Dude, it's still BAD. Just because they have some access to TV doesn't make it a country club.
I know it is a minor thing, but I was appalled beyond the speaking of it, over the food in the big house. It was clear that a lot of the fellows who signed up for the program I worked were just checking the boxes in their jackets to raise their parole status, etc. But others were there because they got special food.
I guess the system didn't want the outsiders to see what the inmates ate, because we didn't ask for anything different from the residents.
When generic Wonderbread and toxic cheese doodles is haute cuisine, it is little wonder that people get violent.
Another thing is the noise. I was nowhere near the actual blocks, and the sounds were overwhelming. Living in that decibel level all the time...I'd go screaming for sure.
The whole 'three hots and a cot' fantasy about prison. It's been said already...spoken only by anyone who doesn't know what it is really like.
The universe just needs to chill the fuck out. I am sorry that you all are going through the random shit life has decided to fling your way. Those that want/need ~ma have got it, and those that want hugs can have 'em too. Tep, I'll just wave from across the room.
Nervous for tomorrow. Uncle T has his appointment at Hopkins at 9 am. I'm scared that they're going to tell us he really does have only 6-12 months. Fuck cancer.
I hope it's better news, Maria.
Thanks, Erin and Ginger. I just don't want to even comprehend the worst case scenario right now.
Ginger, thank you for your rational and timely updates re: the nuclear plant situation in Japan. I'm not against nuclear power by any stretch, but having lived through Three Mile Island and been scared to bits doesn't always make for a rational response.
I remember working a job where I crammed forty hours of work into three days; I'd spend the first three days of my "weekend" in bed. And the fourth wasn't quite as enjoyable as one might have hoped.
I worked that kind of schedule in a residential program for two years. Only time I ever quit a job with no other job to go to. Well, except for when I fled Wal-Mart. Both times, sanity trumped income.
Crashing to announce important Nilly news: please check Beep Me.
Pi baby! Congratulations Nilly! (And Nilly-related personages.)
This means I have to go to the hospital and take pictures of the new born ASAP for y'all, right?
(Who can study after such news?)
Yes, this is what it means, Shir!
