Sneaux?

Yes, I have been remiss ... I haven't written on my damned blog in a week, but my excuse is that quite a lot has happened (which I will relate more of in a later post/and/or post(s). For one thing, I am no longer homeless, thanks to my friend Chester and a hell of a lot of running around on my part, doing things. I didn't get the place I initially wanted, but, as it turns out, this is probably going to work out better, at least for now. It is actually about 40m from the place where I lived, years ago, on Highland, even thought the building has been torn down and a Jack-in-the-Box now stands there (more about that later).

So, even though it is an "efficiency" walk-up (which means carrying my bike up and down a flight of stairs), it has quite a lot of space and an actual view, albeit of the JITB parking lot, so I can watch people driving through and buying crappy food all day long, if I get really, really bored. I have been luxuriating in the total freedom of actually having a place to stay (which mostly means goofing off a lot and taking LOTS of naps). I actually get to cook food now, because I have a refrigerator that has real food in it, not MREs or take-out. Tonight, I had a bit of steak, a baked potato with sour cream and chives, and yes, oh yes, my very first egg nog of the season (with a stiff shot of whisky in it!). Oh, bliss!

Oh, yeah: I have an inflate-O-bed, with real sheets and pillows and a comforter on it, and a gas fire (so what if it isn't a fireplace?), and a brand new microwave that I just got, which is really cool, and didn't cost me much; and (best of all) I can snag two WiFi signals for free, even though the reception is poor, so I really can't do YouTube or other video ,most of the time: I still have to go to Cc's or someplace else for that. So,it's heaven on Earth.

So, I worked until 8 yesterday, and, when I got off, it was near freezing and pouring rain, and the weatherman (or men or women) had predicted snow. For some reason, people here find it necessary to spell snow as sneaux, as kind of a cutesy faux (real word) French word. The real French word for snow is niege, which hasn't got an 's' in it at all. Go figure. I rode my bicycle home (as usual) and was half-frozen and wet from the waist down when I got home (great word!). I lit the fire, stripped off my wet clothes, dried off, got into dry ones, and fixed dinner.

When you ride a bike in the rain, the back wheel throws water up your back. The water proceeds down the middle of your back, into your shorts, down your butt-crack and thoroughly saturates your balls. This is unpleasant. Just as unpleasant is having splash from the road fill your shoes, so your feet are cold and wet, as well. The feeling of wet nuts, a wet bottom and sloshy feet is indescribable: it took about an hour for my testicles to reappear: they were in hiding.

I got all comfy and warm and ate and watched Dark Knight, which was extremely kewl, and goofed off for awhile. I stay up late, so I was still up around 3:30, when I heard this familiar tapping noise on my window. I though, "no, it can't be ...", but, when I looked out the window, yes, it was actually snowing. This is South Louisiana ... snow is a rarity here. I went outside and took some video with my phone and some pictures, which I uploaded. I am going to try to put them on this blog.

The whole city pretty much shut down the next day (which is today): all the schools and a lot of government offices were closed. They closed a lot of bridges (which we have a lot of here) so a lot of people didn't make it to work. I don't like snow. I remember the very first time I met snow, when I was about 3. My parents thought it would be fun to dress me up in a little "snow suit" and take me outside and take pictures of me and the snow. I hated it and started crying. You can tell by my face in the pictures that I thoroughly hated it. Had I been older, I would have called Family Services on them. How sadistic! I could have gotten frostbite, and lost my fingers, and not been able to type this, years later. What a loss to the world that would have been!

At any rate, I'm going to try putting photos and maybe some video in my blog. I'll try to post more and fill in some of the other stuff that's happened lately. For now, I'm going to have another egg nog, with plenty of whisky: it's good against the cold. That's my excuse, and, if not medical science, then those big dogs with the Swiss ski patrols, at least, will back me up (or, is that brandy?).

I Got a New, Kewl Phone!

Lots and lots of things have been happening. Of course, yesterday was Thanksgiving, and Travis and Fernando and I ate shrimp and risotto con funghi and drank wine, and I slept inside (yay!).

Wednesday, Chester came into the store and wroe me a check for $1000 and said: "Carl, go get an apartment. Pay me beck when you can." That was cool. So, now, I have the money fr an apartment. Two hours later, Wallace Eversberg, whom I have rented from before, happened to come into the store and I asked him if he had a one-bedroom open and he said yes, at 525 State, so I told him I would call him about it. Unfortunately for me, it appears that his office is closed today, as well, so I won't be able to rent it until Monday. I have already gone by and looked at it. It is right down the street from Travis' apartment, and David's, so we will all be neighbours (actually, we are already neighbours, only I will actually have an address, now). So, I guess I will spend this week-end outside. I am considering spending the money for a room tonight, since it is supposed to rain (it is sprinkling now) and I will still have enough to pay rent and deposits. I would also dearly love to sleep in a bed, since I haven't since Thursday past. At any rate, I will soon actually live somewhere! Yay!

I got a new phone! It is a Samsung Rant, and I have unlimited data and text on my new contract. It will end up costing me $50, with the mail-in rebate. It is utterly kewl! It's got a slide-out full keyboard and a full-colour screen that flips when you slide the keyboard out. I can access the web with the built-in browser and even connect directly to YouTube (once I figure out HOW to do anything on it). It's really fancy. It's red, too. It's got Google. I have no earthly idea how to use it, although I did manage to make a couple of calls and I think that I actually sent a text message successfully. I am sitting at CC's, going over the manual. I am generally pretty good with tech stuff, so I am sure I will be able to use it after a short period of adjustment. Right now, it has capabilities I haven't even dreamt of yet! Golly!

The girl at the store was really nice. Turns out she writes poetry, so we exchanged e-mail addresses, and she gave me the URL to her own website, and I will check out her poetry. Strange, how I meet interesting people all the time.

Oh, well. Back to the manual. Maybe I can figure out how to blog and vlog from my phone. Hope La Quinta has a room open tonight. Got tomorrow off. Wish I could spend it moving, but I guess Monday will be the day for moving. Good thing my next check wil be a fat one, since I worked the holiday. Maybe things are (kind of) looking up.

I'm Going to Buy Some Socks Today

Even though yesterday didn't turn out too badly, and I got to spend time with friends and had good food, I am really feeling down right now. I am about to go in to work for 6 o'clock, but I haven't done anything all day except surf the net (mostly UK YouTube) and blog. I really need something more constructive to fill my time. I have been doing some writing, but I need to actually APPLY MYSELF to my serious work more. It's just that I wind up other places all the time, like CC's or Zippy's or Serrano's, blogging and just hanging out, and I feel like I am just spinning wheels and not really going anywhere. I need some kind of direction. I can't just live my life randomly documnting junka as I think of it or as it happens, can I?

Jeez. There are so many talented and amazing young people on YouTube, in the UK. There are a few here, too, but there seems to be more of a unified YouTube community in the UK. Maybe not. Maybe that is just my impression. Yes, it is a powerful tool, as the last election demonstrated, but what will the actual result of all this blogging and vlogging be? I would kind of like to do some of it myself, but I am not sure exactly what I should do. Besides, could someone my age actually do this kind of thing?

I don't know. All I do know, right now, is that I have to go to work, and I am going to stop at Wal-Mart and get some socks, because I don't have any clean socks and only two pair that I am using all the time, and I have to shave when I get to work because I didn't have a chance to shave today. I will see if I can borrow Travis' shower tomorrow morning, so I can be clean for work.

I really want to get out of this situation. I really hate this. It is so depressing. Everybody needs a place to go.

Psychodrama

Wrote my last post at CC's Coffee House on Perkins Rd. Thank God (or man) for coffee houses with WiFi! Fucking Starbucks charges for the privilege, which I think is really absurd for a company based in Seattle, which is, like, IT central and a very progressive city, with free WiFi all over the place, but then, I didn't have to close down hundreds of my franchises nationwide, so what the fuck do I know, anyway? It is half-price margaritas tonight at Serrano's (one of my favorite places, if you haven't noticed) and I am drinking a couple of margaritas and eating queso dip and chips (which is all my current budget will support, at least until I get paid tomorrow), and writing this.

I am a Commissioner-in-Charge for elections, which is one of the people who sits at a table when you go in to vote and certifies that you are qualified to vote, and we had a class for CICs tonight, way down Perkins Rd., at LPB (Louisiana Public Broadcasting), which was a good 5-mile sprint from CC's, and a good 7 miles back to campus. The Election Department is expecting record turnout for the election. There will also be unprecedented coverage by individual voters, via YouTube, which may make this the most reported election in history, by more people than ever efore, in real time. Sounds awesome, but it could present some problems for those of us who have to run the election, so we went over that and a lot of other issues for about 90 minutes, and then I rode back here.

Perkins Rd., like many of Baton Rouge's major thoroughfares, is not terribly bikeable. Streets are spottily maintained here, at best, and that means that I have a LOT of flats and broken spokes. The drivers here are, for want of a better word, mostly assholes. They act as if they had never seen a bicycle before: many are just simply oblivious to the fact that their idiotic actions compromise your life and safety, and a lot of them are just plain nasty. It is a rare day when I don't get horns blown at me and/or obscenities screamed out of windows at me. I have had things thrown at me and even had people follow me down the road, just to harass me longer. Tonight, I was called a "fucking bitch" by some redneck in a black pickup. If he only knew ...

The other night, I was invited to spend the night at my friend, M's. She told me that she had talked to her bf, and that we might work out some kind of deal, at least where I might be able to stay over a night or two a week, and borrow the shower (which is a MAJOR consideration in my current predicament). I said, yay. So, I went by their apartment after I got off. He was out with some friends, which she said she had given him permission to do, since he had been working hard lately and hadn't flown into one of his (apparently frequent)rages. I got to take a shower, and she gave me a samdwich. We sat up talking for a while, and I went to bed, in the spare room, about 1 AM.

About 2:30 or so, I was awakened by the sounds of raised voices and then something being smashed in the living room. I decided that it might be more prudent for me not to involve myself in their "discussion", because I generally do not like insinuating myself between people (especially when they are arguing, and it is none of my business), and for fear of making things worse. Imagine my surprise when she came into the back bedroom a few minutes later and asked to borrow my cell to call the police, because he had turned the electricity off so that she couldn't use the (only) cordless. I let her, then got up and got dressed, because I was not going to let anything happen to my cell: that and my laptop are my lifelines to an actual world.

When I got into the living room, he was gone. She told me that he had split when she called the cops. A cop had come by and she had told him what the situation was, and he had advised her to leave. Of course, being from Montana, over a thousand miles away, she really had no place to go. I could certainly understand that situation: it is mine. Of course, I am not a woman. Being on the streets might be rougher on a woman, although finding shelter might be easier. Of course, the shelter you find might come with a price you are unwilling to pay.

So, we talked for a while. He had left, supposedly for a friends, after destroying her portable stereo and his own laptop (yeah, go figure). He had left the only key and his cell. She told me that she was planning to leave him, once and for all, and go home to Montana. I told her that I sympathized with her, but, because it is against my personal ethos, couldn't tell her what to do. We talked for a while, and I went back to bed again.

About 4:30 or so, I was awakened by pounding on the front door and her bf screaming incoherently outside. A few moments later, the window above the bed where I was sleeping, along with the blinds, came crashing down onto the bed where I was lying, and psycho bf crawled in through it, nearly on top of me.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" he yelled, before exiting the room. I decided that I should get up and see what was going on at this point, for my own safety, as well as hers (he had firearms in the apartment), so I pulled my jeans on and went into the hall. She was backed up against the wall, telling him that she had called the police again, and that they were on the way. He noticed me and turned around.

"Sorry about all this, bro'" he said, in a surprisingly mild tone. "But she's fucking nuts!" Then he left again.

This time, I waited with her for the police. An officer came (the same one as before), only this time, he actually filed a report. He took my name and asked me what I had seen, and I told him. When he asked me my address, I told him I was homeless, and that I had been offered a bed for the night. He asked me why I was homeless, and I explained the story, of how I had stuck my neck out to help some friends, and they had burned me (more on this later).

"I think we had a call like that, a while back," he said, eying me suspiciously.

"If you did," I said. "It wasn't me." It's amazing how some people react when you tell them you are homeless. I notice that a lot of people suddenly look at you as if you aren't quite trustworthy, as if something is wrong with you. One guy recently, an older man, upon my telling him that I was homeless, looked at me strangely and asked, "Are you gay?", as if that had anything to do with it. I asked him why he would ask such an absurd question, and he mumbled something about a lot of "gays" being homeless. I told him that that was one of the most ignorant things I had ever heard.

Anyway, the cop went to look for psycho bf, and I stayed up with M. for a little while. I finally put the window back into place (kind of) and went back to sleep, with one eye open.

I woke up in the morning, and psycho bf was back. I changed into my riding gear and got my stuff and got ready to leave.

"You busted things up!" she told him. "Even your own laptop!"

"You made me do it," he whined (actually WHINED). Isn't it amazing that it's never the abuser's fault. "You made me hit you!" come to mind. Anyway, I was on my way out the door and he said, "I don't want you staying here any more." I was about to say, "No way in hell, you drunk, psycho lunatic fuck!I'll take the possum any day (or words to that effect)!" when he said: "Not you. I mean her." I split.

Of course, my tire was flat and I had to walk to work and fix the tire before I left. M. had told me to tell either Me. or D. at work that she wouldn't be in that afternoon, and explain why, so, when I got there, I told Me., who said that she knew something about the story.

"She's afraid that, if she leaves, he'll lock her out of the apartment," I said. Then added: "He's a violent, abusive, alcoholic psycho." Then I went to work.

I worked a 12-hour shift, then headed back to the Possum Hilton, suddenly appreciative of it's relative peace and quiet. I settled in for the night in my sleeping bag. I had just got to sleep when my cell rang (I have GOT to remember to put it on silent when I sleep!), and it was M.

"My bf really felt bad about last night," she said, sounding as if nothing had happened at all. "We had a long talk, and he's going to stop drinking. Hey. Do you know anybody you can score some weed from? You could come over and we could get high, and you could spend the night. I really need to get totally stoned tonight."

"Uh," I said, half asleep and the other half trying to put my head around this conversation. "I'll get in touch with a few people and I'll get back to you." Then, I went back to sleep. The phone rang again, an hour later: it was M. This time, I put it on silent.