this weekend would be good fodder for a story. not that i would really know, but prison’s probably not too different an experience than this. we all wear scrubs, can’t wear makeup, sleep in one barracks-style room, and do everything according to the clock. wake up at 6:15, wash and dry forearms at 7, sit for initial chromameter assessments of our arms beginning at 7:30 and continuing at three-minute intervals until breakfast at 9. the lotion was applied in three phases earlier this afternoon and now it has all been washed off. so the rest of the weekend will be spent in getting chromameter readings every two hours to measure how much our skin has lightened. (not visibly so far!) they feed us well and we can use the internet and watch tv. i’ve been reading the firm, the only one of john grisham’s novels i’ve ever sat down with (apart from a painted house which is entirely different from the rest of his work).

it truly feels like a world apart. i looked out the window for a while at the rain-soaked streets, the dimly lit windows of the convenience store and barber shop, the lone man waiting at the bus stop. but let me tell you, wearing scrubs makes me really eager for hardcore PA stuff!

most of the women here have an upfront style and acidic sense of humor that appeals to me for some reason. it’s so real . too often i try to blend in wherever i am instead of just being myself, regardless.

lately the name daphne has been growing on me, although in a vague way it makes me think of dragonflies. it just sounds so … feminine. and different, enough. i wish i could get away with naming a child siorse. but not many people would know how to pronounce it (“seer-sha”: it’s gaelic) even though it’s beautiful spoken aloud, and even fewer would know what it means (“freedom”). maybe if i get a cat.