The Reality of Time

As I drove home from work today, I thought how much I looked forward to my G.A. meeting this evening and my weekend days ahead. While I'll spend much of the time studying, they will be slower days without feeling as rushed. This sense of "time" is so different than how it felt when I was incarcerated.

Of course there were weekdays and weekends, and there were days, weeks, months, etc. It is just that it all blended in to each other. Living it felt forever and looking back felt like it was no time at all. Now, a day feels like a day, and a week feels like a week. The idea of TGIF works because a weekend truly feels like a weekend.

Last night I had the honor of being able to talk with one of you, a reader of this blog, who is fearing that she may have to face this similar path I've gone down. It's so overwhelming to face it all - all those unknowns - and feel capable of getting through it okay. It comes right back to this issue of time. It's all just one day at a time. If we look at everything that is or may occur, it's a never ending tunnel of time and possibilities and fears. So, keep your focus on today and what you can do just for today. Tomorrow, you will do the same.

It may feel like forever, but for right now, enjoy your Fridays. Enjoy your weekends and your Tuesdays and your September and everything. Don't put yourself into your own prison prior to actually being put in one physically. Whether we have to go to prison or not will be decided at some point down the road, but for now, we have days to live.

Once we are incarcerated, time may have no real meaning. I think that's why we talk things like, "two days and a wake up," or say we are leaving in a month even though 50 days may separate us from when we leave (I.e. It's sept.1 but they leave oct. 24... They would say a month...). Time has no real meaning until you look back.

Here, in the outside world, time has meaning. So make the best of it. Make time for yourself and those you care about. I love that I can sense time in my life once again.

Personal Space

I've recently noticed another change that I don't know to be permanent or not. While I'm still my mostly extroverted self, I actively choose to be more in my own space these days. I like to study alone. I enjoy sitting away from classmates.  I don't even fret about turning my phone off for hours while I'm in school.

Three years ago, when I was started my education program, it took me about two weeks to reach out to five other classmates and start a weekly study group. We would share thoughts on readings, discuss assignments, and support one another through our core courses. 

Now, I find a cubicle on the quiet side of the library, ensuring that no one is right next to me, and quietly I work through my readings and assignments. I have no problem working with groups, yet have no interest in forming any in addition to project groups already set up in classes. I like my independence and enjoy the space it provides me from others.

I can only imagine this must be a direct result of coming out of the overcrowded reality of Carswell. Tonight in class, nearly everyone say on the right side of the classroom. I don't know why. I sat on the left side. I spread my stuff out. I put my bag on the chair next to mine. I didn't use most of it, but I had an entire row to myself. 

I'm not entirely anti-social. A classmate sat in front of me and behind me. We shared comments now and then. I did notice, we all were a bit less distracted by others, though. We also were known by name quicker by our professor. 

I used to want to feel accepted and "part of." Now, I really don't care. There are certainly people I could see being friendly with - which could happen in due time. I don't need it, though. I have amazing people in my life. I'm happy being colleagues with folks. We don't all need to be best friends. 

I am a little surprised though. It is a change of character of sorts. Prison certainly changes us in unexpected ways!

Analytics

Today I received a text from Cache with a screen picture from this blog. She texted, "I guess I'm 59,000..." Wow, 59,000 hits. It's amazing that somehow she happened to be the person that saw the number roll to that even 0-0-0. I remember before I left for Carswell, Cache and I couldn't believe that this site neared 5,000 hits; not it's close to 60,000 a year later.

I want to thank all of you who are daily or frequent readers who for whatever reason, choose to follow this blog and my daily life. It started, honestly, with friends, but through emails and comments I've made new friends and community with people from all over the U.S. and the World. I know that some of you discover this blog through prisontalk, others through loved ones at Carswell, I'm not sure how others have come across it, but I'm glad you've gotten something out of it and have stuck around.

Through google, I am able to see my analytics/statistics on who is reading this blog. Most of you are in the United States, but certainly not all. There are readers from throughout Europe, Russia, Ukraine, Canada, South America, and many other places. Lately, readership in New Zealand has gone up significantly.

Certain blogs also receive much higher readership than others. Some of my posts receive about 25-40 hits, while the average post receives about 60-80 hits. A rare post will receive over 100 hits, with some over 200 and a really rare one (like the first) with over 1,000 hits. I'm a statistics person, so I find all of this fascinating.

On the average day, this blog receives between 150-200 hits. I think that's pretty good for a blog about a random woman going to prison. I'm glad that so many people find something of interest within these posts. 

I write because I love writing, but I write this blog because of all of you and all the people I hope it can help with information, a laugh, empathy, compassion, and community. I am so grateful for every single person who chooses to read even one post on this blog and who tries to do something positive with what they read. 

Thank you all for getting me to 59,000. I do not see that number lightly. You all are part of the community that has supported me through the unknowns of my past year and I will never forget.

💜💜💜

DF Hazel

A Blog and a Vlog

It's kinda strange having a semi-normal life aside from the life that I'm still acclimating away from. I now work, attend classes, have a keychain full of keys, bring home a paycheck (first one soon!), eat Sushi out with friends, take Superdog on walks, workout in my living room, and I have even joined Sporty in starting a vlog. For those of you new to the concept of vlogging, it is kind of like blogging, only with a video camera and uploaded to YouTube. Videos tend to be shorter than 10 minutes in length (unless you are super famous), and just follow your life (unless you have a theme like cooking, comedy, kids, etc... just like blogs). T.S. has been into vlogging for several years and we are joining into it for a little bit of fun and stress relief. When I was young I wanted to be a film maker, now I guess my thoughts are part of the documentary called life documented on YouTube.

Sporty and I just started our YouTube channel and it's we haven't really explored much about our lives yet. We figure that things about ourselves will naturally surface over the course of time, if we decide to keep the vlog going. It's kind of like when you make new friends. You do not announce all your secrets and reveal your past on the first day and in the first 10 minutes (the length of our first video), but rather over time, as things naturally progress that way.

For me, I do not personally feel as if I have anything to hide. I do want to respect the friends and community of T.S. and Sporty who may watch the vlog who do not know my story - as they do not need anyone to judge them for my past or my story. It's always important to keep a balance of ensuring we try to protect those around us - even when we feel as if we no longer need to protect ourselves.

I guess for at least a while, I will be a blogger and a vlogger... as well as a student, a worker bee, a woman on federal supervision, and many other things. I'm glad I have many identities in this world. I have many positive things to offset the negative and I am able to keep my focus on all the good in my life. I am enjoying this new activity called vlogging. I won't claim to be all that photogenic in the lens, but I certainly have a lot of stories to share with the many potential YouTube viewers!

Now, if I could only get myself to start writing that book...

You'd Do That For Me?

I guess prison really did change me. Before I went, I still had fear of authority. Before I went, I would reluctantly walk up to a professor and insecurely tell them my thoughts hoping they'd think them worthy. Before I went, I feared judgement and belonging and looking over my shoulder and complications and enemies and lies and the truth and losing everything and well... I guess I just was full of fear. 

Maybe the biggest change in me is my lack of fear. Today, I do not fear authority. I walked right up to the director of my academic program, talked access to research with him, and he said, "I'm going to look into that for you." I said, "you'd do that for me?" (All that time in prison, I forgot that people in authority roles really do go out of their ways to help others), and I think I made a good collegial relationship with a very important colleague.

Then, I went directly to a female faculty's office that I want to be on my thesis committee, introduced myself, and we are having coffee together next week. I suppose that's how it's all supposed to happen. I feel as if I'm exuding a confidence I never had in the past - even though I know less about the exact subject matter than in the past, I know how to be a researcher and an academic.

I know where I belong. I am excited to know that the research I may be doing could potentially help many women involved in the federal justice system. Wouldn't it be something if all this experience turned out to help me change the lives of accused and/or convicted female offenders? 

I wish I could share some of this happiness and what is happening with my friends back at Carswell. I wonder how they are all doing. Some may have successfully been transferred by now. Others may still be fighting the system. I wonder who is sick and who is getting out. I pray Taz is well. I imagine Lola and Jin are well at the camp. Is it possible that one of Appeals appeals have won? How much longer does Glitter have? Is Nurse and Cali back in California now? Has Mama seen and/or talked to her boys? Did Curls find a new job? Did they figure out what was wrong with Taz? Has my bunky finally been released? So many women cross my mind. I may not be allowed to reach out to them, but that does not mean I forget.

If I could, I'd let them know that I'm doing what I can to make a difference - one day at a time. It's going to take me years for the degree, but my research will hopefully be useful and help women in the future. All I have right now are my prayers. I'll be doing that for you! 

Reading the Research

I'm under an unbelievable crunch this week. In just three short days, I need to turn in my thesis topic, even though I just started my grad program 1 1/2 wks ago. I'm on a bit of an accelerated plan in order to attempt official entry into the jc doctorate program through their applications due this winter. My feminist theory class has me doing my thesis proposal as my paper for her course this semester. Nothing like taking the bull by the horns immediately.

In order to whiddle my many interests down to a research topic, I have been reading relevant existing research and searching available data archives. For the thesis, my goal is to answer my research question utilizing secondary data (or data that already exists for a different purpose) so that I can build upon it with my own research once I am in the multiple year doctoral program. This thesis' goal is to prove I can write, properly utilize research methods, interprets results appropriately, understand limitations, build an appropriate literature review, determine conclusions, and offer avenues for further studies. 

I've been playing with many ideas, but think I'm leaning toward a theory that focuses on early victimization of females and it's possible ties to future criminal activity. I'm specifically looking at connecting it to women and white collar crimes. From what I can tell, there has not been much research done connecting the theory to white collar crimes. I need to figure out, though, if I could somehow review PSI/PSR data in order to find the early victimization data to connect with the women convicted of the big three white collar crimes (embezzlement, fraud, forgery).

My hope is that after the thesis, I can take this all a step further and see if an addiction link is prevalent for white collar female offenders who were victimized and if that addiction preceded their white collar crime.

As I've been researching articles to find similar and informative studies, I've come across some interesting research. One actually quite bothered me as it said that white collar offenses were an effect of being in high standing and refusing to reach out for help - yet so many I know that committed these types of crimes had addictions, were of average standing in their communities, and were to the point of being physically/emotionally/ mentally unable to ask for help. That's a really different thing. So many studies have been done solely on men, and most not on people struggling with addiction. I hope to help fill in that gap.

From what I could initially find, there's only one large study that looked directly at the impact of gambling on white collar crime (all males). The study concluded that gambling increases in cities had no effect on white collar crimes. It's a fairly old study and perhaps it would be worthwhile to replicate it a decade or more later (now). There's a lot of articles about increases in crimes related to drug addiction.

I found only one journal article specific to women and white collar crime. The researchers found that women committed the crimes to feed their family and/or take care of loved ones. Well, those results certainly wouldn't fit most the white collar offenders I knew in Carswell. In fact, most the white collar offenders I knew, actually had no mens rea (criminal intent) at all when offending. They were the "fall gals" for bigger fish, addicted to drugs/alcohol/men/gambling, and/or abused, etc. Sure, there were certainly the desperate, there were also the intentional forgers and the greedy, but they were the rare ones. We all could tell who they were and usually they planned to walk out and go right back to their not so lawful ways. They are career criminals, like so many others. 

I'm curious about the others though. Those who never really saw themselves as making an active choice to commit a crime. Those who at some point lost the ability to make rational decisions or to be the intelligent, capable person they exude themselves to be to the world. If we can find out some insights into why they commit crime, then maybe we can find the alternatives we need for them from the same prisons as those that chose lives of crime.

Maybe my research can be a step in that direction.

The Positive Energy of Others

Yesterday, a friend from where I used to live came to visit. She arrived in town just prior to the Friday night GA meeting. That's okay, though, because that's how we met - sitting across the table at a GA meeting. It was her that I always looked to when people said to find people within the rooms who represent what you want your recovery to look like. She was happy, attractive, married, intelligent, kind, forgiving, and just emitted off this positive energy that made her someone approachable to all. I was so devastated at the time - but down the road, I wanted my life to look like hers.

We quickly became friends and along the way she assisted me with some of my step work as well as always just been a good person that always brought a smile to my face. Even though longish periods of time may pass when we do not talk, we are always there for each other, like extended family who genuinely care. 

Sporty and she feel very much the same way. So we were immensely pleased that she chose to come out and visit for a night. It started with the meeting, then Thai food, then sitting on the couch for hours catching up, then laughing at YouTube videos, then sleep. This morning we walked to a cafe and sat over beverages and a light snack and talked for a couple more hours until she had to goon the many hour trip back home.

I told her that the 20 or so hours she was here will leave behind an energy that will carry with me for quite a while. She still is that person. Life is not perfect for her. It never has been as it is not for any of us. She is just one of those positive spirits in this world that just feels great to be around. Today, I may not be everything she was or is when I sit at a GA table, but I know that I am one of those positive voices. I learned a lot of it from her. It was a wonderful visit and a quick one and I'm so very happy she came!

"I Want to Investigate Money Crimes"

It was a really, really long day. I'm not complaining. I wouldn't change a thing. I'm happy and have so much to be grateful for. In fact, I actually received actual money today - the excess of a small grant - awarded to me by my school. Problem is, and isn't there always one, I have not heard back from my P.O. (he doesn't call, he doesn't write - imagine whiney mother referring to child) and do not know the protocol on my financial aid. I do not want to put funds toward bills or rent if I have a legal responsibility in a different direction. I do not think it's technically "income," but I know that I needed his permission to begin with and I don't want to make incorrect assumptions... We knows what they say about people who ASSuME things... Ass out of U and Me... In this case just me and the possibility of getting a violation. I'll try calling my PO again tomorrow.

I imagine my finances are being scrutinized much stronger than someone with say a drug crime. For them, it's their blood and urine that's scrutinized. Speaking of scrutinized finances, I found myself engaged in a funny conversation today. I was talking with a fellow student who is freshly out of undergrad and excited to be considering a career in intelligence. I asked where his interests lie and he said that he's specifically interested in money based crimes - white collar offenses. I wonder if my cheeks turned bright red at that moment. If they did, he didn't show it. He then talked about how DEA also sounds exciting. Oy veh. He's a nice guy. I'm sure there may be a time where telling my story could be appropriate, I don't know. 

I kind of want to do a "I can shatter all your stereotypes" workshop for all these folks. I keep hearing things like - Feds don't matter - only 10% of cases go there. Women don't matter because they commit far less crime, and far less violent crime. Discretion is bad in the criminal process (yet discretion allowed me substantial downward departure and I never went through a true arrest). Etc. and... It's only been a week so far!!!!

Best advice I've learned so far - honesty and being humble are your best ways to avoid a ticket or arrest from a police officer. Lies/tears/making up a story is the fastest way to find your way in real trouble. When I told that officer a couple weeks ago that I'm on federal supervision and all about my car just getting back to me, etc., he knew that I was being honest (people don't make up prison!) and it turns out, that helped me avoid a ticket!

In time, I'd like to try and reach out to others who sought degrees in criminal justice grad programs after imprisonment and see how they took to certain concepts. There's got to be a bunch of us out there!

When it All Fits Together

Today was a really long day. Superdog had me awake before 8am and I was trying to sleep in because I knew my day was going to do late. No luck. Since I was up anyway, I should thank Superdog, because I got in a great morning workout. Then I spent several hours reading article for classes and ensuring I would be ready for whatever was to come my way.

I had to once again stop at HR on my way onto campus. This time, they needed my I-9 form (the official federal employment homeland security form) filled out. Guess they forgot about that yesterday. They asked me to bring in my license and either my ss card or my passport - uh oh...

My passport was turned in one week prior to my sentencing (after I was allowed to travel to South Africa). My ss card and birth certificate were NEVER returned to me (after all the work Survivor, my mom, and Sporty did to get them to me in Carswell). They never made it off my counselor's desk after I saw the envelope there weeks before my leaving. As I exited the facility I asked for the documents, but it was either the docs or my freedom. I chose freedom. All that work to get the documents and I didn't need them because I happened to have a valid drivers license on file. The things no one tells you. So, my ss card and official birth certificate probably remain in a pile on that same desk. I wonder whose folder they will accidentally be put in. Perhaps someone who really is 5'2" and African American...

Anyway, luckily, before turning in my passport, I took pictures of every page that had info, visas, or stamps. I'm nostalgic like that. So, I asked if I could just bring in a photocopy of my passport.  Printed the picture of my info page and met the requirements even though I lacked the documents in hand. I have no idea what I would've done to get a document quickly in order for my hire to finally go through. Always more hoops!!

My first class today was on research methods. I feel like I've now done my schooling backwards. I was conducting research and now I'm in basic level methods courses because I'm starting at the masters level, but I'm sure I'll learn a lot and gain some new foundational understanding within the field of criminal justice. Next semester is the statistics side of all this and I'm geeked to be working in numbers and data again.

Three hours later, one class ended and I was walking into my next class on feminist criminology. I already know I'm going to really enjoy this class. Since I'm really interested in issues around women and incarceration/women and crime, etc - this class will help me with usable theory. Truth is that there's no getting around the fact that makes happen to commit more crimes and more violent crimes than women. However, there's very little research available on the experiences of women involved in the system. I have so many questions floating in my head for potential topics. For this class, my professor expects me to write my thesis proposal by December... And use it to show that I'm ready for the phd program as I apply in January for next year.

It felt great in today's courses. I felt right at home and among colleagues - especially in the feminist criminology course which is all phd students except for myself. I was allowed to engage in discourse that reminded me why I love academia and want to be a researcher and a professor. I asked appropriate questions and participated in group discussion. I felt connected and for a couple moments, I forgot that I was just in prison and that I had been kicked out of this university less than a year ago. I just felt a part of- not different.

It's really starting to click and I'm feeling good about this direction. I wish I could share all this with my friends back at Carswell. I miss so many of them and hate that communication is prohibited. They need to know that life really is possible after release... Tell your loved ones, okay? Please tell them.

6,000 Steps in an Hour

I'm still wearing my fitbit flex. I do not always get to 10,000 steps, but I try. Today, though, was a running errands around campus day, which meant a lot of steps! I must admit, I also walked to the wrong building entirely on the wrong side of the quite large campus as well. Oops. 

I successfully turned in paperwork to payroll, human resources, and the parking office. This means I will receive a direct deposit of my payroll. Human resources can run yet ANOTHER background check on me since I'm moving into a graduate assistant role (not just volunteering). I successfully purchased a graduate assistant parking permit for campus. I also checked out two more books for my classes at the business library.

I think the human resources experience was the most interesting. Instead of just dropping off my authorization for my background check, I asked if I could speak with the woman conducting the check. Instead of my going to her, she came up to the desk, so my conversation was public and two other ladies could hear everything. Taking the "I have nothing to be ashamed of" approach, I said that I have a felony and asked how the procedure would go. She explained it and was very kind. I said something like, "honesty is always the best policy," and all three of them agreed, nodding and sming at me. I may be a felon, but one look at me, and I'm so non- threatening. It left me thinking about felon stereotypes and the felon identity. Am I an "acceptable" felon when some others are not - simply because I don't fit into stereotypes? Does that help me move forward quicker. Do I have privilege of some sort over other felons? 

Is it gender? Race? My baby face? 

If someone asked you to close your eyes and imagine a felon, who would you describe? Does OITNB change people's perceptions of felons?

I've become very curious. Perhaps a research topic is there for me to flush out out...

Tomorrow, instead of walking so much, I have six hours of classes. Something tells me that I may think back to my long walks of today and continue to think about felon identity. Both classes require research papers. I think all that walking today helped me clear my mind enough to be ready for a possible paper topic.

Labor Day

So how does a graduate student spend Labor Day? At the library of course! The campus library was open for five hours today, which allowed me enough time to get lost among the stacks and find just two of the books I need for the semester. I ordered a couple from other libraries and will have to either rent or buy the rest. The textbook industry is big bussiness... Over $100 per book and a new edition every other year!

T.S. had to watch a 1940's film noire classic from the video collection at the library, so I had the rare privilege of being able to be there with her without being an adult "embarrassment" to a teenage undergrad. Ha. It actually turned out to be a nice afternoon. Pb&j sandwiches and all.

I start "officially" working this week. In a couple weeks, a real paycheck will be deposited into my account. 10% of my gross pay will start being paid toward my restitution. I will finally be on my path toward getting off supervised release. I feel as if I've been in a waiting pattern for the last three months, just holding onto HOPE and being allowed to circle the skies praying not to run out of fuel or crash. Now, I've finally landed and I'm able to start the real journey of life after prison.

I don't mind that I spent Labor Day working on school, because I was working and I'm so grateful to have all that I do right now!

Family Picnic

Tomorrow is the annual picnic for my mothers side of the family. Growing up, it meant horseshoes, softball, volleyball, grilled hotdogs and burgers, tons of side dishes and people that I had no idea who they were or how they were related. I was pretty much the baby of the family for a very long time, so everyone knew me, loved to squeeze my cheeks (ouch!), and generally were kind for a few words before continuing their adult conversation with others. It didn't matter, though, I always loved the family picnic.

When I moved back to where I grew up, after spending over a decade away falling into all the devastation of addiction and chaos, I took on an important role. My grandma had always been a main organizer of the family picnic, (along with my aunt) but my gandma's recent onset of Alzheimer's had started to make things like organizing large events difficult and my aunt was having a difficult go with things at the time, so, as I was trying to rebuild my life while living in my parents' second bedroom, I also planned the annual Labor Day weekend family picnic. Luckily, Sporty assisted by finding some great kid activities - like a bouncy house (lots of kids now that the next generation has come along) and sports equipment. It was a success, and for the next several years, I continued to organize our family picnic.

Of course, I had to release the reigns once I left to go to school, although, I did visit and attend the picnic. Last year, I'm not sure if there was a picnic. I never really heard about one. I was in Texas, so if there was one, I didn't respond to the email invitation.

A couple weeks ago, I received an email inviting me over to a cousin's house for a more casual setting for the family picnic. It had always been at a wooded area - often on a lot of land or a forest preserve- so not sure how being in the backyard of a home in a neighborhood will go, but I'm just grateful that someone new took on the leadership and is continuing this long family tradition. My mother attended family picnics when she was a little girl. This goes way, way back.

Initially, I'd hoped to ask to go home for this weekend, and possibly attend the family picnic. Federal supervision requires a minimum of two weeks written request and I had to wait 60 days until I could request (September 1 is my 60 days... Tomorrow!) So, for two reasons, I could not request this weekend. It makes me sad that my grandma's Alzheimer's is too far advanced now for her to go to any social functions outside her assisted living community. At least my parents will be there - our side of the family will represent.

I'm not sure I would've found my niche at the family picnic. I often find that I just have so little in common with many members of my family. I suppose recent experiences may make me a bit more interesting to talk with - especially with the popularity of OITNB - but it's the one subject my mom and step-dad would get incredibly angry seeing me talking about - prison! My switch to crim justice might bring on good conversation, but once again, it could lead back to that topic my folks scowl at me for (not that I care really if they scowl at me... But just saying). So, then I just listen to everyone talk about their lives. Their houses, kids, art, cars, careers, vacations, etc and then I wonder, "I'm related to all these folks how?" 

Well, at least they don't squeeze my cheeks anymore, that has fallen on the now much younger kids. While horseshoes may not be part of every family picnic anymore, it may not be such a bad thing. One year, when I was about 9 years old, my horseshoe hit my sister's ankle and put her on crutches. She was not very happy with me.

Plus, these days, I define my family much broader than I did when I was young. I do not solely define family by blood... but I still include them as well...

Like, Really?

Sometimes when you are living a reality, you forget how strange it may appear to people outside that reality or even how odd it initially appeared to you when you first saw the behavior until it became normal to you as well. Let's consider fads like wearing leg warmers, crocs, even women working outside the home. 

In prison, there are many of those moments - they have softball teams here? People play pool in the rec? There's a nicely paved outdoor walking path? They have like 100 aerobic videos and only three television we can use to watch them on? If I want to keep Kosher, I better love sardines? A salad bar consists of iceberg lettuce? My 7am call out to see a doctor may result in my seeing the doctor at 3:30pm? I'm in a medical facility and have bad legs, but I have to stand for two hours twice a day to get my pain medications? I am not allowed to touch another inmates nor communicate with them post incarceration, but I can take a amateur picture with them in front of a professional backdrop that I can keep forever?

It's the last one that came up today. We have out of town guests and we were talking a little about my experiences down in Texas. Somehow the subject of pictures came up, so I decided to share the pictures I have of me with fellow inmate friends. The first thing our company said was, "they had a backdrop?!?!?" She was so shocked! Of course this surprised her. She hasn't seen it on Orange is the new Black yet...

I sometimes think that if they actually showed true reality on OITNB, people would say it was too made up. That's the thing about reality. It's often stranger than fiction. OITNB is loosely based on Kerman's experience, but by this point, loosely is an understatement. She was at a camp, OITNB is an FCI (closer to was Carswell is like). That's okay though, OITNB's TV show's intentions is to entertain, and that it does. 

The truth is that very little in prison is entertaining except those moments when the sarcastic part of you can look around and go, "really?!?!" I still laugh at some of the inconsistencies and insanity. One thing that made me laugh was our niece today, reminding me that it's not quite expected that at prison, we would be allowed to purchase tickets to take pics with our fellow felon friends in front of a fancy backdrop.

Blogging

I need to be honest. I almost didn't blog today. I just wasn't sure what to write about. There's the topic of home confinement and expenses that I'm working on from a reader that asked a question, but with the drama of school this week, I didn't finish preparing it yet (sorry!!). So, that one is coming very soon, albeit quite late.

It's like I feel incredibly busy, yet barely busy at the same time. Perhaps it's just my head that's full on information right now. My task list is incredibly long, yet I'm not trying to get every single thing done in an insane amount of time. Accomplishing what I can, making task lists for the future, trying to remain organized, and reminding myself that I want all this, helps.

So, there is really nothing to blog about and everything to blog about. I suppose life's normalcy is a good thing to report, just 3 months post- incarceration. Three months ago yesterday I walked out of Carswell. So many people get stuck, I'm one of the few who chooses to not forget, yet I've moved forward so quickly. Not sure what statistics I'd fit into. I'll probably be reading about all the people unlike myself in my classes. It will be cool to find some research around people who do thrive post incarceration. 

I hope I have many days where I'm at a loss on what to write. Sure, everyone gets writers block. For me, though, it's also a sign that life is good. I'll happily accept that.

My First Real Criminal Justice Class

There are three areas that criminal justice programs tend to cover broadly - policing, courts, and incarceration. To say that I have a real personal insight into each one of those areas is an understatement. So much so far in this first three hour class focused on a system that conflicts between punishing wrongdoers and due process - yet there is so much grey area in the middle. Students didn't question that everyone is arrested before arraignment, yet I sat in there, an example of someone never technically arrested. The discussion in class was lively and I showed myself to be interested, inquisitive, cynical, flexible, and perhaps a bit annoying (who knows). Well, I hope not annoying - it was the first day of the class.

At one point in the class, we all had to sign up to work together in teams of four on issues. Initially I signed up on the restorative justice team, since I am a trained facilitator. However, six of us signed up and we had to limit each group to four. The professor said something about "flipping a coin," and I said that "I don't gamble," to the whole class which made people laugh. If they only knew that my gambling led me to the criminal justice system they so desperately want to work within. In GA the main book (yellow book) it includes that we cannot "flip a coin," so that's why I ended up just saying that I'd volunteer to go to another team. Now I'm on the Sentencing Guidelines team... Yep, I know a bit about that too. I'll be looking at it all from a federal point of view - I think that will be my specialty. Seems, so far, most everyone I meet, works on the state level.  One Prof already told me it is hard to get fed data - that should surprise nobody!!!

I do not have another class until next Wednesday due to the holiday, so I have time to get my hands on some textbooks, start assignments, and get back in the groove. In the meantime, it's a four day weekend for me. Not sure I've been working enough to earn a Labor Day, so I promise to keep myself busy!

Exactly Where I Should Be

There were several moments of pause for me today. Two professors decided that since I am not yet an official phd student in the department, they are uncomfortable with my taking their courses. So, I signed up for two master's level courses. I must always remember that it is a large part of recovery to humble oneself and I'm sure that I will learn much from those courses. My other course will remain at the phd level and I'm also auditing a one credit phd course that was recommended. I'm fascinated by all the people and their interests. Other than the professors, I think I'm the oldest person in the room by a decade or more. That was not the case in my education courses where the phd courses were filled with people ranging in ages from 20s to 50s.

I miss my old cohort. I really enjoyed my friends and now I sit at a table with strangers who I know will become friends. In the master's courses, many students are looking at this University being just a 1-2 year stop for them, so long term roots may not be their goal. I like learning in collaborative environments, so I hope to meet some people who are interested in doing similar.

My campus has various coffee shops in buildings throughout. After my class today, I wanted a chai tea latte, but the closest cafe I knew of was in the education building and I must admit, a knot filled in my stomach about going there today - the first day of classes - likely everyone from my old program would be somewhere in that building.  So, I went to the website, and actually discovered that a cafe was in the building directly next to where my classroom was. So, I went there. Wouldn't you know it, I bumped into an old friend from my old department as I entered? We were always friendly and I see no reason to be any different, so I asked several questions around how he is doing. It felt good and once again, I hope I diffused any initial weirdness. 

The other truth is that I've been waiting so long for the admission answer, I'm the least prepared I've ever been for a semester of school. Just tonight, after celebrating Sporty's bday with a great dinner, I picked up some notebooks and a folder. I currently have three of the twelve books I need to have (trying to get as many as I can through the library, but I'm still locked out of most systems for a couple days). I need to quickly decide how I will handle all the pdf's professors want read, citation software, studying schedule and locations, opportunities for study groups, update on citation style requirements for this particular program, etc, etc. I've always had these issues answered and myself well organized before the start of each semester in the past.

I walked my campus proudly, though, today. I walked out of my car knowing I belonged there. There can no longer be any doubts. My journey is far from over, but I'm at least starting a new path and can't wait to see where I wind up. I may have an F for felon stamped across my forehead for the rest of my life, but I now get to show you all how unlimited out opportunities are despite our pasts.

The 11th Hour

There have been moments this year when I started to question myself, especially lately, am I holding out for something that is just not meant to be. First, my judge tells me that my academic career should end, then my admission is revoked to my phd program after two successful years, then my readmission is put on what seems like an indefinite hold. I don't verbalized my fears, but what if the real answer is "no?" What if I am not officially admitted to the University, what then?

I never had a backup plan. I just kept listening to the messages being given to me - keep trying, be patient, maintain hope, assume it's going to happen, and no one questioned my actions when I did just that - not my PO, not my supervisor, not my new department. They just kept cheering me on - keep going!!! Well, okay, if you all believe in me, and I believe in me, then I'm going to just keep holding onto my belief in hope until I no longer am able to. With classes officially starting tomorrow, I drove home at 5pm having done my program orientation and a long meeting with my supervisor today, wondering if the every five minute check to see if I finally received an email saying my hold was lifted had been raised was too much. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to accept reality. Since mid July, I've been checking and rechecking my email constantly, being told it'll take a week, then ten days, then another week, then waiting til Tuesday, and now it had been another week. Time was ticking. 

5:52pm tonight by email:

"The hold on your application has been lifted and you are approved to continue your academic pursuit. 

My sincere best wishes.

....

Director of Admissions"

After I send a quick thank you, he replies back to me with, "Thank you for your patience, ... Have a success[ful] fall semester."

Let's be honest. I was anything BUT patient! It was 14 hours prior to their start of classes and I was officially admitted to the University. The biggest struggle was within myself, not the process of getting back in.

It's sad to know that many people would probably have never fought their way back into the University. Once their admission was revoked, they would have accepted it as a new dead end. I pray that people can learn from my experience that while I had many self-doubts along the way, perseverance, honesty, open-mindedness, flexibility, and hopefully some humility have helped me find my way back into a major University outside their traditional timeline, into a very competitive program, with a number of opportunities for a future that will not only allow me to pay my restitution, but to pay forward all the good done for me, and do public good for others throughout my life. 

Tomorrow I will officially sit in my first class as an official student of the University after my incarceration. I will never forget how many people went out of their way to help make this possible for me and I will do my best to make them all proud. Most of all, I will do the best I can to make myself proud. I do not have to be perfect, I just have to commit myself to this, work hard, follow through, and believe in myself. 

I am officially a student again at the 11th hour!

The Restitution Question

According to my judge's order, I must pay 10% of my gross income to my restitution. Since I had to report in about my "police interaction" last night (he'd already received notice and was glad I called because he was going to call me), I decided to ask a bunch of restitution related questions.

My P.O. has been doing this job a long time, like a lot of people I meet in the criminal process, yet somehow I always seem to have the unique circumstances, even though they really shouldn't be all that unique. I asked about whether a grant and a student loan will count as income in terms of having to pay 10% toward my restitution. I was not complaining about having to do so, but I do worry that those funds have specific educational purposes and putting them (even 10%) toward a personal debt may be outside the guidelines of the grant/ loan. Also, on federal taxes, they are not forms of taxable income. I'm not sure if that matters. My P.O. will get back to me on that. It's not my plan to actually take out much in loans, mostly I am eligible for a grant that I'd like to receive and I may need just enough loans to help with textbooks, student fees not covered by my graduate assistantship, and a little bit of support to catch up since I've been unemployed since I've been home and since I was never officially made a student, my employer could never pay me that donation made on my behalf this summer - because I'm not in the University system. I told my supervisor to deposit the funds into my school year stipend account. At least sharing household expenses with Sporty really cuts my bills big time!!

Another question I had is whether any of the restitution payments I made while at Carswell are showing on my file. The entire time I was locked up, not one monthly payment actually showed up as paid, even though the funds were withdrawn from my account. I was told it's a slow processing issue. What else is new? My PO didn't know.

I asked where my restitution is going and where I should be sending it. It's another question my PO couldn't answer. I guess it was a confusing morning for him with all these very difficult questions before 9am. I knew it was a miracle he answered his phone. He never answers his phone. 

The phone call ended and from the conversation I learned that my PO was glad I wasn't out selling anything illegal last night when I had met up with the cops. NOPE. That I knew slightly more about my restitution situation than my PO. That apparently no one else ever asks their PO a question prior to 9 am.

Where this leaves me? I'm attending the department of criminal justice's graduate student orientation tomorrow. I still have a hold on my admission, although I now know that even the dean of the grad school, the same one that revoked my admission last year, signed for my admission this year. It's waiting for one last signature. I have no access to any University systems, libraries, parking permits, etcetera because I'm not an official student. I'm working my 20 hr per week graduate assistantship, only I can't be officially hired because I'm not a student yet, and I'm earning no money and have none of the benefits. I'm eligible for a grant and student loans, but they can't be processed until I'm a student and then my PO will decide if I'll have to pay 10% of the financial aid to my restitution.

Truly, even my PO thinks this is all going to work out!

Sirens

I don't know about you, but I'm one of those drivers who hated when a police car is driving behind me. I may be doing everything right, but I will suddenly be nervous. Somehow I will just know that they will turn their lights on and I'll get pulled over. 99% of the time, they just turn away or pass my by, probably annoyed that I've slowed down too much. Ugh, a granny driver! It's that 1% of the time that scares me, though. I don't want a ticket. I never was one to do well with police interaction, but now that I'm on federal supervision and have a record, I'm especially nervous. We all hear stories.

I'm guessing you know what I'm leading up to here. We had a really long day today. T.S.' dorm room move-in is on its third day and finally the furniture is set where it is staying (I pray) but once that was set, we had to go shopping and, well, we were all pretty much exhausted. When we left the store around 9pm, I failed to turn on my headlights (I'm still not used to driving a vehicle that does not have lights that can stay on and automatically turn on/off) and about half way of the four miles home I realized it and flipped on the lights. That's exactly when the other lights (blue and red) were flipped on behind me as well. My first thought was, "I'm going to have to call my P.O. tomorrow morning and report this..." My goal is to stay under the radar, not have to report police interaction.

The rules are the rules, though. I listened to the officer inform me that my lights were off. I told him about not having my car for the past year, about why that was, how I'm not used to not having auto lights, how my parents had been taking care of the car, etc. Be humble. Be honest. 

A few minutes later the police officer returned to my vehicle and did not write me a ticket. He believed me story. It was the truth. Always best to just say the a truth. I'm glad I spoke my truth, there's a lot in his car computer that he can gain access to that even I don't know, so I'm never going to try to outsmart a cop. 

I still have to contact my P.O. tomorrow. I will likely only get his message machine. He will write some comments in my file. It shouldn't leave to bad a mark as long as I continue to do what is expected of me. I hate to admit though, I think I will now be a bit more scared of those officers driving behind me for now on.

The Truth of Fellowship

One of many words I had no real meaning for prior to six years ago was "fellowship." I'd known of community, but now that I know of fellowship, I see how much deeper it goes than community. One of the great gifts of being in a recovery program is the fellowship we share, especially as we build stronger relationships and personal connections within our meetings.

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to experience the great blessing of incredible fellowship today with new and old friends - including some I haven't seen for quite a while. The day brought laughter, tears, hugs, smiling, sharing, helping, and even some drawing. I hold onto energy from days like today to help me get through tough days, remembering that many people are still struggling with this insideous illness losing everything, and that through GA, I have some very close friends.

I think people are able to find fellowship in places outside of recovery rooms and events. Many religious institutions organize around concepts of fellowship. I think a true fellowship must have some open form of communication about a specific topic.

In the end, today,I chose to give my phone number to two people needing a female person to help them with initial ga program question and two people who want to attend our new meeting. Most important to me, though, was that hug. The hug by my ga friend who wasn't quite sure if she would see me this morning. Feeling the reaction of her body while we hugged and knowing that those were real tears of happiness to see me, is the real fellowship that has kept me knowing prior to, during, and now after prison, that I am never alone and the very real value of fellowship!

Step 7

"7. Humbly asked God (of our understanding) to remove our shortcomings."

Step seven in gamblers anonymous (and most 12 step programs) reminds us that we are not necessarily able to remove all our personality and emotional defects on our own. They are a part of us, some we may not even know exist or we may not know how to describe, but they pain us or others and add difficulty to our lives. Our goal is to tackle such shortcomings one at a time and find healthier ways of thinking and living.

I must admit, I'm being tested on my ability to "let go," "have patience," "accept what seems unlikely," and just release it all to my higher power. I am one resolved to do just that. For six years doing so has never steered me wrong and I know, really know, that this time will be no different.

I'm obviously talking about the University. I'm obviously admitting that I did not hear anything today. Friday's workday came and went and I did not hear a peep about the hold on my registration and enrollment. 

This is what I must do. The department of criminal justice told me to assume that the hold will be lifted and to attend orientation Tuesday and my class Wednesday. My boss has me working, with no pay, my fall hours, assuming the same hold is being lifted. Everyone is just moving forward being positive, and doing their part.

I shall continue to do the same. I spent so much time looking to see if I had a new email today, that Sporty and T.S. Did me a favor and took my phone from me for an hour. I'm glad I had to have that anxiety break. Nothing will change this weekend, so that's another 48 hour break. Truth is, it doesn't even matter if news comes Monday or Tuesday, now, because I'm already attending class next week no matter what. 

I'm just going for it. That's what all the messages are telling me to do. I may be the crazy woman who can't even take a library book out because she's on hold in the system, but I'm going back to school next week. I think I'll start listening to the messages I'm receiving and not all the self defeating talk in my head. (Note to self - ask God to remove self defeating talk from my head when able...).

Do You Really Want to be My Friend?

One of the first things I did when I was released from prison was clear out most of my Facebook "friends." If I haven't seen, spoken to, or written to you in a couple of years, are you really someone that needs to know everything about who I know's head got recently covered in ice water? I kept my close friends, my family, my recovery friends, anyone who wrote or supported me in any way while I was in Texas, and University friends that I knew were caring despite all the gossip and drama. I no longer cared how many Facebook friends I had, just that I knew that whatever I posted I didn't have to worry about who was on the receiving end. My privacy settings are high, but I can't and won't control what others do with the information they receive from me. It's okay though, I'm not ashamed of my life.

Every couple days, though, I receive a friend request. It's either from someone I had unfriended due to my uncertainty of their support, or we weren't friends prior to my incarceration. I look at the request sometimes and for a split second and wonder "why," why are they reaching out to me. Truth is, most of them know nothing of where I've been for the past year. Some didn't even notice we weren't Facebook friends until they saw me post on another friend's message. It really doesn't matter. They are reaching out to me, wanting to reconnect.

I made the decision tonight to go ahead and just accept the friend request and to send them private messages saying that they should check out this blog so they know what I've been up to and ask questions in they have any. I've done that so far like four times when people have friended me and I'm pleased to share that they have all been incredibly supportive. I'm so amazed by the open mindedness of the vast majority of people I meet.

According to prison time, I am three days and a wake up from my new department's orientation, and four and a wake up from my first class. I still have a hold on my enrollment and registration. The secretary at the department wrote to me that I should move forward on the "assumption" that the hold will be lifted. I decided to order a couple of the books from Amazon today. I can return them if I have to. Or maybe that open mindedness  did spread to the University and I will be officially a student once again in just a few days, adding more people to my Facebook friends list.

Back to School

Now don't get excited, I did not get any news. The title is referring to T.S., not myself. When T.S. chose my University among those she was accepted to, I was thrilled. I knew I would have the responsibility and honor of helping her purchase things for her dorm room and freshman year, make big decisions, and support her through difficult times. I'd promised her a meal off-campus now and then, some laundry assistance, a bathtub when she wanted it, and a listening ear always. So many promises before I learned I would be going to prison, and worst still, have to self-surrender before she even moved onto campus.

Sporty is a great mom and did everything for T.S., but I hated not being there for both of them - the ins and outs of college life, especially at my University, is really an area they lean on me for. I did what I could from Texas - through phone, trulinks, and mail, but I was absent and failed in every one of my freshman year promises to someone who did not deserve to be let down by me.

Being back now gives me the pleasure of a second chance. T.S. may be going into her sophomore year, but she happily still seeks parental type guidance and support. She selected to live on campus for another year, so I get the opportunity to help with the dorm room this time. I already made her happy with one success. She and her roommate really wanted to buy a Capet for the room. The school sells a cheap one for $175 that fits the room. I took T.S. to a carpet store and she bought a remnant of a carpet the same size, worth over $300, for $120. It's softer, fuller, she saved money, and she had no idea remnants existed. Ah, it felt good to help. Unfortunately, the 12x11 carpet is rolled and laying in our entryway all the way to our kitchen until we can move it into the residence hall Friday, which makes our home currently look worse than a dorm room. Superdog can't quite figure out if she should walk over it or if she needs to walk all the way around it to get to the door to be let out.

Other things we are doing is look for a bike (her bike last year was stolen), obviously a better bike lock, buy school supplies (which totally geek me out), pack, organize, shop for some clothes (everyone wants back to school clothes), and talk through ideas. I'm with her every step of the way. 

We are working the same schedule this week, so we spend the rest of the day together, running errands, talking, listening to music, walking here and there, and eating too much. It's perfect and this has been a week I'm so grateful to have with T.S. I told her that I'll probably have empty nest syndrome next week and when she's at school. I'll see her probably weekly or often enough (we will be on the same campus), but it won't be the same. She's an adult, she's already grown up so much in the past year. I have had such an amazing two months spending time with her at home and seeing the maturity first hand. 

It's been an honor to have had T.S. allow me to act as a co/step parent in her life. It has always been up to her and she chose to let me in. Perhaps I healed a part of her and I know she healed a big part of me. Everyday I spend time with her, I am in awe of her individuality, intelligence, maturity, wisdom, creativity, selflessness, and humanity. I can't wait to see what she is like in five years, ten, twenty. In the mean time, I'm just excited to be helping her prepare to go back to school.

One Year

Today marks the one year anniversary of the day I self-surrendered to FMC Carswell. Every moment of the day is still so vivid in my mind. There were so many new sights, sounds, smells, people, touches, clothes, and rules. Nothing in the world prepares you for that first day.

I knew from the beginning that I was not alone. Survivor just dropped me off and I knew that she and my other close friends were all thinking about me and some even shedding tears. My letter writing started immediately. As did my connections with new friends - South, Chi, Freckles, Appeal, Danbury, Lola, Mama, Nurse, Glitter, Curls, Army, Bandana, Braids, Ark, Cali, Taz, Red, Bunkie, Longwinded, Mexi, and many more! Friends and family were a lifeline throughout the last year and I thank every person who has said a kind word, shared a laugh with me, sent me a letter/card/book, tweeted me, Facebook messaged me, sent emails, or prayed for me. While incarcerated and after, my heart has been truly filled with awe at all the love and support I've received. Thank you!!!

I guess, if I lost good time, today would actually be the day I would exit prison. Yesterday would've been 365 days and today was the +1. As the goody two shoes I am, I didn't visit the SHU and lost no good time, so I didn't have to truly max out (I knew of very few who ever did). However, I guess that's another reason this date - Aug 19th is significant (I have 3 min to finish this blog post and upload before the date turns to the 20th -  not going to happen - but know I started on the 19th!!!)

Three years ago, on August 19th, I also started a private blog with one of my best friends and I just realized it today, when the site we used (we stopped posting about 1 1/2 years ago), sent me a your blog turned 3 today email. It appears that August 19th may be a very significant date for me.

Okay, I got my hopes up. I did what I always say DON'T DO! I built expectations and assumptions around today. This morning I put on Facebook that my life would "change" today... All because I believed that today is the day I would hear back from admissions and my hold would be lifted. This belief did not come out of nowhere, mind you. I had some decent clues.

Last week, my supervisor at work received a call from admissions telling her that the application is back at admissions and is now waiting on one more signature from someone who will be back in the office on Tuesday (TODAY - the 19th). I was told by an assistant dean in the grad school that I should hear at the early part of this week. Well, after today, it's the "mid" part of the week... So, you get my drift. I'm doing my best to have patience, but people first told me I'd hear two weeks ago, then last Wednesday, and then Today. 

Did I hear today? Well, I did talk with admissions today. The final person was on vacation and just got back. They are not sure when he will get to my file. That's where it was left. School starts in a week and my job should have started this week. Ce la vie for the life of a felon!

So August 19th resulted in more time volunteer working at my future campus job, spending time with T.S., working out to Jillian Michaels, watching the "American President," and being a plain, good, fine, ordinary day.

If I Could Choose

While I'm not technically on "welfare" because I do not have kids, I am on several forms of government assistance - Medicaid and Food Stamps. I have no idea the cost on the taxpayers to support me month to month for these two items, but I thank every one of you for helping me survive as I rebuild my life. 

Truth is, the taxpayers were paying my room, board, medical care, security, maintenance, education, clothing, and every other expense I had while I was in Carswell. So, I suppose I'm becoming less of a burden on the taxpayers. Unfortunately, there are a lot, I mean a lot, of people in my same shoes who are forced to live on the governments dime. So many people talk about how people take "advantage" of the system. All I see are people who will do anything to get off the system.

I for one am eating far better than I would on a grad student's stipend and getting just as good, if not better, healthcare for free than I was on my prior insurance. However, I cannot wait for the day that I can call the government assistance office and inform them that I will no longer need Medicaid or food stamps. I would rather struggle to make ends meet, but stay on my budget and do my best, than have to keep living off the government when I do not have to.

It is very unfortunate that so many ex-felons are unable to find work and are forced to rely on government assistance. I'm so grateful the safety net exists for us. For everyone. I've known a lot of people who have been on unemployment, Medicaid, food stamps, cash assistance, childcare subsidies, and many other government funded programs. Without these opportunities, so many families and individuals would struggle even more than what happens now. Whether a felon, a low income worker, a displaced worker, someone retired, a teenage parent, a single parent, a foster parent, whomever you are, these programs exist to help. I will never forget these months of assistance I received and like so many other things over the last several years, I will pay it all forward as I am able.

Memories More Than Things

I've always been a believer in the idea that giving memories is more important than giving things. With people though, we like the things, the tangible. On birthdays and holidays, we like the act of unwrapping something. Objects - the more the merrier, especially when we are young. How many broken McDonalds' toys does every parent have sitting around their house because their child HAD to have it? Truth is, adults are rarely better, we want, want, want what we see in ads and windows. Things just are fun and somehow our lives would be better if we had more things.

It was when I was a late teen, and my best friend Art and I decided to take long road trips for our winter breaks, that I truly realized that it's the memories, not the things that last and make our lives better. For four weeks one year, and five weeks the next, we traveled nearly every continental state and experienced beauty, crime, horseback riding, late nights, city life, rural landscapes, perfect sunsets, trolley rides, long walks, running out of gas, getting lost (before gps), strange people, all kinds of humor, visiting relatives, making new friends, getting sunburnt, freezing noses, crossing the Canadian border, hopping over to Mexico, sailing, camping, sleeping in the car, sleeping in nice hotels, sleeping in roach motels, and filling pages of diaries and photo books of interesting people, places and things. I do not remember most of the things I was given over my lifetime, but I certainly remember almost every aspect of those two trips and other memory makers I've done over my life.

For the last week, T.S.'s little sister has been visiting us and we've done all sorts of things. She lives in a very urban environment and before she went back home today, I wanted to give her a memory of an experience she never can have where she currently lives. She has talked about wanting to do it before, but usually expense is a large factor. However, I woke up this morning and something told me to just look it up for this area. Being in a more rural area, I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised, but it was very affordable to give her the experience. We surprised her this morning with the opportunity to go horseback riding. She's nine years old and old enough to remember the first time she went, and she will always remember that she went with T.S. and how old she was, etc. We gave her a memory!

Over the last week, she received some rollerblades and a bike as well (thank you Craig's list) and she loves them both and used them a lot. However, something tells me that when she is older, it's not the things she received this trip that she will remember, it is the experiences. I'm so happy I was able to provide her with a life experience today!

Chicken Tortilla Soup from Scratch

Prior to incarceration, I wouldn't have attempted it. I'm not a cook. Whenever I wanted to help in the kitchen as a child, I was shooed away. Later in life, nothing was ever made except what went in the microwave. I always enjoyed home cooked meals, but doubted my own abilities. Since being home, I've branched out and tried and failed a few times - never ask me to make those puffy Thai noodles unless you want me to burn down the house! But, I've also had some successes! One of those is a wonderful chicken tortilla soup recipe!

It's healthy, has a kick to it, and tastes darn good! I'm proud of myself for learning the recipe, doing a little experimenting, and having decent success with it more than once. It's gonna be a staple food in my life for a while, I can tell!

It's an example that it's really never too late to learn something new. I don't ever think cooking will necessarily come easy to me, but I can never again say that "I can't cook," and Carswell actually taught me that. Carswell also taught me the real value of happiness. Even in my bad days since being home, I've been happy. How could I not be? Life is soooo good! I have everything I need and more! I am allowed to have choice, to think, to dream, to open a door and step outside, to smell fresh air whenever I want to, to ride a bus, to walk a dog, to sleep past six, to wear jeans, to own twenty pairs of shoes if I want to, to use the Internet, to reach out to friends anytime, to eat when I'm hungry, to sleep when I'm tired, to hug anyone I want to, ... What's not to love and be happy about? I can cook in a pot, on a stove, with fresh water, with real chicken, fresh vegetables, and savory spices. I can add any kind of cheese I want, and even sour cream - real sour cream. My mayo is refrigerated, so is my lunch meat and salad dressings.

Sure, about 2 1/2 months, I should be fully acclimated to life on the outside again. I think I pretty much am. My driving is what it always was. My technology geekiness is back full swing, I enjoy wearing a full range of colors and shoes. I spend time with family and friends like no time has past. 

It's different now, though. I know it, and they know it. It's subtle in some ways and not so subtle in others. I have stories of prison life that are now just a part of me. Some are curious, some don't want to hear them. I don't separate myself from any of my experiences. I'm genuinely more content - for better or worse. I'm also willing to try new things - like cook a new recipe... Even if it results in the smoke alarm beeping a few dozen times. Hey, I'm used to that, we had fire drills constantly at Carswell!!!

Couponing

I don't know if it got ten times worse while I was in prison, but the web and app stores seem packed with coupon and discount sites. There's ibotta, retail me not, cartwheel, groupon, store apps like Walmart/ target/ jc penny/ walgreens/ best buy and others that offers discounts and so, so, so many more. As I drive by or walk near a store, my phone literally lights up with offers for the stores I'm near. Yep, I'm still 'choosing' to be tracked.

I'm on an incredibly tight budget with no real income right now, so these discounts and coupons are a necessity of life. Often, I'm using a 15% off on top of a sale item to get even more off. At Target, I can use thier "Cartwheel" application discounts on top of the 5% off red card discounts. Everything helps, even when purchasing toilet paper or deodorant.

Don't pay full price for gasoline, I have a store card for 5 cents off a gallon. Need an oil change, here's $15 off. Want to eat out, groupon has many options, so does several coupon sites. I can get double up coupons at the farmers market - spend $10 in food stamps on fruits and vegetables, get $10 more. Need those shoes? I'll figure out where we can buy them for the least expense, plus get a discount on top of that. There's a way to get a discount on our cellular service. Let's get this discounted Internet service. Don't ring that up yet, I think I have a coupon!!

Since coming home, my life has been filled with a lot of electronic coupons and discount codes. Some are scannable, some I have to print, some I read to them aloud. 90% work. Even I am often surprised. I've even gotten free things, like ice cream, beverages, museum entries, movie tickets, and more using these coupon sites. 

This world is filled with great deals, but it's not always easy to find them. I'm lucky I have access to a smartphone that allows me to take advantage of so many deals. Many people in similar economic situations would not and therefore only those who could afford to pay more have the opportunity to pay less. Kind of backwards, right? It's making me think about the importance of getting technology access to those who are the most disenfranchised in our communities - including mobile access. Think about all the ways you use your mobile devices. Imagine if you could not have that access in today's world. For one thing, you would not be able to take advantage of all the great discounts available for the things your daily essentials.

A Health Update

My doc had ordered some labs that were done yesterday and I just so happened to have an appointment with my rheumatologist today. They were very telling. There was a lot of good news. In fact, I'd say they were the best darn labs I'd had drawn in over two years. As someone with a chronic illness that means a lot. All my CBC and other numbers look really good. However, there were two numbers that were concerning, but made sense. See, the last labs drawn at Carswell actually showed my inflammatory markers as nearly normal for the first time since I'd gotten sick. The sed rate and c-reactive proteins are very important markers for how active my illness is. Since they were low, I had been experiencing less pain and had all that energy and workouts were great. However, lately, my workouts (same ones) have been tougher, my pain has increased, my fatigue has increased, and I've noticed that I just can't do as much. Well, the blood work showed that my inflammatory markers are twice what they were in May and are well above normal ranges. Ah, that explains it!! The doc is raising the dosage of one of my meds and seeing how it goes. She also told me something I didn't know - sometimes flair ups are seasonal and asked if I'd noticed it... Well, it was in September two years ago that my health went really out of control so maybe summer/fall is my bad season. I'll have to track it. In the meanwhile, though, my job is to live with my chronic illness, not let my chronic illness live my life. I'm going to keep working out and adjust as needed and accept that sometimes I just have bigger limitations than other times.

In other news, Freckles is officially out of Carswell and at a halfway house. I'm so happy for her. Like me, not everything went according to her plan, but now she has her own room (I believe), access to a personal phone and vehicle, the ability to see her husband, the ability to work and earn real money (she already has a job), and a chance to move forward with her life. I think since she did RDAP, she will be at the halfway house 4-6 months, but her sentence is cut like a full year and she will be able to do some of her RDAP after care on home confinement. I think Freckles will be good with all the rules. She really isn't a troublemaker. I'm just so glad she is out of that place and able to start picking up the pieces of her life! I'm not sure how I would've gotten through Carswell, especially those last 5 or so months, without Freckles!!

Tonight I watched the DVD of the movie, "Divergent," which is a book series I loved. The movie was pretty good, but I'm glad I read the books first (isn't that usually the case). I hate to admit that I have yet to read a full book since I've been home. I also haven't finished my blanket. I have books to read. I have everything I need to finish the blanket. I have no excuses. I can't even tell you what I'm doing that's taking up so much of my time. I do feel a bit unstructured since I've been home. I never thought I'd enjoy knowing that I'd have 45 minutes at 4pm every day to relax and read or again at 9pm. I certainly don't want a regimented schedule again, plus I have errands and real responsibilities now, but I need to build in some time for reading and hobbies. I really do miss it! Plus, since I can't be working out as hard due to my current state of health, I mind as well be working out my brain and creativity!

Not on My Timeline

I put it out there on Facebook this morning... today was the deadline. It really is a deadline. Today is the absolute deadline for hiring Fall graduate assistants at the University. My job kept waiting to hear that the hold on my admission had been lifted, but the call/email never came. I learned this afternoon that the news will not come for another several days, we can stop waiting, the deadline will pass us by. What it means for my job, I don't know. Grad assistants are supposed to technically start Monday under contract. My benefits are supposed to start the 16th. Since I am not technically a student, I cannot be hired and I cannot be paid, nor can I earn any of the other benefits of a graduate assistant. It won't stop me from coming to work everyday. It's just going to make a lot more work for my supervisor and the organization's secretary to process me in once they are able to. I have no idea what it will look like, how long it will take, and what it will all mean, but I am not giving up hope!

I guess I look at all this stuff and must look at the bright side - I have not been told that my admission is being denied. All I am told is that it is on "hold." It is not on hold indefinitely. It has left the graduate school, now, and sits before a "committee" who is assigned to make a decision on every graduate student who applies to the University with a felony in their background. At this point, I am being held up against the same principles and rules as every other 'similarly situated' applicant, I guess I'm really okay with that. Perhaps I'm more, or perhaps I'm less of a scary character than others. Who knows?!?! Well, in reality, I'm not sure I could be more harmless than I am, but whatever it is they choose to consider from my file, will be fine. With multiple people on a committee, I pray it's not just an arbitrary decision. I should know early next week.

I have no idea if anyone reading this even cares if I get back into school or not. I don't even know why anyone reads this blog at this point. I sometimes feel like I am partially fighting this fight for all of us with felonies and/or addictions in recovery. I want us to be able to say that we do not need to be defined by our pasts. We watch famous people be able to move on and forward so easily from these things, but lay people are never given the benefit of the doubt. We need to constantly prove ourselves and defend our choices. We always have more and more hoops to jump through. The fight is exhausting, but if I can do, and if I can succeed, than I can be proof that others can do it too. We need some of us willing to jump through all the hoops in order to help others know that they just need to keep jumping. So, I'm jumping, and jumping, and jumping. I started jumping at Carswell and I had no idea how fit I'd need to be to continue to jumping once I was home.

There are so many times when I see dead end ahead warnings. Somehow, though, my gut tells me to just forge ahead, there may be a yield, but I can get past the roadblock. Perseverance, passion, belief, honesty, drive, character, humility, gratitude, acceptance, patience, and focus can help a lot. I do my best to never doubt the end goal. I am going to school in Fall. I am working this job. I may be on "hold," but that's just a formality, and it's only temporary. It's just another hoop. I will be going, I am just not able to do it all on my timeline.

It's up to the Grad School

It was only eight months ago that the grad school of this University sent me a letter informing me that my admission was being revoked. This morning I learned that the same Dean requested my new admissions file and is now making the new admissions decision. She'd ended her prior letters to me with "this does not preclude you from reapplying to [the University]." I hope it also does not preclude me from being readmitted to the University. My fate, once again, is in her hands.

The truth is, this may not be a bad thing. As I mentioned a couple days ago, the criminal justice department specifically asked for a waiver of the admissions processing so I can be admitted, which they said would need to be approved through the college of social sciences and the graduate school. So, the Dean requesting the file away from admission could merely be the formality of that process and my admission "could" be coming soon. When I mentioned what occurred to the CJ department in an email, the response was, "Sounds like they're working on it, and we should have word soon."So, I shouldn't worry, right?!?!? I'm doing my best, really!

I guess I should have put together my backup plan already. I'm a planner. I'm usually quite organized. I watch so many people with felonies struggle to get any work. Highly talented people who can't even flip burgers or make beds at a motel. With my health issues, I know that my only chance at work, and especially at paying off my restitution and being a productive member of society, is to be using my brain. I will just keep sustaining the hope that this is all going to work out. There is still time. Tomorrow is the deadline for putting me in the system for my graduate assistantship. We have about 28 hours from the time I am writing this post to receive an answer.

If I do not hear anything before the end of today, I will put together all the courage I have and try to reach out to the Dean in the morning. My hope is to just let her know the deadline we are on with the graduate assistantship and that I am available for any questions or concerns she may have regarding my application. I do not want to appear pushy, but I need this job along with the admission to the University and the grad school will understand that. I pray it won't have to come to that. I can see the worry in my supervisor's eyes. She also does not have a backup plan. She has plans for me that stem far more than even this upcoming school year. It's the organization's 50th anniversary in two years and she already has me on the planning committee.

It's my time to try to put all this out of my mind for a while and go spend some time being in the moment with a friend. I can do that. I will turn off my phone so that I am not constantly checking email and I will take a couple deep breaths and find the courage to let things be what they will be. I know that no matter what, it will be okay. I will be fine. I will persevere as long as I am in recovery.

Great Losses

Today I learned about two great losses. The first was a well known incredibly talented man - Robin Williams, the other, is only going to be well known postmortem, Michael Brown. Robin was 63 years old, had a wife, kids, incredible career, and all the money he would ever need. Michael was 18, just graduated high school, was about to start college (first in his family), had two younger siblings, a loving mother and father, had all the possibilities of the world in front of him, and barely enough money for his family to make it paycheck to paycheck. Robin was Caucasian. Michael was African American/Black. Robin struggled with addiction and mental illness and committed suicide. Michael was shot and killed while surrendering unarmed to a police officer. Michael would have known who Robin was. Robin would have mourned Michael's wasted death like the rest of us. These deaths bring up so many issues that are near and dear to my heart - racism, addiction and recovery, mental illness awareness, suicide prevention, police ethics, classism, power dynamics, and more. I cannot think about the death of one of them without juxtaposing it with the totally preventable death of the other. They were both tragic deaths. I certainly have my own opinion on which is more tragic, but it matters not. The world lost two important souls today because our society closes it's eyes to the most vulnerable populations. It's time we said, "enough is enough!!!"

Tonight, I had to explain to a nine year old about both deaths, as she inevitably picked up on the news of the day through talk, tv, and the Internet. Why do people commit suicide? Why would the police shoot an unarmed man? She lives in a city most of the time and sees tragedy more often than I even know. Yet, she still has that young girl curiosity and although I don't want to lie, I don't have all the answers.

I guess I kind of know. I've been so close to suicide in the past. In 2008, I hated myself so much that I believed I did not deserve to live and I just wanted the pain to stop. Once recovery and therapy started, I was able to quickly move away from that mindset, but it was a very scary time. 

As for the hatred and power behind the extreme racism and fear that must exist for the violence by officers against unarmed people of color, I do not know that feeling. However, I imagine that it is really built in extreme fear as fear drives so much of our negative choices and behaviors in this world! Police actually shoot their weapons rarely and there's a lot of protocol that goes along with the decision to shoot. Somehow, these officers from all over the U.S. are finding some fear based instinct overcoming their police trained protocols, and they are shooting. It's a horrible reality. Couple that with the fact that racism also plays a pervasive role in how long a sentence someone gets in prison and people of color are consistently targeted by the justice system. I don't agree with the riots, but I certainly understand the anger.

I think Robin Williams would try to use some humor to defuse the situation, though. 

"Never pick a fight with an ugly person, they've got nothing to lose."

"We had gay burglars the other night. They broke in and rearranged the furniture."

"If women ran the world we wouldn't have wars, just intense negotiations every 28 days."

Well, you get the idea.

I'd like to think that had Michael survived, he'd had beaten the odds and graduated college. One day, he would have gotten married, bought a house, and had a career he loved. He would have had three children, like his parents. His kids would watch Netflix and one day would stumble on an old Robin Williams movie -maybe Mrs. Doubtfire or Jumanji and Michael would have watched with them. 

What's Tall, White and Has Four Wheels?

Answer: My car! I think I've just added the last key to my keychain to make it the complete set. Before I went to FMC Carswell, I mentioned how odd it felt watching my responsibilities diminish one key at a time. My car keys went to my mom and step-dad who chose to keep the car as their own for the last year, maintaining the payments and insurance. My mom bought a new car a week ago and now it was time to turn my car back over to me. With Sporty and T.S. out their way for the last few days, they were able to drive my car back home to me. Tonight, I had the opportunity to drive it for the first time in over a year. It was wonderful.

Taking back my car comes with the responsibility of paying the monthly payments and picking back up the insurance - both of which will start in September. Through school, I will be able to afford to do so. When the arrangements were made for me to regain my car, we hadn't realized a hold would be put on my admission at the University. However, I truly believe I will be starting this fall and my assistantship will begin in a week. I wasn't taken this far only to not have the opportunity. 

Driving my car for the first time tonight felt really great. My phone immediately synced up with the radio and it felt great on my back to be sitting up, instead of having to lean back, while driving. My folks took good care of it and it had been cleaned before it was turned back over. Only 12,000 miles on the odometer and a small ding on the door. I've got a sweet ride and I'm so grateful to have it back!

I have to admit, though, the car is more than I need. It is a 2013 model. It's a small SUV and very roomy. It has advanced technology and fun bells and whistles. It's not an automobile that someone just getting back on her feet is usually associated with. I had it before I knew I was going to prison. It was the same model as my old car, just a newer one that I traded in for. It seemed to make sense until later when it made no sense at all.

Now, though, I just will love my car. Maybe I'll finally give it a name - like I did Hope. It is a sign of my life moving forward and things coming back together. My keychain is full once again and I'm excited to have my car key back in its place.

The Truth in Social Media

I was looking at my Facebook profile earlier today and it still said that I am an education student at my University. Which, of course, I no longer am. Last night, I discovered a similar issue on my old Instagram account. Throughout the social media world, I am listed as I saw myself prior to my incarceration and have not even thought about updating these things since I've been out... until today...

I imagine I have numerous accounts I don't even think about that are connected to life as it was, not as it is. I do feel, though, that I need to extend my honesty to my social networks and update my information when I discover outdated information. At the same time, I don't need to explain the 9 month gap of my life between August 2013 and May 2014 - if someone asks I'll tell them, but no one's bio says, "and this is the time I was at FMC Carswell." Before I went to prison, I had hoped that I would obtain my PhD by 2016. Now, I am looking at 2018/2019. Quite a difference. These are the changes I am making to my bios.

Experts in the world of social media, employment, and privacy laws warn folks to be careful with what we put out in cyber space. Do you really want your future boss knowing that you were up all night downing shots or that you swear in all your tweets? You may think your privacy settings are such that only those you want will be able to see your updates, but there are a myriad of ways for people to learn about others through social media. When I am about to hire someone, I often google them. I know that people google me as well. I don't need to put anything about my crime or incarceration on my social media, because when they google me, they will learn all about it.

I figure I should just be myself in my social networking world. I am not suave, so I don't need to appear suave. I am not perfect, so I do not need to appear perfect. I'm nerdy, in recovery, bookish, into the arts, a technology geek, quirky, funny, independent, and creative... I think that's what comes out when someone looks at my persona in the social media world.

For ex-felons, it is even more important that we be aware of what our social media presence appears like. Our PO's may be keeping an eye on us through these networks, even if we are unaware of it. Travel outside your region and check-in to a restaurant on Facebook and your PO will know it. Tweet that you are with your bestie from the prison and you may be going back to the prison. Upload a pic to Instagram of you getting high and see how fast your are brought in for a urine sample. Whether you use your real name or not, do not try to play stupid using social media while on parole/ supervision. I truly believe our PO's are much smarter than many of us give them credit for.

All that being said, I don't think for one second that I am really anonymous with this blog. A lot of my friends and family read it and know who I am, obviously. A lot of people I was locked up with know about it. Many of the CO's inside read it - including several that made some backwards comments to me at times about it. It's not hard to figure out who I am - hmmm... one of 4 Jewish women. 5' tall. Entered on August 19th. Left on May 28th. Lived in One North. Gambling addiction. Yaddah, yaddah, yaddah (thanks Seinfeld). I may not use my name, but I did choose to identify myself in numerous ways. I did that because I want to be a real person to everyone who reads this. I did not want this blog to feel like it's being written from a third person point of view.

I have no idea how my PO would or will react if/when he learns about this blog. It is such an important part of my life now. It has almost been over a year of writing nearly every day. I am ten days away from the anniversary of my self-surrender. This blog started as the story of someone preparing for self-surrender, became the story of someone incarcerated, and now talks of like beyond bars. I think it is important that I keep writing. I hope you all feel that although you don't know my direct name or my exact town, that you feel that you know me as a person... I am updating all my social networks, however, I think for now, being Dragonfly Hazel is a persona divide that I am going to maintain for a while.