Dunkin' Donuts and everything else that's wrong with this country

So the girls went to Tucson this weekend. Before they left, they wanted to make a quick pitstop at Dunkin' Donuts to get some coffee for the road. I decided to tag along before they left. Instead of getting some coffee, I was too tempted by the wall decal, so I opted for Dunkin's so delicious-looking Frozen Hot Chocolate. Note to the wise: Their Frozen Hot Chocolate is NOT the same price as their regular Hot Chocolate. Quite the contrary, it was double the price... just because it was cold, instead of hot. Those crooks. 

This should have been sign #1 that all was not right with the world. But then came sign #2... after the jump. 

As we were sitting at our table in Dunkin' Donuts enjoying out vastly-overrated coffee (and in my case vastly-overpriced hot, but really cold, chocolate) and donuts, I eyed the rows of untouched donuts on the shelves. There were the chocolate glazed, the plain, and the perplexing "munchkins."Every row was still full. Untouched. Then I glanced around the restaurant. 

Empty.

We were the only customers in the restaurant and it was almost 1 p.m. Long past the hour of breakfast. It was obvious — nobody is eating those donuts today.

But maybe we could...

Now, JVC has always encouraged us to ask for handouts. They've encouraged us to hit up Starbucks, Einstein Bros., etc for their end-of-the-day stashes. “Never be afraid of asking for help, because you’ll be surprised who will say yes."

With 48 days left in the program, I thought it was a good time to start.

I got up from my chair and approached the clerk with her headset. She was waiting for somebody, anybody to pull through the drive thru so she could remotely take their order.

“Hey, I have a really random question for you,” I prepped. "What do you do with all the leftovers at the end of the day?”

“We bag them up and throw them away,” she said. It was obvious this wasn't the first time she'd been asked this question.

What a waste.

I told her the JVC sob story about how we’re volunteers, broke, hungry, and live only a couple blocks down the street. "If we came to pick them up at the end of the day, would you give us the leftovers?"

“No,” she said bluntly.

“How come?” I pressed.

“We can’t give them out to anybody. When I first started working here, we gave the food out to homeless shelters.”

Even better, I thought. If we can’t have them, at least it’s going to people in need.

She continued with her story. “But we had to stop doing that because if somebody ate the donuts and got sick, they could sue us.”

Homeless people suing from getting food handouts. God Bless America.

Writer Renewed

The confession of a writer:

I had no desire to write.

Anything.

At all. 

Period.

I didn't want to put pen to paper, I didn't want put words to computer. I didn't even want to input case notes into HMIS as part of my job.

None of it. That bad.

I'm not sure if I'll be able to explain why it happened. It had nothing to do with writer's block. It may have had everything to do with Phoenix and how frustrated I am with being here at this point. It may have had everything to do with my fear of what words would actually come out once I did start writing.

I'm not sure why it happened. All I know is that it happened. And that for the first time in my life, I hated words.

Then two things happened:

1. My brother told me to write.

2. I read an incredible NY Times story that blew my mind.

And then it happened, I wanted to write. It was like a spark went off in my mind and body and I couldn't get the words out fast enough.

I immediately pulled out my computer and typed up something short, which I'm about to post. And I've also got a #19 bus piece in the works that is very "a lá Advanced Comm Bus #22." Although, I'll admit, the #19 Phoenix bus is a hell of a lot freakier than San Jose's #22, which will make it a far better read.

For now, I have two things to say:

1. Troy, thanks. Thanks for reminding me. I guess I listen to you... sometimes.

2. The NY Times story that made my fingers ache for a pen or keyboard -- Hit and Run. 

Please read it. I'm not expecting it to have the same profound impact on you as it had upon me. But I bet you'll still find it a good read. I think it was the lead(/lede depending on my audience) that did it for me. So beautiful... And the skipping rocks comparison. But seriously, I'll stop talking about it so you can read it.

Anyways, I'm back. And I'm ready to write.

Moving Life Forward

Too much water in the desert

Okay, folks. For those of you keeping score, I realize that it's been 2 months since a post. But I can easily update you in ten seconds or less (way less, actually). Ready? Here goes. Kay...
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Flood.
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There ya go. Updated.

If you'd like more than the abridged version of the story, read on (or do a toddler read through of the rest of this post by only looking at the pictures, which are gnarly). But honestly, you don't have to. "Flood" is really all you need to know.

But for the unabridged version, we must rewind to... oh... December. Right around when I wrote that last post. I went home for a wonderful Christmas with the family and spent some time in a climate that actually experiences winter. I also spent my first ever New Year's with Ryan (three years in the making).

As I was prepping my belongings and myself to board a flight back to Phoenix, I got a panicked phone call from my roommate Krystle. I kid you not, her exact words were, "it's raining from the ceiling."

I had known that Phoenix had gotten some bad weather over New Years, so I figured it was raining and there was a leak in the roof.

Oh no.

Phoenix had gotten some REALLY bad weather and abnormal cold (remember how I just said I went home to a location that actually experiences winter? Apparently Phoenix does too in freak apocalyptic storms), which actually froze and burst our pipes. And because nobody was home over New Year's weekend, they had been spewing water without stopping for several days.

After inspecting the house and proclaiming that the water damage to it would make it "unlivable,"our landlord told us we had to be out immediately and no, we couldn't come back.

And this, my friends, is what the house looked like.

Ironic, right? Half of our household works with homeless populations. And here we were. Homeless.

Bummer.

The following week was probably one of the longest and most difficult weeks I've ever experienced. It was filled with a lot of stress and a lot of questions. And while I'll never publish this thought in a JVC magazine or newsletter (in yo' face!), I'm sure several of these questions are ones my own clients think through before they ever come knocking on our door for services.

"Where were we going to live?"

"How much money do we have right now?"

"Do we have any friends who could take us in?"

Of course, our situation had an additional question of, "Was it our fault the pipes burst?"

... But that's a different story.

We didn't hear much from JVC, other than a phone call from our Program Coordinator saying she was really busy, but would help how she could. She said it would take us less than a month to find a new place (and we were foolish enough to believe her). She also reminded us she was really busy. And would be sending us a care package — with ponchos, mind you, as insensitive as that is — but was really busy, so she didn't know when she would be able to send it. Oh. And she was really busy (JVC, hope you're reading this. Leave me comments of hatred if you are).

Luckily, we were fortunate enough to be offered a week's worth of temporary housing through the local parish. They had a retreat center — previously Jesuit housing for the parish priests. In other words, it rocked.

There were 4 bedrooms, 4 beds and 5 housemates. As the charitable heart that I am, I volunteered to take the couch, not realizing that we were going to be there more than a couple of nights. Although I wasn't thrilled with the sleeping arrangements, the Jesuit house itself was incredible. Along with its many bedrooms, it had enough bathrooms that I lost count and it had a huge kitchen, which was also very practically stocked with absolutely no pots and pans. So we spent the first few nights of our homelessness eating out. We ate better meals as homeless JVs than we did as stably-housed JVs.

A week went by at the Jesuit center and we knew we were wearing out our welcome. CASS, my employer, is the placement in charge of finding housing for the JVs. Conveniently, CASS had just purchased an apartment complex that it is slowing fixing up in order to permanently house families who are leaving our family shelter. Basically, successful families who have found jobs and saved their money at our shelter can move into this apartment complex and sign a yearly lease. The apartments are designed to be a continuation of our shelter program. They can still meet with a case manager if they choose; there's an after school program; and when the complex is complete, it's going to have new playgrounds and a family center added to it.

When it's all done come December-ish (you know how construction goes...), the place is going to be gorgeous. Right now, it's not much to look at. Many of the apartments are in poor condition (read: a dump), but we were very lucky to get two apartments that are in pretty good shape.

These two apartments were to serve as our TEMPORARY housing solution, so we would have a place to stay while the administrators and JVC worked to find us a permanent home.

We have one apartment that is one bedroom and one apartment that is two bedrooms. The boys took the one bedroom apartment and converted the living room into Eddie's personal Mancave. The girls took the two bedroom, and I suddenly have a roommate again. Word.

With our new digs, it was time to get rid of a lot of our old digs (read: crap that was in the old house).

The house that was Formerly Casa Truth had been a JV house since the early 1990s. As a result, roughly 20 years of crap had piled up in the cupboards and closets. We had done a good job of ignoring it while we were living there, but our landlord was now threatening to not pay back our January rent and to continue to charge us for each and every day ANY of our stuff (Read: Previous JV's junk that got left behind when they moved out) was left in the house.

So we got a 40 foot dumpster... and filled it to the brim.

Now, I'll tell you what. There was a lot of sh*t in that house. I'm not going to even try to sugarcoat it with flowery language. It was just baaaaaad. And I don't think any one of us in Former Casa Truth was looking forward to the task that fell solely on us (seriously, nobody came to help) of having to go through it all. But we made a pact with one another. If we couldn't justifiably explain to another housemate within 3 seconds why the object should be kept, it would be tossed. Soon, the pact fell to one second or less. Then, the pact fell to "oh hell, just throw it away now."

There you go, JVC. Living simply. Former Casa Truth single-handedly put a hole in the Ozone by the amount of crap we sent to the landfill that day.

But the sound of shattering glass on the inside of that dumpster was glorious.

In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm a little bitter towards JVC. Mind you, I love my job, I love my clients, I love my housemates. I'm only bitter (read: disgruntled, read: very perturbed, read: F'ing pissed) with the JVC Southwest staff, because we received very little support from them — especially in the first couple of days we were homeless. It's no secret that this whole situation has not been handled very well. And despite attempts to correct the situation's handling in more recent days, it still has not been handled very well. There's been a lack of communication, a lack of organization, and a lack of... help.

That's the simple way to phrase it. As I was describing to one of my housemates yesterday, I went into this year with so many hopes and goals for myself. Yet, six months into my JVC year, the only word I can use to describe my JVC experience thus far is "jaded." And it's not because I hate my placement, the people I'm serving, or my housemates. It's because JVC staff have left me feeling like I'm disposable and ultimately not as important as their next year of recruits — or the $500+ these recruits can bring in to the JVC organization through Send Me to Serve fundraising.

I'm doing my best to not turn this blog post into an Anti-JVC rant, but I have a lot of pent-up frustration, so if I slip every once in a while, just go with it.

Anywho, the sacred action of throwing away many of these symbolic JVC objects from our JVC house, released more frustration than we could have ever dreamed of. What we thought would be an all-day event of cleaning the house out, only took several hours because that's how long it took us to load up an arm-full of crap, walk to the dumpster, hurl it in (and listen to the satisfying sound of all of these objects shatter into thousands of pieces), and walk back inside to repeat the process. Unfortunately, Greg and I "accidentally" lost our JVC cross necklaces in the threshold of said dumpster and they are now lost forever. Too bad.

We spent one more evening at our incredibly swank (that's a word, yes?) former Jesuit retreat center. And then we moved into our new temporary apartment, with the help of 2 incredible gracious workers from Catholic Charities, who were the only people to help us at all in the moving process. The new apartments aren't bad. We have a small bug problem... er... a problem with small bugs.

We also soon found that we had probably gotten a little too carried away with the objects we had disposed of in the dumpster. We found ourselves scrambling to the CASS donation sheds, searching for plates, bowls and other dishes. We also realized we had no cleaning supplies or even any trash cans. Quick! "To the cloud!" I mean, to the dollar store! (Sorry, poor attempt at a pop culture reference)

And after one week of living in the apartments, mysterious puddles started covering the floor in the kitchen and bathroom of the boys' apartment.

No, I'm not kidding.

Yes, the flood had followed us.

A pipe in the wall of the boys' apartment was leaking. The maintenance man remedied the leak after a couple days, but the boys were without a bathroom wall for several more weeks. Ironically enough (and I mean really "ironic," not the Alanis Morissette definition of "ironic"), the air conditioner in the girls' apartment also started leaking in the bathroom and created a mini flood. However, this was quickly fixed and not at all traumatizing.

Yet, the message seems clear. Anybody who may potentially be housing with one of the Casa Truth refugees now or in the future puts their home at risk; it does in fact seem like there is a Curse of the Flood, which is still following all 5 of us.

After moving into the apartments, we did settle back into a routine. Dinners started to be cooked again, instead of purchased at the fine dining locations of Taco Bell or Pizza Hut. We went to our JVC ReOrientation without much incident, although Casa Truth did try to gain as much sympathy from the other JVs as possible. Interestingly enough, that didn't prove to hard, as numerous houses have had their own issues themselves, and have similar (lack of) support from JVC staff.

Nonetheless, because we had found a location to live — at least temporarily — the stress and anxiety seemed to diminish ten-fold. We were living comfortably and that was enough, at least for now.

However, the greatest thing about our new, temporary apartments is that me and Becky have a much shorter commute to work. Instead of waking up at 6 a.m. and walking one-mile to the bus, riding for 40 minutes, and then walking another 1/2 mile, we now only have to walk about 5 minutes. Total. It rocks. I also seem to be gaining some weight, hmm...

All in all, there really haven't been any huge problems with the apartments. At the offset, we were worried that our "temporary" housing situation would soon turn into our "permanent" housing solution; we feared that with the way the situation had been handled thus far, JVC and the administrators would be satisfied enough with finding us this place to stay and may ultimately forget about us. Or if we weren't forgotten about, we feared the search for a new place would drag on for several more months; as a result, a new house would be set up for next year's incoming JVs, but as this year's JVs, we would never actually have any time in it. We pleaded with JVC to set a deadline for when we would be moved into New Casa Truth.

In the end, our talks at the end of January secured a March 1 deadline.

Yet, we found that all of us were comfortable in the apartments, and not surprisingly, we found ourselves approaching the March 1 deadline without a house (Oh look! It's Feb. 27 and we don't have one yet!). Because we were so comfortable in these apartments, we suggested to JVC and the administrators that we would be perfectly fine staying in our present living accommodations past March 1, providing more time to find a suitable house, instead of one that would be rushed into too quickly.

Unfortunately, there were new pressures adding to the situation.

When we first moved into the apartment complex, the vacant apartments could not be filled. At all. As case managers, neither me, Mike or Stephanie could convince any of our eligible families to apply. However, since January, we have gotten 4 new families into the apartments. With the trend set, now our clients are lined up at the door and we cannot submit applications fast enough. The apartment complex now has a wait list and, because they need the two apartments we're occupying, they want the JVs out as quickly as possible. Mind you, this makes perfect sense. None of us as JVs want to take away housing from families who need it more than we do.

The only problem is, we don't know where we're going to go.

Alas, it seems we will have to know by March 5, the day the apartment complex has extended us through. And, as my boss Billie said the other day, "we need to stay as close to that date as possible."

In other words, after March 5, we're screwed.

There have been several different possibilities that have been pursued by various different administrators. A former JV owned a house that was conveniently in need of a renter. But, the house also had a pool, which immediately sent up red flags against JVC's tenant of "Simple Living." The debate over the pool led to a bunch of confusion and miscommunication about the house being usable for our purposes. Several weeks later, when JVC (yep, I'm blaming you for this one again) finally told us that it was acceptable to have a pool, the house was no longer available. Everybody started scrambling to find rental possibilities again, but none of them seemed too promising.

A glimmer of hope arrived when the former JV who owned the other house decided he might be interested in purchasing another house to fit this year's and future JV's lifestyle.

We all saw the photos of said house and all of us began drooling.

Alas, it was not meant to be either. This past Tuesday, when he went to sign the final papers, he met the seller, who conveniently told him that he had decided to go with a different bidder.

And...

We were back to square one again.

Which is how it always seemed to go. Each time any housing possibility falls through, we are once again back to square one, without a back up plan. When we found about about that house falling through, it was February 22, one week before we are scheduled to be out of these apartments, and we were in no better of a situation then we were in the first week in January.

On the brink of being homeless.

The good news is we now have a realtor working on looking up listings and setting up showings. Keep in mind, Casa Truth contacted Mike the realtor, a former program support person, the first week of January. He immediately sent us listings, which we forwarded to the JVC staff and the administrators. We also passed along his email address a couple of times to multiple people. He was never contacted by any of these people. At all.

Until this past Tuesday. And in a matter of a couple of hours, he had found 9 more potential listings and set up 3 showings for later in the week.

Meanwhile, the JVC staff members can continue to feel good about themselves because they set up pointless and time-wasting conference calls (Oh shoot, anti-JVC rant has resurfaced!), including one in which JVC staff were the only participants not to show up. Oh, and both our program coordinator and program director will be in town next week to help us move into our (as of now) non-existent home.

But you know what they say, that's just water under the bridge.

Things I'm thankful for, an evening with Kim Jong Il

Oh herrrrrrrrow there!

I'm fairly certain this is the first JV blog to ever start with a photo of Kim Jong Il (albeit in puppet form, but still). And if it isn't the first JV blog to start this way, I'll be shocked and a little scared, but will nonetheless retract my claim at trying to do something original. But don't worry, Kim Jong Il means no harm, but only wants to welcome you back to my blog, after a month missing from action (again). He, and Alec Baldwin, would like to warmly welcome you back.



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Thanks, Kim.

It's hard to imagine after an introduction from Kim, that I would actually have something serious I wanted to say. But alas, this is truly the case. And it's not because I'm having an emotional PMS episode or even because I'm making a sloppy drunk "I love you" proclamation. I promise everything after this line is a sincere reflection of my truest (sober) heart.

In JVC, we live without objects which many people take for granted on a daily basis. Soda. Clothes. Cars. Money. A bed that doesn't cause my joints to stiffen in the night. Cable TV (although we have recovered NBC, thank the lord).

Sure, it gets frustrating sometimes, especially when you attempt to Christmas shop on a budget and the cashier at Michael's rings you up at $102 in one pop -- which is, to be sure, exactly 102 percent of our monthly budget. You wish you could have some of the finer things back. But at the end of the day, none of that superficial stuff matters much. You find a way to make do. You opt for handmade gifts instead of new DVDs or BluRays.

Basically, I've learned to fill the void. But there's one void that will never be filled. What I've come to realize is that I don't really miss most of the stuff we don't have access to. Clothes: too much too wash. Cars: expensive. Cable TV: overrated. A bed and money-- okay, I really miss these things; I'll be honest.

But what I really miss are the people. I've come to realize that I've been incredibly lucky in my life to be surrounded with the world's most incredible and caring people. I've had a family that put my education above everything else. I've had friends who have been there at the drop of the hat.

With Thanksgiving already past, I realize that I'm about a month late with this list. But I would like to take a chance to thank those in my life who have always been there for me and who mean the world to me. It's about damn time that I told ya.

In no particular order:

1. Parents
First and foremost, I am so thankful for my parents. Over the last few weeks, I've seen many great and many not-so-great parents walk in and out of my office. What I've noticed is that the best parents are the ones who actually (*surprise*) pay attention to their children and put their children's needs above their own. They're the ones who walk into my office with holes in their jackets, but then I look down and see that the kids are running around in a new pair of sneakers. Those are my parents. I've never received flowers or candy at work from a boy... but I can now say that I've gotten them from my mom. And I'm not embarrassed at all to admit it. It was enough for me to know that my mom was thinking about me and excited for me to come home (probably almost as much as I am excited to come home). It's nice to know that when I call crying at 10 p.m. (true story), I can always have somebody on the other end tell me, "It'll be better tomorrow."
2. Ryan
I'm going to take a page out of Chick Flick romance and thank Ryan, simply for putting up with all my crap each and every day. I know he gets the brunt of my frustration, but no matter how many times I push him away, he never seems to budge. When I've given up on work, Phoenix or, god forbid, on us -- somehow he's already standing in the ring waiting for the next round. I've found someone that understands the way my mind works better than I can understand it myself -- sometimes to my great frustration and even greater jealousy. I'm so lucky to have found someone who I know isn't going anywhere. I've learned from my clients that love and family isn't easy and there are many, many kinds of "bad" relationships. And I count myself lucky to be in one that I know is a "good" relationship. I know I've found someone who won't walk out when it gets difficult and I'm glad that I'm along for the ride.
3. Heyyyyy brother
My brother -- for actually understanding the words that are coming out of my mouth, when everybody else looks at me and wonders, "Huh?" I know this is going to sound strange, but Troy reminds me to have fun and to not bother caring what other people think along the way. I don't know anybody who is a truer version of himself than my brother. I can still remember him dressing me up in a Star Trek uniform when I was 3-years-old and plopping me down on a chair while he directed me on the family video camera, shaking the camera to make it look as if we were under attack and I was falling out of the captain's chair, as the ship fell apart around us. My brother is who he is and everybody else be damned if they don't like it. Thanks for being my role model and teaching me to be myself -- and for turning me into a mini boy with estrogen.
4. IDK, my BFF Becky?
I feel as if I don't even have to write anything in this space because she probably knows exactly what I'm thinking and would be able to write it ten times better than I ever could. I love you, Chewy. You and that fake brain tumor you got rolling around in there.
5. TSC.
That's right, Aly-saw, Kav, Rati, Sam, Kurtis, Woody, Ian, Pinky (and maybe even Erkel... a little). I've never had a group of friends that I considered to be a family, until I randomly got paired with you guys in the hell hole that was that newspaper room. It's true -- we've got issues. Thanks to Facebook, I stumbled upon some of the pictures from the newspaper conference and from our many TSC party adventures. I nearly keeled over laughing, not so much from the photos themselves, but from the novel-length discussions we had in the comments below them. I realized just how lucky I was to have been able to spend and an entire school year with ya. We spent so many long hours together and I wouldn't trade any one of them in for anything. I love you guys and miss you so much. I will gladly host a TSC(4?) party at my house. Kurt, you're 21 now. Time for you to taste alcohol.
6. To my Franktown Family, Mrs. White, Mrs. Lawrence... and I'm also going to include the Suhr family among those ranks.
Thank you for taking care of me even when I'm not at home. I cannot begin to describe how much it means to me when I open up my mail and see a cute little card or an epic care package that has been artfully decorated by a 5-year-old. Thanks for bringing a little bit of home to Phoenix. And Mrs. Lawrence, thanks for giving me a home here in Phoenix -- for hosting dinner, and for sending me home with the greatest Christmas goodies known to stomachs everywhere. I've hung each and every card or note I've received over my bed -- each is a constant reminder that I am surrounded with the best friends and family imaginable.
7. Benj and Gwen.
Thanks for not thinking I'm crazy for wanting to move to Arizona. I get so excited every time I see a card in the mail with your handwriting. And the care package you sent was enough to make all of my housemates want to thank you as well. At this point, I think all my housemates would call you their favorite aunts. I love receiving your cards; they too are hanging above my bed. I just cannot believe how lucky I am.
8. Casa Truth and Casa Bart.
I'm not going to write anything here. Fill it in yourselves, you jerks (who I love).
9. My clients.
Over the last few months, I've been exposed to people from all walks of life, some of them whom I understand, others who will continue to confuse me until the day I leave. I'm so grateful for each and every person who has walked into my office. And I can honestly say that I've learned something from each and every one of them. Talking to Ryan on the phone last night, I realized that they have opened my eyes to so many different realities -- many of which I would have considered weird or crazy in the past. But now just seem normal. To my clients, that's for making crazy the new normal and for continuing to have hope.
10. To everybody else who has supported me over the last few weeks, both back at home in Colorado and California, as well as here in Phoenix.
I've come to realize that despite being without many things this year, I have one thing that most of my clients do not have. It isn't anything tangible -- it isn't a house; it isn't a job. Instead it's the undying love of a strong support system. When my clients enter the shelter, they all share one thing in common: they have nowhere else to go. They come to our doorstep because they have no other support — often because friends and family simply turned their backs when they needed them the most. It’s when homeless families tell me these heartbreaking stories that I become grateful for what I have: 4 great housemates who give me strength when I’m feeling most depressed; and loving family and friends who I know would never desert me when I most needed them.While they are simple sentiments, when I receive those quick notes, cards, care packages or phone calls from a friend of family member, it's enough to remind me that the greatest gift we have is each other. And I am blessed to know each and every one of you.

Thank you for everything.

Business as usual

Yes, I realize how long it's been since my last post. No, I'm not convinced anybody is still reading this. And I'd like to stay a lot has happened since then -- and in many ways, there has been a lot. In other ways, well, not so much.

In the past few weeks, my parents have come to visit and we had a stellar outing at a wonderful place called TexAZ. And yes, it is exactly how it sounds. I've taken a brief retreat to San Jose/Santa Clara and pretended to be a normal person for a weekend. I've taken (with all of Phoenix JVs) a roadtrip to San Diego to pretend to be Greg for a Halloween... which... didn't turn out so well.

In many ways, we've pretty much gotten into a Phoenix groove these days. At work, I am holding a 100% case load -- meaning I have at least 10 families who are my clients specifically. Sometimes I have more than 10, which makes days REALLY interesting and REALLY busy. A major highlight was being able to get my first family into a transitional housing program. Basically, they were my first "real success story." And the day they moved into their new apartment, they stopped by in my office to thank me for the work I did for them. The day before that, another family moved into their own new apartment. While she wasn't my client specifically, she came in to thank all of the case managers. She was crying... which of course made all of the rest of cry. Those two families were a great reminder of why I signed on for the year.

Other than that, it's been business as usual.

What EXACTLY is "business as usual?" you might ask

Good question! I'm glad you asked.

There was a pretty great article published in The Arizona Republic last week about Central Arizona Shelter Service (CASS) -- aka our company. The article mostly focuses on the 5th anniversary of the Human Service Campus, which is where the downtown CASS shelter is located for single men and women. Vista Colina is not a part of that campus. We're located much further north, but we are still run under the umbrella of CASS. The "Suddenly Homeless" section is about the Vista Colina shelter. It outlines the story of Adrienne Mones, one of our clients.

And I'm going to FORCE you to read it now. No, seriously. Read it now. The rest of this blog post will not make sense unless you read the news story. As many Santa Clara professors would say, just to make sure you've done the reading, I'm going to give you a quiz afterward.

Okay, not really. But I repeat, YOU HAVE to read the article.

Crowded Maricopa County shelter a last refuge for homeless -- Arizona Republic, Nov. 5, 2010

YOU CANNOT READ THE REST OF THIS BLOG UNTIL YOU READ THE NEWS ARTICLE!!!

Really, I'm not lying.

Are you reading it yet?!?!

Just for good measure, I'm posting the article link again:

Crowded Maricopa County shelter a last refuge for homeless

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Okay, I warned you. If you didn't read the article, you're ruining the ending -- and if you didn't read the article after all those multiple warnings, I'm assuming that you're one of those people who reads the last chapter of a book before the first. And let's face it, if you're one of those people, there just isn't any hope for you.

I'm giving you one last chance. Read the article. It's now or never.

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*

Alright. Since you've read the article, I'm going to go ahead and add to the story.

So remember Adrienne? The article mentions that she's working at a massage therapist; saving her money; and working towards paying off a hefty sum of traffic fines for driving without a license. It also mentioned that she is working towards getting a valid license. What the artice doesn't mention is that Adrienne, who was unable to drive and didn't have a car, was getting a ride to work from her boyfriend, who DID had a car.

Through a freak string of events, he lost that car earlier this week.

As a result, both Adrienne and her boyfriend came into my office upset on Tuesday morning because they did not know how either one of them would be able to keep getting to work. I gave them a bus pass that was good for the day, but it obviously wouldn't sustain them. They left my office a little brightened because they had found a temporary solution, but they were still disheartened because they didn't know what would happen in the long rung -- especially because they were able to get jobs and get back on their feet already.

Then fate stepped in.

Turns out a business woman was also having car issues Monday, although of a different nature. Her Toyota was making a funny sound while it ran, so she took it in to the dealer. In typical repairman fashion, he told her the part that was causing the loud racket was not the only part that needed to be replaced; other parts had to be taken care of as well. The dealer gave her an estimate of $1500 in order to fix the problem. He also told her that the funny sound wasn't an indication that there was something majorly wrong with the car. It still ran well. However, like all salesmen, he was somehow able to persuade her into buying an entirely new car because they were having "such a great sale." So she traded in her old car for a $1500 credit on her new Prius.

Maybe it was buyer's remorse -- or maybe it was something else-- but she tossed and turned all night long.

She decided that her $1500 could have gone to much better use.

She had done some volunteering at homeless shelters before in the past. And she also remembered reading a story in the newspaper last week about a homeless mom who didn't have any transportation because of a suspended license.

She returned to the car dealership, picked up her old car and added $1500 to her car bill. Then, she dug up the article, Adrienne's name, and called the shelter.

2 hours later, the car was sitting in the parking lot outside the shelter, and the keys were being placed in Adrienne's hands.

Now Adrienne, who is still working and has applied for a transitional housing program and is just waiting to hear back, has a car ready and waiting for her. She's still paying off the last of her fines and it's given her even greater motivation to get her driver's license validated.

Sitting on the bottom step just inside the front desk of the shelter, Adrienne told us today how she felt about the car.

"A few days ago, I wrote down on a piece of paper that I wanted a 4-door car that ran well for me and my kids. Now it's sitting outside my window," she said. "I'm so grateful for everything. If I wouldn't have come here, none of this would have ever happened."

And THAT is business as usual.

I can see clearly now

The only real headline breaking news (no, for reals) in the last few days has been the crazy storms that hit Phoenix last week. Really, SB1070 hasn't been mentioned once, but this storm has made national headlines.

While I could try to describe it, it's probably just better if I let the pictures speak for themselves. Don't worry, nobody was hurt and (knock on wood), neither was the structural integrity of Casa Truth. But the storms did cause some major power outages, accidents, and  transportation problems. The storms, conveniently, hit the Phoenix area about 5 p.m., just as everybody was getting off from work and making their way home. Casa Bart's Ga-Ga-Gosney got caught riding her bike in the middle of the hail and Katie got stuck waiting for a bus for 2 hours in the rain. The good news is that me and Becky did NOT get caught up for 2 hours after work. Only 30 minutes after missing the bus without a jacket or umbrella, which was still more than enough for me. Anyways, here's the documentation. (** Notice: I stole most of these photos from housemates. I take no credit for them... except for the prettiest ones.)

1. The Pregame Before The Storm: The previous day's rainstorm before THE Rainstorm.

The light rail stop (My photo)

The rainbow that was way too damn happy 

and should have been a clue that the next day was gonna suck (My photo)

2. What our house normally looks like (okay... maybe not what it should look like, but BACK OFF!)

The back porch (Photo by Krystle)

3. The aftermath

The street and what used to be our front yard (Photo by Greg)

Also the reason why Greg could not get his car down the driveway

The sludge of our backyard (Photo by Greg)

Our addition of an outdoor pool (Photo by Greg)

Arizona's snow at work (My photo)

The hail broke several lights at the shelter

So there it is. Can't say that I have anything else that is worthy of reporting -- unless you consider a father who wants to pay for his firearms instead of paying for an apartment for his daughters as "worthy of reporting." Or a husband who is leaving his pregnant wife and two kids "worthy of reporting." I'd have to say that I don't. Call me crazy.

Oh, and I've gotten 3 pretty kickass care packages. Thanks Mom, Troy and Edie!