I'm at a crossroads with school:

Do I proceed as planned and get the AA at the community college and transfer to get my BA in Human Services...

Or

Do I not get the AA and transfer to the University of Minnesota (if I get accepted) and use the 2 free years of tuition made for transfer students without degrees and pursue a BA in Anthropology instead??

The University has a bigger name for my resume but I am in the agency I would like to remain at for years to come so does that matter? Don't know. One program is more pratical and one is more interesting.

I'm also seriously considering traveling to the Spanish Immersion school in a few years as a few of my comrades have done. If not that, a summer doing the WOOFF program. I need some travel soon, and I'd like to make it international this time...

I don't want life and opportunities to pass me by.

As I am getting closer to closing on this house, I am having a familiar flight feeling. A panic that makes me second guess the whole thing. I mean, what if I want to spend a few months traveling next year (unlikely!) or what if I save up and quit everything and move to Los Angeles once our friends are settled back in...But then I remind myself that once the market improves and I have some years under my belt with the house, I can always sell and will most likely leave with a profit.

It's just the thought of being tied down that makes me uneasy - I mean, 30 year mortgage??!!? GAH! In the past, I've been a up and travel in the spur of the moment type of person. Obviously becoming a parent and being broke for years curbed that lifestyle but I haven't lost the dream, that's for sure. I suppose that I could rent out the house for a summer to some college if the urge ever overtakes me and we need to hit the road.

In some ways, it feels like I am expecting a new baby. I'm getting prepared - ready to nest, have been window shopping accesories and necessary items and preparing for the future. It's fun to plan out how MY house is going to improve over the years as I update areas and add paint and fix up the yard, etc., etc. It's something that I have wanted for so long, and nearly had in my early 20's, but just haven't been able to realize since moving to Minnesota. The time is nigh.

While housing hunting last week, we toured 2 houses that were kind of sobering. Each seemed normal from the outside but when we came in - it became apparent that they were single family homes turned into boarding houses for people making very little income. The basements were a death trap with multiple rooms in each that had been cobbled together with no escape route if there were a fire. These are the types of living arrangements that the undocumented guys end up getting if they get out of the shelter and into "housing". I'm not sure why but I had envisioned that they were renting a room in a place with other men but not this. Moldy basements. Tiny rooms. No way out.

I've been kind of depressed since seeing those if only for fear of what could happen in a fire. And the thought that all of those people will soon be displaced as well - I'm assuming they were each foreclosures or a landlord selling despite the fact that there are renters living in their homes.

Everytime my boss says "Wowie Zowie!" I think of someone smoking a big joint ala "Up in Smoke" and laugh. She's dropped it twice already today.

Another silly statement a client has been using is "You told a Whopper Jr.!". He uses it if he thinks I ok'ed something (when I didn't) and I remind him that it's not going to happen (whatever "it" might be).

I learned in the past few weeks that the preferred method of catcalling is by hollering "Hey Momma!" out yer window. Followed up by the loud smooch emitted out the window, which, by the way, I find pretty impressive. I can barely get my voice to carry across a lane of traffic to the sidewalk much less get my lips to emit a noise loud enough to travel to a target of superficial affection.

Luckily, I'm not the type to be offended by this type of thing. It makes me laugh more than anything - anyone remember the "Hey! Can I smell your seat?!" catcaller??? Jeesh! For those who know me well enough, know that I do not think of myself as womenly, as a sexual being and generally feel like I look dumpy and plain if not invisible in that way. Just recently have I taken to try to up my style again. Years ago, I used to always do my own hair, wear some bright red lipstick, dress cute and feel pretty confident. But then things happened and my self-esteem took a shit and I stopped giving a damn. Then I became a single mom for years and money was stretched beyond what I could handle and I cared even less. Currently, I still don't give much of a damn but I've been dressing up for myself.

I recognize that most catcallers most likely hoot at anyone with T&A so I don't take it personally, for sure. Which is why I find it funny when it happens, if not a bit annoying as well. Same with those types that hit on people in the same fashion - like they've tried everyone else and move on to the next person or the most vulnerable looking person and try again. Stoopid.

I've been drawn to color and the thought of surrounding myself in it.

Case in point, the Gurglepot. Don't really need one but I love the vibrant colors and the design of them. They remind me of Fiesta Ware.

Greta McClain's beautiful paintings of migrant farmworkers, currently being displayed at the May Day Cafe.

The letterpress prints at Yee Haw make my day.

My newest tattoo already holds so much color and it's not even finished yet. By the time it's done it will have reds, oranges, black, greens, blues, yellows and possibly pink!

Ariana and I found two gems recently: A purple sparkly glitter Selle Italia saddle for $2.99 at "the army" and a clearance belt with a buckle that has a photo of a Lucha Libre wrestler in blue surrounded by glitter and flowers and cased in clear plastic material. I wasn't going to get it cuz belts with buckles make me feel like a Buckle Bunny (even though they don't wear them, I still feel weird!) but Ariana insisted!

Doing the front desk at the women's organization I work for today, been getting some weird calls:

- A guy referred to us because he wanted to recycle a tv.

- An elderly woman who wanted to donate tons of incontinance pads, the ones that she doesn't like. Unused, of course.

- A woman who wanted financial assistance with her car insurance.

- A woman who wanted to donate professional clothes but inquired about a pair of pants without the hem. She kept wanting to discuss said hem and pants but I told her to go ahead and bring them although I told her (in a nice way) that I wasn't sure that the women in shelter or trans would want to deal with sewing them. She stated that she does it...but still, these ladies are stressed out, chasing young'ens around and probably don't even HAVE a sewing kit. I'm not sure why she thought that the hemless pants were so important. Just bring them, or don't. Simple.

- A woman who was updating information about our agency and asked me questions whose answers were all almost on our website. I had to keep putting other lines on hold to answer her silly questions. GAH!

I've taken the first steps to possibly buying a house - I'm in the process of being reviewed for a pre-approval for a loan. Once this is done, I can begin setting up appointments to view places. I have a few in mind already but am holding off getting too anxious.

If my credit is still too shakey and I can't be pre-approved, I will find out what the heck I need to do to improve my standing and focus on that for the upcoming year.

It's all kind of scary but hopefully better for us in the long run.

Last night, I worked my shift then stayed for the overnight. Saturday nights mean that we go to bed at Midnight. Once the guys were tucked in, I finally dozed off when the doorbell begin persistantly blaring at 1am. I ignored it for a moment hoping that the person would realize that we were "closed" for lack of a better word but no luck. So I answer, "hello?" The person, a woman, is asking for a guest to come up. I explain that we can't confirm if someone is here or not begin to explain that doors are shut for the evening and no one is to come or go, she cut me off telling me his support staff position, which I know. Once she heard that I would not be getting him nor sending him up she barraged me with a few "Fuck yous". How sweet.

Got called a bitch this morning, oh, that's a "FUCKING Bitch" which actually I missed when it happened, thankfully. I was called this because I went to ask 2 men who were arguing over a soda that may or may not have been stolen from one man by the other, who happen to normally be friends. I first asked them to lower their voices because the rest of the room of 30 some people still had at least a half an hour to sleep. They continued. Then I made the statement that I had 2 sodas stolen in the past month and wasn't arguing with any of them, to make the point that it wasn't worth it, arguing that is. Apparently this annoyed one of them. Maybe it *was* a dumb statement, spurred by inpatience at their lack of regard for the other guests and carrying on the silly arguement for nearly a half an hour but not worth being called a fucking bitch over, that's for sure. I should have just asked what would make this person feel redeemed, a replacement for the lost soda, etc...
I was informed of my new title by 2 other guys who overheard it. This is the type of thing that we know not to take personally but sometimes it's a challenge in the moments following it - especially when you've been nothing but kind and accomadating to the person who says things like that.

One thing that helps deflect the shitty feeling after things like this happen, is the security in knowing that we all (social service providers) have dealt with it and I'm not alone.

Which brings me to something that I've thought a lot about since I started working in the field (back at SIREN in 2006). The psychology of poverty and homelessness and how it affects persons living in it and how they interact with those around them, dynamics of street relationships and how their persona changes depending on where they are (various shelters, drop-in centers, hanging with street friends vs. talking with shelter staff). I'm trying as hard as possible to gain understanding of all of this as to better equip me to deal with things such as the above arguement - it might very well be that the person that called me a fucking bitch is also on edge because his bed ends tonight and he is stressed out and that pushed him over. Or maybe he called me that because his bed is up tonight and he no longer has to front to staff and his true personality is out right now.

Of course, as usual, there could be a dozen answers.

When I last wrote, I was leading into a scary cab ride to the hostel near the Marina District of SF. Now I'm lacking steam to type it all out. So there.

Whilst out in the Bay Area, I read an editorial written by a youth worker for at-risk population in Oakland. He was talking about how a group was planning to come from Oregon to protest at the hearing of the cop who shot an unarmed man, Oscar Grant, in a BART subway station.

This writer spoke out about these activists coming in and riling up the people who actually live in the neighborhoods, in turn opening up the potential for youth, in particular, to get caught up in trouble that they would ultimately pay for and in which they may have never done in the first place without the antagonization. At first, I was a little puzzled. Then I paused and tried to imagine his side and it started to make more sense.

I don't 100% agree with his anger regarding a group that was trying to ultimately show support for Oscar and his family I can see how it could impact the community if things get out of hand.

Just a point of view that I hadn't considered in a while.

It was nearing 11:30 at night when we stumbled out of the San Francisco airport on Sunday evening, the rest of the US was passed out from their 4th of July activities earlier that day. It was cold and windy, 57 degrees to be exact.

I debated our options - the BART would take us as far as downtown but then we would have to hoof it for a few miles carrying bags and basically looking like sitting ducks...in a city I've only been to one other time. We could try to find a shared shuttle bus to the Wharf that may be bringing other travellers to that district. Or we could catch a cab and pay a large fare.

We crossed the drop off/pick-up zone and continued towards the cabs. Fuck it. I just want to get to the hostel, I thought to myself. A man spoke to me in a russian/eastern european accent - $45 to San Francisco.... We accepted. He loaded our bags into the trunk. I took note of his license plate that indicated that he was a "livery taxi". Once inside the car, it was dark and silent. My mind started to wander and thoughts of the movie Taken began flashing through my mind. It was just me and my 7 year old daughter, virtually helpless in a large urban area where I only knew 2 people, both via the internet. I gave the driver the address and he punched it into his GPS and immediately got onto his cell phone and began speaking to someone in Russian as he sped through the streets and highway. I handed myc cellphone to Ana and told her to keep ahold of it just in case something happened. Shortly after, my phone spontaneously went dead. I did start to panic at this point - rational or irrational, I couldn't tell. My mind was racing and I was thinking of different scenarios or escape routes/ideas, THEN, he whips into the long driveway to the hostel near Fisherman's Wharf and deposits us at the steps. I handed him $80 bucks and booked it. He seemed pretty happy at this tip. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there and into a bed at that point. Whew. Fucking movies!

This week I interviewed for a PT job at a sister shelter, 1 question asked "what do you like most about working at SS?" I answered truthfully but later realized a better answer: it is one of very few jobs that I've had where I don't ever dread coming in (the exception being the few weeks while a sticky situation with a client was happening).

I stopped by this morning to water some newly planted flowers and Ariana commented about how much she likes it there too. A client helped me stretch the hose so the flowers didn't get crushed and we chatted. I'm a lucky gal.

Back trip planning, flight is in 3 hours...

I found this great resource today about maintaining health while living on the streets, info that is around, but I like the way these are put together...

Booklets and leaflets.

As I sat out the light at Franklin and Chicago yesterday a young'en to my right starts talking in some kinda smooth talk and says "Ooo, pretty lady, you could make sooommmeee monnney.." or something equally gross and to that effect.
What's worse, I think I recognize that player - his cuz brought him to town from Chicago and we crossed paths at work once. I know that street life ain't pretty but I suppose it always holds a story. And hell if there aren't dozens of stories hanging around Frankin and Chicago!

Sometimes I wish I weren't a woman - partially because I know that most men ain't looking for someone or something special, they are just looking because someone is there and is a woman. And in this case, looking to capitalize off of a woman; even worse!

Sometimes I wish I were invisible (in general).

Factoid: I've now officially had at least 5 aquaintances or strangers tell me that I look like Catherine O'Hara. It's no longer an isolated incident. Mommy?

LOOK! It's a antique fansite built on Tripod!

Had a sad conversation tonight with the man we've been working with to get his immigration paperwork pushed through so he can work legit and provide for his wife who stays up north. It was denied again - he sat and cried as he talked to me about not getting it, he is scared to call and tell her. I started to tell him that it would be all right but would it? I don't know that. Why do they make it so hard and so expensive? (I have my theories but who am I?).

Racial tensions are rising at the shelter again, that's always frustrating. Every single one of these groups would be offended if the other called them names but turn around and do it to one another. Two wrongs don't make a right. No one group is better than the other, they are just all different in their own ways.

We barely stopped moving all night, I think it took my co-worker and I nearly an hour to gobble up 2 slices of pizza because there was non-stop action. Good weight loss plan, I suppose.

On the bright side, while there was rain, I didn't have to drive home in a flash flood like I did last night as I was leaving the bookstore in Highland Park. I came home to no power until the wee hours of the morning. My lackluster candles left me yearning for a old timey lantern of some sort. Finally, I laid in bed and read with a flashlight until I got sleepy and called it a day.

I've had a little more time to enjoy the mornings and afternoons this week.

Ariana has been attending Project Girl day camp at Intermedia Arts learning about positive body image, doing art, and girls that are in hip-hop and graffiti, etc.. This means that I am going back out to drop her off and picking her up just on the cusp of the afternoon turning into rush hour.

Yesterday we rode bikes in and enjoyed a calm, mild morning. On the way back, we rode in the rain, Ana riding through puddles trying to splash and spray me, laughing as she zoomed by. We took a break at Freewheel and the Midtown Global Exchange where we got veggies and snacks. Just like old times, before we started driving again. Our days were filled with bus stops and bike rides. We'd find fun stuff on the ground (even money!), played with stray cats and had time to bond each and every day. I keep telling myself that I need to stop using the van so much but all of the appointments and jobs I have cause me to have to be from one side of town to the next within a short amount of time and I hate being late! There is also the added point that Ana can't bike with me everywhere (especially if it's time senstive) - it's not like the old days when I could just hook her on the back of my bike in the trailer...

I suppose that soon enough, she will be a teenager and won't want to accompany me around anymore anyway...but maybe that's all the more reason to increase our time together now.

Things that make my life more enjoyable:

- Peanut Butter Twix
- Pineda Tacos - Carnitas with cilantro and onion to be specific
- $$$
- Good coffee
- Having a surplus of good books ready to be read
- Street fashion blog updates
- Playing in my garden, bring home greens which leads to that high pitched guinea pig squeal that makes me laugh
- A flexible work schedule
- Having something to look forward to (and the ability to do it) - i.e. Travel
- Funny podcasts - i.e. Savage Lovecast, my fav. Someday I'll add to that compilation of classic quotes...

As our trip to SF is rapidly approching, I found out yesterday that we'll need to postpone LA.

My friend's advisior died so he's been asked to stay and teach at the U longer than anticipated. Since they are LA natives and inherited a house in Hollywood, we are to stay with them. We had the option to go alone, probably including staying at their place, but I want to hang out with them as well as explore with just Ariana and I.

The plus side to this is that they are going back in the middle of winter so we are looking at Jan or Feb for our trip - it would be nice to get out of this place at that point in winter - a week or so would be perfect.

It's possible I'm a changed person when one of my first thoughts, along with noting to self not to wear my leaky tennis shoes, as I see the forecast or roll out of bed to rain is of the guys I know standing around the day labor line for a chance to work construction, the moving company or other similar jobs for a chance to make some money. When it rains, jobs are sparse.

And another of a man I know who is staying in a tent down by the river (he prefers it over the shelter and it's near the VA Hospital where he goes for appointments often) and hoping that he is warm and dry. He laughs when I worry at him about staying safe and dry but definately accepts socks and clothes as needed. And in the winter, he was around the shelters, so he has his safety and well being in mind.

And now we have the young man who is dealing with some sort of mental health issue(s) that we haven't identified yet - last week I stopped in and saw him standing in the rain with his fleece shirt pulled up over his head, rather than going to the drop-in center and staying dry or some other facility like the library, etc.. He's also been found sleeping outside the building next door at all hours. Last night he wandered in, we fit him in, expecting his behavior. After I showed him where his bed was for the night, I walked by to him trying to go to sleep with no linens whatsoever. I gathered up his sheets, a pillow and blanket and brought them to him but I'm not sure what's going on with him - he's stayed with us before, he knows how to find these things and what our protocol is for getting a bed but seems unable to go through with these tasks right now. ????