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