Fezzik is boarded. It was difficult, not sure how big a fan of the boarding facility I am. I want to come and take him to the dog park on weekends (since they don’t allow their canine boarders to play together). They said that I can, but they “discourage” it because I’ll “depress” him… wtf?!?!?! So you’re telling me I should go without seeing my dog for a really long time?!?! That he shouldn’t be able to run and play at the park?! Screw that, he’s hanging out at the park with me on the weekends. Seriously, I’m not sure how much better this boarding thing can be for him, sounds like he’ll be getting less exercise and less interaction with other animals.  Plegh.

They slipped a flimsy little lead over his neck to take him back to the room. I offered her his Halti nose lead, since he’s used to it and it keeps him awesomely under control, just a little tug and he’s putty in your hands, since like all dogs, he follows the direction of his nose. She said no and took it off and took him back.

~I sit at Starbucks all morning waiting for someone to get my frantic e-mails.
~Dwight gets on gtalk around 1:00 p.m. and I fill him in.
~Dwight calls the gas station again for me to see if my phone has been turned in. No dice.
~Dwight comes to Starbucks to take me to Sprint to replace my phone.
~On a whim, we use his cell call my phone to see if the dirty bastard who stole it will answer.
~Aishwarya picks up on the other end of the line.
~General confusion ensues.

What happened was this: some nice guy (Richard) found my phone at the gas station restroom and was apparently answering all the incoming calls to see if I would call. Aishwarya didn’t hear from me in the morning like she was supposed to, started worrying, and called. Nice stranger Richard answered and explained what happened. He then proceeded to meet her at a local movie theatre and give her the phone.

Aishwarya still had no way to find me – she hadn’t checked her e-mail yet – so she went on to a barbeque with some friends, at which point Dwight and I called, and were very confused to hear her voice on the line.

So – yay!!! All worked out well.

Dwight took me to the Wal-Mart parking lot, at which point P. came out of his RV and mentioned that he had also called my cell, and the same Richard guy had picked up. He had left a note on my dashboard with the guy’s phone number.

I drove back to Starbucks, and Aishwarya met me there in a few hours after her barbeque was done, and gave me my phone and Richard’s phone number. So now I need to call and thank him so, so very much.

The other new development is that starting tomorrow I am going to board Fezzik. The Sam’s Club parking lot is not particularly safe at all (P. mentioned that he had sent another RV-er out there to drive by and see if I made it there OK, and they had seen the jillion random men hanging around my trailer, and were concerned). Wal-Mart is in a much safer neighborhood and the other members of my little RV community are around to watch out for me (I’m actually really touched that they cared enough to drive by Sam’s Club). Anyway, P. told me to come back to Wal-Mart after a day or so and just try to leave every couple of days for a few hours, and then come back and park elsewhere. However, now I’m paranoid about Fezzik attracting attention, so I am going to board him. Dwight has been super-kind enough to front me the money for one month of boarding, for which I am eternally grateful. This way, Fez doesn’t have to be confined all day while I’m at work, and he’ll get to play with other dogs and have people loving up on him, but he can still come home with me when this is all said and done.

Sigh. It will stretch things a bit, but Fezzik is worth it.

Also, I want to give a shoutout to Matt from Homeless Tales, who made the front page of Digg TWICE in two days!!!!! How awesome is that? I say, pretty awesome.

Also, thanks to Danny from Take Part – Jon (Beat on the Street) from Street Seen alerted me to your post on me. Thanks so much for the boost, and for thinking I have something to say. I saw that you guys are linked up with the movie “the Soloist”, and that’s so freaking cool. I just bought that book a few days ago, can’t wait to read it, and for the film.

Anyway – don’t worry everybody, I’m OK!

Well, the video interview with Mark Horvath of Hardly Normal is live here, as of today.

Some things you should know about me:

1) I do not, in fact, have a double chinned turkey neck in real life. I actually do have a jaw. I swear to God (Mark, please, please back me up on this!!!!!) I think that may just be the most unflattering angle on me ever, combined with the fact that the camera adds 20 lbs. (but why did it have to add them all in my face?!?!?!) So, yeah… kinda sorta mortified right now and kicking into damage control mode, because for all of my alleged stellar qualities, modesty is not one of them. I wish I could say it was, but… sorry. Like the vast majority of women, I desperately want to look pretty, especially in front of a zillion strangers :~\

2) I’m watching this video (with the sound down at work, so I still haven’t yet gotten the full horrific impact of this thing – what does my voice sound like?!) and I am realizing that I’m incredibly twitchy when I’m nervous. I’m gesticulating and fidgeting a lot. This bugs me incredibly, which means I’ll have to pay more attention to how I carry myself. Sigh.

3) My hair… Oh, god, my hair.

4) Lest you think I hate everything about myself and am just ragging and wallowing in self-pity, I do think that I have a pretty killer smile. And my St. Patty’s Day Faery T-shirt kicks major arse (thanks for the present, Aishwarya!) So there.

5) Obviously the cat is out of the bag – my first name is Brianna (they accidentally used my full first name instead of just ~B~). Well… fuck. Please, if you must call me anything, call me Bri. All of my friends do. I like it better than Brianna, anyway.

*whew* I shall now run and hide my face in my hands. Right after putting myself back on the liquid diet (this is Orange County, after all). Jamba Juice shall thank me.

Yesterday, I decided I should probably dye and trim my hair, since it was getting a bit out of control, and I want to continue looking presentable at my new job.

Luckily, my very first “official” job was at a beauty salon – I ran the front desk. I was twelve. I made friends with one of the hairdressers, L., and she has been cutting my hair on the cheap and/or free for the past 12 years. Touching up my roots presented more of a challenge… I thought it might be pushing it just a little too much to try coloring it in the bathroom of Planet Fitness, or the community college locker room. First of all, it’s about an hour-long process; second of all, it smells of unholy chemicals. At some point, someone would probably notice me, and I really don’t want random strangers to be aware of my existence or location at the moment.

So, I took the plunge, went into the salon early, gave a brief synopsis of the situation, and begged L. to let me put my color on there while she worked on her previous client. She lent me a cape and told me to have at it. Crisis averted.

The end result of my little beauty splurge yesterday is the monster ’60s bangs you see swallowing my face above. I love them. I’ve done it once before and it was fun, gave me a completely new look. Sometimes I need something to hide behind. Bangs are great for that.

My two youngest sisters are in Europe with their mom – currently, they’re spending time in Italy. There are no words for how much I envy them. The 17-year old has recently found herself a girlfriend, I’m so happy for her.

On a whim, Aishwarya and I drove out to Hollywood yesterday to see Sunshine Cleaners at the only California theatre in which it is currently playing (goes wide release on 3/20). We were early and it turned out, the theatre was right across the street from Amoeba music store, a place which holds decidedly complicated memories for me. Aishwarya had never been, so, underestimating the power of said memories, I dragged her in. Of course, it all hit in this massive tidal wave of emotion as I browsed through racks of thousands of used DVDs, and I was overwhelmed by incredible sadness and pain, so that sucked in general.

The movie was great, touching and funny. I knew going in that it was a dramedy about sisters who start a crime scene cleanup business, so I knew parts of it might remind me of recent events, but I wasn’t expecting the opening sequence, in which a man walks into a sporting goods store, asks to see a 20-gauge shotgun, and promptly sticks it under his chin and blows his brains out right there. I suppose it hit a little bit too close to home for me.

Also hitting close to home was Amy Adams in a role that just wrenched my gut. At one point, she says, “I’m good at getting men to want me… not date me or marry me… but want me”. I wanted to start bawling right there. I know the feeling. I suppose the initial shotgun incident started me off thinking about my biological father. I started thinking about how he didn’t love me and bailed out when I was 2, and how that kind of set the scene for my life and relationship history with men from there. Out of 7 relationships, not one has loved me. It’s difficult being with someone for months or even years, yet never once hearing “I love you”, from even a single man. Some men say it to women, even if it’s not true. I didn’t even get that. In my case, my men couldn’t say it because it wasn’t ever true. You start wondering, if someone can’t love you after six months, or a year, or two and half years – perhaps you really are unloveable. Or why a man who openly despises cheating and cheaters – an “uncheatable” man – somehow managed to cheat only on you. You think, if you’re the only one this uncheatable man could see himself cheating on, if you somehow drove the nicest man on the planet to cheat on you, there must be something really, really wrong with you. If you bared your soul and dared to become more intimate with each other than you ever thought possible, really exposed your guts and got up the courage to open up facets of yourself that no one had ever previously seen, and he still couldn’t love you, then no one could. Someone asked me for 3 wishes recently, and I gave them – one for myself, two for homeless people in general, and all the time my fourth, overwhelming wish was silently screaming, unbidden, pulsing like a siren, underscoring ever word that I actually spoke: “I want to be loved. I want to be loved back!!!!!”

So, of course, that sent me spiraling along a line of similar negative and sad thinking, which is on the whole, you know, kind of the opposite of what I’m going for. Sigh. What can I say. I’m human. It happens.

Anyway, the original point of my post is that I have awesome new bangs, The Bangs That Came From Outer Space And Devoured The World. Lovely, aren’t they?

I’m telling you, it’s awesome to have a best friend backing you up when you’re in a situation like I am. I’ve been in positions before where I’ve felt like I had absolutely no support, nobody to turn to, and it’s no picnic. When you’ve got the most amazing best friend in the world, though, nothing is too tough.

You guys have already read about “Dwight”. Now, I am introducing you to “Aishwarya”, the only other human being in my personal circle that has any idea about my current set of circumstances. I have given her a pseudonym, although she has given me permission to publish her photo here (this is the two of us last week, the day before my birthday, at a local community college theatre production).

Aishwarya has been my best friend since junior high school, when she moved to California from Bangladesh. We have been through some unbelievably tough times together, and she has endured a lot of personal B.S. throughout her young life, yet come out the other side stronger for it, and beautiful as ever. Despite her own incredibly busy and full life, Aishwarya has consistently found time to be there for me during all of this craziness. She is the kindest, most giving, biggest-hearted person I’ve ever met. Just wanted to give acknowledgement. She is heading off in June for about 6 months (job-related training) and I will miss her terribly.

As you can see, my face is still blotted out by the omnipresent green circle, haha. However, my face may soon enough be a matter of somewhat public record, even if my name/exact location shall not – a certain well-known homeless activist recently did a video interview with me *hides face in hands* so I suppose anyone interested enough may see me on camera soon. Blegh. I hate the way I look on film. Just so you know, they’re not kidding when they say the camera adds 10 or 20 lbs. If you watch said interview, don’t say I didn’t warn you. :`(

I’m also going to be doing another interview tomorrow (this time by telephone) with a very kind and seemingly awesome-sauce journalist writing an article on the mobile homeless for the Daily Beast. How weird do I feel right now? I swear, I never thought the words “I’m going to be doing an interview” would come out of my mouth (fingers?) unless it was in the context of job-searching. Anyway, happy to do what I can to help put the issue out there.

Still… so very, very weird.

Yay!!! I have two blog “followers”!!!!! I have no idea what exactly this means, but woohoo.

New article I wrote for Street Voices was posted on HomelessTales.com yesterday. Seems to have sparked a little bit of debate, which is good: Bad Choices vs. Just Plain Rotten Luck

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I’m getting old and I need something to rely on.

* * * * *

My fellow mobile homeless have all taken their RVs and fled… not sure why; Wal-Mart/police haven’t bothered us since talking to the manager; at least not to my knowledge – and no notes or tickets have appeared on my windshield. I knew P. was leaving for Lake Elsinore in the next couple of days – he found a campground out there and it’s much closer to his 13-year-old daughter. But the rest, I fear, left because they thought they might be towed :`( This is so sad to me – there are so few suitable alternatives out there; if these people couldn’t afford a campground and had to stay in a parking lot, where else will they be able to stay?

In any case, I am the sole trailer left in the parking lot (although there are still a few homeless left, all in cars/vans). I feel very naked, vulnerable, and stand-out-ish without a sea of trailers to blend into. Hopefully a few more will show up soon. I need cover. Plus, I got the opportunity to meet several of them over the last few days, and they were super awesome people. One was even a former dentist who spoke four languages!!!

* * * * *

Through newfound work connections (that’s right, 2 days in – I waste absolutely no time), I seem to have possibly sorta maybe found someone who can get me financed for the house. He pointed out loopholes – as a first time homebuyer, I only need to come up with 3.5% down payment, and apparently there’s some FHA program where I am allowed to ask for a seller’s contribution of 6% of the sales price to pay all of the down payment and some or all of the closing costs. He also seems to think that the credit/debt won’t be too much of a problem; thinks he can help me repair it in 35-60 days, especially now that I have a job. Downside of this is that I would have to schedule closing for at least 75 days out (leaving a buffer for any unexpected delays), but since the house is a short sale anyways, it’s likely to take at least that long, if not longer (could even be 6 months), so that doesn’t really make a difference. Please, please cross your fingers for me!!!

My bestest of the best friend, “Aishwarya” (she declined to pick her own pseudonym, so I named her after the most beautiful Bollywood star out there!) has a Human Services degree and is a certified grant writer. She is now the second personal acquaintance to be let in on my current situation. We went and had pina coladas on Monday to celebrate my new job, and just generally shot the breeze. Somehow, we stumbled upon the idea of having her write up a grant proposal to have the government give me some money to restore the house and use some of the rooms to accommodate 2-4 homeless women and children at a time, sort of a halfway house type thing (the home is pretty ginormous, like bed and breakfast big).

We’ll see. I hope I hope I hope.

The last couple of days have been insane and I’d really just like to relax, so here’s a catch-up recap:

Two nights ago, came home to notice taped to the window of my trailer threatening to “evict” me: “WAL-MART DOES NOT ALLOW OVERNIGHT PARKING!!!!! MOVE OR YOU WILL BE TOWED!!!!!”

Well, um, actually… yes, they do allow overnight parking. In fact, I called in advance and spoke to a manger, making sure of it.

Turns out some newer moron did some really stupid things, such as running his noisy generator around 1 a.m., littering all around his trailer (we’re talking paper trash, bottles, even socks!), and unhooking his trailer from his vehicle and leaving it in the parking lot while driving around in his truck, thereby technically “abandoning” a vehicle. Not only did he do all of this, but he did it while Wal-Mart corporate was visiting the store, and they took notice.

Long story short, five or six RVs fled that night in search of greener pastures, with no idea where to go. A few others and I stuck around, and two of us (myself and P., the “mayor” of the Wal-Mart parking lot, who has lived there for 4 months and counting) went into Wal-Mart in the morning to speak to the manager. We showered and put on business suits before going in.

The manager lady was nice (although she had to point out that we didn’t “look” homeless. Well, duh. That’s kind of the point). She said that corporate had visited the night before and that when they visit, they always send someone out to post those flyers on the long-term residents’ RVs (although they leave the homeless living out of cars and vans alone, which is lucky for them).

P. showed the lady all of the Wal-Mart receipts he had accrued, demonstrating just how much business Wal-Mart gets from allowing him to stay. I explained that we were quiet and kept to ourselves, never littered, etc. I also told her that I have a full-time job and am not a “bum”, I just need a place to park while I transition out of this, and had called ahead to make sure that would be OK.

She told us that we seemed nice and respectful, and recommended we just stay in the parking lot. She said that the store managers would not call the police on us or have us towed – they don’t want to have to pay to tow giant RVs out, plus, they really have no problem with us being there as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves. Really, it was just the corporate office’s beef, and they’ve left already. She said that if someone filed a complaint with the police, or the police came by of their own accord to speak to us, they would only ask us to move, not ticket or tow us. She said that if that happened, she would recommend moving to another Wal-Mart a few cities over, or to Sam’s Club, for a night or two. Then we could come back.

So, we have stayed, and no problems so far, for the past couple of days. I feel really bad for the people that they scared out of there with those mean flyers, though. Where will they go? Sadly, the Lord of the Generator was not one of the ones that left, you’d think he could take a hint. P. went over to his truck and tore him a new one, and there has been no late-night generator running since, although there is still litter around his trailer. What a slob. The parking lot is FULL of trash cans. I swear, it only takes one inconsiderate moron to ruin it for the rest of us.

* * * * *

First day of work today, and I think it went pretty well! I love the people that I’m working with, they seem very fun-loving and laid-back. The job itself is busy, but not particularly difficult, or at least I’ve been able to pick up everything quickly so far. The company works with about 500 mortgage lenders, so I may be able to find financing for my house through them, despite weak-ish credit due to about $10K in debt (incurred when I turned 18 – not great, but it could be a lot worse, right?) Two of the marketing girls actually recommended me to one lender, so here’s hoping!!!

I used to drive by “my” house (my best girlfriend calls it my castle; it’s this giant Victorian fixer-upper with a big, gnarly chery-blossom tree in the front yard, and at night it looks like the Haunted Mansion) every couple of days to remind myself of what I was working towards, but I stopped doing it about a week and a half ago, because for a while it just seemed like there was no way it would ever happen and it was too painful – I started to fear that maybe I’d drive by one day and see a “SOLD!” sign on there, and break down and cry, knowing that I had missed my chance forever. However, it looks like there may still be a ray of hope left, so maybe I’ll drive by again and give myself a perk-up.

Goals are important. If I can get the ball rolling on this house, I don’t even care if it takes the full 6 months to purchase (short sale, they can take quite a while). I’ll live in the trailer for 6 months, cheerfully waking up at 5 a.m. every day to drive to the gym and shower, so that I can head off to work and never tip off my coworkers that I’m living in a parking lot. I’ll do it all with a smile on my face and never complain once, I swear, if it means that I can have my house (P.S. God, take note of the preceding. I know I don’t particularly believe in you, but I swear I’ll at least make the effort to, if you help this happen for me!) ;~P