Amageddon has begun

In my lifetime I never that I would see a black president. I loved having him as president and I am sad to see him leave.

Also in the same lifetime, I have seen a ring of hell open up and the opposite of Obama was elected to office somehow. The most disgusting human being alive, most literally. 

Everyone I know is in shock, angry and sad. There are even tears happening. I am disappointed as hell, but I will not cry. I will not be afraid.

My friend Jon said it eloquently this morning; that we have to get involved and be on the front lines and fight. 

My other friend James quoted " This will be the best thing to happen to punk since the Reagan era."

He could be onto something.

The anger we are all feeling as John Lydon put it " Anger is an energy."

If harnessed, can propel us to the stratosphere. Can fuel our creativity, our passion for our communities, make people who had previously been undecided about where they stand into community activists. 

Preparing ourself financially, spiritually and physically for whatever shenannigans may be afoot by the current cheeto in charge.

I encourage all of my friends to focus, and stay woke. CREATE! GET MOVING! Don't sit crying over this rigged election. Get prepared for this fight.

In there like swimwear...kind of

I had to get up early so I could get to the housing place. My car was full of stuff. Luckily they had an old shopping cart so I could wheel my stuff into the building. I waited quite a while till the manager came out. Then he wanted to give us a tour of the building. There was a mountain of paperwork to do, which I wasn't prepared for. Then an inspection. I was like 'I have to get to work can we hurry this up.' I was thinking it, not saying it of course. I finally got everything in the room and stuffed into the closet for later. It will probably be the weekend before I can go through everything and get stuff sorted. The room is very nice. Like a hotel room. I just hope the bed is comfortable. I want to get a rug so I can do my floor excercises.

So I finally got to work and was looking forward to seeing the hot intern. He wasn't here. No one heard from him. He text the boss mom saying ' He didn't think he could reach his potential at our company.' So he basically quit after a day.
This is typical.

I mean, I see a guy and am wildly attracted to him, and he leaves me flat. SOOOOooOOOoooo my life. 

But enough of that. Now all about me. Onward and upward.

...and then the sky opened.

On Wednesday I was driving and got a text from my case manager. She said that she got an e mail that I was to have an interview the following Friday. I was like finally. Later that day I got a call from a woman who wanted to confirm that I would be at this meeting. I told her absolutely! Progress!

On Friday I was early and waited for my interview for housing. This guy T came out to greet me and take me to the conference room to wait for L. When L came in she was just as I imagined, except in great physical shape. She asked me why I was homeless, and I explained to her what happened. How when I was in school a full time job wasn't happening. I told her I applied a year prior, and that when I was at the emergency shelter applied again with my case manager J. She was shocked. She didn't know I had been in the emergency shelter, and filled out another application. She tells me " Had I gotten a hold of that information, you could have been in months ago." J just happened to be on vacation so she couldn't ask her about it. The interview went great, and she said she was sure she could get me in the following week. RELIEF!

But I still had to make it through the remaining days. My boss mom is in town so she invited me to stay at the house. To sleep in a bed feels so great. 

Our intern from Finland arrived on Monday and DAMN! This man is beautiful! Tall, brown, tatted bald with an accent. Just so gorgeous I can't believe it. I tried not to stare at him because I was sure I would burst into giggling. So I tried staying businesslike and busy all day. He left early to get a ride with the boss back to his house. That night the game was on and mad people were at the boss' house to watch. Next thing I know here he comes with beer and a girl in tow. My boss offers the girl smoke out on the porch. He makes it a point to tell us 'she's like a little sister to him.' She lives in NY and came for a visit. We watch the game, and my team loses. We all sit and talk. I guess she was once from Finland as well at one point. I ask questions about their country. About fashion, music and movies. It starts to get late so they leave because she has to catch her plane home.

All night I dreamed of him in every way imaginable. He's the right (younger) age. His son is 16 so he probably is cool in that area. He's creative. Did I mention gorgeous? He doesn't smoke weed either. Thank God. I started looking forward to the next day. But he didn't show up. I called the boss mom to see if she'd heard from him. She told me his friend missed her plane, so he wouldn't be in today.

Missed her plane huh? I got a little jealous. I hope there isn't a surprise like she isn't going back and now they are in a relationship.

Ugh.

I don't need that.

Shut out continues

Of course first thing in the morning I started calling. A new receptionist answers. I ask if R, D or L are there. R is there, hold please. She comes back on the line, and he won't take my call. 

OK

Then is L there. She isn't yet but when she comes in, she won't be taking calls. 

OK

How about D. She will be in soon.

I'll call back in an hour.

An hour passes and I call back. Is D there. Yes she is. Who's calling? I say my name. I get put on hold. Magically D gets on the phone. I explain how a week ago TODAY, L told me I was clear to move in. The housing manager has to call me. I have been trying ever since. She says she's going into a meeting, so she can get some answers for me. She'll call me in 10 minutes.

I think " That's a short meeting." Meetings are usually longer than 10 minutes. It seems like all these people do is go to meetings, and trainings, and retreats. DO they actually do any work with the homeless? I mean....

I am at the end of my patience. I know she isn't going to call back in 10 minutes. It's like the last times, when she was supposed to call me back and then LEFT for the day. I'll be shocked if I ever hear from her again. 

I called the emergency shelter manager to see if she could offer some advice or insight into this matter. She was busy with a client, then when I called back it was Ill give her the message. It's as if the word has circulated to 'not talk to me'. No one will talk to me. When I say my name, it's as if I am on some list when I have been banned for life. But no one told me. They are just doing it behind my back. 

It's the principal at this point. People want to ignore you so you will just go away. But fuck that shit. I'm going to get more and more annoying. Because of how you are handling the situation. The avoidance thing is a trigger for me. I think for everyone it is. When people won't listen to you, acknowledge you, or even engage with you- it makes you feel some type of way. Which is not good. Might even insight anger.

I am not the one, seriously. 

I am not here for this type of treatment. If you aren't going to have me move in for whatever reason SAY SO!!! Don't just play games! Don't just put me on ignore.

It's rude
it's disrespectful
it's immature
it's unbusinesslike
it's dismissive

get with the program people.

-------amendment

The last call I made the receptionist put me on hold and came back and parroted " You are going to have to hold on a minute because they are still filling out paperwork."

How much fucking paperwork needs to be filled out to move someone into a shelter program? As many as I have been in in my life it has never taken this long. I've been waiting a YEAR, and a month to get in. The past 6 months we have been in consistent contact because I was in emergency shelters that had exit dates. FOR 3 weeks I have been squatting. HOW FUCKING LONG DOES IT TAKE TO FILL OUT PAPERWORK?!!

FUCK!

Rhetorical Anger

As per usual I spent the day calling the shelter. As per usual the people I wanted to speak with were 'unavailable'. This is really pissing me off to the point where I really want to do one of my notorious pop ups. It's more like a pop up and sit in. I sit there till someone tells me what I need to know. These people work in a field with people who are in crisis and homeless, then dodge them all day? I am really getting to the point where I am about to really get in people's faces. I can't take this treatment weeks on end. Do they even wonder where I am when they are dodging me? If I am safe? If I have a place to stay? Do they give a fucking greasy shit? I am so tired of squatting. Of course my inflatable bed is half deflating. The top half where my upper body and butt is started losing air. The bottom half with my legs, full of air. So I flipped upside down to sleep. My feet were in a ditch even though I put one of my pillows in it. There is a pump, but I don't know if there is a leak or not. I want to sleep in a bed!

I want to take a shower every night if I want to. If there is a super hot day, I want to shower after without using my gas. My boss mom came to visit and gave me a nice perfume set. I thought that was nice of her. No one has given me anything like that in a thousand years. A teacher once bought me Bill Blass when I graduated my vocational class. That was like 20 some odd years ago. 

I did a bunch of drawings for the women's line last night. I have to find black zippers for my new motorcycle jacket. I think I want a nice pastel linen motorcycle jacket. Our meeting with the guys who want to license us is in two days, and we have to straighten this place up. It's not bad, but it's not good either. It's a tiny workspace. 

I have been craving new clothes like crazy. But I want to start losing weight. I can't wait for the weight to come off. That's all I dream about. That and my new boyfriend. Whomever he may be. 

Tomorrow I will make more phone calls. HopefullyI won't be here ten more days. My rapid rehousing appointment is on the 15th. I doubt it will be something that happens ironically; rapidly. It would be great if it did.

But I am on the low end of the homeless totem pole.

Not mentally ill

not a mother

don't have HIV or AIDS

not on drugs

not fresh out of rehab

not fresh out of prison

not fleeing domestic abuse

not a veteran.

All of these people will get housed before me.

I need help and no one gives a shit.

No crisis here, enjoy your weekend.

So on Tuesday I finally got the lady L on the phone. She said I was all set to move in, just had to get the housing manager D to sign something and I would be in by the end of the week. A little relief, but I will be relieved when I am all moved in and laying in my bed in my room. So I held my breath. Call me tomorrow after 3. Ok no problem. I call Wednesday after 3, can't get her on the phone. Call all day Thursday, nothing. Then Friday morning I call. She isn't in yet. I call several more times. Nothing. Last night inside the warehouse was hot. Uncomfortable. Outside is the perfect cool breezy temperature. But I don't have any windows I can open, and I can't stand the door open because technically I am supposed to be on the low. Some people leave their lights on over night so lights being on isn't strange. I try not to have them on super late. I wish I had just a lamp I could use. But Friday was blazing hot. The first really hot 90 something day. Inside the warehouse there is only one working fan. It's not enough. There is no way to put an A/C unit in because the windows don't open. So with the door closed it's easily 15 degrees hotter. I wanted to sleep with air or at least a window I could open. At 4pm I got someone on the line. It was D's secretary. She asked if she could have D call me back in 5. I said yes. I had to drive to pick up supplies, but I would be driving longer than 5 minutes. I take my phone with me into the place so I don't miss the call. I get back in the car and still no call. It's been at least a half an hour. I call back. D is gone for the day. For the weekend actually. Oh really? NICE! THATS AWESOME! It's not like anyone is homeless or anything. I mean SERIOUSLY?!!!! Sometimes I wonder if they even know what business they are in. I got overwhelmed with anger, and frustration. I just went limp. I thought about crying, but what good would that do? I felt hollow. Invisible. I pictured screaming and cursing at this woman. You have hot water, a shower, a toilet, air conditioning, a bed that isn't a blow up mat on the floor. I guess I should be grateful I don't have to sleep in my car. That my boss is cool with me crashing here. I just am starting to feel like people are figuring out that I am here. I didn't expect to be here as long as I have. Just a couple of days. It's been two going into three weeks. I feel embarrassed. Like something is wrong, and I can't fix it. 

THis huRTS.

silence

I was remembering back in grade school when you and your girls were obsessed with boys. Back then it was no big deal to call a boy, and there was no big penalty for doing so. As you got older however, boys became these fortresses that we could never climb. There would come times when you waited and waited for him to call, then got tired of waiting and called him. You knew when he would be home, but he wouldn't come to the phone. There may have been times when his mother would talk you out of calling ever again. Talk about awkward at school.  

I think of all this in my current situation. It's been two weeks since the shelter I was in closed and I literally have had no where to go. I call every day and no one will come to the phone. The receptionist screens the calls and it's as if when I say my name it's an automatic dump into voice mail. Can't anyone tell me anything? Why will no one talk to me? Are they just 'ghosting' me like people do now adays? Just ignore her and she'll go away. It's the principal of the fucking thing, how do you have a job where you are supposed to help people and you don't even have a conversation with anyone about anything? Just on ignore week after week. Naturally I am resentful and angry. I try and keep it business like when I call, and not be all emotional on the phone or start telling the receptionist about my issues. Something about this feels disgustingly familiar. It seems to happen when black women are in charge of resources that you need. They may perceive you in a way they don't like. They don't like that your'e persistent, or that you will talk to their supervisor, or that you have a degree; so they use the little power they have to stick it to you. They find something about your personality to be either threatening, or off putting so they play power games with you. This is getting me to the point of wanting to really get loud on some fucking people about the way they handle their business. On tuesday I have an interview with the rapid rehousing people and hopefully they will help me get an apartment so I don't even have to deal with this bullshit anymore.

I'm getting achy and tired because it's that time of the month. It's amplified because of my situation. Emotional and angry more than usual. I wanted to crash at the bosses house, but they are kids, and have everyone under the sun staying there this weekend, so I got offered.....drumroll.........

THE GARAGE!

Yep you read that right. I said the garage. You know who stays in the garage? Animals. Granted this garage is one of those higher end ones, it's still a garage. There isn't a bed to sleep in, just a blow up chair like at the shop. I mean can you make some fucking effort and at least get another folding cot? I feel humiliated. As hard as I work, I should warrant a bed. I was so tired after work, I couldn't see myself driving an hour to arrive to a house full of drunk kids, only to excuse myself to go to sleep in the garage like the family pet. I still can't really bring myself to do it. I really need to wash and rebraid my hair though. The scalp needs it bad. The boss and her girl have been fighting, the brother has a new girlfriend, then a friend from Vegas and his girl will be there, with their resident guy on the couch. 7 people. And me in the garage. I feel some type of way about this. I wanted to get a hotel room around here in the hood for the weekend, but oh I don't make enough. Plus she hasn't paid me my whole check yet anyway.

It's memorial day weekend, so the swapmeet will be a crazy place. I wanted to get my hair did, but everyone will be doing the same. My event is sunday and I want to look nice. I had the guys make me a cute dress. My boss girl willed me some white shell top adidas, which I have always wanted. So I will rock those. I want to get a fake dookie chain from the prank store in hollywood to complete my outfit. 

I walked alot today for work and my ankle swelled up. I wonder if a doctor can do anything about this or if it's just me losing the weight finally. I am eating nothing but junk food so swollen ankles is about right. I'm on the verge of cankles, and we can't have that. If anything will make you feel old, cankles is it. While I was out getting supplies in the fashion district there was this morbidly obese man sitting on the side walk begging for money. He was clearly homeless and he smelled awful. I have seen him before, and I try as best I can not to do the look away, or pretend he isn't there to any homeless person. You have to admit the state some homeless people live in is jarring. I get so burnt out on seeing black men in this state. He sat there talking about how no one will help him. Then said, 'I have to start committing crimes around here.' I was like whoa. So it's like that? I was reaching to give him dollar when he said it. I am without a home too, and I am giving him money as he sits there in his own filth. I get upset if I can't shower every other day. But I am not an addict either. Nor am I mentally ill. I saw my dollar going in slow motion into his hand. I couldn't help but think of all of the agencies that would help him out before they would me because I am a functioning adult, who can care for herself, drive a car and hold a job. I saw my dollar going into this man's hand and all I could think was 'why don't you help yourself?' I got angry. I got resentful. That would be my last dollar to this man. 

In this state I need normalcy. Interaction with people in a normal way. I don't want to feel like I am hiding from the world. But when I reach out to some, they don't reach back. Which adds to my feeling they way I do. It's a mix of sad, angry, resentful, upset and just plain old fashioned pissed off. I want to get outside my feelings and zone out. When I can't it grows. 

There is this guy that goes to church a lot. We have been intimate. But when we have, right after he ghosts for long periods of time. He will text 'hey what's up' or even good morning texts. Spending time with me is like pulling teeth. I told him I was going through some things and could use some face time. He doesn't step up. So where's that compassion that Christ talked about? Or I don't deserve it because we had sex? I feel like choking this guy. 

I am tired.

Duck n dodge

Monday came and of course I was going to get on the phone and try and get my housing. It was as if both people came in and told the receptionist if I called tell her I am unavailable or in a meeting. If you put her through, you are fired. I called each person multiple times and every time there was an excuse and I was offered voice mail. I was careful, not to sound annoyed or angry. I was getting crazy frustrated because I really am tired of roughing it. I left one voice mail each. But I kept calling. All day there was nothing. I really want to know what is going on that no one can speak with me. I feel like they want to see if I will leave angry, desperate or crying messages. I won't. I'm really tired of begging them for a place to stay. There is a chunk of me that feels like the principal of it makes me not want to stay there. The fact that I applied a year ago, and for the past 5 months have been going around in circles with them about moving in. The past month they have asked me for every document imaginable, and asked me to get a TB test. Which usually means they have accepted you and you are ready to move in. Yet, I am not there. Come 8am we start the process over again.

Staying at the shop isn't terrible, but it's just highlighting the fact that I don't have a place to live. I imagine this place as an apartment. Laid out like an apartment. With a shower and bathroom, regular sized fridge, stove and microwave with kitchen cabinets. It then seems lots smaller. I'm obsessed with empty warehouses and apartments that are above stores. I'll be driving around and see a warehouse all boarded up and wonder who owns it, and if they would rent it for next to nothing.  I have wanted to live in a warehouse since I was 12. I don't know if I would be up to renovating one and building a bathroom and kitchen. I might if I had the cash to do it. I was reading about $1 homes on line. But it seems that they aren't available in California. Only places like Florida and Detroit. Plus you can't be an individual buying them. It's pretty complicated. But I keep thinking, I have do do something next to impossible to get myself out of this position. Like buy a no money down home or something and move into it. Because this doesn't seem like it's going to subside any time soon, and I feel like I am slowing dying. My health needs an overhaul, but without access to certain things; a kitchen and bathroom- I can't do that. It's becoming more and more intense the longer it's taking to get a stable place to live. I want to change, but I need help. There is nothing worse than being an independent person who does things for themselves, and getting to a place where you can't figure things out so you ask for help; and people just kind of shrug their shoulders at you. Or say they can help you, but they don't know how long it will take.  I love this city but I don't want to live on the edges of it anymore.

I was going to try and see my friend E and his new baby and wife. I haven't seen them in two years since their wedding. I haven't seen the baby yet. It's hard finding the time to hang out. I asked if I could come over and visit. He was saying how they house wasn't clean. I was like...what the hell? That was one of my concerns when they said they were going to have a kid. The total filth they lived in. It's not healthy for kids to live that way. It was grossed out by it completely. When I lived there many times I would go to get a fork or spoon and they had all of them stuck in dishes they had eaten days before. Ew. He then suggested we go have tacos. I said cool. But something told me he would cancel. Sure enough the next day he was sick from some food he ate. I have watched him eat cold ravioli out of a can before. So him being sick off something isn't a stretch. 

Then there was M, whom has been vague about hanging out. That would normally be obvious. But I think I am just entertaining myself with wether or not he will keep plans. I always say he won't. We talked about getting ice cream on Sunday evening. At 6 he asked what part of town I was in. I told him. 9:55 he tells me he just got home, and he's no where near me. Then he tries to say he  didn't think we were going to hang out. It's just sad. He makes me sad. Not because he won't spend time with me; but because he's so lame. He's a church going mama's boy, and that's all he is. Anything outside of that, he's not interested in. He makes it pretty clear he won't put any effort into anything that isn't his family. I'm over it. I want more. I need help getting stable so I can work on myself and get the results I want so I can attract better people.

shop talk

Today was the normal day. I got up super early and started put putting around the shop. Cutting transfers and organizing them into tupperware, and pulling out the ruined ones and putting them in a cast off bin. The thing with them is they come on big sheets, which happen to be about a half inch too short for the drawer they are stored in. When people are in a hurry they pull the sheets out and can end up wrecking them making them potentially useless. A sheet can have 5 big logos on them. I sat and cut all the logos down so they easily fit in the drawer and don't get wrecked when pulled out of the drawer. Small corner logos go in tupperware and stacked on the side of the press. No one has ever done this. It will definately make production faster when pressing, not having to dig around looking for things. 

The thing is the weekend is here, and I am at the shop. During the day people might show up, so it's not like I can lounge like I would at home. Of course I'm looking for ways to stay gone most of the day and into the night if I can. I just don't want to spend every dime doing it. I have cravings to buy myself fabric, and knick nacks. But that adds up. I have to be creative. My favorite activity on the weekend is thrift shopping. But here in LA it's like one big yard sale. Some areas it's like wallpaper. Clothes hung as far as the eye can see. That adds up too. 

I do have a free movie ticket from when I was banned from the theater because my purse was too big. I didn't have a car then, so I couldn't just put it in the car. So the manager gave me a free ticket so I could see a movie anytime I wanted. Maybe I will do that. But is there anything I even want to see?

Next weekend is my meet up group. So this week I have to get T shirts for the event to pass out. I want to make cute stuff each time. Not the same thing every time. Or anything super boring. It's fun trying to find fabrics for sleeves, and trying to predict what will be a hit and what won't. 

I hope I can stay busy

Being alone means...

I grew up an only child for the most part. I had a mom who worked, so I spent a lot of time home alone. Certain things would make me feel safe and comfortable. Window coverings for one. I watch TV and can't understand why a person would live in a million dollar home with NO CURTAINS! It was important I was undetectable when I was there. I tip toed when I had to move around, and the TV was always on very low. I watched a lot of TV to keep my brain occupied till mom got home.

I have a similar feeling now that I am squatting at the shop. I want to be undetectable. There is a line of light that comes under the door, and I look over at it and think, 'I better not see any feets standing there, or I will effing lose my isht.' Last night it was raining, and I woke up in the middle of the night again. I got on my computer and sure enough, I saw feets. My heart started racing out of control. Then I heard the screen door jangle, then open. I was jumping out of my skin. I kept saying 'it's just the boss, it's okay it's just the boss.' The door opened, it wasn't the boss. It was this friend of the boss who used to crash here too. He said he saw my car downstairs and was confused. He asked if I was okay. I said yes. Just waiting some stuff out. He said he was returning the boss' keys to her. They had a falling out because he stole something of hers so he isn't welcome here anymore. Well for the time being. He still has a bunch of clothes and shoes here. 

It's been a long time since I could sit up in the middle of the night because I wanna. I think about a lot of stuff then. I went to my bffs for a nice hot shower tonight. Your girl was SPICY! WHOO. Just in time! LOL. I drove back here, and got in my jammies and pulled out the hide a bed. Set up the laptop for some TV till I got sleepy. I should be freaked out, distraught or something because I am squatting. It's not forever. I guess I am lucky not to be in my car. I can lay in a bed, I can lock doors. It's not terrible. I drive around and all I can think is how much I love this city. I have struggled my brains out, but I still love it here. I belong here. I can't wait till I get settled in and find my place here. I'm still excited and hopeful. I'm relived not to be in a mental ward anymore. It wasn't literally. It was a shelter that took in a lot of mentally ill people. The majority of the people staying there had mental issues. That was making me unhappy, and changing my demeanor. I don't like being affected emotionally in negative ways. I am sensitive psychically anyway to many things. Some would say empathic. So when people are mentally ill, it's like living with a scrambler on. When you are around a group of mentally ill people it's like breathing in dirt. I feel clean now that I don't have to be around that. Like the sun is coming back on. I'm still holding on for my housing, and I have had much anger about the wait. But I think I have let go of that too. It's going to happen, any day now. I don't want to go back into a 'program' setting. Curfew has killed much opportunity for me to hang out and network. I have had one for like 4 years except for now. I find myself wanting to hang out with friends and go dancing tomorrow because I don't have to worry about a fucking curfew. I'll go back into a program for a time, then work with this rapid rehousing program to get an apartment that is income based. So I don't have to worry about paying the rent for now. Then I will have the freedom I have craved for years. I keep thinking about what comforter am I going to have first. Where can I get a big mirror. What dishes am I getting first. I need a cutting table for my fabric. I haven't had my sewing machine since December, and I can't wait to have it again. Making new clothes always makes me feel better. $5 downtown can make me into a whole new woman. I discovered this new store down in the fabric district too near the leather shop I go to. They sell bulk jewelry. I love going in there and getting a tiny thing. I have been into bracelets lately. They have gorgeous earrings and beads to make necklaces with. I thought I would like to make some cute pieces for myself. I have been copping little things for months that can elevate my look. I am a t shirt skirt girl. But I don't really have any 'I'm out on a hot date' clothes. I don't have jewelry to wear on a date. I don't have cute date heels. I did buy a pair though. I haven't worn them yet. I like ankle straps, but since I cracked my ankle a few months back, my right one has a weird lump on the side. Which will make it a challenge to wear ankle straps. I feel like I'm in kankle territory anyway. Like I have gained that amount of weight that my ankles are now a little fatter than they should be. All that will be dealt with once I get my housing. So I can cook/ assemble the meals I need to eat so I can go into ketosis and lose all the weight. Have the room to work out each day, and I will have to save $24 a week for dance classes too. All these things have been on hold because since I left the shelter I haven't had access to a kitchen, or any privacy. Not to mention at the asylum you had to wait to use the bathroom a lot, which if I was cleansing; could have been a disaster. When I get to my new program, I will have my own bathroom. It's strange to think I have 125 extra pounds to lose. People might want you to feel good wherever you are. I know I am awesome. Period. But I want to look that way on the outside. You can't say 125 extra pounds isn't affecting the quality of the dating life. It absolutely is in the way. The way I am treated, dismissively must end. I am tired of it. I am tired of not being a candidate for men that I have tons in common with only because of my weight. People can at least get together then realize the person wasn't quite right for them. I don't get that chance. I'm not an option. When I see pictures of myself that get taken when I am out with friends and whatnot I see why. I don't like what I see. How would anyone else like what they see? 

I have been on a long journey. I am ready to realize things, and live things. 

The time is now.

Not a bit of difference do 8 months make

It's been 8 months since my last entry.

I have since left that place. I filled out an application for another place in a different neighborhood, which serves the same purpose but helps you save money for a real place. I filled out the application in May of 2015. The months ticked by and nothing. I was advised to go into their emergency shelter to increase my chances of getting into the program. So right before Christmas that's what I did.

I had to share a room with one lady. She was the coolest lady ever. She was an ex crackhead who got clean on her own. She had been on the streets, but wanted to change everything and reconnect with her 10 children. She was the coolest person, I really mean it. The emergency shelter was only 90 days; which I was sure I would get into the other transitional program. Other ladies were packing up to go over there, so I thought I would be next.

Needless to say....

I wasn't.

Suddenly there was a change of director over the program and a restructuring of the program too. For instance a lady could stay there for a year, not save a dime and then just go back out on the streets. Now they have 3 month reviews. If you aren't where you should be financially in that time either saving or getting a job or whatever; then they will kick you out before your year is up.

I'm okay with this, because I am working my fucking ass off at my job. I like it but I don't because I don't have anyone to help me. I have tons more responsibilities and no backup. I feel intense resentment sometimes. Then I blame myself for signing on here in the first place. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't find ANY decent job in 3 years! I wanted to not be homeless anymore so I had to go for it. I am going on 10 months at my job, and still not making minimum wage. I am the one trying to secure funding for the company to grow as well. I tell you I do everything. I worked out how much I am owed if I were working for $10 an hour this whole time. $11,780. That would be enough to get a decent place in a decent neighborhood with a parking space and pay 6 or 7 months ahead. So then I could actually save money. But that money is still several weeks away.

Back to the program. So my 90 days were up at the emergency shelter, so I had to find someplace else to stay. My case manager at the shelter of course waited till the final two weeks to mention finding other shelters. You should have been talking about that on the first day. So I found this other place a few blocks away, but little did I know they housed many mentally ill patients. Also had to stay 4 in a room. The woman that was in the room when I got there was SEVERELY skitzophrenic and paranoid. She heard voices who taunted her and she would get into yelling matches with them at night when you were trying to sleep. She would run in and out the room all night talking loudly to her voices. It was hard to sleep. 

Then there was this woman who stalked me from the first house, to the emergency shelter and then to this place too. She ended up in the same bunk with me. She is the antithesis of the kind of woman I don't want to waste my time on. At the first house I would notice that she would say really dizzy shit. It was clear she wasn't very bright and I didn't want to hang out with her. She then took to accusing all of the people in her room of stealing from her, and each day would be in the office tattling on imaginary thieves. At the emergency shelter I didn't have to room with her, but she would make it a point to sit at my table for meals and try and strike up conversations. She would ask a million questions about your life and background and act super interested in you. I don't like strangers asking a bunch of personal questions, so I shut her down. At the first house she suggested we be roommates. I told her no. At the emergency shelter same thing, I said no again. Now here she is in my face. She immediately starts to accuse me of stealing from her. First I used her razor and put it back.  Then I took her comb. She had a bag full of combs, but this ONE comb was so important to her. She went on for an hour about this comb and how she 'hates people who steal.' I have plenty of what I need, I don't need to steal. Then it was a hanger in the closet was missing. Then I was using her shampoo. ENOUGH! Every day it was something else. We had to have a mediation before I put my hands on her. The director told her if she continued to accuse me without proof then it would be considered harassment and she'd be asked to leave. The skitzophrenic woman freaked out one night and the cops were called and they took her on a 5150. But then another woman came to sleep in her place. Also with emotional problems. A week later a younger African girl came to stay on the other side of the room. Then my bunkmate switched the focus onto her and started accusing her of stealing and breaking into her locker. Every day was petty drama, like being in grade school. I'd come home dog tired and they would be bickering about some tiny thing. Then it was her coach bag was missing, then her nail kit, then her laptop. It was out of hand. But of course the twist was SHE WAS THE ONE STEALING! I had a tiny bottle of flower bomb perfume, she took it. I had bought an eyebrow shaper tool. She took it. I bought some nice bras for myself, I was wearing one she took the remaining two--by staging a robbery in our room. She was totally psychotic, and never have I completely hated anyone they way I hated her. 

One day I would come back from work the first week of May and was told the shelter was shutting down at the end of the month. I'd been calling the original program the whole time and couldn't get any answers. They would ask for more paperwork, but would never tell me when I could move in. They were having issues with how I am paid. Through pay pal. It's out of the ordinary so they had to check with the higher ups if it would be okay and stay within the paramaters of the funding guidelines. The end of May turned into the 15th of May, and then that turned into Friday morning telling us we had to be out by the following day.  I was waiting on TB results from the hospital on Monday, so I could stay till then. You usually need TB results to move into a group living facility. I turned them in, thinking that was the last piece of the puzzle and I could move in. NOPE! Nothing. I had no place to go. 

Luckily I have the company SUV, and could pack my stuff in it and drive away. My boss let me crash at the warehouse. Then she went out of town so then I was able to crash at her place with her bro and friend Dave, and her girlfriend. That was cool. But now they have house guests staying for a week. I'm back at the shop. There is an inflatable bed here so it's not that bad. Just peeing in the middle of the night is spooky as shit. We're deep in south central and off a major road, so if I am walking out on the balcony to go to the bathroom anyone driving by can see me.  I don't like that one bit. I hate it actually. If I hear a noise I am freaking out. It's just really spooky. 

The director of the program I am trying to get into is gone for a week. So this week I am on my own. I've been homeless since 2011 and I am so tired of not having a place of my own, that's not a program that doesn't recognize you as an adult. I cry sometimes from anger and frustration. I wish I had someone to lean on, like a partner; but I don't. I get creative about my situation when I meet new people. Cause I could say 'I share a place' . Which was pretty accurate. Until now. 

Trying to stay alive in this situation takes a lot of energy. Not having a place to store or prepare food for the past 5 months has been challenging. Being in the new program gives me a private room with my own bathroom, and kitchen access. So I can cook my own food. Raw veggies, and making salad at night! Buying them chopped at the grocery costs so much more than doing it yourself. I want to start my weight loss program, without access to a bathroom when I need it, or the proper foods I wouldn't be successful. I didn't want to waste it. But I am getting anxious for the change. To feel healthy again. My skin is peeling and breaking out. My sinuses act up at night, and my weight is ballooning out of control because I am always craving junk food. It's like I am purposely trying to get diabetes. Being in the new place will mark a new chapter of my world. If I can't get in there, I don't know what I am going to do next.

I have called every program in town. Do you know some want to charge you $550 to share a room with a complete stranger? $800 to have a room of your own? My last one bedroom apartment in Florida was $550. 

There are so many empty houses and buildings all over LA. I wish I knew a guy who knew a guy....

I need help.

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