A Very Difficult 24 Hours

I'm going on less than three hours of sleep. I need to go to bed but I can't. I'm so torn up about events that have happened in the last twenty-four hours. There is A LOT of housing drama. I'm also having personal drama and I'm pretty sure I'm having my midlife crisis twenty years early right now. There's been a lot of deaths around me. There's been a lot of just not good stuff. Then today was just all around awful.

I was coming back from an awful night in which my roommate and I got stranded in Clackamas, and our train stopped at the Union Station. "Oh God," I said, "This is never good."

The conductor got on and said that the train could not proceed into downtown due to an accident on the tracks. "Told you it's never good when the conductor starts talking on a stopped train," I said as the hundred or so people on the train clamored off.

Both of us had food poisoning and I needed to find a bathroom so we walked to my old work. In front of the entrance we found the "accident" the conductor had been talking about.

Accident was not the right word. Not at all.

A man had gone to the top of the building I worked in and jumped off the top floor, falling twelve floors to his death. We arrived at the scene as the police officers were covering the body with trash bags. A mother climbed out of the car in front of the scene cradling a small boy, maybe six years old, to block him from seeing. The man's shoe had fallen off and lay in the middle of the road.

Right where I used to work.

I can't stop thinking about that. I can't shake it. It was awful. With all the death I've been surrounded by, lately. I'm just, at a loss. And as such I'm on here instead of getting much needed sleep. I just don't know anymore.

Homeless Kids That Eat Like Kings

I've been in housing two months now. Hard to believe that it's been so long since shelter, yet it seems like a life time ago at the same time. Today, our housing director, Oliver, brought me some magazines from the Food Network. I had to share them with other residents but his thought was for me, which is really nice. I've kind of become a culinary legend around here.

Since I now have a fully functional kitchen and exquisite roommates to share it with I've been spoiling my roommates regularly with food. We are the only dorm that eats meals and grocery shops together. One of the housing staff came in earlier this week and laughed at our chore chart. One of my roommates had written his own chore assignment under the one staff gives us. He labeled me as the "cooker" and the other female in the house the "sandwich maker". He labeled himself as "man stuff". Apparently this particular staff found it absolutely hilarious because after he stopped laughing he said, "I'm really impressed with you guys; you took very basic housing and turned it into a home." We are the only dorm like ours where everyone is close and warm and fuzzy. We also are the only dorm with a Christmas tree. Although, ours is a Christmakah tree because we have a Jewish roommate so we are doing both Hanukkah and Christmas (or rather really failing at trying to).

The one thing that keeps us the most connected are the meals. We always announce when I'm done cooking and invite the other dorms and staff to our food. Only one staff takes the offer, though Zelda says she would if she wasn't vegan. (Well....kind of. Standing outside after the fire alarm went off for someone else's cooking she said, "I feel really dirty eating your guys' food; but then I also feel really dirty not eating your guys' food. I haven't quite figured that out in my head yet so I blame it on being vegan.) Technically, they aren't supposed to eat the food we make but it's not a set in stone rule. I do get offended when people refuse my food offers. Everyone who has tried my cooking though, sing my praises. Even when I ask my roommates for honest opinions they always tell me it's good. I believe them because there are rarely left overs! It's amazing to me how food brings people together.

Here are some of my meals:

I bake cookies almost everyday. I don't really like cookies but as we all know I really, really love cookie dough. Problem is that when it comes time to actually bake the cookies I get lazy and since they are really only for my roommates to eat. For this ginormous cookie I got sick  of making balls of dough and just put the three batters I was working with in one big cookie. My roommates still ate it without a single complaint. 

My roommates CONSTANTLY ask for Orgasm-in-your-Mouth Chicken. Cover the chicken with mayonnaise then bread with crunched up french fried onions. The Mayo keeps the chicken moist and delicious. Going to try this with Greek yogurt next to see if it has the same effect in a healthier form.

Thanksgiving breakfast. Pancakes with bananas, chocolate chips, and I forget what else with scrambled eggs with bell pepper/onion. There was also  bacon of course. 

Our full Thanksgiving feast. My first ever ham (10lbs!). Plus green bean casserole made with cream of chicken instead of mushroom to avoid a mushroom allergy, biscuits, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing.

Pumpkin pie made from scratch minus the crust. (first ever pie attempt and totally edible!)

Peanut Butter cake also made completely from scratch. (My first ever from scratch cake and it was actually good!) Even the glaze is homemade. We were celebrating a birthday in housing. We asked staff for special permission to light candles for the cake, which can result in immediate eviction. They said, "We won't be monitoring in here for awhile." So we lit the candles briefly so he could make a wish.  It was a nice night. 

--mm

Wizard of Oz

So, I think I explained a little about me getting in trouble with staff the other night. I was supposed to take a Behavioral Night Out (BNO) for walking away from her while she was chewing me out. I refused to take the night out because Oliver (the direct of housing) and Bianca (my case manager) are both gone on vacation. Which is a really bad idea. You should space the vacations out not overlap them so that these problems don't happen. I'd say I petitioned all of the staff I could myself but I didn't. My roommate went down and fought them while I was napping. I think all of my roommates and our honorary roommate Moby were ready to fight staff if they kicked me out permanently.

I thought my refusing to leave would be a lot more dramatic than it was. After 5pm I was officially trespassing (as they pointed out in the notice they posted) but no one even came into our dorm. It was a quiet night. It was odd to me that I was doing what was seen as a drastic form of rebellion but really all I was doing was eating dinosaur chicken nuggets and playing rummy. We kept waiting for some explosion to happen or for them to call the police but nothing. I went to bed at 10pm. It was all very anticlimactic.

This morning I asked to talk to the boss of all bosses of all bosses. The head hauncho. She's like Oz around here. People talk about this Oz but no one is allowed to look behind the curtain. Well, I was going to look behind the curtain dammit. They ran interference and the boss of the case managers told me my night out had become two nights out and if I didn't take that I'd be kicked out of housing indefinitely. "Let me speak to your boss," I told her. She said: "Nobody talks to Oz."

Well, I'm not Nobody am I?

It took two minutes of pressing before she went to talk to Oz, now I know she's easy to budge. She took my two very long grievance reports into her. She came back and told me Oz would meet with me in ten minutes after she read the reports. I hung out downstairs and talked to people I have seen since I moved into housing.

When she walked in I was surprised. I've never even seen her around. She is definitely an enigma. I thought she would be a lot older because people had told me she's been here since the program was started decades ago but she looked maybe like she was in her late forties early fifties.  She said while she normally takes two weeks to follow up on grievance reports she understood my BNO was timely.

We talked for quite awhile. While other issues were mentioned, such as the stalking we mostly hashed out the BNO. At first she wouldn't budge saying that because I already had been warned about my arguing with staff I'd had fair warning about the BNO. I pointed out that I didn't argue, I wasn't mean or verbally abusive. I simply walked away. I said I didn't think it was fair to get a BNO for asking to be left alone when getting yelled at. I kind of went out on a limb and said, "That's what D-Team told me to do in my notice." I thought it said something along those lines but I wasn't sure. Sure enough, she had a copy of the notice so I pointed it out to her right there.

At this point she sat back in her chair and said, "Okay, here's what we'll do." She suspended my BNO for the time being. I think this also means she takes off the BNO for refusing to leave housing. She said she's going to talk to people and figure out what's going on and then sit down with me and the staff the altercation was with. If I prove that I did not make a negative comment to her when I walked away I'm in the clear.

She is also going to look at the other issues I noted such as the staff targeting me, the stalker, the disorganization when I came into housing, things of that nature. I'm hoping that she is going to help find solutions to these situations and turn around all this nonsense going on.

I'll admit talking to her was a good ego boost too. The only other youth who has met her is Moby (that I know of). He didn't meet her specially like I did but instead because she was meeting with a staff when he was around. My roommates asked me all sorts of questions about what she is like. I was really nervous going into the meeting. I wasn't sure how it would go. Since I hadn't met her before I couldn't guess how it was going to go down or even how to approach the situation. I actually really liked her.

Regardless of the results of my BNO I am happy with the situation. I got to stand up for myself, make my case, and hopefully things only get better from here.

--mm

May Have Found My Limit

Shit around here is getting old. There's just a lot of bullshit I haven't been writing about that's been going down. Mostly because I don't have the time nor the energy to give it any space in my mind but I'm about to burst so now you get the dirty details in an angry rant.

The most concerning issue at hand is Kitten Lady. No one has seen her in about a month. There is not one sighting of her since I last saw her in the food courts. No trace. I accidentally washed and dried my phone so I don't have her phone number anymore. I've been searching for her several times a day but  no sign of her and no one has seen her. I'm not the only one worried, other youth comment when I ask them that something feels wrong. Of course, none of the staff see this as something that is a problem. Only Zelda has commented on the situation saying, "Oh my God. You must be terrified." Everyone else carries the attitude of well she's a user she's going to disappear like that. I think being a user makes her even less likely to go off the radar though. She needs to get drugs somewhere right? She always hated leaving downtown. She wouldn't disappear like this intentionally. I'm going to check under the bridge where her mother sleeps next. And then I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm really freaking out but there's no one willing to help me.

Then there's housing drama. Lots and lots of housing drama. Everyday they call me into their office accusing me of doing xyz. It's silly because I'm never even home to do these things. On Friday I was gone for five hours but they still called me in saying I talked about Ginger clan in my dorm. I WASN'T EVEN HOME! It's gotten so crazy staff are seriously following me around and trying to censor everything I say. When I told one to leave me alone she followed me and yelled at me through my bedroom door. She gave me a night out for refusing to talk to her.

I wrote up an eight page grievance about all this bullshit I've been going through since day one here. I'm going to raise hell tomorrow. Night out my ass. Even though I'm going to raise hell and I'm going to win I'm exhausted and stressed from all this bullshit. I stopped sleeping weeks ago. I have a test Monday I'm pretty sure I'm going to bomb because I haven't been able to concentrate at all. I'm just sick and tired of having to fight so damn hard for things that I shouldn't have to battle for. Like privacy and decency and respect. I'm at my wits end and about to crack from all this pressure.

--mm

A Homeless Thanksgiving

Saying "happy Thanksgiving" around here is like wishing someone a happy root canal. Holidays just aren't a huge deal when you're homeless. In fact they're a huge disappointment. We'd rather ignore them than be fed the Hallmark card bullshit that having a family makes you happier and more superior.

I decided to sign up for a food basket at the college for my dorm. Every year the student government makes food baskets for anyone who wants them. I figured what the hell? It couldn't hurt. When I picked it up on Tuesday they also gave me a $10 gift certificate for a ham or turkey. The items in the food basket besides caned veggies and soup were things like stuffing and marshmallows. So I figured damn, let's just have a Thanksgiving dinner. 

Even though it was last minute I figured we should see ourselves above the idea that not having a family makes you inferior. We  can be celebratory and happy and thankful without a Leave it to Beaver holiday.

Wednesday I got out of school early and came home to try and catch my case manager and/or Bernard. I didn't catch either of them. Bernard was supposed to give me the information on how to get in contact with Houdini so I can visit him in jail. My case manager is just near impossible to meet with lately. I'm exasperated with it.

I then went to try and find Kitten Lady at either day program but she wasn't around. I went to Winco to get the last of the supplies to make Thanksgiving dinner. This will be my first attempt to make the full meal ever. I've never made a ham. I've never made pumpkin pie. Still, I'm going to try.

When I got home I quickly made up my orgasm in your mouth chicken. While it was in the oven I ran by shelter to look for Kitten Lady. Still, no sign of her. No one has seen her in a week. I went back home and finished up dinner.

After dinner was finished just about the entire third floor ambushed Zelda in her office, mostly just for the hell of it. I brought her a chicken breast but apparently she's "mostly vegan". -sigh-. After this there was another round of grocery shopping at Safeway in which much of our groceries were stolen (and a meat thermometer).

After dropping off the groceries my roommate and I went on a hunt for Kitten Lady. We walked around downtown for over an hour but no sign of her. She wasn't at any of her sleeping spots. I'm starting to get really worried.

On Thanksgiving I woke up at about 11:30. Something crazy was going on in the day program that involved a lot of noise. I made a full breakfast feast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, coffee. It took me until 12:30 which was conveniently the time the lone roommate that stayed home for Thanksgiving woke up. We ate and watched the newest episode of Abby's Ultimate Dance Competition. My little rock star Asia is still in the running! Top five!

After breakfast we went on a hunt to find movies to watch for dinner. We got Dark Shadows, Madagascar Three, and The Lorax from the Red Box rental thing. Then I bought Nation Lampoon's Christmas Vacation and Seven from Every Day Music.

I watched National Lampoon's while I cooked dinner. I have mass nostalgia with that movie. I grew up on it. As we were going in and out we popped our heads in the day program to look for Kitten Lady. Still, no one has seen her. One of the staff in the day program walked me through how to cook a ham. I adore her. She's very motherly to everyone which is unique.

She is the only one out of all of our programs that mothers people the way she does. No one else seems to be parent figurely besides her. And really, if anyone tried to be our parents it wouldn't go well. But Flora, gets away with it. She also breaks up fights by offering youth cigarettes, a practice expressly forbidden in the day program.

We had everything for dinner: candied yams, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole  ham, biscuits, and (homemade) pie. The sweet potatoes need a little work, they overflowed a bit. The green beans were made with cream of chicken soup instead of mushroom because my roommate is highly allergic to mushrooms. Just as well, I don't like them either. Cream of chicken actually worked a lot better I think. What I forgot were the small things: butter in the yams, pepper in the casserole, the little details that don't really mean much but for me as an oober perfectionist it bugged me.

I've never cooked a ham or made a pie before and I've never done such an extensive meal all at once but I refused my roommates' offers for help. I wanted to prove I could do it all. The meal wasn't perfect but I more than proved myself. Pot Head and Moby also came over for dinner. Moby has become our honorary roommate because his pod is empty and he finds it creepy. We've talked about him moving into our dorm so we don't end up with someone crazy if they let more people upstairs.

After dinner we went out and smoked some of Pot Head's ak-47. I've smoked it at least twice now. It makes your lungs feel like they are full of glass. I took one hit tonight and promptly threw up. I felt like I might but I wasn't sure so I hopped up and ran away from the boys. A few feet and I coughed hard and projected vomit onto the ground. I was happy the boys didn't offer me any more weed when I was done. I didn't want anymore but didn't want to be a pussy and turn it down if offered.

We smoke cigarettes in the court yard when we were done. Even though I only had one hit I was flying high. It felt like we were smoking those cigarettes for hours, maybe even days but it was only fifteen minutes. I don't like to smoke cigs after weed so I kept wondering why it was taking the boys so long to finish. Everything was profoundly funny.

Pot Head had to leave to go into shelter. We continued watching movies upstairs. After we finished "The Lorax" (which Pot Head picked to watch first) we watched "Seven". Now, we're watching "Dark Shadows". I'm less than thrilled about this movie choice. I can only watch Johnny Depp and Tim Burton regurgitate the same movie so many times. But roomie wanted to see it so I humor him.

We haven't cut into the pie yet so I don't know how I did on my first pie but I'll be sure to let you know how it goes when we're done with the movies. I intend on taking some ham to Flora to see what she thinks of my first ten pound ham.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Nothing better than celebrating the mass genocide of Indians by stuffing your face full of food! (jk)

--mm

Favor for a Friend?

A friend that I haven't talked to in awhile posted on Facebook that his younger sister was killed in a car crash last night. She was only eighteen. His family is very close and as you can imagine devastated. I've currently put down other crochet projects to make a prayer shawl/blanket for him. He has requested people's thoughts and prayers during this hard time. I don't really care what deity you believe in (he doesn't either) or if you believe in no deities at all. Just, if you can, and are willing, keep him and his family in your prayers and/or thoughts right now. If you'd like to pass a message along to the grieving family you can message me and I can help facilitate that.

Shame

Firstly, I would like to say I'm really proud of America this election. I couldn't be happier with how things turned out (except maybe if Measure 80 had passed) and I'm proud that people were not only standing up for women's rights this election but also the rights of the LBGTQ community and supporting candidates that are part of that community. I'm happy with the direction our country is going.

Earlier today someone I considered a friend messaged me on Facebook and told me I should be ashamed of myself with being in transitional housing like I am. She tried to taunt me by saying, "How many days have you been homeless now?" Apparently being in housing is the same as being in a shelter.

When I told her that she should respect where I'm at in life or stop messaging me she told me I was self-absorbed and blocked me off Facebook. I was already intending on blocking her. I don't need people who think that way in my life and I reject the idea that I should feel shame for where I've been.

As far as being "self absorbed" I think this friend was merely projecting her own attitudes onto me. However, at the same time I don't care about much else than taking care of myself right now. Trying to be there for people hasn't gotten me anywhere and I find that most people don't return the favor. I'm there for people when I can be but right now my priority is me.

When it comes to being ashamed of where I live there wasn't a whole lot I could do to prevent this. It could have happened to anyone. Most people my age are still living off their parents. I have friends in their 30's that still in some ways depend on their parents in some ways. If these kids that are my age aren't living with their parents they are being housed in college dorms.

I don't have parents. I don't have family. At the end of the day all I have is myself. I think it's reasonable to admit that at 21 I can't do it all on my own. I've been on my own since I was 16. I did okay but I couldn't manage it and being sick.

After the whole mug shot incident I sat down with our adviser of the newspaper. She told me, "Well, you know how journalists are. They don't mean anything by it. You've had a really hard year but it's over now. You're moving forward. You're back [in school]. You're working. It doesn't matter."

Savior Man told me shortly before I got into housing, "Some people spend years being homeless; you did it in one summer. That's something good."

There are kids who have been in shelter for years. There are kids that will never get out. There are adults that have been on the streets since they were younger than me. Once while bullshitting with Gauges Guys at the day program he said, "Where do you think all the homeless people on Burnside came from? They were all here ten years ago."

It's sad but true. But, I am not one of those people. I have exceeded the expectations I set for myself. I'm in school. I'm working. I have a place to live. I'm not in a shelter. I'm proud of myself. I may not be proud of every decision I've made. I may not be proud of what it took to get here but I am proud of what I'm doing with this. I am proud of where I'm going. It's not about what I've been through. It's about where I'm going and what I'm doing until I get there.

--mm

Bronco Bamma

I'm on pins and needles watching this election's results come in. I don't think I've ever been so stressed about an election. Granted, this is the first time I've been old enough to vote in a presidential election. I was just a few months shy in 08. Still, I don't think I have ever had so much to lose over politics.

I am a college student. I am a female. I have health problems. I have food stamps. I live in government sponsored funding and am dependent on a government supported program for the homeless. I work retail in a store that is going to be laying people off in a week or two. I believe in civil rights for all people; men, women, black, white, Mexican, Asian, gay and straight. And tonight all of these things can disappear into thin air.

I've gone back and forth for awhile on whether or not I wanted to make an election post on this blog. My anxiety has me at a point where I can't help but purge this somewhere. I don't want to turn off any Republicans or Romney supporters that might read this blog but you know I can't help but say things how I see them.

Romney's number one concern is not for the homeless population. It's not for the middle class. It's not for me. Romney cares about one thing: the number of 0's he can add to his bank account. My future is not as important as his 0's.

Him winning would mean these services I depend on will be downsized and cut. I could lose my health insurance, vital medication. I could be back on the streets worse off than I was when all this started.

Voting in Oregon closed 11 minutes ago. It's a shame we can't drink in housing. Now would be a great time for a drinking game. Happy election day everybody! No matter who you vote for, vote. It's important.

--mm

FOUR MORE YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Swear I'm Not Making This Up!!

So, first and foremost, HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Halloween is my favorite holiday so I hope everyone enjoyed it. Hope you have some candy handy because this blog post is going to need some sugar to get through. Quite possibly in the top three of crazyness.

Our photojournalism teacher sent us home to enjoy our holiday. My editor-in-chief friend PussyPants (If you're reading this dear friend, you can get a real name when you grow balls and take your job back.) gave me a ride home. I berated him for sucking at his job for a good several hours. (In his defense he admits he needs to grow a pair and stop sucking). We ended grabbing my roomie and attempting to find liquor which is not easy to do at 9pm in Oregon. We finally settled on Mikes. The next problem was finding a place to drink since we can't drink at housing.

We went up to a park and drank on a swing set bullshitting and making my PussyPants feel bad for how horrible the newspaper has been going and how it has been treating me. After this we drove back to housing and sat in his car, smoking cigarettes, and you guessed it, ruining his self esteem. (Mind you he's twice my age and I trained him in journalism so I kept saying "I raised you better than this").

One of our case managers exited the building. We'll call her Zelda because she's a bad-ass nerd. I appreciate her because she is quite scared of me but admits it and amuses me. She has said before that I keep her alive for the amusing factor. She's probably right. She always says my pony tail has an unusual amount of buoyancy that makes her want to flick it and punk me but she values her life so she does not. (Those are her exact words).

So, we're talking and she's telling me I should stop calling bitches bitches because it doesn't set me up to win blah blah blah lecture lecture lecture. Of course I'm sticking to my if you don't want to be called a bitch don't be a bitch philosophy. During this back and forth (where my PussyPants friend says I'm like this everywhere) a man in a real fur trench coat, wearing a real top hat, comes to the car with a cane. He puts his hand in my friend's open window, kneels in the wet grass and unsheathes his cane, which turns out to be a sword. A real sword.

I say "Hi, person I don't know." as he kneels down. Being in the passenger seat I didn't see everything quite so clearly. Zelda said she could smell the alcohol he emanated. At first I was confused, not frightened. It was he pointed the sword toward the car and I saw the blade I began to feel my heart beat slow down in my chest. I didn't know how to react.

He looked at my friend with hate and anger that I did not know a person could feel for someone they don't know. He moved the sword unsteadily as if deciding whether or not to kill us or who he would stab first. Even from the passenger seat I could see the glint of the sword in the dark night, the sharpness of the blade, and the weight in his arm as he held it. It would seriously injure if not kill us should it make contact with our bodies. The man himself was large, over six feet and large stature. Had he not been so scary I may have compared him to Hagrid in Harry Potter. It would not take much effort for him to hurt us, even without the weapon.

I had my hand on my cellphone; I don't remember what else I was doing. I wanted to call the police but I was afraid that pulling out my phone would alert him to kill us. I kept wishing my friend would roll up his window to protect the three of us in the car, but of course no one wanted Zelda to get hurt either.

My roommate had his phone in hand too. He was trying to figure out how he would protect himself and me should the guy proceed to stab Zelda and PussyPants.

PussyPants was thinking about hitting the guy with the car door.

Zelda quite calmly said, "Hi, this is a problem."

She proceeded to explain to Top Hat Man that his behavior was unsettling and socially unacceptable and if he did not put his sword away she would call the police. She told him that this behavior went against social norms. Top Hat Man apologized, bowed, handed her the sword. She took it, surprised by its weight. She handed it back and he replaced it in his sheath and walked away.

We sat there dumbstruck for several seconds, wondering if this actually happened or if we all experienced the same hallucination. Zelda used this as a further example as to why I should be calm instead of calling people bitches. I can't say I could argue with her after this. We all said goodnight, still mystified by this whole scene.

I almost wonder if she paid that guy to make her point but she said she was terrified despite her calm demeanor and PussyPants smelled the alcohol too. It's been the topic of much discussion since we've gone upstairs. I'm amazed by how well she handled the situation. She, in reality, just saved my life and the life of my two friends. She has earned my respect, which is no easy task.

--mm

"I'm only brave when I have to be. Even kings get scared sometimes." --The Lion King

Drug Deal Gone Wrong

I left my dorm tonight to find some food. I usually go to Safeway but since I'm out of food stamps anyways I decided to see if any of the food carts were open. (It's really hit and miss after 5pm). On my way I saw crime scene tape and several fire trucks, police cars (marked and unmarked), and ambulances in the parking lot of the Unitarian church. Naturally, I was drawn to wanting to know what was going on. I thought maybe it was a car fire but didn't see smoke. I decided to walk past and make sure it wasn't any of the street kids who were hurt.

A bunch of street kids were standing across the street behind a news camera. I ran up to them and asked who was injured. They told me that it was a drug deal that had gone wrong and a police officer had been stabbed. When I saw it was a female on the stretcher being loaded into an ambulance my worries were not calmed. I didn't know where they got their information from. And drug deal? That could easily mean it was Kitten Lady or Houdini. I stereotyped wondering is that really a female cop on the stretcher? (Logically I assumed her male partners wouldn't have let her get stabbed.) I really thought I'd faint.

One of the kids claimed it was his brother, so I guess I figured it was likely he was accurate. He and his brother are street kids but I don't really know them. "But, all of our people are okay right?" I asked.
"No, my brother got tasered in the neck."
Well, he did just stab a cop... I mean, our cops are ridiculous and abusive but I'm not sure if you can argue them using force when you just stabbed them.

I felt a lot better when I ran into Kitten Lady next to the food carts. I hugged her and asked her how she was. She was with Pocohantis and a boy I don't know.  I feel a lot better having seen her and talked to her. Sunday I had seen her briefly in the day program. I had to get to work so I walked away after a meek hello. In the end I felt guilty because friends are more important than work and I had more than enough time so I turned around and walked back. When I got there though, she was in the shower. And I got a week ban for calling Beatles Lady a bitch but that's another story.

She said she's doing okay but she looked away when she said it, as if she didn't have the heart to even try to lie about how she's doing. She's really thin. She had bits of toothpaste on her face drying out zits. I wanted to tell her about the black head I popped that brought out a record amount of pus and about how worried I've been and how I want to help her even though I can't. There was a lot I wanted to say. There wasn't time though. The boy said something crude and she cut him off saying, "Don't say that to her. She's my good, good, innocent friend."

She got a call on her cell phone and told me, "Go away for this." She gave me her number and walked away, not wanting me to get caught up in her drug deal or whatever she was doing. I watched her as I walked in the opposite direction and sent her a message warning about the stabbing and drug deal gone wrong, asking her to be safe.

She told me tonight that Houdini got arrested. Nerboy called the cops on him which makes no sense. Houdini was the only one that was ever nice to Nerdboy. Because he was technically on the run he (according to Kitten Lady) will be getting a one year sentence. The really shitty part is he was working, clean, and getting his stuff together to go back home. :( I'm really saddened by this.

It's hard knowing that at any point I may lose people I care about. In the last twenty-four hours thirteen street kids have died, somewhere in this nation. They won't be on the news, like the street kid who just stabbed a police officer. They won't have memorial services. They'll just be gone.

I think out of all the statistics I've researched on homelessness this is the hardest to swallow. Not at first. At first it was just a number. Thirteen homeless kids die a day? Okay. Sure. But, already, in the four months I've been here two people that I know of in our program have died. And Kitten Lady is wavering so close to the edge right now. I don't know those two kids that died. Their deaths impacted me all the same because they brought that statistic to life. Kitten Lady almost overdosed in the bathroom at McDonalds a month or two ago, not long after the first boy died.

I dread the day I walk into the day program and there's a notice posted saying it's someone I know. That it's Kitten Lady. Sometimes, if I really think about it I won't be able to sleep or concentrate. Because I know it's likely to happen. At some point it will be someone I care about. At this rate, one every other month, it will be one of my people.

I guess this could be the case for anyone. You could finish reading this post and get a call from the police saying there's been a bad accident and someone you love is dead. You could go to the doctor tomorrow and  some routine tests could come back not so routine.

I know this. We all know this. It's just that most of us ignore this reality and live our lives blissfully unaware. Streetkids, we daily face the reality that all of this life is temporary. And tomorrow we could wake up and find it gone or worse, lacking the people we care deeply about.

--mm

(A side note: for those of you that remember Gang Banger who I bonded with but disappeared shortly after I arrived? He reappeared today. We didn't really talk just said hi where the stabbing happened. He had been in jail all this time. He looked embarrassed so I didn't press it on talking to him. I was still happy to see him. It's good to know he's okay.)

Work, Work, Work

My life is so busy now! I wish I could update more regularly but at best I'm sporadic right now. I do want to give you an impression of what my crazy life is looking like now. I'm going to split it up into categories work/school/home/whatever as sitting down writing/reading a long blog post just doesn't appeal to me right now. (Though I do acknowledge my blog posts are absurdly long.)

I love my job. I really, really do. The store sponsors my housing program so I feel like work is in a way paying for my housing. All of my managers and supervisors (besides one supervisor no one is fond of) are all fabulous people I feel like I can look up to. Everyone at work gets along, there's no drama (besides people worrying about layoffs), and it's just a happy place to be. Our customers love us. The day after the store opened I had an older lady tell me that she worked for our company when she was in college and it was the best job she ever had. So yay!

It's also super nice that I can walk to work in ten minutes. What's not nice is I love our products so I have spent the majority of my checks back to the store. Stupid discounts.

I don't know what happened but one of our supervisor positions opened up. Our managers posted the opening in the staff break room. I decided to just throw myself out there and see what happened. My manager interviewed me today and when I answered his questions he said more than once, "That's the right answer." I mostly talked about how much I loved the job and wanted to stay and grow there. I also talked about managing people when I worked on the newspaper. My main goal was to talk myself up so that when it came time to decide who to lay off after the holidays I wouldn't be on the chopping block list. When we ended the interview my manager said, "I'm really glad we talked."

I don't know if I'll get that supervisor position. I don't really care. If I do that's awesome; a larger clothes budget! If not at least I know without a doubt I'm on the managers' radar in a good way. At least they know I'm here, ready and willing to help and learn anything and everything.

I still can't say for sure what the future has for me. Who really ever does? I'm tired and drained from all the hours I've been putting in with work and school but I have no complaints. I know where my head is sleeping at night, and now it even has two pillows to support it!

--mm

This is how work makes me feel sometimes (forward to 25 sec if you're impatient)

Why Staff Almost Saw Me Naked

So it's after 1am. I'm sick as hell and I have to work tomorrow. Why am I awake? Some idiot set off the fire alarm in the building and we had to rush out to evacuate. I was in bed totally asleep and totally naked when this happened.

I leaped out of bed and threw my six blankets a good four feet. I couldn't see as I obviously didn't have my contacts in and I don't have back up glasses. I scrambled to find my robe and pants. Staff started to unlock my door to see if I was inside and needed to help exiting. Still naked I slammed the door shut before they got it all the way open and tried to scream (mind you I have no voice) "I'm not dressed".

I almost had to walk out in just my robe but I managed to find pajama pants which I put on backwards. Finding my slippers or my keys just didn't happen. I ran out as I was, pressing my arms against my boobs to hide my lack of bra. I had to wait outside in the cold while sick.

Nobody was happy about this as most of us had been sleeping. Even if we are naked we have to go outside if the alarms go off. Not evacuating your rooms when the fire alarm goes off, even if there is no fire, can get you in major trouble as staff will get in even worse trouble if they leave youth behind in the building when the fire department is called. It never goes off when we are dressed and awake. NEVER.

We joked this time Ginger set it off with the steam coming out of his ears.

We are contemplating putting a sign on our pod door saying, "Everyone in here sleeps naked" in hopes that would make staff more cautious about walking in on us. I think that's imperative information.

God help the person who set off the alarm tonight. If their identity is ever revealed they will have an angry mob after them.; Now, to try and fall back asleep. More NyQuil!

Transfer Meeting

I wanted to take a quick minute to let you guys know how my transfer meeting went. For those of you that didn't read my last post I have to change case managers now that I'm in housing which I don't think anyone is thrilled with because Bernard and I are so close.

Bernard and I ended up having to wait on Bianca, as I have decided to call her (assuming I haven't named her in past entries). [Curious where her name comes from? Same place as Bernard's the Disney movie "The Rescuers". No, I'm not hinting at a romance between the two of them, it just seemed to make sense that both their names would come from the same place as they are both my case managers. I digress]. When I walked in he asked, "So what is this about a pumpkin patch?"
I started laughing because I forgot I sent him a text last night about wanting to go to the pumpkin patch. My roommate and I had ended up talking about how we wanted to go to one last night and I just sent a text asking. Couldn't hurt right?

[[Two side notes about the pumpkin patch. The director of housing is going to try and get one of the staff to coordinate a trip for me. Also, later after the meeting had started Bernard mentioned this and I made a sly comment about 'needing to carve some gingers'. At first he started laughing then he just said, "Don't go there. Just don't go there." Bianca was highly confused. When I talked to the director of housing about it Bernard was like, "Not sure if we should trust her with a knife but we could give her a spoon" LMAO. Carving gingers may have gone a little far though.]]

Anywho after the pumpkin patch conversation he asked me, "What's going on?"
I shrugged, "Nothing."
"Something is going on."
"Nope."
"What's wrong? I can tell something's up."
"Nothing. I'm fine." I was getting terse.
He reached over and shut the office door, "We can play this game all day or you can just tell me."
So I tell him about how the kids at school put my mug shot up on the computers.
"That sucks."
"That's the world of internet."
"It's still pretty bad."
I shrugged, "Journalists know how to use Google."
"Yeah, but that charge isn't you. Its's what you had to do and some not-so-good decisions you made."
I shrugged, "It's whatever."
"You should really be upset about this. It's okay to get upset."
He started trying to do the whole convincing me to cry thing again. I kind of don't get this. I've had my fair share of mental break downs in the last four months. I mean, really what do you want me to do? Cry every time something doesn't go my way? Psh, that's what yelling is for.

So Bianca came in, and we started the meeting. It was well, rocky. We went over the goals that Bernard and I originally set when I first started with him: school, employment, housing, legal stuff. For the most part all of them were finished which is quite surprising since I worked with Bernard for what? Two months at best.

The only goal left was the legal stuff. For the most part the theft charge is over with. The court called Bernard and he left them a message saying I fulfilled my expectations but they haven't called back so he assumed it was over. Bianca said it'd be good to follow up to be sure. On this, I agreed with her. What I didn't agree with was her saying, "Forward me the information and I'll get in touch with them."

Uh, lady, I gave the release of information to Bernard, not you. He already knows what went down. He was the one I called when I got arrested. Not you. So uh, let him follow up please. I was even squeamish talking about the theft charge with her there. Especially after yesterday.

She also decided she would take over the Trimet violation which to me made no sense because Bernard was the one who had all the information for that. She said, "Well maybe we can go when you're done with classes this term."

No, I was planning on him taking me.

I intended to at least finish what we started you know?

When I mentioned my psychotic literature teacher who assigns an asinine amount of homework for a 100 level class Bianca went on this tangent of trying to tell me how to do my homework and how I should get used to it because that's what college teachers do. No bitch, that is not what is supposed to happen in a 100 level class. Those are classes you take for fun, not torture. And one thing you don't want to do is try to tell me how to do my homework. I don't have a 4.0 for nothing. It was in her best interest to shut up. When she didn't I rolled my eyes quite dramatically.
"I saw that outrageous eye roll," Bernard said laughing.
At that point she realized it was probably wise to let the issue go.

She didn't have this wisdom when she decided to bring up the whole key card drama AGAIN. Now, this was Sunday when the housing staff got a little big for their britches and interrupted my homework to shut off my key card when I didn't do exactly what they wanted me to do when they wanted me to do it. Had I wanted to go out and party I would have possibly been able to understand where they were coming from but my HOMEWORK? No, that's not what you want to interrupt. I will go for blood.

This whole thing has been beaten to death ten times over. I talked to the director of housing and Bernard about it. My contact person and I were also on the same page on this. It should have ended the night I told him I wouldn't be doing the chore they wanted me to do because I hadn't known about it in advance. The other housing staff dragged it out by shutting my key card off. Even the director of housing agreed that dumping something on me last minute and then carrying it out the way they did was unacceptable. Bernard was just like, "Dude, can you not call people bitches to their faces?" To which I said, "Well, I won't call them names behind their back." And then he shook his head and dropped it.

So why, Bianca are you dragging out this old shit? It's not helping me accept her as my case manager. And she wouldn't drop it either. Finally I was just like, "I'm done with this conversation. Done. Done. I'm so sick of this. Get over it. We're not talking about it again."

The office got this heavy silence and she just awkwardly said, "Well okay." I'm debating going and talking to the director of housing about this whole thing being carried on the way it is. It's a ridiculous power trip and all they want is to feel like they had power over the situation. Really guys? I already won.

-sigh- So we'll see how everything plays out. Bernard was careful with his wording saying, "I'm not your main case manager anymore..."

Part of me wonders if they'll just give up on moving me around and just let me stay where I'm comfortable. Clearly, it takes special talent to handle me and these people are lacking in that talent.

--mm

My Day Today

This morning Bernard walked me to the bus stop before the day program opened. It was the only way we could carve out time with each other between my work and school schedule. Bernard has also been leaving early at 4pm most days. I suspect something is up. A few weeks ago I walked in on him on the phone in his office. I overheard him on his phone trying to set up an appointment somewhere. In the end he said, "Well, I need to go so I'll take the day off." Before he ended the call he said, "And that's at the Cancer Institute correct?" He takes a lot of days off. A few days ago I called to see if he could meet up after I got off work and he said he couldn't because he had to leave at four; he couldn't stay late to talk to me he had somewhere to be.

I'm pretending I haven't noticed these things. As far as anyone knows I'm completely oblivious. Maybe it's just that I have a friend battling lung cancer but it's definitely on my radar. I'm worried about this. I try to tell myself I'm reading too much into it all. It's horrible but at times I find myself hoping that it's his wife that's sick and not him. But, I digress. I hadn't meant to post anything about any of that, it just came barreling out. Bear with me, I'm not in a good place right now.

Anywho, so he walked me to the bus. There has been continued drama with the ginger clan. The director of housing has encouraged me to seek a restraining order. If I'm successful with it Ginger will lose housing. I went to shelter last night to get every note I turned into Director Lady about the Ginger Clan.

Another tangent, I had a lovely time talking to her. We were laughing about the fact that I managed to get a BLA after getting into housing. (That's talent!)
"I had to do a triple take when I saw that." she said.
"Did you laugh?"
She put her finger to her lips, smiled slyly and said, "I don't laugh when youth get BLAs."
"You totally laughed."
"Maybe a little."

The BLA happened when I went back to get my food and the lady refused to give it to me. It was a new staff, one to replace the four that got fired. When she refused to give me my stuff I argued with her over the buzzer (classic!) and asked, "What are you smoking?" I then buzzed up to the downstairs shelter hoping someone sensible was working. Gauges Guy was so I told him the lady was refusing me my belongings. Somehow I ended up interacting with the new staff again and asked for her to send GG down.

"He's in a meeting," she had said.
"Are you stupid?" I asked, "Because I'm sure as hell not. There aren't meetings at shelter during hours and I just talked to him five minutes ago."
She gave me a BLA for all that which made me and my friend with me laugh hysterically. "I'm in housing idiot."

Director Lady said two years after I get out of services she'll have a job for me. (You can work inside the youth program after being out of services for two years.) I think when I'm done in housing I'll mark that date on my calendar and on that two year anniversary I'll take in that application for the job if for no other reason than to drive Director Lady crazy. :P But, in all honesty I think I might be good at that job.

Anywho, so this morning Bernard walked me to the bus stop. He said when I'm ready he'll go with me to the police to file that restraining order. It's nice to know that I have his support even though the problem is with another youth that he was working with. It helps me feel validated.

On the way he asked me, "So why did you call the housing staff stupid ass bitches?"
I rolled my eyes, "Because they were being stupid ass bitches."
So far I haven't gotten along with housing staff. I find them to be petty. I made it pretty clear when I got into housing that work and school were my number one priorities and that they could not get in my way when it came to these things. Well, they did by turning off my key card for not cleaning the bathroom WHEN I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD TO. I threw a fit and got the card turned back on. At this point I called them, as stated above, stupid bitches because clearly, they were.
"I get that. But don't call them stupid ass bitches to their face." Bernard said.
"Well, I certainly wouldn't call them that behind their back."
Bernard shakes his head and laughs, clearly he has no idea what to do with me.
"If they don't want to be called stupid bitches they shouldn't be stupid bitches. Problem solved."
Bernard gave up.

Houdini has pretty much ended things with Kitten Lady. I don't know if they're actually broken up but every time I see him I ask about her and he says, "I haven't seen her in weeks." He's clean now. He's going to go back to St. Louis so he can be with his family and his son. Every time I see him he says he's going that week but Kitten Lady seems to be holding him back. I know how hard it is to walk away. I told Bernard this on our walk.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked.
"She must be bad if even he is leaving. Everyone thought she was going to leave him and get clean. She was always the one that had a future. Not him. How bad must she be for it to be the other way around?"
I always thought that if I could just get her away from him she would be okay. In the end, I was severely wrong. Bernard agreed, it was always supposed to be the other way around.
"I've accepted that she is going to die."
"How do you feel about that?"
"No one is going to do anything and she's going to die. And that's all there really is."

I leave out that I will have to live with the fact I walked away knowing this. I leave out that I think if they would have really tried when she and I first started to hang out she would have made it. She had stopped using. Part of me believes she only started again because no one had any faith in her to stop. I leave out that I don't recognize her. Tonight at Safeway I saw someone wearing a face mask that had the same color hair but I wasn't even sure if that was her or not. The last time I saw her she was so thin, her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was a mess. The only reason I recognized her was by the way her bad foot turned.

A few days ago there was a memorial service for a youth. I heard about it riding in the elevator with Beard Man. "Another one?" I had asked. Each time there's any form of posting of another death I pray it's not her. I may be at a distance now but I'm still watching my friend die. It's not any easier this way. She still matters to me. There are nights I'm up worrying about her. But what can I do? She purposefully made it so that I couldn't help her anymore. If something doesn't change she will die. And there's nothing I can do.

Tomorrow is my "transfer" meeting. Since I'm now in the housing program I have to switch from Bernard to a new case manager. It was supposed to be done weeks ago but with my schedule it just hasn't happened. Tomorrow Bernard will officially not be my case manager anymore. I will be with the artsy lady I've befriended.

She has always been my second pick when it came to a case manager but everyone knows switching me from Bernard is going to be, well, not ideal. Most people don't get to pick their case managers like I have. I've really been given special treatment in this area. The boss of case managers came to me right before I got into housing and asked quietly, for me to pick between the two housing case managers. When I answered the crafty lady she said that's what she thought I wanted. Even though it was a two minute conversation she was very somber when she asked, as if she didn't really want to have to switch me.

I had my first meeting with my new case manager on Sunday. Even though I adore her for her crafty abilities when we had to talk about case management stuff it felt incredibly forced. She asked me how I felt about the switch and I answered, simply, "I'm not thrilled."
"I know you and Bernard are very close." she said, "You guys had a really special bond."
Going to Bernard was just natural for me. I told him I wanted xyz, left, came back a few hours later and there it was. He knew how to deal with me. Which, let's admit takes talent.

When they turned off my key card the new case manager did not know how to deal with me. It was Sunday, Bernard's day off. I was screaming and calling people bitches and crafty lady was like "wow, don't know what to do with you" and thus it took two hours. Bernard would have just been able to be like, "Okay, let's deal with these bitches so you can do your homework." Granted, he wouldn't call them bitches but he definitely would have known how to deal with me and them when I was on rampage mode. He would have been a little more aggressive about it (though not as aggressive as me).

The good news is no one is going to look down at me for continuing to work with Bernard despite the case manager change. Every time I've seen him since this whole shenanaghan began he's said I can still call/text/walk downstairs any time. Both case managers have said they are willing to work together on issues that I want Bernard in on. The director of housing has encouraged me to continue with Bernard, especially when discussing the issues with the ginger clan. Today Bernard put both his hands on my shoulders (which is unusual. I usually have a strict no-touchy policy). He said, "You are not going to get kicked out of housing. We [case managers] know you aren't who people are painting you up to be. You still have me. I believe in you. You are going to go far in life."

So, I'm trying to look at it as having two case managers instead of switching. Who knows how anything will really play out though?

I didn't really intend to talk about the case management stuff for so long. I meant for this to be a short post actually about school today, not any of this. This mess just kind of spilled out. What I had intended to talk about was what happened to me in the newspaper room today.

I was doing homework. I'm really behind. I got the flu bad and missed classes, and to be honest ditched a few too. I still have no voice. I'm so squeaky that the chief editor was like, "I'm going to walk away because I'm going to start laughing and you're going to slap me." Wise man.

So anyways, I already feel like shit and he comes back in and sits next to me. He says, "Your mugshot was up on one of the computers."
"My mug shot? You mean from last year's column?"
"No, your actual mug shot."
He pulled up the tab and there I was, smirking at the camera. My jaw dropped to the floor. The only person who knew I was arrested was Savior Man. I just don't understand how this could have gotten out without Savior Man telling people. It dawns on me that this means that the editors were sitting around looking for my mug shot and laughing about it behind my back. Furthermore, they left it up for a full day, for everyone to see.

I'm so completely mortified. I couldn't even get through my classes despite one of my classes today was PhotoJournalism which I NEVER miss because I adore my little old Asian buddy. (He's a whole nother blog post). I confronted Savior Man. He insists that the editors just stumbled onto it while they were goofing around in production class. I don't know if I can really believe that. It seems a little far fetched that they just started typing my name into Busted.

Putting that up on computers for everyone to see is something you'd see in the movie Mean Girls. It's not what I would expect from people I consider my friends. I'm now questioning my friendships with everyone and anyone on the paper. I called that place my home.

I left my lit class to go to the dean. It's the same dean who made the call to get me back into school. I feel horrible because I kept intending to go by to see him to thank him for doing that. Instead, when I finally go to see him it's because of high school like bullying. After meeting him I went to see my teacher for my next class and find the bus schedule. My teacher sent me home, saying he will mark me present for the class. I left without saying a word to Savior Man even though he said bye to me.

Not only does it suck to have my "friends" broadcast something so personal it's left me wondering how long I will have to deal with this. I did what I had to do to survive. Am I proud of all of the decisions I made? No. I'm proud that I survived. Do I regret any of it? No. I did what I had to.

Even though I've done my best to laugh off everything that happened on the infamous blog post I don't want that mugshot to follow me everywhere I go. Will I be denied jobs because I'm listed as a criminal online? Will I walk into classrooms to relive this in the future? Will I forever be judged by my homeless stint even after I am no longer homeless?

I don't want to live my life forever defined by these last four months. I don't want people to see me as a homeless criminal. I don't want people telling me I should be ashamed. I don't want this.

Ughn, so that's where I'm at in life right now. Just got in from smoking three cigarettes with my roomie. Trying to remind myself that everything is only going up from here, even though I'm not 100% sure.

--mm

Quick Hello

I've been working on a longer post to update everyone on how life is going. I've been swamped with school and work; I'm tired beyond belief. Still, I'm okay. Being tired from school and work is normal, unlike being exhausted from sleeping in shelter/outside. I'm loving work even though it has been stressful, mostly due to rumors both founded and unfounded that there is going to be a mass lay off. I think I'm okay even if there are going to be lay offs. My managers seem to like me. School is a bit more troublesome. I still have no financial aid information. I'm falling behind in my classes and I'm less and less motivated to go. So far the only classes I haven't ditched are my journalism ones. It's still good to be back on campus. I feel more like me at school. I'm okay. Tired, stressed, overwhelmed, but okay. It's hard adjusting from homelessness to all of this but I know it is a good adjustment.

Housing

Just wanted to let everyone know I moved into transitional housing last night. =]

Survivor

I feel like an update is necessary  I don't know where I'm going to go with this blog. Obviously, a daily blog with school and work just isn't realistic anymore. I don't have the hours between homework and retail. I've been thinking about what direction to take this now. I've decided I'll update as much as I can whenever I can but instead of focusing on the daily account of events I'll try to give you snap shots of what I think shows this experience best. The little moments that make and break me, and my homeless friends.

Currently, I'm hunkered down on my bunk in shelter, using the wifi from the bar below us. Even though the penalty for doing this is being kicked out of shelter I don't ever worry about it. I do a lot of things that would kick me out of shelter if I was caught like eating candy in my dorm and keeping my medications on me instead of turned in.

Even if I did get caught it'd be a moot point. I should be in transitional housing by the end of the week. I interviewed on my lunch break on Sunday. They go to deliberation to discuss me tomorrow but every staff member has come to me and said that they heard the interview went well. Even though I was supposed to keep it a secret the youth know and are happy for me which feels good. The bullies in shelter have finally been kicked out so the atmosphere has been a million times nicer. People were smiling and high-fiving when the BLA was given. I will miss being with everybody once I'm in housing. This place really does have its moments sometimes.

I'm in a lot of physical pain from work. Between Thursday and Sunday I worked thirty-nine hours, all of which were on my feet doing physical labor. My body really isn't cut out for that and I think I sprained my ankle. I went to see a doctor in the clinic but my special doctor lady wasn't working. The guy in her place kept trying to get me to say I'm depressed and asked about the scars on my arms, which made me rather uncomfortable. I don't need to justify my past when I'm coming in for a sprained ankle. You can see I visit the doctor on a regular basis; there's no need for you to pry. If something was wrong my doctor would know and help me.

My days are all kind of a blur. I'm either at work or at school or trying to juggle both. On Saturday I overdosed on 5 hour energy shots and coffee, making myself sick. I was shaking so bad I couldn't hold myself up but I pushed through and worked my shift. Sunday I worked thirteen hours, going to my housing interview on my lunch break. Since I start work at 7am I am dependent on staff wake up calls to get to work on time. This is usually fine. Some of the staff have had a lot of fun with it, waking me up with my energy boost drinks. On Sunday though the guy whispered my wake up call so I rolled over and went back to sleep and had to run to get the bus. I still made it on time but I complained about it to Director Lady. Wake up calls are kind of a big deal for staff to half ass.

I do homework on my work breaks. Wednesday I work before I go to class. I'm managing to keep it all together by squeezing in studying and sleeping when I can. I sleep on the bus, in Savior Man's car, and even under the tables at school. Going to shelter after work isn't all that bad; I'm so focused on shower and bed I don't care. After school though it's really depressing. School is my old life, my old friends, my old family. I still haven't quite figured out how to adjust from the old life to this new shelter one. The little tastes of the life I used to live are overwhelming because I know even when I do achieve that again it won't be the same. I'm not as naive as I once was. Not that this is an entirely bad thing. I've learned who my real friends are and other hard life lessons I'm glad I know.

The best part is that my new job sponsors the program where I will be living. So while I'm getting a pay check every week (weekly pay is also really cool) I'm also sending money back to an organization that has helped me through this stage in my life.

I don't know where I'm going to end up right now or what's going to happen. All I know is that even though this is hard and I'm in pain and I'm tired, in the end everything will be okay. When I was sixteen someone told me I was unstoppable; that I could do anything because I was a survivor. Five years later; I still am.

uh oh

I'm having some difficulties. I feel like it is imperative I show the difficulties of how hard it is to go to school and work while being homeless. All I can say it is VERY hard. I have been working fifteen hour shifts, trying to juggle homework and classes, and trying to stay in one piece. My entire body hurts. My tremors are so bad I could hardly hold myself up and together at work. I'm stressed beyond words. I'm in a lot of physical pain and I'm worried about the fact that my financial aid hasn't come through yet, my housing interview is Sunday, everything is just piling up. My friend that has cancer is going to be in our hometown next week and asked me to come visit her. I don't know how to tell her that won't be possible, even though I know there might not be another chance.

This hard, so hard I just don't know how I can even attempt to keep a blog at the same time. I'm sorry, bear with me while I try to get this all together.

First Day of School (Day 114)

I'm both excited and nervous for the first day of school. I'm worried about the unspoken questions my teachers and friends may have about why I've disappeared since last fall. I walk to Savior Man's house right around the corner from the hotel but I have to make two trips to carry all my stuff and Spencer. This makes me late and Savior Man snaps at me that he's now late and it's my fault. In my defense I called him twice.

Then when he can't find something it's just his exboyfriend/boyfriend/roommate waiting for him. I ask if Savior Man is having a bad morning and informs me they got into an argument and he's worried about not getting signed into a speech course. I nod, sympathetic.

I have two hours to kill before my classes after we finally get to the campus. I visit teachers I've missed in the months I've been gone but feel awkward. I feel them wondering but not asking where I've been all this time. I haven't quite decided how honest I'm going to be. I've always been an upfront and honest person, too much so, but this is just different. In recent weeks I've gotten more open about it. The more open I am the more empowered I feel, but I know it wouldn't take too much to take that empowerment away. Though I know my teachers would most likely be accommodating to my situation, I've had all but one (who is new to campus) of my teachers before and I took their classes because I adore them. (Technically, I haven't taken my photo journalism teacher's class before, but he is a friend to me.)

I walk to Kmart to find a few things I forgot to grab before class. I stop by Dutch Brothers on my way back to campus. When I rode with my friend to classes before I would treat him to a coffee every morning for giving me a ride. At the time I had money so I was able to do so without it being an issue. Now, not so much but since I know Savior Man is having a bad morning and I didn't help I buy him a latte. I find him on the way to my political science class and give him the latte. He smiles surprised and thanks me.

I head to class and get there a few minutes before it starts. I find a seat in the back and settle in. While I wait for the teacher (who comes in late) I fill out my productive time sheets for my housing application. Political Science is the one teacher I don't know. I had been wanting to take a political science class since I graduated high school but didn't because there was only one political science teacher on campus and he started a political cult on campus. (I'm not even joking.) He sued the campus and teachers on it and I believe another teacher is suing him. Anyhow, he was a crazy guy I heard a lot about working on the paper. His scandals were in the paper just about every week so as a result I waited until he left campus to enroll in political science.

The political science teacher to replace our former one also teaches at the state university which makes me happy, hopefully it won't be nonsense. He assigns us chapters out of the text book to read which sucks for me because I never buy the book until the first day of class. He wants it read by Wednesday so I'm screwed if I don't buy it today. Fuck. My. Life.

After class I stop by the newspaper lab to see everybody. There are hugs given out and "how was your summer"s. Our classroom has been changed around and the semen couch has been removed, much to all of our dismay.

My literature class in the afternoon is taught by one of my favorite teachers on campus. Her Creative Writing Nonfiction class was one of the classes I took the first term I was on campus. I adored her and trusted her enough to submit a 145 page final (it was supposed to be 12 pages) at the end of class. She read the whole thing and edited it for me, pushing me to consider publishing. I appreciate her doing that and will list her in the gratitude list should I ever publish, as I promised her on the first page of my manuscript I turned in almost two years ago.

As it turns out Savior Man's boyfriend is in my class. I kick the back of his chair as a greeting on my way to a seat in the front of the classroom. She goes over the syllabus and takes roll. We look at a short story online  that was written in the 1800's. She gives us a list of books and holds a small discussion. I slip out to go to the bookstore and buy my political science book. $96 used. I hate myself for spending that much at the student bookstore but I can't go without it. I cannot get behind.

Savior Man drops me off at Clackamas Town Center after his boyfriend and I get out of class. I run to Target to get some school supplies then take the max to downtown. In shelter I put on music and try to tune everything out so that I can focus on homework.

Yougio and McDonalds Buddy in shelter help by not letting people distract me and intervening when the Ginger Clan start to pick on me. I appreciate them so much. I'm up until one in the morning working on political science before I take a shower and stumble to bed.

--mm

BABY TIME!!!!!!!!!

So, currently in the hospital with Baby Mama, her boyfriend, and her dad. Doctors are working on getting her cervix dilated enough to induce labor. SOOOOOOOOOOOOO Excited to finally meet this baby!!! I'm exhausted but sleeping in the hospital definitely beats shelter! So excited.

Day 112-113

   ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS****

I spend the weekend enjoying my hotel room with Spencer. I'm not sure how to be alone anymore so I ask my shelter friends to come over the second day. I run around to get school supplies and end up stealing most of what I need. The $15 Bernard gave me in gift cards doesn't go far with my pretentious tastes in school supplies.

Spencer and I bond again, and it's good to have him sleeping on my side again. I don't know how I'm going to go back to being without him. I miss my kitten so much.

During this time, to my frustration my computer dies completely. It just stops working. I try to restore it but that only makes the problems worse. I'm definitely frustrated.

I take a bubble bath again, like I did when Jesus and I had the hotel room. I spend the three days naked. I have missed being naked quite a bit.

All in all though it's good to recoop before I start back up at school. I need the time to rest, even though I'm not quite sure how to anymore.

--mm

Day One Hundred and Eleven

   ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS****

I'm completely and totally drained. There is nothing left in me at all anymore. I don't even want to fight or argue. I'm just done. Months of harassment and bullying have just taken everything out of me. There is nothing left to me. No bark. No bite. I just want to sleep.

I go to the library to hide but hiding doesn't happen. A particular girl in shelter texts me to ask where I am. I haven't mentioned her before (that I can remember) though she's been here since before me. She is kind of mousey and often acts like a little kid. For a long time I avoided her for these reasons. She was too naive, too just fragile. She is a Twilight fan. I didn't want to associate with her and her boyfriend.

Since the baby shower this has changed. She and her boyfriend single handily won every game I threw at them. They were sweet and involved, wished Baby Mama luck. Slowly, I began to get to know them for more than their outward appearances.

Still, I'm not up for company. I look like complete and total shit; frazzled hair, bags under my eyes; I can't remember if I've bothered to shower in the past two days. (Oh yeah, I did. I kicked a hole in the wall.) I'm not one to blow people off like that though. I admit I'm in the library.

She and her boyfriend come upstairs and find me. No bullshit, just straight, "You have your ID on you?"
"Are we going to get trashed?"
"Yes."
"Hallelujah."

We go to the liquor store. None of us look 21. When we get to the register we slam down our ID's at the same time. The clerk laughs at us and says, "I feel like a pedophile."

We take our raspberry vodka up to a park outside of downtown. We buy Gateroaide on the way and drink down the bottles so we can mix some vodka in. They brought their dog with them. She's a toy Pomeranian but to me she looks like a rat. She's quiet. Spencer would eat her in two bites.

I make a decision while we're drinking. I decide I'm going to use my aunt's check to get a hotel room. We walk back to the day program and I pick up the check then deposit it. I call the hotel I stayed at with Jesus and bargain for a room for the weekend. I pick up Spencer then we go to the hotel room.

My bank put a hold on the check so my card declines. They loan me the $200 and I swear I'll pay them back. We drink some but end up passing out. Shelter has exhausted all of us. We are too excited to be sleeping on real beds.

I try to go without my sleeping pill since I drank booze but after my third time waking from nightmares I get up and take it so I can finally enjoy sleeping on a real bed.

--mm

Day One Hundred and Ten.

   ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS****

Seeing as I'm so behind on everything right now I'm only going to write the important details for days 110-115.

Before I go into shelter I go to Whole Foods for my internet time. I get bored so I decide to sign into my nine month neglected OkCupid account. I'm just going to poke around and play some of the games/quizzes and delete messages but when I see the account that's emailed me I stop dead.

Are my eyes decieving me or has this guy really messaged me?

Two years ago while I was homeless and living at Nat's I began talking to a particular Mexican guy. We talked everyday for the month I was in California. It was the first time I ever felt so comfortable with someone. I was able to share things with him that my best friend hardly knew. We flirted late into the night with me giggling on my best friend's floor, keeping her awake before she had to go to school the next day.

We liked to joke that he looked like our celebrity crush at the time, ghost hunter Ryan Buell. (Paranormal State is a whole nother story). I would tease him about this, and he equally teased me back saying, "What was that? There's a ghost in my house!" For this reason for the blog we will name him Ryan.

When I came back to Portland I stayed in a hotel room. On a whim he drove from Salem (45 minutes) to my hotel after work. We watched Drillbit Taylor laying on the bed, not even touching. When we started to doze off he asked permission to sleep in his boxers. I laughed at him.

Our shyness didn't last long. One minute we went from talking, to touching, to clothes ripping off in the dark. I had never done anything like that with anyone before but I felt completely safe with him. I have issues with having my neck touched; I hate it. I don't think I ever had to tell him, he just somehow knew not to touch my neck.

We didn't sleep together that night, we did everything but. In the heat of the moment I pulled back and said no and he respected me. Two nights later we were both too sexually frustrated to stand it. He drove to my place (I had found one by then) from 45 minutes away and we finished the job.

This happened a few times. He was the only one with a car but he made the drive every time. When we couldn't see each other we sent each other cutesy stuff. He used to work at Starbucks so everytime I got a coffee I sent a picture of the scribbled code to him for him to guess what drink I got. He sent me an audio bite of him and his two year old meowing at each other.

I got clingy and needy. I was a fucking mess and then some. I wouldn't have been able to handle myself if I were him. He stopped calling and we never spoke again.

Until, now. He's messaging me again.

I squeal and call Nat right away and tell her. She starts laughing but tells me I should blow him off the way he blew me off. I tell her I don't want to do that. I understand and I'm not going to hold a grudge. She tells me he's probably just using me. He admitted he is on the rebound from a two year relationship. I say I don't care. I'm still kind of on the rebound too, but that's another story.

I'm not looking for happily ever after here. I'm looking for some fun sexcapades. We had such an immediate attraction to each other. I don't see why not to have fun with it again. I'm really excited. We talk until I go into shelter.

When I come into shelter one of the boys pulls me aside. He tells me they filled the one remaining bedroom I was trying to get into. The one there was no hurry to fill until I got a job. I'm livid. I ask Bitch Lady to confirm this is true. She says it is.

"That's fucked up," is all I say before turning to take a shower.

Angry Black Lady pulls me aside and tries to talk to me about this whole conundrum but I don't want to talk. I can't take anymore. I ignore her and go into the shower stall. I start the water and jump in, thinking shit there's no way. There is no way I can go to school and work and live in shelter. Not with the bullying and harassment I can't stand.

I can't take anymore. I just can't. I want my life back. I am so close but it's all going to slip through my fingers if I don't get out of this hell hole. I kick the wall in the shower. I underestimate my kick and my foot goes straight through the wall. I should be worried about a BLA but I just start laughing. Staff didn't see it so they can't do anything. And if they argue they can, all I have to do is say "why were you watching me in the shower because if you didn't see it with your own two eyes you can't give me a BLA."

I find this almost too funny. It's nice that for once the bullshit they pull on me will backfire in their face. I finish my shower and dry off. I put on pajamas and start towards my dorm. I think I'm just going to go to bed and sleep off this frustration but Angry Black Lady pulls me aside and tries to talk to me again. I DON'T want to talk but I oblige.

Bitch Lady sees this and comes up to the two of us sitting at the table and yells at me, "You need to knock it off." I look at Angry Black Lady completely speechless. This is a new low for Bitch Lady; to try and bully me when I'm talking to a completely different staff. Nevermind the fact that I did not want to have this conversation in the first place.

The staff bullying carries on until one in the morning. Director Lady watches all of this until she leaves at eleven but she doesn't intervene on my behalf, even after Angry Black Lady pulls Director Lady aside to talk to her about the way Bitch Lady is acting. I try to go to bed but it continues so I grab my cell phone and call Baby Mama to see if I can go to her place. She says it's okay but the bus to her house stopped ten minutes prior.

I start putting on layers to sleep outside. Angry Black Lady says, "I wish you wouldn't" when I tell her I'm leaving to sleep outside. It's the same thing Upchuck's rich girlfriend said before I left the south. But, I know myself and I know I have to go. I cannot take one more minute in the shelter. I ignore the Ginger Clan who sit openly laughing at me.

My McDonald's buddy sees me walking out with all the blankets and layers and stops me. "What the hell is going on M?" I tell him I'm sleeping outside. I can't take one more moment in shelter. I don't want to be in here. I cannot take anymore. I can't. I'm so far past my breaking point.

"You can't leave," he says, "You can't leave me and Yougio. Who is going to help us pull off everything we take to house meeting? Look at all the stuff we've changed." He pulls down a stapled pamphlet Director Lady put up after our last house meeting per our request. It lists all of the various proposals we passed in our last house meeting. All of which were proposed and thought of with the three of us. They are (mostly) as follows:
*Putting Clorox wipes on the back of the toilet so we can piss without having to sit on piss.
*No movie Wednesday nights so we can use the area as a TV room
*Extended the time we are allowed to purchase food.

There were a number of other things but I don't remember. "Without you we wouldn't have been able to do all this," he says, "You can't leave here. You can't just give up. You can't."

He hugs me and sends me to bed. I toss and turn and hardly sleep; hating every moment I'm in the shelter.

--mm

Day One Hundred and Nine

    ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS****

For our third day of JRT it's over at 1pm. I go to the day program and ask Bernard if he found the information to get me an honored citizen bus pass. He hands me the form and I take it to the clinic to get it filled out. While I wait for it to be finished my phone rings. It's a number I don't know.

"Hello?"
"Hi, this is C from Tj Max."
I leap off the bench I'm sitting on. I can't sit still. I pace around the clinic and do miniature gigs, waiting for what I believe will be good news. The other people in the clinic but I don't care.
"I wanted to hire you if you are still interested."
I try to avoid sounding too eager. I accept the job saying I'm still interested. I explain my school schedule and he says there won't be a problem with that. It's part time but that's okay.

After I hang up I scream upstairs to the day program for Bernard. He rolls his eyes at me as I scream up the stairs, "I got the job."
"Hold on," He says and starts down the stairs. When he gets down he says, "You could have had the receptionist call me."
"Yelling was faster."

He congratulates me and says we'll have to make sure that school and work will both be manageable. I roll my eyes. Does he so easily forget I'm a workaholic? He says he knows I like to stay busy but he doesn't want me to overwork myself. I roll my eyes again. He says he'll get me into the Annex so I can have my own room. Now that I have work and school surely they can't deny me.

I go to Trimet and turn in my honored citizen application. I'm worried they'll look me up and see that I have a past due Trimet ticket but they give me the pass anyways. I'm elated. School, a job, a cheap bus pass. Huzzah. And I'll be getting my own room soon. Right?

Nope. When I talk to Director Lady she blows me off saying that I have to work 80 hours before I can get into the annex. This is some serious bullshit. How does she continually keep changing the requirements behind everyone's back? I'm sick of her manipulating me and the rest of the youth. I'm starting to see past her sweet act. It isn't lost on me that no matter how many times I talk to her nothing ever changes. She acts like she cares but so far, nothing has changed. I'm bullied daily by staff and youth. I'm being set up for failure by these constantly changing requirements that no one else seems to know about.

I'm really not sure how I'm going to pull this one off.

In shelter Bitch Lady tells me she wrote me a reference letter to get me into the annex. This confuses me. In part because I didn't know that was a requirement for the annex. I also don't see why she's writing a letter to get me in seeing as Director Lady is apparently dead set against me moving up into the shelter. Then there's also the fact that this is Bitch Lady. It appears she's up to something because she is the LAST person that I would think to ask for a reference to anything.

"I think you have a lot of good qualities," she says as I stitch my baby blanket, "You're generous and determined...." She trails off and I stop listening. I feel uneasy. As nice as it would be to believe that Bitch Lady is turning a new leaf with me I also know that there has to be something more to it than that. Or at least there should be an apology connected to it.

--mm

My Pretties!

I'm so sorry to have neglected you. I've been sooooooo busy with school and my computer's harddrive broke down. I will be back on updating soon. Computer will be home from doctor's tomorrow.

Day One Hundred and Eight

   ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS****

It's the second day of the job readiness training. I'm ready. In the morning I want to give Bernard my housing application but he's with a youth in the community. I sigh and roll my eyes. Why don't people just sit around and wait for me all day? (jk) ;)

JRT is alright. I don't really know what to say about it. It goes over the secrets on resumes, applications and the like to figure out what is nationally most appealing. It's a lot of stuff I already know from working but every now and then there's something that surprises me. The ginger clan follow me but I ignore them.

The instructor said we can work around me starting school next week if I finish everything in the class this week. So I'm working my butt off to get these assignments done. Bernard said it was up to me if I wanted to continue the class since I'm going to school but I figured it wouldn't hurt. It'll provide productive time and maybe give me an upper hand. Even with school I'm still going to need a job. I don't have my tuition waiver or scholarships this year.

After I finish at the class for the day I meet with Bernard about the final things we need to do before I can get into housing and about getting me an honored citizen bus pass. This will save me a ton of money. Instead of paying over $100 a month for a bus pass it will be $26 a month or $1 per bus ride. I want that. He says he'll look into it.

When I check my email I have one from the college dean saying that my refund for the math class has been approved and expedited. He personally welcomes me back. I want to scream. I don't have to cash my aunt's check! I have been welcome back to school by the dean! I could do cart wheels in the street if I knew how!

I am so thrilled with how everything is working out. I tell my aunt the news and she tells me I can use the check for books and bus passes if I need to. I really hope I don't have to. I'm just so happy that I get to go home to my "print family" and my school. The Flying Spaghetti Monster is looking out for me. Finally.

But no, it will still get better.

--mm