Once, and only once, in every person's life, they are entitled to receive homeless benefits from Social Services, in the form of cash to pay for a motel room. The amount they provide is $640, which is enough for 16 nights in a room that costs $40 per night.

You can imagine what a forty dollar room, in Oakland, is like. Crackheads, prostitutes, drug dealing, folx with a slippery grip on reality.

I took the first check, and it paid for 6 nights at $50 per night, in a motel a step up from the ones on, say, West Mac. There were still lowlifes there, they were just a little less blatant.

The second $320 check would have bought 6 more nights at the same motel. The one where the ice machine cost a quarter a cup, and you had to pay 35 cents for each phone call. What the fuck ever. I packed our stuff in the van, checked out of the motel, and me & my baby headed south.

We ended up in Santa Cruz, at a motel a block and a half from the Boardwalk. It had a queen size bed, a bathtub, a little refrigerator and a microwave. Jayden jumped on the bed about a million times, trying out tricks he'd seen trampoliners do on TV. He watched more Cartoon Network than any child should see, and ate more junk than I ever thought I'd give him.

We walked to the beach on Monday, and found seashells and got knocked on our asses by incoming tides. Tuesday, we went to the Boardwalk, and rode every ride Jayden was tall enough to get on. He overdosed on cotton candy and soda, ate half my pizza, and killed a buncha ghosts on that silly ride over next to the cave train. He splashed water on me during the log ride, and expertly smashed into every single person in the space-age bumper cars ride.

We got back to Oakland Tuesday night, got a pretty lil' motel room over by Laney College, and on Wednesday we were at Traveler's Aid bright & early. We got placed in a shelter, a really good one, I think, although I don't have anything to compare it to. I went into the shelter situation with a clear, relaxed and rested mind; our escape had done me good.

I guess social services would've rather had Jayden at a crackhead motel for two weeks. Fuck 'em. We lived it up & my baby's still talking about the fun he had, so *blllpppphhhhttt* raspberries to 'em.

We've been in the shelter for a month today, and things are going well; it's difficult living under someone else's rules, and living in close quarters with other folx after being on my own for hella years; but we're adjusting, and it's a completely kid-centric place, and Jayden's still going to his awesome school, and Rooney, my van, is running great (he got new tires & brakes before our S'Cruz jaunt), and income/housing/health issues are all moving forward.

It's going good, and it'll be even greater later. Love y'all.