"Memories aren't rags that come clean with enough wringing."—Dean Koonty, Frankenstein, Lost Souls
Howdy! I hope you all are well and happy.
So, I'm laying in bed and it's a little before "lockdown" (roughly 9:15 P.M.) on the day before Thanksgiving. We'll have the usual holiday meal tomorrow and a box lunch for dinner.
I used to love Thanksgiving. After Halloween, it's probably my favorite holiday. I"m very old-fashioned, so no matter what, I would cook a holiday meal (in the real world). I like it because it's all about just eating a good meal and enjoying yourself. I remember my early T-givings when my mom was alive, and I would always call her and ask some question about cooking the meal. God, I was such a Momma's Boy. I sure do miss that old woman. I'm just glad that she died before all this prison mess.
I'll share a certain game I like to play with myself when I'm in a particular mood: I say a little prayer (to music gods (jokingly)), and I turn on my MP3 player to shuffle and see what comes up. I often do this in the "common area" in the unit—the triangular area above where the TVs are and tables, and such. Then, I'll chair dance. I sit in my chair in my Usual Spot (capitalized because everyone who's anyone has a "usual spot" to put their chair and watch TV) and dance to myself along with the music. Mainly in my mind, but you can tell I'm moving along to the music.
I love to dance. This is one of the places that I haven't stood and actually danced at some point. Even at backwater El Reno. I even got called to the CO's office about it there.
Happy Thanksgiving! Gobble! Gobble!
OH MY GOD. I had the most bizarre conversation tonight. One guy even said: "This sound like a reality show!"
So. There's this new young guy that came into our unit. He's 27. He's absolutely beautiful. I hate talking about my age ('cause I'm old!), but I'm old enough to be this guy's dad (gag).
Anyway, so he's in my cell with his new buddy, a "homeboy" who's also from Virginia (like he is), a mixed black/Latino guy who's a little older, but "lumpy" attractive. They were both here in my cell, and the Blatino guy was telling The Kid that it was obvious that I was in love with him. The Kid was skeptical, and I told him that, "Of course I'm in love with you. Everyone knows it." I told him about the jealous hag, "Di-Di", who always makes comments about him and me.
"But," I said, "I really love Travis." Travis, who is only five years older than The Kid and the love of my life (for now).
At some point, I said, "I cannot believe we're having this conversation." I really couldn't. This is my freaking life.
Yes, I definitely love The Kid. He is absolutely beautiful. But Travis is Husband #1 for now. I really just couldn't believe that this conversation took place at all. In prison.
The rest of that weekend really sucked. From 9:30 A.M. on Saturday until Monday after lunch, we were locked down—for the most part in our cells and rarely in the common area of our unit. They even canceled outside visits for Saturday.
There were various rumors for this, according to inmate.com, from various with the perimeter fence, to being short-staffed, to the cameras being out. The final reason I heard is that there was a computer glitch so that the CO's radios wouldn't send out their normal GPS signal. So, if something happened to a CO, they couldn't trace their location via GPS. I was told that this affected many prisons, including the whole mid-Atlantic region and several others. It was a crappy way to spend Thanksgiving weekend.
Until next time, I wish you...
Love + blessings,
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