Just a quick blog to let y'all know I haven't died or landed back in jail or anything.  lol  Still trying to find some type of income besides crappy child support which almost stopped thanks to me pissing Willie and his dear mother off.  Long story short:  They tried to blackmail me into dropping the case against Willie the way Pam dropped her case against me.  Ha ha, yeah right, like I'm gonna fall for that.  I'm not that insane.  Let them make their threats of reopening the case and having me thrown back in jail!  I WILL have a job by the time that crap rolls around again, either that or I'm gonna die trying!  They're being utterly ridiculous, trying to hold the issue of Brian's adoption over my head.  It's all BS.  Wish I had more time to explain, but I'm hitching a ride with Jaime so I've gotta run.

BTW, though, two things I should mention:  One, my baby boy is finally in Pre-K!  YAY FREEDOM during the day!  lol  Two, my laptop died, so I'm having to pen-and-paper Circle Sky for now.  That sucks, but I'll live I hope.

OK, gotta jet.  BFN, luvs ya lots, hope to have more time to blog and catch up soon!

The worst month and a half of my life is now over.  Thank God.

Well, I can't really say it was the absolute worst, but it was pretty bad.  Though I did walk into court that morning expecting to possibly not walk out, it didn't ease my mind when my expectation came true.

I was summoned to appear in court on April 29.  As that date drew nearer, I became more and more nervous.  Everyone who had read my blog up to that point probably remembers how my job hunting attempts had gone.  Well, things were starting to look up right before the big day--I'd had an interview scheduled with McDonald's.  The only problem was it was scheduled the day AFTER the court date.  Ugh.  I have the world's worst luck with timing.

The day before court, I went to DFACS to see if I could possibly avoid the hassle of sitting in court all day by begging for mercy and asking for any kind of help they could offer.  The only suggestion the caseworker could give me was to go to McDonald's and ask for a letter stating the date and time of my interview so that I could show it to the judge as proof I had been job hunting and could possibly have gained employment.

Well, obviously that did no good at all.

Tricia's husband agreed to watch Alex for me that morning.  Turned out Tricia herself had also been summoned to court--her daughter's ex was getting a paternity test.  No idea why Tricia had to be there for that, but apparently all she had to do was show up.

Pam was also there.  As if I hadn't been nervous enough that morning.  Thankfully she wasn't giving me any evil eyes, but her mere presence knotted my stomach twice as much as normal.  The fact that Tricia was there helped a little, but not much, considering she and Pam are good friends.

We sat through three hours of appeals cases mixed with DFACS caseworkers calling names and trying to settle cases without actual court proceedings.  Mine of course had to be one of those that couldn't be settled that easily.  The judge ordered recess from noon to 1 PM.  I went home, once again forgetting to leave Tricia the car seat that I had forgotten to leave for her that morning in case I did get locked up.  Not to mention I ended up with her cellphones--none were allowed in the court building, so we had to lock them in our cars, but I had no idea where Tricia had parked, so I had to lock them in mine.

At home, I ate one slice of bologna and drank a few sips of Sprite.  My stomach barely handled that.  I chatted with my neighbor for about a minute, then hurried back to court.

I had to endure two more hours of court proceedings, then it was finally my turn.  I sat at one table, Pam sat at the other.  As I had feared, the judge overseeing the proceedings was Bo Woods, the same judge who had first issued the child support order just days before Alex was due to be born.  One look at his face told me the letter was going to be completely useless.  Less than five minutes later, my fear was confirmed.

There was no point in being brave or hiding my emotions.  The moment Woods instructed me to take a seat with the other people headed for jail, I burst into tears.  I didn't stop crying until I was moved from one holding cell to another.  (Not sure why they did that; guess they were making room for a male inmate?)  I wound up with a young woman who apparently liked to fake fainting spells and talk A LOT.  (I found out later why she'd been in a holding cell--those are also the cells used for lockdown.  I'll explain the lingo in a minute.)  She assured me she wasn't a lesbian, yet asked me to huddle next to her because she was cold.  Hmm.

Just when I was beginning to think they were going to wait till the next morning to book me, they took me out and began the ritual humiliation.  First the fingerprint computer, which never wants to take your prints, so the guard ends up nearly squeezing your fingertips off.  Then the joy of watching my personal belongings get dumped from my purse and held up to scrutiny.  Then of course the ever-fun pat-down.  When one of them asked me if I had any money, my inner smartass emerged:  "No.  That's my problem!  That's why I'm here!"  I traded my pretty sparkly job-hunting shoes for a pair of cracked rubber sandals, one size too small.  Then my mug shot was taken, an ID bracelet was made, and I answered the required medical questions.  (Suicidal thoughts?  Not really.  But depression?  Hell yes, THIS is depressing!)

Then came the moment I dreaded:  shower time.  I was pleasantly surprised to find a nicer officer escorting me this time around, so I actually received a towel to hold over my face while I was being sprayed with the lice killer.  However, the water temperature was a complete shock--I was expecting it to be ice cold like last time, but instead it was scalding hot.  At least the nice officer didn't yell at me, unlike that bitch who had booked me before.  She actually gave me time to rinse off, dry off, and put on my stripes.

At last it was time to meet my cellmates.  I was issued a paper-thin bunk mat with the accompanying bed linens, a large tote bag to hold the stuff I would eventually accumulate, and a handy-dandy booklet chock full of info such as a list of the most popular no-no's and the corresponding lengths of lockdown time those offenses would earn you.  Then I was led through a maze of doors and hallways until we reached B-block.

Fortunately, this was the least traumatizing part of the experience.  Everyone in B-block turned out to be fairly decent folk as far as being able to get along with each other.  No overt cattiness, no snobs, and no hostility.  At least in general.  I would later learn that there were a few tensions brewing beneath the surface, but the explosions were thankfully kept to a minimum.

Once the knots in my stomach managed to loosen somewhat, I began to settle in for what I knew was going to be a longer haul than last time.  Glenda had wiped out nearly all of her savings to bail me out last time; this time the amount was just too much for anyone to even dream of paying for me.  Knowing this, I realized that since I was essentially stuck, I would simply have to accept my fate and do my best not to worry about things on the outside.

I soon found out that while my sisters could not bail me out, they had not abandoned me.  They managed to pool their resources so that my rent and power bill could be paid up.  And not only was Katie keeping Alex for me, she was managing to teach him a few things.  She also attempted to sell my car on my behalf in order to raise at least part of the bail.  She visited me at least every other Sunday and kept me updated as best she could.

Also, as you all well know, Jaime and Shawn came to my emotional rescue.  They kept my spirits up with a steady stream of letters and cards.  Shawn concentrated on making sure I knew he cared and encouraging me not to lose hope.  Jaime concentrated on distracting me from my worries by sending me ideas for Circle Sky, which helped tremendously!  Working on CS saved me from constant depression.  (More on that later. )  Jaime helped even more by visiting me on Thursdays when she could.  She and Shawn also managed to send me a few dollars when they could spare them so that I could buy basic necessities such as soap, shampoo, writing pads, postage stamps, and snacks.

Having the support of my family (even if it was only two of my sisters--nobody else in my family seemed to care) and my best friends helped me survive.  Jail is not the best place to build one's self-esteem.  It's probably one of the best places to kill it in the blink of an eye.

Ok, here's a vocab list for ya:

Books--your money account.  If you received money from anyone, it was placed "on your books."
Bunkie--cellmate.
Chow--mealtime.  You only get breakfast and dinner, no lunch unless you're pregnant.  Hence the need for commisary (see next term ).
Commisary--the collective term for the necessities I just mentioned.
Contraband--anything that you are not supposed to have in your possession or anything that is being used for something other than its original intended purpose.  See examples in next list.
Day room--the place where all the cool chicks (i.e., inmates) hang out.  It's where you eat chow, watch TV, make phone calls, etc.
Head count--occurs twice daily at 6:45 AM/PM.  A guard checks your ID bracelet and confirms that yep, you're there, where else would ya be?  lol
Inspection--a guard walks through each cell and checks for cleanliness and general rule-following vs. rule-breaking.  Not to be confused with shakedown.
Lockdown (1)--solitary confinement.  If you commit a major no-no, you are either confined to your cell or taken to a holding cell, depending on the severity of the no-no.

(Note:  The girl in the holding cell I mentioned earlier had been put in lockdown apparently for medical reasons, both valid and invalid--she had fallen and twisted her ankle, but the fainting spells were determined to be a cry for attention.  Apparently she had mental issues.)

Lockdown (2)--bedtime.  Doesn't mean you absolutely have to go to sleep; all they require is that you are in your cell and the door is locked by 11:30 PM.
Med call--if you get a prescription, you receive your dose twice a day, once in the morning and once near bedtime.
Shakedown--a group of guards tear through the cells, unmaking beds and dumping out the contents of your tote bag to make sure you have no contraband.  Then they leave you to clean up.
Yard call--a guard takes the group out to the exercise yard for about an hour or so, depending on behavior.  Options:  walk in circles, sit, lie down on the ground.

And now, to illustrate just how insane jail is, here is a list of items they consider to be contraband:

Hair ties.  Inmates make them out of socks, sleeve cuffs, underwear elastic, or bits of string.  Why people are not allowed to put their hair in ponytails is beyond me.  What can you possibly hide in your hair if everything gets taken away from you when you are booked and during shakedowns?  I know, I know, there are some clever bitches out there, but I'm not that devious.

Commisary bags.  If anything other than commisary items are stored in bags, you lose the bag and possibly the stuff in it.

Boxes, food wrappers/bags, or soda bottles.  I found out that a cracker box cannot be used to store letters.  So much for saving wear and tear on manila envelopes.

Extra pencils.  You are only allowed a maximum of three.

Pens.  They can be torn apart and used to make tattoos.

Excessive paper.  Thank God I got out of there when I did, or I might have had a serious problem.  Could you imagine me in lockdown b/c I assaulted some poor guard for trying to throw away my CS scenes and notes?  lol

Food saved from chow as opposed to commisary food.  Why the hell that makes a difference I have NO clue.  You are allowed to have a cup, a bowl, and a plastic spoon.  Why should it matter what you store in your bowl?  It's not like any chow food lasts longer than a day anyway.  Duh.

Extra rolls of toilet paper.  Again, this made absolutely no sense to me, considering toilet paper is offered as a commisary item!

Whew!  See what I had to deal with?  It's no wonder my stomach hurt constantly the whole time I was incarcerated.  No matter how calm I got from working on CS, I still had to worry whether some little something I unwittingly did might land me in trouble.

And then there were the few skirmishes that took place.  Luckily, the key word is FEW.  But when they happened, they were scary nonetheless.  My first bunkie turned out to be an instigator.  She lied to one inmate, saying she'd order some candy on commisary for her, but didn't do it.  When the orders came in and the inmate found out, she was furious.  I was so scared that she might jump me simply b/c I was the girl's bunkie.  Thankfully she got over it.  However, my bunkie then decided to be mean and PEE in another girl's hair conditioner!   That girl slammed her fist into a wall to avoid hitting her.  Wow.  After that, I lost that bunkie--she got taken to lockdown, then placed in A-block afterward.

The only other physical incident occurred when two inmates got into a shouting match which led to one punching the other.  They were separated; one was locked down in her own cell while the other was moved to A-block.  I have no clue about any of the details of the fight; I did the very wise thing and did not leave my cell until I was absolutely sure it was all over.

Other than that, life in jail was a long string of days set apart by events such as laundry, visitation, bible studies, church, razor and clipper time, and whichever TV show held the most interest for the most people.

TV privileges were, for the most part, very well maintained.  A system had been developed which most people agreed upon.  On a rotating basis, each inmate received a TV day.  If it was your TV day, you were required to clean the day room--wipe the tables, sweep, and mop.  In exchange for that bit of labor, you were in control of the TV for the entire day.  You were allowed to watch any show you wanted, and anyone else who wished to see a particular show had to check with you first.  There were usually majority votes on popular shows, but you still had the final say.  I was impressed with the level of agreement on most days.  Most of the inmates had similar tastes.  As for myself, personally, I usually allowed the rest of them to majority-vote and only asked for one show if my day happened to be a Thursday. ( at Jaime)  Thanks to that, I was able to watch Smallville's final two episodes of the season.  Yay!  Other than that, I usually stayed in my cell and slept, wrote, or read.

That's how I spent the majority of my time, actually.  I usually slept from 9 or 10 AM until 4 or 5 PM, then wrote or read until lockdown, sometimes until after lockdown.  One time until the next morning head count!  lol  One night I got caffeine in my system and was so wired I wrote all night long!  That was fun!   But boy did I pay for it the next day.  lol

I bet you're all wondering how the hell I finally got out, considering I did not sell my car or have any income over $35 the whole time I was in there.  Believe it or not, PAM signed a release order!  Nope, she didn't suddenly bump her head and develop amnesia.  She decided to have them let me go b/c she figured out that DUH, as long as I was in jail, I was not gainfully employed anywhere, therefore I had no income, therefore SHE got no child support payments AT ALL.  Wow.  It took her a month and a half to figure that out.  Gee, thanks Pam.  Don't worry about the fact that I could have lost my home, maybe even my other son.   Oh yeah, and thanks for causing me to lose my driver's license, therefore making it twice as hard to find a job and keep it.  Grr.

Well, I really shouldn't waste the energy bitching (although I already have, ha ha).  I have more important things to worry about now, like busting my ass to get a job no matter how I get there.  And once again, Jaime has come through for me.  She took me job hunting Friday along with doing some herself.  We went all over Ft. Oglethorpe and picked up gobs of applications.  (I still have to fill mine out, but hey, dammit, I've been celebrating my freedom!  lol)  I'm hoping Katie or Glenda will be able to take me back tomorrow to turn them all in, or as many as possible.  If not, there's always the bus.  I do have a little money left over from my time in the hole--$25.03 to be exact.  lol  I'll have to use $15 of it to put time on my phone, but then I could use a couple of bucks to finish up my job hunt if I have to.  As long as I can find a babysitter.   Well, maybe the bus won't work after all.  I'd pretty much have to ask Glenda or Katie anyway.  Oh well.

Damn!  This has got to be one of the longest, if not THE longest, blog I have done since posting one of the stories!  lol  Speaking of which, I was going to let you guys in on some CS progress, but geez.  I've already spent way too long on this thing.  Guess I'll have to save that for another time.  Till then, I just want to say thanks to those of you who sent encouraging comments and I hope everyone will wish me luck b/c I really REALLY need it!  Ok, I gotta get outta here before Jaime's laptop dies.  I'll let her explain that.  BFN!