Day Thirty-Four (4th of July)

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

There are no fire works when you're homeless. In fact, holidays really, really suck. Both the library and #1 are closed and #2 doesn't open until 11am. Kitten Lady is banned from Whole Foods, Safeway, Pioneer Square,  Rite Aid, the Max train, and just about every place in Portland. The only place left is Fred Meyer which is on the other side of the bridge and inconvenient but goddamn if she gets caught stealing rice pudding there we'll all starve! The funny thing is that these places didn't press charges. When they saw that she was stealing rice pudding and cookie dough they laughed at her. She's only banned because she's done it too many times.

As we are waiting for her boyfriend to appear we sit on the sidewalk, violating our two block rule. I see a lady walking a few blocks away eating a giant bag of cotton candy. "Oh my god, cotton candy looks so good right now." I say, "I really want some now."

When the lady passes us she asks, "Do you want some cotton candy?"
"Hell yeah." I say.

She drops the whole bag in my lap.
"The whole thing?" I ask.
"Yeah." She says.
"Are you sure?" I ask.
"Yeah."
 She keeps walking and I barely have time to yell thank you. It's one of the more unusual things that has happened to me lately. We wonder if maybe it's poisoned or something but we devour it anyways.  I say, "Today is going to be a good day. It can't get any better than being given cotton candy randomly for breakfast.

We walk to the water front with Houdini. We stop in Peets coffee where I buy a latte and a pastry so we can sit undisturbed and I can get on the world wide web. KL has still not recovered from her three days without sleep so she can't keep her eyes open. I try to drain the latte down her throat but it doesn't help so we go the rest of the way to the water front. By this time her boyfriend has disappeared.

We lay jackets on the group so she can sleep. She falls asleep with a lit cigarette in her hand and sleeps for over two hours. I write and chase after puppies. It's actually really nice. I get to see her and know she is safe but at the same time I am left alone to write and escape everything around me.

When she wakes up and appears functional again we go to #2. Houdini is there smiling from ear to ear. It's awesome to see him happy again for the second time in two days. He's playing pool with some of the other guys and actually looks excited to be doing something other than heroin. He hugs me and says, "Thanks for being such a good friend to my girl. She needs real friends."

#2 is boring so KL shoots up a rinse she has out of a desire to kill time. I'm disappointed but I don't say anything or get in her  face about it. In the end it has to be her choice to get clean and stay clean. All I can do is be there for her.

Rec Group Guy says he wants to throw something together to do for the 4th. In the end he decides that a group to go to Director's Park and run in the fountain is in order for the day. As he's rounding up hula hoops for us to go one of the guys flips out and punches a painting to the ground. He punches three more holes in it and tosses over a trash can. Things like that make me nervous so I edge in a corner by the door.The boy storms out. A staff member complains about the painting. Spades, one of the guys I kind of know, says, "Why don't you just fix it?"

The staff guy looks at him as if he just solved quantum physics or something. He proceeds to drag the painting inside. Spades shrugs. I sit down on the sidewalk against a tree. A guy walks by and drops a thing of daisies in my lap. I look up and he says, "Have a good day," and keeps walking. Daisies are my favorite flowers. They're starting to welt but they are still pretty, still a nice random gift. We go to the fountain. I sit on the edge and roll up my pants to stick my feet in. My big toes still have a little bit of pink nail polish on them from before I was homeless.

Spades and Rec Guy play with the hula hoops. Spades rides his skate board down the street while hula hooping. The boys are then showed up by a little girl who keeps the hula hoop up without stopping for thirty minutes despite the fact that the hoop is bigger than she is. When she finishes Spades and I clap.

I don't feel like being at the fountain long so I go to Whole Foods so I can use their internet. I finally get caught up with Bunny and Spock which makes me so happy I feel high. I really miss my friends. They truly keep me going. Before when I was hanging out with Jesus and not really talking with anyone I was much more depressed. But, when I know they are behind me supporting me I do a million times better.

When it comes time to go into shelter Nazi Man tells me that I have a reservation upstairs. "Come on," I say arguing through the speaker despite the fact it's damn near impossible to understand people through it, "We just did this two nights ago."
"I know," Nazi Man says, "But you have to go up or sleep outside tonight."
"It's okay," KL says when she realizes I'm determined enough to fight through a buzzer, "Just go up. It's fine."
We hug and she goes upstairs. I wait with Houdini.

One of the guys starts being nosy and vulgar about me being moved up against my will. Most people want to go upstairs. Not me. I call him a dumbass so he calls me a cunt. The next thing I  know Houdini is putting his  backpack down and getting in the guy's face, "Apologize." he says. The guy isn't the brightest crayon in the box and so he keeps going.

"Careful," Houdini says, "That's my girl's best friend. She's like my sister. Apologize to her."

I'm actually pretty caught off guard by this. I'm really not sure what to do. In the end I say, "He's not worth it. He's just mad because he's been trying to get in my pants for months."
"Yeah right," he says though his quavering voice proves my point, "I can get way hotter chicks than you."
"Yeah because girls really love homeless guys."
"I don't fuck homeless girls," he goes on, "They all have Gonorrhea."

My clock says 9pm. I push the buzzer and tell shelter Houdini and I are coming up. When I get up there I tell the staff guy with big gauges that I'm not sure what's going on and that I thought I had two more weeks downstairs. He tells me to wait and he'll look up the notes on me to see if he can get me downstairs. I explain that I had wanted to come up until KL went through some stuff and I didn't want to leave her. I explain I am resistant to change and wasn't prepared to come up right away tonight. He agrees to take responsibility for letting me sleep downstairs.

He walks me down and Nazi Man says, "I already told you, we'll bring your meds up."
I don't say anything to him and instead point to Gauges Guy. Gauges Guy explains the situation and everyone agrees to let me stay in Porch Light at least one more night. I get put in my same bed next to KL. She is laughing hysterically as I sing, "I'm back."
"How did you do that?" she asks.
I shrug. We both can't stop laughing that I somehow managed to get back down again. Neither of us really know how I do these things.
"They just can't get rid of you." she says.
"I'm a bad cold," I tell her, "I just keep coming back."

KL tells me that Blue Eyed Staff Man tried to help himself to one of her rice puddings. She got in his face and yelled, "What are you doing?" She said she almost bit his hand off reaching for  it.
He laughs and says, "Yeah she's aggressive about that pudding."
"Tell me about it," I say.
"Have you ever had rice pudding?" KL asks Blue Eyed Staff Man.
"Yes, I was about to have some tonight."
"Not anymore." KL and I both say almost in unison.

One of the guys agrees to clean all the handles in shelter to earn a smoke break. He cleans the handle of the refrigerator so that it's sparkling white. The rest of the fridge is yellow from old tape and dirty. Now that I think about it it's probably really disgusting that we all eat out of that fridge. It was pretty nasty.

I can't stand sparkly knobs on a yellow dirty fridge so I steal the scrubbing bubbles and boiling water and a rag. I scrape tape off of the fridge with a butter knife and scrub it. Apparently it was another Cinderella identity crisis day for me. ;). Blue Eyed Staff Man asks me if I'm trying to earn a smoke break.

"I don't have any smokes." I say, "I just can't stand it."

I spend twenty minutes scrubbing that fridge. It is sparkling white when I'm done. KL can't stop laughing at me. Staff can't stop laughing at me. People think I'm crazy. I think it's funny. I write a sign that says: "This sparkling clean fridge has been brought you by the M OCD foundation. Donations readily accepted" and tape it to the fridge. I go to bed laughing.

--mm

Day Thirty-Three

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

In the morning Kitten Lady can hardly move. Can't say I blame her. She hasn't slept in three days. We're so slow moving Nazi Man even offers to make her bed. We had the dorm to ourselves over the night so it's a disaster. We always seem to do that when we have our own space. We conquer it with overflowing bags and odd nick knacks.

We go to #1 for breakfast where they are kicking ass at oatmeal. It's especially good so I inhale two bowls like nothing. Crochet Buddy gets Tailia out of his locker for us. KL and I sit outside with the box that holds Tailia's remains. I try to get a tub of rice pudding to stay on the box using yarn. It doesn't want to work but I'm not giving up either. Some guy we've never seen before sits by us making the both of us uncomfortable by trying to butt in to our conversation and acting creepy. We continue on simply ignoring the creeper man. 

"You never give up on anything do you?" she asks.
"No." I say wrapping yarn around the box for the ten billionth time. 
"You make shit happen. You're one of those people if someone tells you you can't do anything you'll do it even if you don't want to just to prove you can."
"Pretty much." I smile. 

The creepy man keeps trying to interject himself in the conversation and we keep ignoring him. Finally, I get the rice pudding secured on the box so we try to leave but he starts following us. I immediately run inside, trying to drag KL with me. The guy screams at us saying, "Nice try but I'm not like that." Neither of us have any idea what he means. I tell the receptionist that he is following us. He trails in behind and grabs the form you do to get a doctor's appointment.

Receptionist Lady tries to call up to Beard Man but she doesn't reach him. She says it looks like Creeper Man is staying put but if he tries to follow us she will call someone. We leave looking behind us to see if we are being followed.

We find Houdini. The three of us go to put Tailia in her final resting place. Getting down to the water is a troublesome task so we decide to drop her from under the bridge. I hand her to KL who holds the box for a few seconds as if unsure then leans over the railing and lets go.

The rice pudding jostles off and to our surprise floats. The box lands in a way that not even half of it gets wet. As a result it also floats. Our idea of a rice pudding weight is a total flop, literally. We watch both the pudding and Tailia float side by side. KL says she can't stand to watch it so we go sit on a bench further down on the water front.

Houdini keeps looking back at the box and says he sees the rice pudding floating by with the box following it. "Tailia is chasing the pudding." KL says.

In total there were three days between putting her down and putting her to rest. A day and a half she was carried around with me. Another day and a half she spent in Crochet Buddy's locker. It's a lot morbid and it's a little bit funny. CB actually told Flippy Hair Guy about the cat in his locker. Flippy Hair Guy responded with, "I don't want to know. I don't want to know."

Lunch is once again salty grilled cheese. Ugh! I didn't even know it was possible to screw up grilled cheese but if there were Olympics for messed up grilled cheese #1 would totally win it. KL showers while I harass Beard Man to make sure he gets her clothing vouchers. He tells me he's good at his job and to leave him alone. But hey, she's my friend so it's my job too.

 I want cookie dough so I decide to walk to Fred Meyer's where they have better cookie dough. Pot Head asks me to smoke a bowl with him. I figure why not? The poor kid has been trying for a month to smoke with me and right now I have no reason not to. And let's face it, I could use some pot in these circumstances.

We go a few blocks down and sit by a clinic. #1 has a two block rule where you can't do any drugs or have sex or do anything stupid basically within two blocks of the building. Hence, going a few blocks down. He pulls out the smallest pipe I've ever seen. he packs it, hits it, then hands it to me. We pass it back and forth until I see a police car coming. He's holding the pipe when I see the car approaching. I hit his hand into the bushes behind us, "Cop."

The cop drives by without even seeing us. Pot Head thanks me for saving both our asses. He lights two cigarettes, Red Marlbrol. I take mine and continue on to cookie dough. He goes back to #1. The cigarette tastes so gross I butt it out on the bridge.

When I get back Kitten Lady is passed out on the bench outside. Her mouth is open so I play with her bottom lip. Not even that wakes her. When she finally does wake she looks like the walking dead and Godzilla made a baby. She's wearing a face mask that has dried and cracked on her face. It's even green. She is so groggy she sways on her feet and she squints her eyes. Her mouth even kind of hangs open.

"Rice pudding," is all that she says.

Dinner upstairs is once again lasagna. It has to be the third time we've had it this week. We are fed it multiple times a day. KL shovels it down her face anyways. #1 staff yells at her because it's almost closing time. She lets them know she doesn't give a fuck. That girl can eat.

When they finally kick us out the three of us go to the water front. We find a tree to lean against. KL lays in Houdini's lap to sleep while I write in my notebooks. Houdini and I are talking when all the sudden he starts yelling, "Sprinklers!" I look up and sure enough the sprinklers have started.

We hurry to grab everything as fast as we can. The first thing I do is shove my notebook in our plastic bag to keep it dry. We run off the grass just in time to jump back from getting blast with a stream of water. "That really would happen to us." I say.

We sit on a bench away from the sprinklers. I continue writing. Houdini asks me the time. I can't find my phone. We search every bag multiple times and both he and I make two trips back and forth between the bench and the tree. No sign of it. I swear I checked the time on it while we were sitting there but we are really left with no option but to see it was left somewhere.

We cut through the park that is the famous site of the Occupy Portland movement. After Occupy the park was completely bulldozed and destroyed. They fenced it off and had police patrol there for months. It's open once again now with a fresh lawn and new bushes. It's probably better now than it was even before Occupy. Still, that's a lot of the 99%'s tax paying dollars to pay for the Occupy movement. I still don't know which side I'm on there.

As we're walking I see the shape of a square in the bag Houdini is carrying. I try to decipher if it might be my phone. I pull it out feeling pretty fucking stupid. It's almost time for shelter anyways though so we walk the rest of the way and go to McDonalds to sit.

On our way we hear loud blasts. All three of us scream. We all think it's a drive by shooting. KL's boyfriend about jumps on the ground.  KL throws herself over me. I grab her. We are all screaming.

It turns out to just be some jackass on a motorcycle. When it happened I though KL threw herself over me like that the way Tailia would jump on her when she was scared. I thought she was coming to me for protection. In reality she had thrown herself over me to cover me completely from the nonexistant bullets. She was trying to protect me.

No one can say this friendship is one sided.

At McDonalds I buy us a medium fry, sodas, and cookies. It's been so long since we've had fries that you'd think they were crack by the way they disappear. When it comes time to go up to shelter we get up without drama. This is a good thing. I'd have no problem throwing a fit if I need to but I'm not in the mood to do it if I don't have to.

Dinner is again lasagna. Surprise, surprise. I'm hungry and I don't want PBJ or ramen so it's another lasagna for me. I play Scrabble with a group of guys; it gets pretty raunchy with beaner and cunt making it on the board. I could have done "whore" but someone stole my "ore" to make "sore". Bitch.

Blue Eyed Staff Man comes over to check our board. He loves Scrabble and is our walking Scrabble dictionary. He knows almost all of it by memory but we often make him look things up in the official online Scrabble dictionary to be sure. Our Scrabble games last for forever because it is actually two bags of letter tiles put together. We have more letters than we have space on the board.

We give up after an extensive debate on IQ. I don't feel like showering so I go to bed committed to waking up in time to grab a shower in the morning. I fall asleep thinking I would be perfectly happy to never see a lasagna again.

--mm

Day Thirty-Two

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

I was right to worry. There is no sign of Kitten lady at oatmeal...I mean breakfast. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt there is something wrong for her to be off the grid this long. She knows that breakfast is the one sure way to find me.  To make matters worse the library has changed its hours so it is no longer open on Mondays. One less place for homeless kids to hang out. To top it off PDX Playdate will be calling the people they intend to hire today. I have to wait hopefully with anticipation for my phone to ring with good news.

With no library I go to Whole Foods with Crochet Buddy and Yougio. I look up information on filing a missing person's report. Because she is 18 and has a drug problem I know the chances of someone believing me are slim. My anxiety is so bad I can't even clear my head enough to write. I can't even see straight. I watch Home Room on Netflix instead and when I can't take it anymore I go to buy cigarettes and to just take a break and breathe in Powells. When I buy the smokes the guy studies my ID then studies me. "You look so young."
"I know I get that a lot."
"You'll be thankful for that when you're older."

I always hate when people say that to me. I learned long ago that people give you less respect when you look young. As if I need more help in that area right now. I smoke several cigarettes breathing a little easier every time I pop one of those menthol bubbles. At Powells I can't resist to buy a new journal. I convince myself I need it.  Armed with that and pencils I feel a teeny tiny bit better. A tad bit more grounded. Oh the things that keep me sane.

At 1:30 I go back to #1 in hopes that KL has shown up. When I get there her boyfriend is smiling like he's just found a whole dollar in the parking meter. "I found her." he says, the knot in my stomach does not disappear. I run to her. I hug her but she doesn't hug back. She sits immobile, staring forward, crying. I hand her a cigarette but she doesn't move to light it. Eventually I light it for her. She holds it but doesn't smoke it. I watch it slowly turn to ash as she sits there too stressed to smoke it. Still crying too damn hard.

She tells me what is possibly the most terrifying story I have ever heard. Made all the more terrifying by the fact that this can happen to us at anytime when we're sleeping outside. She struggled  as she told me what happened in the two days she was missing. I cannot tell all the details for safety reasons but essentially, she was kidnapped and thoroughly frightened. She was made to do things she did not want to do through intimidation and manipulation. One of the men that was involved in kidnapping her she knew because he is good friends with her mother. This is why she trusted them enough to get into the car with them.


One of the people in the car said she didn't want to let KL go because she "knew too much". They stole everything but the clothes on her back. She doesn't even have shoes anymore. She is so shaken up and frightened she keeps looking around and jumping at every little noise. Her hyper vigilance is so bad I'm pretty sure she could make Vampire Girl's head explode.

I ask her if she's eaten. She hasn't. I tell her I'm going to go up and get staff. She begs me not to tell them. I say I won't. She doesn't even want the boyfriend to know. I tell her I won't. I run up the stairs two at a time instead of taking the elevator. I find Mother Goose in the kitchen and tell her that Kitten Lady needs help. We need to get her in shelter for one thing. She needs other help besides.

"Well she has to advocate for herself." she says.
"She can't!" I yell, "She's outside bawling for godsake. She can't even smoke."

Mother Goose says she'll send Beard Man down. I go back and sit with her until Beard Man comes down. We go upstairs to the day room and she tells Beard Man the same story with more gruesome details. She cries hysterically so Beard Man grabs tissues and I grab a cup of water for her but Beard Man drinks it.
Beard Man sends an email to the shelter to ask them to let her in tonight. He tells her he will get her clothing vouchers.

I suggest maybe she go to the clinic to get something for her anxiety. She agrees to go. I ask her if she wants me to go in with her or wait outside. She tells me not to leave her. So, I don't. I follow her in to the doctor's office as if I belong back there. People have gotten so used to us as a twosome they don't even question it. Waiting for the doctor to come in she asks me, "Would you tell?"

I think when asked this question people immediately jump to the conclusion that in her position they would tell. I know from experience that it's not that easy. I think for awhile and say, "I don't know." I want her to tell because I want these people to go to jail. I don't want her to tell because that is going to be a long and difficult process. She says she doesn't want to tell. That eventually they will be caught no matter what. I tell her that it's her decision and no one has the right to tell her anything different.

I somehow manage to get the doctor to prescribe both of us Hydroxine and Clododine for anxiety.

While she's in the shower I go to the grocery store and buy every last tub they have of rice pudding and three things of cinnamon sugar. The lady at the register looks at me and says, "Good stuff huh?"
"My friend loves it. You guys are out of it now."

In total it comes to $40 of my food stamps. I'd say it's worth about 1/4 of my food purchases. I know we'll end up buying that many eventually anyways. While she's in the shower I say, "Bad news, Safeway is out of rice pudding."
"That's okay." She says.
"The good news is I have them all."
She laughs.

While I'm still sitting waiting for her to come out Flippy Hair Guy comes and sits by me.
"I was right there was something wrong." I tell him.
He nods, "What happened?"
"Long story short she was kidnapped. She's safe but pretty traumatized."
"I'm sorry."
"Is it worth it?"
"No."

To his credit Flippy Hair Guy has always disagreed with the BLA system even though for the sake of his job he doesn't vocalize that opinion to anyways outside of clients. Because he is just a recovery person for addiction he doesn't kick anyone out or anything. Disciplinary action is actually something not even in his job description or capabilities but I needed to rant at someone and Flippy Hair Guy is actually pretty good for ranting at. (Also, fun factoid day thirty-two was his 23 month anniversary of sobriety. Go him!)

Beard Man tells me I'm being moving up to Street Light tonight.
"I don't want to." I tell him, "Can I just give my reservation to the next person on the list?"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure as hell not leaving her alone. Will it be okay for me to not go up?"
He nods, "That makes you a good person."
I shrug, "She can't be alone. Not like this."

I don't let her out of my sight at all. I sit outside the door while she showers. After dinner we walk to Western Union to pick up money the rich uncle sent. On our way to Western Union she steps on a shard of glass. We can't get it out right away as we don't exactly have a place to sit. She walks the rest of the way with glass in her foot.

At Western Union the three of us work together to get the glass out. Finally, we get it  and the little sliver comes out orange with her blood. I wipe her foot with an alcohol swab then put three band aids on it in an attempt to cushion it. It's not perfect and she still doesn't have shoes but it'll have to do. Those tetanus shots are coming in handy.

We go to the Dollar Tree in hopes of finding flip flops but no avail, all they have left are kid sizes. We head to Fred Meyer to try and get her to eat. She doesn't though. She says it hurts to swallow. I get her to eat plain rice pudding by saying, "One more bite. We aren't leaving until you eat one more bite."

"When you used to nanny those kids didn't get away with anything did they?"
"No, absolutely not." I say.

We go to shelter and they tell me because of my upstairs reservation I can sleep upstairs or outside. I'm not having any such nonsense so I throw a fit until Director Lady comes outside to talk to me. I tell her a watered down version of what happened and that I cannot and will not leave KL's side. She obliges and allows me to postpone my reservation to stay downstairs with her.

I go in and tell Nazi Man that KL and I need to be next to each other. He instantly says no, we have too many noise warnings.
"Oh hell no," my voice is raising, "That's the whole point of me being in here."
"You can be with her as much as you want outside the dorm but you always talk when you are in the dorm together."

I throw a fit so loud Director Lady comes flying down the stares. I have no hesitation about standing on my toes to get in  Nazi Man's face despite the fact he is almost two feet taller than me. He will let me sleep with KL so help me God or he will never hear the end of it. Director Lady sits me down in the red chairs and I rant for a good twenty minutes about how if BLAs had an alternative KL never would have been hurt. She is trying so hard but no will even give her the chance. After hearing an earful she puts us in the same dorm but I'm still not done. I cannot fathom how she is justifying a little girl like KL sleeping outside for the sake of enforcing the rules.

I continue to yell at other staff members until I am crying. Even Jesus offers me sour gummies in an attempt to calm me down. I shake my head. Crochet Buddy hugs me and KL both but I'm not calming down. I cannot believe this situation has even happened. When I finally decide that I'm bored of throwing a fit (or the Clododine kicks in) I sit outside KL's shower stall. 

"I fucking love you," she says, "You're so crazy."
"Well, I wasn't going to let them get away with that nonsense."

I go to bed telling KL to wake me up if she needs me. She doesn't though and instead stays up crying all night on Jamie's shoulder while I sleep completely oblivious.

--mm

Day Thirty-One

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

Kitten Lady does not meet me outside of shelter like she promised she would so we could send Tailia off. I wait until almost 11am, leaving only to pee and buy cookie dough. I finally give up assuming that she will show up for lunch as she always goes to #1. I go to Whole Foods to get caught up on my life on the wide, world, web.

She doesn't show up for lunch. I know something is very, very wrong. People tell me I'm being a drama queen and that she is off with her boyfriend or her mother. I know she would not ditch Tailia like that. I try not to think of it and go to the library so I can get caught up on my Dance Moms. Dinner comes and once again no sign of her. I'm borderline panicking. Where is she?

I go to Whole Foods and have some time by myself and to catch up with friends over instant messaging. I leave Whole Foods earlier than necessary, confident that she will show up at the fountain. She never misses the fountain because it's time to say goodnight to everyone. Even people who are kicked out often go to the fountain to say goodnight before everyone else goes up into shelter.

Except she's not there either. I find her boyfriend who says he didn't see her at all. I am officially panicking. I know something is seriously wrong if he hasn't even seen her. We go online to see if she was possibly arrested. She wasn't. Part of me wishes she were. Then I'd know she was in one piece and safe.

I go to shelter without seeing her. I sit with Crochet Buddy and Kitty and Yougio but I can't even participate in the conversation. I keep wondering where the hell she might be. I'm terrified she's raped or dead. I'm worried no one will ever find her because there won't be enough people to care about her to look. I'm worried something terrible happened to her but I'm more worried that something terrible happened and we will never know because no one will care enough to find out. I'm afraid she's dead and I just have to spend the rest of my life wondering where she is.

Flippy-Hair-Guy comes around and when I tell him she's missing he says, "She probably doesn't want to be found."
I'm pretty sure my eyes could have shot arrows right then, "She was supposed to meet me. She doesn't just not show like that. Not for an entire day. Not with what we had to do today. She's in trouble. She doesn't just bail like that unless there is something wrong. All because staff wanted to enforce rules."
"Rules suck." Flippy Hair Guy says.
"No, this isn't about wanting to not have rules. It's about how they are enforced. If she's dead tonight is it worth it to enforce the rules?"
"No." He says and everyone falls silent.

Drama Girl asks me to help her straighten her hair. The smell of fried, sizzling hair takes me back to California where I worked five years in a hair salon, my first job. It's weird but burnt hair is actually a comforting smell to me.

"You don't have any family do you?" Drama Girl asks me.
I shake my head and run my fingers through her bleached hair, "No."
I put her hair between the two metal plates and clamp it. I pull it down and watch her curly hair fall out straight, "Just me, a family of one."
"Where are they?"
I shrug, "My brother is in California but we don't talk because he's selling drugs and he's mean on drugs."
"What about your mother?"
"California. We don't talk. We definitely don't talk."
"Who do you have then?" She asks.
I brush her hair slowly. It's nice doing hair for someone else again. I contemplated cosmetology school back in the day. "Friends," I say, "Not so much my friends here but the ones out of state. They check up on me and send me things sometimes."
"Do they just send you things you need?"
"Kind of," I say, "They know what's going on so they send things I need or things I want or even things other people need."
"That's nice."
I nod and run the brush through her hair again.
"Did you guys find KL?"
I shakes me head.
"Not even her boyfriend saw her?" she asks.
Again, I shake my head.
"That's scary." She says.
"It is. I'm worried. I worry about everyone."
"Do you worry about Dreadlocks?" She asks.
"Sometimes," I say, "Not now that he's in jail."

Later as I'm getting read for bed Pot Head comes in high on pot, Oxy, and Xanx.
"Will you marry me?" He asks me for the ten trillionth time. He really likes asking me to marry him when he's high.
"No. I will not." I say.
"I want a baby." He says.
"You're the last person on earth I'd trust with a baby."
"Will you have my baby?" he asks me, "Carry it in your womb for nine months?"
"My womb doesn't work. It's out of commission." (I shouldn't say this it's not entirely true.)
"I'll make it work," he determines, "I'll insalmonate you."
It takes everyone a few seconds to register what he just said and then everyone starts laughing so hard we get noise warnings but we can't stop.
"How exactly does that work?" Jesus asks, "Do you shove a salmon up her vagina?"
"And that's how vaginas came to smell like fish." someone else interjects.

Even laughing hysterically at the intelligence of Pot Head I can not shake my worry that my friend is hurt or dead.

--mm

One Month Stats

The Status: Pretty fucking homeless
The Favorite Song: Trapped-Full Blown Rose
The Favorite Dance Mom: Christi
Favorite Meal: Oatmeal!!
Who I want to kick in the face: Pitbull
The Worst Injury: Tie between concussion and Tetnus shot
The Most idiotic thing I've done: gauging ears in walmart
The Most interesting meal: lasazchinlada: We still don't know if it was supposed to be lasagna or an enchilada.
The Worst Meal: Suspicious Pasta Dish because we still don't know what it is and they serve it several times a week.
World's Biggest Douchebag: Tie between Bitch Lady and Pitbull Owner
Favorite Act of Kindness: The guy handing us the umbrellas while waiting for the bus in the rain.
Favorite Staff: Nazi Man
Favorite One Liner: QWIT LYING BITCH LADY. You got shot with a blast of semen in the face. Not spayshul.

Vomit Tally: 3ish
Nights Slept Outside: One
Who gave me the biggest headache: Pot Head, literally
Spencer: Getting fat, cheating on Puppy, misses Momma but likes having friends
Favorite Moment: Being handed a job application in street clothes after being cussed out.
The Body: Technically, I've gained weight. And I think I'm getting chubby but you also need to account for the fact that every time I've been weighed it has been right after a meal. Also, I'm gaining muscle. I'm fucking buffing the hell up. I am almost as fit as I used to be when I played water polo minus health problems. My bag weighs a hell of a lot. Most of the weight comes from my laptop but can you imagine where we'd all be without that?
The Things I Miss Most: Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, Movie Nights,  pillows, laundry that doesn't take 3 hours,  Jamba Juice, my bed and blankets, books, Disney movies lulling me to sleep, sharing a bathroom with a guy who has aim (at 3 years old!), dressing cute and pretty, not having to carry everything I own everywhere I go, Jelly Bean, school, Spencer Spencer Spencer.
Outsiders: I've found that most people either stare or pretend you don't exist. I've started to ignoring the existence of other people even though I used to chit chat with strangers on a regular basis. I just don't have it in me to befriend strangers anymore. They don't like talking to homeless kids.
Insiders: I think what's difficult is there is no place to find peace and harmony. OI is your best bet but even inside the Jaunas youth program there is hate and discrimination.
Faith in Humanity: Hanging in there

Feel free to comment with the stats you'd like to see. Keep me busy so I don't lose my mind!

Introspective Bullshit About One Month

Four months ago I didn't even really know the term "street kid". I didn't think anything of the bums on the sidewalk or kids lugging around backpacks and sleeping bags. I thought I lived in a liberal place that had wiped out segregation, racism and prejudice years ago. I've since learned I am very wrong.

I've been a “street kid” for a month now. Even so it feels like it's been a lot longer since I was “the new girl”. It's weird. I'm easily adaptable so it doesn't take me long to learn how to survive an unusual circumstance. People tell me all the time that they don't know how I do this or that they think they would not make it if they were in my shoes. All I can say is that if you were in the situation you'd survive too. You'd be amazed at what you're capable of when your life depends on it.

Humans are resilient. Every time you think you may not make it through some horrible circumstance or that you will never feel happy again you find that you do survive and happiness comes back around. You may be a different person by the end of it but you'll still be alive.

I have too much to live for to consider giving up. I can't fall into the trap of street life or drugs or any of this. It wouldn't just hurt me if I did. I'd be hurting all of my friends that have been supporting me and investing in me. I would be hurting my darling kitten Spencer. I'd be hurting the other street kids I try to look out for. I'd be giving The Womb a clean slate she doesn't deserve. Upchuck would win. I cannot give in.

If it weren't for my friendships I wouldn't be here. My friends tell me daily that I need to focus on myself first but if they lived that way I wouldn't still be standing. My friends have been so selfless and compassionate; I am amazed at how they treat even total strangers. They do this knowing that I will probably never be able to pay them back. They do this not even knowing the names of the kids that they are helping.

My bunny friend has teamed with her mother to get a care package for me. She asked me for a list of needs and wants so I sent her quite the extensive one of both things for myself and things for the other street kids. She emailed me later saying that she got her mother on board and they will be sending a package of things they already had around their house as well as some new things they are buying even though money is tight. Her mother works in the NICU and said that she will send medical supplies for emergencies. They know a lot of these things will be going to complete strangers.

My sleepy friend sent me a comfort care package. Those coffee candies he sent are so orgasmic I save them only for special occasions. I'm now addicted to the show "The Walking Dead" and the video games help keep me nostalgic and entertained. Spock ensures I get a verbal lashing when I'm being too damn stupid for my own good and let my body go all drama queen.

And those are just my friends out of state.

Savior Man consistently goes above and beyond, not only for me but for my friends on the street. Every time I ask him for help I feel bad and every time he says, “I'm happy to help.” When I asked him to help my Kitten Lady friend he told me, “A friend of a friend is a friend to me.”

Only two friends in the area know where I'm living. I really only go to see Savior Man. I feel so bad sometimes when I ignore calls or intentionally isolate myself by making excuses or not responding to people. I'm just embarrassed and I don't want to burden people or be pitied. At least my friends out of state don't physically see how I'm living. 

I have a friend, Jelly Bean, who actually started an organization to help homeless people. She is the sweetest person I know and that is no exaggeration. She was messaging me about hanging out for awhile but I kept putting it off until she gave up. I know she would respond with nothing but compassion but I still cannot bring myself to tell her where I am or why. 

I wonder sometimes about what would happen if all my friends knew. Would I be able to do more/help more with more support behind me or would I end up being judged and ridiculed? I don't want to pretend I understand what it's like to be in the LGBQT community but this is my own coming out of sorts. My friends know so little about me when I think about it. I still wish I had the courage to come clean to the ones like Jelly Bean.

Then again that would be one more person saying, “Take care of yourself.”

Even with all the wonderful support I have it's still a difficult lifestyle. It's so exhausting. I feel I'm whiny and redundant on this but I have no idea how to convey how tiring this is. Sometimes I wonder if all the fights that happen are due to exhaustion rather than immaturity or drug use.

I don't think it's possible to be lower on the totem pole in human life than to be homeless. I'm no stranger to the idea that people can be cruel but this is a different form of cruelty. We aren't even seen as human. A few days ago I sat on the ground to tie my shoe while I was waiting for the max. Some guy walking down the sidewalk simply stepped over my leg with his nose in the air as if I was just a piece of garbage. He looked smug about it too; proud that he made sure I knew what he thought of me.

Cops harass us. Segregation exists. If you don't believe me look at all the signs on buildings in downtown saying “no sitting or laying here” or “No public restroom” or “Paying customers only” “Police enforced.” I'm not saying businesses don't have a right to how they conduct their business; I'm just saying they are pretty damn aggressive at kicking us out. There are laws so silly no one else thinks about but they are targeted at us like not being able to use a blanket when you nap at waterfront because that is considered “camping”. Or the sit/lie ordnance which has been ruled unconstitutional but some officers still try to enforce. (For those outside of Portland it was a law made banning homeless people from sitting on the ground. They literally made it illegal to sit down).

We are accused of stealing for just going into a gas station. People stare. They walk past us like we are invisible. Shelter staff bully us. We are illegal. Guilty until proven innocent.

Yet, the degrading things people do are not the things I remember. What I remember are the acts of kindness that happen every day. In these circumstances not even the smallest act of compassion goes unnoticed.

The other day while in line at Whole Foods another register opened. The old man behind me let me go first even though he could beat me to it. Once, when we still had Tailia, Kitten Lady and I went into the McDonald's bathroom to clean up. A woman came in and asked about the kitten and how old she was. She asked if the kitten did okay sleeping outside. She talked to us like equals, real human beings, even though she knew what we are. She didn't judge us for keeping a kitten while we were homeless.

After Tailia was attacked by the pit-bull and we were taking her to the vet it started pouring down rain. Someone pulled over by the bus stop where we were waiting and brought us out umbrellas before getting back into his car and driving off again without even giving us his name. I was left speechless at this as I had been trying to calm down Kitten Momma so that she didn't stress Tailia out more. When that young man handed us the umbrellas we were both moved at his kindness and relieved we could keep Baby Girl dry.

Mother Goose gave me a blanket and Beard Man found me a place to sleep. My uncle sends me money and my friends are the most amazing people on the planet. If I don't post they check up on me so I know people care. I am so, so, so blessed. My needs are met. I feel cared about. That's more than most in shelter can say.

I believe that most people are neither good or bad but various mixtures of both. We all have our faults, scars, the great parts and the not so great parts. It's okay to have imperfections because they make us all the more varied and beautiful. If we were all perfect and flawless it would be a very boring life. There's something worthwhile about overcoming the most difficult places. It keeps life interesting.

Even with the abuses from people who will never understand our lives I retain my hope in humanity as I consistently see street kids rise above the hate and discrimination. It's not easy to make the choice to be the better person when people treat you like the gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe. We don't always meet that challenge but sometimes we do.

You'd never guess it but even street kids dream. Even Pot Head hopes to grow up and be successful someday. Those tortured by addiction dream of getting clean. Mothers dream of holding their children again. I think we all dream of having a “home” again someday. We just keep our dreams locked away where only we can touch them so they don't become tainted.

One month has changed so much in me. I used to think racism no longer existed but I've watched as the black boys have been profiled time and time again. I thought segregation died in the '60s. It hasn't. Maybe it's not as explicit but we are segregated based off of economical bias. Homeless people are banned from so many places I couldn't even begin to list them. Even if it's not stated by signs or laws we are harassed until we leave. Police are called on us for things as small as buying candy bars. Children are taught to look away. We are banned from grocery stores, bathrooms, restaurants, churches, malls, movies, convenience stores, parks. I'm not saying all these things should be free but I am saying it's kept separated from us as we are not seen as part of society. It may not be racism but it is prejudice. It is hate.

I used to think that people who kept their animals with them on the streets were cruel. I no longer believe this. Often homeless pets are better taken care of than their owners. Plus, it gives people something to live for and prevents the animals from being killed in overflowing shelters.

Homeless kids are neither stupid or lazy. We don't get to sleep on real beds or pillows. We never get to sleep in or nap. Even though we are prone to sickness in crowded quarters and consistent exposure to the elements we don't get a place to rest even if we are sick. The best you get is an office floor. Sleeping in shelter is loud, hard, and stressful. Even when we are perfectly healthy and happy we are tired and drained.

Tempers run hot. Mental illness is rampant in street kids. Just about everyone has depression which should come as no surprise. Then there's kids like Vampire Girl who has mood swings so rapid not even a jack rabbit could keep up with her or the girl in the big dorm who talks to herself all night long. We have a guy with split personality disorder and a shit ton of bipolar kids.

Boys by far out number the girls. Gays and transgenders have a strong presence in our population as well. I'd say 75% of shelter does some form of drug other than booze or pot. They are addicted to meth, heroin, cocaine; take your pick. Probably 90% at least indulge in pot and alcohol. 

It's not a great life. I do not think anyone is really happy with it, even those that live outside willingly. We are riddled with scars whether they be caused by needles, razor blades, or the hands of someone else. It doesn't matter where they came from. All scars run deep.  

--mm

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” --Kahlil Gibran

Day Thirty

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

It was a hot, sticky, wet day to be homeless. I woke up tired and frustrated at my lack of sleep. I walked past the spot my kitten friend sleeps when she sleeps outside. I didn't see her so I walked past the clinic then went to our agreed upon meeting spot. I wanted to get online to work on the blog so I sat outside of Starbucks. When my computer started to die I went inside and used their outlets. I kept peeking out the window to look for her.

At 10:15 (we were supposed to meet by 10am) I went and sat back by the big chess board. At 10:45 I gave up and went to the library. Now, I must be honest and say I was rather impatient in my leaving like that. It was honestly really selfish; the only reason I left was because I wanted to work on the blog. Bailing on a friend when she needs me just so I can write is pretty shitty. I could have just stuck to pen and paper and waited longer not even writing is more important than being there for a friend.

At the library I ran into Crochet Buddy and Kitty. After about an hour I left with them to go on a food shopping spree at Safeway. Crochet Buddy's food stamps get refilled tomorrow and he didn't use much of them so he told us to go crazy and get whatever we wanted. We went crazy. I made sure to grab two rice puddings for Kitten Lady. We went to Whole Foods to eat the food undisturbed.

I continued to work on the blog until 1pm where I dragged myself to #2 in hopes that KL would show up there. She didn't but the person who was supposed to go out and get her a kitten did. Jamie is a female-male transgender who some nights sleeps in the girls dorm, other nights the boys dorm. Jamie asked if I wanted to go with him to get the kitten. I decided to tag along.

I edited my blog on the max as we went. When I had done all I could do I grabbed my Steinbeck. I'll be honest I'm not all that happy with Travels with Charely. I know I should not dis someone who pretty much fathered American literature but I'm really not happy with John on this one.  I feel like he is pretending to be a bum for the sake of writing a book and quite frankly he's not so great at being homeless. I know I'm one to talk on this one but it's not like I profit from writing this blog. I write it so people don't think I'm dead and to keep myself sane. And I readily admit I'm quite terrible at being homeless. 

I haven't spent much time with Jamie before. We just aren't in the same clique. But because being transgender is something I don't understand I've always wanted to befriend him so I can get his story and maybe get a better understanding of what that is like to go through.

We were supposed to meet the person with the kitten outside of the Beaverton library. We both felt awkward because the area looked so rich and fancy compared to what we are used to. I went inside the library to use the bathroom and look around. When I go back outside I tell Jamie, "There are definitely no street kids here."

A lady right behind me asked if we were waiting for the kitten. I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I just told the woman we were trying to get a cat from that we are homeless. She asked us twice if we had a place to sleep. We lied. She went off to get the kitten but took so long Jamie and I were both convinced she had ditched us. Eventually she did come back with a huge green carrier.

She brought out the kitten, a soft long haired black cat. She said it was born on April 7. My birthday. The kitten was big (compared to Tailia) and frightened, clawing up both our backs and squirming so much the three of us could not control her. I knew instantly that Kitten Lady would not want this kitten. There was no way we'd get it in and out of shelter. What were we supposed to do though? We had gone all the way to Beaverton to get this cat.

I finally got the cat calm enough to walk to the bus stop where we more or less tried to tame her. She got cozy on Jamie's backpack so we left her there after putting Tailia's pink leash on her. It made me sad to put the leash on her. It didn't feel right; I made it for Tailia not this monster kitten. However, holding onto that leash wouldn't do any of us any good.

The bus finally came but wouldn't let us on because the cat wasn't in a carrier.
"It's the law." The driver said rudely.
"It's not the law it's Trimet policy dumbass." Jamie retorted.

Either way we were still stranded. We tucked the kitten in Jamie's backpack for the second bus. When we got on the cat let out its ferocious meow. Heads turned following Jamie's bag. Personally, I just laughed my ass off.

We decided to give the cat to the male to female transgender in the small dorm with Kitten Lady and me. She had been wanting a black cat. If she didn't want the kitten we would put it on Craigslist. Jamie talked about letting it go but I absolutely refused to do that.

We went back to #2 so Jamie could pass the cat on and I could try to find Kitten Lady. I was drained beyond reckoning so I curled up in an arm chair to rest until #2 closed or KL showed up. When she hadn't shown by closing time I was thoroughly worried.

Kitty, Crochet Buddy, Yougio, and I went to Goodwill so I could buy some track pants. As I was walking down an aisle an old fat lady in front of me let a ginormous fart rip. I was pretty sure it was so loud it echoed.  Then the old lady looked back out of the corner of her eye to see if I heard it. I'm pretty sure my facial expression let her know I heard it loud and clear.

"Dude I totally just got farted on." I told the boys.
"The weirdest things happen to you." Crochet Buddy said.

We spent the rest of the night waiting at Whole Foods since it was raining and hot and sticky out. I took it as an opportunity to get caught up on the blog and eat cookie dough. I tried not to worry about my Kitten Lady but couldn't help it. Once we were in the general vicinity of of shelter I heard her call me name.

"Where are you?" I yelled.
"Over here." I finally spotted her across by the porn shop.

We ran to each other and hugged. I kept telling her how worried I was. Apparently we had both been at the park but had just not seen each other. Her boyfriend said that he lost my number which she said she thought was a lie of jealousy. I gave her a pudding and the rest of the cookie dough. I wrote my number on a piece of the Whole Food's bag. We agreed to meet outside of shelter tomorrow. I'm worried about her sleeping outside but feel somewhat better now that I found her all in one piece.

--mm