A Different Approach

I am thinking of different topics to address, as opposed to poor, pitiful me, and since this is a topic I am currently a statistic of, why not?

Homelessness nationwide is an issue, but the West Coast has been particularly hard hit. An estimated 500,000, or 1/2 Million, individuals nationwide are in uninhabitable housing, the pleasantly cleansed word for delicate souls. Or is it non-racist? Politically correct? Respectful? Fuck No! I am in uninhabitable housing!  I am homeless. And whatever non-offensive phrasing you, Mr. Government Amoeba Paperpusher/Dr. Sleepy Pants HUD Secretary, use it will be no different. Unless I am like too many, sleeping in a tent in a creek bed, wrapped up in a sleeping bag under a tree or wrapped in a cardboard box, or in a dumpster, I am still homeless in my car. A car is uninhabitable housing!

Your survey is wasted tax dollars as it is highly inaccurate, as usual. How do I know? I was asked to be involved in the Homeless Count this year and the parameters are a joke.

A few weeks before the “Night” they decide to do the count (a night? Really!?), a group of volunteers per a district get together to discuss “What to look for”. It was laughable, insulting and disgraceful. I will give you an idea what was suggested to look for:

  • People with shopping carts and too many shopping bags
  • Disheveled people, visibly unbathed, carrying odd things
  • Mismatched or ill-fitting clothing
  • Puddles next to parked cars, i.e. human waste (Loved that one. NOT!)
  • Large amount of personal litter, next to a car

Let me say, the majority of the questions were answered by homeowners that fall into the category of “Not-in-My-Backyard”. Nimby’s. The Homeless know them too well. Sadly, many Homeless are also drug addicts, alcoholics, mentally ill, off-their-meds, DGAF, etc. Thieves have a home, or a hole, or a safe place to hide. Homeless don’t. Do some break into homes? Yes. But, the chronically homeless still have enough self respect to respect other people’s property, unless they are family. That’s a completely different dynamic that I won’t address, because I have no personal knowledge with a normal family. Dysfunctional, you betcha!

The majority of homeless people are very self-conscious about their appearance. Bathing regularly is a must. Keeping properly groomed is a must, especially men! There are those who are so physiologically gone, that grooming isn’t something they are aware of. And there are those that are so far gone in their addiction, or allusion, that it doesn’t matter. They are the ones that in the “community”  *we* stay away from.

I will give you an example. I’ll call him Ned. I have no  personal association with a Ned, other than Ned Flanders, so I can’t offend anyone.

Ned is a couple of years younger than me. Ned is homeless, has a grown daughter and living parents. Ned smokes pot and does meth and God knows what all. He is also a part-time hoarder. He hoards stuff until it disappears, or is stolen, or he believes it is stolen, or he gives it away. He desperately wants a woman in his life. I know this first hand, and had to deal with some shit he said about Will. Will has known him longer, better than 2 years? I think. Ned has had medical issues, had a heart attack, severe water retention issues, edema. He’s kinda fucked up y’all. Now, he had built a fire at his campsite with treated pallet boards and it impacted his eyes. He told me yesterday that he needs an optical surgery and they may have to take his eyes. He could see me, and this has been an issue for a couple of months. I don’t doubt Ned has a severe issue, but being homeless and needing medical care is a huge one! And he will routinely make a mountain out of molehill. Many know his parents and have met them or his sister, so the homeless grapevine is healthy and thriving and keep the fables at bay. I do care for Ned, but my partial brain can’t handle his little boy crying wolf routine. Others, including Will and I, have real health issues that will eventually kill us, not self-inflicted bull-pucky exaggerations. Being Stoned or High is self-inflicted and I just don’t care. Haven’t since I was 17 and some things just don’t change.  You’re an addict and want to live that life? Have at! Just don’t think I want a special invitation to join you.

Just so you are aware, most homeless don’t defecate next to their vehicle.  Some might, if they can’t find a bush and I know a few whacks that defecate in the public square intentionally, but they have problems that were dealt with at those “Hospitals” back in the day. The practice of dogs not shitting where they sleep is also  human trait. We use public restrooms at Safeway, Starbucks, Panama Bay, Ross, TJ Maxx, Carl’s Jr., McDonald’s. We like to wipe our bottoms and wash our hands, thank you! And we do not leave it a mess. If you think we loose all sense of human decency, you are wrong. My God, Will is so fastidious he drives me nuts! He has to shave regularly and complains when he sees himself as unkempt! Clean clothes without stains are a big deal. And a pleasant color palette.   He is Gay after all. Some behaviors will not change. That’s why he makes me chuckle. I love him to death, even when he is Gayer than Christmas Bloomies.

I guess, I could say it simply, perception and reality don’t talk, meet, or have anything to do with each other. And a few small-minded people can dream up whatever they wish, but it won’t make it so.

 

 

https://www.insider.com/map-how-many-homeless-americans-there-are-in-each-state-2019-11

Good News – We’re Still Alive

I know….I haven’t published an update in months. I can explain.

My award from Social Security came through. There was a snoopy dance and rib eye fir dinner and I took care of:

1. My car registration

2. The overdue rental fees on my storage units

3. Cutty (Dad’s Cutlass) finally got fixed

4. I bought camping gear

5. I learned how to camp

6. I discovered that having Social Security doesn’t change a damn thing

I have an income. I no longer qualify for food stamps because I’m not poor anymore. Well, I qualified for $15 a month. A steady diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches is in my future!

I’m a homeless diabetic. Today, the Church that provides meals to the homeless served lasagna and tasteless vegetables. They had some yogurt and mixed fruit. I ate that. And half a Turkey sandwich from 7 Eleven that was on special. $2 Wednesday!

If I had a home, I could cook. Make meals. Plan meals and freeze. Buy cheap frozen dinners when they’re on sale and never have to worry about my “numbers” again (blood glucose/A1C). I’d never have to worry about needing a bathroom or where my bed would be tonight. I wouldn’t have to worry about being seen when I am incontinent and lean up against the car or sit on a picnic bench to pee for 10 minutes. There is no communication between the down below and central command. The stroke severed most communication and I don’t see a doctor until December. I’m still trying to get a portable commode and Depends since my insurance will cover it, but the Company doesn’t have a street address to send it too. I don’t have a street address? I’m homeless? Well, the doctor needs to tell them for it to be approved. Medicare doesn’t know that I don’t live in an approved domicile. And I can’t specify that, only a doctor.

?????WTAF??????

And I’m “car camping” in Fremont tonight so I can see my endocrinologist tomorrow so I can get my diabetic medication refilled SINCE SHE HASN’T ANSWERED ANY CVS PHARMACY REQUEST FOR 3 MONTHS!!! And she’s leaving the practice next week, and yesterday they were going to schedule an appointment with another endocrinologist in that group in a month, but since I wanted to file a complaint with her supervisor, I can see her at 10 this morning.

How convenient. I’m still bitching to my medical provider. This is utter bullshit.

There’s no emergency housing in Alameda County, just shelter beds with rules and regs and “treatment” for any of my addictions. I’m vaping not smoking anymore. I don’t do drugs, unless they are prescribed to keep me alive. I’m not an alchie.

There are days I sleep 20 hours. There are spans up to 74 hours that I can’t sleep a wink. And a shelter won’t care, other than see a doctor. I have! I had a stroke. I have a TBI. As the damage is quantified, strategies can be developed to deal with each issue. Except I have no one working with me.

And I’m homeless with my friend who is an alcoholic, desperately needs spinal surgery and is undergoing a biopsy to gauge the progress of his prostate cancer so he can have radiation, not radical surgery to make him impotent and incontinent (like me). He’s accepted his gayness since his Mom died. He hasn’t had the time/opportunity/freedom/courage to be “gay” as he wants to be yet. Neither of us has found the love we have always needed – our other half.

Will and I have a friendship that is almost that relationship, but we aren’t each other’s half. If you have it, then you know. I’ve come close a couple of times, I’ve been married twice, I’ve had boyfriends. Ans.my heart has been broken more than once. I’m a great hag, but fail to be a good wife or even just a girlfriend. Breasts too small, butt too wide, not enough airhead or bubbly dunce that let’s a man feel manly.

Now, being homeless, and failure at adulting to the list of faults.

I bought a new laptop with my Award money. It’s with the Geek Squad at Best Buy since in the 5th occasion of use, the screen was cracked. Having never “cracked” a screen on any piece of electronics before – laptops, cell phones, PDAs, all the way back to the first handheld games in the 70’s – I took it back to Best Buy, showed them no damage to the Laptop, but the cracked screen has gotten worse. It was the left 1″ section, now it’s 3″. They have sent it to their lab in Kentucky and I am waiting on their determination and what they will charge me for my “oopsie”. And it better be “it’s Dell’s issue, their was a flaw”.

My Sony laptop has lasted 10 years. A Dell can’t “last” 6 weeks? With it’s own heavyduty dedicated backpack it shares with nothing but it’s own power cord and mouse? The Sony had to share a bag with my Franklin and finance files. Still waiting. It’s been 2 weeks.

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A Fresh New Start

I had a blog for a few years. That was with Blogger, and kinda died. I’ve got Facebook, but it’s become a label factory. It’s not a license to be a douche, people. So, I’ve taken my tiny soapbox to the Internets to put my opinion to a broader audience. What will I write about? Whatever comes to mind. There will be sharing of what I’m doing in a post-stroke new life. There will be posts on knitting. It’s been too much a part of my life. Stuff on siblings that I didn’t know I had. Photography stuff. Beer experiences. Books. And the occasional rant over something. Probably political.

Join me on this new venture. And wish me luck!