Day Ninety

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

I don't wake up until after one in the afternoon. I can't remember the last time I was able to sleep in. Baby Mama makes everyone breakfast. I eat and the next thing I know I'm asleep again. Baby Mama wakes me up at five in the afternoon. I have to go right then because I need to go by Savior Man's house before I go to shelter to pick up my debit card.

I get to Savior Man's place right before he's about to leave to go see a movie. Spencer gives me a kiss and I hold him for a minute before I have to go. Savior Man tells me that I can leave some stuff to pick up tomorrow. I need to take Spencer his cat nip and new collar.

I get back on the max to go to Whole Foods where there is a group of street kids hanging out. Gold is getting into transitional housing in the morning. Stripper Man and her are broken up again at the moment. Stripper Man called her a bitch so she punched him in the nose. When we walk to shelter we look at the blood stain left behind. It's an impressive blood splatter.

At shelter dinner is red beans and rice. It's a nice surprise. Beans and rice isn't exactly gourmet but it's not pasta. I'm thrilled. Director Lady asks me about Baby Mama's apartment. She is excited for her. I really like Director Lady. She is one of the few that really does care.

I eat then go to sit in my dorm and use the internet illegally. I work on editing my friend's crochet book and my blog. When I have to go in my locker Ginger's girlfriend calls me a bitch. I snitch her out to staff. They're going to let me switch bunks tomorrow when Gold gets out of shelter. I crochet in the dark until I fall asleep.

--mm

Day Eighty-Nine

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

I get up at nine to call Bernard. He answers the day program phone and I mutter sleepily that I got arrested.
"I saw that." He says.
This wakes me up a little bit, "What do you mean you saw that?"
"PDX Mug Shots online."
I groan.
"What happened?" He asks.
"I got caught stealing."
"What were you trying to steal?"
"Clothes."

I ask him what to do about court. I've never been in trouble before; I have no idea what to do. He walks me through the process and says they'll probably give me a plea deal. He tells me to take the plea deal if it's offered. If they are not going to give me anything I can plead "not guilty" to get an attorney. He says he'll keep his phone on him so that if I need to I can call him. He tells me to ask the judge to give me a break so I can call my case manager should I become overwhelmed. "It'll be okay," He tells me, "It's a small charge, it doesn't have jail time and we can get it cleared off your record."
"Was my mug shot at least cute?" I ask.
"You look stressed." He says.

Baby Mama feeds me breakfast and tells me to ask for another night out so I can actually sleep at her place and get some rest. I eat and get on the bus to go to downtown and go to court. All I have are sweat pants and a t-shirt but Bernard told me not to worry about having nice clothes, to just wear what I have.

When I get to the court house I have to go through scanners and security. I ask what I'm supposed to do and the police officer only tells me to go upstairs. I stand there for a good ten minutes before I realize I'm supposed to check in at a window. When I get up to the front desk I tell the lady I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. She tells me everything so fast I tell her, "Hey, hey slow down. I'm brand new."

She tells me that my charge has been brought down to a violation. She tells me that I will go into the court room, write my name down on a piece of paper, then I can enter my plea with the judge. I'm still not confident in what I'm doing when I go into the court room but I write my name down and take a seat. I start to get my crochet stuff out but before I even have time my name is the first one called.

I stand before the judge at a table with the microphone. I tell the judge the same thing I've told everyone else; I don't know what I'm doing. He tells me that's a good thing and walks me more thoroughly and slowly through the process. He says I can pay a fine, do community service or become involved in social services. He says I can do social services if I am an addict, mentally ill or homeless. Before he even finishes I say, "I'm homeless sir. I was working three jobs and going to school and got sick and lost everything. I was a 4.0 student. The only reason I'm here is because I lost my job after surgery." I tell him the programs I am involved in. He tells me all I have to do is go to those programs and obey my case manager and they'll drop my charge. He asks me for my plea and I look at him feeling kind of stunned. I stutter and he tells me to plea guilty. I have a hard time making my mouth form the word, "Guilty." He tells me to meet with a social worker sitting in a corner.

I go and sit next to the social worker and she asks me about the situation.  I explain everything to her and she says, "You didn't really do anything wrong. This whole thing is no fault of your own. You were just doing what you had to do." She tells me, "This is a good thing. You're going to have even more resources now. We're going to help you."

The judge reads off the agreements after the social worker and I decide them. He says I have to come back on October 22. If I've done everything right and kept my nose clean by then my charge will be dropped. If I don't there will be a $500 fine. "There will be no fine sir," I say.
"I know." He says, "I just think it's only fair I warn you."
"Thank you sir."

When I walk out of the court room all of this finally hits me. I got arrested. Anyone can look up my mug shot. All the same, I'm okay. I didn't even get a slap on the wrist, nothing. All I have to do is get my shit together. I'm okay. I am not laughing. I'm so overwhelmed I have to sit for a minute, I think I will cry but I don't. I walk to #1 to talk to Bernard.

When I get to #1 the front desk tells me that Bernard is in a meeting. I ask them to tell him it's me. He sneaks out of the meeting. That's how I know he's a good case manager. He actually takes the time for me when I need him. He asks me what happened. I tell him and give him the social worker's card. He tells me he'll get in touch with her. I ask for bus passes and if I can get another night out. He tells me I can stay out again as long as I don't get arrested.
"So what do you just sit online all day waiting for clients to pop up on mugshots?"
"Naw," He says, "All the case managers check it in the morning to see if any clients got arrested."
Shit. "I bet some jaws dropped on that one."
"Yeah. We were pretty worried."

I go to Savior Man's house and take a nap with Spencer. He plays online games on his headset while I sleep. When I wake up he tells me my arch nemesis from our old job says hi. "You didn't tell him I was arrested did you?" I ask him.
"No, but he can hear everything you're saying."
"Oops. Fuck."

I give Spencer some more attention then go to meet Baby Mama at the mall. I meet up with her, her boyfriend and his friend. We go shopping at the dollar store where I grab a kid's tooth brush and bubble gum tooth paste set. At the check out I discover that my debit card was left at Savior Man's house. Baby Mama's boyfriend, Turk gets the toothbrush for me.

I buy groceries for dinner and breakfast. Baby Mama cooks us burritos. I eat a bunch then go outside and smoke a blunt with the boys. We smoke outside so it doesn't get in Baby Mama's system with the pregnancy and all that. After we smoke I go to what will be the baby's bedroom and lay on the floor to watch Coraline. It's not even past the opening credits before I'm asleep.

--mm

The Most Humiliating Blog Post You Will Ever Read (Day 88)

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

My morning starts out the way I wish every morning would. At breakfast there is a box waiting for me and inside is $50 worth of Jelly Belly candies: dinosaur eggs, pet alligators, pet dinosaurs. I am surprised by how much Joy sent me. I was only expecting a few of each but this is enough to give some away and still have plenty to last me.

I shuffle through the box all through breakfast. I don't eat any of my treasured candies I just flip them around in my hands over and over again. It's the feel of home between my finger tips. Bernard asks me what it is when I go to talk to him at the front desk. I show him the candies and tell him about my childhood growing up with my own Willy Wonka in my backyard.

One of the guys comes over and looks in my box. “What is all this?” he asks as he peeks in.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Bernard warns him, “M will bite your hand off.”

“Oh shit,” The guy says, “I know she will.”

“I haven't had them since Christmas,” I say, “No one better touch these.”

“Had what? A machete?” the guy asks.

“Naw, I always have one of those in my back pocket.”

Kitten Lady is asleep outside. She looks small, sad and pathetic like a little kid lost in a shopping mall. I don't want to talk to her or hang out with her but I want her to know I still care. I drop a gummy alligator in her wheel chair and hope no one steals it from her.

I chat with Beard Man for awhile to kill time. He mentions that he used to play water polo. I'm surprised we've known each other eighty something days and have still not discovered we both played the same sport in high school. It makes sense though and I'm surprised I didn't guess it before. He has the broad shoulders and general build of a water polo player. Plus, he has some aggression issues. He asks about my gators and dinosaurs so I tell him about the factory. I tell him to ask me anything he ever wanted to know about jelly beans. He asks where they came from. I explain how no one knows their exact origin but they suspect it comes from the European treat Turkish Delight.
“You're a nerd.” He says.

“My childhood was awesome.”

I ask Bernard for a night out to stay at Baby Mama's new apartment. She has furniture now so she's ready to break her shit in. I have a couple of errands to run in downtown before I go. I need Director Lady to let me into shelter so I can get my toiletries and a change of clothes. I also need my bank card and food stamp card that I forgot in the morning. Once I get my bank card I want to buy a new backpack from Ross. Mine is duct taped together and killing my back. Ross has a really nice backpack with a laptop pocket and the cushions that help release the tension off your back. It's $20 but that will save me about $400 should the bottom of my other bag rip open and kill my laptop. Plus, it'll be a good investment for boosting.

Director Lady can't let me up until 5:30pm so I kill time until then. I go down to my various spanging spots but they are all either taken or there's not enough people there to be worth my time. I look up jobs online but this quickly overwhelms me. I used to be so good at filling out job applications and getting through interviews. If I wanted work I got it. Now, just looking at Craigslist for jobs is too much for me. I don't even really know why.

When Director Lady finally lets me up I give her one of my gummy alligators. She is ecstatic. She says she thought they'd be small alligators but clearly they are not; they are almost a foot long. I get my things I need and chit chat a little bit before I head out. Her sidekick is outside unloading a van full of groceries. “Does this mean we might not have lasagna for awhile?” I ask him and he laughs at me.

I take the max to meet Baby Mama at the mall. We ride the max until we can transfer onto a bus that will take us to Walmart and the Dollar Tree. We go to the dollar store first to see what we can get for a dollar or with my lovely five finger discount. She tells me if I steal her silverware and baby stuff she'll pay me back for them. She doesn't have to pay me to do it, I'm happy to try and help. I need practice stealing.

I steal her a bunch of butter knives but they don't have any other silverware. I get her baby wash cloths and other baby supplies. They have some Jelly Belly flavored lip balm so you know of course I grabbed some of those. Baby Mama pays for the house supplies she's buying then we head out to Walmart.

We see a stack of t-shirts sitting out for $5 a piece. They are ridiculously cute and I want them bad. I get greedy and grab one of each. I have really been needing t-shirts. My chub is making it hard to fit in a lot of my clothes and my boobs have been getting out of control.

We finish up and check out. Baby Mama is $14 short so I slide my debit card and tell her to get it back when she can. We walk out the door and I'm smiling until someone crashes into my cart. It scares the shit out of me. He pushes the cart into me and says, “Walmart security, you need to come with me.” My mouth just hangs there. I have no idea what to do in this situation.

“What's going on here?” Baby Mama yells at him.
“She has been stealing from our store,” the guy says, “How old are you?”

Before I even have a chance to answer he yells at Baby Mama, “How old is she?”

“I don't know.” She says, even though she does.

“You've been shopping with her all this time and you don't know how old she is?”

She shrugs, “Can I just get my bag and go?”

Bless her. If she just picked up her purse and walked away she'd be walking away with all the proof I had stolen anything. I'll be free to go.

“She put things in your bag.” He says.

“She did what?” Of course Baby Mama knew that I put things in her purse. I wouldn't have done it had she not given me permission to. She pretends she had no idea so well though that I forget she knew for a second.

They drag us into a back room and tell me to give the stuff back before they go through my belongings. I figure my best chance is to just do what I'm told. I'm nervous but not nearly as nervous as I should be. Baby Mama takes her stuff and leaves as if she cannot believe I stole anything while she was with me. This is all preplanned too. She's not being a bad friend; we had a deal that I wasn't going to let her go down for anything I stole. She's due in five weeks, I'm not going to let anything happen to her.

The guy begins counting out the dollar amount of everything I stole. Another one of the under cover guys pulls in another girl. She is about eight feet tall with long brown hair. Her makeup is done up and she's wearing a low cut top that barely goes past her belly button. I guess immediately that she is a stripper. My t-shirts come up to $30 and she has $94 in makeup hidden in her purse.

To say that my tremors are bad is no joke. I'm pushing my hands between my knees to try and keep them from showing how much I am shaking. I keep thinking to myself I will not break. I will not cry. I will not be ashamed. I will not break. I will not cry. I will not be ashamed. I'm so sick of people telling me that I should be ashamed of myself; that I am subhuman all because of a lack of zeroes in my bank account. I do not want to sit here and hate myself for trying to get new clothes. I'm not going to be embarrassed that I too want nice things.

I'm not even going to pretend I felt bad for the other girl getting caught. I was thankful. I did not want to go through this alone. She is a godsend. The way she starts talking to me everyone thinks we already knew each other. She jokes around and starts annoying the security officers. She keeps saying, “How could I be so stupid?” but she has a big smile on her face. She asks me what I stole and why I stole it. I tell her the truth, that I stole just to get some new clothes to feel good about myself since I'm homeless. She looks me up and down and says, “You could strip. You'd make a lot of money.”

She asks the security guards why I have to be arrested too when she stole $100 and I only stole $30. They tell her it's the same charge when it's under $100. A new law recently passed in Oregon requires theft three charges to be booked and released at the jail instead of just cited at the store. “Cops hate it,” he says, “They have to waste time booking and releasing you instead of taking care of real problems.” They can hold us for one hour after they make the police call. It is the last priority of the police department to take care of things like this. If they don't arrive within the hour we are free to go.

I appreciate her trying to help me out by asking why I couldn't leave. I don't usually have people to look out for me; it's nice to have someone watching out for me instead of me trying to to take care of everyone else for a change. She says she didn't need to steal; she had money. When the police officer comes in five minutes later he asks if we know each other because we're laughing when we really shouldn't be. He's searching me while he's asking this. She winks at me and says, “No, I'm just being a brat.”

She keeps asking the police officer questions about going in for being booked and released. She must know the answers though because she's been through it before. I can only suspect that she is asking to put my mind at ease. Now that we know we are being booked she tells me, “You better get your lip gloss on girl; we're about to be in Busted*!”

He cuffs us and takes us to the police car. “Do we have to walk through Walmart so everyone can see us?” the stripper asks. The police officer offers no alternative. The loss prevention guys say, “You're in Walmart. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

While we walk through the store in front of people I stand straight and look at the back of the police officer’s vest, not the ground. I keep thinking I will not be ashamed. I will not be ashamed. If I'm going to be arrested it's going to be with dignity. I get in the police car first and the officer buckles me in. Before he shuts the door I hear the security guard ask, “Can we get a discount at your work?”

The stripper has to cram into the police car. She does not fit. It's like trying to shove all your laundry into one of the small shelter washers. It just doesn't work. Once she's in with the door shut I ask her, “Did they really just ask you for a discount to the strip club?”

“Yeah. I'd give them a lap dance right now if they just let me go. Sleaze balls.” She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, getting a girl arrested is not a way to get favors at a club.” I say.

“No shit.”

We talk the whole way to downtown. She has two kids: one and a half and five years old. Her oldest is a boy; youngest a girl. She still breast feeds the girl which is commendable. I know I'm stereotyping but I never really thought of strippers as being the best parents. She talks about her babies so much I develop pictures of them in my mind. I can tell she loves them more than anything in the world. She asks me about my parents and how I ended up here, in the back of a police car on a Tuesday night. I tell her both my parents are far out of the picture. I say, “I don't talk to them. They did a lot of fucked up shit to me.”

“You know that's not your fault,” She says which makes me wonder if she can guess what that fucked up shit is. Stereotyping again, but I can imagine she knows what fucked up parents are like.

She asks me to scratch my nose with the bill of my hat. I stick my head forward and let her rub her nose against my hat until the hat falls off. She tells me I'm a sweetheart. She starts messing with the police officer asking him, “Are we whining too much?” about our complaints that we don't fit quite right in the car and the handcuffs hurt our wrist and we're cold and we're tired and we're....

She asks him if he thinks stealing is people being greedy or a sickness. He doesn't answer her. She asks if he ever stole before and he shrugs, “Never had a need too.” Spoiled rich white fuck. She tells him she'll pay him $20 to put lip gloss on her. He ignores this.

She keeps conversations flowing and laughter going all the way to the police station downtown. I'm already trying to think of where I'm going to sleep tonight. It's 10pm. The book and release process takes 4-6 hours. This means I'm likely going to be let out after the max stops running. I can't get into shelter after 11:30. I have no idea what I'm going to do. She tells me, “Girl, you're going to be alright.”

When we pull up to the police station the officer puts my hat back on my head. I thank him. We are searched and un-cuffed by a female officer. My wrists are swollen from the cuffs and my carpal tunnel. I shake them out. They tell me to take my shoes off. When I do I apologize; my feet reek. “Honey, that isn't anything,” the female officer tells me. I have to take off my jewelry. On my finger is the only thing that really means anything to me: my grandmother's ring. “Please,” I tell her, “Please don't let anything happen to this ring. It was my grandmother's. Please.” She promises me it'll be safe and they'll give it to me when they release me.

We are told to sit in the front row of some chairs in front of a television. I sit next to her. We chat the whole time about her kids, stripping and just some straight up nonsense. They take us to the back to get our finger prints and mug shots. I smile big when it comes time for my mug shot but some voice sounds from the ceiling barking at me, “Lips together, no smiling.” I still try and smirk.

They lead us back to where there are inmates sitting, waiting for whatever comes next. The girls and guys are separated by a small cement wall. I look over and see Dreadlocks. When he notices me he has a look on his face of complete surprise and confusion then he starts laugh. Shit, I'm laughing too. I pray he doesn't tell Drama Girl he saw me here. Then everyone will know. I see two other guys from shelter. I wish I could talk to them but there is no communication between males and females in jail.

Stripper and I are both starving. All I ate before being arrested was peanut butter toast three hours prior. There are brown paper sacks on the floor, left by inmates who were served food when they arrived. They will not give a sack to us. We rummage through the sacks to find left over food. There are four pieces of bread with bologna in saran wrap. We unwrap them and split it between the two of us and another girl we have started talking to. I just take the bread plain the meat looks sketchy to me. The stripper offers me mustard but I shake my head and stick out my tongue with a scrunched up nose.

They put a hospital wrist band on me with a small thumbnail of my mug shot. The stripper and I compare our wrist bands. “You look sexy,” she tells me even though my hair is a giant fuzz ball mess from my hat. At least I don't have tear streaks or running makeup. “You did good,” She tells me, “You didn't cry or anything. That's really good.”

We sit in some more chairs to wait even longer. We talk as if we have been best friends for years. We start talking to another girl who has the same name as me. I ask her if she goes by the same nickname and she says she does. When they call out our first name we both turn around. She is in for a probation violation. She says she has two kids, one of which she had when she was fourteen. She said her baby never got taken away though, she just grew up fast. She's not going to be released like the stripper and I will be. She's waiting on them to find a bottom bunk for her in a cell because she has seizures.

The stripper asks me if I take pills. I tell her no even though I really would like some right about now. The other girl wants some so she goes into the bathroom and leaves some pills on the sink for her. She hid them in her underwear to get them in. As they start to get high off of Xanx I regret turning them down. I could really enjoy being fucked up right now. I know I made the right choice though because I need to be on top of things when I'm released to the streets with nowhere to go.

The stripper girl tries to convince me that I could be a stripper and get out of this mess. I tell her I'm too fat. She picks up the jail pants I'm wearing over my shorts and looks at my stomach, “You're fine hunny you could do it. You'd be good.”

A girl walks in, so dirty we can see the lice and mites moving around on her clothing. Her hair clearly hasn't been brushed in a week and she has the same scabs Pizza Face gives herself. Every time she walks by us we hunker close together, praying her bugs won't fall on us. I get pulled back to get my finger prints taken on a machine to put me in a database for criminals or something. The guy wipes it down with a sanitizing wipe so I ask him if I can have one to scrub off any potential bugs. He's nice and gives one to me. I've never really seen my finger prints before so it's kind of interesting to see this whole process. The guy is gentle after I tell him my wrists have carpal tunnel when he has to turn them to get prints right on the screen.

When I'm done I wipe the shit out of my arms with the sanitizing wipe. I am not going to get lice or scabies. I will keep my dignity. At least today I will keep my dignity. The stripper is released first because she's already in the system. She asks the guards for a post it note and a pen and writes her name down for me so I can find her on Facebook. I thank her for being so kind to me.

I go to the desk where the police officer sits and supervises all of us criminals. I have to stand on the tips of my toes just to get my eyes to where I can see her. I ask her what to do about having no where to sleep. I tell her I know Dreadlocks because he sleeps in the same shelter. “He's not being released tonight,” she tells me. “I figured,” I say, “I can guess what he's in for.”

The girl that shares my name is taken upstairs to jail. An hour or so later I'm finally released. It's after three in the morning and I have no idea what to do. I have been at the jail for five hours. I call Baby Mama and wake her up. I tell her what happened and that I'm stuck without a place to go. She tells me to get on the max the minute it starts to run again at 5am to get to her place. I think about calling Savior Man but there's no reason to bother him if I can't even get out there. I text him telling him to call me if he's still awake, which is more than possible.

I ask the police officers in the lobby if I can come back if I can't find a safe place to be until the max runs again. He says I can't and he doesn't have any suggestions for me. “What if I get raped or killed?” I ask him.

“I've worked here for twenty something years and that's never happened.”
“You're trying to tell me there has never been a rape in Portland?” I must look fucking stupid. Portland is a safe city but it's still a city. Shit happens everywhere. Even in Portland.

I leave the police station anyways. I hope that I can find Kitten lady sleeping outside. She's not though. We don't even have any blankets since Pizza Face stole them all. I walk up to shelter to at least attempt getting in. They can't let me but Douchebag Guy throws my blankets out a window for me.

I catch them and walk up to Walgreens to see if it's open. It's not. I walk back down to McDonalds where I go through the walk up window and get a large fry. I'm starving. All I've had is bread we stole out of lunch bags. I eat the fries in two minutes. I don't know where else to go so I see if any of the kids are sleeping at the fountain. There is an old Chinese man sleeping in a cardboard box like a sleeping bag and another girl sleeping on the bench. Inside the fountain is a Mexican boy I think I know.

I jump into the fountain to take a nap. I figure it's a good spot since it's close to the max, shelter and McDonalds. I gives me plenty of places to go if I should run into trouble. I lay out on my blankets and try to curl up the best I can to keep my body heat inside me. It's not freezing out but in a t-shirt and jeans it's pretty fucking cold. The guy gets up and pees outside the fountain. He's not the kid I thought he was. I don't fall asleep but I doze and shiver for about an hour before it's time to catch the max. I wrap myself in blankets waiting for the train.

The guy who gave me the laptop charger comes up to the max station. “You sleep outside last night?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“Why?”

“Got caught stealing at Walmart and just got released.”

He shakes his head at me. I shake my head at myself. I'm a mess.

I struggle to keep my eyes open on the max ride. I get off at Rose Quarter to get on the bus I'm supposed to take to get to Baby Mama's house. I ask the driver for my stop. I try to keep my eyes open but I'm asleep before we get out of downtown. The next thing I know we are at the Gresham Transit Center. The end of her line. I now have to wait until the next bus comes. The lady says I can wait on her bus and then leaves me alone. I steal a bus ticket to make up for the time I lost falling asleep on the bus like I did.

I wait on the bus trying to stay awake until my stomach feels like it's going to be ripped open. Stomach problems are just part of shelter life. I expect at least a stomach ache a week, usually they aren't the end of the world but when I screw up my medications I can expect a mess. I just recently screwed up my medications. I run off the bus to find a bathroom.

I ask every person I see if they know of a bathroom in the area. There aren't any public bathrooms and the stores aren't open. I scramble desperately looking for a bathroom and find porta potties. I run to them as if I'm being chased by the ginger demons. They are locked. There's nothing else nearby. I cannot wait one more minute. I am left with no options. I run behind a bush and squat.

It's disgusting and humiliating, much more than any mug shot ever could be. It's not a very neat and clean thing and I have no wipes, napkins, nothing. I try to tidy up the best I can but I don't even have hand sanitizer. Everything is with Baby Mama. Everything but my phone and crochet hooks.

I tried so hard not to feel ashamed or bad about myself through this whole thing but dogs have more dignity than I do right now. I am ashamed. I am now that crazy dirty homeless person that shows up in Busted and reeks. I try to cover up myself in the blankets but I still feel stinky and dirty. Anytime someone turns their head I think they are trying to find whatever homeless person stinks, so that when they find her they can ignore and despise her.

When I finally make it to Baby Mama house I ask for a shower before anything else. It's 7am but I jump in the shower and scrub each body part clean multiple times. When I'm done I finally lay on the floor of the baby's bedroom and fall in and out of sleep without any sleeping pills.   

--mm

Day Eighty-Seven

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

Baby Mama's boyfriend is waiting outside for us when we step outside of shelter. When she tells him about everything that happened last night he is ready to go kick some ginger ass. I convince them to go to #1 so I can eat breakfast and hang out with them. When I tell them the ginger kids will be there they go. They are ready for some confrontation.

It starts while I'm still in line for my daily oatmeal regimen. I walk with my bowl of oatmeal out into the hallway to see this all unfold. Ginger Kid says Baby Mama pushed Ginger Kid's Girlfriend, "Everyone saw it," he lies through his teeth.
"How did you see it when it was in the girl's dorm?" I ask him, "Grow a vagina lately?"
He growls that someone needs to teach me a lesson. I tell him, "Please do. I'd love to see this."

Bernard forces us to break it up, so the ginger kids run and hide in the day room. I've never thrown a first punch in a fight but god I want to beat their asses. I'm protective when it comes to my friends and their babies and I'm really sick of people threatening me. I just want to fight and get it over with. I want to prove that I can hold my own. I refuse to intentionally end up in a violent altercation though.

I have to meet with Bernard but Baby Mama and her boyfriend want to get out of here so I say I'll call them when I'm done. Bernard asks me what is going on between us and the ginger clan and I tell him all that I can but it's hard to remember how all of this got started in the first place. I don't really know what it is that the ginger kids hate us for besides the girlfriend's jealousy of Baby Mama's real fetus.


He asks me how we can defuse the situation and I shrug. "You heard them. He threatened me. If he lays a finger on me or on Baby Mama since she's pregnant I'll kill them."
Bernard sighs, "Say you'll defend yourself."
I grumble, "Fine, I'll defend myself very well."

I tell him I think Kitten Lady is going to die at the rate she's going with the vomiting and drug use.
"I know," He says, "There's nothing we can do. We can't force her to go into treatment or anything. You're doing the right thing by stepping back. You can't let her drag you down."
"But she could die."
"I know."
"So, you'll just watch her die?"
"There's nothing else we can do besides trying to support her when she'll let us."
"And when she turns up dead in a Nordstrom's bathroom?"
"There's nothing we can do."
"Nothing? Nothing besides watching her die?"
"Unfortunately, no."
I'm disgruntled. I know I need to do something, I'm just not sure what that something is yet.

He tells me to check out the education program if I have time today and I tell him I'll try but helping Baby Mama is my first priority if she gets word that she can move in today. He agrees that me helping her move is important and tells me to try if I have time. I figure I will. I don't have much else to do really.

I call Baby Mama and see where they've gone off to. They're at the mall so I meet them there. We need to go shopping for Baby Mama to get apartment stuff. She doesn't steal, ever but she lets the boyfriend and me steal as long as she doesn't know about it. If she knows she gets too nervous. The boyfriend helps to teach me some of his tricks. "The way I see it," he says, "I'm stealing from Republicans."

 I steal about thirty pairs of socks. "If my socks keep disappearing," I say, "I know Ginger Girlfriend is doing something with them."
The boyfriend smiles, "She is probably casting demons on them and making them get up and walk away."
This makes me laugh. I like him; he has jokes, he can stay.

We then go for Baby Mama to sign the paper work for her apartment. I wait with her boyfriend for her father who is going to help us move her. The boyfriend introduces us and says, "She's Baby Mama's friend. My friend too." The father shakes my hand and says he heard about the baby shower and appreciated that I did that for his daughter. I shrug and say I was happy to do it.

Once the paperwork is signed Baby Mama walks out jangling her key with a smile. We drive to her new apartment which is way on the other side of town. I doze laying on a giant stuffed dog, using it as a pillow. I'm exhausted.

We unload at her apartment then go to get her groceries. We go to a store called "Save A Lot". They require a quarter deposit to get a shopping cart which irritates the boyfriend to no end. The store is cheap and grubby. It's like a Goodwill for food. We hound Baby Mama on what she buys to make sure there's no extra hidden carbs. This is when her dad decides he really does like me.
"She's on her more than we are about the carbs," The boyfriend says, "That's how we know she is a real friend. She really does care about the baby."

Save A Lot is really trying to save a lot because they don't have any shopping bags.  You have to pay a nickle for each bag. I find some of their produce boxes and stack the groceries in there. I'm pretty sure this may be the most ghetto grocery store in Portland.

We unload the groceries and then Baby Mama starts cooking dinner. I'm starting to get one of my migraines so I grab a pillow and lay on the floor. She drops a blanket on my face that smells of fabric softener. I curl up and fall asleep for about two hours. When I wake up my migraine is gone so I feel more like myself. I'm not worried about dinner, I had a giant Jamba Juice for lunch.

We go to her boyfriend's house to pick up her stuff from there. It becomes a Tetris game to try and fit her bed in with all of us in the car but we pull it off with me crawling under the mattress. We unload again and then go to pick up the last of her belongings from shelter. I help her get everything asking, "You're going to miss this place one day."
"Hell no I'm not." She says.
Director Lady laughs at us.

We tell her about what happened with Ginger Gremlin the night before and she says she can't do anything about it. Baby Mama gives me all of her nonuses before she leaves. Outside we say our goodbyes. I will miss her in the dorm. The father shakes my hand and says, "It was nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll see you again real soon."
"Oh yes you will," I say, "I'll be there when the baby comes out. I'll catch him."

I go to Whole Foods to use wifi for the next hour and a half before shelter opens. I take my time getting to shelter after it opens. I don't really want to be there. They bring up another girl to fill Baby Mama's reservation. She's a little Hispanic girl that looks like a boy. I silently hope she does not pick our dorm, largely in part that I want the dorm to myself for the night. I also don't want someone who doesn't speak English in our dorm. I know no Spanish but Ginger's Gremlin's first language is Spanish. I won't stand a chance if I can't communicate with the other girl.

Houdini needs to do laundry because the cat peed all over his clothes but staff won't let him since he's technically not supposed to be upstairs. I finally just do it for him because of the ridiculousness of it all. It's stupid. They know I'm doing his laundry but they have to put my name in the slot and make me do it. Stupid shelter bullshit.

I ask him if Kitten Lady is any better but he shakes his head. I'm beginning to wonder if she is trying to kill herself right now. I don't know how or what to do though. She's nineteen no one can force her to go anywhere like you could if she was a minor.

The only other time I've been in this situation was when I was sixteen and it was my also sixteen year old friend. I just called her therapist and left a voice mail telling her my friend had a plan to kill herself. Due to confidentiality the therapist couldn't talk to me personally but she knew of me and knew enough to trust my voice mail and confront my friend about it. I wish I was still sixteen and could depend on adults to do all the dirty work for me but I know I'm on my own. My only hope is possibly the doctor lady but I don't know how much she can or will do.

There's a metal tree outside of day program #1. The leaves on the tree are engraved with the names of street kids who have died in the program. There's plenty of leaves on the trees. They are supposed to get another leaf soon for the friend of Houdini who recently over dosed in the Nordstrom's bathroom. There will be more leaves to follow him. 13 street kids die every day around the United States. Their bodies are carted off like trash and their names aren't listed in the newspapers; they just disappear.

I don't want the next leaf to be labeled with KL's name but at this point there is little I can do to prevent it anymore.

When I go to bed I see the new girl has chosen our dorm. I'm not thrilled about this. I was looking forward to watching a movie without having to wear headphones and having the privacy of the dorm to myself. But shelter moves fast and each person that leaves is instantly replaced by a new person. I grumble to myself and go to bed.

--mm

Day Eighty-Six

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

In the morning I give Houdini a large trash bag with all of Kitten Lady's stuff. He doesn't complain about it, just nods sadly. I feel like this is some form of weird dating, having to give her her stuff back like this but I need to make a point. I'm not going to be yelled at and cursed at, even if it is her birthday.

I go to Whole Foods in the morning because I think I might enjoy street kid company even if that means slow wifi. It works out though because only a handful of kids are there so the internet isn't too bad. We all sit on our computers with headphones on, not talking. It's a weird sort of companionship of this generation, when hanging out means not talking at all. Sometimes I just like to enjoy the quiet of my internet with other people around.

Online my former roommate's sister sends me a message, responding to my ask for help with Baby Mama's stuff. She tells me she wasn't ignoring me, she just wanted to think about who might have baby supplies as she just sold most of hers in a garage sale. I'm hit with a lot of thoughts and feelings all at once. I have really missed my roommate's sister. She is the one who taught me how to crochet. I used to sit in her house and crochet while we tag teamed yarn and children. I was dearly attached to her two-year-old daughter who called me her Beadey.

I take an anxiety pill I feel so overwhelmed and shaky talking to her. It's not really a bad overwhelmed. It's bad because I'm hit with all kinds of thoughts about my roommate kicking me into this position but I'm also thrilled just to hear from her sister again. She tells me to let her know when I know what Baby Mama needs and she'll send out an email to all the mothers she knows, which is a lot of moms. She says she'll arrange for me to get my belongings from her sister and she'll get me what I need until I find a permanent place.

I tell her about the potential grant to yarn bomb the block outside of the day program. She says she would love to get on board with that and she has yarn and hooks to donate if other kids want to learn crochet. She's working on self publishing a crochet book and will give us a copy. I offer to help edit it and she is willing to let me help. I tell her I have three free tickets for PDX Playdate and she says she'll bring the kids to PDX Playdate so I can see them.

I tell her I'm okay sleeping in the shelter. I make it sound better than it is. I don't want her sister to think she's won by casting me to the streets like she did. The best way I can come on top is to be happy. To be happy and publish books. I don't remember who said it originally but I've always lived by the quote, "The best sellers are the best revenge."

At one I walk with Gold, Kitty and Yougio to the day program. Ginger kid and his girlfriend are there and start mugging us. Gold starts yelling that she's pregnant as a jab to Ginger's Gremlin (...girlfriend)'s fake fetus.  I join in and say, "Me too!" One of the staff guys I hardly know sits next to us and says, "You two better not be pregnant. I'll beat both your asses."

They say at 5pm they'll have a sign up for thirteen people to go to the Timbers game. Now, I've mentioned it before but the Timbers are huge in Portland. They almost shut down Trimet every game. I've never really been big on watching sports; I always say I'd rather play sports than watch sports but I have a love for packed stadiums and people watching. Plus, I'd rather go watch the game than sit outside listening to people cheering while I wait for shelter. Finally, they probably have cotton candy. Needless to say at 5pm I'm signing up.

I spend a good chunk of the day hanging out at the library and watching Netflix. I was invited to go and smoke weed with Asian Kid and the boy that has a crush on me but decided to disappear on them. I just want to watch movies and be quiet today. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by the conversation I had with my roommate's sister.

When it's close to five I head back to #1 to sign up for the Timbers game. I see KL sleeping outside by herself. I walk past. It's her own fault she is alone on her birthday. Lazy-eye-doctor-lady comes upstairs and I call her over to me. I ask her about the referral for my ear and about the constant migraines. Then I tell her quietly, "At the rate KL is going she's going to kill herself. She's throwing up and trying to cut her cast off."
"Do you know what's making her throw up?" she asks.
I shake my head.
She says she'll try to pull her aside after she's done outside. She's been trying to find her anyways. I hope she follows through and sees her. KL needs more help than I can give.

We go off to the Timbers game. I'm pretty much the only girl going. Nerdboy is going so I ask the boy who has a crush on me, Harold, if we should get Nerdboy lost or locked somewhere in the stadium. He laughs at me. I go off with him and the Asian kid through the entrance and Nerdboy starts yelling at the security guards, "I'm with them!"
"No you ain't!" I scream back at him.

I spot a guy selling cotton candy. I have no money but I run up to get one anyways. He hands one to me then serves a family behind me. I open my bag of cotton candy before he's finished and dig out my debit card. I try to give him the card but of course he doesn't take card, only cash. I fake like I'm going to go find an ATM but disappear in the crowds.

The three of us then proceed to sneak into the VIP seating. I'm hesitant on this. I don't feel like getting kicked out of the game but we sneak down successfully. I prop my feet up and eat the cotton candy. I let the boys eat some but I ban the yellow stuff. That's the awesome shit that tastes like banana that I'm going to save for later.

The game is against San Jose, which isn't far from my hometown. I crochet while we watch the game from our excellent seats. It's a close game with lots of tumbling and falling on the ground. San Jose wins 3-1. A little girl in front of us looks at me funny when I yell at the ball players. She reminds me of the little girl I used to nanny. I look at her and say, "The ball goes in the net. You get it. I get it. Why don't they get it?" She laughs shyly at me.
"It's her first game." The mom says.
"Mine too."

After the game we walk to get yogurt and granola. We pass KL sitting alone on the benches outside of the dollar store, picking at her knee. I make a big show of the cotton candy just to be a bitch;she looks at it sadly and asks where we got it. While I'm buying my groceries I feel bad so I ditch the guys and walk back by myself and drop the cotton candy on KL's lap even though it's the good yellow stuff. I've probably had enough cotton candy the past few days.
"If it makes you feel any better I spent the whole day alone and I got robbed," she says with tears about to spill over.
"I'm just tired of it," I say.

Her face is in her hands and she's crying. I try to walk away but every step feels like treading water. I feel bad. It is her birthday. Finally, I turn back around to sit next to her and hold her while she cries.

I know I don't have to. A lot of people would say I'm justified in walking away after how she treated me. Part of me feels like she should have to. But, I know I wouldn't be a good friend at all if I left her alone like that. Even if she doesn't deserve my kindness right now a friend is a friend at all times when you really need them. I let her cry it out until Houdini comes and we take her into shelter. I tell her to get some rest. I don't know what I'm going to do about her. I really don't.

At the rate she is going she will die. It's a matter of when not if. Part of me wonders if this is some sort of suicide attempt. I don't know what to do. I'm just another fucked up street kid. What do I know?

In shelter I hang out with Baby Mama for what will most likely be the last time inside shelter. She will be moving into her apartment tomorrow or the next day. We have laundry tonight so while everything is being washed we hang out in the dorm while Gold sits outside the dorm and chats with us. (You cannot enter another dorm unless you are doing a chore. Otherwise it's an automatic BLA). I get the internet to work for the first time in ages. As a result I end up falling asleep watching South Park. (Ironically, I was watching the episode where homeless people take over South Park like Walking Dead. I found this really funny.)

I wake up to staff tapping my laptop, telling me to shut it off since I'm playing it on speakers. This is disappointing. I rarely get natural, calm sleep like I was having. I close the laptop and sit up sleepily. Ginger's Gremlin starts threatening Baby Mama. She touches her swollen belly and says, "Bless you with demons." Baby Mama is a strong person because she doesn't punch Ginger's Gremlin right then and there. She walks out of the room and then Ginger's Girlfriend starts on me saying she will curse me and send demons on me.

I run out to staff because she won't shut up and I'm trying to go to sleep. Staff is really frustrated with all of the bickering in the dorm. Ginger kid himself starts running his mouth threatening us and it starts to get loud before staff screams at the top of his lungs, "Everyone stop it!"

Once the big commotion calms down I can finally go back to sleep but after getting riled up like I did after being asleep it's a lot of tossing and turning before I finally pass out again.

--mm

Day Eighty-Five

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

I wake up before eight because almost half of shelter is already up. For a brief moment I think I am back with my paternal family and all my cousins are talking but I realize all too soon that I'm not a kid anymore and all of my family is gone and I'm just stuck in this crummy shelter yet another day. I roll out of bed and eat a few bowls of cereal. I try to overeat on weekend mornings since there's nothing open until 1pm and I need to be more careful with food stamps. I shower and get dressed, taking my time until 9am to grab my phone before I'm in trouble for not being out on time.

One of the guys stands in the doorway that leads out of shelter. Instead of telling him to move I just stand there messing with my phone. One of the other guys tells him he's holding people up. "I'm holding M up," says Cow, "That's not the person you want to hold up."
I shrug, "I'm not in a hurry. I'll yell at you next time."
They laugh and try to mock me by saying, "Get the fuck outta my way."
When we get to the final door out of shelter he intentionally stands there just so I yell at him to get the fuck out of my way.

I don't mind at all though. Maybe it makes me a bad friend but lately I've been intentionally leaving late so I don't have to hang out with Kitten Lady. I just like being able to enjoy my blog and the internet which I can't do with her. She's banned from all of my wifi hot spots. Then there's the fact that the morning revolves around her having to spange up enough for a bag, then we have to find a bathroom for her to shoot up while I crochet outside the bathroom door. I'm just tired of it. Besides, I should be focusing on my blog and things outside heroin. I don't want my life to have to revolve around her addiction anymore.

I head to Starbucks so I won't have to compete with other street kids for Whole Foods wifi. I otherwise wouldn't mind being at Whole Foods with everyone else. I kind of miss hanging out with the other street kids when I think about it.

Outside Starbucks a couple sits with a boxer puppy. I come up to pet him and the man says, "He might jump on you."
"It's okay," I tell the puppy, "You can jump on me all you want."
As if on cue the seven month old puppy hops up on his back legs and puts his paws in my hands. He licks my face clean.
"Want to dance?" I ask him and start twirling him around with me, holding his paws.
The couple laugh. "That's so awesome," the guy says and I go into my overly fancy coffee shop so I can sit amoungst rich people and use the internet. I hate this Starbucks. I really wish Whole Foods had better wifi.

One of the baristas walks around and gives people samples of their bacon breakfast sandwich. I try one and can tell they're trying to make a healthy version because it tastes like shit. I eat it anyways though. I ask her for an ice water and continue on my internets to pass the time and enjoy a quiet Saturday morning for once.

When it's close to time for #2 to open I stagger over there early. After I finish my blog I'm so tired I can't keep my eyes open. I've been exhausted lately. The guy who runs the day program is working and he knows me so I ask him if I can come in early to sleep. I tell him my migraines are killing me. He lets me and asks how the baby shower went. I tell him it was a smashing success.

I don't fall completely asleep on the couch, I just get a nice doze. I don't know what they put in the water today though. It's not long after they open before people start wigging out and fighting. It starts with me and Kitten Lady. When I wake up I ask her what she wants to do with her birthday tomorrow. Pizza Face starts blabbering about going to her parents house. (That's another thing, why are you hanging out in a homeless shelter when you have a fucking house? That's pathetic.) I tell KL I was thinking about asking #1 for movie tickets to go see a movie.

She does one of her classic freak out things and starts screaming that I'm insane. All I say is, "Look at how you talk to me when all I did was ask you want you want to do for your birthday but it's fine, spend your birthday alone. I'm done." And I really am. I'm done letting her treat me like this when I try to help her out. She always says she would do anything for me but when I ask her not to use my phone to get drugs or to go to the doctor for her foot she refuses. With all I do for her I'm feeling used. I've defended her time and time again when people have said that she is using me or abusing our friendship. I can't anymore. I've lied for her too  many times and now I look like an idiot.

I go to the computer room so I can get on Facebook. I have to wait for a computer so while I do I talk to Houdini and rant about how KL treats me. He agrees full heartily with me. He's sick of it too; that's why he hasn't been hanging out with us lately. Two of the girls leave and tell KL I was talking about her to Houdini. When Houdini says they're about to go tell KL what I've said I say, "I don't care. I've told her all that to her face and that just means I can have a computer now."

KL comes hobbling in on her cast screaming like an idiot. She threatens that she'll beat my ass outside which I laugh at. What's she going to do puke on me? She says I don't have any friends outside of her and that I'm a horrible person and a fat ass. You know all the usual. I tell her she looks stupid and she throws a Cheeto in my face which really makes me laugh. Then she hobbles out the door.

I honestly think it's funny when it's all over and continue to watch Jon Stewart and crochet my baby blanket for Baby Mama. (She's having him in five weeks or so by the way). I get word from her that she got her apartment and can move in Monday or Tuesday. I'm thrilled at this news.

When I go into the day room to look for someone Dreadlocks and Drama Girl get into it. I admit it's been awhile since I've watched the Dreadlocks/Drama Girl show. Houdini ends up running into the bathroom where they are fighting and holding Dreadlocks back so he doesn't hit Drama Girl . Dreadlocks leaves and then returns three times.

Six of the other kids offer to smoke a blunt together. I jump on this. With all the drama going on I'm ready to smoke some fucking weed. We go to the park where we roll a joint and pass it around laughing and sharing stories about being homeless and life outside being homeless. It probably makes me a terrible person but I'm kind of relieved that I can be done with KL now. I feel bad but I really do enjoy hanging out with other people and not having to worry about pushing her or making sure she has a bag.

After we smoke we go back for dinner. I haven't eaten all day since I had the cereal and I just smoked pot. You better believe I have the munchies. They are serving tiny burgers for lunch. I ask for two and convince them to give it to me. Then when one of the guys says he doesn't like it I eat half of his burger.

While we're eating Dreadlocks and Drama Girl get into it again. Someone calls Dreadlocks the n-word and it gets so ugly that staff are trying to evacuate everyone but nobody moves. We all just watch this spectacle. Staff is screaming at us to leave, Dreadlocks is screaming at whoever it is that used the n-word while the other black kids stand behind him. A kid starts playing the guitar and screaming a song over all the noise. Dreadlocks ends up leaving but the drama isn't over yet.

Another fight breaks out between two boys I don't know and once again they fail to evacuate us. The guy who runs all of #2 takes one of the boys outside for a walk but there's still screaming and yelling. I go outside and sit on a giant stack of boxes #2 has flattened outside the building. I talk with some of the guys and we all pass around a cigaraette even though I'm trying to quit for my sick friend. I figure my likelihood of dying from smoking is pretty low right now. It's more likely this lifestyle will kill me first.

There's still screaming and laughing we can hear every time someone opens the door and the police drive by to see if they can help get it all under control. Director Guy sends them away though. They always try to keep the pigs out of sight even when they are the ones that call them.

The same kids I smoked a blunt with say they're getting the hell away from there. I get up to join them but it takes two attempts to get myself off the cardboard; I fall back twice. We start walking towards Powells where we stumble onto their 41st birthday party. We crash it for awhile looking for Chuck Palahniuk who is supposed to be speaking. (He is the guy responsible for Fight Club). I want to stay and listen to the authors read. If I was with KL or by myself I would have been sitting there listening but I don't want to give away my nerdness to the other kids. I find some free cotton candy and end up eating not only my own giant one but two reject cotton candies the boys don't want.

We walk to a park a few blocks behind shelter. I didn't know about it before; Portland is big on parks so you always find ones you didn't know. There is one part that is a dog park so I run off to befriend the puppies.

There is a little baby miniature boxer dog that runs around yapping at all the dogs even though they are three times bigger than it is. I like this puppy and tell him, "If I were a dog I'd probably be you." I play on the playground while the joint is being rolled and make myself dizzy on the spinny thing and go down some slides. When I stagger back we pass a joint between the six of us. We joke around and have a good time. One of the boys is trying desperately to flirt with me but I try to pretend I don't notice.

We sit enjoying our high. It was really good medicinal pot. I have some major cotton mouth from the cotton candy and pot combination so I start walking towards the dollar store. When the other kids don't follow I ask, "Just going to sit there?" They laugh and follow me.

In shelter I go through all of my stuff and pick out anything that belongs to KL. It fills a whole trash bag. No wonder my locker is always an avalanche. I give it to Houdini, or at least try to but he begs me to keep it. "She can't carry all that," he says.
"I know but she's not my problem anymore." I tell him.
When Bridge Lady gets involved she says, "She's right; it's not her problem anymore."

Houdini and I both agree we are still brother/sister but he understands I need my break from KL and a chance to take care of myself. He doesn't really hold it against me that I can't agree to continue holding her belongings or enable her in the ways that I have been. He calms and says he'll take it in the morning.

I know it doesn't seem like it from the blog but Houdini and I are pretty close, considering we have all sorts of attatchment disorders. I know it's not nice for him to be stuck in the middle of this but I need to make my point. I'm not taking this anymore. I don't have to. I reorganize my locker until it's immaculate. Then I get the internet to work in my dorm again and sit online until my eyelids are closing on me and I fall asleep.

--mm

Day Eighty-Four

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

I get up early in the morning to go with Pregnant Lady to her ultrasound. I've never seen a baby in an ultrasound like that before so I'm excited. "You know I really haven't known you that long, but I feel like you're my best friend," Baby Mama tells me. It takes two buses to get to the hospital but once we get into the hospital it's fast.

The ultrasound is projected onto a TV screen attached to the wall across from the hospital bed my pregnant friend lays on. The baby is sleeping and when the tech tries to wake him up he makes faces at her. It looks like he is saying bitch get out of my house I'm sleeping. She snaps pictures of him making faces at us and even gets one with his mouth open. I can't pull my eyes off the screen. It's amazing. He looks so much like his mother it's ridiculous. She plays his heart beat for us. I don't want it to end, I can't tear my eyes away. I've never seen anything like this. I make the tech give me my own copy of my favorite pictures.

When the goop is cleaned off her belly we meet with her doctor. She is at high risk for a still born because of her diabetes. Her sugars are terrible because she is eating things with hidden sugar in it. She says she needs to eat meals at the same time every day. When I explain that this could easily be achieved by going to the day programs to eat the doctor says, "Listen to your friend, she seems like she has a wealth of information."

She tells us she is looking for a sixteen year old guy who recently ran away from his mother. She says he was living with her but went back to his mother and has since gone missing. I tell her if he's on the streets it's just a matter of time before he shows up at #1 or #2. She shows me a picture and tells me to look out for him and tell him the doctor lady is looking for him. I tell her I will.

They give us a pamphlet of information on how to eat right with diabetes. On the bus and max I read these to Baby Mama and make her commit to doing the diet with me. We go to the mall where I show her a website I used to use when I was trying to lose weight to track food. I tell her I'll do the diet with her because I need to lose weight anyways and I'll go to Savior Man's house to cook us healthier meals. I tell her I'll be her mom and get her a lunch box and pack her meals for her.

The fact that she might have a still born doesn't only scare her, it worries me too. I don't want that to happen, it would be awful. I'm attached to this baby now. Based off the ultrasound he is cute and precious and a natural born shit talker. If I have to shovel veggies down her throat I'm going to make sure this baby lives.

We meet up with her boyfriend for awhile. She's going to her dad's house for the weekend. We get on the max so I can go downtown and they can catch the bus to his house. The max shakes and lurches to sudden stops multiple times. The worst time is when we are trying to pass through Rose Quarter. It lurches to a stop so violent I, half asleep, fall off my chair and onto the floor. Then the doors refuse to open.

I start screaming to be let off the bus. We frantically press the emergency buttons that help you communicate with the bus driver but to no avail, there is no answer. The longer this goes on the more people panic. "Let me off this fucking train," I yell, "This is some serial killer shit."
"Don't you mean terrorist?" Baby Mama asks me.
"No, serial killer," I insist, "This is a fucking Saw movie. Razor blades are about to drop out of the ceiling."

She laughs at me but people are really panicking. Several ask if we hit someone or what is going on. We bang on the doors trying to get out and more than once consider the emergency door release. I try to get her boyfriend to pull it but he won't and I'm afraid to pull it. I don't want to get arrested for using an emergency exit when there is no fire.

The door finally opens and 75% of the passengers run off the train. While the 25% left chug along across to downtown the rest of us wait for the next train. Baby Mama and her boyfriend catch a bus to Vancouver and I tell her I'm going to be calling her over the weekend to see what she's eating. She thinks I'm joking but I'm not.

I go to #1 where I curl up outside to try and sleep. Houdini is there and tells me Kitten Lady claims she was robbed once again in the middle of the night. I tell him I'm running out of sympathy for all of this as it is her choice not to take care of herself. I feel bad because I am starting to doubt that things are really happening to her the way she says it is. I just don't understand how these things keep happening to her and what she is doing that is causing it. She's my friend so I'm supposed to trust her that she is telling the truth but honesty isn't always her strong suit.

I sleep on the bench but when it's time for dinner seven different people ask me if I want to eat. I finally give up and drag myself to sleep outside the court yard because you get woken up less often there. I am really exhausted from all the work on the baby shower and getting up early for the ultrasound. I sleep until 7pm. When I wake up I see Kitten Lady a few feet away with Sally and her boyfriend. I sleepily join them and KL starts telling me all about getting robbed. I will myself not to roll my eyes. Then I realize she had some of my favorite clothes on her so they must be gone too. She gets mad at me when I ask about them saying, "My stuff got robbed too. It's not my fault."

I don't say anything but I am irritated. I really think I need to stop loaning her stuff because she's not responsible with anything. Both Houdini and I are becoming more and more frustrated about this.

In shelter I have the dorm to myself so I plug in my laptop and set it in one of my drawers attached to my bunk to play Tangled. I'm asleep before the narrator even comes close to telling the introduction of the story.

--mm

Day Eighty-Three

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

It's baby shower day. It's going to be busy. I have to get the baby shower together and meet with Bernard at 2pm then be ready to decorate by 6pm. Despite how busy it'll be I'm actually looking forward to all of this. Douche Man is extra terrible in the morning. He comes into the room screaming about how I need to go sweep up the kitchen because we left crumbs last night. When Bitch Lady comes in and asks about it later I say, "I'll be more than happy to clean it but I'm not a dog you don't get to bark at me." She nods in agreement that he was a bit out of line and I continue to get ready to go, saying I'll clean the kitchen on my way out.

When I stop on the landing to tie my shoe I heard Douche Man yelling at Bitch Lady telling her to take my nonuses away for the kitchen. "She's cleaning it," I hear Bitch Lady defending me, "She just said she was about to." You know it's bad when Bitch Lady is defending me.

I come back upstairs to get a broom and with my broom in hand Douche Man starts yelling, "Are you going to sweep up those crumbs?"
"Do you not see a broom in my hand?" I ask.
He starts yelling that this is verbal abuse. I cut him off, "No, the way you are talking to me is verbal abuse."
He keeps yelling at me, "I keep a log of everything you do; you are verbally abusive. I'm going to get you kicked out of here."
"Good," I say, "Because I keep a log of everything you do too and the way you are threatening me right now is verbal abuse."

As I'm walking away I can still hear Bitch Lady sticking up for me and I make a note to tell Director Lady about all of this tonight. I'm not going to be spoken to or threatened like that. I also want Director Lady to know that Bitch Lady is treating me better and trying to help me.

I ask Nazi Man downstairs for a mop and tell him what's going on. When I tell him about how Douche Man woke me up he laughs and says, "You didn't get the memo? That's how we're waking up everyone in shelter now. We go into all the dorms and yell M needs to clean the kitchen." I giggle. I miss my downstairs staff. They treat people a lot better; I really took them for granted when I was downstairs.

Director Lady told me that she will allow Kitten Lady to attend the baby shower if Beard Man gives her permission to be in shelter. After I eat breakfast at #1 I find her at #2 to pass along this information. I also want to get her into the clinic because she hasn't been able to keep anything down for over a week. She throws even water up.

It's pulling teeth to get her to cooperate. Finally, Houdini comes outside and yells at her to go and take care of herself so she lets me push her up there. She then naps outside instead of taking care of business like she needs to. I shake my head at her so she starts yelling at me, "Why are you shaking your head at me? I'm here aren't I? I don't need to give you a play by play of everything I do." I walk away. I'm getting really tired of this.

I go to my meeting with Bernard early. We need to create a plan of what to do with me to get me off the streets. He asks me why I'm so unmotivated to get stuff done. I shrug. "I'm just tired," I say, " I was working three jobs and going to school and trying to deal with health problems before. It was too much. Now I'm just tired. I went to Alabama to take a break and just be that kid that lives with their parents and doesn't have to do anything but I didn't get the break I wanted. I'm just so tired."

Bernard says he'll go to the school with me to see if he can get them to drop the charges and fines for dropping my courses so I can return to school. He says he'll help me get my Trimet ticket removed and get the ERC to help me find a job and get into one of the work experiences they have available. He says they should be able to let me work in the doggy day care then help me find another job working with animals if I so choose. He says they have connections with other places in the area for work. Worst case scenario he'll help me go through a temp agency. This is way more productive than any meeting I ever had with Beatles Lady.

"What do you want to do with your life?" He asks me.
"I want to wake up one morning and be a millionaire and get a mansion and fill it with puppies," I say.
He asks me about my family and what mental disorders we have. I tell him to pick a disorder and I'll tell him who has it. "That bad?" he asks and I nod. He asks about my mother and I say, "She's a worthless piece of shit."
"What disorders did she have?" he asks me.
"She's tricky," I say, "We don't really know what's wrong with her. She was the one who was supposed to turn out normal but she is the craziest out of all of us. She was fine until she got caught up in the church and started losing her mind. She is really narcissistic for one thing. She stole so much from my grandmother that my grandmother had to move in with my aunt. I think she's addicted to prescription drugs but it hasn't been diagnosed. She just carries around a purse full of pills."
I don't mention anything she ever did to me. Just my grandmother. It's okay he doesn't ask.

I tell him about Douche Man in shelter and why I am convinced he is doing drugs and coming into shelter high and dope sick. Bernard rubs his balding head and tells me to keep track of everything and tell him. He promises to buy me a lock box for my medications once I find one that will fit all of them.

I witness KL talking to Beard Man and he tells her he's going to be putting her back on the list for shelter so I figure everything is taken care of and I can go.  I head to the mall to find the last of the things I need to throw this damn baby shower. I steal all kinds of decorations and baby bottles from the big dollar store. It's harder when I don't have KL with me. It makes me a lot more nervous. I pull it off without a problem though and go to shelter to decorate.

Director Lady lets me up and I begin decorating every inch of shelter. She tells me there is no email from Beard Man for KL so I have her try to get a hold of him but I know it's too late and there's nothing she can do. It takes me the full three hours to decorate. Staff comes in while I'm doing all this and they are amazed. They have never seen any youth do anything remotely like this. Bitch Lady says I seem to be doing better upstairs. I shrug, "I like downstairs better actually. The staff down there are a lot better."
"Where are you from?" she asks me.
"California Bay area, where they make Jelly Beans."
"Are your parents still together?"
I almost laugh at this, "No, they divorced when I was like three. I don't know anything different."
"Are they still in California?"
"My mother is. My father is in Alabama now. I don't really talk to either of them though. I've been on my own since I was sixteen."
I'm sitting on the floor, working on getting Pregnant Lady's memory book together.
"That's how old I was when I was on my own too," Bitch Lady says.
"Yeah," I shrug again, "I did pretty good for a long time. I was working three jobs and going to school and juggling health problems. I made it all work and then I lost three and a half weeks due to surgery. Now, I'm here. It can happen to anybody."
"It really can." she says. She was on the streets when she was my age too.

 Director Lady tells me I can take a smoke break so I take the one cigarette I have and smoke outside of shelter. I see KL when I go down so I run back up and grab my extra blankets and some Pedialite I got her to combat the vomiting. I wish her luck sleeping outside, smoke my cig and go back upstairs to shower before the night's festivities begin.

The baby shower goes smoothly, which is a pleasant surprise. Ginger and his girlfriend are so irritated with all the decorations and happiness surrounding Pregnant Lady they go to bed early instead of causing drama. We have a decent crowd for the games and activities. Director Lady remembered to bring the cake with blue cream cheese frosting. Gold, Kitty and Yougio come in half way through drunk as hell but this makes us laugh. When it's a baby shower in shelter you have to expect that kind of thing.

We finish right at eleven. A few of the guys help me clean up. Director Lady excuses me from chores for the night since I spent more than five hours on this. It's the first baby shower, or for that matter any celebration, the shelter has ever had. I'm impressed with myself. I changed the entire atmosphere in shelter for a night in a way that for all the years shelter has existed has never happened.

--mm

Day Eighty-Two

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

It's yet another day devoted to baby. This time KL and I have pre-planned to go to 82nd and boost from all the stores that don't really know us. Our first stop is for the cats. At the pet store KL steals three outfits for Tweak and I grab some cat nip and a new collar for Spencer. We act like we are going to buy a dish at the register but I swipe my empty visa gift card and fake surprise when it is declined. We say we'll come back when we find our other debit card then go to the baby store.

I've never stolen clothes before so KL instructs me to rip the tags off and hide them in other sets of clothing. Then we slide them behind her back in the wheel chair. KL picks out a really gangster jacket for the new baby and I grab a bunch of adorable onesies. We talk loudly about the store not having what we want and needing to go to Walmart then we leave.

At Walmart we get baby shower supplies. My backpack is falling apart so I get some cute white duct tape with mustaches on it in hope that this will make my backpack last a little longer until I can get a new one. Coldstones is right by Walmart and I can't resist it so I buy us each an ice cream that we eat on the way to the bus stop.

When we get back to downtown I go right to day program #2 to pick up the prizes they are donating for the baby shower. KL needs to go to #1 so she can talk to Beard Man, otherwise she will be unable to sleep in shelter. She decides not to go so she can get a bag of heroin instead. I understand that she has an addiction and she will be dope sick if she doesn't get it but I feel like she is being irresponsible and making a conscious decision to sleep outside. I don't have time to feel bad for her.

I go up to shelter early to serve food. I boss Director Lady around to get things ready for me to paper mache Pregnant Lady's belly. When PL gets upstairs I instruct her to put on a thin tank top. We go to house meeting that takes forever with arguments about making peanut butter and jelly. I announce the baby shower and people show an interest in it which makes me hopeful.

PL and I go straight to arts and crafts when all this is over. I take the big roll of saran wrap and walk in circles around her. Director Lady supervises and laughs at us. I plaster layer after layer on her belly, ensuring the newspaper strips overlap. Douche Man yells at us for making too much noise more than once. He is clearly pissed that Director Lady gave us permission to do this project. Every time he comes in yelling at PL, Gold and I for making too much noise or dropping the flour and water mix on the floor I refer him to Director Lady.

In the end Director Lady moves us down to the kitchen where I hold a blow dryer against PL. We are sitting under the camera and when I have to hold the dryer to her crotch we can't help but laugh at what this must look like on camera. It takes three or four attempts to get the thing off of her and even when w do it's till much too wet to really be removed. We are just too tired to keep going.

I slide it onto a large bowl in the kitchen. Then I ask Bitch Lady to help me store it in the storage room so it can dry. She laughs and says she is impressed that I'm doing something like this in shelter. I shrug, "I like doing this kind of thing."

Douche Man yells at me for the flour on the floor in the shower area and insists I clean it on my knees in the dark. (The light must be off after 11pm). I do so without complaint then shower to get the sticky substance off of myself. I fall into bed and try to sleep, happy that the baby shower is almost finished.

--mm

Day Eighty-One

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

My whole day is about the baby shower. It's all I care about right now. I'm having fun with it too. It's motivating and I've always loved planning parties. When I was little I insisted my mother and stepfather let me have a Valentine's day party. I planned the whole thing myself with games and crafts. The party actually went really well considering a little kid ran the whole thing.

I start off the morning by calling friends who have kids. Then I go to #2 and ask if I could use some of the nice donations you have to do street credit for to be used as prizes. The guy says it's okay and to have my case manager call him. I head to the library where I see my pregnant roommate and her boyfriend. I tell her I already have a friend willing to send a package and #2 willing to give prizes and she's impressed. While we wait for the library to open Ginger and his girlfriend give her the stink eye. I'm getting sick of them creating drama. I go onto Facebook and message my old roommate's sister asking for baby supplies. I then send out another more generic message to everyone on my list who has kids.

One of my friends that I grew up with responds and says she'll send a package to me for the pregnant lady. I haven't talked to her in months so I ask her how she is. She says something about cancer but doesn't respond immediately. I'm confused and ask her about the cancer but I can't wait for a response because I have a meeting with Bernard and the lady in charge of case management at lunch.

We meet in her office and Bernard jokes, "You're probably familiar with her floor."

They say that Bernard can be my case manager but that I can't keep asking for stuff for Kitten Lady. I can talk about her but I can't try to get him to do stuff for her. They say I can't switch case management again. If I have problems with Bernard I have to go to #2. I'm okay with this, I think Bernard will be a better fit because he actually knows Kitten Lady and me. He used to be KL's case manager and went to her court dates and everything.

I tell Bernard to speak to the guy at #2 and he says he'll email him. I'm disgruntled; I said call but I'm not going to be nit picky. I head back towards the library where I look up games and instructions on how to make a baby bump cast. I make more to-do lists.

My friend messages me back about the cancer. I tell her to call me and sit outside the library when she does. She has stage four lung cancer. She thought she told me when they found it in December but I guess it fell through the cracks somewhere in my inbox. She says originally they told her she had four weeks to live but she's still hanging in there and it's been nine months. At this point they don't know if she will live or die. I look up the survival rate of lung cancer and it's under 40%.

I don't really know what to say to her. She has a two year old daughter I haven't met. How is it I haven't bothered to talk to her since December? I'm a terrible friend. I promise to crochet her some hats. She lives in north Washington by Canada so too far for me to easily visit. I desperately want to see her. What if she gets bad? What if I don't have time to say goodbye? Or even worse, not have time to get to know her again. We were so close when we were in high school. We were inseparable for a long time.

I sit outside the library for awhile after we hang up. I want to call someone but I don't have anyone to call. Who do most people call when they hear their friend is dying? Their mother or brother or sister but I don't have any of those. I wish I could call my mother. She actually knew Penny. But, obviously she's not one to call in these situations. So in essence there is no one for me to call. No one would know who she was or why it matters anyways.

Houdini walks by and sees me sitting there. I tell him my friend is dying and leaving a kid behind.

"You should take that kid and raise it," he says.
"I'm pretty sure I couldn't handle a kid right now, I can't take care of myself," I say, "Besides the girl's dad and family might have something to say about that."
"You'll have kids someday," he tells me.
"Hell no I wont," I say, "I wouldn't pass my genetics onto anyone. That's cruel and unusual."
"You will. You won't stay single forever M."
"If I'm smart I will."
"Someday some guy will come along and rock your world. You don't want to be single forever."
"Yes I do." 
He laughs at me.

I'm having a hard time digesting this whole lung cancer thing so I go and find KL and take the kitten from her and hold her. I tell KL my friend is dying and she says, "Oh man. That sucks." Yes, it does. I go about the day in a sort of fog. I can't stop thinking about my friend, even when I should be working on the baby shower. I just can't. I want to do something but there's nothing for me to do. This is one problem I can't fix.

I gather baby shower supplies and print the lists of what I need from Director Lady. In shelter I shower her with all my hand outs and I can see her getting excited. This baby shower is going to be fun. Add some life in shelter.

--mm

Day Eighty

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

In the morning KL doesn't wait for me so I decide to go off and do my own thing. After breakfast I don't know what to do with myself since the library is closed on Mondays so I go to the mall. At the mall I run into Gold, Stripper Man, and Kitty. Gold and Kitty are searching for jobs as they have a rather crude competition going on. I wish I would have known, I look pretty terrible otherwise I would have dressed up too and looked for a job.

After we finish with the mall we walk through downtown where a man stands outside a deli handing out flyers. The deli is offering free milkshakes with the purchase of a sandwich. Gold says she is going to go in and hand in her resume and the guy passing out flyers says he's the manager. Gold pushes Stripper Man out of her way saying, "Move, you're in my light." This makes the manager laugh. He tells her to call in the afternoon and he will put her down for an interview.

We go to a different mall but I bounce out early without saying goodbye. I take the max back to downtown and go to #2 and take a nap. I fall asleep pretty hard but after an hour and a half they kick everyone out saying they don't have enough staff to keep the place open. I'm really groggy and my head is starting to hurt again.

One of the staff ladies at #1 pulls me aside in the afternoon and asks if I crochet and knit. I tell her I just crochet but I love it. She says she applied for a grant to yarn bomb the block outside the center. She says they'll know in December if we have the grant. I'm excited about this. It would be a really fun project and it would be a lot of free yarn. I love crochet.

I try to make sure i eat more protein as part of the problem may be that we are fed carbs all day but this doesn't help. I go to Whole Foods and the library working on various shenanigans for most of the day.

In shelter Director Lady is working and the mood is jovial. Gold was given an interview at that deli for tomorrow. Yougio sews his backpack while I attempt to teach my roommate how to crochet and Gold untangles my yarn. It's like an old lady party. We sit around joking about what would happen if my roommate went into labor in shelter. Yougio is getting all into herbal shit lately. He brews a tea with St John's Wort and Valerian root every night. I try it and it is surprisingly good. He says if she should go into labor in shelter the first thing he would do is grab the herbs. Gold has a stethoscope. I'll probably be running up and down the hallways like I found a chimichanga.

For dessert they have rainbow cupcakes. "What are we celebrating?" I ask, "Did someone come out of the closet?" Staff shake their heads at me. They don't know what to do with me. I don't know either though so I guess it's okay.

While eating the cupcakes I get the brilliant idea to throw my roommate a baby shower in shelter. I run this by Director Lady and she even seems excited about it. Gold and Yougio are too. I tell Director Lady I'll come back in tomorrow with a list of instructions for a baby shower and she laughs at me but I'm dead serious. I do the dishes for my chore but even once I'm done I can't sleep because there is so much going through my head.

I know the best person to ask for baby stuff is actually my old roommate's sister. The same roommate that burned me and started this homeless streak. I weigh out the options in my head and decide that I should send her a message via Facebook and see what happens. She hasn't deleted me yet. I can't get online in shelter anymore though so it'll have to wait until morning. This makes me sad though as I miss her kids a lot. My anxiety spikes tenfold so I make a to-do list for the baby shower and try to sleep. When I can't I play spider solitaire until my eyes can't stay open a second longer.

--mm

When Homelessness Feels Small

This is in no way my post for day eighty or eighty-one. I'm just musing right now. I know I should write but I don't want to. Today, when I sent out a mass email asking people for baby toys a friend of mine responded. I haven't talked to her in months, so I asked how she was doing. I missed her. She said something about her cancer.

"Cancer? What?" I responded.
"Yeah, you didn't know I had cancer?"
"No."
"Thought I told you..."

It's not breast cancer or like a little tumor where you get rid of it and you're better. Stage four lung cancer. It's spread, possibly to her back. She told me a whole bunch of jargon about chemotherapy and radiation but I didn't even remember a single word of it. She was originally told she had four weeks to live but she's still around and it's August. I asked her if she is going to be okay. She told me the doctors just don't know anything right now.

She has a two year old daughter. She's twenty-two.

We were best friends in high school after we met in church. We'd have sleepovers and went to summer camps together. Her foster mother decided to essentially lock her up for almost a year. She went to school and home and that was it. She couldn't talk on the phone. Anything. Nothing. Even though she was kept captive she was still my friend. My sister in Christ we used to say.

We were both dating our first boyfriends during this time. The boys were best friends so we were a foursome together. We got coffee every Sunday. We were a family. I remember her boyfriend who was like a brother to me told me, "You are safe now. You finally found a family. You have people who aren't going to hurt you. We're a family. It took you long enough but you found your family."

That guy later sent me on a spiral into bulimia. My boyfriend lost his temper and hit a wall behind me while we were at a school dance, missing my face by a few inches but a little too close to comfort for me. My friend's mom locked her up. Just like that we weren't a family anymore.

Still, she and I remained in touch via facebook and myspace. We didn't talk all that often but I still consider her a dear friend. She's probably the only one who could understand what I went through in that silly church we survived.

And now she's dying.

She lives in north Washington by Canada. Obviously, I don't have the means to get up there and see her. Compared to her cancer I feel like my homelessness is nothing. I don't have any right to complain. I don't have an expiration date hanging over my head.

I don't know how I should feel right now. I am completely numb. Thanks to my Cymbalta I don't feel much of anything. Nor do I know if I should. It's not like I can say we're super great friends now, if we were I would have known about this eight months ago. But she is still dear to me. And I haven't even met her kid yet.

I don't know what's going through my head right now but I feel small and insignificant. Normally when something like this happens to other people they have someone to call and talk to about it. I don't. I don't have anyone that I make those kinds of phone calls to. So instead, I am here, going crazy inside my own head.