ve already answered a zillion times. Still, I’ve gotten more letters from her in the time I’ve been in jail, than in the whole time I was in Phoenix.

She says she’s having intestinal problems, it’s cold, her hair’s longer, and she’s trying to lose 20 pounds for summer.

She asked why I’m losing weight, do I have probation when I get out, and when do I get out. She should know this shit if she’s been reading my letters! I hate people who just don’t listen!

She asked for a picture of me. Like I could send her one now?

Got my commissary, and of course they fucked up. Instead of pink lipstick, I got mascara. But I got it at lipstick price, so I saved a buck. It’s OK, though, because I’ll eventually need more mascara.

I got cookies, nuts, dried fruit, and only one candy bar. No hard candy. I also got a sausage log I knew I shouldn’t have bothered getting. It wasn’t all that good. The caramel popcorn was just so-so. Not worth getting again. I got more hair protein, powder and lotion. We both have our powder bottles on the floor by the toilet, but we can tell whose is whose. Hers has a green cap and mine’s got a white one. Besides, hers is only half full.

Mary and I both put our hair in pigtails earlier.

The showers were ice cold and I was pissed to have gotten up so early for nothing (8 AM is like 4 AM for me). But the grievances did get answered because we later had hot water in the sink to wash our hair with. Come next week, though, it’ll be cold again.

I miss Palma already (not like I miss Tom). Just hearing her voice is nice. It sounds so much like Gloria’s and I really like it.

Hudgens was on 2nd shift. She’s cool. She kids around with us a lot.

Tate’s on now. I like her because she doesn’t get carried away shining flashlights in on us and doesn’t really even bother to look in on us at all, so I have rocking privacy.

I forgot to say that after my last visit, I finally saw a good-looking inmate. Mary’s good-looking compared to your average inmate, but I mean this girl was really good-looking. She had a friendly-looking, pretty face with beautiful long straight black hair. I’m not sure if she was Indian or oriental. Most of these inmates are skanky looking, with faces not even a mother could love, bad teeth, dead hair, and tattoos galore.

Boy, was I wrong about her not treating me any differently! I ended up talking to Palma last night more than all other nights combined, but something weird happened in the end, though I’m not sure what. She seemed disappointed in the end if I’m not just being paranoid and mistaking tiredness for any negative feelings toward me. It’s just that this woman is so hard to figure! This is one strange DO. She’s like a split personality, although as Mary pointed out, she’s been super cool with me and I shouldn’t assume she has any hard feelings towards me because she hasn’t come out and said so. She’s a pretty straightforward person. Still, every time she says/does something that makes me think she may like me, she says/does stuff that makes me think – nah, she’s just doing her job.

Mary said she was convinced last night that she’s bi-curious because of her reaction to learning I was married, which I couldn’t see from where I was. Mary said it was a definite look of disappointment, and this was when her mood seemed to change. I, on the other hand, thought it changed when I asked if DOs were allowed to visit inmates on the outs. Next time she’s on I’m going to avoid her or at least talk less just in case I said the wrong thing or was too pushy. I certainly wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and the bottom line is that even if I were single, and even if she did like me, nothing could ever come of it.

Anyway, I asked Mary for her opinions on her observations with Palma because I didn’t trust mine to be accurate. When you like someone, you tend to read things in that aren’t there out of wishful thinking because you want them to like you.

Here’s what happened from beginning to end, the way I honestly believe it happened.

The 1st round a DO makes on their shift is with their clipboard because they do headcount. She walked up to the door with her eyes on the clipboard. I said hi, and keeping her eyes on the clipboard, she said hi in a tone of voice that said she could either be distracted by what she was reading or not so eager to see me. Then I told her I got my retainers, and still with her eyes on the clipboard as if she was afraid to meet my eyes or just didn’t want to, she asked where I got them from. It wasn’t till I said I got them from home that she finally looked up at me and even smiled a bit before walking off.

I’ve never seen her with makeup on before tonight, even if it was just lipstick (neither has Mary).

For the next two walks, I didn’t say anything and kept my eyes averted from the door. Mary saw her, though, and said she looked at me on one walk, then at her on the other.

Mary said Palma used to tweak. Mary and others saw her sniffing something a long time ago.

Anyway, one walk before dinner Mary flagged her down to bitch about having fat on her thighs, and we all got to talking about exercise. I asked Palma if she could tell I exercised or if I looked flabby, and she said, “It looks like you’re working on it.”

I took this to mean I didn’t look bad, but I didn’t look good, either.

When she let us out to get dinner - a big fucking hot dog - I said I was going to lose more weight on this shitty food. She said she needed to lose weight.

“Yeah, right!” I told her and got a big, complimented grin for it that only Mary saw because my back was to her at that point.

After dinner, when I went out to bring our trays down, I asked how come she had lots of muscle in her forearms if she said she wasn’t exercising, and she said she didn’t have lots of muscle, then went on and on about how she should start running again, she misses it and just went on and on like never before.

During the time we were first talking about fitness and exercise, I asked Palma if she knew any good jokes and she said she only knew Spanish jokes. When I reminded her that I knew Spanish, she said I still wouldn’t get it. Well, my Spanish certainly isn’t as good as hers. So, I ended up telling her a few jokes and said I’d write down for her whatever jokes I could remember and get it to her before her shift was over. “OK,” she said.

About 2-3 walks later I slipped a full sheet of jokes under the door to her. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said with an amused smile (pretty happy and smiley for someone whose initial reaction to my crush wasn’t so thrilling). I heard her chuckle as soon as she walked past the door, and I remember thinking – she couldn’t have read any of those jokes that fast. Then I remembered my little header and realized that must’ve been what made her laugh. I wrote: To my favorite DO (that is until you move me again) from Jodi Lin.

Then Palma shocked the shit out of us by announcing to the whole pod that she was going to do a search and that anyone caught with contraband would be written up. Palma never gives any warning when she’s going to toss us (Mary thinks I had something to do with that)! Mary and I put our extra panties on over the ones we were wearing, and I stuffed my extra towel in the seat of my pants and sat on it. When we heard her say the words summer and winter to next door, we thought – oh, no! There goes our thermals. So we bunched up our thermal sleeves under our stripe’s sleeves and pulled our hair in front so it wouldn’t show in front by our necks as much.

We heard her screaming downstairs and were like – shit! She’s going to be in a foul mood when she finally gets to us, and we’re going to get written up because we’ve got a 3-foot-tall stack of books we aren’t supposed to have. We’re only supposed to have 3 each, but it’s so hard to get books in here! She never wrote us up, though. She just took the books and shocked us by doing a very calm, half-assed search. In the past, and Mary agrees with this, she’s made us leave the cell while she’d turn the place inside out so that it’d look like a cyclone went through it once we got back. She didn’t even search the garbage. Mary was counting on me to “work my magic” on her and keep us from getting written up for the books, but I didn’t have to. I was our spokesperson, though. As soon as she went to look into the trash bag, I told her it was trash, and she ignored it and moved on. How kind of her to be so trusting so I could get my big plastic bag back out of the trash that I stuck in there before she came in. I use this to move with.

She asked, “What’s this?” when she came across Mary’s bottle of powder sitting on the floor by the toilet, and I told her.

I forgot to say that when she first came in, she looked rather dismayed at all the books, saying, “You guys got a lot of books.”

“Boy, you are one by-the-book DO!” I told her as she stooped down to bag them. Then, I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of anger cross her face and was like – OOPS! So I didn’t say anything else about the way she does things.

Then Miss Bipolar became all chatty again, even if this extra attention I had prayed for was mostly initiated by me. I showed her my mice and rat pictures and she asked if they were mine, after saying mice and rats were OK when I asked if she liked them.

I showed her the snake picture and told her it waltzed onto our land one day, a 10-acre ranch in Maricopa, and Palma wanted to know who else owned it. When I told her my husband and I owned it, she said she didn’t know I was married. This is when Mary said she caught a change in her expression, which she thought was one of disappointment. By that point, I couldn’t see Palma’s face. We were both sitting on our bunks, and she was up checking Mary’s bunk at that time, so all I could see of her was from the waist down. Before this, when she was lifting the corners of my mattress with me sitting in the middle of it, I asked if she wanted me to get up. She said no in such a soft, kindhearted voice I’ve never heard before, and winked at me.

Although I learned she has a 6-year-old daughter, many women with kids do go with women. I’m just not sure what to make of her. All I know is that she seems to be taking my little crush very well and that I’m a bit more convinced there is something between us. I’m just not 100% sure.

I just can’t believe how talkative she’s become and how much personal shit she’s told me, although it’s not much.

Extra bottles aren’t allowed. Mary was using an old shampoo bottle for her juice drinks and I poured part of my shampoo into it so Palma wouldn’t take it.

On her second to the last walk, Mary asked about the mail and her attitude still seemed changed, as it did on her final walk. She never even said good night. I don’t know if she was just tired or what.

When Temple came on, who’s always so friendly and always smiles, Palma’s expression wasn’t a happy one like it was the last time when she was talking to Tate. This time it seemed to be a cross between serious and disappointing. Maybe even annoyed? Frustrated? Upset? I just don’t know. I also could’ve sworn she gestured to this room a few times. She did smile and laugh a few times, though. The lights were off when I was spying on her, or else I’d never stand in the door and stare like I did. Then all of a sudden, the light came on, and I never flew so fast away from that door! I don’t think she saw me, though. Mary was at the door at the same instant I fell back from it, so if anything, she’d think she was the one spying. Temple turns on the lights to do headcount, which she turns off after the first walk. Then I listened to music like I do at night in the dark.

The negs to M is that they do fewer walks here, and because everyone’s done with their hour outs by the time 2nd shift comes on, I can never be out and about when Palma’s on, except for when we’re getting dinner. But I can see her better in this tower than I could in A’s.

She never did fill that empty bed downstairs last night with someone like Tina. And now there are two big cell beds open, if I heard right, so now I’m doubly nervous. It’s easy to stay in a big cell and hard to stay in a little one.

Anyway, I think a lot, which is one of my favorite things to do. I like to analyze things. So - does Palma like me? Others seem to think so, and I’ve wondered if she could, but every time I decide she does, I then decide she doesn’t. She could still be prejudiced for all I know, and you know what? If she is, I don’t want to know her. I hate people who are prejudiced against people that are harmless, but different (although gays aren’t that unique). I can see prejudice against blacks because blacks hurt people. A dozen white gays could never wreak the devastation and destruction one black could. I just wish I could de-black my life for good!!!

I decided to do something even better than talk less to her next time (it’s part of the game, anyway). I’m going to give off the subtle air that I might be avoiding her. I’m curious to see if she gets curious about it and makes any attempts at chatting with me if I don’t. This ought to be an interesting test.

To sum it up, Mary doesn’t think Palma’s prejudiced, and she thinks she might like me, but I’m still unsure.

Got my copy of the Ad-Seg form Rule coached me into writing. Nice to see she can’t spell! She spelled recommend with one m, but at least I got her ID#.

---

It’s a little after 8:00, and a DO who’s pretty cool, but whose name I never caught, is on now. Brea was on 1st shift. I hope Pérez will be on tonight, but I think it’ll be Perry. I like the variety in DOs and never knowing from shift to shift who’ll be on. At the same time, I wish Palma were a regular! Anyway, Perry’s loud, rude and obnoxious. The bitch goes out of her way to deliberately shine the flashlight in our eyes, too.

Ever since I sang really loud late at night through the vent, we haven’t heard that juvi chick next door.

It was Pérez. She’s so cool. I really like her a lot.

Mary and I played a prank on her. There’s a little corner in our cell, and a small person wedged into it can’t be seen from the door. Mary made a half-assed form of a person under her blanket, and when Pérez came around with the flashlight, she knew something wasn’t right. She told me to move her blanket, and at that point, we began giggling. She then proceeded to open the door, and just as she did, Mary darted to the toilet and sat on it as a seat. Mary said, “I was here all the time.”

Pérez said, “Oh, there you are. Guess she was standing in front of you because I knew you weren’t that skinny.”

G and S can’t wait for Palma to come back! We’ve got plans for her. This time around, I’m going to be the one to hide while Miss Balls of Brass plays dumb.

I’d be pissed if Palma ever switched to 1st shift. I sleep through 80% of 1st shift.

Mary is flattered by the new nickname I just gave her – Miss Balls of Brass (for telling Palma I had a crush on her).

It’s so much warmer here in M. I don’t need my thermal nearly as much. God, please let me stay here with Mary till I can go home!

Got a letter from Tom yesterday and I talked to him earlier. His cold is still hanging on, but working its way through.

He said he dug a huge garbage hole for the shit people dumped on our land before we got it and that he found an old toolbox lying in the road, but the tools weren’t so great.

The Kool-Aid adventure didn’t work out. My gray hairs are still gray.

My teeth have shifted back into place nicely. Had I gone another 4 months without retainers, there’d have been no way to squeeze them on and it’d be too late. I’ll probably have to wear the retainers all my life like the hygienist said I might, but it’s worth it. I’m just pissed that I finally got my teeth free of cavities just to have to start all over again because I can’t give them proper care here without my electric toothbrush and plaque sticks. I’m going to have a dozen or more cavities when I return to the dentist!

Thanks, freeloaders. Thanks a lot.

Change of shift is coming up, but I still can’t tell who it is. Whenever Palma does make it back here, it’ll be interesting to see how she acts now that she knows my little secret. Will she act differently? Avoid me more? Talk to me more? My guess is that she won’t treat me any differently.

Yes!!! It’s Palma!!!

Stamps are going up a cent today, so the Hart vs. MCSO that I’m mailing Tom may get returned to me, along with letters to Paula, Helen and Mom. I hope not, though.

I still haven’t gotten a copy of my original Ad-Seg form, so I put in another tank requesting it.

Mary says Kahn, who was on yesterday, was a real meanie, but she was nice to me.

Crazy Melinda and I were awaiting escorts to visitation and instead of calling each other names, we were nice to each other for once. Of course, she ran off at the mouth non-stop. She said my hair’s grown 2-3 inches in the last month. Yeah, it grows fast. Even without vitamins.

Myra C, who’s downstairs, got her to peel off a little of her light pink lipstick for me which she put on a piece of plastic. I’m sick of red lipstick!

On my way to see Tom yesterday, Palma, who was working L dorm, stepped out into the hall to let a couple of girls out to medical. I said hi to her, surprised she heard me over the rush of people, and even more surprised that she said hi back in the midst of all the commotion.

Mary and I just dyed our hair with Kool-Aid. On the outs, she bleached her hair, then dyed it fuchsia. As it grows out, in order to keep the ends red, she enhances it with Kool-Aid. She says it’ll make my gray hairs pink, so I decided to give it a try. I was in the mood for adventure, for something new. So we mixed concentrated Kool-Aid and rubbed it into our hair, then put our hair up to let it set overnight. We then washed our hands with Magic Shave, because soap and water alone wouldn’t wash our blood-red hands.

Tom’s getting over his cold and looking good. He said the rats haven’t bitten him lately but are terrified of him.

It’s already Friday and still no Palma! Where is she?

I still don’t know what to make of her. Was she really flattered? Could she really like me? Is she bi? Straight? Straight and prejudiced? As hot as she is, I could never picture myself with her. I couldn’t imagine hanging out with her or living with her because of her temper.

She has had a boyfriend, according to Mary, that she broke up with a few months ago.

I borrowed the nail clippers to trim my pussy hair. There was no chance of me keeping them, either, because Bunch took my ID card as collateral.

I’m amazed at how quiet it’s been today. I only heard Miss Obnoxious next door for a second and that’s it.

It’s been really cool being in this cell with Mary. We have each other’s companionship when we want to chat, but we also do our own thing and give each other space. She likes to write a lot, too. We sleep at the same time, for the most part.

Barajas was on 1st shift today, and Toye was on last night. I wonder who’ll be on tonight? Probably Perry or Pérez. I hope Pérez.

Bummer. The 3rd shift DO asked for the nail clippers back. Oh well.

Mary told me she doesn’t mind being in a big cell, so if worse came to worse, and they absolutely have to have my lower bunk, she said she’ll go in place of me so I can stay here, then I’ll jump up to the upper bunk.

Yesterday I went to Dental. The dentist said my teeth looked good, and another 4 months without the retainers wouldn’t hurt (this was before I knew I was getting my retainers, although I disagree).

On my way back from medical, Limon, the coolest male DO, let me swipe a towel from a pile they had of clean towels. Now I have two again!

Bergman, the degenerate scumbag that threatened me with my visit over my shirt said, “What were you doing out in the hall dressed like that?” as I entered M Dorm (I didn’t have my shirt tucked in). I just ignored him, but once again, and lucky for him, I have things to lose or else I’d have told him to mind his own fucking business, jacked him up against the wall, and pummeled his face beyond recognition. He can shove it in one nostril and blow it out the other!

“You’re supposed to have your shirt tucked in!” he screamed as I entered the 200 pod.

No shit, you bald-headed mother-fucker.

I had to go to medical again today for refills on inhalers. I saw Rosa and Carolyn there. There was a really nice DO named Espinoza working there, too.

I didn’t yet mention how I finally got my retainers. I told Tom to just go ahead and bring them in during a visit, deciding that maybe the wrong DO was on when he first tried bringing them in. Sure enough, they went right through this time.

It’s in the evening now. I took a nap after dinner and got woken up when Kahn came to get Mary for her visit, then again when the fucking juvi next door had to go on another one of her fits of screaming, laughing and banging. This place would be a lot more peaceful if it weren’t for her.

I’ve been sleeping really weirdly, although I’m still pretty much on the same schedule. The night I came over here I was up till 9 AM! That’s because I was all wound up, although for once it was in a good way, because of Palma and how everything was suddenly going well. Two nights ago I slept on and off from 2 AM-noon, but last night I only slept from 6 AM-10 AM.

I was outside today for the first time since I got here. They have recreation periodically, but it had always been before I was up. Since I was already up, I went with Deanna and a girl named Marilyn. We sat in a small enclosed area that was all concrete. Deanna and I laughed about how she helped me get out of the big cell.