Being a Bum, Professionally

Having officially been homeless now for over a day, I'm starting to reflect on how good it was to have my own room, in my own apartment, with endless options for activities. Here, as I take up residence in a basement at a family friend's home, I find myself at a loss for something to do. I can feel my ass expanding as I do nothing but sit on the couch and watch MTV.

It also doesn't help I seem to have acquired a headache that I can't seem to shake, despite my overloading on ibuprofen. What worries me isn't so much the headache from hell as that I got it at Hershey Park (or as I like to call it, Fat Girl Heaven) from riding rides. In my head, my still young body could handle the more advanced rides, but physically, my twenty-something body revolted.


(The entrance to Fat Girl Heaven)

The best part of going to the park was that there happened to be no one there but school groups (who were gone by 4PM), meaning Cartmanland came to life. All the rides, no wait. Who wouldn't take advantage of this? You could stay on and ride as many rides as many times as you want. And, you know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Felts and I enjoyed this freedom for all of about two hours, until Hershey Park went from being a fun day in the sun to an extreme endurance challenge. Heads pounding, clothing soaked with sweat, bodies overheating from the direct sunlight our general paleness was unused to, each step became excruciating. Felts wrestled with her own queasiness as I fought down my motion sickness.



We eventually caved in to going on the plunge water ride that would leave you completely soaked. As we entered the queue, the overwhelming aroma of feet, sweat, and dirty water took over us. There was no safe way to face. Breathing became labored. Adding to this stench, I removed my own shoes (Felts was just ecstatic as I later shoved these into her hands to place on the other side of the ride). It would all be worth it, I kept telling myself. The freezing water would revive us and we wouldn't be playing the game of "don't pass out" survivor.

Just as predicted, the freezing downpour we got at the bottom was enough to bring us both back from the edge on this sticky, sunny day. Having the park to ourselves was amazing--never before have I been able to walk up to rides, but also have the choice of which seat I wanted. The abuse of this power ultimately led to my downfall (massive migraine). I think my brain might actually be bleeding at this point.

And so we wandered, like two castaways in Lost, hair drenched and tousled, backpack on, and sunburnt.

At 8, the park closed, Felts and I hit the road, and a sense of accomplishment washed over me. It had been my last day living in State College and we really celebrated hard (if like children). The shower I took when I got home was the best feeling in the world, I could taste the salt washing off of me.

The next morning, I got up at 5:30 and drove to York, where I presently reside. Week one of homelessness. I don't know how I'm going to survive. Arizona looms on the horizon and every day I feel a little less prepared. This transition is taking too long!