Saturday, June 30, 2012

Services




It has been brought to my attention that the different services I use are confusing to keep track of. I figured they were. There's so many I'm confused about them and I use them. So here's a break down (names of organizations changed to protect anonymity):

 Youth Program-This is the name of the WHOLE program. Every other branch falls under this name.

*You are referred to either #1 or #2 for case management. Not really sure how they decide which program but I'm referred to #1. No matter which you are referred to you can attend both programs.*  

Day Program #1-  is one of two day service programs. This is a place where meals are severed and offers a place to spend your time every other week day. It is completely closed on Saturdays but open all day Sunday. It also provides case management, legal advice, medical clinic, acupuncture, basically any need. You can even get massages there. It's a really awesome program and the staff there are AMAZING! This is where I go for case management and to hang out. They also provide showers, lockers, socks, underwear, hygiene products, etc. Sometimes they help with bus tickets or tickets to see movies. Here are the branches under #1:

Case Management-  Case management is earned not given. First you have to choose a point person. (Mine was Mother Goose). If you check in with them regularly then you can get Beard Man to be your case manager. Once you get him as your case manager you work with him once a week to prove yourself before you are given your real case management.

Education- Education/employment resource center. I've only been there once. They help meet educational and employment needs. When I went to speak with them they said they were moving around their program so I have no resources from them until they're done. Because I have a diploma and work experience I'm "too hire-able".  This is suckage but I think Mother Goose was more mad about this than I was.

Clinic- Free medical care for homeless youth and marginalized population. Provides medical, dental, acupuncture, chiropractic, counseling, massage, pretty much anything you could possibly ever want. Doesn't provide pain meds for obvious reasons though.

Theater- I've never been to this so I don't know a ton about it but it's a theater program for those that are interested in performing or acting or any of that. I do know someone who got some sort of video internship there so it must be pretty good. They pay for their internships. I believe it meets one night a week. I just have never been so I don't have a ton of information on this.

Queer Group- Since I'm straight I know nothing about this but it's a group for the queer population. I know they watch movies sometimes. I imagine they also do group therapy type stuff. Other than that I have no idea what goes on there.

AD Recreation Group- So the AD rec group is generally targeted at those who struggle with adiction or dependency. However, anyone is welcome and if there's a rec group you should always sign up because 9 times out of 10 they are fucking awesome. Some things rec group has done: bowling, hiking, movies, Backspace (the coolest cafe in Portland), and other stuff I can't think of because I'm sleep deprived. I haven't been able to go lately though. Every time I try to something else comes up. :(

Yoga- They hold yoga twice a week in the basement. I enjoy it but haven't been able to go lately because it's either canceled, I'm sick, or I have something else I have to do. The one downside to yoga is it fucking stinks. Homeless kids locked in a small room sweating on dirty mats. Yuck.

Legal Clinic-  free legal advice once a week.

Transitional Housing- There are transitional apartments above the rest of the building. There are two types, one that is more dorm style with personal rooms and the other are studio apartments.

Work Experience- Doggy day care that offers employment for homeless youth.

#2- This is where I was screened the first time. It's bigger than #1 (well the space for us to hang out) with a flat screen television and pool table but it's so loud and crowded and the food sucks. Here's what they have:

Music Program- is a place you can go to play musical instruments. They also offer lessons on how to play for all levels. I go and hang out occasionally but don't do much in the music department. I usually hunker down in a corner and write. They also offer art stuff but I don't know as much about that. Generally they are open three nights a week 6-8pm.

Education- I know nothing about this except that it offers help with computer access, GED, and getting into school.

Transitional housing- I know nothing about their transitional housing program but I hear their apartments aren't as nice as #1.

Case Management- I imagine their case management system is pretty similar to #1 but I know absolutely nothing about it.

Clothing Closet- Random clothes for when you're naked. More or less.

#2 also has rec groups and stuff I think. I just don't know as much since I rarely go there.

Shelters:
Downstairs-  is the "short term" crisis shelter. We are on the second floor of the building. You do not have a guarantee of a bed every night. It opens at 8:45 and for the most part it's strictly first come first serve. The stay is for 2 weeks but case workers can extend it and usually always do. Staff can kick you out of shelter however and often do without hesitation if they feel like it. Provides breakfast and dinner but to get breakfast you have to be up at a certain time.

Upstairs- This is a long term shelter with many benefits. You get to leave later, leave your stuff on the property instead of having to carry it all day, do chores instead of being kicked out, stay up later, have a better selection of movies, do laundry, have pillows etc. Some people leave upstairs because they don't like it. Apparently it is very strict and by the book. Most people still want up there though. 


Private- I don't know a whole lot about the private rooms but if you have a job/ssi/school you can get into them where it will have the same hours as shelter but you will have your own room. 


Other Stuff:
PEAR- Honestly I know nothing about Pear. Jesus said it's like school without learning anything. They offer mentorship but I'm not sure what that means. It's on the other side of town though so I've never been and I hear few people talk about it so I can't speak for it.

And I'm convinced I'm forgetting something...

There are so many different branches and services I don't think I've even scratched the surface of them yet.

Night Twenty-Nine


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



We look all over Portland for Kitten Lady's boyfriend but we can't find him. Kitten Lady gets more and more distraught the more we can't find him, saying he's a bad boyfriend for being MIA when her kitten just died. When it gets later she starts to panic thinking he's arrested. This is why I don't date: too much damn work.

We met up with Drama Girl eventually. She had obviously gone to Macy's to get her make up done and probably somewhere else to get her hair done and was talking about moving with Dreadlocks to North Carolina. I have no idea why she was discussing this but whatever; I tuned in and out and mumbled responses when necessary.

Houdini finally shows up saying he was off making money at Llyod Center. (Making money means spanging. Spanging means asking people for change). He comes with weed so she forgives him. They go off to smoke. I'm worried about her sleeping outside but she says she is going to go sleep with her mom under the bridge so I feel a lot more comfortable about that.

I forgot to eat all day because of the stress of putting Tailia down. I've never been good at eating when I'm depressed or upset about something; I'll forget for days sometimes. But when I get up to the shelter it's nacho night and I devour the food handed out by Flippy Hair Guy.

I'm so tired I go to bed before 10:30. I had agreed to take the box with Tailia in it to shelter as it would be hard to explain if she got arrested. I put her on the foot of my bed as I really only take up the top half. Even though I wasn't really touching her my stomach turned whenever my foot brushed the box. The thought that her corpse was on my bed was disturbing.

I didn't sleep at all the whole night. I tossed and turned and woke up every five minutes;. I constantly looked over at the empty bunk across from me and worried about KL and if she got to the bridge okay. I wondered if she was using but of course the answer was most likely yes and I couldn't blame her with the circumstances.

I woke up with no rest, completely miserable, with a dead cat.

--mm

Day Twenty-Nine

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

It is not a good day to wake up to today. We know what we have to do but neither of us want to do it. In the morning I take Baby Kitten to OI while her momma goes to go get her dose from the clinic. I get my usual eggs, bacon, potatoes, and of course my oatmeal. However, even my oatmeal tastes sticky and sour.

Tailia desperately wants to play so I unzip her bag and let her head hang out even though that means a better chance of staff seeing her. It is heart breaking to watch her as she plays with her front paws, frustrated that the back ones don't work. Kitten Momma comes in earlier than expected because the line is too long for her to dose. I let her eat while I feed Tailia some rice pudding off of a spoon. Some staff lady comes up and starts hassling us about the kitten.

"She's dying," I yelled at her, "Just leave it alone she's dying."

She tells Kitten Momma to put her in the kennels outside where she had been bitten and essentially killed a few days earlier. This makes both of us go ballistic. How can you tell someone to abandon their dying kitten right where she got hurt? The staff lady takes things too far when she tries to grab the kitten from me. I start screaming and smack her hands away from the bag.

"What the hell are you thinking?" I scream like a raving lunatic, "Don't fucking touch her. You can hurt her."
"I'm not hurting her," the lady says swinging the bag up with Tailia's head sticking out. I snatch the bag back as gently as I can, supporting the kitten's head with my other hand, "Are you stupid? She has a broken spine, you can't just pick her up like that. Goddamn."

One of the staff people from the interview comes running to us spouting bullshit about health violations and Baby Girl shutting down the whole organization. "I get that," I say, "But there's a right and a wrong way to do things and just grabbing someone's dying kitten is the wrong way."

I take this whole fiasco as an opportunity to demand bus tickets. Then Kitten Momma has to go back to the clinic to get her dose. Tailia and I sit around the block where a guy selling Street Roots asks me to buy the paper. I used to ignore these people before but now I say, "I am in the same boat man." He starts huffing and puffing and I can't help but think he has a lot of nerve complaining to a paralyzed kitten.

She is content though, playing with one of the giant cotton swabs we took from the doctor's office. A police officer comes by and I am sure he s going to yell at me to move; in his defense I am sitting in front of the most expensive coffee shop in Portland. He doesn't though, and instead asks about the kitten. When I tell him her sad story he tells me it isn't the only one he's heard recently. An employee of a local pet shop down the road from OI had the same thing happen to him recently.

As soon as the officer leaves I go to find Tailia's mom. I tell her what the officer told me and we go right up to that pet shop. We are lucky the guy who was attacked by the pitbull was working and he describes what sounds like the exact same dog and the exact same owners. The pitbull had attacked his lab and ripped him open, causing a $900 pet bill.

We share stories and say we'll be in touch. Many people; employees and customers wish us luck. One old guy gives Tailia a kiss and tells my friend to get another cat as soon as possible, that it will help her heal. With dread there is nothing left to do but get on the bus and begin our journey into a horrible day.

We let Tailia eat all the rice pudding she wants. Instead of putting her in her carrier we hold her in our arms as we travel. We want her to be able to see the world before she dies. I hold her the majority of the time as Kitten Momma was too sad and heart broken to even look at her.

We have some time to kill as our vet lady is in surgery until the afternoon. We go up to the college so I can try and figure out exactly how much I owe. It is closed though and when the campus police officer sees us reading the sign on the door with the hours he starts hassling us saying all too aggressively campus is closed and we need to leave.

I used to live in the apartments right behind the school. I used to come on campus all the time even when it was closed to use the track and even to just hang out. The officer was was lying about us not being allowed to be on the property. Especially since it's a popular bus stop and all I was doing was getting the hours for the financial aid office. I never once was treated by a campus officer like that before. Most of them knew me and would escort me home safely when I stayed late to work on the paper. To me it is the clearest time I've been treated differently because I appear homeless.  It infuriates me.

We decide to go across to the yogurt shop on the other side of the intersection. I buy us a thing of frozen yogurt and when the clerk explains we can't have Tailia in the store I quietly explain the situation and she agrees to overlook her. After we finish eating the yogurt Kitten Momma decides to refill it without paying and people stare which makes me nervous. I really hate stealing. I insist we leave after that because I don't want the clerk to notice she stole after she was kind enough to ignore the kitten. We sit outside of Starbucks to use their wifi and put Tailia on the table.

Kitten Momma feels the back of Tailia's legs and says they are wet. With Q-tips and pressing we get Tailia to pee which is a hopeful sign. If she can pee we don't have to put her down. She may just be a miracle kitty and come back. But, I point out we also don't know if this means her bladder is about to rupture. We just don't know. Anything could happen. I don't want her to get her hopes up but we both know Tailia is not ready to die.

She walks too. When we hold her back legs up with a blanket the kitten will even run. If she can run and she can pee it's possible she may be okay. We aren't ready to give up hope yet. We just can't let her die like this.




When we head to the vet the bus driver says he knows the kids we describe and that they hang out on a certain corner in Portland where they spange for money. He says he doesn't let pit-bulls on his bus if there are kids or small dogs or service animals. He makes a comment about street kids and it makes me cringe. It wasn't even bad, just about how he doesn't like street kids coming on to the bus with big dogs. It still makes me wonder if he has recognized what we are or if he is kind only because he doesn't know.

We are still hanging on to a strand of hope when we get to the vet. We ask her to reexamine the kitten because she peed and walked so that must be some hope. She pushes on the bladder and shakes her head. The bladder is hard and close to rupturing. The little bits of pee are simply overflow. If we don't put her down right away her bladder will rupture causing a painful death. The only humane thing is to put her to sleep.

Tailia's eyes are big and she's sitting up and supporting herself and looking around. She eats Tapioca pudding and plays. She is not ready to die. The vet explains that because she is so young and her back legs are not working she has to do the lethal injection straight in her heart, "You don't want to see that," she tells us, "You don't want to remember her that way."

Poor Momma begins to bawl, "You mean I can't be with her?" The vet shakes her head and says it's a terrible thing to see, but Baby Girl won't even know what is happening. We can be with her for the sedation but then we must say goodbye.

The vet slips behind the kitten and pulls out a needle so huge even I falter looking at. She warns us that it will sting. Tailia doesn't see her coming and when the needle pierces her skin she hisses and throws a fit. In the end it takes all three of us to hold her down so that she can get her injection. She kicks her good legs, screams, bites, and hisses. Three people to hold down a paralyzed kitten; you better believe she was fighting hard for her life.

At this point both of us are crying. I've put animals to sleep before but never before they were ready to die. This is the first time I've seen an animal fight for their life like this. I did not expect it to be like this. I did not expect it to be a shot in her heart. It's not supposed to end like this. The vet leaves us alone to say our goodbyes and I turn my back away and cry.

Kitten Momma holds the baby girl rocking her close to her chest. The kitten's eyes are open and her tongue hangs out and she's so limp she looks like she is already dead. The vet had said the sedation would take five minutes to take effect. I thought we'd have more time with her as the kitten we remembered. But, it's immediate.

"Why couldn't you just pee Tailia?" Kitten Momma cries, "Just pee. Just pee."

It's heart wrenching to put her down over something as small as a bladder. It's unbearable. It's not fair. It's not fair that pit-bull is still alive and walking around and here is Baby Girl limp and dying.

All to soon our vet comes back in and tells us Tailia is ready to go. She is handed over and about to leave the room when I yell for her to wait. I need to say my goodbyes too. Tailia is so limp I almost drop her as I bring her to my chest. I rock her crying, telling her I'm sorry for ever picking her up that day. She isn't even there anymore. I put her against my boob where she used to sleep and rock her, regretting ever removing her from the safety of her mother's arms that day.

I reluctantly hand her back to the vet who will put an injection in her heart, stopping it, killing her. It's not much better than putting her back in the pit-bull's mouth. 

The check out lady from the front desk comes in and checks us out. It will be $50 to have her cremated. We can't afford that, we can't afford any of the things we've done to her so they put her in a box and bring her in. It's just a plain card board box for Greenies pill pockets.

The vet tells us where her head is and that her paws are tucked under her chin. She is curled up in a ball, sleeping. The box is taped closed. We can't see her. We will never see her again. We are still crying. The vet hugs each of us. I'm not much of a hugger but I oblige. She tells us to take as much time as we need before we leave the room. We don't though. We leave immediately, carrying the the brown cardboard box, that carries our dear Tailia's body inside.

It serves as a reminder that fairy tales and Lifetime movies are lies. It is a reminder that justice is a myth. It serves as a reminder that miracles don't happen and you don't always get the happy ending you want, even when you deserve it the most.

-mm


Day Twenty-Eight

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


The first thing I do now when I wake up is ask for an update on Baby Girl. Part of me dreads the thought that she might die in the night. Another part of me wishes that would happen so we wouldn't have to put her down. I cannot believe the strength of this kitten. So many times she should have died. It's painful to see her in so much agony. Neither of us want her to suffer. Yet, all the same I think both of us secretly hope one morning we will wake up to find a peed and walking kitten. We know it won't happen but can you blame us? It's really a terrible predicament.

When we leave in the morning Kitten Momma asks someone for a cigarette. The guy says he doesn't smoke but asks her if she has money to buy smokes. When she says she doesn't he hands her $6. She looks at him and asks, “Really?”
“What goes around comes around.” He says.
I'm always amazed by the kindness of strangers, “You're a good person sir.” I say.

While we are outside waiting for her boyfriend Kitten Momma notices she is missing the bag with the morphine in it for Baby Girl. She goes back up to look for it while I wait with the stuff. Some staff person I don't really know comes out and starts telling me to move because standing outside is not two blocks away. She sees Baby Girl broken in my arms. We've concocted an excellent story for staff saying that she stays with someone in the area at night so they don't suspect anything when she magically appears in the morning. We just insist that we walked one block over to pick her up. No one even asks anymore. Possibly because they know she is dying. Anyone who hassles someone with a dying kitten has got to be a heartless asshole.

I explain I can't move because I can't carry all that stuff. She demands I walk to the max station. I blatantly say no. I will not walk to the max station with all of that crap. It's too much to carry and to attempt to would hurt Baby Girl as she would be thrown around. The lady keeps telling me to go. That's like telling someone in a wheel chair to walk. Okay, maybe not that extreme, but it's just not going to happen. I'm not going to abandon her purse or Baby Girl. Who gives a fuck about policy? I've got a baby kitten in pain. Their policies can suck my nonexistent dick.

When Kitten Mom comes out she reports someone stole the kitten's morphine. We are both livid. Why would you steal feline morphine? We ride the max to the library and then Kitten Momma gets off to get her dose from the Methodone clinic. I head to OI. We were behind on getting out because of the missing bag and I don't want to miss my oatmeal. As I pass the pet shop I notice a kitten about Baby Girl's age in the window. She looks just like her. She's playing and jumping around in the cage. I know it's cruel to think about replacing Baby Girl already but I know Baby Girl kept Kitten Momma going. In all honesty it helps her stay clean. Well, her and my beautiful face. So, she needs another kitten.

After breakfast I ask Mother Goose if we can do the test for my OCLL. I was supposed to do it days ago but with the kitten fiasco it didn't really happen. She throws me on a computer and it takes three tries but eventually we get signed up for the course. She puts me in an office to take the course and OCLL test.

“Not going to lock me in an office and forget about me again are you?” I ask her.

I know, I know I'm hilarious.

With computer glitches and stupid tutorial videos the course takes an hour. When I finally finish I ask if I can get ready for the interview while day services are closed so I don't hold up the bathroom when it's crowded. Beard Man tells me this is of course no problem. I believe they are thrilled just to have someone motivated enough to go to a job interview at all. I get a razor and shaving cream from him and shave my legs on the chair in the bathroom. This is actually quite the task because I do not trust homeless people bathrooms. I can't even tell you how many times I've found pee on the floor and that's not even the worst I've seen. Thus, I don't want to step on the floor at all with bare feet. Still, wearing socks when you shave is kind of awkward. And I'm not exactly graceful. In the end I do touch the floor with bare feet. My foot hasn't fallen off yet though. That Tetnus shot probably helped a bit.

I brush my teeth and straighten my hair then do my makeup. I cover up my scabbed ear with foundation. It hides it pretty well all things considered. I step into my interview outfit. It's a white skirt and blue blouse a friend gave me. The skirt has stains and the blouse doesn't fit right. I'm pretty sure if my gay stepbrother saw me he'd scold me. I wasn't able to get interview clothes with the voucher like I was supposed to. I was too busy with the kitten. I knew if I had to I could wing it in this. My friendships are more important than clothing. I don't care what anyone says.

I'm stressed about the interview more than I thought I would be. It's a pretty solid deal but I'm so afraid the manager will get wind of the living situation and second guess his decision. Any number of things could happen. Not only that I forgot to take my Cymbalta yet again. I can tell because my tremors are so bad I'm struggling to walk. Ever since the incident with Bitch Lady I've avoided taking my meds in shelter. This is really not good because I forget at breakfast. Plus, I can't always find my back up med bottles in the bottomless pit that is my army backpack. I don't like to completely unpack it to try and find it because that screams “Hey look at the stupid homeless kid who can't find her shit.” I don't think there is anything more humiliating than dirty underwear falling out when you're trying to find your wallet.

Putting my backpack in Mother Goose's office and going out in decent clothes and make up is so freeing. I'm wearing my swing dancing boots. God, they hurt my feet so much. It's been so long since I've worn heels my feet aren't quite up to the task anymore. I hadn't worn them in quite awhile before I ended up homeless because let's be real, when I was with my uncle I was surrounded by gay people. I didn't exactly have reason to dress up often. Plus, his roommate kept me good and stoned so not much walking in heels in that state. I feel like going dancing right then. It's not exactly an option but I realize how much I miss in the minimal dressed up state I am in. I don't tend to know I miss things until presented with something similar. I forget sometimes that I had a real life before this.

Maybe I would remember my real life if I actually talked to my friends outside of street life but that's just too god damn hard. I can't bring myself to do it. Even when I think about friends I miss. Talking over phone or internet is just fine. Seeing people in person is excruciating. I don't like appearing weak and vulnerable. It doesn't get more weak and vulnerable than homelessness. And I don't know how to explain away the army bag and clothes and Spencer separation.

Once, before all of this, when I was with my friend Jelly Bean she and I passed a homeless man with a dog. His sign read “Begging Sux. Compassion doesn't.” I looked in his eyes and I couldn't just pass him up like that. It was hot out and we were in Clackamas where there are a lot less resources (to my knowledge) for homeless people. We went to Coldstones to get ice cream. I had Spencer with me and little kids squealed and ran up to pet him. I insisted we eat our ice cream in Walmart where I bought the man and his dog food and a giant jug of water with my food stamps. I never eat the full amount on food stamps. I get $200 and I'm tiny. I could afford to spend $20 on him. It's not like I was losing out on anything.

Jelly Bean used to run an organization that she called H20 something. I think she actually still does some of it when she's not busy with music and her church or boyfriend. She would keep packages of nonperishable food and other supplies with her all the time for when she ran into homeless people. I believe she also passed them out to other people to give. I told her once that I used to be homeless when I was in high school. I just can't bring myself to tell her now even though I miss her. She's not a friend I hung out with all the time but I never failed to appreciate her company despite our religious differences. I know eventually I need to suck it up and hang out with her but it's just not all that easy. Especially when four months ago I was handing out care packages to homeless people with her.

Can you believe that was only four months ago?

When we handed that guy the shopping bags I looked him in the eye. I've always had trouble meeting homeless people in the eye since I used to be one. I saw his hands were dirty and being a germ-a-phobe I tried to curl my fingers away so they wouldn't brush his. I felt guilty for this when my soft hands brushed his rough and dirty calluses. I looked at him and the dog and said, “You better share some of that with your dog.” I've always been a sucker for animals. His face broke in a wide smile and he said “Of course.” He was digging in the bags as we drove away. I don't think I've ever seen someone so damn happy over beef jerky before.

Was that really four months ago? It's impossible to believe how fast things like that turn around. Four months. So much changed so fast. I passed someone with the same phrase on their sign in downtown a few days ago. I instantly thought of that man on the corner. When he brushed my fingers I wanted to tell me I understood where he was at in life. That once I was there before. I didn't though. And I never expected that I would end up there again.

Wow, I'm really getting side tracked on this one. Back to the story here: Job Interview Day. Not nostalgia day. Okay so, anyways. I finished getting ready for the interview right at one pm when services open up. I emerged the old me. Dressed to impress (well, with low standards), make up, hair straightened. I put on my boots and god damn. I did not fit in at all walking around day services. I swear people didn't realize it was me at first. I felt foreign and people stared. I've spent so much time frazzled without decent hair I forgot what I look like when I put effort in my appearance. Not only did I instantly age 5 years (now I look 15 woohoo!) but I remembered I don't always have to look so...unattractive.

I know I discuss this transformation in way too much detail every time I bring back the old me but goddamn it's shocking for me. Appearance may not be everything but it makes a difference in how I feel about myself and where I'm going with all of this.

For lunch it's Toll House cookie dough with Crochet Buddy. This is after four separate trips up and down the elevator for things forgotten upstairs. (I refused to take the stairs because, “I'm too pretty for stairs right now.”) After three or four trips I remembered everything except my antibiotic prescription in the pharmacy but I wouldn't remember that until much later.

The interview took less than five minutes. The only other interview I had that went that fast I already knew I had that job. I told him I hoped to hear from him Monday and he said, “Oh, yes.” I don't want to say that I've already got the job or be too confident. I know that can bite me in the ass fast. But, I feel pretty promising. Maybe the interview went that fast because he decided he hates me between now and offering me the application. Who knows? I don't.

After the interview I met up with an online friend . This was our first time meeting in person though we've talked for awhile and they've been following the blog since it's been up. (No, not from PSC). He bought me a coffee and let me smoke his cigarettes. Marlbrol (yuck.) Like everyone else he got on me about the whole take care of yourself thing. And how I should be in school yada yada blah blah. I have so much potential. I'm a decent writer. What the hell am I doing in a shelter? I could recite these speeches in my sleep I swear.

He slips me $30. I wasn't really sure if I should take it or not. I knew that to be socially acceptable I should try and put up a fight before I took it but I threw my cigarette butt on the ground, stomped on it and took the money. He said he didn't think it'd help much. If you've never been homeless you don't realize how far money can go. $30 to a homeless person is like $100 to a normal person. Especially those who don't do drugs. So far I spent $5 of that money. On cigarettes and a lighter. I splurged and got camel crush cigarettes. I fucking love popping them. It's the best thing ever.

Random factoid: Kitten Momma and I both love popping shit. Bubble wrap, zits, you name it. I can't stand it when I see someone with a zit ready to pop. In fact, about an hour ago while she was getting ready for bed she popped a zit on her nose and had to show me how much pus came out. We're fucking weird as hell. Lmao.

I really should stop with the ADD.

Actually no, some more ADD for you. Currently I am typing this on my laptop on my top bunk across from Kitten Lady's top bunk. She is passed out hard. I can't blame here as she's had an awful couple of days. She does the funniest fucking shit when she sleeps though. She puts her legs in the air and does fucking bicycles or something. It's funny as hell. I had to wake her up twice last night because she almost rolled off the bed. She fell asleep on the bus when we went to the vet yesterday and talked to herself. I think it's hysterical even though I do weird ass shit in my sleep too. Right now she has her hands on the back of her head and her right leg spinning in the air. If only they'd let us have cameras in here. I'd love to show her what she does in her sleep. I wish Transgender Roommate was in here so I could have a witness to prove I'm not lying. My friend does bicycles in her sleep.

Alright so, yes, I got another “stop fucking around and take care of yourself” lecture. And it's not like I can lie and say I've been trying or anything. I mean, everything is out in the open. Not that I would lie. I'm not a good liar to begin with. Just ask the boys I play Bullshit with. After lecture and coffee and taking the money  I head back to the library. It's actually really convenient to get back and forth from that area. Street car goes straight through and Mother Goose and Beard Man give me bus passes any time I ask for them. It's actually easier than taking a car considering downtown traffic. Plus I can stare out the window and have some privacy to myself to think. Kind of.

I know so many people want to help me. I know I'm slacking off. I do. But, I can appreciate the freedom street life has to offer. I can just sit and write or read all day long when I want to. I've been able to write so much more than I ever did in school. About things that I think matter. And people read. It feels better than school sometimes as much as I miss it. I don't know quite what to do with myself either. It's not as easy as just going and getting a job or signing back up for classes. There are a lot more complications than that. It's easy to become homeless. Much harder to not be homeless. Much harder to think about school and work in the situation I'm in. I see things day by day. Not the big picture. The big picture is just too damn big right now.

I meet up with Crochet Buddy at the library and hop on the computer to try and update the internet on the mundane details of my life. I'm three days behind thanks to the kitten fiasco. Then I have to go to OI to get my bag and antibiotics. Time to stop the un-homeless act. I find Kitten Momma and Baby Girl. Kitten Momma says she and Boyfriend fought about the money in my friend's car. I tell her not to stress and that if she believes he didn't steal it then I will believe he didn't and if I believe he didn't so will Savior Man. She says she doesn't know. I tell her to focus on baby girl instead. We never found the pain medication for her. Can you imagine having a broken spinal cord and no medicine?

Inside, I get a lot of comments on my appearance. Compared to the old me this wouldn't be so attractive but compared to how I've been living I'm suddenly hot shit. I have Crochet Buddy help me take my boots off my swollen feet. Then we head towards Starbucks because Kitten Momma has us banned from anywhere else. (Seriously, that girl is banned from everywhere.) We get rice pudding and cookie dough then Crochet Buddy heads off to a date with his exboyfriend and Kitten Momma and I go to Starbucks.

She falls asleep with her mouth open. Someone even asks if she's okay. I explain she's been up for days because of the kitten fiasco and stay plugged in to the internet trying to get caught up with friends and caught up on the blog at the same time. I'm not so great at multitasking when it comes to writing and conversation both.

In shelter Blue Eyes sees a needle sticking out from Kitten Lady's mattress. It's an instant BLA and it's not one I can fight for her on. She starts to cry with her back to me. I'm not sure exactly how to help on this one. Should I let her cry alone or go and try to comfort her? I can't think of any possible way to comfort her. There is really nothing I can say on this one. I want to beg Blue Eyes to let her be forgiven this one time considering everything going on but I know that won't happen. How terrible is that? Tomorrow she will likely have to put her beloved kitten to sleep and then sleep outside.

I'm going to make sure she at least has a kitten to keep her company. I know some might think that putting another kitten in homelessness as a “replacement” cat is cruel. Especially so soon. But, I know what she's going through to some extent. If it were Spencer I don't think I could do it. And she needs something to take care of. It keeps her clean really.

I get so much love and compassion from people. I have more than I need. She has no one that really cares about her. Her mother is homeless. Her boyfriend clearly cares more about his next fix than her. If anyone is willing or able it would be wonderful if someone would send her a care package. One that is just for her with love and care from someone else. I think it would be amazing to surprise her with mail from someone even if it is a stranger. I know care packages help me get through this. I think even a small one with a nice letter wishing her support would do her a world of difference.

I can't imagine what this must be like for her to be doing this without anybody.

--mm

Day Twenty-Seven

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

The first order of business in the morning was to make sure Baby Girl was still alive. I demanded a status update from Kitten Momma the moment I woke up. She barely answered me. She had stayed up all night to be with Baby Girl. She said she was fine but I asked her at least five times before I believed her. Baby Girl pooped which was so encouraging we practically cheered for her.

Next we had to be seen in the clinic for our bites from the fight. The doctor was the same one I saw when I was throwing up. I was happy about that. They decided to have us both in the same room since we were both being seen for the same thing. We put Baby Girl on the exam table while we were being examined. We overtook the doctor's office. I helped myself to peroxide and we both took medical supplies as we deemed necessary for ourselves or for Baby Girl. FYI: Lazy-eye-doctor-lady was totally okay with this.

We were there for over an hour. They took pictures of our bites and documented all our bruising and symptoms. We had to get Tetnus shots which swear to god hurt worse than the dog fight. We played doctor with Baby Girl and screamed with excitement when she moved her back legs. We knew she would pull through.

I'm pretty sure everyone in the medical office came into the room to see us. A social worker talked to us for quite awhile about how he just lost his ten year old cat. People came in to see the miracle kitten who has consistently been supposed to die but has prevailed nonetheless. They laughed as our bags ended up unpacked and we turned the tiny exam room into our home. When we screamed because Baby Girl moved her legs they ran to see what was going on.




We were filled with so much hope and compassion. Every person there wished us luck, hoping and believing Baby Girl would live. We then went to meet my friend Savior Man at Gateway as he was going to give us a ride to the vet in Oregon City for a second opinion. Kitten Momma's boyfriend decided he was going along which I hadn't planned on but he insisted so I bit my tongue and dealt with it. We were taking Baby Girl to my vet because I trust my vet. She is so wonderful I would not trust my Spencer with anyone else.

Houdini also insisted we took the bus instead of the max. This cost us over an hour in time. I was pretty fed up with him. Savior Man picked us up with Spencer in the car. I squeezed him tight. He's starting to gain weight. His uncle is trying to get him fat. <disgruntled face>. I could not let go of him. He stuck his head out the window, he looooves car rides. I never realize how much I miss him until I have him in my lap. Spock is going to laugh at me but I told Savior Man that I think we should shave Spencer. He got really overheated in the sun. He'll get too hot and start panting like crazy. It scares the shit out of me every time. That kid is so damn fluffy.

With high  hopes we walked into the vet's office. We even got my special lady. Spencer wasn't too happy to be there. He growled and dug his claws into my shoulders until I set him down in the exam room. Then he growled and hid under the chair. He could not believe I came to visit and took him to the vet. It was actually a request from the vet that I bring him in to visit when he didn't need an exam or shots. She's adored him since he was a baby but he doesn't feel as fond of her. She wants to see him when she doesn't have to poke him so he won't hate her entirely. Personally, I think the damage may already be done.

She did an exam on Baby Girl and said she was hopeful but she couldn't guarantee anything without an x-ray. The biggest concern was that she had not peed even when her bladder was firmly pressed. I told her to do the x-ray. We waited with fingers crossed for good news.

My wonderful vet came back in 15 minutes later with terse lips and a laptop. I knew. Before she even said, "Not good." I knew. Baby Girl was going to die. She showed us the x-ray and the solid break on Baby Girl's spine. She told us not even a specialist would dare try to fix that. She told us to think of all the people in the world with broke spines and the condition of their lives. I thought of Superman. Baby Girl would never regain use of her back legs. We could put her in a wheel chair but even then her bladder would rupture causing an excruciating death. She said Baby Girl had 24-48 hours at best.

Kitten Momma started sobbing even though no tears fell. Meanwhile, her boyfriend was MIA. I thought fuck this and went out to find him sleeping in the car. I screamed at him to go in to see his kitten and girlfriend. I couldn't believe he left while we stayed and got the news especially after he threw the fit about wanting to go. I stayed out for awhile when he ran in as I wanted to be respectful and give them space. Then I went into the room to hear Kitten Momma saying, "There's no miracle chance?"

My vet lady shook her head.

Kitten Momma said she couldn't do it, not today. She needed time to say goodbye. My vet said she didn't want to be the one to do it but for us to come back in when we were ready to let Baby Girl go and she would put her down for free. She made sure we understood what little time we had and the repercussions for Baby Girl if we didn't act quickly enough. We solemly agreed to the conditions and left the office.

Savior Man started to drive us back to his house so I could take a shower and they could smoke pot. Houdini got his panties in a twist saying they had somewhere to be. In the end Savior Man took them to Llyod Center while I showered then came back to take me. He had driven us all over the planet, let us smoke almost a whole pack of his smokes, and provided pot. Then made two trips back and forth to Llyod.

I do not deserve the amazing friends I have.

While I was on my way back to shelter I got a call from him. He sadly told me money was missing from his backseat. He had done all of that and Houdini possibly stole money from him. I couldn't apologize enough. He told me he wasn't mad. I said I'd pay him back immediately as soon as I got money. He said, "Take care of yourself first." He wasn't even really mad.

The moment I walked into shelter I asked Kitten Momma, "Did he steal money from my friend?"

I believed her when she said she didn't know. If she was going to lie she'd just say no. She was probably more mad than I was. She didn't have good news for me either though. Rumors were spreading that I intentionally shoved the cat in the pitbull's mouth. She told me she didn't believe the rumors. She told  me she trusted me. I told her I trusted her.

I'm pretty sure we both went to bed still raving mad. She fell right asleep though. I stayed up and wrote my statement about what happened when the dog attacked and sealed it in an envelope. Then I talked to one of our roommates I don't quite know yet. I wrote until I could not keep my eyes open because if I didn't I'd go crazy. Then I collapsed into sleep where I dreamed about my friend Jelly Bean and thought about what a terrible friend I've been ignoring everyone in town that have no idea I'm even home.

--mm

Day Twenty-Six

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

I don't know what to say about Day Twenty-Six. Day Twenty-Six is the reason I am behind on blogging. It was not a good day. Not even a little bit. I'll cut to the chase on things and just tell you what happened.

It started out fine. Kitten Lady and I went straight to Fred Meyer where we got rice pudding and cookie dough. I still wanted to make it in time for my oatmeal so we booked it to #1 after we got our first breakfast.

#1 was closed for the day (besides meals) but we decided to lay down for a bit outside in the court yard. A woman and her pitbull was sitting there so I got up to pet the dog. Kitten Lady was still asleep with baby kitten snuggled up under her chin. They were so snug and happy and cute.

The dog was friendly and I had no issues with the owner. I checked the time and saw we had ten minutes until dinner. We were sneaking kitten in and out of #1 by getting her to sleep in the bag after having her run around for awhile before so she would be sleepy. I slipped her out from under the blanket and away from the security of her mother's arms to have her run around so she would sleep later.

Bad move. Bad, Bad move.

I held her as I continued conversing with the dog owner. The dog owner said her dog was good with cats. Because we have been trying to make the kitten not so afraid of dogs I moved where she could see the dog. The owner held the leash tight while I said, "See the doggie kitten."

Everything that happened next was both fast and slow.

The dog owner loosened the leash and the dog began to jump up on me. I yelled "no" and stepped back. I tried to turn and in that moment the dog grabbed the kitten out of my hands. I screamed and hopped down trying to pry the kitten out of its mouth. I put my hand in the dog's mouth to try and shield the kitten from the teeth. In the end I had to use my left hand to pull the bottom jaw down and my right to pry the top jaw up. The kitten fell out fighting and I pushed the dog away from her.

Kitten's Mama scooped her up but poor baby just kept fighting, not sure where she was. I didn't know where the crowd came from but suddenly there were people all around us crowding the kitten. I yelled for them to back up. Covered in blood staff told me to go upstairs for a first aid kit but I told them to bring it down. I wasn't going anywhere.

 After several minutes the baby calmed down and went into complete shock gasping for air. I screamed for someone to give me information to get to a vet. I pushed Kitten Lady through the crowds to get to the vet. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do but I kept pushing her on, "We need the vet. We need to get to a vet."

We went to Dove Lewis, an overpriced bitchy face emergency vet office. They wouldn't let us through to see baby girl until I was approved for "Care Credit", basically a credit card to pay for vet services. I had to apply for it because Kitten Lady is not 21. I thought this was ridiculous, to not let someone see their potentially dying pet until they prove they'll pay. What would they have done had I not been approved?

When we went back to the room to await the doctor's news we had to wait forever. With nothing else to do I paced around the space the size of a walk in closet. A doctor with a British accent came in. She had no good news for us but it didn't sound so terrible because of her accent. Okay, that's a blatant lie it was pretty awful.

Baby Girl could not move her back legs. She may have too much internal damage to live. She wanted to put her down immediately as she did not think she would live through the night. She said she would not drink, eat, poop, or pee. However, when she brought Baby Girl in she was alert. She purred when her momma picked her up. I told her mom I would not allow her to put her down if she was so alert. The vet did say there was a small chance she may regain the use of her back legs as sometimes that happens. Even though a small chance wasn't a lot it was still a small chance. We went against the vet and took her home with pain medication. She said that the kitten may not eat, drink, pee, or poop and these were signs she was going to die no matter what we did.

It was a $200 vet bill.

Before we left we offered Baby Girl water and she drank it. We were encouraged. We bought rice pudding and she ate about her weight in it. I told Kitten Momma that Baby Girl is strong. She will make it. I really believe she will.

--mm

Tailia after the pitbull attack.

Day Twenty-Four (Sickness Continues)

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

I don't think many people consider what happens when a homeless person gets sick. I know I never did. But being homeless does not make you immune to sickness. In fact, we are all the more prone to it as we are in crowded quarters and consistently left exposed to the elements.

Imagine being forced to vomit outside and still having to be on your feet and moving. It's hell. It really is. And I turn into a big baby when I'm sick. Kitten Lady and another girl threw up the other night. Kitten Lady said that staff made her clean out the bucket she threw up in. I think there's something especially cruel about having to clean up your own chunks.

When staff wakes me up in the morning I can barely move. He tells me I can stay until 8:45 when shelter closes but then I'm on my own until 1pm. I don't know how this is going to work. Kitten Lady smuggled her kitten in again the previous night. I ask her if I can stay with her for the day since I don't want to be alone. We go off with her boyfriend, Houdini.

They fight over drugs. He used half of their supply of heroin and wanted to sell the rest but she wanted it for withdrawal symptoms. He asks me if he can borrow $10 to buy some more drugs for them to sell. This is not an easy situation for me. I have no problem loaning $10. However, I don't want to feed Kitten Lady the drugs she is trying to get off of. But, if I don't loan the $10 they will find it somewhere else and that means spanging (panhandling) and I want them to not have to do that so I can have Kitten Lady with me.

In the end I loan the money. We go to the convenience store and I buy ice cream candy bars for me and Kitten Lady. Houdini goes in with me and I hand him my cash back and walk out. The next thing I know is the clerk is chasing him out of the store screaming he stole something. I know for a fact he didn't. He doesn't steal because he is afraid of getting caught since people profile him because he is black.

And I used to think there was no more racism today.

He goes off running while we try to explain he didn't steal anything. If the clerk would tell me what he believed was stolen I would have gladly paid for it even though I know he didn't steal anything. Clerk Man calls the police and we stand there dumbstruck. I've seen more cops in the past 24 days than I have in my life. We tell the police officer that nothing was stolen. He doesn't look like he believes Clerk Man and rolls his eyes. I wonder how many times he has been called for "stealing" at that store.

We wait for Kitten Lady's boyfriend to go buy the drugs to sell. I crochet the kitten a harness and leash with my pink yarn. I have to admit it's adorable even though I'm bias. I lean against a backpack and doze off with kitten laying over my heart. Houdini never returns and Kitten Lady is freaking out thinking he is arrested or worse but she finally gets a call on my cell phone from the dealer saying he dropped him off downtown. She's so mad she wants to kill him. I'm quite frankly too tired to care.

We go to #1 figuring he is probably there. I collapse in a chair next to Crochet Buddy. I can't stand in line or keep my eyes open. Crochet Buddy grabs me some oatmeal but it tastes sour and I barely stomach half the bowl. I go and lay down on the bench outside of day services where there is a sign explicitly saying "Do not lie here." Mother Goose comes out and says I can lay there as long as I want until 8pm.

Laying there isn't all that relaxing though. People walk through yelling and guys keep asking me to scoot over and make room for them. It's disgusting. Frustrated I get pissy and scream at them in my half asleep state. Beard Man comes out and checks on me and says he will try to find an office for me to sleep in so guys won't bother me.

When he finds one I lay down on the floor and pick out a movie to watch on my laptop. It's not as comfortable as the bench but at least I'm left alone. I settle on Mulan. I watch it laying on the floor until the clinic opens. I want my sleeping bag but Kitten Lady has it. I find Mother Goose and she says she hasn't seen Kitten Lady but gives me a soft fuzzy blue blanket. It's so cozy and comforting I can barely believe I'm touching something so wonderful.

I finish Mulan and then clinic opens. They take me back to the doctor and she prescribes me some anti-vomit pills. She also gives me a new Nuvaring and some allergy medicine.  I go back upstairs and ask for oatmeal. They give me four packets. I take the anti-vomit pills and relax for 20 minutes then heat up the oatmeal. I end up eating all four packets I'm so hungry.

I watch a few episodes of Walking Dead in a half daze. The last time I remembered looking at the clock it was 7:50 and I thought shit someone will be coming to wake me up soon.

Except they didn't.

The next time I check the time on my laptop it says it's 10:06pm. I think there's no way that's right. I check my phone and watch it change from 10:06 to 10:07. I look out the window and it's dark outside. oh fuck. I peek around the corner and only see one cleaning lady. No other staff at all. I sneak past her and look down the stairs. There's one lady talking to a group of boys that are obviously street kids.

I have a split second to decide if I'm going to out myself and try to get a bed or stay inside and hope I don't get caught. I decide to try and get a bed. I don't want to freak myself out sleeping inside. I ask the one lone staff left to call shelter. She reports they have one bed open. I have to run for it because they won't hold it for me.

I run as fast as my stubby legs can carry me and my over-sized backpack. I pray to the Flying Spaghetti Monster that I'll make it in time for that bed. I don't know what I'll do if I don't. I am panting and see Bitch Lady standing outside. I grimace. I should have camped at the day program. She doesn't say anything to me and pulls the door shut behind her. I press the buzzer. I have made it in time for a bed. I see Bitch Lady walking upstairs. She's not working with us tonight. Thank you Flying Spaghetti Monster.

When I get up Bald Staff Man is laughing, "They forgot about you?"
"It'll be funny tomorrow," I say, "But right now not so much." I'm laughing anyways.
Vampire Girl takes this as an opportunity to express her hate for staff, "Of course they'd be that stupid."
I ignore her. I don't like her negative mindset about being against everyone. 

I finish the episode of Walking Dead I was watching before I fell asleep, eating oatmeal and crocheting. I'm in bed by midnight. 

I get moved into the smaller dorm by Kitten Lady. This way should she need back up with kitten I can help. Plus, that way I don't have to be alone. She said she had been trying to find me but no one had any idea where I was. She laughs when I tell her I almost got locked in #1.

Had I slept for 5 more minutes I would have never gotten to my bunk. 

--mm


Day Twenty-Three (What Happens When Homeless Kids Get Sick)

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

For the first time in a long time I sleep hard. So hard I don't hear any of the wake up calls and Vampire Girl shakes me awake before I get a BLA. Breakfast has long since been put away. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem but today is Saturday which means nothing opens until 1pm. At 1pm Nafy will open and serve breakfast but their food is not usually good and they don't always have oatmeal.

Thus, I meet up with Crochet Buddy and we head to Whole Foods. I'm feeling nauseated but I don't think much about it since I've been feel sick for days. I've been blaming it on stress, which considering the circumstances isn't a bad guess. We get a personalized size pie and whipped cream for breakfast. We dig in and trade a flash drive back so I can steal music off of his computer while we have breakfast.

1pm rolls around and my stomach is still bothering me. Neither of us are hungry so instead of going to Nafy we catch a bus to Walmart to get yarn. As we are rolling along on the bus I feel my stomach getting more and more sick. I don't do much riding in cars or buses or trains anymore. Usually I only go as far as my feet can carry me. Motion sickness isn't that weird considering I can't remember the last time I rode any bus.

We get to Walmart and I immediately grab Tums which I start devouring the minute I have the in my hand. We pick out $15 worth of yarn. Then I get the brilliant idea to gauge my ears. I don't want big gauges just little pink ones. (In high school I had size 8 gauges for awhile). They don't have any pink ones so I grab some zebra stripes size 10. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

As I'm trying to put the gauges in I realize my ear piercing has completely closed. I force a yarn needle through the hole to get it back in then try to shove the gauge through. I end up dropping the gauge and spend ten minutes cleaning out the floor underneath the mirror I was using before I realize that the gauge had rolled in the completely opposite direction. It's okay though, I just did Walmart a favor as there were several years' worth dust bunnies underneath that mirror.

We try to get the hole open with crochet hooks and various other idiotic things that sounded like good ideas at the time. We drop the gauge again elsewhere and I slide on my belly on the floor looking for it. Crochet Buddy grimaces at how nasty it is to be squirming around a Walmart floor but we are both laughing. The gauge is a lost cause so not one to give up easily I buy new ones. I can't get them through and eventually I realize this is a lost cause and dumb idea; one I should probably let go of.

I'm not feeling so bad when we get on the bus but for some reason the bus ride sends my stomach into a panic. I tell Crochet Buddy we should go straight to Whole Foods because I am going to vomit. I eat Tums and animal crackers but nothing is settling the stomach. I run straight to the Whole Foods bathroom when we get off the bus. I'll spare you the gruesome details but I was in the bathroom for probably about 20 minutes being very sick.

When I leave the bathroom people glare at me as a huge line has formed behind me. I'm shaking so bad my legs can barely hold my weight. I ask Crochet Buddy for Ginger Ale as I don't think I can even stand in line to check out. One sip and I know I'm dead meat. I try to go back into the bathroom but the line is still long. I turn around and a gag doubles me over as I try to get back to the table. I can't find anywhere to puke. The trash cans are all those fancy ones that separate everything for recycling and compost so I'm not sure if I want to puke in those. Gagging I make my way outside.

Outside I spit vomit as far away from myself as I can. I do not want to get it on me as I have no change of clothes. I crumble to my knees and vomit rocking on my heels. I'm sweating and shaking. I'm too weak to even try to get up. I'm leaning on my arms exhausted and disgusted.

People walk past and stare but no one offers help or asks if I'm okay. They just walk on past and leave the small girl puking alone. I feel like a dog puking outside like that while people turn their noses up at me. I don't feel even remotely human. I don't know what to do. As I've already made clear there is no rest for the homeless. Not even while you're sick.

The chunks I blew outside of Whole Foods.


Crochet Buddy and I make our way to Nafy. It's not far but it's quite possibly the longest walk of my life. I end up doubled over more than once or twice. Some guy yells out the window of a car if I'm okay but keeps driving. I dry heave. When we finally make it to Nafy I barely choke out to staff that I'm sick. They tell me to go lay on the couch.

I drag myself to the couch where I see Kitten Lady. I tell her to scoot over, lay in her lap and take the kitten from her. I cuddle with the baby and Kitten Lady rubs my head. "You're so cold." she says. I feel hot and sweaty. Staff brings me a puke bucket and tells me I can stay until 8pm even though they close at 6. Kitten Lady puts a bag under my head when she has to go.

I call Spock and whine that I need mothering. She yells at me to go to the doctor, "You don't just get sick. The entire time that I've known you, you've never just had a virus. You get a cough you get bronchitis. You throw up for days. You should have gone to the doctor when you noticed you were nauseated. You aren't taking care of yourself! You know better your body is the biggest drama queen I know."

I mumble responses, promise to go to clinic on Sunday. I'm miserable. The phone dies and I lay there watching zombies on my computer until 8pm. I make my way to shelter with Spock on the phone. She asks if she did okay mothering, "My mom usually yells at me when I'm sick."
"You did very good mothering." I say.

I was told I can go up when staff arrives so I watch for them. No sign of Kitten Lady or Crochet Buddy. I see August go in and wait a little longer. I don't want to go up early if Bitch Lady is working. I walk around the block then decide I'm too tired for this shit. I press the buzzer and staff lets me up to the red chairs. They let me sign in at 8:35ish. They move me into a bottom bunk in case I have to throw up in the night. I shower. I hang out and watch Austin Powers until about 10pmish.

Emo Kid is back around unfortunately and he keeps shoving chocolate in my face. Finally, I start screaming at him, "I"m throwing up you dumbass the last thing I want is chocolate." He calls me a bitch but then finally leaves me alone.

The only thing in my stomach when I go to bed is a sleeping pill and some tea.

--mm

Day Twenty-Two

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

The productivity from yesterday carried over a little bit into today. Right after breakfast I went to Salvation Army to get my stuff back from when they kicked me out. This actually went without drama which was a nice surprise. They had it in a big garbage bag for me. I repacked it into my duffel bag sitting on my heels outside the strip club on the corner of the street. I felt people staring but I've long since stopped caring about people staring at me.

I took Spencer's carrier to OI where I hid it behind the door. Then I made my way to the library to try and escape into sound proof headphones on the computer and ignore my own reality. Savior Man called while I was there and said I could come visit Spencer and drop off stuff. I told him I would come after lunch. I was actually hungry for once. Lunch was an unsatisfying grilled cheese sandwich that tasted more like salt than it did grilled cheese. I ate it then immediately left to go to Savior Man's house. 

Savior Man is the only friend I see face to face that does not feel awkward. I won't lie, it was hard at first. I was self conscious about the bags under my eyes and my dragging feet. I didn't know what to say or not say. I didn't want pity and I didn't want to burden him but  I had little else to say outside of my experiences. In the end I found he didn't care, or at least cared in a way that didn't provoke pity or worry. Rather than worrying about a situation he cannot fix he tries to help in the ways he can and let's go of the rest. He reassures me I can come or call anytime so I feel less like a burden. Each time I see him we sit around and bullshit while we pass around a pipe of mary jane. Not much different from before, it's just friends hanging out; not a homeless girl receiving pity. I appreciate him so much for this. 

After lunch I went to drop off the stuff from the Salvation Army and visit Spencer as well as pick up some other necessities I've realized I've been lacking. I cuddled with Spencer on Savior Man's bed, if you could call that cuddling. Spencer is obviously very upset with me and this whole shenanigan. He doesn't give me kisses but instead growls, scratches, and bites when I try to hold him. I'm worried he won't forgive me for abandoning him in this homelessness. I wish I could logically explain to him why this is better. Laugh at me all you want but I am having serious attachment issues with my cat. He did give me a half kiss when I left though.

I made it back just in time for dinner which was edible: mac and cheese. After dinner I went to Whole Foods where I could chat with my dearest friend Spock for the first time in ages. She told me I still must upload a post every day because she reads it at lunch.

Waiting for shelter to open I talked to my friend Twitty for the first time in months. She and I have been friends since middle school and while we've gone long periods without talking I still consider her a good friend. She's still in California, where we grew up, so I can't even remember the last time I saw her in person but when we talk on the phone it's like we just talked yesterday rather than months ago. She knew I was on the verge of being homeless last we talked but we haven't talked since I came back to Portland. She asked what it was like in shelter and when I told her the truth about the thing I've seen and experience her voice sounded her disbelief.

"I thought living in shelters would be a lot more glamorous than that."
"No, it is anything but glamorous." I told her, "It's hell. I never even got detention in school and now I get harassed by cops. There's no sleep. There is nothing glamorous about this."

Still, I'm one lucky homeless person. I have the most wonderful friends that make sure I know people care by checking on me and sending care packages. Without them I'd be lost. I don't think I'd make it. I treasure my friends so dearly, more than they'll ever know.

At shelter Bitch Lady was working again so I tried to lay low. Shelter was buzzing though. For whatever reason everyone was in loud and happy moods. It was a nice change. There were no fights. No drama. I sat at a table with a couple of guys I know from playing rummy with but not a whole lot outside of shelter. I pulled out my crochet supplies and worked on a project I had started pre-homeless-ness.

Crochet Buddy got excited and slapped me a high five. He crochets as well and is also offended when people mistake it for knitting. He borrowed a hook and started crocheting some hemp he happened to have. We listened to music together off my computer. Seeing as I was taught my musical taste by my gay step-brother Crochet Buddy and I had similar tastes (he is gay). We enjoyed each others company for the night and decided to have a crochet party tomorrow as it's Saturday, the second worst day of the week.

I think I've found a new buddy with less drama. I went to bed happy and after some tossing and turning and an incident of waking up to yelling and screaming I fell into a nice deep slumber.

--mm

Day Twenty-One

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

On my way to the library today I noticed that the First Baptist Church has a sign stating they are "the heart of the city". Then you look at their doors right next to it and they are gated off with a red sign saying, "No loitering. Church business only. Police enforced." Some heart right?

Day Twenty-One was all about productivity. I met with the AD guy for my drug/alcohol assessment for housing. Because I'm not a junkie it took about ten minutes. Then I finished touching up my resume during lunch. After lunch I met with the counselor which went alright. I don't like her as much as my last one but she seems like she'll do for now. I just miss the bluntness of my old counselor. I don't want pity and I felt pitied yesterday.

After I was done with her I filed the paperwork to get my food stamps renewed. I almost couldn't find DHS and I didn't want to ask for directions but right as I was about to give up I heard a guy talking about food stamps so I followed him.

DHS went surprisingly fast so once that was done I trekked back to the library and finished my resume and tracked down my food handler's card. I looked up the info for liquor license (which I promised to get for the job). It's $25 so Mother Goose said she'll ask ERC to pay for it. So I have to wait for that to get done before I can go any further on that.

After dinner I grabbed Vampire Girl and went to Playdate PDX to drop off a hard copy of the resume and application. I was freaking out because I accidentally sent it from this email address which obviously I don't want employers to see. If it bothered him though I couldn't tell. He looked happy to see us. When I asked him how the day had been he said, "No unruly mothers today so that's good." I told him we scared the moms off. I asked if we could play and he was more than happy to let us go for it after scheduling an interview for Thursday at 3pm. Vampire Girl and I are not as young as we once were though (lol) we tired out pretty fast. I kept sticking to the slide because I got so sweaty.

When we left Manager Man wasn't looking too happy which made me nervous but I tried not to think it was directed at me. Still, I'm nervous about this one. I want this job pretty bad.

We met up with Kitten Lady and a couple of others and went to Fred Meyer for a cookie dough feast. I bought cookie dough and yogurt then let Kitten Lady slip her rice pudding and cookie dough into the bag. I'm not stealing but I'm definitely helping it happen. I don't know what that says about me but my food stamps are low and she needs to eat. What would you do?

We ate at the fountain which turned into drama when I called Jesus out for calling me a bitch to Vampire Girl. It turned into a screaming match in which he accused me of helping him out as a way to get my computer fixed. Needless to say I'm done with him. I did everything I could to help him and be a good friend to him. He bullied and belittled me in return. All of that seems a little much just to get a computer fixed.

My night didn't get any better when I saw Bitch Lady was working. I am still determined to get that woman fired if it kills me. They kicked Rocky out of shelter because he was walking with his shirt off because he was Nair-ing his armpits. I thought this was ridiculous and told staff so. There has to be something besides kicking people to the streets. It's always the most vulnerable too: girls or guys like Rocky who dress in girl's clothing.

Standing up for him almost got me kicked out of shelter but I was so angry I didn't care. It's not fair. We get bullied by people all day long for being homeless. Then we get to shelter and get bullied and tossed around just because people get off on power trips. It's not fair and it's not right. So Rocky wasn't wearing a shirt? So what? Why not just give him a really boring or gross chore to keep his bed rather than throwing him out to Russian Roulette outside where anything can be done to you by anyone?

Blue Eyed Staff Man kept saying how the job was shitty you get fucked up sleep blah blah blah so people wouldn't do the job if they didn't care. I was not having that bullshit.

"Yeah, except for you only have to do it for fifteen hours! When you're done you go home and go to bed. We don't. We do this everyday. All day. And we didn't chose to be here in the first place. You picked the job. So, you have no idea what fucked up sleep is. You get to go home and sleep in a real bed with pillows when you're done. We don't. We lay down for five minutes and cops wake us up and yell at us. If you're so keen on kicking people outside you should have to sleep outside.  See what it's like to be us for a day."

In the end I got sent to bed which was fine I was on my way to bed anyways. It's ridiculous though. We are  already down on our luck dealing with shit way more complicated than the average adult's. Then we get bullied outside and in shelter. There's no way to win. You get used up. You get beat up. And it doesn't matter. No one gives a fuck about us and we are left fighting for ourselves on practically no sleep. But, staff has it "hard" because they work fifteen hour shifts. If even staff in the shelter can't treat us humanely who can?

--mm

My Wise Brother

My biological brother and I have never been close. We've had our moments but for the most part we don't talk. I think he separates himself from me because he believes his lifestyle of drugs and alcohol is a bad influence on me. He's probably right but he's never seen shelter life. Then again he doesn't even know I'm here. I didn't tell him I'm homeless or that I spent a few months with our estranged father in Alabama. I started ignoring his facebook posts as he's gotten back on drugs so we've stopped talking all together. But once on Thanksgiving day 2009, while he was sober he gave me the best advice I've ever received. It's how I have tried to live my life since then. He told me via text word for word:

The day you realize that's just the way things are is the day our family problems won't bother you anymore. You just have to realize you want to be better than the rest of our family. That's my drive for everything in life these days. It's all about your perspective. A lot of people won't understand the way our shit is but you can never think you have it bad because there's always someone out there that has it way more fucked up than you. I made a choice a long time ago that I'm going to do whatever it takes to not end up like our parents. I made some wrong choices but I wouldn't change it. That's why I want to see you in school because you don't need this bullshit. If you ever need anything you just let me know and I'll come out to you. But don't ever trade school for a job because it ain't worth it. 

I <3 my brother when he's sober. And he is why I remember not to complain or mope about how bad I have it. I have things a lot better than a lot of people. Hearing the stories in shelter I know that for a fact. I have no right to complain. It's why I gave up on Jesus. Thinking you have the worst life in the world will drive you crazy. You have to remember there's always someone you can help, who has it worse.

Never think you have things bad. It doesn't help anything. If you don't like something in your life change it or stop complaining. If you can't change it change something else to make it easier to live with. But, don't complain. Complaining only makes it so people can't stand to be around you and you can't stand to be around yourself.

Why waste time throwing pity parties when you could be outside living?


--mm

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Day Twenty-Five

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

In the morning I help Kitten Lady sneak Tailia, the kitten, out. I put her in my cleavage and then wrap my new blue blanket around us. I go up to the desk to get my phone and the kitten starts squirming. I pray to the Spaghetti Monster she doesn't meow. Bald Staff Guy doesn't notice and we slip outside undetected.

Once I get to day services I see Mother Goose and say, "Guess who woke up to a very empty building last night?"
"You?"
I nod.
"That's funny because I totally thought about that last night."

I eat breakfast then Crochet Buddy and I go to the library. When we come back for lunch Beard Man is there and greets me with, "Morning sleepy head."

I'm happy that staff finds this funny. Staff I don't even know are teasing me about it. I'm thankful I'm in an organization that has a sense of humor. I regret ratting myself out and going to shelter. I should have slept in the building. Even Mother Goose says, "You would have probably gotten more sleep here."

"Yeah, now that everyone is laughing I regret going to shelter but I wasn't sure you'd find it funny."
"Well it was our fault." Mother Goose says, "not yours."
"You never know though." I say.

They ask me to sit on a panel interview for a case manager. They say they try to have youth sit on the interviews since it affects the youth more than anybody who they hire. I admire this so much I'm willing to give up recreation group to sit on the panel. There's a group of us and they have me ask questions as well as the rest of the group. When the interviewee leaves all eyes turn on me and I'm asked what I think of her.

"Do I have to go first?" I ask.
"Yes, you're the most important opinion here."
I think, "She could do the job but she doesn't have the same vibe as everyone else here. There's not one staff member I don't like here because everyone has a certain vibe and attitude. She doesn't have that. She looks too much like a therapist."
They laugh and ask me to explain how she looks like a therapist.
"Well she's wearing work pants with clogs, only a therapist would do that. Plus, the felt purse."
They start laughing and someone says, "Looks like she has a lot to teach us about fashion."
"I was taught how to dress by a gay man; I can't help it. I even have the Itunes of a gay man."
The gay man on the panel cheers.

I am happy that this place exists. I am happy for how they treat the street kids. I am happy they actually listen and care so much about the youth's opinion on who they hire. I feel honored that they asked me and happy that I could be the voice for everyone. This confirms the fact that staff and youth both trust me. Most of them agree with my analysis and she becomes choice #2 should the first one not take the job. I'm surprised by this. They actually listen. Imagine if they listened to youth point of views when it came to staff at shelter! It would be a completely different world!

At dinner Crochet Buddy finds a pound of abandoned yarn in the donation box so we grab it and put it in his locker. If I would have seen it the day before we wouldn't have needed that trip to Walmart. Still, it's a major score and nice soft yarn too.

With it starting to rain and there being nothing better to do we go to Whole Foods. He steals some of my Disney movies off of my computer and I get some of his. I catch up with some friends I haven't talked to in awhile and receive and email that really touches me.

People amaze me. Of all the things that surprise me the most about street life it is not the cruelty of people that we see day to day but the compassion of those who know we can never pay them back.

--mm

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Day Twenty

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

I am so happy I finally have good news! Good karma is finally catching up to me. It's about damn time! I don't have a lot of time to tell the full story. I have a very, very busy day today but let me tell you, this is the second time everything has turned around thanks to a cat.

This time last year Spencer was about 10 weeks or so and weaning off the bottle. He really did turn my life around as any of my friends can testify I am happier and healthier through the bond I share with him. Right now Kitten Lady's cat is in the exact same stage Spencer was a year ago and she just as equally changed my life.

I have been feeling much better since I've been able to interact with the kitten every day. Once I nuzzle her down in my bra I can feel my pulse slow and the weight lifted off of my chest. And now she has done so much more than that. But, I'm jumping ahead of myself here.

While I was sitting in the library yesterday Jesus came and set a Mexican cola in front of me. Peace offering I thought while he opened the bottle with his teeth, which never fails to make me cringe. I was getting caught up on my Dance Moms (don't judge) and when it came time for lunch I asked him if he wanted to walk with me. We walked together but didn't say much. It was nothing like before.

After lunch he, Vampire Girl, and I decided to hang out. Jesus was being moody and not going with the flow like Vampire Girl and I do. We were going to try and find a place to swim but to no avail. Jesus was being difficult. He and I started rough housing over his stupid fake gun and he intentionally dug his fingers into my bad wrist to hurt me. Vampire Girl and I decided to just leave him and go to Safeway where we got ice cream for lunch.

She wanted to go back for Jesus. I didn't. We went and sat on the pavement with him and she gave him the extra ice cream cone I wasn't going to give him. I was laying down with my arm covering my eyes when the cops walked up; for the third day in a row someone had called on Jesus because of his stupid fake rifle. Vampire Girl was not happy about this and went off both on the cops and on Jesus. I know she was acting immature but the cops were even worse, calling her a brat, threatening to cuff her, and yelling in her face. The female officer went to run background checks on us.

The male officer kept bothering Vampire Girl until I finally said, "You know that's really not helping. I understand she is acting immature but yelling and telling her to 'shut up' doesn't really help. It only adds fuel to the fire."
"Well if you act like a brat I'm going to treat you like a brat."
"What does that resolve?" I asked.

The officer could not answer me. When the other officer came back she told Vampire Girl, "I'm going to let you go since you've had such a terrible life I'd probably treat people the same way if I had your life."

I was so disgusted I immediately called the police department and filed a complaint on Vampire Girl's behalf. That last comment went way over the line. Jesus decided to act like it was our fault he got the police called on us and went off to throw a pity party by himself.  Vampire Girl and I were more than happy to be away from him.

We went to the water front and jumped in and out of the fountain then went to dinner. After dinner we got Kitten Lady and went to my favorite happy place Playdate PDX.

People complained about Kitten Lady's kitten so the assistant manager came to ask us to leave. She wasn't going to put up a fight about it but I did.
"She's a service animal." I told him.
"Well I need some paperwork." he said.
"Actually, according to ADA law you cannot ask for any form of paperwork or identification, nor can you ask what her disability is. You may ask what service the animal provides but that is all and I will tell you she has the animal to help keep her calm from PTSD."
"Well I can ask you to not be in this area." He said.
"Actually, you can't. But, I will be more than happy to go and prove this is the law."

Kitten Lady was telling me to shush afraid he was going to call the cops on us or something. I told her to chill. I had it covered. I plugged in my laptop and was about to pull the ADA laws up for him when he walked back.
"I just want to apologize. I looked it up and you're completely right."
I grinned, "Hey, thanks for apologizing that's mature. It's her animal though so apologize to her."

He apologized to Kitten Lady then started chit chatting with me. He said he had seen me there before with and without kids. I told him about how I used to nanny and what not. He asked if I still nannyed and I said no, that I just borrow people's kids when I want. He left and came back with a job application, "Well, since you're not nannying anymore I wanted to offer you a job here. You seem good with people and I like people who can teach me something."

I had no idea he was actually the assistant manager soon to be head manager. I about died on the spot.

We were so happy that we danced and yelled in the street all the way to shelter. We talked loudly about it in front of Jesus who sat tugging on his hair. I went to bed tired but happier than I have been in months.

If I get that job I am buying that cat the fluffiest, pinkiest, prettiest damn cat bed I can find. I have literally been saved by a cat for the second time. Bring on the cat nip!

--mm