My daughter’s camp called on Friday, telling me that I needed to drop everything and go pick her up—she had lice! It was a stressful day: it hurt to loose half a day’s pay, plus my car was in the shop, so we had to take multiple busses home, all the while my daughter whined [...]
That Time I Got Violent…
I haven’t written about my early years on the streets for a while, but this story came up last night… Back in 1999 I was living in a trailer in a junk yard in Ballard/Seattle with a bunch of strippers, tweakers, and alcoholics. Now, I’ve never been a violent person, but one night as I [...]
Date-Er…
On Valentines Day Cami texted me and we set up a date for that Thursday. (Go back to Speed Dating for the back-story) Despite the fact that I gave her my number, Noma connected with me that evening on Facebook. (How did she find me anyways? She told me she had her ways.) We set [...]
Speed Dating & Dancing Part 1.5 Helping Hand
At around 11pm during my Valentines Day night out I decided to go smoke a joint. After failing to talk the tomboi into abandoning her pole-dancer watching spot to join me, I got into the incredibly long line for the coat room. Well, I almost made it to the line. I got sidetracked talking to [...]
Where You Shit
The right, or shall we say, privilege to go the bathroom is one of the biggest things you miss on the streets. I feel so strongly about this that ten years later I stormed out of a restaurant after ordering when they didn’t have a public restroom.
My Second Arrest
After I’ve been yelling for a while, a stocky Latina policewomen struts out and un-cuffs me, leading me to the nearby bathroom. Here’s where things start to go down-hill.
My First Arrest
“I would never do heroine.” I agreed. God, that looked awful. Coming down in jail had to be hell.”I only smoke pot” she paused as I nodded my agreement, “and crack.”
10 REAL Things You Need to Know to Live on the Streets
10. You are not homeless. Your home is in your heart. You are house-less.
What the hell is up with the name of this Blogg?
Inspired by the parting words of an Ex (OK, I’ve been called worse: “rich white bitch” comes to mind–but then, that boyfriend thought I lived in ivory tower because I went to Community College), the purpose of this blogg is to sort out my thoughts on: interracial relations and relationships, my experiences with homelessness and [...]
