the other side of "traveling at the speed of life"
being homeless by choice is fabulous. hands down, one of the best decisions i've ever made (that's either not saying much or saying a whole lot). i imagine that being homeless, not by choice, sucks. that's why i always give money to the ones asking for it. always. all of my friends have "made it", so to speak. they have spare bedrooms with really comfy beds. most of the time i even have my own bathroom. they all have nicer places than i've ever called my own. so i really enjoy staying with them & am very thankful that they invite me to (even if i question their sanity by doing so). they have cable TV with lots of channels. they have couches that practically have to be set on fire to get me off of them. my car is amazing. her name is Mary-cedes, and she's old enough to buy her own beer. none of her gauges work. nor does the odometer. so that means i never know how much gas i have, nor do i know how far i've traveled to even take a guess. i don't know what the oil pressure is, but i know she burns almost as much oil as gas, so i tend to just put both of them in when i remember. i have no idea if she's ever overheated, but we've made it through the last 5 months. once, i ran out of fuel on a 5 lane freeway in southern california, known as the 405. if there truly is a hell, it's the 405. if you've been on it, you know. if you haven't, you can't imagine. driving on it is like going to war, except every single person is their own army and it is a battle to the death. there were concrete construction barriers on the shoulder, so that meant there was no place to pull off. i've got good ole Mary-cedes, in neutral & we're coasting about 35 mph on the 405, which is slow enough to get you shot at, even by a grandmother. additionally, no one in southern california would ever deign to help a stranded motorist, so i know i'm screwed if Mary-cedes doesn't make it. i'll be that asshole that blocked a lane of traffic on the world's most horrendous highway. but then there it is! the exit ramp. i'm going to make it. i'm coasting down the ramp, with enough shoulder to pull over. i'm smiling. i feel good. i'm the only person on the 405 that feels that way. but wait, there's a fuel station across the intersection. the only thing standing between me & glory is a red light with 2 cars stopped at it. the light turns green, the cars go, & i coast through, gracefully stopping at the pump, like i planned the whole thing. i could get the gauges fixed, but how much would that cost? doesn't matter, it's not worth it to me. i also have no brake lights. or reverse lights for that matter. the no brake lights thing scares me a little. i really don't want rear-ended. i've been pulled over twice for them & i'd like to thank both officers for not giving me a ticket.
being homeless by choice is fabulous. hands down, one of the best decisions i've ever made (that's either not saying much or saying a whole lot). i imagine that being homeless, not by choice, sucks. that's why i always give money to the ones asking for it. always. all of my friends have "made it", so to speak. they have spare bedrooms with really comfy beds. most of the time i even have my own bathroom. they all have nicer places than i've ever called my own. so i really enjoy staying with them & am very thankful that they invite me to (even if i question their sanity by doing so). they have cable TV with lots of channels. they have couches that practically have to be set on fire to get me off of them. my car is amazing. her name is Mary-cedes, and she's old enough to buy her own beer. none of her gauges work. nor does the odometer. so that means i never know how much gas i have, nor do i know how far i've traveled to even take a guess. i don't know what the oil pressure is, but i know she burns almost as much oil as gas, so i tend to just put both of them in when i remember. i have no idea if she's ever overheated, but we've made it through the last 5 months. once, i ran out of fuel on a 5 lane freeway in southern california, known as the 405. if there truly is a hell, it's the 405. if you've been on it, you know. if you haven't, you can't imagine. driving on it is like going to war, except every single person is their own army and it is a battle to the death. there were concrete construction barriers on the shoulder, so that meant there was no place to pull off. i've got good ole Mary-cedes, in neutral & we're coasting about 35 mph on the 405, which is slow enough to get you shot at, even by a grandmother. additionally, no one in southern california would ever deign to help a stranded motorist, so i know i'm screwed if Mary-cedes doesn't make it. i'll be that asshole that blocked a lane of traffic on the world's most horrendous highway. but then there it is! the exit ramp. i'm going to make it. i'm coasting down the ramp, with enough shoulder to pull over. i'm smiling. i feel good. i'm the only person on the 405 that feels that way. but wait, there's a fuel station across the intersection. the only thing standing between me & glory is a red light with 2 cars stopped at it. the light turns green, the cars go, & i coast through, gracefully stopping at the pump, like i planned the whole thing. i could get the gauges fixed, but how much would that cost? doesn't matter, it's not worth it to me. i also have no brake lights. or reverse lights for that matter. the no brake lights thing scares me a little. i really don't want rear-ended. i've been pulled over twice for them & i'd like to thank both officers for not giving me a ticket.
technically, i have not had an address that i actually live at, in the US, in about 18+ months. i'd like to thank the internet for making my lifestyle possible. this would've been a lot harder years ago. i've decided that home is where my toothbrush is. i've been back in california for 5 months in an effort to make some money. every time a friend says "do you wanna...?" i don't even let them finish the question. i just say yes. i understand most people would not want to have their whole life reduced to a snowboard bag, a surfboard bag, and few boxes of photos in a friend's garage. but it keeps things easy. when i go out with my friends, they know they will see me in 1 of about 3 outfits that are appropriate for public. we call these my "going out uniform". most of my clothes are either really old, have been given to me, or bought with someone's employee discount. i wear them long past their expiration date, but i'm not as bad as my brother. often times, i'm getting ready to go somewhere (like yoga or the grocery store), & i map out the route i plan to take in my head. then i walk outside & realize i'm not where i thought i was & have to make a different route. its not a big deal, but i think i understand what homesickness is. i don't get homesick, but there's something inside of you that tells you where you are. a biological homing device. you take it for granted. you don't notice it, but sometimes i get so disoriented. once, i changed time zones, plus 1 daylight savings time change, 6 times in 8 weeks. i couldn't even guess what time it was anymore. these things have the potential to really mess with your head. i like them. i like getting lost. i like not knowing where i'm going. i like not knowing where next week will take me. plans stress me out. my life is my adventure. i make certain sacrifices to keep it that way. certain sacrifices that make most people wonder what the hell i'm doing with my life. commitment-phobe may or may not be the right word. i don't crave stability. i like last minute decisions. how does that saying go? "everybody dies, but not everybody lives".
