January 2001 in 2000s

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 31, 2001
Our hot showers are officially over for now. I knew it wouldn’t last long. Well, I’ll just have to have Tom get on with sending me the info for where I can file a formal complaint or get someone in here to check things out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Girlie? That’s a new one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now how would she know I don’t snore?

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

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

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

TUESDAY, JANUARY 30, 2001
M205

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

MONDAY, JANUARY 29, 2001
It’s about midnight now and I still can’t sleep. I wish I could, though. Weekdays are full of wake-ups. Breakfast, nurses, rec calls, other calls, clothes exchanges, etc.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

M203

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SUNDAY, JANUARY 28, 2001
I just can’t get into reading in this place. I’m content with just writing and listening to music. I’ve only read a couple of books since I’ve been here. I guess I’m just used to reading at home in my comfortable bed with a big bowl of popcorn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cedeño’s on now. She’s harmless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I miss hearing Christmas songs on the radio.

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

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

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

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

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

SATURDAY, JANUARY 27, 2001
The water’s still hot! How amazing. Guess they didn’t like being threatened with outside agencies getting involved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brea’s on now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After dinner is when things got funny.

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

“Not very likely,” said Palma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brea was like – I don’t think so!

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

“Yup,” she said nodding.

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

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

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

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

FRIDAY, JANUARY 26, 2001
Woke up a zillion times and am tired today. There’s less going on on weekends, so maybe I’ll catch up then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THURSDAY, JANUARY 25, 2001
Tom didn’t have much to update me on. He’s feeling better, working a lot, and Dan’s house is still for sale. Mary and Dave may go to Laughlin for a couple of days and he’ll stay with Mom and Pepper if they do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 24, 2001
I knew I’d wake up a zillion times. That’s because I slept well yesterday, and after every time I do sleep well, I sleep shitty the next day. Ida woke me up a few times today, and again I explained to her that she needs to settle down. I’ve let enough of her wake-up calls slide. Tonight I’m waking her up with my radio, even though she didn’t wake me up intentionally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TUESDAY, JANUARY 23, 2001
Just had a nice visit with Tom. I don’t have to worry our visit will jinx me and cause me to have to move, because as usual, crazy Melinda’s causing problems downstairs, and I heard Hudgens say she wasn’t moving anyone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MONDAY, JANUARY 22, 2001
I’m shocked to say that the showers were warm, even hot at times! Let’s see how long it lasts. A couple of plumbers were here again, too.

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

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

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

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

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

SUNDAY, JANUARY 21, 2001
Ida and I patched things up. We talked a lot today about all kinds of things and I’m glad we’re still cellies. We talked about the things that have happened to make me this angry, including my childhood. She really is a good person deep down. I told her I know I’m not perfect and am sorry if I scared her in any way.

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

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

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

I never make bets I can’t win.

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

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

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

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

SATURDAY, JANUARY 20, 2001
That was so rude! So incredibly rude! That damn Arajo butch that Ida grieved for being rude just tore up a note I stuck in the trap for her. I never did anything to this bitch! What? Did she assume it was from Ida?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What peephole?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wish I was deaf in this place!

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

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

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

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

FRIDAY, JANUARY 19, 2001
Ida really pissed me the fuck off last night and today. Otherwise, I still like her and hope to stay with her till she leaves, unless she starts going out of her way to wake me up. I doubt she will, though, because she values her own sleep. I already let her know she’d lose her sleep if I lost mine.

Anyway, ever since we’ve celled together, we’ve been arguing over the vent setup. She wants it more open because she likes a lot of air circulation. Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off up on my bunk, getting a direct icy draft. But whenever I block some of the airflow and try to redirect it away from me, she whines and bitches.

This morning I got fed up, and out of sheer exasperation said I’d break her hand if she moved the cardboard I had in it. So she went crying to Espi (Espinoza) that I threatened her, telling her to “move this kid who’s nothing but a defensive little bully with a psychotic laugh.”

I told Espi I wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t literally intend to harm a 60-year-old arthritic woman. I simply said what I said out of frustration. Espi said she wouldn’t move anyone but made me take down the cardboard, nonetheless.

Ida was all hysterical and saying shit like, “She’s crazy! She told me herself she was a ward of the state and was in a funny farm in New Hampshire.”

“Vermont,” I corrected her.

“Believe me,” Ida says, “she’s not always as sweet as she looks.”

“Sugar and spice, but only some things nice,” I told Espi, who was trying not to laugh and make Ida think she wasn’t taking her seriously.

Then Ida goes on to say that I swear too much and ought to work on that.

“Shit! That’s what I’ve been meaning to do!” I said.

So now Little Miss Spoiled has gotten her way yet again, but come 2nd shift, I’ll just block the vent again. I don’t think she will, but if this old fart smacks herself and says I did it, I will smack her!

All this over a fucking vent! And she can’t just drop it and move on, either. I thought I held grudges! If any good has come out of it, it’s that this has shut her up. No more running at the mouth non-stop. She won’t say a word to me. She won’t even look at me.

Then I got pissed at Mary and Myra for not minding their own business, yelling through the vents to leave Ida alone because they like her. Of course they like her. Especially Myra. Ida feeds the fat pig left and right. Anyway, I told them to butt out and let us fight our own battles (along with informing Ida that Myra, who I know is guilty of being the child molester and abuser she’s charged with being, is only using her).

Meanwhile, I’ve been living up to my “crazy” label she’s stuck me with, playing with her head, laughing suddenly for no apparent reason (making sure my laugh is psychotic enough for her), and answering questions she never asked.

I finally figured out the perfect prank to pull on her, too. Before, I couldn’t figure out very creative pranks, and as Ida agreed, you can’t do much in a jail cell. But I finally did something better than putting orange peels in her bed and pencils in her shoes. I randomly turned to a page in my book and scribbled down a few sentences from it on a piece of paper. Then I told her that someone who I didn’t see slipped it under the door while she was at her legal visit.

She’s quite confused. Perhaps I’ll spill the beans in a few days.

I blocked 75% of the vent, but it’s still freezing in here. That’s what happens when assholes run an AC in 34-degree weather.

I now have 100 days left. Before Ida decided to give me the silent treatment, she urged me to file a motion for a sentence reduction, saying I have nothing to lose, but I don’t know. I’d have to send a copy to the county attorney, as well as to the monster judge who gave me my outrageous sentence in the first place. That ruthless bastard ain’t about to reason with me. Tom told me he blames the judge too, because common sense would’ve said he knew I was being framed. He said he resents anyone in the system who just ignores corruption and agrees I can’t be the only one this has happened to.

Everything’s about money, power and control. It’s like the judges are queen bees and the pigs and lawyers are their drones. I can just imagine how God-like those judges must feel holding the fate of one stranger after another in their hands, knowing they can make them or break them.

Tom thinks that reminding them that my sentence is too harsh, period, and that I’ve “behaved” since being here will help, but I disagree. I know I’ll be here till 4/29. I saw it in my dreams. But why? Why is this happening to me??? I just don’t see what the reason is other than because something up there wants to hurt me. Even if I’d written “I’m going to kill you” a million times, and even if she was as innocent as she pretended to be, the sentence I got was still completely insane.

I got fed up with our rude nurse this morning. Everyone got on my bad side today! While Ida was at her visit and I was sound asleep, the fucking bitch knocked really loud on the door (I nearly went through the ceiling) asking if I were OK.

“No, I’m not OK when you startle me out of a sound sleep,” I told her.

“Then go home,” the bitch had the nerve to say.

What a stupid, asinine thing to say! Like I choose to be here?! So, as much as I know it’s useless since they all protect their own like pigs do, I grieved to medical. Normally, Ida’s up and at the door to shoo them away, but now that she hates me, I don’t know if she will.

Got a different response this time on one of my grievances about the cold water. Now they’re claiming the water temp has always been the same and that the problem is getting it through the “loop,” and that it has to go through 4 dorms before this one. I still don’t buy it, though. We suffered the same cold water in A and A’s nowhere near here. It wouldn’t take even the dumbest person this long to figure out the problem, but there is no “problem.” Each dorm, maybe even each pod, has its own water tank, and the problem is them. It’s them punishing us and saving a buck in the meantime. I can’t believe they’re stupid enough to think I’m stupid enough to believe a word of their lame excuses, and why did they wait this long to pull this one on me anyway?

Some older woman with a neck brace I’ve never seen before moved in with Melinda.

Ida is being one major stubborn, selfish, spoiled, immature, childish little brat. The old biddy just won’t let bygones be bygones. What happened should be done and over with by now, and she shouldn’t be doing childish things like dumping the juice she normally gives me in the toilet. I swear, she’s a child living in a 60-year-old body! Is she trying to force me to slug her so I can get in trouble? She said she hopes I do. Well, I’m not about to give her the satisfaction, believe me. Meanwhile, I totally look down upon her now. I’ve lost any respect I may’ve once had for her.

Just took my vitamins. There are 5 pills in all. They’re horse pills, too!

It’s nice not having Melinda next door. That way she’s no longer screaming through the vent. Only Myra and her nosy friend do. If Ruby told me the truth, Myra’s here for letting her boyfriend talk her into having her kids go down on her. Totally sick!!! Yeah, I’m in here with a lot of perverts. Perverts who tell me to respect my elders, even if they don’t respect me in return. I don’t respect my elders. I respect those who respect me.

I took down the rose picture and taped it to the back of my spare tablet because I know I can forget about counting on Ida to alert me if Misery’s on.

I’m so fucking tired and homesick! Damn the fucking freeloaders who put me here – damn them! Oh, I don’t even want to think about it, or else I’ll be fuming like hell.

I just had a good long cry. Gibb asked me if I was OK when she was talking to Ida who wanted to see the sergeant for “several things,” myself included, I’m sure. I let Gibb know I was OK, but I just want out!!!!! How am I going to survive another 3 months of this shit??? When I do get a good celly, they either turn bad or one of us is moved.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 18, 2001
Vasquez is on today. Crazy Melinda got kicked out of next door again, so now she’s alone in 203. Deanna was at psych at the time so she missed the whole thing.

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

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

“Fuck you,” she yells.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 17, 2001
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.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 16, 2001
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.

MONDAY, JANUARY 15, 2001
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.”

SUNDAY, JANUARY 14, 2001
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.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 13, 2001
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.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 11, 2001
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.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 10, 2001
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!

TUESDAY, JANUARY 9, 2001
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.

MONDAY, JANUARY 8, 2001
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.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 7, 2001
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.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 6, 2001
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!!!

FRIDAY, JANUARY 5, 2001
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.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 4, 2001
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.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 3, 2001
Mena’s on tonight. I wish it were Palma, but she’s way better than Christoffers. She is the most evil DO yet! Always glaring at me with such intense hatred. I don’t know if she read about me in the paper and didn’t like what she read, or what. Maybe I remind her of someone she dislikes. Mary noticed the way she’d look at me with a mean expression, too. At least she didn’t move me. As long as she doesn’t fuck with me, she’s welcome to hate me all she wants. Yesterday she wanted to throw me down in the big cell’s upper bunk because someone came in needing a lower bunk. I didn’t know they did that in M. I thought they wouldn’t bring anyone to M in the first place that needed lower bunks/tiers until they were available. Amazingly enough, though, my protests worked. I can thank Mary for helping me, too. She protested along with me. Christoffers likes Mary, so maybe that’s why she let me stay here. Instead, she just said we were worse than the juvies, and threw Melinda downstairs so the black chick could take her lower level next door. There are 3 blacks in there now. I’m glad I’m not in 205. That’d no doubt be noisier than the juvies. We’re right by the juvies, and in the late afternoons – early evenings, the girl next to us likes to bash the door and scream like hell. Thank God for my radio!

Both of us were surprised when Christoffers wanted to “see” me take the aspirin I asked for.

Now why did she need to see that?

Mary describes Christoffers as sociable, and I have heard her talking with others, including Mary, while she’d throw me an occasional nasty glance. Mary said that maybe she’s like this because I’m smart.

How would she know whether or not I’m smart, and why would that make her like this?

First I had to fight to get to a small cell and now it looks like I’ll have to fight to stay here. I’m afraid Christoffers will force me out of here (if Palma doesn’t) because she ever so reluctantly let me have my way yesterday. I know, though, that either way, I won’t be here come February. I won’t be here come mid-January. I wish I could go home and never see this place or its people ever again!

Anyway, Mary’s too good to be true as far as a roommate goes. We’re 100% compatible. She sleeps a lot and is quiet. I won’t have to worry about her begging because she gets her own commissary and has her own radio. She eats and writes on her bed, so I can use the table anytime I want to for writing.

She’s from New York, very open-minded, tolerant and accepting. She’s really easygoing and tries to laugh as much as she can. Sometimes you have to in order to survive this place!

She’s 23 with 4 kids. One’s dead, one’s with its father, and the other two were adopted. She’s in for child neglect, and just like with Rosa, it’s awfully hard for me to picture her being neglectful in a serious, deliberate way. She says it’s her ex who was neglectful, and I believe it. He killed her 11-month-old daughter while she was at work. He beat her, ran her over, and she’s in the process of testifying against him. I don’t think she belongs here. I mean, isn’t it punishment enough that she can never see her daughter Gretchen ever again?

Here goes that juvi again. Mary said it’s never been like this before in the month she’s been in this cell. I tried to tell her there’s been a noise curse on me for nearly a decade, but she doesn’t believe me. It’s true, though. Noise goes where I go.

Mary’s better looking than most inmates, but she’s no Palma. She’s 5’ 3”, 130 pounds, with gray eyes and brown hair with red at the ends.

She’s been here for 8 months and won’t be going home till June. She was in prison, but because of the testifying, she’s here.

In the 8 months she’s been here she’s been moved 16 times, yet I’ve only been here 2 months and I’ve been moved 14 times!

I wonder if Mena will have the TV on in the dayroom tonight as Christoffers did? You have to stand by the door to watch it. I prefer to wait until I get home. I’m not much of a TV person, and the thing sounds like one big echo in here. You can’t make sense of the words. I can’t, anyway.

So now I’ll finish the Palma story. Mary told me she came into the cell before I got here and asked her if she remembered me, and she was like, “Don’t know her.”

Then, according to Mary, she said, “Good, good,” in a relieved tone of voice, and left.

After getting settled, I thanked Palma for putting me in here with a sane celly. She smiled and said something I couldn’t quite make out before she entered the other pod.

On her next walk, I asked her for a medical tank. She said all they had were tanks, but all I had to do, she said smiling in a teasing kind of way, was write: ATT medical on the tank, which she said she’d bring on her next walk, but she forgot. Instead, she got a little confession made to her by Mary. After I told Mary I liked Palma, she and I were debating whether or not she was straight, or if she could be bi. Then she told me she was curious, had balls of brass, and was going to tell Palma I liked her. I thought she was joking, but boy was I wrong!

I happened to be sitting on the bed and had just turned on my radio when Palma came by and Mary told her S had a crush on her. I had had the radio on softly, so all I heard by the time I turned it off was Palma saying, “Don’t tell me that shit. I don’t want to know.”

I thought - great! Just great! The door’s going to open up and I’m going to get maced!

As I pretended to play dumb, bouncing around to the imaginary beat on my radio, I heard her say in a cheerful tone, “And you ladies have a good night.”

I never saw her the whole time (I wouldn’t dare look at her). The rest of what happened was what Mary told me. When Mary told me she was flattered I said, “She couldn’t be if she said she didn’t want to know or be told, and there goes my tank.”

I was surprised she even bothered to tell us to have a good night, but that’s the part I couldn’t see. Mary said that she thought her initial reaction was that of shock, or maybe even embarrassment because, after the brief pause that came before us having a good night, Mary said a warm smile broke out across her face and she walked away with a slight cheerful bounce to her walk. Not even 10 minutes later I received 3 medical tanks. Not tanks, but medical tanks. By this time her shift was over and she said good night to us. At first I didn’t dare speak to her, but when I thanked her for the medical tanks, she said, “You’re welcome. Have a good night.”

I can see how the news would’ve caught her off guard. I can just imagine her doing a walk and hearing the usual things like, what time is it? Can you bring me a tank order on your next walk? Don’t forget the nail clippers! Then, S has a crush on you.

Then I was lying on my bed laughing about it, saying, “I can’t believe you said that!” when Mary, who was at the door, was like, “Come here, come here!”

I jumped up and ran to the door. There was Palma, smiling and being quite expressive with Tate. We’d never seen her smile like that before! At first I figured they were laughing about me and my little crush, but then I figured it couldn’t be that funny. Crushes in this place are a dime a dozen and half of these DOs are gay. Besides, this was a happy expression, not an amused one. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she won the lottery. The only thing I could make out when trying to read her lips was “I’m so happy.” She was just too far away to read anymore, and Tate kept blocking her.

When Tate came by, I asked if she remembered me, and jokingly she goes, “Oh, God. You’re back?” Then she asked how I was.

We got our commissary, so we’re happy, but I didn’t get pink lipstick. At least they didn’t charge me for it. They probably didn’t have any. But they did give me another tube of expired hydrocortisone cream after I specifically asked them not to. I should’ve known better than to ask!

Mary got $64 worth of stuff that completely covered the desk. Between her stuff on the desk and mine on my bed, Mena’s jaw dropped when she walked by and saw all the shit. I said my thanks to Tom over and over again in my mind for making jail life a little more bearable.

After Mary showed me how, I trimmed my bangs with the nail clippers Mena gave me and forgot about. I never would’ve thought to trim them that way, and it’s so nice to have bangs again! It looks much better.

In case I forgot to mention it, Tom confirmed that Tina was full of shit when she said it was bad to put batteries on metal. I figured as much, anyway.

I heard on the radio that people with ADD, like myself, are more likely to have more injuries and medical problems, including asthma.

Mary’s so cool and so funny, too. She packed a pad with goodies for court so she’ll have something to munch on. She opened the pad’s outer liner and put in two sausage links, the comb I lent her, a little stubble of eyeliner, and a piece of lipstick she peeled off from her tube and wrapped inside a piece of plastic. That way she won’t risk losing the whole tube. She put this pad between 2 other pads. On the top pad, she poured red fruit punch to look like blood in case she gets checked.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 2, 2001
M203

So far, and I repeat, so far, the new year has taken a turn for the better. Everything’s fallen into place nicely, and I’m totally being compensated for how shitty and stressful things have been. My only fear is that it won’t last.

I’m in the best 2-man cell in M with a quiet, sane celly, I have my retainers now, Palma knows I like her, and she might like me, too. Either that or Mary G, my new celly, and I have Palma all wrong. She could still be straight and prejudiced for all I know.

First of all, as I figured I would, I got a letter from Bob. He’s still hopelessly fighting his case, hardly hearing from Kim, and not much else. He enclosed Kim’s address, but I’m not sure whether or not I want to write to either one of them again.

The New Year’s Day food wasn’t too bad with cereal for breakfast, pudding with lunch, and chicken for dinner.

I put in a tank to get a legal visit from the Women’s Network, but I doubt they can help me with getting an early release. They mainly specialize in getting drug offenders into rehabs or halfway houses upon their release, but it’s a half-hour I get to get out of here (even though this place isn’t as bad as some others).

I spoke to Tom on Monday afternoon. He has a cold because he let himself run out of vitamin C tablets. I wish I could be there for him! He said he was trying to save money, and I reminded him that cold medicine costs more than vitamin C tablets.

I’m still not sure what to make of Palma, but here’s the story. Yesterday, after dinner, Rogers came in and asked if I needed a bottom bunk. No, I told her. Fearing the worst – I was going to a 4-man cell in M, I told her I refused to go to one. Unexpectedly, this seemingly uncool DO asked, “What about if it’s just a 2-man cell?”

I said that’d be fine if it wasn’t with Melinda B. She left and I was begging God to keep me from being “extradited” to M. I even ran and hid under my covers as if that’d help me, as Carolyn said laughing. Nonetheless, shortly afterward, a male DO came and told me to roll up. I knew I lost the fight. On the way out, I ran across the pod to let Rosa and Tina know where I was headed, and Tina said she’d write to me at our PO Box.

While I waited by the tower, a young girl that I’d seen before in M, told me I was going to a 2-man cell with Mary, who was cool. She needed my lower bunk on the lower tier because she was pregnant, and there wasn’t any available in M.

So the guy gave me my paperwork and told me to go. Just outside A’s slider, Rogers said, “You know where to go, right?” I did, even though my heart was pounding with anxiety every step of the way. I was surprised they let me walk that far alone and enter M (the main entry door was popped) without anyone there waiting for me, wondering if it could be a DO who felt she knew and trusted me pretty well.

As soon as I saw the empty upper bunk in the lower 4-man, I automatically assumed that whoever the DO was had it in for me because most of them know I’m anti-big cell. I stood there by the tower, wondering just who the fuck chose me to come here to M Dorm out of the 5 of us that I knew of that were Ad-Seg.

Then the door opened up, out came the DO, and I was like – Palma? Since when does she ever work here?

The first thing I told her was that I wasn’t about to be thrown in a big cell, and she goes, “Relax. You’re not going in a 4-man cell. You’re going in 203 with G.”

“G? Who’s G?” I asked, and then I asked if she were crazy.

Palma said, “Well, she doesn’t take psych meds.”

Neither did my mother, so that doesn’t necessarily tell me anything.

This is my third time in M Dorm and never have I been searched upon entering it, but leave it to Palma, queen searcher, to search my shit. Knowing how by the book she is, I knew I could kiss a few things goodbye. She swiped my extra towel, my homemade washcloth, and a rubber band I had around a bottle.

She asked me about one of the books I’ve got. I told her I hadn’t read it yet and that she could check it out, but she said she’d wait till I read it and reviewed it for her.

On the way over I noticed my papers said that the reason I last went to A was that my cell in M was needed for a closed custody, but that was only the first time I left.

Deanna acted exactly as I knew she would – all smiles as I walked by. I certainly have no hard feelings towards her because she did do me a favor, after all.

So, I got up to the room, introduced myself, and knew Mary and I would probably keep in touch long after I got out.

MONDAY, JANUARY 1, 2001
Maricopa, AZ
Age 35
And now I’ve completed a third of my sentence. Got a long, long way to go yet! Got 120 more days/17 more weeks.

This is definitely the shittiest New Year of my life! To say that year 2000 was the shittiest year of my adult life is an understatement! And 2001 won’t be any better. Especially because I’ll have 4 months of it in here and not 2 like last year. This excludes any hell I’ve got to go through with the probation terms. Or “freeloader” terms, although this whole thing is one big freeloader term because as soon as I get out of here is as soon as I become a target again. These blacks aren’t going to quit with a 6-month jail sentence and probation. Nothing’s ever enough for people like them. I know how persistent and determined vindictive, and vengeful people can be. Even if I was 100% guilty of sending them a threatening letter – that’s no reason to throw someone’s life away for half a year, then put them on probation for another 2½ years. The punishment simply doesn’t fit the crime!

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Last updated July 12, 2024