Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Nightmares
Thump, clack, thud. What's going on? A spear of light penetrates Shadow's meager defenses like an alien probe, searching. Smack, bang, crack. Am I awake? "Open the door!" an angry voice pierces the night silence. Adrenaline mixes with sleep, my body is frozen. The 4runner shivers on it's frame rails. I can feel his presence gaining fervor. "Come out here!" he demands. Flash, scan, zap. The spotlight pulses. Tiny luminescent fingers reach through every gap, stretching, inches from the raised hairs on my exposed neck. Where is he? My mind finally catches up with reality. A thousand thoughts rush through my head. My adventure is over. I'm busted. The cops found me. Some one is robbing me, or worse. "Unlock the door!" The voice is raging with hate. Where is he? Sharp slits of yellow light slice my swollen pupils. He's everywhere! My head is spinning in this hollow cavern, this house of mirrors. God, help me! End it! Deliver me! Silence. Pause. Thunk, a car door slams. Ticka, ticka, vroom, a car engine roars. Screech, a quick getaway. Silence. Is he gone? There could be others. Peering out of a crack in my cardboard shutters, the coast looks clear. The cold vinyl stings my thigh as I slide over the center console into the front seat and quickly pull the sunshade down. I won't be using this street again. Looking in the rear view mirror as I pull away I catch a glimpse of my guardian angel. It's a passerby who stopped to check his oil. He must have scared away my attacker as he pulled in behind with headlights flooding the scene, chasing away the dark.
Staggering Results
Crouched against the wall of the handicapped stall, body battles the mind. "Vomiting is a choice, not a necessity," I try to convince myself. A fever droplet makes a timeless leap from my forehead to the cold, white tile at my feet. Soaking into the urine-stained grout between two squares, it's gone before my eyes come back into focus. Staggering back to my cubicle, I'm a walking zombie collapsing against file cabinets and clinging to fake potted plants.
"I'm leaving," I gurgle and cough as I pass my manager's desk. The next thing I remember is waking up drenched with sweat under six inches of blankets in the hollow cave of a living space I have come to know as Shadow. Barely making out the time, twelve noon, my cell phone blinds my sleep encrusted eyes. This black metal house has become a sauna in the heat of midday. Rolling down the windows means risking sunburn, but it's the only remedy. After one more dose of NyQuil, the fever and aching bones are lost in a dream. I wake at sunset, fully purged of the demons of sickness that would return sooner than expected in another form.
"I'm leaving," I gurgle and cough as I pass my manager's desk. The next thing I remember is waking up drenched with sweat under six inches of blankets in the hollow cave of a living space I have come to know as Shadow. Barely making out the time, twelve noon, my cell phone blinds my sleep encrusted eyes. This black metal house has become a sauna in the heat of midday. Rolling down the windows means risking sunburn, but it's the only remedy. After one more dose of NyQuil, the fever and aching bones are lost in a dream. I wake at sunset, fully purged of the demons of sickness that would return sooner than expected in another form.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
A Web of Lies
The crinkling of a plastic bag echos off the white panelled ceiling. A dull glow of fluorescent light illuminates my pale forearms. My fingers plunge through the contents of the bag, searching frantically for a lost cell phone cable. Now into a cardboard box of DVDs and plastic airsoft pellets. With a thud, I drop the box in frustration. It has to be here! My eyes scan the cubicle, working in unison with my brain to match images with memory. Where did I put that thing? Stopping to take a breath, a bead of sweat rolls down my cheek. How can I be burning up inside this air conditioned office? Yes, I've got it. I remember it's in a Ziploc under some manila folders in the other cardboard box. Scrape, the lid is off and the cable is in hand! Suddenly, I am aware of the dead silence of an empty office on Saturday.
As I bolt for the stairs, the heavy wood door leading to the lobby swings open on my right. Blip, static, beep, his radio gurgles. "I've got nothing to hide," I think to myself. Without thinking I mutter, "I found what I was looking for" and start to open the stairway door. His red striped tie bounces off his gut and folds over his rent-a-cop badge as the guard turns after passing me. "Um, can I see your I.D.?" he manages to stammer just as I'm about to close the door behind me. There's no reason to run, although I could beat this greasy-haired tool on one leg if I had to. "Sure. See, I work right here. I just had to grab something before heading out for the weekend. Sorry about the noise." I cut off his babble about someone stealing documents from the second floor with a slam of the stairway door and I'm home free.
The office is more than a place for me to work now. It's personal storage. I've got tools, books, truck parts, a 2 ton automotive floor jack, and food all stowed away inside my file cabinets. I need some of this stuff on the weekends, so dodging security is a must. I don't want them getting suspicious and blowing my cover or worse, so extreme times call for extreme measures. The other day I told the parking lot security that I needed to leave my car there overnight. Usually they are cool, but this time he pried, "Why?" I gave him a blank look and it only took a moment for him to answer his own question. Kicking his head back and throwing a hang ten hand signal towards his lips, he shouted to his colleague, "This guy is going to the after-work social and is gonna be drinking. He needs to leave his car here." Done. It was that easy. I just let him assume I'd be at the coincidental "after-work social" and I had a free pass for the night. I guess doing nothing is doing something, sometimes.
On one final note, I was given a choice to be honest or lie to my dad and I chose the former, thank God. He received the title for my 4runner in the mail and asked me what it was for. At that moment I thought to myself, "I can tell him I lost the title for Teeny Greeny and ordered a replacement." Is it worth it, though, because eventually I'll have to expose the truth when I show my parents the SUV I've been sleeping in for the last few weeks. I sacked up and told him I bought something, unloaded all the "sleeping" evidence, and rolled down to his house. Perfect. They are happy I bought a new car, but they still don't know that I'm living in it.
Vagabond Tip of the Day: When standing in nothing but boxers at 3 a.m. in the morning, balancing with your frozen toes curled over the edge of a sidewalk curb, and peeing into a residential neighborhood gutter, duck when you see headlights.
As I bolt for the stairs, the heavy wood door leading to the lobby swings open on my right. Blip, static, beep, his radio gurgles. "I've got nothing to hide," I think to myself. Without thinking I mutter, "I found what I was looking for" and start to open the stairway door. His red striped tie bounces off his gut and folds over his rent-a-cop badge as the guard turns after passing me. "Um, can I see your I.D.?" he manages to stammer just as I'm about to close the door behind me. There's no reason to run, although I could beat this greasy-haired tool on one leg if I had to. "Sure. See, I work right here. I just had to grab something before heading out for the weekend. Sorry about the noise." I cut off his babble about someone stealing documents from the second floor with a slam of the stairway door and I'm home free.
The office is more than a place for me to work now. It's personal storage. I've got tools, books, truck parts, a 2 ton automotive floor jack, and food all stowed away inside my file cabinets. I need some of this stuff on the weekends, so dodging security is a must. I don't want them getting suspicious and blowing my cover or worse, so extreme times call for extreme measures. The other day I told the parking lot security that I needed to leave my car there overnight. Usually they are cool, but this time he pried, "Why?" I gave him a blank look and it only took a moment for him to answer his own question. Kicking his head back and throwing a hang ten hand signal towards his lips, he shouted to his colleague, "This guy is going to the after-work social and is gonna be drinking. He needs to leave his car here." Done. It was that easy. I just let him assume I'd be at the coincidental "after-work social" and I had a free pass for the night. I guess doing nothing is doing something, sometimes.
On one final note, I was given a choice to be honest or lie to my dad and I chose the former, thank God. He received the title for my 4runner in the mail and asked me what it was for. At that moment I thought to myself, "I can tell him I lost the title for Teeny Greeny and ordered a replacement." Is it worth it, though, because eventually I'll have to expose the truth when I show my parents the SUV I've been sleeping in for the last few weeks. I sacked up and told him I bought something, unloaded all the "sleeping" evidence, and rolled down to his house. Perfect. They are happy I bought a new car, but they still don't know that I'm living in it.
Vagabond Tip of the Day: When standing in nothing but boxers at 3 a.m. in the morning, balancing with your frozen toes curled over the edge of a sidewalk curb, and peeing into a residential neighborhood gutter, duck when you see headlights.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Break-In Period
It's not real yet. Life is still too normal. The fact that I am living out of a car hasn't hit me like a 1000 pound sack of lead-stuffed Beanie Babies, as I thought it would. Have you ever stepped into a new office on the first day of the job, or walked around during the grand opening of an amusement park? Everything is foreign and you walk around absorbing the sights as you aimlessly maneuver your way along a journey of brief discovery. It takes a while to get your bearings and figure out how to get back to your cubicle from the bathrooms across the maze of felt-covered partitions. After a few hours or even days, that soft pretzel stand you swore was right by the giant T-Rex is rediscovered at the feet of a fifty foot tall Captain EO Statue. Time slows down as the map inside your head adds layer upon layer of color and texture. This is the break-in period.
That is exactly where I'm at with this whole adventure. I'm zipping from street to street each night, timing street sweeping schedules and listening for high traffic thoroughfares. My evenings are filled with errands and craigslist sales meetings. I anticipated having too much time on my hands, but I've found myself struggling with a time-drought.
It's only a matter of time before a bright light bursts into shear instinctual eyelid contraction. Then, as I lift my head and open my eyes to a slight squint, I will see a green pasture of peace set before me. I'll have all the time in the world as the clock starts from scratch and I gleefully gather the tools to build a house with a view of the valley and river of life below.
Vagabond Tip of the Day: Pull over to the curb and pretend like you're talking on your cell phone as you wait for a resident to pull through the exit of a gated community. Throw your cell phone onto the passenger seat and gas it through the closing gates after the car has passed to score yourself a safe night's sleep.
That is exactly where I'm at with this whole adventure. I'm zipping from street to street each night, timing street sweeping schedules and listening for high traffic thoroughfares. My evenings are filled with errands and craigslist sales meetings. I anticipated having too much time on my hands, but I've found myself struggling with a time-drought.
It's only a matter of time before a bright light bursts into shear instinctual eyelid contraction. Then, as I lift my head and open my eyes to a slight squint, I will see a green pasture of peace set before me. I'll have all the time in the world as the clock starts from scratch and I gleefully gather the tools to build a house with a view of the valley and river of life below.
Vagabond Tip of the Day: Pull over to the curb and pretend like you're talking on your cell phone as you wait for a resident to pull through the exit of a gated community. Throw your cell phone onto the passenger seat and gas it through the closing gates after the car has passed to score yourself a safe night's sleep.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The First of Many
I'm doing it. I'm actually doing it! Last night was my first night out on the streets of Aliso Viejo. I stashed a bunch of stuff at work in my file cabinets, loaded up Teeny Greeny with all of my clothes and food, then locked myself up inside Shadow, the 4Runner. I left a window cracked, put up shades on all the windows, tucked myself into my foam bed, and drifted to sleep to the hum of late night traffic just outside. I admit, it was a little cramped. I didn't have time to organize everything and despite giving away a ton of crap, I still have a truckload of stuff. I'll clear out more space for tonight to really fine tune the experience.
I thought I would be freezing my butt off, but I slept for most of the night with just a sheet! My sleeping bag sat in a lonely roll an arm's length away, wishing it was cold enough for me to give it some attention. Waking up to the gentle buzz of my silent alarm clock was a relief because it signaled the success of my first night out, one of many.
Vagabond Tip of the Day: Make sure you check for passers-by before you step out of a car wielding a toothbrush and wearing a terry-cloth bathrobe.
I thought I would be freezing my butt off, but I slept for most of the night with just a sheet! My sleeping bag sat in a lonely roll an arm's length away, wishing it was cold enough for me to give it some attention. Waking up to the gentle buzz of my silent alarm clock was a relief because it signaled the success of my first night out, one of many.
Vagabond Tip of the Day: Make sure you check for passers-by before you step out of a car wielding a toothbrush and wearing a terry-cloth bathrobe.
Monday, February 19, 2007
What Have I Done?!
It's really happening. Today Julie and Katie's new roommate is moving into my room, taking my place now and forever. I sold, gave away, and threw out everything I didn't need. I'm down to bare necessities, plus a surfboard or two! Shadow is ready. That's the name I gave my black 4runner with blacked out windows. The rear seats fold down, creating a flat surface which is almost perfect for sleeping undercover (it's a pun, get it?). Tonight I need to move the rest of my possessions into Shadow and Teeny Greeny, my Toyota Tercel, and I'll commence my first night of urban camping.
Lately I've been dodging a lot of questions and prying about my living situation. A guy at work asked me, "Are you homeless? Is that why you signed up for the gym?" Don't ask me how he inferred that because telling the story will only make me more pissed off! Up in San Luis Obispo, an old friend asked if I had a lease at my rental in Laguna Niguel. I told her, "No, in fact, I could leave at any time, even Monday morning!" I took a few seconds to chuckle on the inside after saying that. Finally, another friend at work who knows I've been talking about moving onto the streets asked me when I'd be starting. I told him very soon. By soon I mean tonight! Ha.
I feel like I did right before I bungee jumped off the Colorado Bridge in Costa Rica (did I already say that?). I'm totally avoiding the seriousness of the situation and just going for it before I have time to convince myself to pull back. It's a great strategy, like stepping out in faith.
Speaking of faith, this past weekend I took the chance to evaluate my true motives and reset my thinking. I know that I want to go on this urban camping adventure, but I don't know exactly why and I don't have a clear goal set for my time aloof. I have a set time period. My goal is to make it to Brad's wedding without giving up or getting caught. What will I actually do during the next four months? After a quick brainstorming session, it hit me. I will complete an RFI mission, something I just made up. RFI: Reset, Focus, and Invest. That's it. I'll push and hold the reset button in my brain to clear all of the crap and influence of societal norms. Next, I'll focus on what's important in life, specifically Jesus. Finally, I'll invest in my relationship with God, family, and friends. What more can I expect to accomplish? And what else is worth my precious time here? Reset, focus, and invest... reset, focus, and invest,...
Lately I've been dodging a lot of questions and prying about my living situation. A guy at work asked me, "Are you homeless? Is that why you signed up for the gym?" Don't ask me how he inferred that because telling the story will only make me more pissed off! Up in San Luis Obispo, an old friend asked if I had a lease at my rental in Laguna Niguel. I told her, "No, in fact, I could leave at any time, even Monday morning!" I took a few seconds to chuckle on the inside after saying that. Finally, another friend at work who knows I've been talking about moving onto the streets asked me when I'd be starting. I told him very soon. By soon I mean tonight! Ha.
I feel like I did right before I bungee jumped off the Colorado Bridge in Costa Rica (did I already say that?). I'm totally avoiding the seriousness of the situation and just going for it before I have time to convince myself to pull back. It's a great strategy, like stepping out in faith.
Speaking of faith, this past weekend I took the chance to evaluate my true motives and reset my thinking. I know that I want to go on this urban camping adventure, but I don't know exactly why and I don't have a clear goal set for my time aloof. I have a set time period. My goal is to make it to Brad's wedding without giving up or getting caught. What will I actually do during the next four months? After a quick brainstorming session, it hit me. I will complete an RFI mission, something I just made up. RFI: Reset, Focus, and Invest. That's it. I'll push and hold the reset button in my brain to clear all of the crap and influence of societal norms. Next, I'll focus on what's important in life, specifically Jesus. Finally, I'll invest in my relationship with God, family, and friends. What more can I expect to accomplish? And what else is worth my precious time here? Reset, focus, and invest... reset, focus, and invest,...
Sunday, February 11, 2007
The Details
Now don't get too excited, or should I say worried? By no means am I saying I'm going to live the life of a "bum." That would be much too boring for me! I'm just going to change my housing situation to something a little more exciting. I'm working on buying a vehicle to sleep in right now because camping out or sleeping on doorsteps is simply not feasible in Aliso Viejo. I'm looking for a van or SUV to keep the wind off my nose and the bugs out of my hair. I plan on keeping my Tercel to zip around town and go on trips. After all, this adventure of mine is going to be kept top secret until the proper time. I certainly can't be rolling up to my parents' house in a huge van with a bed in the back. My dad will want to inspect the entire vehicle and of course he'll ask me why I have all of my possessions in the back. Wouldn't that be awkward? Having two cars and nowhere to park them could present a problem. I scoped out a couple streets within walking distance of my work that basically function as overflow for the local apartments. People park their extra cars, work vans, and RV's for days at a time. I'm going to rotate my living vehicle from street to street every couple days and use my Tercel to zoom over to work. If I get an SUV, space is going to be tight so having a second car will be great for storage, too.
I'm sure you've got a hundred other questions about food, showers, the bathroom, and where I'm gonna keep all my stuff. Trust me, I've been asked before and I've got answers for them all:
Food: Fresh fruits and veggies, non-perishables, eating out, and going to dinner at friends' houses.
Showers: Fluor 24-7 gym with free towel service.
Bathroom: At work, at dinner, in the bushes if necessary!
Sleep: Sub-zero mummy bag, foam pad, limo-tint windows.
Work: Same as always.
Surf: As much as possible, keep the wetsuit at a friend's house.
Favorite TV Shows: Watch at friends' houses or don't watch at all, which is even better!
Stuff: Sell it, give it away. What do you really need in life anyway, stuff-wise?
Anything else? If there's something I've forgotten, I'll soon find out!
I'm sure you've got a hundred other questions about food, showers, the bathroom, and where I'm gonna keep all my stuff. Trust me, I've been asked before and I've got answers for them all:
Food: Fresh fruits and veggies, non-perishables, eating out, and going to dinner at friends' houses.
Showers: Fluor 24-7 gym with free towel service.
Bathroom: At work, at dinner, in the bushes if necessary!
Sleep: Sub-zero mummy bag, foam pad, limo-tint windows.
Work: Same as always.
Surf: As much as possible, keep the wetsuit at a friend's house.
Favorite TV Shows: Watch at friends' houses or don't watch at all, which is even better!
Stuff: Sell it, give it away. What do you really need in life anyway, stuff-wise?
Anything else? If there's something I've forgotten, I'll soon find out!
The Experiment
I'm commited to boredom. I didn't listen to my heart. I didn't follow my plan. I took what was safe and available. That's not me. Now I'm paying for it with complete lack of motivation and self loathing. I hate what I have become. My career really sucks the life out of me and I'm about to fight back to regain my freedom. The first step is to see what I'm capable of, to test my limits, to break the mold and see if I'm really ready to wake up and live. The first step is an experiment.
I decided a couple months ago that my life is too easy. All of the pieces seem to be falling into place, except I didn't make the puzzle. The pieces are all wrong and I certainly wouldn't put them where they're trying to go if I had the choice. The funny thing is, I do have the choice. This is my life! I don't care about the house with the yard, the wife, or the two kids. Well maybe I do care about the wife, but you get what I'm saying. The American dream is not for me. I'm too crazy and adventurous for all that. It's in my genes (mostly just the crazy part).
With all this thought about living sane and doing what everyone else is doing, I can barely stand to watch my life tick away. I made a vow to myself to do something so bold, so different, and so not normal that I would shake myself awake from this slumber of boredom. I decided to be fully and purposely homeless. Everyone I know lives in a house, condo, or apartment. Why? Is it more than just a place to sleep? I'm about to find out.
I decided a couple months ago that my life is too easy. All of the pieces seem to be falling into place, except I didn't make the puzzle. The pieces are all wrong and I certainly wouldn't put them where they're trying to go if I had the choice. The funny thing is, I do have the choice. This is my life! I don't care about the house with the yard, the wife, or the two kids. Well maybe I do care about the wife, but you get what I'm saying. The American dream is not for me. I'm too crazy and adventurous for all that. It's in my genes (mostly just the crazy part).
With all this thought about living sane and doing what everyone else is doing, I can barely stand to watch my life tick away. I made a vow to myself to do something so bold, so different, and so not normal that I would shake myself awake from this slumber of boredom. I decided to be fully and purposely homeless. Everyone I know lives in a house, condo, or apartment. Why? Is it more than just a place to sleep? I'm about to find out.
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