Good god y’all that was the longest interview EVER. Good news, I am
the applicant for the apartment that I’ve already seen in the
neighborhood I like. Yay. Bad news, in order to hold the space and
finish my aplication today I paid the $40 fees myself (the housing
program will only pay to approved vendors with W-9s on file. I’ll just
pay the phone bill late) and it will be at least a week before I know
if I’ve got it. A week of nail-biting, for sure. I may be able to
squeeze a little extra time in the temp digs, but damn I hate to do
that. I know there’s another family that needs the space and every
extra day adds to their stress. So wish me luck. Lots and lots of
luck.

Jamie Dimon, the JPMorgan CEO who whinged about how us peasants just
don’t understand and are so mean we hurt his twee widdle feelings when
he was at Davos, is now whining to the US chamber of commerce about
how the very mild reforms enacted by congress will ruin everything for
rich banks. It reminds me a wee bit of an overindulged teenager, who
gets caught stealing the family car and driving while drunk after
mowing down a group of pedestrian nuns, complaining because now he has
to ask permission before taking the car on a drunken joy ride. What
the banksters need is some tough love, like maybe they have to spend a
year living on 8 bucks an hour with no health insurance or credit.

I spend a ridiculous amount of time filling out forms and knowing what
kind of forms I’m filling out makes the difference between getting
assistance or not getting assistance. There are forms to prove I don’t
make enough money (food stamps and medicaid), forms to prove I do make
enough (rental and credit apps) and forms to prove I make neither too
much nor too little (most housing programs). I am fortunate that I am
fluent in both bueracratese and English, which makes me an efficient
form filler. But not everyone is and the complexities and nuances of
what each program requires are a way to make the programs less
accessible to people who need them. It’s one of the reasons
Republifuckers hate the Earned Income Tax Credit. The form is
relatively easy to figure out, and if you find it too difficult the
IRS will figure it for you. But in general, complex applications are a
feature, not a bug, in assistance programs. The tiniest mishap gets
you either denied, or worse, criminally liable for fraud.

Tomorrow I have an interview for another apartment. Yes, an interview.
I’m not sure if I’ve seen the apartment or not seen the apartment
(there’s 2 buildings with 2 apartments. I’ve seen one and not the
other) but at this point I don’t care. The first was clean and well
managed so I think the second will be. And I’m desperate. I’ve got 6
days. Thank god we own nothing. Packing and cleaning can be down in an
afternoon. But yes, I have to be interviewed. So rub your luck
dragon’s belly one more time folks.

So medicaid sucks for dental, but this is what socialized medicine can
do. For at least the last 2 years I’ve been suffering from serious
fatigue and pain. I wake up and it’s like I’ve been beaten with a bag
of rocks before I even get out of bed. Doing anything, taking a
shower, grocery shopping, washing dishes etc was like climbing
everest. I have a family full of fibromyalgia sufferers. I thought
that all I would get was the hard side eye from doctors, or a Rx for
narcotics that would dull my brain. But I lucked out and my doc has
hit me with a multitude of minimal side effect treatments and a month
in I’m 75% better. I walked 2 miles today. I’m in a shit ton of pain
now, but 2 miles is like running a marathon compared to a month ago. 2
years of suffering with no insurance. One month with insurance and I
am a mostly productive person again. Go figure.(YMMV of course, but
I’m shocked as shit that the first round of treatment is working so
well. I’ve never seen that happen with fibro).

which is what the amount you get in food stams is.
I’m standing downtown in the rain, waiting for my bus. Homeless man
with his belongings in a black trash bag comes up and asks if he can
sell me a beer for a buck. He’s starving and doesn’t get more food
stamps All I’ve got is the money I need to get home and I’m out of
food stamps till the 8th. But Kid and I scored at the food bank and we
should be ok. Dude then goes on a rant that’s pretty familiar to me
about how the goddamned government is going to make him an alcoholic
cause they won’t give him enoung money to eat the whole month but he’s
been carting this fucking beer around and all he wants is dinner.
Goddamned government indeed.

someone has either taken off their shoes on the bus and has the
foulest smelling feet in history, or a small animal has died under the
seat after eating 12 pounds of goat cheese.

I just got out of the shower, put on the same Kiss My Face lotion that
I’ve used for ages, and suddenly my arms are burning hot, red and
itchy. I used all the same stuff on my legs and they’re fine. Good
lord do I want a cylon body so I can skip all this shit.

So it turned out that dream apartment was a craigslist scam. Fuckers.
But I go see another apartment tomorrow. I’m freaking out a lot. We’re
supposed to be out of our temp digs on April 5th. One week to find a
place and move and find beds and pay off electric bills and and and.
Good news is that I’ve managed to cobble together most of a kitchen
and a friend has a couch in his basement for us. It’s filthy with dust
from being used at burning man, but beggars, choosers, slipcovers etc.
And Aeryl got together a box of shirts for the kid including a Bob
Ross Happy Trees hoodie. We still need your happy thoughts, so keep
thinking them.

Renee at Womanist Musings has a great piece up called ‘Stop denying
white female privilege’. Remember my little kyriarchy prime, little
bits of privilege mix with little bits of oppression to make something
new. That’s an intersection. Also 2 (or more) oppressions can mix to
make something new. It’s like cooking. Oil and vinegar are 2 totally
disparate substances, but when you mix them together you have
dressing. So yes, white lady privilege ABSOLUTELY, UNEQUIVOCABLY
EXISTS. I lived for years as one of the few whites in a black
neighborhood and my neighbors and I All understood that if a person in
authority (like the cops) needed to be called, the best response
happened when it was my white lady presence talking to the authority.
When i got hassled by men on the street, my sole weapon was the
knowledge that if the police showed up I’d be believed because the
hasslers were always POC (not because POC are more likely to harrass
but because that was the neighborhood I was in.) That’s privilege.
Full stop.