F203

Last night after passing through the metal doors, a sense of calm came over my body. I was ready to get this shit over with. As I waited for my turn to be called, a man entered through the door. Glancing my direction he said: “I saw you in the paper”. After a small one-sided conversation about his thirty-six day sentence and weather curiosity, I was directed into another door. As I was about to turn my back, the man said slightly under his breath: “Good luck Dana”. The thought of how I never introduced myself to him pulled a trigger in my head, making me realize that people in here are waiting to read what I write.

After signing in, and agreeing to be nice and to mind my own business, I showered and was handed my new navy colored attire and croc shoes. I was handed a tote filled with bed sheets, which reminded me of my freshman year of college. I was also given items such as toilet paper, a tooth brush and a comb. I declined a second roll of toilet paper, due to my plan to keep my food and liquid intake low, as to not have to pee too much right next to my place of rest.

Following behind the officer, we entered the housing unit. We came upon a large open space filled with tables and chairs; Seinfeld was playing on the television. Scattered groups of women sat around the tables coloring images of Scooby-Doo and Disney princesses. Cells lined the perimeter of the open space and were stacked two stories high. Up the stairs we walked, where the officer assigned me a cell. Explaining a couple of rules, she left me to figure out the rest for myself.

The remainder of the evening I spent searching the old coloring books for blank pages to write on as well as browsing through used books and movies. A little television sits next to the table of books that they use to show exercise tapes. Jane Fonda's Start Up VHS sat on top of the pile. I guess girls in here have been trying to get in shape since the 80's. Sitting at one of the empty tables, I started to write down the characteristics of my surroundings. With the rest of the women randomly wandering around, I didn't pay too much attention to what they were doing. With my head stuck in my paper, I was spooked by a loud voice yelling out swear words, and (in a nice way), repeating threats of “mind your own business” to the woman across from me. Minding MY own business (like I signed up for), I just took notes and watched it unfold from the corner of my eye. 10 minutes passed and it seemed the air had calmed down. Trying to write seemed too difficult with the distractions of the TV and the women surrounding me. I headed to my cell, which I like to call my dorm room, to write and listen to the radio for the rest of the evening. In and out of writing, I glanced at the pages of my newest book. Adam Steele: Bloody Border. There's nothing like ending your evening reading snippets about widowers and the blood they wanted to spill... eek!... maybe not the best reading material for here.

Lights out at 12:30am, but the radio plays through the darkness. I guess you could say Michael Jackson and Fergie sang me to sleep.

This morning up at 6:30am like normal, newspaper, diet pepsi and TV... not the worst yet.