Why Don't You Love Me?

This is the loaded question I've been asking the LOML (aka love of my life) for the past five years of knowing him. All because I had temporarily forgotten my true worth when it came to loving him. Now that I am over the self-pity I allowed myself to indulge in while in prison, I'm now asking myself why on earth did I ever love HIM?  He is extremely unavailable, inattentive, and aloof. Beyonce had it right when she said "There's nothing not to love about me. Maybe you're not the one. Or maybe you're just plain Dumb!"

You Don't Even Care to Care

The last few weeks I've spent cleaning out my prison approved contacts list - deleting a lot of my old contacts/friends/Plan B's, C's and D's. Getting ready for my new life just around the corner. I even deleted the LOML from the list. Twice. In the last week.  Only to end up adding him back in after much consideration. I wasn't just quite ready to delete him for good yet. Until today. After one last desperate failed attempt at making him love me.

I should have known it was never gonna happen from the moment he said to me that his career would always come first. I had never had a man tell me that before, so I didn't quite believe him when he said it. Neither did I know exactly how to process that bit of information. All the while I'm thinking, "Fine. No problem. Go work so you won't be up my butt 24/7."   I didn't ever stop to think that he MEANT it literally. I mean, it's not as if when I considered painting him green and calling him Benjamin so I would find him more exciting - I actually meant it in a LITERAL sense. Don't we all sometimes say things we don't mean from time to time?

Check My Credentials


His being a workaholic didn't bother me in the least bit.  I needed a man with his own life's ambitions, so that I could be free to pursue my own. So this is a quality that I actually placed on the "pro" side of the list on my assessment of him.  Not too many women I know look forward to their significant others spending more time at work than at home.  But for me, the less time I needed to spend entertaining him, the better. So, yeah...work is good. His living four states away? Even better!

It's not as if I was ever going to fit into anyone's happy homemaker role in this lifetime.  And that's when I finally realized that it's not him that's maybe not the one. Maybe I'M just not the one.  It's me that was trying so desperately to become the ideal woman I was picturing in my mind that he needed or wanted.  And then I realized that no matter how much I tried to change who I am, it was never going to work with this man, or any ordinary man, for that matter. I'm way too into doing my own thing, working into all hours of the night, doing whatever I want, whenever I want.  I have a trash mouth when I'm mad, a crass sense of humor, I get bored easily, I LIKE to be alone, travel alone, eat out alone - but I'm also a walking contradiction.  I like a man to dote on me, adore me, take care of me, buy me things, pay my bills, go places with me on long weekend getaways. But when I need him gone, he needs to know when to go. And when to come back without me having to ask. Is this too much for a woman to ask for? This is probably why I will be all alone for the rest of my life. At least it is according to my mother, my friends, my friends' mothers, and their mother's mothers.

I've Got Moves In Your Bedroom

Case in point... One of my Plan D's flew in to see me, and while out to dinner looking over the menu discussing this and trying to decide on what to order, he said, "Don't look at ME. I'm not on the menu!" And I just couldn't resist... out from my mouth came, "Well that's a good thing because I was thinking of just f*@#ing you, not marrying you." So NOT the right thing to say if you want a guy to ever call you again. Well, at the time, I thought it was pretty effing hilarious. Still laughing. I thought we were platonic! Sheesh!!! Guys can be so sensitive!

Or, this other Plan Z, who was annoying the heck out of me whining about me not wanting to go out with him on this particular evening. He said, "But I drove over 200 miles to come see you, Alexa." My response... "So! All my OTHER boyfriends cross the seven seas to come and see me!" Um... he never called me again either.  Did I mention he was Plan Z?  I thought that was a pretty clever comeback. Obviously, he didn't. Oh, well, that's why it's called "dating" and not "commitment." He can now save on his gas mileage for sure.  So, what is a girl like me to do?

Honey, You Better Sit Down and Look Around

I've been considering going for a nice Jewish guy. I met one once. Leaving a bagel shop in the Upper East Side a few years ago. He's a lawyer on Madison Avenue. I'm a lawyer, so immediately I thought "No WAY!!!". I know I'm reaching, but I've often wondered where my life would be now if I actually had called him instead of losing his business card somewhere in the bottom depths of my Gucci pocket book. Hmmmm....

Too bad we don't have Google/Facebook/Linkedin/Twitter/People Finder here in prison.  I'd be all over that by now.  Can you imagine a bored prison babe with too much free time on her hands having access to all these tools? Scary, isn't it?

Well, there's always M. Krause, the sexy German-Mexican guy I met once on holiday. He had offered to pay whatever it took for me to leave my old life and become his wife. I wonder how much he would pay for me NOW? Am I worth less for being locked away all these years, or am I worth MORE because of it? I think it all depends on who you ask.

Let's face it, I get to work out everyday to keep the booty right, and these lips haven't kissed a man who isn't my father, brother, uncle, cousin or nephew in the last couple of years. That's gotta be worth something on the single's market! I wonder if his Black AMEX card really comes without a limit... I will be saying "Si! Si! Si!" all the way to the Cartier storefront in Manhattan first stop out of here!

I Even Put Money in the Bank Account

Well, to give credit where it's due to the LOML, we did agree to date casually "until someone better came along." Five years, and countless Match.com dates later, no one better ever did come along, but I kept hoping.

So, why then, am I so obsessed with making this guy fall in love with me, when clearly it was never our intention for that to happen? I've said "no" a million times over to a million different men, and when I finally found someone I wanted to say "yes" to, this one was no longer asking.

Perhaps it's nothing more than the thrill of the chase? Mixed signals coming from his sweet kisses? The really wanting to, but being afraid of everything that comes heavily packed in my Louis Vuitton baggage?

It doesn't really matter now. I am this close to coming home and going right back to making my own way in this world - unattached and free to choose someone truly deserving of me.

And as Beyonce says.....

I've got Beauty.
I've got Class.
I've got Style, and
I've got A$$.

I woke up in a fabulous mood this past Sunday morning! I slept in until 9 a.m., got up to fix myself a steaming cup of java juice, then I toted my cosmetics bag, curling iron, and MP3 player to the spa-like bathroom to make myself beautiful so I could start the day off right. I was meeting my friends for a pancake brunch at 11.  (Did I mention I'm in PRISON?)

I danced my butt off to some old school dirty south booty shaking music. The very first song that came on was "Lean Like a Cholo" by Down AKA Kilo, then Destiny's Child's "Soldier", followed by Bone's "Homegurl (He Gotta)" - of course, we only get access to the edited versions, but our memories and imaginations fill in the blanks just the same.

So, all this got me thinking about God's funny way of punishing people like myself - the forever optimistic.  (No, I don't really think God punishes people. Puh-lease spare yourself the effort of a lecture here.)

It took an entire lifetime to meet a man that made me say to myself,  "I would marry that man," the moment we locked eyes from across the room. (Have I mentioned I am marriage averse? So, this was a HUGE deal!)

He was everything I had ever wanted in a man (except the big bank account, I'm sure - but let this be my little prison fantasy) - tall, dark, handsome, nice, funny, educated, and super intelligent. As an added bonus, he looked Middle Eastern, but was Hispanic, like me, spoke perfectly fluent Spanish, with a super sexy accented English!  Out of my eyes popped big, red, fluffy cartoon hearts - I was in LOVE!!!!

Then reality slapped me right in my perfectly round ass.. "Your in prison, Bitch! Get over it!!! Move on!!! Just thank God for putting that man in your path so that you have something pleasant to look at while riding out your time." Sigh!!!  I was already planning the wedding in my head. From then on, he became my eye-taco - a tasty treat for the eyes, but completely off limits!

It was a definite torture seeing him every day. I ended up quitting my prison job because of it! Everyday I had to remind myself through the use of my computer log-in..."Don't forget Sunil."  I had to remind myself at least 10 times a day not to forget the guy who was supposed to be the "love of my life."  It was a constant, all day reminder - one that didn't quite work. When it didn't, I resorted to plopping the LOML's photos all over my desk at all different levels and angles, hoping his gaze would reel me in back to reality. But, no... that didn't work either. I had it BAD!!!

It was just too much for me to handle, so at the first opportunity to leave my job, I grabbed at it and ran as if my prison life depended on it!  I was killing myself with the constant torture of what was that man! Then, thankfully, I graduated from that prison, and saved myself from all of that.

In prison, inmate and staff love connections are strictly off limits. Not that it never happens (it happens quite often), but the penalties are super stiff, and the consequences super serious.

Prisons adhere to a zero tolerance policy, and have implemented what is known as PREA - the Prison Rape Elimination Act.  This act was enacted for the protection of the prisoner - to discourage, prevent and/or eliminate sexual violence towards prisoners from both staff and other inmates alike.

This act criminalizes any sexual physical contact between staff and inmates (or inmate to inmate), leaving no room for "consensual" relationships, regardless of any insistence of consent by either party.  Under PREA, there are no willing participants - period!  Any staff member found engaging in a prohibited relationship with an inmate, can and will be prosecuted under this law.

This places a very heavy burden on staff to be careful not to toe the line with any inmate, especially when working in a prison environment full of deprived women who may or may not have the best intentions, or the best of integrity.

Offering credible and verifiable testimony against a staff member may result in the loss of career, and a potential prison sentence for the staff member, and an opportunity for a sentence reduction for the inmate victim who is willing to testify against the accused. Under this current set-up, someone has to lose, and it's not always the staff member accused of wrongdoing who loses.

The first issue is the reliance on the accuracy and veracity of the accusation and the accuser. The other issue is then the reliance on prisoners to actually report these crimes.  The immediate consequence of reporting is a trip to the SHU (Special Housing Unit - or solitary confinement), where the inmate is segregated from the general population for her protection. This is followed by an investigation of the charges, and a possible transfer of the inmate to another prison facility during the time it takes to investigate the incident reported. This transfer almost always results in an inconvenience to the prisoner through the limitation of visitation, phone, email, and mail services while in the SHU or in transit.

While these consequences act as a deterrent to the making of false accusations, they also inadvertently act as a deterrent to reporting.  How, then, does a prison system's administration act to protect its charges, while at the same time offering those same protections to its staff from false accusations? I'm sure that it's a delicate balance between the two, albeit an imperfect one.

The current system, however, does appear to be working. Most women in prison never experience any physical violence towards them - of any kind. I am almost certain that it's a direct result of the enactment of PREA, and of everyone becoming more aware of a prisoner's rights to be free from unwanted sexual advancements.

So, ladies, don't worry too much about this issue if you are getting ready to turn yourself in. Prison is not a "Caged Heat" sexual free for all. It's not "Orange is the New Black" when it comes to sexual relationships with staff or other inmates.  No one will bother you to become their girlfriend, some of the staff will only pursue you if you let them, and you're not leaving here gay if you didn't already come in with those tendencies. If you did, you're most likely to become "gay for the stay" - meaning you'll find yourself a "girlfriend" to hang out with, who will cook and clean for you.  If you're not gay - you won't become gay, period!  Regardless of the length of your sentence.

So, may the powers above forgive me, but I will continue to fantasize about my delicious taquito, eye-candy, love of my prison life. And may he invade my dreams each and every night until I leave prison altogether, and find me a "real" boyfriend. I will never be the one to tell him what he did for me all those years.

To put you in a booty shaking Sunday Fun-Day kind of mood, may I suggest the following playlist:

Going Back to Cali by The Notorious B.I.G.
Hypnotize by The Notorious B.I.G.
Look Out Weekend by Debbie Deb
Spring Love by Stevie B
Stuntin' Like My Daddy by Birdman and Lil' Wayne
Together Forever by Lisette Melendez
Un Booty Nuevo by Jowell and Randy
When I Hear Music by Debbie Deb
Dance (A$$) REmix by Big Sean/Nicki Minaj
Homegurl (He Gotta) by Bone
I Got 5 on it by Luniz

The transfer from state custody to federal prison kept me waiting at the county jail for several hellish weeks in maximum-security lockdown.  I was constantly being moved from one county jail to the next "for my security".  I wasn't allowed knowing where I would be moved to next or even when.  So, I spent many anxiety filled nights wondering if tonight would be the night I would get the dreaded 3:30 a.m. wake-up call to "pack it up".

"Did you see Carmelita on the television news programa last night?"

"Si, Chica.  I couldn't believe it! I heard she shot that no good husband of hers finally!  Ya era tiempo...ese desgraciado, hijo de..."

"I know, right?  Did you see how pretty she looked-ed-it on the television?"

"Si, como no?  Her make-up looked so good, and that dress she had on made her look so skee-knee! I'm so proud of her.  She looked so pretty! Como una artista! Que belleza!"

"I know! I'm so jealous!!!"

In Latino American culture, it's not what you do, it's how good you look getting caught doing it that matters.  Most short-comings, or felonious conduct, for that matter, can be overlooked so long as you look beautiful, and you hold yourself together in front of the camera lens.

Latina women prize their beauty, and will go to great lengths to preserve what they've got, or to improve on their given lot.  We love everything that enhances both our beauty and femininity.  Most times, we won't leave out the door without our full make-up on, or "bien maquilladas", our beautiful form-fitting dresses, and our sky-high stilettos.  We also take great care to always smell really good so that when the chicos walk by, they instantly fall madly in love at our feet and begin to weep for our love and devotion.  That's how our mommas taught us, and that's exactly how we like it!

So, not unlike Carmelita, it's important to know the rules of scoring a fabulous mugshot before you head out to commit that felony.

First, know that you WILL get caught.  It might not be immediately after you commit the crime, but eventually you WILL be brought in to do the time.  So, always, and I do mean ALWAYS, be camera ready - even in the shower!  You just never know when the feds will be busting down your door.

The rule here is to always have your face full on and flawless. Even if it means adding on an extra layer or two of foundation and pressed powder.  If you use the good kind, you won't have to worry about clogging up your pores!

The next step is to apply your falsies with extra-strength, long wearing and WATERPROOF adhesive.  Or, better yet, go get them eyelashes professionally extended, chicas!!!  The application will last up to six weeks, and through several mugshots in the event you are transported from holding facility to holding facility.  Very well worth the small fortune.  (Just bill it to your ex who got you in this mess anyway.)

If you are a bit on the brave side, you might as well go for it all and get them eyebrows tattooed, as well as your lip and eye liner.  It will last for decades, and thus won't smear off at an inopportune time.  The tattoos might not be so appealing during your close-up, but they photograph spectacularly!  And having an attractive photo is what counts during the intake process, as this is the image that will define you throughout your incarceration. Just go to mugshots.com - you'll see what I mean.

When you're all done with hair and makeup, finish it all off with extra-hold aerosol hairspray to lock in your look.  Trust me, you'll end up with a beautifully shellacked mug that even those hot television camera spotlights won't be able to sweat off!

For some practical advice, always dab a thick coating of petroleum jelly right behind your ears so that you can reach for it to use on your lips right before the camera captures your image.  It will keep your lips from cracking, and will ensure a glossy lip and attractive smile at picture time.  This tip also works well for air travel on Con Air, especially being that the circulated cabin air has a very drying effect.

Now comes the hair... Ladies, if your hair is FRIZZY, go get yourself a weave, gurl!!!  Better yet, go get yourself some fusion micro-links so that they are more difficult to detect and you won't be made to ditch the wig when they process you in.  Fusion extensions are not easily detectable, and they can't be "detached" from your own hair without the proper chemicals.  So, chances are that you will be allowed to keep them on your head, even after you go through the "hair inspection" phase at intake.  Be warned, however, that there is a risk that your entire head of hair will be cut off where the extensions meet your real hair, leaving you with a very close crop. (Read... a man-ly cut... which is never good when your final destination is LA PINTA, and not LA QUINTA... in other words... MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON!!!) 

Your best overall bet is voluntary- or self-surrender, if you can swing it with your judge at sentencing.  This will allow you to turn yourself in at your designated facility at a specific time and date for you to start serving your sentence.  This way, you can be prepared for the intake process and that dreaded mugshot!

There is no statutory provision for this practice of allowing you to turn yourself in at a later date and time, so be sure to discuss this option with your attorney so that your request can be presented to the judge at the time of your sentencing.  You may even get the opportunity to select at which facility to do your time in.

If allowed to self-surrender, your friends or family can drop you off at the front door of the facility (e.g. Prison).  You won't be in handcuffs, shackles or chains at your arrival. You'll avoid the weeks of travel between holding facilities and county jails en route to your final destination. Thus, you will look FRESH AND FABULOUS in your mugshot!  It will make your transition into prison life more bearable, and it will make your momma proud when her comadres (las chismosas) look you up online to find things about you to gossip about to everyone in the barrio.

Good luck, Chicas!!!