Day Forty-Two

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

Apparently, I'm tired because I don't even hear staff until the last wake up call. I don't want to move. I roll myself out of the bed and grab my toiletry bag so I can pee, put in contacts and brush my teeth. I look in the mirror for the first time and realize I look like Medusa. Sexy. I grunt, run a brush through my hair, change. I run out of shelter thirty seconds before I'm "late".

KL and Houdini go to Nafy for breakfast. Since I want my oatmeal I ditch them for OI. KL and I agree to meet at OI for lunch since that's when her ban will be up then Beard Man will take us to get clothes. After breakfast I go to the library. As I'm working on the blog I look down and notice both my arms have broken out in a rash. The joys of sleeping in shelter. Every day is something new. As sick as I am of doctors I know I need to get it checked or else I run the risk of causing an outbreak of something in shelter. I had told KL to meet me at the library if she needed me but I figure she's with Houdini and I need to go before I get someone sick.

I go and tell the clinic I need five minutes with a doctor so I know what's going on with my arm. I fill out the form for the appointment and wait patiently for the receptionist to tell me what's going on. I pick up the Portland Mercury and almost start laughing. Their headlining story is about the lack of public restrooms downtown. It's a rant I was just thinking about with KL being sick and us constantly being without a bathroom. The article discusses how many people oppose having more public bathrooms because of the homeless population.

Isn't that ridiculous? Homeless people have to poop too. And it doesn't seem fair to complain about people being dirty when you won't let them have a sanitary place to pee. I don't know why bowel movements and urination have to be a socioeconomic issues. Couldn't we all appreciate the civility of equal pee opportunity?

Anyways, off my soap box now.

The receptionist at the front desk comes back and says the doctor will not see me since I normally see the lazy eye doctor lady. i just want five minutes and I waited for twenty so I don't see why that's so much to ask. I throw a small fit and they tell me if I'm so worried why don't I go to ER. I tell them if there is an out break of something in shelter that it is on them, file a grievance report and leave.

Back at the library I get caught up on my Dance Moms and Bunners. at 12:50 I head back to OI. I ask Beard Man if he has any sway in the medical clinic. He strokes his beard while I talk to him so I start stroking my imaginary beard as well. He doesn't notice for five minutes. My arms are itchy and unbearable. Of course he doesn't. And of course he's ditching on his date with KL and me because he has the sniffles and has to go to the doctor. So a different staff man will be taking us. Bastard.

One of the other girls comes up and asks me if KL found me. She had been looking for me at the library. Of course. We need to stop missing each other so I vow not to move until she appears. when she does she tells me Houdini disappeared on her again as did S. I feel bad for missing her once again. KL naps while we wait for the staff to take us shopping. While I'm sitting on the bench writing Mother Goose comes chasing one of the other street kids out saying he has an exclusion.

"An exclusion for what?" he yell, "Throwing cards?"
"No, you tried to light the table on fire twice."

I turn around so that they can not see me laugh. The staff guy comes down to take us shopping. Getting KL up is no easy task. Without her Methadone the differences are dramatic. to say she is miserable is a complete understatement. She sleeps the whole drive to the store while T and I discuss psychology and how the hell I ended up at OI in the first place. I wish I could knock out like KL as I'm exhausted too but it's a case of awkward car syndrome where you just can't stop talking.

Once we get to the store though it is a whole different story. It's basically an over sized Plato's Closet with less brand names. KL and I go crazy and fill an entire shopping cart. T sits on a couch while we shop and occasionally comes over to try and hurry us up which he is not very successful at. We are two girls who haven't been shopping in months; we're going to be awhile. He does eventually get us out the door and I feel almost high from shopping. I have really, really missed it.

We go to OI so I can run upstairs and change. Changing bras makes me feel a million times better about life. I've spent 42 days wearing the same bra everyday without a chance to wash it. It's disgusting. Having a fresh clean bra after 42 days...it's kind of a big day. I go back down to the court yard while KL goes upstairs. Mother Goose comes down to close the court yard so I start folding clothes and gathering our belongings.

"They aren't letting me up still," KL says when she comes back down.
"Why?"
"They said I had to do a re-entry thing at lunch. Because I didn't know about it and missed it I now have to wait until Monday."

What. The. Fuck.

When Mother Goose and I have a few choice words for them. More than a few.

"What does it resolve kicking her out like this? Does it really make her regret taking dishes? No. It just breeds resentment. What if you just talked to her and had some compassion for her situation? That'd do a lot more than kicking her when she's already down."

They really don't have anything to say to that.

"But whatever helps you sleep at night," I say as we walk away.

We go to Street Church. I've heard a lot about it but I've never been. It being in a church is a pretty big deterrent for me. Street Church is a program run by one of the churches in the area. Open three nights a week they offer food, clothing, and a place to sit. When I tell them I haven't been before they ask me for ID to verify my age. I think this is weird, I have nothing to gain by lying about my age. They don't say much else to me which is all right. I'm afraid if I sit here too long they'll try to convert me and the New Testament Bible in the middle of the table says I'm probably right.

I'm not hungry but they have watermelon which looks damn good. The kitten peed and pooped on her self so she's rather stinky. I sit her on a pair of shorts that need to be washed anyways. KL eats a plate of hot dogs and water melon before she falls back to sleep. I'm afraid this Methadone thing is either going to kill her or relapse her even worse.

I take the kitten to the bathroom to wash her. Two people monitor the bathroom making you sign in with the time in and out. This is to prevent people from shooting up in the bathroom which I get but you have to admit it's a little odd they track how long it takes you to pee or poop.

I wash the kitten's back off and she screams like it's Chinese water torture. I bundle her up in paper towels and when we walk out of the bathroom people "Aww" instead of kicking us out like they are supposed to. I peek in at the clothing closet they have. It's big. I ask for socks and they give me a pair. I grab a pair of Nike's that look like KL and I will fit and they give me shoe laces.

Even though the kitten isn't supposed to be in there they ask about her and try to feed her baby food and hot dogs. Even though the people are nice the Bibles and podium make it hard to be comfortable. We go to the Dollar Tree while I pee at McDonalds. Crochet Buddy joins us while I'm switching stuff so KL can have the big backpack.

He takes the kitten and meds up for KL. Houdini and I wait for Street Light. At this point I probably spend more time with him than KL does. He genuinely smiles when I tell him about our shopping spree, "I leave you guys alone so you can do stuff like that. She ain't never had a girlfriend before."

--mm