Aidpage

Struggling families nationwide apply for a free charity car at the organization’s car distribution website www.FreeCharityCars.org. The website was designed to make the process of choosing who receives a free vehicle as fair as possible by providing a forum where individuals can engage the public and pro-actively pursue their dream of car-ownership. The website also provides the charity with the ability to quickly identify qualified recipients and to match each donated vehicle with each prospective applicant’s specific need. Surprisingly, the unique website has organically morphed into an ever expanding online community offering compassion and hope to struggling Americans.

I'm in Santa Barbara, CA. I can definitely help you out with my utility dilemna. In a nutshell, after I lost my business in 2009, I've had a world of trouble keeping my family housed.. My two boys and I also lived homeless in our cars for just under one year.  Now facing my ninth eviction in three years, and all utilities are in arrears.

But, not just a little bit.... The gas company normally averages $10 per month...I owe them over $300-. They finally caught up with me for late and unpaid bills for some of my past residences where I simply left the bills unpaid because I was dead broke.

The electric company won't even give me a new account, so I left the bill in my landlady's name (without her permission). I owe them thousands of dollars for past service for my business and home utilities.

I cannot open an account with the cable company for TV or internet because according to their records, I owe them over $1000-

Water and trash are paid by the landlady in this apartment, but I owe them over $300 as well.

You can read part of my story at http://homelesshousewife.wordpress.com/2011/12/10/thehomelesshousewife/

Let me know if I can help your story out. 

Sincerely,

The Homeless Housewife

http://homelesshousewife.wordpress.com/2012/01/08/the-homeless-housewifes-resources-and-links-for-assistance/

sorry, I think that last link was wrong......so here it is......

Geez, I just saw your post...I am so sorry I missed you and your children until now, but I want you to know about my website.... http:// https://homelesshousewife.wordpress.com/2011/12/26/the-homeless-housewifes-resources-and-links-for-assistance/

Theres a christmas assistance site as well as other help links....email me if you need any other kind of help.

My blessings,

The Homeless Housewife

Hello, I am The Homeless Housewife

I am thrilled you are here. Please take a few minutes to look around.

You can read my (very true) story by scrolling down just a little.  Be sure to visit my blog, and links and don't forget to shop at the store. All proceeds go towards the cause of getting women & their children to avoid homelessness and to remain or regain a home.The HPRP ( Homeless Prevention Rapid Rehousing) program was defined to assist families under the poverty level facing homelessness.  Over the last two years my family was denied 9 times by the various Santa Barbara agencies in charge of these funds.  We were not denied because we didn't qualify.......

On the contrary, please read on...... 

It is December 2011

I am a homeless housewife...and here’s my story............

but, before you read, I would like to take a moment to say this...

There are a number of nonprofit homeless outreach programs that do so much

research,  statistic collecting, fundraising, advocating, storytelling and promising....

yet nobody follows through with actual assisting.

My family and I have been homeless for over one and a half years now.....

Yet nobody can tell by looking at us...We don’t act, dress, or smell the part. You won’t find us panhandling, or flagging signs.  You won’t catch us squatting next to the 7-11 with three open containers. 

It may be due to the fact that we don’t hang out at the shelters. You know the ones that house 100s of the stereotypical homeless Santa Barbara locals that randomly get put on the cover of our local weekly paper a hand clutched to a 1/2 pint of $1.75 booze.

In retrospect, we look for work, go to school, go to the grocery store, get gas, walk through the mall, and drive in cars....

...just like 98% of the population.  We walk, talk and act just like everyone else. You may have walked right past us and not even known it.  We are actors, invisible, like chameleons.  We have the tendency to blend right in, not on purpose, or to trick or fool you. Simply because that is who we are. We hold onto every shred of dignity and pride that we have left....

because essentially that is all we have left....

That is ....our dignity,.... and an 8x12 foot storage locker that contains ethereal memories of our past.  Memories of a three bedroom, two bath structure that we once lovingly referred to as ‘home’.  Memories that tend to fade more and more each day, the longer and longer we go without a roof over our heads.

Most likely that storage locker is now double pad locked by the storage company due to nonpayment, with penalties and late fees that have accumulated into astronomical amounts overnight, with no rhyme or reason, making it nearly impossible to keep.

A storage locker that holds every last bit of our worldly possessions.  And, though these belongings were once taken for granted, they now represent everything in this world that we hold dearly.  They hold reminiscences of our childhood, of our children growing up, of our marriage, of our divorce, bittersweet memories, happy times, and trying times.

But then somehow we come to a realization.  These items that remain holed up in that dark and dingy locker just don’t mean that much to us anymore.

We would rather fill our tummies, or pay for the comforts of a cheap motel room, than keep paying for that locker.  So we start to sell off these items one at a time.  First we sell the old overstuffed armchair that nobody really sat on anyways, next  the kitchenware, dishes, pots & pans, and finally our heirlooms, and jewelry from Grannie that we vowed to pass on to our children’s children one day.

We garage sale our belongings, craigslist them, we even EBay and Amazon our personal possessions.  

And we do this in hopes of a miracle; a simple wish that remains ungranted, 

a wish to go ‘Home’.

See, there are many homeless individuals like me...

We will remain invisible. Not because we choose to, but for a variety of reasons.  We are the unseen.  Perhaps it is due to our pride, or ego. It could be because we haven’t shown up on television or radio shows.  You won’t find us on any 'Most Wanted' posters, we are not red flagging ourselves, and we do everything in our power to remain under the radar.

Maybe it’s because we don’t speak up enough, or we are too timid or ashamed or frightened to speak up.  It could be because we are not belligerent drunks who, like a billboard, advertise their obnoxiousness for the entire world to view. We are not hooked on prescription pills, or booze.  We don’t self-medicate with street drugs and we do not sling dope to all of our friends.

Though we have made every effort to seek assistance, we are unsuccessful.  We apply at one, two, three...perhaps even to every single agency that advertise their services.  The only result we get is rejection, denial and...

”Sorry, we can’t help you.”

“You don’t make enough money.”

“You make too much money.”

“You were too late in applying.”

“You need to come back again next month.”

“Well, you do have a car to sleep in, don’t you?”  

“Oh, it’s warm enough to sleep outside.”

So, essentially we get passed over by agencies and remain not helped, not assisted, but instead we get rejected by every '”homeless advocate” agency in town...

And these agencies do not offer alternative solutions for us.  Instead, they allow us to walk out their door with utter defeat and no solution to this epidemic disease we refer to as indigence.  After a while we become accustomed to their rejection, and simply start to accept the word ‘No’.   And we shuffle away with our heads a little lower, with no argument, or defiance.

We start to believe that we are unworthy of public assistance and housing programs.  We even get rejected by the shelters.  

We hear, “Your children are too young to stay here. They will be influenced negatively by the older homeless men.”

Or on the other hand we hear, “Your children are too old. They will influence the younger children.”

So, while the pot-bellied drunks get clothed, fed, and housed nightly, my family remains parked on some dark side street in 30-degree winter weather with pillows and a blanket, shivering our asses off all night.  We don’t really sleep while we are parked out there in your neighborhood, because, believe it or not, we are more afraid of being seen or of getting caught breaking the law since it is illegal for people in California to sleep in their cars on streets.

We lay awake worrying about being harassed by people on the streets or ticketed by police.  We lay awake wondering when this nightmare will end.  Where will we get our next meal, and where will we go to the bathroom next.  Where will we park unnoticed at daybreak, and where can we sneak into for our next shower without being recognized.  We stay awake and worry about these things because in Santa Barbara the law states that if you sleep in your vehicle while parked on a public roadway or parking lot, the police can roust you.  They can even nab you for vagrancy, & they will require an actual mailing address, proof of employment, and so on.

Heaven forbid we happen to get a citation for not wearing a seat belt.  And, though we send in a written testimony in defense, it gets rejected, and we are found guilty.  Then the citation turns into an added failure-to-appear infraction and that infraction goes to warrant, simply because we did not have the means to pay for the original no-seat belt citation.  Then that warrant is reported to the Department of Motor Vehicles, and in turn, the DMV suspends our driver’s license.

At this point, we really never fall asleep at night because just by the simple action of sitting behind the wheel of our car, we have become lawbreakers and criminals.  And when the police finally catch up with us, we get a real treat.  Not only do they cite us…  (Again), but now they are mandated by law to impound our vehicle for no less than 30 days.  We are left standing on the side of the road, with a bewildered look of...

"Did that really just happen?!?”

and we question the fact that it is perfectly legal for the civil servants of our community to take away our car & only shelter and what is left of our personal possessions & the rest of our dignity.

We become accustomed to that dark cloud that refuses to dissipate from above our head.  We don’t want to be noticed, so...we remain the unseen homeless...victims of circumstance, who damn well make sure we do not portrait anything but the quintessential perfect family to any unsuspecting onlooker. Because hell will freeze over before anyone discovers our dark, dirty little secret.  We have been passed over repeatedly, with not even a blink.

But we want you to know, we are right outside your door.

And though you sit in your cozy little house with your cozy little cat, your Sunday paper, and your bunny slippers, we need you to realize that you may be next.

They say that the only thing that is sure is that nothing is sure.

So, take heed, and do not take your comfort for granted because in an instant, your world can change.

One more piece of advice…

If you seek assistance from your local homeless service providers, one thing is certain... 

You will REMAIN homeless.

I am The Homeless Housewife.  Please feel free to email me with any comments or suggestions at  HomelessHousewife@Hotmail.com

I had no clue that this economy would take such a toll on my family, nor that the assistance programs would act like squirrels with their nuts and hide the money and make it unreachable. I am short on rent and facing eviction now, for the nineth time in three years!!!!  This is getting ridiculous!

Please take a moment to view my website at http://www.homelesshousewife.yolasite.com.

Also it would help if you would like my facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/TheHomelessHousewife. 

Anyone seeking assistance please stay in contact with me. I am building a network of voices and I plan on being heard!! My email is HomelessHousewife@Hotmail.com.

 The cold months are headed our way and it way sucks to be homeless in the freezing cold. My advice for anyone facing eviction and homelessness....Work fast, tell everybody and anybody about your situation, and eventually something will break. It has to!!!!

With love, SBHelgirl aka The Homeless Housewife

http://www.homelesshousewife.yolasite.com

The Homeless Housewife's new website is up and running.  Please take a moment to check it out!!!

Hello Marlo.  I 'm right with you on the preachers comments.  And I have to give you great big kudos and a, "Way to Go, Girl!"  If we don't stand up for what we believe in, nobody will. I find it an invaluable skill and asset and anyone with the ability to stand their ground is admirable.  As I said before, I'm not looking for a hand out.  My organization is an established non profit corporation registered in the state of California.  I am legally fundraising for my organization in order to benefit homeless women in the city of Santa Barbara, CA.  This is my personal story and it is all absolutely 100% accurate and true.  But also a fact is that I have had the non profit since 2007, before I lost the pool hall.  I just never did anything with the nonprofit before now.  Im in need, so it motivates me to improve my life, because NOBODY else will!

To the attention of:

US Senators from California: Barbara Boxer, Dianne Feinstein;
US Representatives from California: Adam B. Schiff, Anna G. Eshoo, Barbara Lee, Bob Filner, Brad Sherman, Brian P. Bilbray, Dana Rohrabacher, Daniel E. Lungren, Darrell E. Issa, David Dreier, Dennis A. Cardoza, Devin Nunes, Doris O. Matsui, Duncan Hunter, Edward R. Royce, Elton Gallegly, Fortney Pete Stark, Gary G. Miller, George Miller, Grace F. Napolitano, Henry A. Waxman, Howard L. Berman, Howard P. "Buck" McKeon, Jackie Speier, Jane Harman, Jeff Denham, Jerry Lewis, Jerry McNerney, Jim Costa, Joe Baca, John Campbell, John Garamendi, Judy Chu, Karen Bass, Ken Calvert, Kevin McCarthy, Laura Richardson, Linda T. Sanchez, Lois Capps, Loretta Sanchez, Lucille Roybal-Allard, Lynn C. Woolsey, Mary Bono Mack, Maxine Waters, Michael M. Honda, Mike Thompson, Nancy Pelosi, Sam Farr, Susan A. Davis, Tom McClintock, Wally Herger, Xavier Becerra, Zoe Lofgren;
------------------------------------

I am a homeless housewife...and here’s my story......

but, before you read, I want to say this...

Why do all of you so called nonprofit homeless outreach programs do so much research,  statistic collecting, fundraising, advocating, storytelling and promising....yet nobody follows through with actual assisting ....

I was once a successful single parent with a regular life, and a real home, a car, a job, and a happy family.  My family has been homeless for over one year now.....Yet nobody can tell by looking at us...We don’t act, dress, or smell the part. You won’t find us panhandling, or flagging signs.  You won’t catch us squatting next to the 7-11 with three open containers.  It may be due to the fact that we don’t hang out at the shelters. The ones that house 100s of the stereotypical homeless Santa Barbara locals that randomly get put on the cover of our local weekly paper, with a fat finger wedged up their fat nostrils, and a hand clutched to a 1/2 pint of $1.75 booze

In retrospect, we look for work, go to school, go to the grocery store, get gas, walk through the mall, and drive in cars....just like 98% of the population.  We walk, talk and act just like everyone else. You may have walked right past us and not even known it.  We are actors, invisible, like chameleons.  We have the tendency to blend right in, not on purpose, or to trick or fool you. Simply because that is who we are.  We hold onto every shred of our dignity and pride that we have left....because essentially that is all we have left. 

…Our dignity and an 8x12 foot storage locker that contains ethereal memories of our past.  Memories of a three bedroom, two bath structure that we once lovingly referred to as ‘home’.  Memories that tend to fade more and more each day, the longer and longer we go without a roof over our heads.  Most likely that storage locker is now double pad locked by the storage company due to nonpayment, with penalties and late fees that have accumulated into astronomical amounts overnight, with no rhyme or reason, making it nearly impossible to keep.  A storage locker that holds every last bit of our worldly possessions.  And though these belongings were once taken for granted, they now represent everything in this world that we hold dearly.  They hold reminiscences of our childhood, of our children growing up, of our marriage, of our divorce, bittersweet memories, happy times, and trying times.  But then somehow we come to a realization.  These items that remain holed up in that dark and dingy locker just don’t mean that much to us anymore.

We would rather fill our tummies, or pay for the comforts of a cheap motel room, than keep paying for that locker.  So we start to sell off these items one at a time.  First we sell the stupid old overstuffed armchair that nobody really sat on anyways, next  the kitchenware, dishes, pots & pans, and finally our heirlooms, and jewelry from Grannie that we vowed to pass on to our children’s children one day.  We garage sale our belongings, craigslist them, we even EBay and Amazon our personal possessions.  And we do this in hopes of a miracle; a simple wish that remains ungranted, a wish to go ‘Home’.

See, there are many homeless individuals like me...we will remain invisible. Not because we choose to, but for a variety of reasons.  We are the unseen.  Perhaps it is due to our pride, or ego. It could be because we haven’t shown up on television or radio shows.  You won’t find us on any Most Wanted posters, we are not red flagging ourselves, and we do everything in our power to remain under the radar.  Maybe it’s because we don’t speak up enough, or we are too timid or ashamed or frightened to speak up.  It could be because we are not belligerent drunks who, like a billboard, advertise their obnoxiousness for the entire world to view. We are not hooked on prescription pills, or booze.  We don’t self-medicate with street drugs and we do not sling dope to all of our friends.

Though we have made every effort to seek assistance, we are unsuccessful.  We apply at one, two, three...perhaps even to every single agency that advertise their services.  The only result we get is rejection, denial and...”Sorry, we can’t help you.”  “You don’t make enough money.” “You make too much money.”  “You were too late in applying.” “You need to come back again next month.”  “Well, you do have a car to sleep in, don’t you?”  “Oh, it’s July, it’s warm enough to sleep outside.”  So, essentially we get passed over by agencies and remain not helped, not assisted, but instead we get rejected by every '”homeless advocate” agency in town...

And these agencies do not offer alternative solutions for us.  Instead, they allow us to walk out their door with utter defeat and no solution to this epidemic disease we refer to as indigence.  After a while we become accustomed to their rejection, and simply start to accept the word ‘No’.   And we shuffle away with our heads a little lower, with no argument, or defiance.

We start to believe that we are unworthy of public assistance and housing programs.  We even get rejected by the shelters.  We hear, “Your child is too young to stay here. He will be influenced negatively by the older homeless men”.  Or on the other hand we hear, “Your child is too old. He will influence the younger children.” 

So, while the pot-bellied, smelly drunks get clothed, fed, and housed nightly, my family remains parked on some dark side street in 30 degree winter weather with pillows and a blanket, shivering our asses off all night. We don’t really sleep while we are parked out there in your neighborhood, because, believe it or not, we are more afraid of being seen or of getting caught breaking the law since It is illegal for people in California to sleep in their cars on streets. We lay awake worrying about being harassed by people on the streets or ticketed by police. We lay awake wondering when this nightmare will end. Where will we get our next meal, and where will we go to the bathroom next. Where will we park unnoticed at day break, and where can we sneak into for our next shower without being recognized.  We stay awake and worry about these things because in Santa Barbara the law states that if you sleep in your vehicle while parked on a public roadway or parking lot, the police can roust you. They can even nab you for vagrancy, & they will require an actual mailing address, proof of employment, and so on. 

Heaven forbid we happen to get a citation for not wearing a seatbelt.  And though we send in a written testimony in defense, it gets rejected, and we are found guilty.  Then the citation turns adds a failure-to-appear infraction and that infraction goes to warrant, simply because we did not have the means to pay for the original no-seatbelt citation. Then that warrant gets reported to the DMV, and in turn, the DMV suspends our driver’s license. Then, we really never fall asleep at night becausejust by the simple action of sitting behind the wheel of our car, we have become law breakers and criminals.  And when the police finally catch up with us, we get a real treat.  Not only do they cite us…again, but now they are mandated by law to impound our vehicle for no less than 30 days. We are left standing on the side of the road, with a bewildered look of, ‘Did that really just happen?!?” and we question the fact that it is perfectly legal for the civil servants of our community to take away our car & only shelter and what is left of our personal possessions & the rest of our dignity.. We become accustomed to that dark cloud that refuses to dissipate from above our head.

We don’t want to be noticed, so...we remain the unseen homeless...victims of circumstance, who damn well make sure we do not portrait anything but the quintessential perfect family to any unsuspecting onlooker. Because hell will freeze over before anyone discovers our dark, dirty little secret.  We have been passed over repeatedly, with not even a blink.

 But we want you to know, we are right outside your door.  And though you sit in your cozy little house with your cozy little cat, your Sunday paper, and your bunny slippers, we need you to realize that you may be next. 

They say that the only thing that’s sure is that nothing is sure.  So, take heed, and don’t take your comfort for granted because in an instant, your world can change.  One more piece of advice…..if you seek assistance from your local constituent service providers, one thing is certain.  You will remain homeless.

The Homeless Housewife   

Homelesshousewife.yolasite.com   

homelesshousewife@hotmail.com

==================

Post Open Letter to your Elected Representatives

Check out my website at http://www.homelesshousewife.yolasite.com

Hello and thank you, smt1963...I will check out the lead...I appreciate it.....also did you see my newest site...its live...and its great...go to  www.homelesshousewife.yolasite.com.....I am so proud, never made a website before...but I am on a mission..I even have a Homeless Housewife page on Facebook now.  If you go to FB, find it and 'Like' it...Please everyone spread the word...thanks, SBHelgirl

Hello Marlo and thank you for the response. How sweet of you! Though my intention is something different. I am bringing our   local homeless advocates to justice, and going to teach them a big lesson about how to run their facilities. And how to take care of needy clients, such as myself.....check out my newest website at  http://www.homelesshousewife.yolasite.com   It explains my mission a bit better.......I want to help others as I help myself...thanks for the offer.  Sbhelgirl...or now known as The Homeless Housewife

Hey!! Thank You!!! Check out my website too, at      http://www.homelesshousewife.yolasite.com

It should be up and running later today!!!  And please, spread the word...the more the merrier!!!

Today is July 3, 2011               http://www.dollardonate.yolasite.com

I am a homeless housewife...and here’s my story... (nonfiction)...but, before you read, I want to say this...

Why do all of you so called nonprofit homeless outreach programs do so much research,  statistic collecting, fundraising, advocating, storytelling and promising....yet nobody follows through with actual assisting ....

My teenager and I have been homeless for over one year now.....Yet nobody can tell by looking at us...We don’t act, dress, or smell the part. You won’t find us panhandling, or flagging signs.  You won’t catch us squatting next to the 7-11 with three open containers.  It may be due to the fact that we don’t hang out at the shelters. The ones that house 100s of the stereotypical homeless Santa Barbara locals that randomly get put on the cover of our local weekly paper, with a fat finger wedged up their fat nostrils, and a hand clutched to a 1/2 pint of $1.75 booze.

In retrospect, we look for work, go to school, go to the grocery store, get gas, walk through the mall, and drive in cars....just like 98% of the population.  We walk, talk and act just like everyone else. You may have walked right past us and not even known it.  We are actors, invisible, like chameleons.  We have the tendency to blend right in, not on purpose, or to trick or fool you. Simply because that is who we are.  We hold onto every shred of our dignity and pride that we have left....because essentially that is all we have left.  

…Our dignity and an 8x12 foot storage locker that contains ethereal memories of our past.  Memories of a three bedroom, two bath structure that we once lovingly referred to as ‘home’.  Memories that tend to fade more and more each day, the longer and longer we go without a roof over our heads.  Most likely that storage locker is now double pad locked by the storage company due to nonpayment, with penalties and late fees that have accumulated into astronomical amounts overnight, with no rhyme or reason, making it nearly impossible to keep.  A storage locker that holds every last bit of our worldly possessions.  And though these belongings were once taken for granted, they now represent everything in this world that we hold dearly.  They hold reminiscences of our childhood, of our children growing up, of our marriage, of our divorce, bittersweet memories, happy times, and trying times.  

But then somehow we come to a realization.  These items that remain holed up in that dark and dingy locker just don’t mean that much to us anymore.We would rather fill our tummies, or pay for the comforts of a cheap motel room, than keep paying for that locker.  So we start to sell off these items one at a time.  First we sell the stupid old overstuffed armchair that nobody really sat on anyways, next  the kitchenware, dishes, pots & pans, and finally our heirlooms, and jewelry from Grannie that we vowed to pass on to our children’s children one day.  We garage sale our belongings, craigslist them, we even EBay and Amazon our personal possessions.  And we do this in hopes of a miracle; a simple wish that remains ungranted, a wish to go ‘Home’.

See, there are many homeless individuals like me...we will remain invisible. Not because we choose to, but for a variety of reasons.  We are the unseen.  Perhaps it is due to our pride, or ego. It could be because we haven’t shown up on television or radio shows.  You won’t find us on any Most Wanted posters, we are not red flagging ourselves, and we do everything in our power to remain under the radar.  Maybe it’s because we don’t speak up enough, or we are too timid or ashamed or frightened to speak up.  It could be because we are not belligerent drunks who, like a billboard, advertise their obnoxiousness for the entire world to view. We are not hooked on prescription pills, or booze.  We don’t self-medicate with street drugs and we do not sling dope to all of our friends.

Though we have made every effort to seek assistance, we are unsuccessful.  We apply at one, two, three...perhaps even to every single agency that advertise their services.  The only result we get is rejection, denial and...”Sorry, we can’t help you.”  “You don’t make enough money.” “You make too much money.”  “You were too late in applying.” “You need to come back again next month.”  “Well, you do have a car to sleep in, don’t you?”  “Oh, it’s July, it’s warm enough to sleep outside.”  So, essentially we get passed over by agencies and remain not helped, not assisted, but instead we get rejected by every '”homeless advocate” agency in town...

And these agencies do not offer alternative solutions for us.  Instead, they allow us to walk out their door with utter defeat and no solution to this epidemic disease we refer to as indigence.  After a while we become accustomed to their rejection, and simply start to accept the word ‘No’.   And we shuffle away with our heads a little lower, with no argument, or defiance.

We start to believe that we are unworthy of public assistance and housing programs.  We even get rejected by the shelters.  We hear, “Your child is too young to stay here. He will be influenced negatively by the older homeless men”.  Or on the other hand we hear, “Your child is too old. He will influence the younger children.” 

So, while the pot-bellied, smelly drunks get clothed, fed, and housed nightly, my family remains parked on some dark side street in 30 degree winter weather with pillows and a blanket, shivering our asses off all night. We don’t really sleep while we are parked out there in your neighborhood, because, believe it or not, we are more afraid of being seen or of getting caught breaking the law since It is illegal for people in California to sleep in their cars on streets. 

We lay awake worrying about being harassed by people on the streets or ticketed by police. We lay awake wondering when this nightmare will end. Where will we get our next meal, and where will we go to the bathroom next. Where will we park unnoticed at day break, and where can we sneak into for our next shower without being recognized.  We stay awake and worry about these things because in Santa Barbara the law states that if you sleep in your vehicle while parked on a public roadway or parking lot, the police can roust you. They can even nab you for vagrancy, & they will require an actual mailing address, proof of employment, and so on.

Heaven forbid we happen to get a citation for not wearing a seatbelt.  And though we send in a written testimony in defense, it gets rejected, and we are found guilty.  Then the citation turns adds a failure-to-appear infraction and that infraction goes to warrant, simply because we did not have the means to pay for the original no-seatbelt citation. Then that warrant gets reported to the DMV, and in turn, the DMV suspends our driver’s license. 

At this point, we really never fall asleep at night because just by the simple action of sitting behind the wheel of our car, we have become law breakers and criminals.  And when the police finally catch up with us, we get a real treat.  Not only do they cite us…(again), but now they are mandated by law to impound our vehicle for no less than 30 days. We are left standing on the side of the road, with a bewildered look of, ‘Did that really just happen?!?” and we question the fact that it is perfectly legal for the civil servants of our community to take away our car & only shelter and what is left of our personal possessions & the rest of our dignity.. We become accustomed to that dark cloud that refuses to dissipate from above our head.

We don’t want to be noticed, so...we remain the unseen homeless...victims of circumstance, who damn well make sure we do not portrait anything but the quintessential perfect family to any unsuspecting onlooker. Because hell will freeze over before anyone discovers our dark, dirty little secret.  We have been passed over repeatedly, with not even a blink.

But we want you to know, we are right outside your door.  And though you sit in your cozy little house with your cozy little cat, your Sunday paper, and your bunny slippers, we need you to realize that you may be next.

They say that the only thing that’s sure is that nothing is sure.  So, take heed, and don’t take your comfort for granted because in an instant, your world can change.  One more piece of advice…..if you seek assistance from your local homeless service providers, one thing is certain......... You will remain homeless.

Today is July 3, 2011

I am a homeless housewife...and here’s my story... (nonfiction)...but, before you read, I want to say this...
Why do all of you so called nonprofit homeless outreach programs do so much research,  statistic collecting, fundraising, advocating, storytelling and promising....yet nobody follows through with actual assisting ....

My teenager and I have been homeless for over one year now.....Yet nobody can tell by looking at us...We don’t act, dress, or smell the part. You won’t find us panhandling, or flagging signs.  You won’t catch us squatting next to the 7-11 with three open containers.  It may be due to the fact that we don’t hang out at the shelters. The ones that house 100s of the stereotypical homeless Santa Barbara locals that randomly get put on the cover of our local weekly paper, with a fat finger wedged up their fat nostrils, and a hand clutched to a 1/2 pint of $1.75 booze.

In retrospect, we look for work, go to school, go to the grocery store, get gas, walk through the mall, and drive in cars....just like 98% of the population.  We walk, talk and act just like everyone else. You may have walked right past us and not even known it.  We are actors, invisible, like chameleons.  We have the tendency to blend right in, not on purpose, or to trick or fool you. Simply because that is who we are.  We hold onto every shred of our dignity and pride that we have left....because essentially that is all we have left.  

…Our dignity and an 8x12 foot storage locker that contains ethereal memories of our past.  Memories of a three bedroom, two bath structure that we once lovingly referred to as ‘home’.  Memories that tend to fade more and more each day, the longer and longer we go without a roof over our heads.  Most likely that storage locker is now double pad locked by the storage company due to nonpayment, with penalties and late fees that have accumulated into astronomical amounts overnight, with no rhyme or reason, making it nearly impossible to keep.  A storage locker that holds every last bit of our worldly possessions.  And though these belongings were once taken for granted, they now represent everything in this world that we hold dearly.  They hold reminiscences of our childhood, of our children growing up, of our marriage, of our divorce, bittersweet memories, happy times, and trying times.  

But then somehow we come to a realization.  These items that remain holed up in that dark and dingy locker just don’t mean that much to us anymore.We would rather fill our tummies, or pay for the comforts of a cheap motel room, than keep paying for that locker.  So we start to sell off these items one at a time.  First we sell the stupid old overstuffed armchair that nobody really sat on anyways, next  the kitchenware, dishes, pots & pans, and finally our heirlooms, and jewelry from Grannie that we vowed to pass on to our children’s children one day.  We garage sale our belongings, craigslist them, we even EBay and Amazon our personal possessions.  And we do this in hopes of a miracle; a simple wish that remains ungranted, a wish to go ‘Home’.

See, there are many homeless individuals like me...we will remain invisible. Not because we choose to, but for a variety of reasons.  We are the unseen.  Perhaps it is due to our pride, or ego. It could be because we haven’t shown up on television or radio shows.  You won’t find us on any Most Wanted posters, we are not red flagging ourselves, and we do everything in our power to remain under the radar.  Maybe it’s because we don’t speak up enough, or we are too timid or ashamed or frightened to speak up.  It could be because we are not belligerent drunks who, like a billboard, advertise their obnoxiousness for the entire world to view. We are not hooked on prescription pills, or booze.  We don’t self-medicate with street drugs and we do not sling dope to all of our friends.

Though we have made every effort to seek assistance, we are unsuccessful.  We apply at one, two, three...perhaps even to every single agency that advertise their services.  The only result we get is rejection, denial and...”Sorry, we can’t help you.”  “You don’t make enough money.” “You make too much money.”  “You were too late in applying.” “You need to come back again next month.”  “Well, you do have a car to sleep in, don’t you?”  “Oh, it’s July, it’s warm enough to sleep outside.”  So, essentially we get passed over by agencies and remain not helped, not assisted, but instead we get rejected by every '”homeless advocate” agency in town...

And these agencies do not offer alternative solutions for us.  Instead, they allow us to walk out their door with utter defeat and no solution to this epidemic disease we refer to as indigence.  After a while we become accustomed to their rejection, and simply start to accept the word ‘No’.   And we shuffle away with our heads a little lower, with no argument, or defiance.

We start to believe that we are unworthy of public assistance and housing programs.  We even get rejected by the shelters.  We hear, “Your child is too young to stay here. He will be influenced negatively by the older homeless men”.  Or on the other hand we hear, “Your child is too old. He will influence the younger children.” 

So, while the pot-bellied, smelly drunks get clothed, fed, and housed nightly, my family remains parked on some dark side street in 30 degree winter weather with pillows and a blanket, shivering our asses off all night. We don’t really sleep while we are parked out there in your neighborhood, because, believe it or not, we are more afraid of being seen or of getting caught breaking the law since It is illegal for people in California to sleep in their cars on streets. 

We lay awake worrying about being harassed by people on the streets or ticketed by police. We lay awake wondering when this nightmare will end. Where will we get our next meal, and where will we go to the bathroom next. Where will we park unnoticed at day break, and where can we sneak into for our next shower without being recognized.  We stay awake and worry about these things because in Santa Barbara the law states that if you sleep in your vehicle while parked on a public roadway or parking lot, the police can roust you. They can even nab you for vagrancy, & they will require an actual mailing address, proof of employment, and so on.

Heaven forbid we happen to get a citation for not wearing a seatbelt.  And though we send in a written testimony in defense, it gets rejected, and we are found guilty.  Then the citation turns adds a failure-to-appear infraction and that infraction goes to warrant, simply because we did not have the means to pay for the original no-seatbelt citation. Then that warrant gets reported to the DMV, and in turn, the DMV suspends our driver’s license. 

At this point, we really never fall asleep at night because just by the simple action of sitting behind the wheel of our car, we have become law breakers and criminals.  And when the police finally catch up with us, we get a real treat.  Not only do they cite us…(again), but now they are mandated by law to impound our vehicle for no less than 30 days. We are left standing on the side of the road, with a bewildered look of, ‘Did that really just happen?!?” and we question the fact that it is perfectly legal for the civil servants of our community to take away our car & only shelter and what is left of our personal possessions & the rest of our dignity.. We become accustomed to that dark cloud that refuses to dissipate from above our head.

We don’t want to be noticed, so...we remain the unseen homeless...victims of circumstance, who damn well make sure we do not portrait anything but the quintessential perfect family to any unsuspecting onlooker. Because hell will freeze over before anyone discovers our dark, dirty little secret.  We have been passed over repeatedly, with not even a blink.

But we want you to know, we are right outside your door.  And though you sit in your cozy little house with your cozy little cat, your Sunday paper, and your bunny slippers, we need you to realize that you may be next.

They say that the only thing that’s sure is that nothing is sure.  So, take heed, and don’t take your comfort for granted because in an instant, your world can change.  One more piece of advice…..if you seek assistance from your local homeless service providers, one thing is certain......... You will remain homeless.