January 13, 2013. 6am.

Approaching the Finsh Line, and More to Go.

With this day almost complete, I find it hard to hoard the energy to finish. Overloaded with production at work and wanting to throw up from the smell of over buttered burnt popcorn, I sent my last emails and sipped down my final sodas for the day, in hopes of clicking my brian into tolerating the rest of my jail time. I Should have started drinking soda earlier in the day, sitting here typing, I'm forced to listen, even through my headphones, to a woman complaining about how her husband stole her last cookie. You want a cookie lady? I'll get you a goddamn cookie.

Over the past week my emotional level has turned me into a verbal snapping turtle. It's hard to stay calm about things when you spend your nights sleeping on foam board, and having to watch TV while listening to repeated incomplete conversations. Jail isn't something that is physically demanding, but is an emotionally damaging roller coaster. While inside, taking a few low blows has definitely gotten to my head, which I'm sure has happened to many a few. My words to the public have definitely pissed people off, but these words have also opened conversations from those who've shared similar trials as mine. With these two sides fighting, it makes my mental cradle rock. One second you're ok with the idea of being locked up for the crime you've committed, but then the next it seems like you'd do anything to take it back; there's no winning in jail.

This week has truly tested my ability to stay afloat. With working 40 hours, running the gallery through emails and phone calls, as well as taking on the stress of following rules and regulations of being contained, there's no more energy to go around. Work release has been my savior within this whole process, but with having to juggle real life with temporary life, it's still proven to be a great challenge. I'm not about to let 10 days in jail damage years of effort I've put in to creating the person I am today. Yes, I've made mistakes and I'm sure you have too, but I'm over those mistakes and doing time in jail is just something a lot of us have to do. Knowing that this time I'm spending was in my near future, I wanted to turn the tables on it by sharing my reactions with people who cared to read. It's definitely not a walk in the park, but it's also not comparable to being burned at the stake. Just don't fuck up and you won't have to find out.

When you read this I will be finishing my last several hours within the county jail. It's so close it almost makes me anxiously sick to the point that it can be hard to hold down sleep for the night. Not wanting to eat much to keep my energy low, I snack on small chips and fruit. I'm hoping to keep this low enthusiasm going since, I'm not having to wake up in the morning and report to work. I'll be able to sleep more steadily through the next day to ignore the thoughts of the hours getting more and more decreased.

But once I wake up Saturday morning it will be less than 24 hours till my release, and till I feel like myself again. Over this time I'm thankful for my friends, family, and coworkers for the support through emails, phone calls, and conversation. Also to my readers who I know, and to those who I've never met, thank you for the random emails of humorous fuck-ups and serious matters. The month of January has already thrown me in circles without wanting to dance. But with it not stopping anytime soon, I plan to take things as they come, no matter how rough the road may be. It's all smooth sailing from here.

"Cheated Hearts" - Yeahs Yeahs Yeahs 

They Come and They Go

It's Thursday, and I'm happy to say after today I only have two more days left of being held inside the clink. I'm ready to get rid of my constant nose bleeds from the dry jail air, I know they must import it from McShitville. I hope to spend Friday being completely overloaded at work till my brain explodes, and in the evening, confining myself to my private dorm room to finish up my newly composed artist statement. How many other artists can say they've written their statement while in jail? I'm sure not too many, so I do plan to milk that for what it's worth.

With tomorrow marking a week of being incarcerated, I've seen ladies come and go out of the housing unit. Even though I haven't known these women for very long, and not to say I like them or they like me, I still got a tiny glimpse into who they are, and once they've left, the space seems to change. But when it comes down to it, it's not always how long you spent inside, but what you choose to do once you've escaped (in a legal way). I plan to hang out with Murphy and draw picture; that's a good thing so I must be cured.

Bring these to me!

But with these big plans on hold till Sunday morning, I will wait for tomorrow to come. I'm excited for my last day of work release, and in case you hadn't heard, I will be taking Diet Pepsi donations throughout the day. My plan is to pump my veins so full that I will hopefully survive until Sunday morning. Cross your fingers.

Girls

--> Today, I found myself at work with a stomach full of soda and coffee. Hopefully in an hour or so I've placed myself smack dap in the middle of a soda coma, so as to sleep better tonight. You would think it would be the opposite, but with the amount of stress that my body has encountered over the past week, any trigger can cause it to crash. Work seems to be going slower today, I hate to get the thought of soon returning to the real world too early. It's like they say, “don't count your eggs before they've hatched,” very similar to when your counting down your days in the clink.

When returning from work tonight I'll make sure to keep my mouth shut about my limited time outside the holding cell today. Yesterday I made the mistake of mentioning the food I was able to eat, and with the rest of the girls forced to eat watered down soup with peas and carrots for lunch, let's just say I wouldn't have been picked first to play the friendship game. A day or two ago I thought the number one killer of being incarcerated was the idea of confinement, but I'm now learning jealousy is a close runner up. You're not going to make many friends if you get any visitors, have the nicer shampoo, or even if you choose the television channel that the majority of the time no one watches.

You thought the girl sitting next to you in science class might not like the idea of you getting a better grade then her, try having 12 girls you live with, by no choice, be jealous of the extra butter you got at dinner. Learn that girls can be crazy no matter where you are, it's just the level of crazy that can change.

For example, last night the topic of conversation was men, I guess the majority of the time the conversations deal with dudes. I understand a few of these ladies have been inside the bars for a while now, and miss the idea of the male population. Sometimes even watching TV gets to be a challenge. I could see yes, Mark Wahlberg or Johnny Depp coming onto the television and hearing, “oh, he's pretty cute,” but it's when we're watching the local news and scopping out the up and coming criminals, hoping to get a glimpse of them in the hallway or through in the window while in recreation. I guess there is a Jack for every Jill, but sometimes when there's only three Jacks and three Jills, your options are as slim as early winter ice.

Christmas in January

Today is the closest thing to Christmas morning for an adult as you can get. After waking up to blinding lights up top my ceiling and ignoring the breakfast bell I stayed in to complete my morning routine in time for my first day of work release. Finally getting to step back into my jeans and murphy vest reminded me to not take my identity for granted. Being welcomed to work with coffee and soda was like opening my first presents at Christmas and getting the new bike and dolly I had been asking for.

With the rest of work being spent catching up on assignments, I took time on my breaks to talk to my family and friends. With recognizing their support I was unable to compose a fully detailed blog. First things first, and family and friends should always be on the top of that list.

With the feeling of my independence some what back I know the rest of the week should fly by and the thought of early Sunday morning coffee at Perkins would soon be approaching.

Stories From the Sharing Circle

This morning a headache the size of your momma blew through my head, pulsing through my brain like a balloon being blown up over and over. It was a rougher morning than the last; I skipped breakfast to rest. In and out of sleep, my headache remained. Removing myself from the miniscule mattress I sleep on, I washed my face and cleaned my teeth.There was another 30 minutes till we were released from our cells, I just waited. I started to become too focused on my impatience. Being here for one and a half days, I have begun to understand how the idea of confinement can take your emotional status to a downfall. I consider myself a very emotionally strong person, and I found it hard at times to imagine having no other options than to be here. That's why mothers send their children to their rooms when they've misbehaved. It's because the children go crazy in there, so they learn their lesson. Same as in here, but instead we're all adults.

As the day continued, my relationships with the other girls started to open. I found myself inside gossip of: “she said, he said”, and emotional stories of crime, children, and even cancer. The majority of women in here are not too much younger or older than myself. With experiences ranging from years of being in and out of jail, insecure households, abusive relationships, to addiction. It makes us think as humans how far we have to go to improve ourselves. They say it starts with our surroundings, which is why they put you in here. But for some it seems the scars are too deep to be fixed with just “sitting time”. Since I've been here phone messages regarding deceased boyfriends, cheating husbands, and family problems flood the phone lines. Angry outbursts followed by tears fill the housing unit. With nowhere else to go I find myself being involved in the situations due to just being another person in the room. You never realize how hard life can be until you feel the experience of it through the mouth of it's victims. The women who I call my roommates are incarcerated for offenses ranging from drug trafficking, trespassing, to arson. With 10 other women sitting in the Sharing Circle, I could overflow 10 blogs with the intense stories I've been told.

Do any of them intimidate or scare me? No, because I know that at the end of the day we are all somewhat similar; we all need to be fixed sometimes.

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.

Step Two: Removing Metal

This morning I woke up at the 6 a.m. hour with the extreme feeling of nervousness through my body, sending little shocks of pain to places that have never been bruised before. Trying to keep calm and be nice I kept my breathing down to a healthy pace. I feel people have a tendency to panic too quickly and instantly stress about their surroundings. With that thought, my brain, which I like to call my swift kick sensor, kicked me out of bed. A few sodas and a couple kitty kisses later I was starting to understand the day ahead. Sitting and watching TV I learned that if any one is feeling stressed or doubtful they should watch that show True Life on MTV, it's an instant self-esteem booster. That's what they should show people in jail; gather them in a group and get them to feel a little better about themselves, maybe a therapy session of all True Life. Maybe I can put that in the suggestion box next to the front door.

Later at work a few more scattered conversations came up of past run-ins and adolescent adventures. I'm starting to hear the same advice of “staying upbeat”, “keeping my head up straight”, and “making a good thing out of a bad”. But sitting in the break room typing my introduction I was approached by a women I had never even seen at my work place before. She asked about the blog and what people were saying. After a few minutes of talking she told me how playing the piano is what calms her in a similar way that writing does for me. She left our conversation congratulating me with having the courage to write.

With my music player fully charged I filled the rest of my day with cola calories and popcorn snacks. I'm not going to lie and say constant thoughts of what lay ahead wasn't entering my mind, but with my music playing and my stuff nicely packed for the coming week, I was ready to jump in head first without hitting my head on the bottom and finish this experience.

Piercings out, hair combed, and teeth brushed I was ready to spend my final minutes at home watching TV and snuggling with the kitty. I wrote down emails and passwords to give to my ghost writer for the weekend. Through weekend visitations, verbal blogs will be given and then typed within that day. Monday I will return to the computer to type, breathe fresh air, and drink coffee and soda.

Pretty settled on the idea of not being at home, I approached my new and not improved temporary home. I grabbed my jacket while stepping from the car, “ see you in ten days”.

No Turning Back Now ...Opps

With the first day of the blog up and running to the public I found many responses of interest and awkwardness. Making my normal 7a.m. trek to the local Cenex gas station for my morning soda and to purchase the days' Mankato Free Press, I snatched up the paper from its pile and almost vomited from the surprise of seeing the front of my stunned-face kisser. The title Blogging From Jail in bold letters didn't leave much for the imagination. Swallowing back the emotional vomit in my mouth I went to pay for my publication. I slowly slid the paper onto the counter and before I had the chance to cover my new profile pic with my winter gloves, the 20 some year old attendant had to open with the question, “Isn't that you?” while hesitantly pointing to my picture. I answered her the truth and she followed with, “well what are you doing here?”

“I'm just getting the paper.” I answered. I then grabbed my things and was on my way. I should have said, “If you really want to know READ THE BLOG” in my best Louis Black voice.

Getting to work I'll admit I was a little nervous to see the reaction of my co-workers. I'm not a big talker when it comes to my work environment. But through the day of poster printing and banner making I found myself being approached by a hand full of co-workers that I'd never talked to for more then 2 minutes since my start of working there. People were sensing vulnerability from the blog to the point of approaching me with interest. Stories being told to me of hard times and anger. People were voicing their stories to me; opening themselves up to a stranger. Like I've, said I'm not a very open person, but in the span of one day, this blog has opened a flood tunnel of past emotions, not just from me but from other people. I'm not quite sure where it will lead in the next few weeks, but I know the more open I get with you, the more open you will be with me. I'm not sure if i'm ready for that, but the blog is very quickly turning into an easily accessible social experiment.

As the night went on, errands consisting of picking up retainers for my piercing and drinking my final cups of coffee took up space in time and in my mind. My phone continues to ring with messages of worry expressed through swear words and question marks. Everything is ok, the experiment is in full start mode, and I can already see it's future progression.

Today proved that I'm not the only one who's had experiences that have switched from good to “bad” in a heartbeat. But that's the nice thing about a heartbeat; they happen in a swift kick, either in the ass or in the mind, where it lands is up to you. 

The dots in this photo represent my co-workers who spoke with me about their stories before 2pm. Red dots representing females and blue dots males. Through the day more dots developed.

  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wRFe-4kfJpQ



 

Step One: Drawing Diagrams

Today I woke up with the feeling of a fist in the center of my spare tire, and not because I'd been holding my urine for 9 hours, but from anxiety of knowing I'd have to release that 9 hour hoarding session in front of a few non entertained spectators. Nothing like getting up in the morning and peeing in public. And with Murphy sent off on his winter wonderland vacation, (a.k.a my moms house) I didn't have to venture outside to be his non entertained spectator.

Murphy off to Vacation

Once at work after the deeds had been done it was still hard to get my focus off the fist in my center section and pay attention to the 4 foot printouts of carrots and cabbages I was producing. While my whale of a digital printer hummed along, my stare began to blurred and the images of a low calorie diet turned into images of a room baring a bed of bricks and dinner consisting of cardboard cakes, and I know putting more ketchup on it isn't going to make it taste any better. Daydreaming of all orange outfits and knowing I was soon to be the newest addition to Mankato's human pound was painting a pretty good picture in my brain.

Writing While Being Watched

Later at home I drew out my soda smuggling spaces for the next week or so; a girl can never over plan when it comes to her daily needs. It consists of a diagram drawn of work shelves and compartments to hide the tasty liquid treats, as well as a bag or two of after holiday chex mix, and bags of fruitcake without the cake part. I'm not eating paper with a side of salt for too many days in a row. But you never know what comes out of certain shitty cell situations. I might meet my new best friend, or pen pal. They might have a rich uncle thats really into art and wants to give a large amount money to an awesome local gallery thats run by an awesome local person.

Drinking a lot of coffee tonight, not to provide for a public pee session, but to get my fix since there be no caffeinated coffee behind them bars, (which should be a crime in and of itself). Plans for coffee cover drawings will surround my small space to help with that missing feel. It's now countdown time, but it's not time to count me out.

Soda Smuggling Spaces (Diagram)

One Month to Go

  My first morning of 2013 is full of early morning dog wrestling and over flowing cups of coffee. I rang in the new year last night with close friends and a wood burning fire. With my soda can at my side and my dance partner off doing salsa circles by himself, my eyes made the rounds across the wood grained dance floor. Felt and feathered masks of foxes, kitties, and wolverine were to a cover every ones faces. It made me fell I was ringing in the new year with my movie collection from home. I guess the theme of the gathering was cover your face and dance with the person dressed as the same species as you; people strolled from space to space pointing up at the decorative taxidermy and feeding a little wine from the bag to our four legged friends.

Kitty Mask 

 But no matter how or who you start your new year with it's about what you'll end up doing with this coming year. With me I'm not thinking about this year, I'm thinking about this month. The month of January you could say is going to be like a pogo stick, up and down super fast till I eventually fall and hit my head and cry. But then I'll follow that by getting back up and doing it again.

 With this blog I'm sure I wont spell everything correctly or have the appropriate grammar but it's more about understanding how people and their lives can change in such a short amount of time and how when your even forced to change you need to find a way to stay yourself.