So as you all very well may have heard by now, Jordan, (NightHawk) has been released from jail. I am now on the street looking fly and looking fly and talking gibberish. Some of you have even seen me out and about here and there in the past 8 or 9 days that I have been out, and we have gotten a chance to chat and catch up which has been so absolutely great for me,you have no idea. The week and a half since I have been out has almost gone exactly the way I had hoped it would. I was released and got to spend a good week with my family here in Orange County. I then went to San Diego to spend some time with my Grandparents and also took a trip up to another favorite spot of mine. And now I am going to be returning to work this upcoming monday the 2nd of Febuary. I have found it just too hard at this time to put up the rest of the blog entries I wrote in jail,and will eventually. But I am more than that looking forward to sharing with you all stories from my adventures out here in the real world!
I will tell you that just in the last little bit since I have been out, I have managed to have some pretty epic experiences. Nightclubs and V.I.P. lounges in Hollywood (my "welcome back" parties) and various other nightlife meltdowns all over the place. Fires,vomit,cowboys,music,and lots of friends and food. And a whole lot security guards,bouncers and girls. I am quite happy to tell you that the Jordan I was once before I went to jail is slowly coming back but only in a good way. If you ever knew me in any capacity before then you know the kind of ridiculous mayhem I can get into,and that I am very good spirited fun loving guy who loves more than to just make people laugh and have a good time. And although when I first got back, I was still kinda weird about big crowds and everything,I am working my way back into it.
I wish I could tel you that it's all been great since I have been back. But I am also really very much looking forward to touching on some sensitive subjects that I have been able to experience since I have been back. I can honestly say that I am truly thankful to God for being free and being back in the area I was at before, but there is definately a strong feeling of disapointment surrounding my return in regards to certain people and places and situations. I have alot of friends that have moved away do the economy and family problems. People I know have really struggled to make ends meet during this time. People I love and truly value are fighting serious problems like addiction, gambling debts, legal problems. And people I know have even gone the route of suicide in my absence. It has been great coming back,don't get me wrong,but it has also in alot of ways been extremely challenging on many levels. And I am in alot of ways just trying to still deal with reality of being back in general.
There are alot of things that people that read this blog don't know about me,geez there are alot of things that I don't fully know about myself. And while I am not going to make too much of a serious effort to go in depth into sharing with you all my understanding of these aspects of my being that I am continually learning,I do hope that through my writing you may just come to learn soem of them yourself. You will find that I am not a perfect guy(believe it or not). I am in fact not that great of a guy all together at times and now that I am in charge of writing AND posting AND editing my entire blog I dont' have anyone to take out things that may make me look bad. But I will always be honest. I will still do my best to edit out any swearing that is involved in any of the entries,and any explicit material,to the best of my ability. But I just want tolet you all know right now that I may not always turn out the hero of these true stories. I am human. I am selfish and self-centered and vain and even rude and bratty sometimes. I don't drink or use drugs anymore. But I do swear from time to time,and I do play outragously over the top pranks on complete strangers that aren't always in the best of taste and could easily go wrong and hurt someone.
I get involved with horribly dramatic women,usually in multiples, and I proceed to go crazy in the situations I create. Basically what I am saying is that I will always tell you the truth. I don't want to pretend that I am as great a guy as I would like to. I am still very much a man who loves his God and am always praying and asking for guidence and wisdom and blessings. I am always seeking a better understanding of my personal relationship with my higher power. But with everything around us today it's not always that easy and I try to remain as aware of that fact as possible. And I just ask that all of you make an effort to do the same.
Also, I just ask that you all forgive me in some of my spelling and grammar. I no longer have an editor and proofreader so I very well may not always make sense for the pure and simple fact I cannot spell or command grammar.lol. But yeah, I will work on it. So with that, I want to first thank everyone who has been a reader of my blog over the past months and months of my incarceration. I really appreciate everything form the letters and books and prayers and always enjoy hearing from you all. And please stay tuned because here is where it has potential to really get good. And to everyone who is just reading this blog for the first time, hi. My name is Jordan. My friends call me NightHawk. Anything you need to know about my life up to this point that is of any importance to understanding my blog can be found in the past entries located here. I hope you can find the time to read them and comment on them.
And without further waiting or prolongment, Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Jordan, and this is www.jordansinjail.blogspot.com. Please check back frequently. And I will be seeing you reall soon.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Pictures of Cats(Jan. 14)
Well so...I am definitely back. And doing quite well considering the latter. But it wasn't always like this as I am sure you all very well know. What I am posting are the last three blog entries that I wrote from jail. I was released early very early on the morning of January 19 2009. These next few entries were written on January 14, 15, and 16. To be honest with you, it was really hard to input these. Not only because it has been quite some time since I have really got down to business and used a computer,but because while I was typing these entries out I had to in some small way re-visit the mindset that I occupied when I wrote them. Which was not easy. Everything about where I just came from is still with me in a not so small way I am finding out now. Which is not exactly how I pictured my return being, but I guess that's just how it is sometimes. But I will let you read these Before I get too much into how things are now,because in these entries I am still in jail remember?
January 14,2009
Well American Idol is back! Which I have to admit is a guilty pleasure of mine. We are lucky enough to catch what was left of it after the Lakers game last night. Because sports usually comes first here. I personally am not a huge sports fan. I especially am not a big fan of football. I am not too proud to admit that I don't fully grasp the rules and terminology of it. With all the "first downs" and "penalties" and what not. I do like baseball and basketball games,but if your actually there. Not a fan of watching them on TV. I like the Lakers,but I could live with just hearing the next day, "oh the Lakers won" or "oh the Lakers lost". I don't really have to watch it. I would rather watch American Idol! They now have a fourth judge whose name I don't know. She sits right in between Randy and Paula, and as far as I can tell she hasn't made a noticable contribution to this season. But it was the first episode so we'll give her a break and a little time to get comfortable. But overall it seemed to be a typical season starter. I am excited to see what comes of it in the following weeks. But after tonight I am just going to watch it from home,or atleast not from jail. Today is also my cellmate Rico's birthday. He turns 26 today. We had first dayroom and we sung him Happy Birthday. He told me this is his fourth consecutive birthday spent in jail. And he last had a real birthday party not in jail when he turned 21. I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. I think I am going to wait until it is no longer his birthday to explain to him again about if he stops smoking meth and obscounding from probation, his chances of not being in jail for Christmas ,New Year's, and his birthday for a fifth year in a row greatly improve. I've tried explaining a few times before, but I could see my dialogue going in one ear and out the other behind his blank "nobody's home" expression. I am convinced that when I tell him anything of any real importance that could potentially benefit or enrich his life and future,it just comes out sounding like Charlie Brown's teacher in The Peanuts Gang to Rico. "Wah wah wah waaah waaah waaaaaah?"All the while that blank expression with the hint of a smile is on his face that leads me to believe that he's probably thinking about cats with birthday hats or clothes on or bears riding uni-cycles or something of that nature. God bless him. If you wanna know what mine and Rico's relationship is like,it's kinda like I am spending an afternoon with somebody else's six or seven year old child who I am meeting for the first time. And other times it's kinda like Lenny and George from "Of Mice and Men" except I am not nearly as mean as the George character and Rico is not huge, and has no percievable redeeming value like being a hard worker. A typical conversation between Rico and I goes as such:
(Rico mumbling to himself with a look of deep concentration)
Jordan:Whatcha doin' over there buddy? Who ya talkin' to?
Rico:Nobody. I was just thinking about something.
J:Oh yeah? What's that in your hand?(I notice he is holding his favorite cat picture)
R:It's a CAAAAT! Look at it! Hu-huh-huh-huuuuuuh-aaaaahh!(His laughter continues for another minute or so) Look at it! Look what its doing!
J:I know right? That's funny huh buddy?I've seen this add he is holding,probably 200 times now,it's of a cat clutching itself as if it has to use the restroom.
R:Yeeee-aaaaah! I am going to put it up on the wall so we, soooo we can see it all the time!!! Heeeee! Hee hee ehh huh huhhuh!!
J:Nooooo...remember the deputy said that you can't put it up anymore. Or your going to get a write up remember buddy?
R:What if I put it up over here by my bed?What about right here bunky? Under here?
J:Well I don't want you to get in trouble bud. Remember what the deputy said? It's up to you to risk it.
R:Naaaaaw...ok I won't put it up again. But look at what it's doing!!!(Explodes into luaghter again)
I have had that same conversation with, probably about a hundred times. Between waking him up for count time and chow, and telling him how to spell words like "wow" and "read",it's like being a teacher sometimes. A special ED teacher I guess. I speak somewhat fondly of him sometimes,but don't get me wrong,he's absolutely detestable. Although he's gotten better,he's still pretty gross. But I would be like if I said I don't in soem small way like the goofy bastard. And I will probably will also in some small, small small,small way miss looking after him when I leave. I almost worry a little bit, that his new bunky won't know to wake him up to go to chow and dayroom. Or that his new cellmate will be mean to him. But that's just because my stupid heart is too big for it's own good sometimes. I'll tell you one thing though, I am not going to stick around here any longer than I have to to make sure Rico is ok. But I might send him some funny pictures of cats once I am released. That's all for today. I literally have to right now wake up Rico for chow! Checking another day off the old calender. Another day down,another day closer to home. See ya later.
January 14,2009
Well American Idol is back! Which I have to admit is a guilty pleasure of mine. We are lucky enough to catch what was left of it after the Lakers game last night. Because sports usually comes first here. I personally am not a huge sports fan. I especially am not a big fan of football. I am not too proud to admit that I don't fully grasp the rules and terminology of it. With all the "first downs" and "penalties" and what not. I do like baseball and basketball games,but if your actually there. Not a fan of watching them on TV. I like the Lakers,but I could live with just hearing the next day, "oh the Lakers won" or "oh the Lakers lost". I don't really have to watch it. I would rather watch American Idol! They now have a fourth judge whose name I don't know. She sits right in between Randy and Paula, and as far as I can tell she hasn't made a noticable contribution to this season. But it was the first episode so we'll give her a break and a little time to get comfortable. But overall it seemed to be a typical season starter. I am excited to see what comes of it in the following weeks. But after tonight I am just going to watch it from home,or atleast not from jail. Today is also my cellmate Rico's birthday. He turns 26 today. We had first dayroom and we sung him Happy Birthday. He told me this is his fourth consecutive birthday spent in jail. And he last had a real birthday party not in jail when he turned 21. I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. I think I am going to wait until it is no longer his birthday to explain to him again about if he stops smoking meth and obscounding from probation, his chances of not being in jail for Christmas ,New Year's, and his birthday for a fifth year in a row greatly improve. I've tried explaining a few times before, but I could see my dialogue going in one ear and out the other behind his blank "nobody's home" expression. I am convinced that when I tell him anything of any real importance that could potentially benefit or enrich his life and future,it just comes out sounding like Charlie Brown's teacher in The Peanuts Gang to Rico. "Wah wah wah waaah waaah waaaaaah?"All the while that blank expression with the hint of a smile is on his face that leads me to believe that he's probably thinking about cats with birthday hats or clothes on or bears riding uni-cycles or something of that nature. God bless him. If you wanna know what mine and Rico's relationship is like,it's kinda like I am spending an afternoon with somebody else's six or seven year old child who I am meeting for the first time. And other times it's kinda like Lenny and George from "Of Mice and Men" except I am not nearly as mean as the George character and Rico is not huge, and has no percievable redeeming value like being a hard worker. A typical conversation between Rico and I goes as such:
(Rico mumbling to himself with a look of deep concentration)
Jordan:Whatcha doin' over there buddy? Who ya talkin' to?
Rico:Nobody. I was just thinking about something.
J:Oh yeah? What's that in your hand?(I notice he is holding his favorite cat picture)
R:It's a CAAAAT! Look at it! Hu-huh-huh-huuuuuuh-aaaaahh!(His laughter continues for another minute or so) Look at it! Look what its doing!
J:I know right? That's funny huh buddy?I've seen this add he is holding,probably 200 times now,it's of a cat clutching itself as if it has to use the restroom.
R:Yeeee-aaaaah! I am going to put it up on the wall so we, soooo we can see it all the time!!! Heeeee! Hee hee ehh huh huhhuh!!
J:Nooooo...remember the deputy said that you can't put it up anymore. Or your going to get a write up remember buddy?
R:What if I put it up over here by my bed?What about right here bunky? Under here?
J:Well I don't want you to get in trouble bud. Remember what the deputy said? It's up to you to risk it.
R:Naaaaaw...ok I won't put it up again. But look at what it's doing!!!(Explodes into luaghter again)
I have had that same conversation with, probably about a hundred times. Between waking him up for count time and chow, and telling him how to spell words like "wow" and "read",it's like being a teacher sometimes. A special ED teacher I guess. I speak somewhat fondly of him sometimes,but don't get me wrong,he's absolutely detestable. Although he's gotten better,he's still pretty gross. But I would be like if I said I don't in soem small way like the goofy bastard. And I will probably will also in some small, small small,small way miss looking after him when I leave. I almost worry a little bit, that his new bunky won't know to wake him up to go to chow and dayroom. Or that his new cellmate will be mean to him. But that's just because my stupid heart is too big for it's own good sometimes. I'll tell you one thing though, I am not going to stick around here any longer than I have to to make sure Rico is ok. But I might send him some funny pictures of cats once I am released. That's all for today. I literally have to right now wake up Rico for chow! Checking another day off the old calender. Another day down,another day closer to home. See ya later.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
The Price Ain't Right
Written January 14, 2009
I am watching The Price Is Right from my cell. I am stuck in my cell until 5:00 pm but luckily for me I can very clearly see the television in the dayroom. Anyway, Drew Carey is the host now, whatever. An ex-girlfriend of mine went on the show and won the "showcase showdown" and won a boat and a trip to Hawaii and all kinds of crap. But whenever I think of The Price Is Right, I think about the misery I have been wearing on me for all to see over the past months I have been in jail. I think about Bob Barker. Bob Barker and his millions, and how he is still profiting from the misery I wear and the visible discomfort of many, many more. Now I did bring this misery upon myself. We all did. It's just Bob Barker whose made it possible to live in this uniform depression we all share here in the Orange County jail system.
Rumor has it that old Booby owns a few clothing companies. There's "Barker's Blues" and "BBC" (which stands for Bob Barker Clothing). They make blue jean jackets, work boots, black socks, white boxers, blue pants, orange pants, orange slip-on shoes, blue smock, top shirts, orange smock top shirts and possibly more. Now the reason that you won't be able to go out and buy yourself some "Barkers" is because Bob Barker's clothing company has exclusive contracts to make all the clothing and shoes for every inmate that's in jail in Orange County.
And now, I am certain about OC, but the Bob Barker Company may make the clothes for other counties as well. I've never been to jail in any other county, nor do I have any desire to do so. Can it be true that Bob Barker, that smiling white haired old man with the voice that's as smooth a button dipped in gold from the Price is Right has literally cornered the market on jail clothing in OC? And it'd be one thing if it was something he could be proud of. But you never hear someone who just got out of jail singing the praises of Bob Barker and how great the clothes there were. BBC specializes in clothes that can be worn over a billion different times by millions of different people and not get any more comfy, only more shot out. BBC specializes in pants that are either too short with a loose waist or too long with a tight waist. The shoes are actually alright, for like a week! And that's if by some crazy twist of fate you're the one in a million that the gods smile on who somehow received a brand new pair.
To be fair to this patriarch of cheesy old game show hosts who are somehow still alive far past their usefulness there very well could be some other guy named Bob Barker whose making the clothes of criminals. And when I say "making" what I mean is he collects checks while 7 and 8 year-old Malaysian kids work 16 hours a day at 3.2 cents an hour or whatever the going rate is. That's right people, I don't have proof, but when one puts on jail clothes, you can just tell that they were made by little hands.
I have no beef with Bob. I am sure he's a swell guy. Driving out to his Palm Springs home for a week in his Cadillac, all of it paid for by his participation in a turn of the century game show he was on for too long and possib ly his hand in clothing the criminals of Orange County. I don't know. Something about that seems shady. I am not sure what exactly, but it's hard to see Bob Barker the same way now. H just looks wily and shyster to me now. Even if he has absolutely nothing to do with it at all except for it being his money that started the whole thing and his name on the stuff, it's still bad.
Pretty much anything that has to do with the OCSD is shifty and underhanded in some way or another. I don't care if you're hired just to change the jail's light bulbs twice a month, you're dirty somehow.
So when I see Bob, think about Bob, or actually Drew Carey for that matter, the words "the price is freedom" come to my mind. And that price, ain't right! And I ain't payin' anymore Bob! I may have destroyed a lot of your clothes in my time, surely making it so the county had to buy more eventually. But no more! I am outta here! I am going to be destroying my own clothes soon! Well not like...you know what I mean! Bob! My misery isn't going to pay for your golf clubs anymore!
Geez, I'm sorry. did you see how quickly it turned on Bob Barker? I really have no real reason to dirct my anger at him. Sorry Bob. I'm just getting out soon, and I guess I'm a little excitable. I'm going to stop now.
I am watching The Price Is Right from my cell. I am stuck in my cell until 5:00 pm but luckily for me I can very clearly see the television in the dayroom. Anyway, Drew Carey is the host now, whatever. An ex-girlfriend of mine went on the show and won the "showcase showdown" and won a boat and a trip to Hawaii and all kinds of crap. But whenever I think of The Price Is Right, I think about the misery I have been wearing on me for all to see over the past months I have been in jail. I think about Bob Barker. Bob Barker and his millions, and how he is still profiting from the misery I wear and the visible discomfort of many, many more. Now I did bring this misery upon myself. We all did. It's just Bob Barker whose made it possible to live in this uniform depression we all share here in the Orange County jail system.
Rumor has it that old Booby owns a few clothing companies. There's "Barker's Blues" and "BBC" (which stands for Bob Barker Clothing). They make blue jean jackets, work boots, black socks, white boxers, blue pants, orange pants, orange slip-on shoes, blue smock, top shirts, orange smock top shirts and possibly more. Now the reason that you won't be able to go out and buy yourself some "Barkers" is because Bob Barker's clothing company has exclusive contracts to make all the clothing and shoes for every inmate that's in jail in Orange County.
And now, I am certain about OC, but the Bob Barker Company may make the clothes for other counties as well. I've never been to jail in any other county, nor do I have any desire to do so. Can it be true that Bob Barker, that smiling white haired old man with the voice that's as smooth a button dipped in gold from the Price is Right has literally cornered the market on jail clothing in OC? And it'd be one thing if it was something he could be proud of. But you never hear someone who just got out of jail singing the praises of Bob Barker and how great the clothes there were. BBC specializes in clothes that can be worn over a billion different times by millions of different people and not get any more comfy, only more shot out. BBC specializes in pants that are either too short with a loose waist or too long with a tight waist. The shoes are actually alright, for like a week! And that's if by some crazy twist of fate you're the one in a million that the gods smile on who somehow received a brand new pair.
To be fair to this patriarch of cheesy old game show hosts who are somehow still alive far past their usefulness there very well could be some other guy named Bob Barker whose making the clothes of criminals. And when I say "making" what I mean is he collects checks while 7 and 8 year-old Malaysian kids work 16 hours a day at 3.2 cents an hour or whatever the going rate is. That's right people, I don't have proof, but when one puts on jail clothes, you can just tell that they were made by little hands.
I have no beef with Bob. I am sure he's a swell guy. Driving out to his Palm Springs home for a week in his Cadillac, all of it paid for by his participation in a turn of the century game show he was on for too long and possib ly his hand in clothing the criminals of Orange County. I don't know. Something about that seems shady. I am not sure what exactly, but it's hard to see Bob Barker the same way now. H just looks wily and shyster to me now. Even if he has absolutely nothing to do with it at all except for it being his money that started the whole thing and his name on the stuff, it's still bad.
Pretty much anything that has to do with the OCSD is shifty and underhanded in some way or another. I don't care if you're hired just to change the jail's light bulbs twice a month, you're dirty somehow.
So when I see Bob, think about Bob, or actually Drew Carey for that matter, the words "the price is freedom" come to my mind. And that price, ain't right! And I ain't payin' anymore Bob! I may have destroyed a lot of your clothes in my time, surely making it so the county had to buy more eventually. But no more! I am outta here! I am going to be destroying my own clothes soon! Well not like...you know what I mean! Bob! My misery isn't going to pay for your golf clubs anymore!
Geez, I'm sorry. did you see how quickly it turned on Bob Barker? I really have no real reason to dirct my anger at him. Sorry Bob. I'm just getting out soon, and I guess I'm a little excitable. I'm going to stop now.
No Patience
Written January 13, 2009
Here's something kinda funny. At the farm I would sometimes get behind in entries, and do a few in one day for several different days. Well right now I have no patience to do much of anything but write, and I am actually ahead in entries. So today is going to have two entries. One of them about what's going on here today (short, because nothing really happens here) and one just because.
So I finally got my stitches and stutures taken out today! And my mouth feels great! I am only the smallest bit swollen, but it should be completely fine by the time I am released and my mouth should be in complete working order.
I am very excited to start using it immediately after my release for many different purposes. And I plan on practicing my eating over the next few days I am here. One thing I did just notice on my way from the mod to the dentist was that my friend K. who I knew from Musick has been transferred somewhere else. I walked by cell #__ where he sleeps and there was no bed or anything on his bunk. Which bums me out, because, again, I didn't really get to say bye. That happens a lot here; it's just part of the deal here. I guess if I don't like it, I shouldn't ever come back to jail. Which is exactly what I'll do! Never come back!
I had a gnarly dream this morning that had my friend Beckie in it. I love Beckie and have missed her a bunch and don't know her cell number and haven't been able to call her since I've been down. I don't know if she knows where I've been these past months. But Beckie, if you're reading this, you, me, and Kelly are hanging out in less than a week. I have missed you crazy chicks and look forward to seeing you.
I've wondered if friends of mine out there think I've been ignoring them. I myself thought I was going to rehab as did a lot of people. I wonder if they think I just got out of rehab and went ghost and am not going to talk to them? Well, whatever the case may be, they will soon know that Jordan is back. And he's missed his friends. But to all my friends who knew damn well I was in jail and how to get ahold of me, and didn't...well, I've missed you too, but you're still jerks. LOL.
I really just cannot wait. I really hope I'm able to speak with my family today. There's been some issues with the phone, that I won't get into, but my parents have not successfully secured a line because this place is such a dump and their technology is bogus. So for the last few days I haven't been able to get in touch with them. So hopefully today is the day. Well right now, I am going to stop writing and wait for dayroom.
Here's something kinda funny. At the farm I would sometimes get behind in entries, and do a few in one day for several different days. Well right now I have no patience to do much of anything but write, and I am actually ahead in entries. So today is going to have two entries. One of them about what's going on here today (short, because nothing really happens here) and one just because.
So I finally got my stitches and stutures taken out today! And my mouth feels great! I am only the smallest bit swollen, but it should be completely fine by the time I am released and my mouth should be in complete working order.
I am very excited to start using it immediately after my release for many different purposes. And I plan on practicing my eating over the next few days I am here. One thing I did just notice on my way from the mod to the dentist was that my friend K. who I knew from Musick has been transferred somewhere else. I walked by cell #__ where he sleeps and there was no bed or anything on his bunk. Which bums me out, because, again, I didn't really get to say bye. That happens a lot here; it's just part of the deal here. I guess if I don't like it, I shouldn't ever come back to jail. Which is exactly what I'll do! Never come back!
I had a gnarly dream this morning that had my friend Beckie in it. I love Beckie and have missed her a bunch and don't know her cell number and haven't been able to call her since I've been down. I don't know if she knows where I've been these past months. But Beckie, if you're reading this, you, me, and Kelly are hanging out in less than a week. I have missed you crazy chicks and look forward to seeing you.
I've wondered if friends of mine out there think I've been ignoring them. I myself thought I was going to rehab as did a lot of people. I wonder if they think I just got out of rehab and went ghost and am not going to talk to them? Well, whatever the case may be, they will soon know that Jordan is back. And he's missed his friends. But to all my friends who knew damn well I was in jail and how to get ahold of me, and didn't...well, I've missed you too, but you're still jerks. LOL.
I really just cannot wait. I really hope I'm able to speak with my family today. There's been some issues with the phone, that I won't get into, but my parents have not successfully secured a line because this place is such a dump and their technology is bogus. So for the last few days I haven't been able to get in touch with them. So hopefully today is the day. Well right now, I am going to stop writing and wait for dayroom.
Addressing The Rumors
Written January 13, 2009
I wanted to clear up a few rumors. In the time I've been here, I've heard some pretty outrageous things that I supposedly did before coming here. And while they aren't true (OK, not all of them are true, at least not completely true) it's been the story of my life to be talked about, and I've gotten used to it. I see it as a sign of popularity, and it will most likely only get worse as time goes on. C'est la vie.
I am not going to address all of the crazy gossip stuff, just a short list of the major things I want made clear.
Moving on. "R" got back from court and and apparently they are bringing another felony charge against him for possession of unprescribed opiates or something. Which of course, he is innocent of. Of course. He explained that he is a tweaker and doesn't do pills. I am almost certain that defense will not hold up in court. He returns to court in about two weeks so he will be here until I am released. Whoopee. I still get to go home. So I ain't trippin too much holmes.
Did anyone watch the Golden Globes last night? There were only a few
nominated movies I have seen. But watching the awards did get me amped about seeing movies. I really want to see "Gran Torino" because Clint Eastwood doesn't really make bad movies. Same with "Changeling" because he directed it. Of course I've been wanting to see "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" since I first read about it last year, although I've heard it's very long. The two I want to see most are "The Wrestler" and "Slumdog Millionaire." "Slumdog Millionaire" because I've read so much about it. And "The Wrestler" because I have been a Micky Rourke fan ever since "Barfly" years ago. But man did he look shot out last night. He looks like freakin' Dog the Bounty Hunter. But he can apparently still act. Anyway it won't be long now before I can go see these movies. So for now I am going to check another day off of my little calendar, another day down, another day closer to home, and to go sleep. Toodles.
I wanted to clear up a few rumors. In the time I've been here, I've heard some pretty outrageous things that I supposedly did before coming here. And while they aren't true (OK, not all of them are true, at least not completely true) it's been the story of my life to be talked about, and I've gotten used to it. I see it as a sign of popularity, and it will most likely only get worse as time goes on. C'est la vie.
I am not going to address all of the crazy gossip stuff, just a short list of the major things I want made clear.
- I am in county jail. Not prison. There is a difference. Usually if you are convicted and given a sentence of more than a year, they will send you "up state" to prison. Prison is gnarlier than jail.
- I fully admit I have used plenty of different drugs, but I have never used any drug intravenously. Period. I can't stand the thought of it. I have heard this rumor go around more than once, and I know why (my fault) but it's not true.
- I was arrested at my probation officer's office building and taken straight to central booking. I was brought in on a probation violation. There were no new charges brought against me. I was not pulled over shirtless with crack and a gun or pills in Fullerton or whatever the crazy story is. I didn't resist arrest. I cooperated fully. So any crazy story you hear about me getting pulled over and trying to evade police, no matter how bad ass or outrageous it may sound, is not true.
- I am not dating anybody named Tiffany. I don't even know a blond girl named Tiffany. How could I meet and start dating someone while I'm in jail? Apparently I am just that smooth. It's not true. I'm still single. So if you meet this blond Tiffany who claims to be my girlfriend, tell her she is a dirty liar.
- I was clean from all drugs and alcohol for almost 18 months. I may have missed meetings during some of that time, and I may have at times kept sordid company and hung out in bars. But I was 100% clean during that time. This rumor upsets me the most, because I worked hard to stay clean during that time and I am proud of my accomplishment whether I relapsed or not. You don't have to believe me, but you can't take that accomplishment away from me. And if you really don't believe me, come tell me. That's all.
Moving on. "R" got back from court and and apparently they are bringing another felony charge against him for possession of unprescribed opiates or something. Which of course, he is innocent of. Of course. He explained that he is a tweaker and doesn't do pills. I am almost certain that defense will not hold up in court. He returns to court in about two weeks so he will be here until I am released. Whoopee. I still get to go home. So I ain't trippin too much holmes.
Did anyone watch the Golden Globes last night? There were only a few
nominated movies I have seen. But watching the awards did get me amped about seeing movies. I really want to see "Gran Torino" because Clint Eastwood doesn't really make bad movies. Same with "Changeling" because he directed it. Of course I've been wanting to see "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" since I first read about it last year, although I've heard it's very long. The two I want to see most are "The Wrestler" and "Slumdog Millionaire." "Slumdog Millionaire" because I've read so much about it. And "The Wrestler" because I have been a Micky Rourke fan ever since "Barfly" years ago. But man did he look shot out last night. He looks like freakin' Dog the Bounty Hunter. But he can apparently still act. Anyway it won't be long now before I can go see these movies. So for now I am going to check another day off of my little calendar, another day down, another day closer to home, and to go sleep. Toodles.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
First Day
Foreword
When I started writing this it was really just for me, as kind of a "writing exercise" I guess, but mostly because I couldn't stop thinking about my "ideal first day back." A day that is pretty simple, just spent with family and friends doing things I haven't done in awhile. I realized however there isn't a uniform ideal first day for me, and although the day described here would be nice, any day is ideal. I have to thank God for just being out of jail. So even if my first day out I get diarrhea, and my eyebrows fall out, and I somehow gain 206 pounds within hours, it'd still be the ideal first day back because I'd be with my family.
I didn't write this the way I write entries because it wasn't going to be an entry. I refer to myself in the third person. It'd be great if we could make this my first day back, but I'm grateful to just be getting out. So check it out.
When I started writing this it was really just for me, as kind of a "writing exercise" I guess, but mostly because I couldn't stop thinking about my "ideal first day back." A day that is pretty simple, just spent with family and friends doing things I haven't done in awhile. I realized however there isn't a uniform ideal first day for me, and although the day described here would be nice, any day is ideal. I have to thank God for just being out of jail. So even if my first day out I get diarrhea, and my eyebrows fall out, and I somehow gain 206 pounds within hours, it'd still be the ideal first day back because I'd be with my family.
I didn't write this the way I write entries because it wasn't going to be an entry. I refer to myself in the third person. It'd be great if we could make this my first day back, but I'm grateful to just be getting out. So check it out.
*****
Without getting into too much detail of the feelings he experienced or the dialogue that took place during that first day of his return to freedom, there was a sort of "record" kept of the events that took place. No times are specified, nor does this go into any heavy effort to explain the reasoning for certain choices made. It simply gives a broad overview of what was done on Monday the 19th of January 2009.
He awoke while it was still dark out as he had grown accustomed to doing in jail. Once he realized he was, in fact, no longer in jail he went back to sleep for a few more hours. He awoke again and enjoyed a breakfast prepared at home of five scrambled eggs with a can of tuna and grated cheese mixed in. Two pieces of whole wheat toast that was burned the way he likes it. Four pieces of bacon, also extra crispy to his preference. A glass of vitamin D milk and a glass of orange juice.
Feeling quite full they all decided to take a brisk walk around the neighborhood. Afterward, he departed from the home of his parents en route to the probation department field office located on Orangewood and State College to meet with his probation officer. This is required within the
first 72 hours following any release from jail. After his meeting, he and his company proceeded to the Artist's Village in downtown Santa Ana, so that he could look in one of his favorite stores (A.A.) for a new pair of pants. He purchased a pair of purple acid-wash jeans in wait 32 because he didn't get them for Christmas (obviously, since he was in jail) and wanted them very much. He and his company surveyed some of the various art exhibits and galleries in the immediate surrounding area before making their way out of Santa Ana.
From there, they debated whether to journey farther south towards the beach or to stay more
inland and save the beach for another day. They went north on Tustin Ave. into Orange where they had lunch at Chipotle at the Village shopping plaza. There he had a chicken burrito with black beans, cheese, rice, and a Sprite to drink. Afterward they proceeded to enjoy a leisurely walk through the mall where he purchased a new pair of Vans slip-ons. Next, they stopped at a favorite thrift store in Orange where he purchased some interesting vintage clothing items, second hand books, and hand weights. The group moved on. They stopped at the Cold Stone Creamery on La Palma and Imperial to get some ice cream before returning back to his parents home to rest and relax before the night's activities. He had a medium-sized cup of half part sweet cream ice cream and half part cake batter ice cream with toffee peanuts and Oreos added into it. He was unable to finish even half of it.
Once they arrived back at his parents home, he put the rest of his ice cream in the freezer and did a small workout before showering and changing clothes. He called some friends he had not yet spoken to from his parents house phone to make them aware of his return and express his desire to meet up with them later on that night at a pre-determined destination. Ready to go, he and his company left his parents residence to begin the night's activities.
On their way they stopped to get some dinner at In-N-Out. He had a 4x4 plain with cheese, a milk, and a side order of fries to share between them. From there they went to Tustin and Chapman to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting located at a spot called "The Other Place." After sharing and enjoying the meeting, and taking a chip that symbolizes 120 days clean and sober, he and his posse left for a nearby Starbuck's coffee location at the Orange Circle. They drank coffee and made phone calls to friends instructing them where to meet next.
They left Starbuck's and drove down Glassell to Kraemer and then right on La Palma and right again on Ocean Circle to meet friends at the Concourse Bowling Alley. He enjoyed the company of friends he had not seen in quite some time while at The Concourse. And after all of his friends had arrived and they devised a plan of where to go next, they proceeded to head on out. After many laughs and stories and smiles and hugs, he heads home exhausted from his first big full day back in society. Once back at his parents house he quietly winds down in the living room with some wheat toast, apple sauce, and milk while watching television. He then lays down in a real bed, with a real mattress, and real pillows and blankets, and sleeps the sleep of a tired and content free man.
He awoke while it was still dark out as he had grown accustomed to doing in jail. Once he realized he was, in fact, no longer in jail he went back to sleep for a few more hours. He awoke again and enjoyed a breakfast prepared at home of five scrambled eggs with a can of tuna and grated cheese mixed in. Two pieces of whole wheat toast that was burned the way he likes it. Four pieces of bacon, also extra crispy to his preference. A glass of vitamin D milk and a glass of orange juice.
Feeling quite full they all decided to take a brisk walk around the neighborhood. Afterward, he departed from the home of his parents en route to the probation department field office located on Orangewood and State College to meet with his probation officer. This is required within the
first 72 hours following any release from jail. After his meeting, he and his company proceeded to the Artist's Village in downtown Santa Ana, so that he could look in one of his favorite stores (A.A.) for a new pair of pants. He purchased a pair of purple acid-wash jeans in wait 32 because he didn't get them for Christmas (obviously, since he was in jail) and wanted them very much. He and his company surveyed some of the various art exhibits and galleries in the immediate surrounding area before making their way out of Santa Ana.From there, they debated whether to journey farther south towards the beach or to stay more
inland and save the beach for another day. They went north on Tustin Ave. into Orange where they had lunch at Chipotle at the Village shopping plaza. There he had a chicken burrito with black beans, cheese, rice, and a Sprite to drink. Afterward they proceeded to enjoy a leisurely walk through the mall where he purchased a new pair of Vans slip-ons. Next, they stopped at a favorite thrift store in Orange where he purchased some interesting vintage clothing items, second hand books, and hand weights. The group moved on. They stopped at the Cold Stone Creamery on La Palma and Imperial to get some ice cream before returning back to his parents home to rest and relax before the night's activities. He had a medium-sized cup of half part sweet cream ice cream and half part cake batter ice cream with toffee peanuts and Oreos added into it. He was unable to finish even half of it.Once they arrived back at his parents home, he put the rest of his ice cream in the freezer and did a small workout before showering and changing clothes. He called some friends he had not yet spoken to from his parents house phone to make them aware of his return and express his desire to meet up with them later on that night at a pre-determined destination. Ready to go, he and his company left his parents residence to begin the night's activities.
On their way they stopped to get some dinner at In-N-Out. He had a 4x4 plain with cheese, a milk, and a side order of fries to share between them. From there they went to Tustin and Chapman to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting located at a spot called "The Other Place." After sharing and enjoying the meeting, and taking a chip that symbolizes 120 days clean and sober, he and his posse left for a nearby Starbuck's coffee location at the Orange Circle. They drank coffee and made phone calls to friends instructing them where to meet next.
They left Starbuck's and drove down Glassell to Kraemer and then right on La Palma and right again on Ocean Circle to meet friends at the Concourse Bowling Alley. He enjoyed the company of friends he had not seen in quite some time while at The Concourse. And after all of his friends had arrived and they devised a plan of where to go next, they proceeded to head on out. After many laughs and stories and smiles and hugs, he heads home exhausted from his first big full day back in society. Once back at his parents house he quietly winds down in the living room with some wheat toast, apple sauce, and milk while watching television. He then lays down in a real bed, with a real mattress, and real pillows and blankets, and sleeps the sleep of a tired and content free man.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Dangerous Thinking
Written January 11, 2009
I am waiting for a visit. There is not much else for me to do here, so I wait, and think. The kind of thinking that goes on at this stage in the game can be pretty heavy stuff too. Dangerous even. I could die due to the serious output of brainpower that's going on. I have been waiting for a visit for two days. Nothing. And I need to see my family. I mean I like NEEEED to see my family. They might be the only thing that can slow my brain down, even if just a little bit.
I have one week left, 15 weeks down, three left. That's 113 days down, 7 left. That's roughly 2,712 hours (and that figure could be totally wrong) down with only 158 (again, my math could be off, but in the same hood) some odd hours left in which I can completely lose my flippin' flappin' mind. And let's use "flippin' flappin'" as exhibit A that it's already happening, because I intentionally wrote that. "Flippin' flappin'" was not used by the person who edits my blog as a substitute for explicit language. I really just wrote that. And so it has begun.
I have so much on my mind. For instance, when I am released, the whole face of this blog will change. Drastically! My father, who is a very smart man (despite what you may have heard) and has been a writer himself for many many years. He was also an editor for a number of different publications. He is who I send my blog entries to (and also my mother) for them to be entered onto the Internet after he edits them for spelling errors, grammatical errors, and probably other stuff as well. I am so thankful for his help, but when I am released, it'll be on me! I will be running www.jordansinjail.blogspot.com! And although I am not completely retarded I am nowhere nearly as smart as my father really is (despite what you may have heard). So, if after my release, you notice a lot of things are misspelled and there's a lot more swearing or I just sound a lot dumber all around, you know why.
I am going to be a lot busier after my release. I don't know if I am still going to have the time to write four pages a day for my blog. I definitely would like to, but realistically, those of you who know me know that I am all over the place, and am rarely in one place long enough to write a text message let alone four pages. I am going to have to do a complete overhaul on my habits and time management to make this thing work. Between the music project I want to start and the various art and short film projects that are planned, I am going to be writing this blog in my sleep or something.
Oh yeah, I am going to have to get a job at some point to maintain whatever residence I land in too! Busy Busy Busy! I love it! Or at least I love the idea of it from where I am at right now, doing nothing.
Geez I really wonder if they're going to come today. Rico got a visit yesterday, and today! Which surprised and depressed me. I was shocked when somebody came to see him yesterday, and this is going to sound mean but, it meant that there really was at least one person out there that actually wanted to see him. I spend 22 hours out of the day with the guy, and this was an alien concept to me: somebody WANTS to see Rico. Wow. But when he got called for a visit today, it floored me! I half expected the speaker to tell him to go back because there was some kind of mistake. But lo and behold, unless it's the same person who came to see him yesterday coming again today, there are at least two, count 'em two people out there that actually desire to see Rico. One was an "old girlfriend" supposedly who came to see him yesterday. And I suspect today it is probably his Mom.
This depressed me too because I wanted so badly to receive visits and am positive that I have people out there who want to see me. But no visit. And Rico has the nerve to complain about getting a visit?! Because it woke him up? Are you kidding me?! Whatever. It's all good. I am sure someone will be along shortly to come and visit me. Any minute now. And in their defense they don't really know what it's like to be here waiting for a visit so they can't possibly understand the importance it holds to me, or how waiting for it can really grate on one's nerves.
Geez what time is it? Did they get a flat tire or something? What gives? I guess I am just going to check another day off on my little "hard time" calendar, another day down another day closer to home, and then lay down and read as I wait for my visit as patiently as I can.
One week from today!
I am waiting for a visit. There is not much else for me to do here, so I wait, and think. The kind of thinking that goes on at this stage in the game can be pretty heavy stuff too. Dangerous even. I could die due to the serious output of brainpower that's going on. I have been waiting for a visit for two days. Nothing. And I need to see my family. I mean I like NEEEED to see my family. They might be the only thing that can slow my brain down, even if just a little bit.
I have one week left, 15 weeks down, three left. That's 113 days down, 7 left. That's roughly 2,712 hours (and that figure could be totally wrong) down with only 158 (again, my math could be off, but in the same hood) some odd hours left in which I can completely lose my flippin' flappin' mind. And let's use "flippin' flappin'" as exhibit A that it's already happening, because I intentionally wrote that. "Flippin' flappin'" was not used by the person who edits my blog as a substitute for explicit language. I really just wrote that. And so it has begun.
I have so much on my mind. For instance, when I am released, the whole face of this blog will change. Drastically! My father, who is a very smart man (despite what you may have heard) and has been a writer himself for many many years. He was also an editor for a number of different publications. He is who I send my blog entries to (and also my mother) for them to be entered onto the Internet after he edits them for spelling errors, grammatical errors, and probably other stuff as well. I am so thankful for his help, but when I am released, it'll be on me! I will be running www.jordansinjail.blogspot.com! And although I am not completely retarded I am nowhere nearly as smart as my father really is (despite what you may have heard). So, if after my release, you notice a lot of things are misspelled and there's a lot more swearing or I just sound a lot dumber all around, you know why.
I am going to be a lot busier after my release. I don't know if I am still going to have the time to write four pages a day for my blog. I definitely would like to, but realistically, those of you who know me know that I am all over the place, and am rarely in one place long enough to write a text message let alone four pages. I am going to have to do a complete overhaul on my habits and time management to make this thing work. Between the music project I want to start and the various art and short film projects that are planned, I am going to be writing this blog in my sleep or something.
Oh yeah, I am going to have to get a job at some point to maintain whatever residence I land in too! Busy Busy Busy! I love it! Or at least I love the idea of it from where I am at right now, doing nothing.
Geez I really wonder if they're going to come today. Rico got a visit yesterday, and today! Which surprised and depressed me. I was shocked when somebody came to see him yesterday, and this is going to sound mean but, it meant that there really was at least one person out there that actually wanted to see him. I spend 22 hours out of the day with the guy, and this was an alien concept to me: somebody WANTS to see Rico. Wow. But when he got called for a visit today, it floored me! I half expected the speaker to tell him to go back because there was some kind of mistake. But lo and behold, unless it's the same person who came to see him yesterday coming again today, there are at least two, count 'em two people out there that actually desire to see Rico. One was an "old girlfriend" supposedly who came to see him yesterday. And I suspect today it is probably his Mom.
This depressed me too because I wanted so badly to receive visits and am positive that I have people out there who want to see me. But no visit. And Rico has the nerve to complain about getting a visit?! Because it woke him up? Are you kidding me?! Whatever. It's all good. I am sure someone will be along shortly to come and visit me. Any minute now. And in their defense they don't really know what it's like to be here waiting for a visit so they can't possibly understand the importance it holds to me, or how waiting for it can really grate on one's nerves.
Geez what time is it? Did they get a flat tire or something? What gives? I guess I am just going to check another day off on my little "hard time" calendar, another day down another day closer to home, and then lay down and read as I wait for my visit as patiently as I can.
One week from today!
Old Flushy's Last Stand
Written on January 10, 2009
Well I failed to mention the outcome of Rico's court date back on the 8th. Nothing happened. He has to go back on Monday the 12th. He came back, upset and we proceeded to flush things down our toilet, a game we play less of after what happened earlier this week. I will admit, it's still fun.
For anyone who has ever been to jail at the Main, or has ever even gone through the loop here,
you know why this game holds a
childish fun factor. The toilets! Here you have a sort of toilet/sink combo deal going, where the sink is on top of a rectangular metal base with a metal bowl protruding out to one side. It resembles metal toilets they have in some beach bathrooms, except it is a helluva lot more powerful! This thing has a gnarly metal button for the flusher. And it's so powerful, so loud, and is pumping so much water so fast that when somebody downstairs flushes their toilet, you can hear it. It's like the Terminator of toilets. It's your toilet at home, but on crack and steroids, and with a bad ass attitude. You could probably suck a full grown otter down this thing.
I have seen these toilets eat county issue pants! Towels. books. These things are hungry! And they don't mess around. As long as you can line up whatever you're sending down right, it's going down. So you can see where the boyish fascination factor would come into play.
Well, lately our toilet has seemed to have gotten a little tired. It doesn't have that "twinkle" on its stainless steel bowl that it used to. And we don''t really push the issue too much, because we kinda broke its spirit.
Rico and I were playing the game, where we flush large objects down the toilet, and we were having a good ol' time as always. Old ball of paper with some spoons? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. Single serving milk carton filled with paper bags torn up? WHOOOOSH!!! Gone. A whole apple? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. Half of an old People magazine? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. The toilet was hungry. And we were in charge of feeding it.
So we stepped it up, only to find out that the toilet did in fact have a limit of what it could swallow. Cole slaw, a Styrofoam container, an orange, a bunch of old popcorn, and an extra sock that they gave me on accident at clothing exchange. We press the button, both of us grinning like idiots (well I was, Rico pretty much always has that expression) fully content with the gracious offering to our toilet.
Whooooo-ul-ludle-ludle-ludle-ludle...Uh oh.
Instead of the powerful swallow we were used to, followed by the disappearance of whatever was in the bowl, the water was bubbling and spinning the objects inside in a whirlpool effect as the water started rising. Shit! I mean...shoot! We never foresaw that outcome! This toilet was supposed to be indestructible! I had seen a lot more get sucked down one of these!
The water didn't overflow--yet--but every time we would let it chill for a bit and then flush it, the water kept climbing dangerously all the way to the top! Well what could we do? What any good American man would do in the absence of women: ignore the problem and hope it solved itself! So I read for a good thirty minutes, and flushed it again.
Same story: water almost overflowed onto the floor of our cell.
So I got crafty. I wasn't about to call a deputy on the speaker and tell him we flushed a bunch of stuff down the toilet and broke it. I was in no mood to get pretzeled, but I knew we would soon run out of options. I concocted a sort of hook/spear device out of some of the cardboard backing on a tablet of writing paper, some string made from a plastic sandwich bag, and a plastic spoon. When you're in jail, sometimes you just gotta step up and McGyver stuff. So with my new tool I attempted to push/force the bigger items (mainly the orange and the sack) down the "suckhole" while pressing the button.
Ludle-ludle-ludle-ludle (water rising) garble-garble-garble (bubbles), and then WHOOOSH!!! Eureka! We did it! No wait, screw that, I did it! I acted as the ex-lax to the toilet's constipation! I saved us from getting pretzeled by the deputies! I did, me!
Yeah, it was my idea to include the sock, but whatever! I fixed it! But we were disappointed. It's like the first time you see your Dad really get hurt and, you see him in pain and realize he's not invincible. Or like finding out Santa isn't real. Or that the bad ass lead singer of one of your favorite bands is gay. It doesn't necessarily change how much you like them or anything, but it's just hard to really see them the same after that.
Our toilet couldn't eat anything. It wasn't a bottomless pit. And not only that, it had been taken out by some Styrofoam, a sock, and an orange. We just couldn't believe it.
It was a sad day. A day where you felt like you were forced to grow up a little bit against your will. Like an older boy had shattered some illusion you had believed to be fact, and he presented undeniable evidence to support his argument.
I would be lying if I said we don't still flush things down the toilet for the fun of it, because it still makes a bad ass noise. But we have definitely kept the toilet on a "light diet." We don''t challenge her anymore. She is still very much a part of our everyday lives (duh, it's our toilet!) but it's still hard to ever see her (I don't know when I decided our toilet was a she) in the same light, the way we used to.
Back when Santa was real. Your Dad was invincible. Judas Priest were all bad ass heterosexuals, and you could feed a full grown otter to a beefy-ass metal toilet in jail.
Well I failed to mention the outcome of Rico's court date back on the 8th. Nothing happened. He has to go back on Monday the 12th. He came back, upset and we proceeded to flush things down our toilet, a game we play less of after what happened earlier this week. I will admit, it's still fun.
For anyone who has ever been to jail at the Main, or has ever even gone through the loop here,
you know why this game holds achildish fun factor. The toilets! Here you have a sort of toilet/sink combo deal going, where the sink is on top of a rectangular metal base with a metal bowl protruding out to one side. It resembles metal toilets they have in some beach bathrooms, except it is a helluva lot more powerful! This thing has a gnarly metal button for the flusher. And it's so powerful, so loud, and is pumping so much water so fast that when somebody downstairs flushes their toilet, you can hear it. It's like the Terminator of toilets. It's your toilet at home, but on crack and steroids, and with a bad ass attitude. You could probably suck a full grown otter down this thing.
I have seen these toilets eat county issue pants! Towels. books. These things are hungry! And they don't mess around. As long as you can line up whatever you're sending down right, it's going down. So you can see where the boyish fascination factor would come into play.
Well, lately our toilet has seemed to have gotten a little tired. It doesn't have that "twinkle" on its stainless steel bowl that it used to. And we don''t really push the issue too much, because we kinda broke its spirit.
Rico and I were playing the game, where we flush large objects down the toilet, and we were having a good ol' time as always. Old ball of paper with some spoons? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. Single serving milk carton filled with paper bags torn up? WHOOOOSH!!! Gone. A whole apple? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. Half of an old People magazine? WHOOOSH!!! Gone. The toilet was hungry. And we were in charge of feeding it.
So we stepped it up, only to find out that the toilet did in fact have a limit of what it could swallow. Cole slaw, a Styrofoam container, an orange, a bunch of old popcorn, and an extra sock that they gave me on accident at clothing exchange. We press the button, both of us grinning like idiots (well I was, Rico pretty much always has that expression) fully content with the gracious offering to our toilet.
Whooooo-ul-ludle-ludle-ludle-ludle...Uh oh.
Instead of the powerful swallow we were used to, followed by the disappearance of whatever was in the bowl, the water was bubbling and spinning the objects inside in a whirlpool effect as the water started rising. Shit! I mean...shoot! We never foresaw that outcome! This toilet was supposed to be indestructible! I had seen a lot more get sucked down one of these!
The water didn't overflow--yet--but every time we would let it chill for a bit and then flush it, the water kept climbing dangerously all the way to the top! Well what could we do? What any good American man would do in the absence of women: ignore the problem and hope it solved itself! So I read for a good thirty minutes, and flushed it again.
Same story: water almost overflowed onto the floor of our cell.
So I got crafty. I wasn't about to call a deputy on the speaker and tell him we flushed a bunch of stuff down the toilet and broke it. I was in no mood to get pretzeled, but I knew we would soon run out of options. I concocted a sort of hook/spear device out of some of the cardboard backing on a tablet of writing paper, some string made from a plastic sandwich bag, and a plastic spoon. When you're in jail, sometimes you just gotta step up and McGyver stuff. So with my new tool I attempted to push/force the bigger items (mainly the orange and the sack) down the "suckhole" while pressing the button.
Ludle-ludle-ludle-ludle (water rising) garble-garble-garble (bubbles), and then WHOOOSH!!! Eureka! We did it! No wait, screw that, I did it! I acted as the ex-lax to the toilet's constipation! I saved us from getting pretzeled by the deputies! I did, me!
Yeah, it was my idea to include the sock, but whatever! I fixed it! But we were disappointed. It's like the first time you see your Dad really get hurt and, you see him in pain and realize he's not invincible. Or like finding out Santa isn't real. Or that the bad ass lead singer of one of your favorite bands is gay. It doesn't necessarily change how much you like them or anything, but it's just hard to really see them the same after that.
Our toilet couldn't eat anything. It wasn't a bottomless pit. And not only that, it had been taken out by some Styrofoam, a sock, and an orange. We just couldn't believe it.
It was a sad day. A day where you felt like you were forced to grow up a little bit against your will. Like an older boy had shattered some illusion you had believed to be fact, and he presented undeniable evidence to support his argument.
I would be lying if I said we don't still flush things down the toilet for the fun of it, because it still makes a bad ass noise. But we have definitely kept the toilet on a "light diet." We don''t challenge her anymore. She is still very much a part of our everyday lives (duh, it's our toilet!) but it's still hard to ever see her (I don't know when I decided our toilet was a she) in the same light, the way we used to.
Back when Santa was real. Your Dad was invincible. Judas Priest were all bad ass heterosexuals, and you could feed a full grown otter to a beefy-ass metal toilet in jail.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Things I Need My Mouth For
Written January 9, 2009
OK...so maybe I overreacted just a little bit. But in my defense, I have never had wisdom teeth removed or any experience I could use to compare. So I didn't know why it felt like they sewed my cheek to my gums or why it continued to hurt so much. And yes, the fact that I had the procedure performed in county jail was a red flag. But I went back to the dentist today to voice my concerns, and found out the truth. I have to believe this because it was a completely different dentist than the one who performed the procedure, so they had no reason to lie to me. Apparently, the reason why it felt as if the inside of my cheek had received stitching to my gums is because it did.
Yeah. You see (and maybe you knew this) when you have
an impacted wisdom tooth, they have to cut away more of the gums to remove it then normal. To heal properly, a device called a "stuture" is sewn in place between the cut gums and the inner cheek. It helps in some way I am not even pretending to understand.
All is quite well with the recovery process and any discomfort I am experiencing is normal. She (the dentist) said it was good that I came in with my questions. So whatever. It still hurts, although it's not nearly as swollen as it was initially.
I am eager to be completely recovered and to have my stitches, and "stutures" taken out this upcoming Tuesday. I need my mouth to be in perfect working order by the time I am released. I have a lot of things I am going to need my mouth for. One is eating! Right now I can't eat the way I normally do and definitely not the way I plan on eating when I get out! I can't open my mouth all the way at the moment, and when I am released, I don't intend on chewing all that much. I am quite sure that at least within the first month of my release, I will gain between 10-15 pounds as a result of all the eating I am going to do.
But I've earned the right to gain weight in my opinion, and I will turn it into muscle before summer like I have a habit of doing. I usually fluctuate within a 15 pound range as it is, so I don't have too much to worry about.
The other thing I need my mouth completely healed for is talking. I have a lot of great and interesting stories I need to share with friends and family. This dialogue will require very loud exclamations and exaggerated facial expressions. I'll need to do accurate impressions, contort my facial features, and a whole bunch of other things I am known to do in conversation. It's hard to do that when your cheek is sore and sewed to the inside of your gums. So that's gonna have to change soon.
I am going to need my mouth healed for smiling, laughing, whistling, kissing too! I have not kissed anyone in over four months! Largely due to the fact I have been surrounded by guys. But when I am released, I need to be able to kiss my mother on the cheek immediately. My father as well. Although he may fight it, I need to kiss my little brother on the cheek too but not because I especially want to, but because will make him uncomfortable. I need to be able to kiss my grandparents, my nephew, and any number of close (female) friends that I have not seen. And I need to be able to do this without experiencing discomfort in my cheek and gum area. It's crucial really.
Oh and one more thing. I am a singer. I love singing...loudly. Loudly enough to where my mouth is open so wide a humming bird could fly in. And although I am out of practice and have had few chances to exercise my vocals while here, it is a horse I am eager to get back on. And this needs to heal fast and right because it's hard to get a humming bird in your mouth when your cheek is sewed to your freakin' gums! C'mon! Wasn't there any other way?!
If you get a chance, pray that mi boca is 100% before I am released because I have big plans for this mouth. And they are all good, wholesome, worthwhile, and fun plans that I cannot wait to execute.
What am I going to do now? Oh...well I am going to check another day off of my little calendar, another day down, another day closer to home, and then I am going to lay down and daydream about being free! Toodles.
OK...so maybe I overreacted just a little bit. But in my defense, I have never had wisdom teeth removed or any experience I could use to compare. So I didn't know why it felt like they sewed my cheek to my gums or why it continued to hurt so much. And yes, the fact that I had the procedure performed in county jail was a red flag. But I went back to the dentist today to voice my concerns, and found out the truth. I have to believe this because it was a completely different dentist than the one who performed the procedure, so they had no reason to lie to me. Apparently, the reason why it felt as if the inside of my cheek had received stitching to my gums is because it did.
Yeah. You see (and maybe you knew this) when you have
an impacted wisdom tooth, they have to cut away more of the gums to remove it then normal. To heal properly, a device called a "stuture" is sewn in place between the cut gums and the inner cheek. It helps in some way I am not even pretending to understand.
All is quite well with the recovery process and any discomfort I am experiencing is normal. She (the dentist) said it was good that I came in with my questions. So whatever. It still hurts, although it's not nearly as swollen as it was initially.
I am eager to be completely recovered and to have my stitches, and "stutures" taken out this upcoming Tuesday. I need my mouth to be in perfect working order by the time I am released. I have a lot of things I am going to need my mouth for. One is eating! Right now I can't eat the way I normally do and definitely not the way I plan on eating when I get out! I can't open my mouth all the way at the moment, and when I am released, I don't intend on chewing all that much. I am quite sure that at least within the first month of my release, I will gain between 10-15 pounds as a result of all the eating I am going to do.
But I've earned the right to gain weight in my opinion, and I will turn it into muscle before summer like I have a habit of doing. I usually fluctuate within a 15 pound range as it is, so I don't have too much to worry about.
The other thing I need my mouth completely healed for is talking. I have a lot of great and interesting stories I need to share with friends and family. This dialogue will require very loud exclamations and exaggerated facial expressions. I'll need to do accurate impressions, contort my facial features, and a whole bunch of other things I am known to do in conversation. It's hard to do that when your cheek is sore and sewed to the inside of your gums. So that's gonna have to change soon.
I am going to need my mouth healed for smiling, laughing, whistling, kissing too! I have not kissed anyone in over four months! Largely due to the fact I have been surrounded by guys. But when I am released, I need to be able to kiss my mother on the cheek immediately. My father as well. Although he may fight it, I need to kiss my little brother on the cheek too but not because I especially want to, but because will make him uncomfortable. I need to be able to kiss my grandparents, my nephew, and any number of close (female) friends that I have not seen. And I need to be able to do this without experiencing discomfort in my cheek and gum area. It's crucial really.
Oh and one more thing. I am a singer. I love singing...loudly. Loudly enough to where my mouth is open so wide a humming bird could fly in. And although I am out of practice and have had few chances to exercise my vocals while here, it is a horse I am eager to get back on. And this needs to heal fast and right because it's hard to get a humming bird in your mouth when your cheek is sewed to your freakin' gums! C'mon! Wasn't there any other way?!
If you get a chance, pray that mi boca is 100% before I am released because I have big plans for this mouth. And they are all good, wholesome, worthwhile, and fun plans that I cannot wait to execute.
What am I going to do now? Oh...well I am going to check another day off of my little calendar, another day down, another day closer to home, and then I am going to lay down and daydream about being free! Toodles.
Nothing Short of Epic
I have done it. We have done it. I am at the end of my journey into the Orange County Justice System. I started out at Main, was taken to Theo Lacy. From Theo Lacy I was transferred out to the James Musick Facility. From there I was eventually transferred to the IRC (Intake and Release Center) jail at Main.
My experience has been long and hard, but nothing short of epic. I have been to every jail in Orange County. I have had a bunch of different bunk mates, and a variety of jobs. I've even seen people come, go, and come back. Then go again! I have been in close to a thousand counting procedures. I've cut my hair twice. I've had a little over 450 hot jail meals. And well over 160 sack lunches. I've held the position of
Without everyone that wrote to me, I don't know what I would have done. And those few people other than my family who came to visit me, thank you so very very much. You don't know what it means to me. You have no idea just how great and just how much of an impact your letters and visits had on me during my time here. So I wanted to let you know, and say thank you.
For the people who I met and bonded with along the way, thank you for being there. We didn't want to be in the situation we were in, so thank you for helping me make the best of that time in whatever way you did. Thank you to anyone and everyone that has prayed for me during my sentence. Without your love and prayers my heart would have grown very cold here. The hope I did have would have been non-existent. You, all of you, helped me to find a different God who was waiting for me in here. I wouldn't have even noticed him if your prayers hadn't softened my heart to the notion of a change through him. So thank you.
To the deputies who were in my life during my stay, uh, no hard feelings and you guys, most of you, do your job well. I guess. I don't know, I thanked everybody else, it just seemed like a nice thing to do. Just thanks to everyone.
It's going to be really hard for me to do a whole lotta writing these last few days here, even though I definitely have plenty of time. And it's not for lack of things to write about either. I cannot stop my mind from racing long enough to do hardly anything! I keep thinking about the fact I am really going to be gone, outta here, soon. So thank you, thank you all. And I will see you all very soon, and will do what I can to keep writing until then. Bye now.
My experience has been long and hard, but nothing short of epic. I have been to every jail in Orange County. I have had a bunch of different bunk mates, and a variety of jobs. I've even seen people come, go, and come back. Then go again! I have been in close to a thousand counting procedures. I've cut my hair twice. I've had a little over 450 hot jail meals. And well over 160 sack lunches. I've held the position of
- torpedo
- rep
- compound rep
Without everyone that wrote to me, I don't know what I would have done. And those few people other than my family who came to visit me, thank you so very very much. You don't know what it means to me. You have no idea just how great and just how much of an impact your letters and visits had on me during my time here. So I wanted to let you know, and say thank you.
For the people who I met and bonded with along the way, thank you for being there. We didn't want to be in the situation we were in, so thank you for helping me make the best of that time in whatever way you did. Thank you to anyone and everyone that has prayed for me during my sentence. Without your love and prayers my heart would have grown very cold here. The hope I did have would have been non-existent. You, all of you, helped me to find a different God who was waiting for me in here. I wouldn't have even noticed him if your prayers hadn't softened my heart to the notion of a change through him. So thank you.
To the deputies who were in my life during my stay, uh, no hard feelings and you guys, most of you, do your job well. I guess. I don't know, I thanked everybody else, it just seemed like a nice thing to do. Just thanks to everyone.
It's going to be really hard for me to do a whole lotta writing these last few days here, even though I definitely have plenty of time. And it's not for lack of things to write about either. I cannot stop my mind from racing long enough to do hardly anything! I keep thinking about the fact I am really going to be gone, outta here, soon. So thank you, thank you all. And I will see you all very soon, and will do what I can to keep writing until then. Bye now.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Single Digits
Written January 8, 2009
Well today hasn't been that bad. Yes, my face is still terribly swollen and I feel feverishly sick, but hey, wuddyagunado?
I did feel well enough to work out today which was good. I just couldn't do as much as I normally do. One thing about today that has been very pleasant indeed is the absence of my bunky. "Rico" has been at court all day and should remain there until later tonight. Rico is trying to get drug court, which is a treatment program that I have no faith he will be able to complete. But at least if he gets it, they will release him and I will be in here alone!
In jail, it's all about getting just the right amount of solitude. Too much can make you go a little batty I think. But if I was alone in this cell the rest of the time I have here I would be all right. Sooo...fingers crossed!
As of today, I can count the number of days I have left on two hands. Tomorrow I move into the single digits. Which is so surreal to me that I don't even want to talk about it for a bunch of reasons.
Many times I have seen people come to jail and leave while I am still here and it's always around the single digits that they get very vocal about their imminent departure. To someone who still has plenty of time left to do, this can be very upsetting. So I am not going to make too much of a big deal about it (even though I'd like to!) because I remember how crummy it used to be to hear others do it. Especially here. Some serious offenders here are still fighting their cases and don't know yet when they might be getting out, or if they ever will. I talk, hangout with, and have formed real friendships with men who have, in some cases, been here for years fighting charges like bank robbery, fraud, attempted murder, vehicular manslaughter, terrorism, and straight up murder. Some of these guys are never going to be released, so as stoked as I am to be leaving, I have enough respect for them all to not make a big deal out of it or rub it in.
My sleep here has gotten on a pretty jacked up routine. I don't sleep too much at night, then I wake up early to eat and do count. I do what I can to stay awake as long as I can before I eventually succumb to sleep and then I usually sleep until lunch time. I would like to get on a more regular sleep schedule, but that's not completely up to me really.
Here there's nothing you can do about somebody being loud and yelling out of the crack in their door or through the vent. There isn't a thing you can do to shut them up. At the farm, I had a little bit of pull. If I said "Radio" or "quiet time" especially at night, it would get quiet. And, not to sound scary or whatever, but if somebody didn't shut up after that, something would happen to them. Here, there are no politics, no reps, no disciplinary action applied to those who decide they want to yell and scream all night after lights out. That really does make it hard to try and get on a regular sleep schedule before I leave here.
Whatever. I am leaving this cell on January 18, 2009. I go downstairs, get dressed out, get processed out, take one last trip through the loop, and then I'll be on the streets of downtown Santa Ana. And nothing can change that.
When I get out I'll have no jacket, little money, a bag full of books, and wearing clothes that I haven't worn in four months that haven't been washed. And I couldn't be happier about it. I am checking another day off my little calendar, another day down, another day closer to home. Because I am practically already there. I'm coming home everybody. I'm coming home.
Well today hasn't been that bad. Yes, my face is still terribly swollen and I feel feverishly sick, but hey, wuddyagunado?
I did feel well enough to work out today which was good. I just couldn't do as much as I normally do. One thing about today that has been very pleasant indeed is the absence of my bunky. "Rico" has been at court all day and should remain there until later tonight. Rico is trying to get drug court, which is a treatment program that I have no faith he will be able to complete. But at least if he gets it, they will release him and I will be in here alone!
In jail, it's all about getting just the right amount of solitude. Too much can make you go a little batty I think. But if I was alone in this cell the rest of the time I have here I would be all right. Sooo...fingers crossed!
As of today, I can count the number of days I have left on two hands. Tomorrow I move into the single digits. Which is so surreal to me that I don't even want to talk about it for a bunch of reasons.
Many times I have seen people come to jail and leave while I am still here and it's always around the single digits that they get very vocal about their imminent departure. To someone who still has plenty of time left to do, this can be very upsetting. So I am not going to make too much of a big deal about it (even though I'd like to!) because I remember how crummy it used to be to hear others do it. Especially here. Some serious offenders here are still fighting their cases and don't know yet when they might be getting out, or if they ever will. I talk, hangout with, and have formed real friendships with men who have, in some cases, been here for years fighting charges like bank robbery, fraud, attempted murder, vehicular manslaughter, terrorism, and straight up murder. Some of these guys are never going to be released, so as stoked as I am to be leaving, I have enough respect for them all to not make a big deal out of it or rub it in.
My sleep here has gotten on a pretty jacked up routine. I don't sleep too much at night, then I wake up early to eat and do count. I do what I can to stay awake as long as I can before I eventually succumb to sleep and then I usually sleep until lunch time. I would like to get on a more regular sleep schedule, but that's not completely up to me really.
Here there's nothing you can do about somebody being loud and yelling out of the crack in their door or through the vent. There isn't a thing you can do to shut them up. At the farm, I had a little bit of pull. If I said "Radio" or "quiet time" especially at night, it would get quiet. And, not to sound scary or whatever, but if somebody didn't shut up after that, something would happen to them. Here, there are no politics, no reps, no disciplinary action applied to those who decide they want to yell and scream all night after lights out. That really does make it hard to try and get on a regular sleep schedule before I leave here.
Whatever. I am leaving this cell on January 18, 2009. I go downstairs, get dressed out, get processed out, take one last trip through the loop, and then I'll be on the streets of downtown Santa Ana. And nothing can change that.
When I get out I'll have no jacket, little money, a bag full of books, and wearing clothes that I haven't worn in four months that haven't been washed. And I couldn't be happier about it. I am checking another day off my little calendar, another day down, another day closer to home. Because I am practically already there. I'm coming home everybody. I'm coming home.
More Pain
Written on January 7, 2009
I feel feverish and sick. I have had the displeasure of being sick probably three or four times since I have been in jail. How nice that I get to be sick one more time before I leave. It feels like they stitched up part of my cheek too in the process. Which is really not how I want it to heal. It wouldn't surprise me too much to find out that a county dentist stitched part of my cheek to my gums. It is just soooo swollen.
I wish I could just see my Mom right now as lame as that may sound. My Mom seems to know everything when it comes to one of her children feeling bad. No matter how old they get. She will make you feel better. I really hope I reach her on the phone tonight.
I feel feverish and sick. I have had the displeasure of being sick probably three or four times since I have been in jail. How nice that I get to be sick one more time before I leave. It feels like they stitched up part of my cheek too in the process. Which is really not how I want it to heal. It wouldn't surprise me too much to find out that a county dentist stitched part of my cheek to my gums. It is just soooo swollen.
I wish I could just see my Mom right now as lame as that may sound. My Mom seems to know everything when it comes to one of her children feeling bad. No matter how old they get. She will make you feel better. I really hope I reach her on the phone tonight.
What Was I Thinking?
Written January 7, 2009
Sooo...I woke up this morning, and I had a painful thought stuck right in my head...or I guess my face.
I could barely eat because my jaw is so swollen that it's hard to open it wide enough to get the spoon in there. I love apples, but that wasn't happening. My toffee peanuts sit in my little property area, completely untouched. I was told I would feel slightly feverish by the dentist, but I didn't think it would be like this. I couldn't even work out this morning when I tried and I still feel as if I can't. I opted to sleep instead of going to outdoor rec today just because of how crummy I'm feeling and how tired I am.
My voice sounds (literally) like Richard M. Nixon because of how my cheek is so swollen. I have been giving little presidential speeches all day whenever I've been awake. I must have resigned from office about 50 times already today. And my cellmate and just about anyone else who can hear know by now that "I...am NOT a crook."
I knew it was going to hurt and be a little puffy. But I didn't think it would compromise the structural integrity of my entire head! The guy with "15 St." tattooed above his right eyebrow stares at me as if I had a horn growing out of my head. Actually a horn have more useful applications aside from enabling me to talk like Nixon.
What was I thinking getting oral surgery done in jail! Well, I was thinking, it's free. But obviously not! It's cost me my dignity and my appearance! The Danish dentist seemed nice enough, but now I realize why he works in the Orange County Jail and not in a private practice. Who knows how many people are out there, deformed, shunned by society, scavenging for scraps of food and old muffin bottoms because of this Danish dentist and his little Asian assistant! And now I have fallen victim to their sick game! I wonder if he is really even Danish. Man what have I done?
No wonder the medical release for the procedure was gnarly! Why didn't I think? Some of the the things on that release were from the Spanish Inquisition! Possible side effects? And now they got me. I am doomed to be a hideous wretch the rest of my ugly life.
I'll never find true friendship again, only pity friendship. I will never know the love of a woman who truly cares for me, unless of course she is blind and I steer her away from feeling the left side of my face. I will never find gainful employment unless I stuff the right side of my face with tissue so it looks swollen too and become a Nixon impersonator.
I was thinking, "Well I lost four months of my life to this place, at least I can get some dental work done for free." But now I haven't lost just four months of my life, I have lost my future! Unless I am just overreacting about my face being swollen (a possibility) the Orange County justice system has scarred my heart and my mind with the treatment I have suffered through over the time I've been here...and now they have scarred my outward appearance!
Couldn't they have done it a few months ago to give me some time to come to grips with it and accept my new role in life as a hideous freak who sounds like Nixon? Noooooo....they couldn't do that! They had to do it right before I go home in 12 days! I'm ruined everyone! I'll keep you updated to any new developments, but please, try to remember me the way I was before THEY did this to me, back when I was beautiful and eager to live!
Sooo...I woke up this morning, and I had a painful thought stuck right in my head...or I guess my face.
What the hell was I thinking getting dental work done in jail?!My face is way more swollen than it's supposed to be. I barely slept at all last night. After the stuff they injected into my face wore off it felt like the whole left side of my face was one big throbbing bruise. I look in the mirror, and when I turn one way, oh look it's Jordan, I know that guy. But when I turn the other way it's like, Geez who is that fatass! It looks like he's hiding an apple in his cheek! Or like he got stung by a bunch of bees, but only on the left side of his face.
I could barely eat because my jaw is so swollen that it's hard to open it wide enough to get the spoon in there. I love apples, but that wasn't happening. My toffee peanuts sit in my little property area, completely untouched. I was told I would feel slightly feverish by the dentist, but I didn't think it would be like this. I couldn't even work out this morning when I tried and I still feel as if I can't. I opted to sleep instead of going to outdoor rec today just because of how crummy I'm feeling and how tired I am.
My voice sounds (literally) like Richard M. Nixon because of how my cheek is so swollen. I have been giving little presidential speeches all day whenever I've been awake. I must have resigned from office about 50 times already today. And my cellmate and just about anyone else who can hear know by now that "I...am NOT a crook."
I knew it was going to hurt and be a little puffy. But I didn't think it would compromise the structural integrity of my entire head! The guy with "15 St." tattooed above his right eyebrow stares at me as if I had a horn growing out of my head. Actually a horn have more useful applications aside from enabling me to talk like Nixon.
What was I thinking getting oral surgery done in jail! Well, I was thinking, it's free. But obviously not! It's cost me my dignity and my appearance! The Danish dentist seemed nice enough, but now I realize why he works in the Orange County Jail and not in a private practice. Who knows how many people are out there, deformed, shunned by society, scavenging for scraps of food and old muffin bottoms because of this Danish dentist and his little Asian assistant! And now I have fallen victim to their sick game! I wonder if he is really even Danish. Man what have I done?
No wonder the medical release for the procedure was gnarly! Why didn't I think? Some of the the things on that release were from the Spanish Inquisition! Possible side effects? And now they got me. I am doomed to be a hideous wretch the rest of my ugly life.
I'll never find true friendship again, only pity friendship. I will never know the love of a woman who truly cares for me, unless of course she is blind and I steer her away from feeling the left side of my face. I will never find gainful employment unless I stuff the right side of my face with tissue so it looks swollen too and become a Nixon impersonator.
I was thinking, "Well I lost four months of my life to this place, at least I can get some dental work done for free." But now I haven't lost just four months of my life, I have lost my future! Unless I am just overreacting about my face being swollen (a possibility) the Orange County justice system has scarred my heart and my mind with the treatment I have suffered through over the time I've been here...and now they have scarred my outward appearance!
Couldn't they have done it a few months ago to give me some time to come to grips with it and accept my new role in life as a hideous freak who sounds like Nixon? Noooooo....they couldn't do that! They had to do it right before I go home in 12 days! I'm ruined everyone! I'll keep you updated to any new developments, but please, try to remember me the way I was before THEY did this to me, back when I was beautiful and eager to live!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Good-bye Wisdom Tooth
Written January 6, 2009
So they finally did it! With 13 days until my release they finally came through! I had my impacted wisdom tooth removed today! I can't feel my face...and it feels great! For all the crooked, unlawful, degrading, soul crushing, and despicable things I have seen done by the staff here to the inmates, this one single act has restored at least a fraction of respect for the OCSD and the other ruthless county workers here.
This afternoon, around 1:00 pm the deputy came on over our little speaker: Pppmph!!! "Jah juh wah mu ta ta Henderson?!" Pretty much all I heard was my last name.
"Uhhh...yes sir?"
PPPPMMMPH!!! "Wheme towa sama domtom."
You can understand my confusion. Shortly thereafter the lock was buzzed and I walked down, through the outer door, through yet another door where the deputy handed me a dental pass. Oooooh! I get it now! I am ushered down the long Death Star-like corridor I described before and had a seat in front of the Dental Office.
If I thought I had seen plenty of tattooed faces before I was housed here, I was wrong. It was almost as if my lack of neck, head, and face tattoos cause the guys in this waiting area to look at me as if there was something wrong with me! You know the expression, "eyes on the back of your head"? Well I was most uncomfortable because the young man directly in front of me had, well, eyes and a menacing face tattooed on the back of his head that appeared to be staring directly at me...into my soul!
I met with the dentist after looking over and signing the scariest medical releases I'd ever seen. But what the hell? If, in a few weeks, I am drooling out of the left side of my face and my jaw is wired shut, and I'm blind and going bald, you'll know what's up.
The dentist was very nice, and had a Danish accent but was still very easy to understand. He shot my gums full of something to numb them. He told me, if I felt anything to let him know and he'd give me more. What?! They're not going to knock me out? No. Oh well I couldn't feel anything from the neck up at that moment anyway, so I rolled with it. Anyway, if I was out cold I couldn't write about it later right?
So they (the dentist and his little assistant, a young Asian lady) go right to work cutting the gums around the tooth. Then the dentist begins drilling the tooth in half and breaking it up into smaller pieces with a chisel type tool and removing the fragments. I could kinda feel it, when he was chipping the tooth down. And I could definitely hear it. But it wasn't so bad.
After everything was done they stitched me up and gave me some instructions on how to take care of it. They gave me some ibuprofen to take in between the scheduled medicine I would be receiving at med call for the next week until they called me back to take the stitches out. And that was that.
As I am writing this I am starting to get some of the feeling in my face back, and experience some of the pain they predicted. But it's all good because I actually got it done. Granted it took three and a half months and a housing transfer plus numerous false starts. And I probably won't be eating any toffee peanuts for a bit, but it's done.
While I was there they said that I should have one of my wisdom teeth on the top left side removed as well. I doubt it will happen while I am here, and I don't want to stick around longer to have it taken care of. So I'll have to have it looked at sometime this year when I am out of here.
But I am very pleased that it really did happen. Now I don't have to be in public with a swollen face, and I don't have to bother with the pain of it anywhere else but in here. Honestly, being in physical pain will be a nice little change from the dull aching psychic pain that one goes through here on a daily basis. The pain that comes waking up in here will be pushed to the back of the line for a few days. Which I am more than happy for.
The real challenge is going to be working out tomorrow as I had planned if my head and face are still going to hurt like this. Wow, it's really starting to hurt. I think I am going to check off another day on my calendar and lay down for a bit. One more day down, one more day closer to home.
So they finally did it! With 13 days until my release they finally came through! I had my impacted wisdom tooth removed today! I can't feel my face...and it feels great! For all the crooked, unlawful, degrading, soul crushing, and despicable things I have seen done by the staff here to the inmates, this one single act has restored at least a fraction of respect for the OCSD and the other ruthless county workers here.
This afternoon, around 1:00 pm the deputy came on over our little speaker: Pppmph!!! "Jah juh wah mu ta ta Henderson?!" Pretty much all I heard was my last name.
"Uhhh...yes sir?"
PPPPMMMPH!!! "Wheme towa sama domtom."
You can understand my confusion. Shortly thereafter the lock was buzzed and I walked down, through the outer door, through yet another door where the deputy handed me a dental pass. Oooooh! I get it now! I am ushered down the long Death Star-like corridor I described before and had a seat in front of the Dental Office.
If I thought I had seen plenty of tattooed faces before I was housed here, I was wrong. It was almost as if my lack of neck, head, and face tattoos cause the guys in this waiting area to look at me as if there was something wrong with me! You know the expression, "eyes on the back of your head"? Well I was most uncomfortable because the young man directly in front of me had, well, eyes and a menacing face tattooed on the back of his head that appeared to be staring directly at me...into my soul!
I met with the dentist after looking over and signing the scariest medical releases I'd ever seen. But what the hell? If, in a few weeks, I am drooling out of the left side of my face and my jaw is wired shut, and I'm blind and going bald, you'll know what's up.
The dentist was very nice, and had a Danish accent but was still very easy to understand. He shot my gums full of something to numb them. He told me, if I felt anything to let him know and he'd give me more. What?! They're not going to knock me out? No. Oh well I couldn't feel anything from the neck up at that moment anyway, so I rolled with it. Anyway, if I was out cold I couldn't write about it later right?
So they (the dentist and his little assistant, a young Asian lady) go right to work cutting the gums around the tooth. Then the dentist begins drilling the tooth in half and breaking it up into smaller pieces with a chisel type tool and removing the fragments. I could kinda feel it, when he was chipping the tooth down. And I could definitely hear it. But it wasn't so bad.
After everything was done they stitched me up and gave me some instructions on how to take care of it. They gave me some ibuprofen to take in between the scheduled medicine I would be receiving at med call for the next week until they called me back to take the stitches out. And that was that.
As I am writing this I am starting to get some of the feeling in my face back, and experience some of the pain they predicted. But it's all good because I actually got it done. Granted it took three and a half months and a housing transfer plus numerous false starts. And I probably won't be eating any toffee peanuts for a bit, but it's done.
While I was there they said that I should have one of my wisdom teeth on the top left side removed as well. I doubt it will happen while I am here, and I don't want to stick around longer to have it taken care of. So I'll have to have it looked at sometime this year when I am out of here.
But I am very pleased that it really did happen. Now I don't have to be in public with a swollen face, and I don't have to bother with the pain of it anywhere else but in here. Honestly, being in physical pain will be a nice little change from the dull aching psychic pain that one goes through here on a daily basis. The pain that comes waking up in here will be pushed to the back of the line for a few days. Which I am more than happy for.
The real challenge is going to be working out tomorrow as I had planned if my head and face are still going to hurt like this. Wow, it's really starting to hurt. I think I am going to check off another day on my calendar and lay down for a bit. One more day down, one more day closer to home.
Broken Clothes by Jordan M. Rockwell
Talking shoes, hell talking shirts!
Maybe it was gold at some juncture but
now it's broken.
Broken clothes
You know you've lost when you smell those
County issue clothes
Orange becomes dark yellow.
Like the color of older school buses if they'd
been washed over a million times in a washing machine
Thanks Bob
Maybe it was gold at some juncture but
now it's broken.
Broken clothes
You know you've lost when you smell those
County issue clothes
Orange becomes dark yellow.
Like the color of older school buses if they'd
been washed over a million times in a washing machine
Thanks Bob
A Call to Today's Youth!
Young men of America! I implore you to listen. A growing number of today's youth in Southern California are joining gangs. This comes as such a welcome surprise to me that so many of you already have the right idea. Hopefully many more will follow suit. For there's no better choice a young man can make for himself than shrugging his responsibilities, his hopes and aspirations, his goals and dreams, and anything else that may portray him in a positive light. Join your local gang.
If there isn't one in your neighborhood start one! Instead of working hard and applying yourself to bettering yourself and your future and all that nonsense, just start hanging around with the rest of them. You can always just say you're a product of your environment! That one always works.
Think about all you'll never have to worry about. Gas prices can skyrocket and it won't matter. You don't need to bother with wandering too far outside of your general area. You don't have to worry about seeing the world, or traveling or any of that. You don't ever need to leave your neighborhood. I mean that's your hood! Between court cases, crime, and going in and out of jails and prisons, who has time to vacation anyway? You don't have to worry about retiring someday. Hell you probably won't have to worry about planning your 25th birthday! Graduating high school and college? Why bother? You can't learn how to be a G in school! Drop out! It'll benefit you in the long run. Less time in school is more time on the block.
Get some Nike Cortez's, some long white socks, some Dickies shorts, a white shirt and a flannel. Accent your ensemble with
some bandannas,
get a gun, get jumped in. Get a nickname, and as many gang-related tattoos on face, neck, head, and arms, as possible. Shave your head and you're in! You no longer have to worry about being viewed by society as an individual, with feelings and emotions. You're a statistic now! You have to make very few real choices about your future for the rest of your short life. Who cares what your family thinks, you're a product of your surroundings remember? Girlfriends? Kids? You can always have more of those. But once you join a gang and get it tattooed across your eyebrows, there's no turning back.
You only get one gang. You only get one neighborhood. If your're going to do it, do it right. Why live a nice, long, full, and well-rounded life full of love when you can be one of the toughest gangsters within a small concentrated urban area? Why raise a family and have an education and a career when you can die young and be remembered for being loyal to underachieving? I say join the crowd. Everybody's doing it.
If there isn't one in your neighborhood start one! Instead of working hard and applying yourself to bettering yourself and your future and all that nonsense, just start hanging around with the rest of them. You can always just say you're a product of your environment! That one always works.
Think about all you'll never have to worry about. Gas prices can skyrocket and it won't matter. You don't need to bother with wandering too far outside of your general area. You don't have to worry about seeing the world, or traveling or any of that. You don't ever need to leave your neighborhood. I mean that's your hood! Between court cases, crime, and going in and out of jails and prisons, who has time to vacation anyway? You don't have to worry about retiring someday. Hell you probably won't have to worry about planning your 25th birthday! Graduating high school and college? Why bother? You can't learn how to be a G in school! Drop out! It'll benefit you in the long run. Less time in school is more time on the block.
Get some Nike Cortez's, some long white socks, some Dickies shorts, a white shirt and a flannel. Accent your ensemble with
some bandannas,get a gun, get jumped in. Get a nickname, and as many gang-related tattoos on face, neck, head, and arms, as possible. Shave your head and you're in! You no longer have to worry about being viewed by society as an individual, with feelings and emotions. You're a statistic now! You have to make very few real choices about your future for the rest of your short life. Who cares what your family thinks, you're a product of your surroundings remember? Girlfriends? Kids? You can always have more of those. But once you join a gang and get it tattooed across your eyebrows, there's no turning back.
You only get one gang. You only get one neighborhood. If your're going to do it, do it right. Why live a nice, long, full, and well-rounded life full of love when you can be one of the toughest gangsters within a small concentrated urban area? Why raise a family and have an education and a career when you can die young and be remembered for being loyal to underachieving? I say join the crowd. Everybody's doing it.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Accepting Responsibility
I find it funny how people in jail believe that, somehow, if they shave and do their best to look like a responsible member of society they will have a better chance in court. No matter how nice and decent you try to appear the D.A. and the judge can't really overlook the paperwork that has followed you throughout your criminal career.
Okay, so you got arrested for possession of meth. You might have a fighting chance of getting a good deal with your freshly shaved inmate mug, if you didn't already have four previous arrests for possession of meth, possession of an un-licensed firearm, and shoplifting on your record! And your 25 years old! I don't care if you come into that courtroom with wings on your back and a halo glowing above your head. You still made the bed you're lying in now.
And no, sorry guys, it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you are Mexican or black at that point. I'll admit, it probably didn't help you out initially being a "person of color" like the first time you got arrested.
But every time you got arrested after that was not "just because you are a Mexican" or "because you were black on a Thursday night." It's because you were breaking the law. The pure fact that you have been arrested for the same exact thing more than once should help you understand this truth.
I have met a lot, and I mean A LOT of white people that tell the same story. It's never their fault either it seems. They were in a "hot" area. Or some crazy obscure circumstance beyond their control or understanding led to their arrests. Is it ever the fact that you were breaking...er...the law?!
I am not in jail because my probation officer has it in for me, or because somebody who hates and envies me ratted me out, or because I just had a tough shake of things. I am in jail because I broke the law. Because it is illegal to do opiates, cocaine, and marijuana while drinking, whether you're on probation or not. If anything I am more deserving of being here because I was stupid enough to think I could get one over on probation. I had been clean for close to a year and a half, I had successfully completed a drug and alcohol abuse treatment program and had a certificate of completion to prove it.
I broke the law a lot more than I got caught for it. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. And when I was caught, my probation officer gave me the same chance to fix it she would have given anybody. It's nobody's fault but mine that I continued to use drugs, and smoked the "get out of jail free" card she offered me. So when I was in court, a white kid, from Yorba Linda, not in a gang, not black or Mexican, I was still sentenced to 180 days with good time/work time for my second violation. And you know why?
BECAUSE I BROKE THE LAW!
I may have been clean for a long time, but I was still taken to jail for violating probation again. I did the exact same thing that got me violated the first time! Just like an idiot!
I can accept responsibility for this fact. I realize I will never be able to successfully drink and use drugs without jail being a consequence. I am not smart enough to get away with anything especially on probation. I've proved it twice now! No matter how I spin it, I broke the law and that's why I am in jail. And if I get out, and break the law and get caught again, I will go to jail. It's that simple.
I am sleeping in the bed (or bunk) I made for myself. The system is not fair and probably never will be. Black and Mexican people in cars with tinted windows and loud sound systems playing gangsta rap will always be targets to get pulled over. Mexican males with shaved heads, tattoos on their necks and Dickies shorts, white pulled up socks and flannels driving cars with Raiders decals on the back will always be targets. Black males driving in any white neighborhood after a certain hour are a target. I don't like it either, but unfortunately that's just the way it is and I'm sorry to say that it doesn't appear as though it is going to change anytime soon.
I get pulled over too. And it doesn't bother me one bit, when I'm not breaking the law! I'm getting tired of hearing people talk about how it's BS the reason their in jail or how they got racially profiled, when they were in fact breaking the law. If you're complaining about always getting harassed by police because of the way you dress, dress differently! Harassed because you head is shaved, don't shave your head! Because you have gang related tattoos on your face and neck, well...damn, you should've thought that one out a little better.
Some things can't be helped, but don't complain about returning to jail if you're continuously committing crimes and risk getting caught for them. I complain about the conditions I am subjected to here in jail, because it sucks, duh. But I can't complain about the reasons leading to me being here because I put myself here. If I don't accept responsibility then I will not learn my lesson and I am doomed to repeat my mistakes and failures.
Okay, so you got arrested for possession of meth. You might have a fighting chance of getting a good deal with your freshly shaved inmate mug, if you didn't already have four previous arrests for possession of meth, possession of an un-licensed firearm, and shoplifting on your record! And your 25 years old! I don't care if you come into that courtroom with wings on your back and a halo glowing above your head. You still made the bed you're lying in now.
And no, sorry guys, it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you are Mexican or black at that point. I'll admit, it probably didn't help you out initially being a "person of color" like the first time you got arrested.
But every time you got arrested after that was not "just because you are a Mexican" or "because you were black on a Thursday night." It's because you were breaking the law. The pure fact that you have been arrested for the same exact thing more than once should help you understand this truth.
I have met a lot, and I mean A LOT of white people that tell the same story. It's never their fault either it seems. They were in a "hot" area. Or some crazy obscure circumstance beyond their control or understanding led to their arrests. Is it ever the fact that you were breaking...er...the law?!
I am not in jail because my probation officer has it in for me, or because somebody who hates and envies me ratted me out, or because I just had a tough shake of things. I am in jail because I broke the law. Because it is illegal to do opiates, cocaine, and marijuana while drinking, whether you're on probation or not. If anything I am more deserving of being here because I was stupid enough to think I could get one over on probation. I had been clean for close to a year and a half, I had successfully completed a drug and alcohol abuse treatment program and had a certificate of completion to prove it.
I broke the law a lot more than I got caught for it. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. And when I was caught, my probation officer gave me the same chance to fix it she would have given anybody. It's nobody's fault but mine that I continued to use drugs, and smoked the "get out of jail free" card she offered me. So when I was in court, a white kid, from Yorba Linda, not in a gang, not black or Mexican, I was still sentenced to 180 days with good time/work time for my second violation. And you know why?
BECAUSE I BROKE THE LAW!
I may have been clean for a long time, but I was still taken to jail for violating probation again. I did the exact same thing that got me violated the first time! Just like an idiot!
I can accept responsibility for this fact. I realize I will never be able to successfully drink and use drugs without jail being a consequence. I am not smart enough to get away with anything especially on probation. I've proved it twice now! No matter how I spin it, I broke the law and that's why I am in jail. And if I get out, and break the law and get caught again, I will go to jail. It's that simple.
I am sleeping in the bed (or bunk) I made for myself. The system is not fair and probably never will be. Black and Mexican people in cars with tinted windows and loud sound systems playing gangsta rap will always be targets to get pulled over. Mexican males with shaved heads, tattoos on their necks and Dickies shorts, white pulled up socks and flannels driving cars with Raiders decals on the back will always be targets. Black males driving in any white neighborhood after a certain hour are a target. I don't like it either, but unfortunately that's just the way it is and I'm sorry to say that it doesn't appear as though it is going to change anytime soon.
I get pulled over too. And it doesn't bother me one bit, when I'm not breaking the law! I'm getting tired of hearing people talk about how it's BS the reason their in jail or how they got racially profiled, when they were in fact breaking the law. If you're complaining about always getting harassed by police because of the way you dress, dress differently! Harassed because you head is shaved, don't shave your head! Because you have gang related tattoos on your face and neck, well...damn, you should've thought that one out a little better.
Some things can't be helped, but don't complain about returning to jail if you're continuously committing crimes and risk getting caught for them. I complain about the conditions I am subjected to here in jail, because it sucks, duh. But I can't complain about the reasons leading to me being here because I put myself here. If I don't accept responsibility then I will not learn my lesson and I am doomed to repeat my mistakes and failures.
Patient: Doctor...it hurts really bad when I do this!
Doctor: Well...then don't do that anymore.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Unexpected Visitor
Written January 3, 2009
The commissary they do here just flipped the script* on me I think and now I am just confused, and I don't have any stamps at all, and I am not sure if I am going to have enough money to cover the last order I put in. I made a new order because I thought the order I made before would be thrown out but only part of it was and...yeah I'm just confused. Now you probably are too.
You wouldn't believe just how crooked the ordering and commissary system is here. Well, of you course you would, this is the OCSD we're talking about! But I am going to stop myself on that subject because I still have two more weeks in here and I don't want to get in anymore trouble while I'm here. Now I had a slightly...odd experience today. Not bad, don't get me wrong. It was just unexpected you could say. I got called to a visit, and when they do that they say over the little speaker in our cells what numbered booth I am to go to. I was told to go to #5, and when I walked up the stairs to where the visiting is at, I was fully expecting to see my parents there. But instead there was an early twenties looking brunette girl who I did not know awaiting me. I thought maybe there was some mistake, but then she waved at me. What is the meaning of this?! I don't know this girl! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY PARENTS????!!!
She is the same girl I mentioned yesterday who wrote me and is a reader of the blog. It was bordering awkward for me for a second there. She was very nice and all, that wasn't the problem. It's kinda that, I like to make good impressions on people if it's at all possible, and having never met this girl before today, our first introduction being through glass, in a county jail, wasn't an impression I am stoked on. But you know, she was really nice, and it was very sweet of her to come and visit me, even though we didn't know each other. And she had nothing but good things to say about my blog, and hopefully despite the fact that I had just awakened and was wearing orange clothes that say "OC JAIL" on them, I was able to make a good impression for out first time meeting.
I mean hell, I have friends I have known over ten years who are my "best friends" who haven't written or visited me. And here, this girl who only knows the guy whose blog she's seen takes it upon herself to come down and visit me.
My "best friend" (who will remain nameless because his title is currently in question due to his actions, whom I have known over a decade, who I share the same birthday with and everything. I would die for this guy, I would kill for this guy, I would do anything for him) hasn't returned a single letter in almost four months. I even got a Christmas card from his family today. And still no word from him. I still love the guy, don't get me wrong. I can be mad only so long before I have to remind myself that we are all human, and we all do selfish things that hurt others, even our best friends.
Geez, I am not sure where I was going with all that. Did I just do a kinda mini tangent that branched off from me talking about how nice it was for this girl I didn't know to visit me? I did huh? Why didn't any of you stop me? Just say,
Well with that there is absolutely no denying just how tired I really am. So I am going to check off another day on my little calendar here. There we go. One more day down, one more day closer to home. And I am going to bed. Goodnight.
*To do the unexpected. To deviate from the norm.
The commissary they do here just flipped the script* on me I think and now I am just confused, and I don't have any stamps at all, and I am not sure if I am going to have enough money to cover the last order I put in. I made a new order because I thought the order I made before would be thrown out but only part of it was and...yeah I'm just confused. Now you probably are too.
You wouldn't believe just how crooked the ordering and commissary system is here. Well, of you course you would, this is the OCSD we're talking about! But I am going to stop myself on that subject because I still have two more weeks in here and I don't want to get in anymore trouble while I'm here. Now I had a slightly...odd experience today. Not bad, don't get me wrong. It was just unexpected you could say. I got called to a visit, and when they do that they say over the little speaker in our cells what numbered booth I am to go to. I was told to go to #5, and when I walked up the stairs to where the visiting is at, I was fully expecting to see my parents there. But instead there was an early twenties looking brunette girl who I did not know awaiting me. I thought maybe there was some mistake, but then she waved at me. What is the meaning of this?! I don't know this girl! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY PARENTS????!!!
She is the same girl I mentioned yesterday who wrote me and is a reader of the blog. It was bordering awkward for me for a second there. She was very nice and all, that wasn't the problem. It's kinda that, I like to make good impressions on people if it's at all possible, and having never met this girl before today, our first introduction being through glass, in a county jail, wasn't an impression I am stoked on. But you know, she was really nice, and it was very sweet of her to come and visit me, even though we didn't know each other. And she had nothing but good things to say about my blog, and hopefully despite the fact that I had just awakened and was wearing orange clothes that say "OC JAIL" on them, I was able to make a good impression for out first time meeting.
I mean hell, I have friends I have known over ten years who are my "best friends" who haven't written or visited me. And here, this girl who only knows the guy whose blog she's seen takes it upon herself to come down and visit me.
My "best friend" (who will remain nameless because his title is currently in question due to his actions, whom I have known over a decade, who I share the same birthday with and everything. I would die for this guy, I would kill for this guy, I would do anything for him) hasn't returned a single letter in almost four months. I even got a Christmas card from his family today. And still no word from him. I still love the guy, don't get me wrong. I can be mad only so long before I have to remind myself that we are all human, and we all do selfish things that hurt others, even our best friends.
Geez, I am not sure where I was going with all that. Did I just do a kinda mini tangent that branched off from me talking about how nice it was for this girl I didn't know to visit me? I did huh? Why didn't any of you stop me? Just say,
"Hey NightHawk, uhh you're getting a little off subject here man. Sorry to hear about your best friend and all, but focus would ya?I must be more tired than I thought. Anyway, thanks for coming to visit me today, and for the letters and everything. That was sweet of you and I really do appreciate it.
Well with that there is absolutely no denying just how tired I really am. So I am going to check off another day on my little calendar here. There we go. One more day down, one more day closer to home. And I am going to bed. Goodnight.
*To do the unexpected. To deviate from the norm.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Some Interesting Questions
Today I was faced with some interesting questions as a result of a letter I received from a reader of my blog. This letter was from a young lady who I had met one time briefly (right before I was taken into custody). I knew very little about her though we have mutual friends.
We haven't conversed, so anything she knows about me or my character and personality was learned primarily through reading www.jordansinjail.blogspot.com or through speaking with people who have known me.
This led me to ponder:
I began this blog for a few reasons. One was so my friends and extended family could know what I am up to in here. Another is so people that have never been to jail can get a glimpse of what someone may go through here, and to just educate. Also I wanted to have something to do! And it's been a real blessing. Also, I wanted to be able to chronicle my experience here so later I could go back and be able to see the changes I was lucky and blessed enough to go through. I can always look back and remember why it is that I never want to go back.
Most of my readers are family and friends I've known for some time. Others are people I may have been incarcerated with at one point along the way (which reminds me, what's up Tex! Robinson! Tristan! Holla atcha boy!) who have already been released. I am also aware of a growing number of deputies of the OCSD who read. Plus there's a whole bunch of other people I may have never met before.
Now in my return letter to this young lady who I mentioned above, I wrote that I hope the things she heard about me as a person are all still true. And it caused me to think about the fact that I am quite different in a lot of ways than the person I was before I was taken to jail almost three and a half months ago. Since then I have:
Am I still going to feel the same way about certain people once I am back? Are people going to feel the same way about me? Are all of my clothes still going to fit?
Will I live up to the "persona" that people who only know me from the blog see?
Am I really better or worse than before? How many questions can I ask in a row?
Who am I now and who will I be when I get out? I don't know.
I have been so long immersed in the persona I have to be here that sometimes it is hard to remember the person I was. I am not even 100% sure yet of who it is I want to be when I am released.
Are girls going to like me and think I'm cute now that I have short, shaved hair? As you can tell I have a lot of time to think here.
I have gotten letters as a result of the blog from plenty of people I don't know, but it wasn't until the letter I got today that I actually thought about the Jordan that is portrayed. I got a letter a few days back from someone I was at the farm with named Ryan (Tex is his nickname, he's from Texas) and it was great, because I can clearly remember who it is that he was writing to, because it was like a month ago that we were together. But I also got a letter from one of my very best friends, Isaiah, whom I have known for over a decade and love dearly. Isaiah has known me at many different times in my life, and probably is one of the people I can say knows me the best. And at this juncture I may not fully remember the Jordan I was the last time I saw him.
I am told it'll take a while to get back to normal, and I hope rediscovering the person I was will be like riding a bicycle. I also want to take certain aspects of the "old" Jordan that were healthy and good traits, and combine them with the new healthy and good traits God has blessed me with through my experience here. And I can come back the best of both worlds! The new and improved hybrid Jordan! Or at least a Jordan that doesn't disappoint those with certain pre-fabricated images of me based on my writing and my blog.
I know that I may come off as completely flawless and perfect, devoid of any error. But alas I assure you, I wake up and put my pants on one leg at a time just like all you mortals out there reading this. I am quite flattered really, but I am just like you.
Anyway, to the young lady who wrote me the letter that sparked all of this questioning of myself...thank you. It was very sweet of you. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and don't worry, I know you didn't intend by writing it to send me spiraling into a tailspin of questions.
I am fairly certain you know who you are; if you don't I won't put you on blast.* I look forward to meeting you in a few weeks. Don't be surprised if I am not up to par with who the blog says I am. I try not to, but I still swear sometimes. I don't look anything like the guy in the pictures anymore. I am all pale and tired looking with short hair and tattoos all over me.
But I do still very much appreciate the letter and please write back soon and tell your friends about the blog. And with that...I am going to cross another day on my little calendar, one more day down, one more day closer to home, and go to sleep. Or probably read a couple more chapters in the new book I just started, The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe, and then go to sleep. Anyway, goodnight everybody.
*to expose or make known. (From the Urban Dictionary Web site.)
We haven't conversed, so anything she knows about me or my character and personality was learned primarily through reading www.jordansinjail.blogspot.com or through speaking with people who have known me.
This led me to ponder:
What am I like to people who've never really met me and only know me from my blog?Do I come across to people reading it the same as I feel writing it? Does that even make sense?
I began this blog for a few reasons. One was so my friends and extended family could know what I am up to in here. Another is so people that have never been to jail can get a glimpse of what someone may go through here, and to just educate. Also I wanted to have something to do! And it's been a real blessing. Also, I wanted to be able to chronicle my experience here so later I could go back and be able to see the changes I was lucky and blessed enough to go through. I can always look back and remember why it is that I never want to go back.
Most of my readers are family and friends I've known for some time. Others are people I may have been incarcerated with at one point along the way (which reminds me, what's up Tex! Robinson! Tristan! Holla atcha boy!) who have already been released. I am also aware of a growing number of deputies of the OCSD who read. Plus there's a whole bunch of other people I may have never met before.
Now in my return letter to this young lady who I mentioned above, I wrote that I hope the things she heard about me as a person are all still true. And it caused me to think about the fact that I am quite different in a lot of ways than the person I was before I was taken to jail almost three and a half months ago. Since then I have:
- done things I never thought I would have to do
- formed relationships I never would have given a second look
- accomplished things I am proud of, and
- had to do things I am in no way proud of and am going to have to live with
Am I still going to feel the same way about certain people once I am back? Are people going to feel the same way about me? Are all of my clothes still going to fit?
Will I live up to the "persona" that people who only know me from the blog see?
Am I really better or worse than before? How many questions can I ask in a row?
Who am I now and who will I be when I get out? I don't know.
I have been so long immersed in the persona I have to be here that sometimes it is hard to remember the person I was. I am not even 100% sure yet of who it is I want to be when I am released.
Are girls going to like me and think I'm cute now that I have short, shaved hair? As you can tell I have a lot of time to think here.
I have gotten letters as a result of the blog from plenty of people I don't know, but it wasn't until the letter I got today that I actually thought about the Jordan that is portrayed. I got a letter a few days back from someone I was at the farm with named Ryan (Tex is his nickname, he's from Texas) and it was great, because I can clearly remember who it is that he was writing to, because it was like a month ago that we were together. But I also got a letter from one of my very best friends, Isaiah, whom I have known for over a decade and love dearly. Isaiah has known me at many different times in my life, and probably is one of the people I can say knows me the best. And at this juncture I may not fully remember the Jordan I was the last time I saw him.
I am told it'll take a while to get back to normal, and I hope rediscovering the person I was will be like riding a bicycle. I also want to take certain aspects of the "old" Jordan that were healthy and good traits, and combine them with the new healthy and good traits God has blessed me with through my experience here. And I can come back the best of both worlds! The new and improved hybrid Jordan! Or at least a Jordan that doesn't disappoint those with certain pre-fabricated images of me based on my writing and my blog.
I know that I may come off as completely flawless and perfect, devoid of any error. But alas I assure you, I wake up and put my pants on one leg at a time just like all you mortals out there reading this. I am quite flattered really, but I am just like you.
Anyway, to the young lady who wrote me the letter that sparked all of this questioning of myself...thank you. It was very sweet of you. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and don't worry, I know you didn't intend by writing it to send me spiraling into a tailspin of questions.
I am fairly certain you know who you are; if you don't I won't put you on blast.* I look forward to meeting you in a few weeks. Don't be surprised if I am not up to par with who the blog says I am. I try not to, but I still swear sometimes. I don't look anything like the guy in the pictures anymore. I am all pale and tired looking with short hair and tattoos all over me.
But I do still very much appreciate the letter and please write back soon and tell your friends about the blog. And with that...I am going to cross another day on my little calendar, one more day down, one more day closer to home, and go to sleep. Or probably read a couple more chapters in the new book I just started, The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe, and then go to sleep. Anyway, goodnight everybody.*to expose or make known. (From the Urban Dictionary Web site.)
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Jail Style Dodge Ball
Written January 1, 2009
Well here we are, in a whole new year that feels almost exactly the same from where I am at. I have started my last few entries with the word "Well" haven't I? Oh whatever.
Only two things made today stand out from other days:
There is a way to look up booking numbers of inmates on the Web, and since there were a few good guys I wanted to keep in touch with whose info I didn't get a chance to before my hasty departure, I made a short list of people and sent to someone very special to me. This very special person in turn went on the Web, got these booking numbers, and told me they were sending them to me. Now I can let some people know what exactly happened to me and maybe find out how things are going at Musick.
As silly as it may sound, I was kinda worried about the place after I left. I know, I know, that's a clear sign I've been in jail too long. But the truth is I had been there the longest out of any of the white people (and most everyone else too) and held a lot of keys there at yellow tent and had a lot of responsibility. I was the wood Rep there. I had no faith in the Right Hand's ability to lead fairly, but all the other woods that were there were either worse candidates or only going to be in custody like eight or nine days. So not only am I kinda interested to know if the peace is still being kept there, but I was kinda interested to know who took over after I left as rep and if they are doing as good a job (or better) as I did.
I know I shouldn't care, but my heart is just too big sometimes and even though I am going home in two and a half weeks, there are people I've come to know well and care about at the farm who are going to be there for a little bit longer. I want to know they are alright.
I should get all their booking numbers hopefully tomorrow (Friday) and then Lord willing I should get some envelopes and stamps this Saturday (I run out of them pretty quickly) on commissary, at the latest Tuesday. But I already started writing the letters to them today because I was excited when I heard I'd be able to and also I had some free time.
Thanks Michelle for writing me and for reading the blog. It'll be a little bit before I can make it across state lines to come visit you. But maybe you'll be coming out this way soon after I get out and we can get together.
One more thing I wanted to touch on...apparently while I have
been in jail, "Chinese Democracy" the long, looooooong awaited studio album from one of my favorite bands, Guns N' Roses, has finally been released. Now, the better part of my life as a performer and someone with a deep appreciation for music has been spent waiting for this album to come out. Axl Rose has been working on it for damn near 19 years! I know it came out in November, but I just found out about it. Does anybody understand what this means to me? I get out of jail, and I will have available to me a brand new GNR album for purchase!! The gods smile upon me!
If I had been aware of Chinese Democracy being released I would have asked someone to play it for me over the phone or something. Anyway, I'm stoked.
But now, I am going to mark another day off on my calendar and go to bed. Another day down, another day closer to home. Bye y'all.
Well here we are, in a whole new year that feels almost exactly the same from where I am at. I have started my last few entries with the word "Well" haven't I? Oh whatever.
Only two things made today stand out from other days:
- When I dated this letter I wrote a 200 and then a 9 instead of an 8.
- We all had the idea to play dodge ball, which is probably one of the best games ever just as as it is, but jail style dodge ball took an a whole new persona.
The shoes here are like the most shot-out, beat up, talking shoes ever. For those of you who've never seen them they are like some orange color slip-ons. So in our game of dodge ball, we allowed kicking the ball as a means of attack. But whenever anyone would kick the ball, his shoe would fly off and sometimes hit the target as well. There is a chain link fence across the top of our little outdoor area, and at one point someone kicked the ball so hard that his shoe flew straight up and got caught in the chain link fence. What are the chances? We all about died from laughing and spent the next little bit throwing anything we could to dislodge the shoe and finally did. Honestly it was the most fun and the most I've laughed since I've been here.
There is a way to look up booking numbers of inmates on the Web, and since there were a few good guys I wanted to keep in touch with whose info I didn't get a chance to before my hasty departure, I made a short list of people and sent to someone very special to me. This very special person in turn went on the Web, got these booking numbers, and told me they were sending them to me. Now I can let some people know what exactly happened to me and maybe find out how things are going at Musick.
As silly as it may sound, I was kinda worried about the place after I left. I know, I know, that's a clear sign I've been in jail too long. But the truth is I had been there the longest out of any of the white people (and most everyone else too) and held a lot of keys there at yellow tent and had a lot of responsibility. I was the wood Rep there. I had no faith in the Right Hand's ability to lead fairly, but all the other woods that were there were either worse candidates or only going to be in custody like eight or nine days. So not only am I kinda interested to know if the peace is still being kept there, but I was kinda interested to know who took over after I left as rep and if they are doing as good a job (or better) as I did.
I know I shouldn't care, but my heart is just too big sometimes and even though I am going home in two and a half weeks, there are people I've come to know well and care about at the farm who are going to be there for a little bit longer. I want to know they are alright.
I should get all their booking numbers hopefully tomorrow (Friday) and then Lord willing I should get some envelopes and stamps this Saturday (I run out of them pretty quickly) on commissary, at the latest Tuesday. But I already started writing the letters to them today because I was excited when I heard I'd be able to and also I had some free time.
Thanks Michelle for writing me and for reading the blog. It'll be a little bit before I can make it across state lines to come visit you. But maybe you'll be coming out this way soon after I get out and we can get together.
One more thing I wanted to touch on...apparently while I have
been in jail, "Chinese Democracy" the long, looooooong awaited studio album from one of my favorite bands, Guns N' Roses, has finally been released. Now, the better part of my life as a performer and someone with a deep appreciation for music has been spent waiting for this album to come out. Axl Rose has been working on it for damn near 19 years! I know it came out in November, but I just found out about it. Does anybody understand what this means to me? I get out of jail, and I will have available to me a brand new GNR album for purchase!! The gods smile upon me!
If I had been aware of Chinese Democracy being released I would have asked someone to play it for me over the phone or something. Anyway, I'm stoked.
But now, I am going to mark another day off on my calendar and go to bed. Another day down, another day closer to home. Bye y'all.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Happy New Year's Everybody
Written late New Year's Eve 2008
It is shortly before the ball drops. I only know this because the deputies were nice enough to leave the countdown celebration on so that we might see it from our cells. These are the last words I am going to write in 2008. Here, while everyone else is out celebrating and yelling and drinking and kissing someone, I am by myself while Rico my cellmate is asleep. In jail. Writing.
I don't ever want to feel this hollow again. All I can think about is, "What are the people I love doing right now?" It's going to kill me to think about it and I am almost certain that I will get even less sleep tonight than most sleepless nights I have spent here.
Are they having a good time? Who are they with? Do you think in the excitement of everything, that they'll even think of me at all? I know some will. Probably most won't. The person running through my mind right now as I write this, undoubtedly will not waste a second to think of me before whisking off to whatever after party or whatever it is that is planned. But no matter how much that hurts me to admit, it's true and I know it. And I deserve it too. This is no mix up I'm here, no accident. I put myself here. I am the only reason that I am not enjoying tonight like everyone else is. But I can tell you this: I am not going to do this again. I can't. I can take a lot, but this is overkill. I am usually depressed on holidays as it is, and I can honestly say that being in jail for the holidays didn't really help too much.
Well...it's 2009 Happy New Year's everybody.
It is shortly before the ball drops. I only know this because the deputies were nice enough to leave the countdown celebration on so that we might see it from our cells. These are the last words I am going to write in 2008. Here, while everyone else is out celebrating and yelling and drinking and kissing someone, I am by myself while Rico my cellmate is asleep. In jail. Writing.
I don't ever want to feel this hollow again. All I can think about is, "What are the people I love doing right now?" It's going to kill me to think about it and I am almost certain that I will get even less sleep tonight than most sleepless nights I have spent here.
Are they having a good time? Who are they with? Do you think in the excitement of everything, that they'll even think of me at all? I know some will. Probably most won't. The person running through my mind right now as I write this, undoubtedly will not waste a second to think of me before whisking off to whatever after party or whatever it is that is planned. But no matter how much that hurts me to admit, it's true and I know it. And I deserve it too. This is no mix up I'm here, no accident. I put myself here. I am the only reason that I am not enjoying tonight like everyone else is. But I can tell you this: I am not going to do this again. I can't. I can take a lot, but this is overkill. I am usually depressed on holidays as it is, and I can honestly say that being in jail for the holidays didn't really help too much.
Well...it's 2009 Happy New Year's everybody.
A Year Done
Written New Year's Eve, 2008
Well today is the last day that I am going to be in jail...in 2008. I don't get to see freedom until next year.
A year done. I wrote a letter similar to this one to my Mom a week or so ago, with basically the same sentiments. I just wanted to make this one more of a blanket statement to everyone I have come in contact with over this last year. It will include my Mom in it, and if you hear something that pertains to you than know you were included in it too.
This is the last chance in 2008 I get to say sorry to those whom I have wronged, so I'm taking it. I will do my best to not get upset and angry or get really depressed so that it shows in my writing. But when you commit to writing something like this, and being completely honest, there's really no going back afterwards.
So here it is. All I can do is hope and pray that you all forgive me. And make a promise to you all that next year will not see me making these same mistakes, or doing these same things again.
I wanted to say I am sorry. I apologize. For everything. For everything I did over this last year. For everything you already know about, and for everything you didn't know about. I am sorry that I let a lot of you down by relapsing. I let myself down too in that, but it didn't seem to matter at the time. I am sorry that I let you down and I am sorry I didn't ask for help. I know you would have been there, but it was too hard to come to you after how proud you had been. I was ashamed, and scared of what you would think.
But I know now that I should have come to you. And I'm sorry. I am sorry for all the craziness I put you through. All of you. I am sorry for taking advantage of your friendships because I knew you wouldn't turn your backs on me no matter how over the top or crazy my behavior got. You probably should've turned your backs on me more than a few times. I am sorry I used you, even if it was just for sympathy. I've been used too, and I know quite well what it can do to someone, and I had no right to turn around and do it to you.
I am sorry I wasn't a better son. I am sorry I wasn't a better boyfriend. I am sorry I wasn't a better ex-boyfriend. I am sorry I wasn't a better friend. And I am sorry I wasn't a better person. I am sorry about all the things I did and said to you that hurt both of us and caused division just because I was confused and wounded in my heart. I didn't know how to handle what I was going through clean, or at all. And I made every wrong decision I could it seems.
I am sorry I let the air out your tires on April Fool's day. And I am sorry that before my shift ended that one time I switched salt into the sugar bowl and put sugar in the salt shakers and got you in trouble. I am sorry for rumors I started about you out of anger. And I am sorry for cutting remarks I would make to you and about you in public.
I am sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, and then ran with it when I saw I could benefit from it. I am sorry I am morbid. I am sorry I like to give the impression at times that I think very highly of myself and that I don't care about you. It's a front to hide behind. I am sorry I purposely didn't keep in better touch so that I could have a better excuse.
I am sorry I took advantage of your love and kindness toward me. I am just sorry for everything. And I am sorry to all of you. And although none of you have to give a damn about my apology, or forgive me, or ever talk to me again, I pray that you do.
I hope and pray that you can forgive me, you will forgive me, you do forgive me. We move on from this to a better place. Accept my promise that I will do everything within my power to never let it happen again. Not on my part. Let's leave it in 2008.
*Miss Misery by Elliott Smith
Well today is the last day that I am going to be in jail...in 2008. I don't get to see freedom until next year.
but it's alright, 'cause some enchanted
night, I'll be with you*
A year done. I wrote a letter similar to this one to my Mom a week or so ago, with basically the same sentiments. I just wanted to make this one more of a blanket statement to everyone I have come in contact with over this last year. It will include my Mom in it, and if you hear something that pertains to you than know you were included in it too.
This is the last chance in 2008 I get to say sorry to those whom I have wronged, so I'm taking it. I will do my best to not get upset and angry or get really depressed so that it shows in my writing. But when you commit to writing something like this, and being completely honest, there's really no going back afterwards.
So here it is. All I can do is hope and pray that you all forgive me. And make a promise to you all that next year will not see me making these same mistakes, or doing these same things again.
I wanted to say I am sorry. I apologize. For everything. For everything I did over this last year. For everything you already know about, and for everything you didn't know about. I am sorry that I let a lot of you down by relapsing. I let myself down too in that, but it didn't seem to matter at the time. I am sorry that I let you down and I am sorry I didn't ask for help. I know you would have been there, but it was too hard to come to you after how proud you had been. I was ashamed, and scared of what you would think.
But I know now that I should have come to you. And I'm sorry. I am sorry for all the craziness I put you through. All of you. I am sorry for taking advantage of your friendships because I knew you wouldn't turn your backs on me no matter how over the top or crazy my behavior got. You probably should've turned your backs on me more than a few times. I am sorry I used you, even if it was just for sympathy. I've been used too, and I know quite well what it can do to someone, and I had no right to turn around and do it to you.
I am sorry I wasn't a better son. I am sorry I wasn't a better boyfriend. I am sorry I wasn't a better ex-boyfriend. I am sorry I wasn't a better friend. And I am sorry I wasn't a better person. I am sorry about all the things I did and said to you that hurt both of us and caused division just because I was confused and wounded in my heart. I didn't know how to handle what I was going through clean, or at all. And I made every wrong decision I could it seems.
I am sorry I let the air out your tires on April Fool's day. And I am sorry that before my shift ended that one time I switched salt into the sugar bowl and put sugar in the salt shakers and got you in trouble. I am sorry for rumors I started about you out of anger. And I am sorry for cutting remarks I would make to you and about you in public.
I am sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, and then ran with it when I saw I could benefit from it. I am sorry I am morbid. I am sorry I like to give the impression at times that I think very highly of myself and that I don't care about you. It's a front to hide behind. I am sorry I purposely didn't keep in better touch so that I could have a better excuse.
I am sorry I took advantage of your love and kindness toward me. I am just sorry for everything. And I am sorry to all of you. And although none of you have to give a damn about my apology, or forgive me, or ever talk to me again, I pray that you do.
I hope and pray that you can forgive me, you will forgive me, you do forgive me. We move on from this to a better place. Accept my promise that I will do everything within my power to never let it happen again. Not on my part. Let's leave it in 2008.
*Miss Misery by Elliott Smith
A Trip to the Dentist
Written December 30, 2008
Eureka! I've found it! I thought it was lost indefinitely with my transfer here to Main, but no! The one redeeming value to coming to jail that I can use forever!
Let me explain for anyone who didn't already know. I have impacted wisdom teeth that I was to have taken out by an oral surgeon (quite pricey). Then I came to jail. Once at Musick, I found out that I could have the procedure done at Western Medical Center for free. Well I was stoked but the scheduling was always screwed up and I never had it done before they transferred me here to Main. I had kinda given up on it. Until today!
Yesterday, I put in a slip for dental to see if they could look at a sore tooth and determine if I may need a filling before I leave. Well they called me over the speaker: PZZZFT! "Hey Henderson, Henderson you have a dental pass, hurry up." PZZZFT!
I was given a pass and directed down some different hallways, everything was scary and cold and depressing, and there was no color anywhere. I understand why deputies here at the Main seem meaner than anywhere else. Look at where they have to work!
I was directed down an extremely long and colorless corridor that seemed to keep going
forever and ever. It was so long and had rectangular boxes with cameras everywhere in it. I feared, because of its length, that I had been sent down a wrong corridor. It felt like I was walking down a corridor in a much dirtier version of the Death Star from Star Wars. Like the Death Star, but much more depressing, and no robots. The only aliens walking through there are illegal aliens with INS holds. So I finally get to the end where there is a sort of waiting room. I give my pass to someone, and am seen by a dentist almost instantly. Push the button, that was easy.
I explain to the dental assistant, who was a very nice young Asian lady, about my impacted wisdom teeth and how I was certain nothing could be done now, but if she could look at my sore tooth? Well not only were they aware of my impacted wisdom teeth, but they had all my records AND the x-ray that they didn't have at Western Medical center that day awhile back. And on top of that, they have an oral surgeon who comes to the Main apparently to do such surgeries! Hallelujah! There is hope!
She is going to have me come back in the New Year to see him and hopefully we can have the procedure done before I go. Now, I already understand that there is a greater possibility of the procedure not taking place than there is of it going down in the next 20 days I am here. But I can still hope and pray. I've been waiting about three months to have it done, and nothing; why wouldn't it happen the last few weeks I am here right?
Oh yeah, the other semi-cool thing that happened today was I hit the triple digits. I have now been in jail for one hundred days. That means that as of today, I have twenty days left in custody. Oh yeah!
Aside from that, not much else is new here. We had "outdoor recreation" today and they put us in the open air area that has a basketball hoop instead of the other one. That was cool. And I got to have a nice long talk with my friend Konstintin (I spelled his name Constantine before which was incorrect) that I knew from the farm, which was nice. And yeah, we get hot dogs for lunch today and have dayroom last between 9pm-11pm so I am going to work out later some more and take a shower later on. Aside from that I am just going to check another day off on my calendar, and wait for lunch.
Later y'all.
Eureka! I've found it! I thought it was lost indefinitely with my transfer here to Main, but no! The one redeeming value to coming to jail that I can use forever!
Let me explain for anyone who didn't already know. I have impacted wisdom teeth that I was to have taken out by an oral surgeon (quite pricey). Then I came to jail. Once at Musick, I found out that I could have the procedure done at Western Medical Center for free. Well I was stoked but the scheduling was always screwed up and I never had it done before they transferred me here to Main. I had kinda given up on it. Until today!
Yesterday, I put in a slip for dental to see if they could look at a sore tooth and determine if I may need a filling before I leave. Well they called me over the speaker: PZZZFT! "Hey Henderson, Henderson you have a dental pass, hurry up." PZZZFT!
I was given a pass and directed down some different hallways, everything was scary and cold and depressing, and there was no color anywhere. I understand why deputies here at the Main seem meaner than anywhere else. Look at where they have to work!
I was directed down an extremely long and colorless corridor that seemed to keep going
forever and ever. It was so long and had rectangular boxes with cameras everywhere in it. I feared, because of its length, that I had been sent down a wrong corridor. It felt like I was walking down a corridor in a much dirtier version of the Death Star from Star Wars. Like the Death Star, but much more depressing, and no robots. The only aliens walking through there are illegal aliens with INS holds. So I finally get to the end where there is a sort of waiting room. I give my pass to someone, and am seen by a dentist almost instantly. Push the button, that was easy.I explain to the dental assistant, who was a very nice young Asian lady, about my impacted wisdom teeth and how I was certain nothing could be done now, but if she could look at my sore tooth? Well not only were they aware of my impacted wisdom teeth, but they had all my records AND the x-ray that they didn't have at Western Medical center that day awhile back. And on top of that, they have an oral surgeon who comes to the Main apparently to do such surgeries! Hallelujah! There is hope!
She is going to have me come back in the New Year to see him and hopefully we can have the procedure done before I go. Now, I already understand that there is a greater possibility of the procedure not taking place than there is of it going down in the next 20 days I am here. But I can still hope and pray. I've been waiting about three months to have it done, and nothing; why wouldn't it happen the last few weeks I am here right?
Oh yeah, the other semi-cool thing that happened today was I hit the triple digits. I have now been in jail for one hundred days. That means that as of today, I have twenty days left in custody. Oh yeah!
Aside from that, not much else is new here. We had "outdoor recreation" today and they put us in the open air area that has a basketball hoop instead of the other one. That was cool. And I got to have a nice long talk with my friend Konstintin (I spelled his name Constantine before which was incorrect) that I knew from the farm, which was nice. And yeah, we get hot dogs for lunch today and have dayroom last between 9pm-11pm so I am going to work out later some more and take a shower later on. Aside from that I am just going to check another day off on my calendar, and wait for lunch.
Later y'all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
