Parking the Beast

I met a guy named Anthony at a festival back in April and we get to chatting on the dance floor. After he learned my name he was very eager to tell me about his ex-girlfriend named Masha also…”Masha Trivian”, sever times. I politely smiled and nodded and carried on to other dancers. But he kept on returning and asking little questions here and there, “Who do you know here, where are you from, where do you live now?” So I threw it out there….”I live in an RV, soooo I live, everywhere, anywhere I want.” This is always a fun thing to say to guys. They seem to love it, because it A. shows that I am an adventurous fun girl and B. I don’t like commitment, so they’re not afraid of me becoming a stage 5 clinger. Because, shit, I can’t even commit to an address, let alone a man! So after I told him this, he asked me where I park it. Anywhere really…why? Turns out he has a backyard/driveway/lawn and if I wanted to take him up on this offer, I could pay a little bit of rent and park and live. At first I was hesitant, because he wanted at least 3 months and even that was too much of a commitment for me. So I backed off and gypsied about town for a while longer. But then I got tired. The cost of gas is crazy, and not being able to plug in my refrigerator, is beginning to get costly as well. Going out all the time is also not good for the waste line.

            So I took Anthony up on his offer. I would have a nice fenced in place to park, a laundry room, electricity, water and WIFI. Gatita has a big area to roam in and if I REALLY need to take a shower in the house, some days I could. I have a gym at work and a shower there, as well as the yoga studio. So if I want a shower I have to workout. Which is doing WONDERS for my waist line J

            While at Anthony’s my adventures have home to a halt unfortunately, as my only adventure now, is my weekly visit to the RV dump. And even that is challenging sometimes, since my battery dies all the from under use. Sadly my time has been filled with tedious stuff like work, and looking for more and better work and car repairs, that traveling had to be put on the back burner. I have come use my free time for decorating and beautifying the interior of my little toaster. I’ve painted the ceiling and made a mirror mosaic. I have put a lot of effort into making it as cozy as possible and I must say, it’s come along nicely. I even have an outside bathtub that could potentially be more than just a decorative piece. I’ve always wanted an outside bathtub….ah, a girl can dream. 

Mini Melt Down

Now that I had a car, and could move around easier, I figured RV living would now become a piece of cake. I would park my RV here and there, preferably by the beach, but sometimes near the city, wherever was convenient. Then I’d drive my car around to drive errands, then come back and park as close as I could to my mobile home. I had a few run-ins with the law around this time. Apparently it’s illegal to sleep in city streets. Who knew? I see thousands of RVs parked on streets all the time, many of them in the same spots, or just around the corner. They can’t all be waiting to go camping for the weekend. I probably made the mistake of leaving my curtains open, for all to see my bed. Plus I have this mangy cat that has made herself a kitty door, out the crack in the window. Who also likes to chase birds, which causes the birds to crow, and then the neighbor dog sees all this excitement and starts to bark, and then the other dog joins in, and then another. And then the neighbor lady calls the cops and blames the commotion on the dirty hippy van parked in front of her house. I’ve gotten a nice cop knock on my door at 6am and tell me to pull around the corner. I got a not so nice cop do the same thing, in harsher words. I also got a note on my door, telling me this was my first and only warning and next time I would be cited or towed. So I got nervous and moved back to the beach, because I never had any trouble there.

            I was still working 2 jobs and hating Sammy’s and they hated me and I had no time to myself and blah! I sort of had a little mini melt down. One of several. I came home, tired, hungry to my kitten, always cheerful and loving to see me. The juice was starting to run out of my battery and my lights were dimming. I have candles, no biggy…but no lighter, just some damp matches. Then I go to wash my hands, and my water is running out. L I realized also that I need electricity to charge my phone and WIFI to get on the internet and going to Starbucks everyday is starting to get expensive. And laundry, I have to do laundry now with this stupid waiting job. Office jobs don’t get your clothes dirty; you can wear them for weeks. I normally went to the house in PB to do my laundry, but it was getting to be a hassle driving all the way out there and the roommate relations where becoming…strained. So I had a little panic attack, cried to my kitty, and to who ever else was in ear shot to me. Even called my ex boyfriend in Costa Rica, who invited me to come back to live the simple life, in the jungle. And I almost thought about it. But then realized that I would be bored in 2 weeks and jungle life wasn’t for me. Thank God I have some amazing friends that were there and willing for me to come over, take a shower and recharge my RV, do some laundry and recuperate my body and soul. I would be ok for a few more weeks.

            I had had enough. Too much moving around, too much stress, too much worry about where I was going to park, what was going to break next and whether I was going to have enough money to fix it. I was having too much trouble and not enough adventure. I was wasting too much money on food, since I couldn't plug my fridge in. I had to go to the library to go on the internet, or friend’s houses which weren't always available. Showers became interesting too. I either have to take a shower at work, typically after I work out in the little gym they have. Or I go to yoga, and take a shower there afterwards. Either way, I have to work out in order to take a shower. So I've definitely lost some of that Costa Rican weight I put on. I also can’t hold food very long. I only buy what doesn't need refrigeration, or if I do, I get enough for 2 meals. And make sure I portion it out accordingly. The poor RV girl diet is working!!

            Needless to say these were some trying times…many nights found myself questioning why I even got this stupid thing in the first place. Was it even worth it? But you live, you learn and you figure it out. That’s exactly what I did, and had some very interesting experiences because of it.

Car Shopping

         When I came back from seeing my family in Ohio, I had 3 days, well like 2 and a half, to find and buy a car for under $1600. Plus I was working still at Sammy’s at night and don’t know shit about cars. I also don’t have a car to go test drive cars, so I have to relay on my car2go gizmo, or friends to get me around. I start my new job at the insurance company on Monday, so I have something to get to work in. I mean, theoretically, I could still use my RV to get from here to there, but it’s a pain in the ass to drive, especially during morning rush hour traffic. I'd have to leave at 6am to get there by 8.

         I get home Thursday afternoon and get to Criagslisting. Thank God my friend Kate is willing to drive me around to check out a few cars that evening. And what gems, they are. The first one we see is classy, navy blue 1990 Cadillac Cupe de'Ville. I wasn't originally going for that one, but the car I saw online was a stick shift and I'm not that cool yet, that I know how to drive one of those. So the kind salesman gave him the keys to his very own car and told me to test drive that one in stead. They're ALL for sale! I'm pretty sure the fine gentleman selling these cars stole them, or had someone else steel them. And is now reselling to poor little girls like me. He looked, talked and dressed like Kat Williams, and hilarious as he was, I was not sold on the Caddy. Pimpin, since been pimpin, since been pimpin.... He did smoke a blunt with us and gave us lots of compliments, so that was special.

          The next few cars were old, or made some weird noises or just weren't my style.  Friday was go-time. I have several appointments made with several car sellers. I have my car2go and I have Sarah and her boy Nick, my car advisers to assist me. As I’m checking the logistics on where I’m going, I realize my car2go limit was going to get used up pretty quickly and I’d be running all over the city, and out of the operating area. So Im better off getting myself a rental. They had a weekend special, so I snagged it and traveled in style for the next 72 hours. AC and everything!

          Nick proved to be a wonderful help in assessing cars for me. Even in his hungover state.  He didn't just judge them by the color…like I did. He asked the right questions, did all the talking. Told me what to say, what not to say, stop being so ditsy and a little less naive. He explained to me how to toughen up my response and reactions as to not appear so desperate and even took over in Spanish when necessary.  After looking at 3 cars, we were tired and ready to quit this game. While we were talking to a potential seller, there was a guy working on him truck nearby. This guy thankfully was eavesdropping and also has a thing for curvy Russians, because, he interjected so we didn't buy a lemon as well as offered his mechanical services to me to look at other cars, as well as help work on my RV. We exchanged numbers, and a new mechanic friend was born.

           I couldn't use Nick the following day, cause apparently he wanted to spend quality alone time with Sarah, bladdity bladdity blah. So I call my new mechanic buddy to come with me to scope out some other cars. I schedule an appointment for a Hyundai Sonata, and they guy has a heavy Russian accent, so immediately I’m excited. Bring me a fellow Rusky any day, and we’ll talk business. I go pick up Travis the mechanic, and on the way there we get to know each other a little. Turns out, he lives in the truck he was fixing. He used to have a meth prob, but hes all good now…rrriiiiggghhtttt. He's also race car driver apparently, and knows how to rebuild carburetor in exchange for beer and or cookies. Sounds like a winner!

            We get to the shop, and test drive the car. Seems to be running in tip top shape.  The Russians immediately love me (and hate him) offer me some beer, or vodka, or to go out dancing to celebrate my new car. The next day, I come pay half and drive off in my new shiny, and pay the rest the next day. But before I do, this little mechanic boy manages to steal keys to a Jetta they are working on and offers to sell them weed. So far I haven't been linked to it, and I don't think it ever will be. But that’s when I decide maybe he’s not going to know where my RV is, or fix my carburetor, that little, shit. So now I've got my fancy little silver bullet and now my life is complete…well almost...still need to find a shower.

Down time, Observations and Ohio

Picking the alternative lifestyle of living in an RV may sound crazy, but to me, it just sort of fit. I came back to America with no possessions except some clothes, a cat, and a dream to keep travelling. Life on the road has always seemed home to me. There’s a certain adventure or even a slight fear about driving around not really knowing where you’re going to stay that night. So far, my plan has been to sleep where it’s convenient for the next morning. Or if a friend has a free parking spot in their yard, so I can hook everything up. But if I don’t have to wake up early, I’ll try to go somewhere the kitty can run around and play for a little bit. She needs the outdoors, but I also don’t want to open the door into a busy neighborhood. People tell me I’m brave and ask me what kind of protection I have…and to be honest, I’ve never felt in danger, and I have a hammer, locks on my doors, a fire extinguisher, as well as a vicious guard cat. I’m not brave; I’m just low maintenance, carefree and slightly bored. RV living is perfect for me right now, and manifesting itself into something great. Sure there are hurdles here and there, but I am blessed with friendly faces and family at every turn. I am loved and cared for. What more could a girl ask for? I have an adorable kitten companion; I have work coming in and I've made progress on fixing up the little toaster. People are so willing to help and rescue poor little RV girl. Strangers offer me showers, to plug in my electricity, even bikes. It’s so incredible the love I feel from people. And granted they might just feel sorry for me. It’s OK, Ill take it. I’m surviving. Trying to save a penny here and there, and live the dream for as long as I can.

Of course none of this would be possible if I didn’t have a loving support system or family and friends, friends that have become family and new friends that I make along the way everywhere I turn. So before I start working and shutting myself off from the world, its time to go check in with the fam.

My parents and grandparents all still live in good ol’Toledo, OH. Where I was brought to at the age of 5 from Russia and decided at the age of 8 that I was leaving. It's become a sad and pitiful little town, worse each time I go back. Businesses closing left and right, crime rate increases, the rate of people moving out of there is higher than babies being born. Plus its super hot in the summer and super cold in the winter. Sounds magical doesn’t it? 90% of my friends have moved either out of state or city, and the only people I have left to visit remain my family. I check in once a year. This time, after living in Costa Rica, and then going straight back to San Diego, it was time for me to 'pass go, and collect my $200'….$2000 in my case, because I’m a spoiled little brat that needs help getting back on her feet…again. Thanks mama and papa! 

My visit was much needed and perfectly timed. It gave me some much needed grounding stability, a couple tears of joy, some tears of sadness, and enough money to get back and buy myself a commuter car. I needed a fresh start…and a hug from my mommy. So I dropped off Gatita at another sitter, packed my bags and got on the next flight to Detroit (Toledo's big ghetto brother 45 min to the north) and went home for a visit with my tail between my legs.

Back to the Job Hunt

The end of LIB marked the end of fun and the beginning of getting back into the grind. The Greenpeace gig sucked, and I quit after a week. Moved my RV the hell out of Wind n Sea. and after a good house cleaning, vacuuming and hiding out from the party world, it was time to start looking for a real job. Time to make back some of those pennies I spent. So I started doing what every does…updated my resume and started calling an any and all of my connections near and far, old bosses, old frienaemies, co-workers, people I haven’t talked to for years.

I quit my cubicle desk job, sold my car and moved to Costa Rica a year ago, and was dreading going back to life at the office. So I decided to go to my fall back plan and be a waitress. I haven’t waitressed, or what they now refer to as “serving” to be politically correct since I was 22…but my fresh new resume says otherwise. My lovely friend Sarah, says “Just lie, everyone does it, put me down as a reference she say I was your manager, they’ll never know.” “Fake it till you make it” She said. Ya, well if they didn’t know when they hired me, they sure did figure out it.                                                                                                      

 After a ton of interviews, call backs, and no thank yous, I finally got hired on at Sammy’s; super corporate, not for easy-going, Sammy’s Woodfire Grill. They make you learn the whole menu, take tests on all of the ingredients, memorize everything, bus, serve and seat people, and close and open the place, AND have time to polish silverware. Who do these people think we are? Machines?! Slaves?! Needless to say, I didn’t last very long. And they first suspended me for being late (cause I couldn't find parking Downtown on ComicCon) then the day I was supposed to come back, I was “let go” for not being a good fit.

Good riddance, Charlie. I hated that place. So I reached out to other areas I thought I might be good at. Teaching English as a second language, tutoring, substitute teacher, yoga instructor, Zumba, Pilates, kids swim couch, making sandwiches, even baby-sitting. I applied to grocery stores, the YMCA, dog-walking, pet-sitting, house-sitting, flight attendant, working on a cruise ship, anything and everything Craigslist had to offer. I still get called out promo gigs here and there…but now I drive myself to them myself.

For a month I job hunted…go to interviews and staffing agencies in my RV. Here I am, Kelly Services…prepared for duty! Oh am I not dressed professionally? Give me just a second, I brought my whole closet…and my cat, wanna meet her? I move around every few days, relay on friends to shower and eat very minimally. Its cool, those Costa Rica beans and rice sure didn't miss me...so I could stand to loss a few lbs. Sadly I have to revert to the tried and true desk/job/office admin role that I loath so much. But, shit, that’s my entire resume has anymore and clearly, I wasn't fit for a server thing anymore. Plus who can keep that schedule?! I want my evenings and weekends free, thank you very much. I’m spoiled and I have needs, damnit. Plus I'm getting old and I get sleepy by 11, I can't be closing a restaurant at midnight anymore. 

I finally land a silly little desk job at an insurance company. Part-time admin, so theoretically I could still work evenings and weekends to make ends meet. The job, however is out in Torrey Pines area, no where near a bus stop and sure as hell out of the car2go zone. This could only mean one thing…I need a car. 

The Crazy Wind'n'Sea Guy

When I come back to San Diego, I call my friend and ex-roommate, Kerry, to see if she would let me park near her pad. Her studio is in Wind’n’Sea, La Jolla area. Kerry’s house has a side yard that is the PERFECT size for my RV, tucked away, on a quiet alley. Gatita can play all night and I can live in Kerry’s studio while she’s on vacation for a week. I can hear the ocean from there, there’s a big plush bed, and a shower! The things dreams are made of. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it? And it was, for a night, and part of an afternoon, I guess. Story of my life, there’s always a take with a give. One step forward, 2 steps back.

 Kerry’s has neighbors, Mike and Beige. Very nice couple, 2 dogs, clean house, winos and weedies. I meet them the first night I arrive, great talks, good vibes, lots of wine. I get Kate’s car for weeks at a time, but every once in a while she comes home and needs it for a few days leaving me car less…how dare she! And I can’t take the Car2Go because I’m not in the operating area and God knows how much a 3 hour trip will add up to. So the next day, I ask Mike for a ride to my promo job out in El Cajon. I do little promo gigs here and there, passing out flyers, or cheese, or trying to get people to buy designer vodka, whatever these companies want. They send attractive girls to mini marts and liquor stores to promote their liquor, I’m sure you’ve seen broads like us out there. I have to stand there and look pretty, and try to sell people liquor; could be a harder job. 

So this guy, Mike, says he’ll take me, sure no problem! Just gotta throw him some gas money. Halfway there he starts like rubbing up on my leg and shit and weirdly asking and re-asking and re-asking for directions and “where are we going” and what the hell am I doing out here anyway. “You can’t just be going out here for $80.” “Tell me the truth, what’s the real reason, you’re going out here?!” So now, he’s called me a liar and a prostitute. And I hate him. He makes me send the promo guy a text message saying I’m not going to go there, that he’d rather just pay me $80 to go back to La Jolla to hang out. I’m livid, actually to the point of shaking and crying, I ask him to take me to my friend’s house. On the way to Kate’s, he keeps asking me if I’m going to have him shot. I wish that were the case. At least I wouldn’t have to listen to his stupid lisp and your idiotic mouth ever again. We get to Amy and Kate’s house and I go to get out, thanking him very much for the, here’s $10 for gas, and thanks for fucking me out of $80, asshole. He then proceeds to tell me that if I get out of the car, he’s going to have my RV towed by the morning. Oh and why cant we go back to being friends? “Lets just go back to how it was! Lets be friends!” He says. What?! Are you fucking kidding me?! You want me to be friends with you, after you’ve insulted me and screwed me out of money?! Now you’re bribing me to hang out with you?! Go to hell, motherfucker! Or better yet, why don’t you come in, asshole, have a drink with my friends, let’s just see how awkward we can make this.

I get in the house and immediately call Kerry and tell her what’s up, that her lunatic neighbor has hijacked me and I want to punch him in the kidneys…repeatedly. She gets on the phone and tells him to quit being an asshole. He gets off the phone with him and asks me if I really thought he was seriously going to do that. Why yes, yes I did…I don’t know you and I’m parking on your driveway. Finally leaves, saying he doesn’t want to be “that guy” anymore. Wow, too late, buddy.

The rest of the 2 weeks that I stay there, it’s weird and awkward and I barely even stay there for more than a few hours. I’m either at work, working out, or out with friends. And when I  do walk by to go to Kerry’s studio, he screams shit at me, like “Stop looking at us MAAASSSHHAAA”

So I’m out $90 and 2 bottles of wine that Kerry and he drank before she left for vacation. Thanks assholes, I was better off with Car2Go. I sincerely hope that idiot was drunk or high or just mentally handicapped. Because I can’t imagine a person saying the shit he was saying to be of average mental capabilities. Crazy thing is his girlfriend is super cool and smart, way to smart to be with him. But who really knows, she might be bat-shit crazy too. Or maybe that’s why she’s with him, to have a dumb little puppy of a man around to do whatever you want for them. Maybe I should get me one of those…do my bidding, peasant!  Either way, lesson learned…don’t ask for rides from strangers. 

Festivus Part Deux

The trip to Joshua tree was interesting, as any trip in the toaster. After we set sail from LAX it was smooth sailing, mostly. Being in LA during rush hour, which is really like, every hour, we decide to kill some time and go shopping for supplies. We load up on champagne and juice, straws, chips and dip, various kinds of liquor, beef jerky, hummus and veggies, the usual festival shopping list and make our way, chatting, and getting to know each other, straining to hear the music. We get to a pocket of traffic and the RV stalls out in the middle of the highway. Now normally it does this after being off all night, and if I’m going up a hill, or stopped at a red light. But this was on the highway at like 5:45PM on a Friday going like 10mph. This was weird. Thank god it started, otherwise, I would have been a very unpopular girl in LA. So we drive a bit more until we see a SUPERtarget and decide to give the RV a break and go shop for some speakers. When we go to leave, the RV doesn’t start. Weird. So we call AAA as, they are on my favorites list, I call them about once a month. They come out and try to jump it, nothing. Salah has the bright idea to ‘jiggle the wire’ yes, that’s right, I said it. That magically did the trick and we were on our way again. We arrive at night and just set up wherever we choose…with hookups. The winds out in the desert were so crazy, it felt like we would blow away. And in the morning we are told to vacate because we did not pay for an RV spot. But we were here and alive, so its all good, we don't need your stinking hookups anyway! 

I was to work at the Coffee Jojo, making frozen coffees 4 hours each day of the festival. I met so many awesome people, heard some great music, watched a solar eclipse in the Joshua Tree incredible “desertness” and think I actually broke even on tips from the coffee job! We made friends with a whole burner community, and they kind of adopted Salah and I the whole weekend. The boy child, we’ll call K, developed a crush on Miss Masha. Little did he know I was more excited about being friends with his mom, Wendy. But it was so great to be loved by their whole crew that I didn't mind.

After the festival we decide to drive into the desert to check out the national park. It was stupid hot out there and by the time we got to about 3000 level elevation, Big Bessy wasn’t doing so good. It was making a weird gurgling noise, so we pulled over and turned it off…and the gurgling noise continued. It turned out to be the coolant, boiling out. Ya, it got THAT hot. We walked around a little, saw some jack rabbits and then turned the RV around and coasted back down.

I take Salah to Redlands and carried myself on to Crestline to see a friend, for what I thought was only going to be a day. But as I climbed that mountain, the RV started to putter out at 3000ft elevation, again. I pulled off the road to a call box only to see that my coolant was doing the same thing it did in the desert. While I’m on the phone with the dispatch, the sweetest old man, pulls over to try to help me, sees that I’m alone and refuses to leave until AAA or my friends arrive, saying that his daughter was attacked once when her car broke down and he couldn’t let that happen to me. I must have a giant sign on my head that says “help me, I’m a dump little girl that bought this thing cause it was silver”. If I don't, maybe I should, because people always want to come to my rescue. And believe me, its much appreciated, because I am a dumb little girl that bought this thing because it was silver.

My friends finally came to rescue me, and I could relieve the good samaritan of his duties. Then AAA tows me up the rest of the mountain. Hey, at least I saved on gas! The next day I was supposed to drive to LA and then Santa Barbara and then to Irvine for Lightning in a Bottle. Now that’s just crazy-talk. That’s a lot of driving in a normal car, let alone my hoop-tee. So I take a much needed rest for a few days in the mountains and decompress from festy #2.                                   

The way back down the mountain was breathtaking. I basically coasted the whole way down jaw open taking in the mountains and all their magesty. All I was missing was my little Gatita on the dash looking out the window. I got into town for a bit to eat and I while I was sitting there, chewing on a burger, killing time, I get a phone call from my friend Blayne who informs me that his friend Adam has a house in Irvine (20 min away from where I’m sitting). Perfect!!! There's that weird universe thing again. I call him, meet up and get a hot shower and some much needed rest before LIB. Oh, and Adam turned out to be pretty cool too.

We get to the gates at like 9:30am, before the ticket gates are on sale, before anyone is allowed to get in, just volunteers and eager hippies chilling in a parking lot. So we do what any festival goers would do and start decorating, painting, getting costumes together and of course having a few mimosas.

LIB was incredible. Like being home after being away in a different country for a year…kind of exactly like that actually! Beautiful faces, excellent music, dancing and merrymaking. But then, just like that, it was all over and it was time to go home and back to reality.

RV vs LAX

The wretched ProFlowers gig was finally over and it was time for festivus part 2.Joshua Tree Music Fest, followed but a 3 day break, then Lightning in a Bottle. So first things first, drop Gatita off at another sitter, arrange supplies, dump the RV refill it head for wonderland. I was en route to LAX to pick up Salah. A friend of a friend (Aisha), who I met while working at the Envision Festival in Costa Rica, that was supposed to come live with me in my RV and travel around the country. We had all these grandiose plans, that started with me, her and Salah going to Joshua Tree, but then she ditched us both and got some dream job in Hawaii. Blah blah blah, who does she think she is!? I kid, I kid, I would have done the same thing in a heartbeat!! But I digress…regardless of not knowing anyone at the Joshua tree festival, I was super stoked. It was still great to get out of town, go to a music festival, make some friends and maybe even earn some money!

Halfway to LAX, I get a phone call from Salah saying that he was going to be a couple hours late. So that was fine, gave me time to go kick it at the beach a little. Got to Huntington, cleaned up the RV and myself, take a little siesta, gave myself a medicinal head change and off I was, back on track to LAX. Now, RVs as it turns out are not at all welcome at the airport, at least not in LAX. They hated me there. First, before I even got into the airport, I had to drive through a police check point. They were letting all the other normal cars go right through, but when I came up, they all threw their hands and freaked out, telling me to pull over. So being a proper, cooperating citizen, with zero contraband, I obeyed. The lady-cop was mean mugging me as she asked me some basic questions, then looked inside the RV and said “Do you live in this thing ma’am?” “Why yes, yes I do, do you like what I’ve done with the place?” She gave me a sad, I feel sorry for you, pitiful look. Or maybe she just was disgusted with my hippy tapestries and feathered flair. The other 2 cops looked inside, saw that I wasn’t smuggling in Mexicans or drugs and that my closet was just full of shoes and sent me on my merry way.

Next step ideally, would be to park, and wait for the arriving passenger. So I pull up to the parking garage. Nope. As it turns out my RV is a bit taller than 7ft. I smashed the air vent and scared the shit out of myself as well as a parking attendant. As I jumped out to look at the damage, he came running and yelled at me with his broken Indian English, that “this car too big, you cannot drive this here! Why you bring this car to airport?!”  Thank you sir, I am now aware of that, and I decided to bring this car, because I don’t have any other options at the moment, thank you for asking. Now where should I park this beast? He instructed me to park on the side lot, which happens to be a security lot and informed me that maybe they’ll let me stay for a few minutes. Nope they didn’t. Lady security kicked me out in seconds and told me to go pull in where all the other cars were waiting. So I cut across a median and like 4 lanes and get to the passenger loading and unloading area and actually do get to wait for like 5 min. Even got a peanut butter and apple snack in me. Until another kind LAX employee shoos me off and tells me to just coast around until my passenger gets there. Does he realize what a pain in the ass that is? Not to mention how much gas this thing eats? Clearly not. So I then decide to stop at another drop off/pick up zone. I bit farther back in the international arrives, where I figured there was plenty of space, I could just hang back for a few minute. There, another brilliant gem of an attendant tells me that I can’t park there, but technically, I am a bus, right? So I should just park under any of the green shuttle/bus signs. I knew he was half-retarded but, fuck it, he told me to do, I’m go with it. So I park under a green sign and 3 min later, my old friend that just shooed me away at another place, laughingly tells me that I can’t park there either. I tell him that his buddy over there, another employee just told me that I was a bus and I could park here. He looked at me like I was crazy and told me to keep coasting and that this is clearly marked for shuttle buses, and the other guy “lied” to me. While I know he didn’t lie to me, he was just tryin to help a sista out, this one just wasn’t having it. So I coast about 4 more times until finally Salah gets off his plane and we are full steam ahead; 25mph in LA traffic, music full blast on an iPhone. I hear this is what they call “living the dream”.

Logistics, Decompression and Recreation

Before I moved to my work parking lot, I would still parked elsewhere, like the beach for instance. I mean, that’s what RVs are for aren't they? Recreation? Of course my situation is a bit tricky, and in the RV world, I’m considered a “full-timer” meaning I live in my RV full time, and don’t just take it out on weekends and holidays. I have to plan things out a bit more accordingly. Like how much electricity and water do have remaining, and will my kitty have a safe place to run around. It takes lots of scoping out and moving at the right times of the day to make this all happen. But it does, and I've had the pleasure of beach front property without the costs many a times. Of course, so do bums...

There are challenges that go with every perk in this life. Charging the thing, for example; it needs it every one in a while however, and I, for that matter do as well. I have to find friends...or strangers with a front yard so I can drag my extension cord in through and use the facilities. Things like bathing, are often taken for granted when you live in a house, with walls and stuff. I had an overwhelming response on CouchSurfers for people offering me to park by their houses, or just showering and letting my cat run around in their yard. However a lot of these wonderful souls were way too far out of the way, and for $100 a tank, I can just drive up to Escondido for shits and giggle. I do however welcome these down times though. It’s good to have some quiet decompression time. Clean up, relax the mind, body and soul.

After being gone for a 10 day festival adventure, I pick up Gatita from the sitter, and what a pissed off kitty she was. She wouldn't look me in the eyes for first night and ran away outside to play for 2 nights straight. She hates being indoors all day, but who does?! You can actually see her slim down when she gets back into nature and back to the wild kitty that she is. But there was also no way I could take her to a festival. She would freak out and run away, or worse, some hippy would find her and think she’s the new great messiah or something and she would never be seen or heard from again. 

Another problem with living in an RV is that the fridge doesn't work unless it’s plugged into a wall. Well that’s not the only problem with THIS particular RV, but it’s a big one. And if you're all fancy and shit, and have a generator, you don't have that problem either. Not I, said the fly. So not only do I have to move my RV all over town, chasing an electrical outlet and a shower, there are times where I have to get all of my modes of transportation all into one sport, in which case, I get to play musical cars/bikes/RVs with myself. You think I’m crazy, but let me give you an example. I parked and recharged at my friends Alex’s house for a night, and then, during the day time when everyone’s at work, I drove my RV to my old house on PB drive. Parked there, biked back, locked the bike up at Alex’s and drive back Kate’s car to the PB house. Then in the morning, I would rollerblade to Alex’s and then bike back with the rollerblades in my backpack. Sounds like fun doesn't it? I’ve had to do variations of this many a times, to the point where I've gotten it down to a science. There’s a certain time for parking to be available, and when traffic is good and bad, certain roads to take for an unregistered RV, just little things to take into consideration.

When all of my modes of transportation are at one house, I can relax and chill for a few days. Look for jobs, yoga, read a book. I had a prime spot at the PB house. I could plug in and charge, do laundry, get my mail, bike ride, see my friends, and be close enough for work and play. Sadly it only lasted a few stints and now there’s a whole new crew living in that house and I can no longer take advantage of the amenities. More on that later. The one thing that sucks about PB drive is that it’s a busy street and there are tons of cars constantly going back and forth disturbing my peace. How dare they!?. If you've ever slept in a car, you can understand that when other cars drive by, it shakes and rattles you and everything in it. It wakes you up, and kind of scares you. I mean, what if they get to close and hit you? Usually that’s about when I start looking for a new spot.

Next!

Home on the Roam Repairs

Since I’ve gotten her, in March, I’ve been a lot of repairs into Big Bessy. She first got a brand new battery for the interior lights, followed by some repairs on the fuel pump, the high beam lights, and the electrical gas lighter so I could charge my phone. She also got some new breaks and a new mini fridge. I then got a bike rack for the back bumper so I wouldn’t have to bring my bike inside every night. Then came some beautification, of hanging tapestries, a clothing rod for my top bunk, which is now my closet. Am also still working on fixing my real closet, as it turns out there’s a weight limit and the rod that the hangers went on, and it sort of fell off. So if anyone knows how to install a hang of sorts to plywood and it will actually hold some stuff, please, be my guest, I’m all ears.

But is she drivable? Sometimes…most of the time. She passed her test drive when I started it and drove it around the block, so I assumed so at the time. However the seller failed to mention that it stalls out 3-5 times every morning on average. That it definitely stalls out if you’re stopped at a red light going up a hill.  The carburetor makes all sort of popping noises. The seller also didn’t smog it and now poor Bessy can’t pass a test on her own. He told me it was being sold as is and had me sign a contract stating that I understood that. This is a “hobbie” vehicle, he said, not for someone that doesn’t understand cars. Yes, more like full-time job in my case. So, 3 months later, I went to legit smog place and they told me that legally, I was allowed to sell it back to him. Or try to work out a deal where we could spilt the cost of the repairs enough for it to pass a smog test. I called him and told him all of this. And he’s from NY, and doesn’t really know the rules of CA smog. Plus, he told me, and I quote “I’m actually a little bit retarded, and so if you try to sue me, I’ll have my doctors and lawyers and stuff win, on account of that I didn’t know the law here in CA.” Yes, that’s right ladies and gentlemen, he played the retard card. I was speechless. I mean what can you even say to that? Sorry you’re retarded; sell me this piece of shit back? Or help me fix it. It was like talking to, well, to a retard. I had to have the smog guy talk to him and even he felt bad for me and gave me discount on my smog. My silly retard already used the $2000 to buy a minivan and he can’t afford to give me money. He also informed me that he was getting food from the food bank, government cheese and everything. Mother fucker, don’t talk to me about government food. I came to America as an immigrant, we got government cheese, and corn flakes and peanut butter too, I didn’t have clothes from anything but salivation army till I was in high school.

 But to pass a smog test it boils down to is most likely is my carburetor. Who even has a carburetor anymore? Do they even make those? I was looking around for a mechanic to say it passed when really it didn’t, just so I could finally register this beast. But to no avail. I kept getting the runaround. All I got was missed appointments and no answers when I called, so I gave up. So I’ve been driving around not so legally, but slowly and inconspicuously. Nobody can see that giant silver RV, it totally blends in…I did get a little nervous when I drove up to festival land, but that didn’t stop me from having the best time EVER!

Some of the other little minute details I’ve had fixed, was the gas gage; turned out to just be blown fuse. The gas tank was lifted and screwed into place. The water tank exploded one day when I was filling it and can no longer hold water. So things like showering, brushing teeth and washing hands become more challenging. Thank God for friends, yoga studios and jobs with showers. Otherwise I’d be a filthy bitch. So I had to get that repaired, and as soon as I did that the tank sprung a leak on the inside. I came back one day and the floor was all wet. Awesome. Pretty soon the floor is going to rot and mold and its going to smell like shit and I’m going to not be able breath and die. So ya, I fixed that. And what do you know…the sewer tank sprung a leak. And apparently you can get a ticket for that. They tend to frown upon leaking poop on the streets. Maybe if I lived in India, it’d be ok. But I live in America’s Finest City! And we can’t be having any of that.

            I’ve also upgraded my sleeping arrangement quite a bit, that my bed is now the most comfiest thing I have ever slept on! After about 4 months of living on the streets, I noticed that all curbs are not created equal. Some have a very big curve down angle. So much so, that I’d sort of roll off my bed and after a while and the fold out table/bed, old, dingy cushions become super flattened out. So my back was starting to hurt…a lot. Not to mention everything was constantly sliding off on a lean. So when I was helping my friend Sarah move into her new loft, and the old tenant was moving out he left his giant temper-pedic memory foam mattress pad and ever since that I’ve been sleeping on a cloud! Back problems are gone and its even curved under so its like sleeping in a crib. Live is much more comfortable, I must say. But there is always work to be done, as in Bessy, if its not one thing, its.

Work

When I finally made it home from my 10 festi-field trip safe, sound and itchy, I couldn’t think about doing anything but showering and sleep for a few hours before going in for my big girl job. With a head, full of festival “after-effects”, I was thanking my lucky stars that this “job” only requires a high school equivalent and/or the mental capacities of a trained monkey. Plus this whole job thing is something I haven’t had in almost 8 months! Teaching yoga and Zumba in Costa Rica doesn’t count. I start my training for my 4 week, $10 an hour, seasonal stint at Proflowers, and let me tell you…it’s pretty intense! There are all sorts of rules and shit. I find out they have a gym, showers, giant refrigerators, a 24 hour, secure parking lot, and they’re going to feed us breakfast, lunch and dinner for a week. Fuck ya bitches! I’m moving in! My cat can play in the parking lot, eating me out of house and home and grow big and strong to defend me against snakes and coyotes on the canyon that the job is on. But seriously, the cat eats everything, coyotes got nothing on Gatita.

When I finally started working, it was the most dreaded, unrewarding, mundane job I”ve ever had, in my life…ever. 80% of my fellow co-workers are morbidly obese. Thanks to the vending machine snacks and buffet meals 3 times a day, everyone is 300lbs+ and growing. I guess they didn’t get the memo about the gym. It’s really and truly sad and disgusting sight to be honest. To be handed a free cupcake by a 400lb man with saggy titties, has a very “filling” effect on you. Very inspirational to help me loose that extra 15lbs I gained of rice and beans in Costa Rica. The job itself sucks too. Here we are, trying to make Mother’s Day special and send them a pretty bouquet of flowers, then after a very pleasant 5-10 minute conversation of them choosing the flowers, the card and vase,  they get to the bottom line. The price; and because the shipping and handling is almost doubled the cost of the flowers, guess who gets yelled at and accused of false advertising? This girl. Me. Over and over and over again. The week after Mother’s Day is even worse. This is all of the people that want their money back when the bouquet came back wilted and brown and dead and smelly. Happy Mother’s day mom!!! Here’s some dead flowers J Sure I excel as professional customer service over the phone and listen to people from all over the country bitch and moan, about this, that and the other. I empathize, sympathize and then roll my eyes and take the next caller. At the end of the day, after 8 hours of being yelled at, you just want to crawl into a hole and cry, or get really high or drunk…or eat a big fat cupcake.

 I count down the days till my last day of that wretched job. And truly, only 3 good things came out of my ProFlowers experience. I got some money to pay for some much needed repairs on the RV, I got to workout at a real gym, with weights and showers and stuff, and I met Jessika. Jessika is a fellow vagabond kid like me, who saw me in my RV one day and inquired within. She was so impressed with my open-road life, she took me out to a fancy dinner at whole foods to pick my brain and decided to give her place a 2 weeks vacating notice and do the same thing… but in her Subaru station wagon. Poor thing had all these plans of going to school in San Francisco and just living in that for a while…but it broke down half way up when she got there and didn’t get to fulfill her car-living dream. But don’t worry, she’s fine, she’s plenty cool and smart to get by, but later, when I refer again to the homeless girl who lived in my RV…this is who I will be referring to.

To Lucidity and back

Lucidity was Big Bessie’s first festival. With me at least; who knows how many festivals this thing’s been to? More than me, I can tell you that for sure. We load her up and set sail. I drop Gatita off at a friend’s house and head to Santa Barbara. Kate in front commandeering. Sarah and Blayne sleeping on my RV bed and its raining and gross out. As we get closer the rain starts dripping onto my lap from the windshield. Sarah tries to bust out my caulk gun and caulk the crack mid-driving. And apparently caulk doesn’t stick to wet plastic…who knew. Duct tape, though, duct works. Yes, it really does fix everything, and then some.  They taped a towel to the windshield and that’s how we drove the rest of the way. Not bad, interesting look for the big V.

We get there in one piece and I get a phone call. I finally found myself a job! Not a great one, not even a permanent, one, but it’s a job! And it will pay for festival season…or at least the gas. My friend Joel that I've known for a years from San Diego, works at ProFlowers and they were hiring seasonal customer service help. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. I start the exact day I come back from my trip #1 and the last day I would be working would be the day I leave for Joshua Tree/Lightning in a Bottle. Perfect time! Again with the coincident!

Lucidity was an incredible time. Small and quaint festival. Even though they said it was 4000 people, it felt like 2000.  Saw lots of people I haven’t seen in a while. Enjoyed mind-exploring opportunities, danced, walked and mingled. Experienced every kind of weather. What with torrential downpours, followed by hail, then sun, then a rainbow, then some more rain, then a DOUBLE rainbow!! Oh ya…it was Fing magical! And cold, really cold, then hot, then perfect. And they say California doesn’t have weather.

Having big bertha has made me so spoiled. I will never again have a tent at a festival. Sleeping in there when I want and having some place to call my home, quiet time and all of my clothes to select from is definitely a luxury. Aaaaaannddd there’s a bathroom! We arrive in the mud and park where we get stuck. Sort of sticking my butt in the way, but its all good. After about 8 strapping young men come running to try to rescue me, we all decide its fruitless, and this is where I lay, we decide to have a drink and fuck the bad parking job. I mean, I’m already here aren’t I? The silver beacon of adventure.

From Lucidity I was on my own. Driving up to Oakland to do some trim work for a friend, but also see Oakland and San Francisco. The drive took me about 7 hrs. Going 55 the majority of the time, listening to my ipad on the loudest it can go because there’s no stereo….yet. I made it! And now I’m in the lap of luxury, with a bed, and a shower and stuff. That’s right, I’m moving up in the world. I had an incredible time being a tourista for a few days too! Golden Gate Bridge, the Mission, the Fisherman’s Wharf, a Japanese spa house, Height and Ashbury on 420 and an STS9 concert to boot! It was truly an amazing chain of events that lead me there that it couldn’t possibly have been an accident.

Sunday afternoon, I leave to go back to San Diego to start my new fancy job training on Monday. I fill up and realize that that gas gage didn’t move. Soooo, the gas gage doesn’t work anymore. Nice. I decide to guesstimate, that from San Diego to Santa Barbara it took us 4 hrs, and that’s about when I got on E and got stuck in the mud. So that’s how I made the rest of the journey; counting hours. Sunday also turned out to be a hot one, really hot. I start driving and my engine block starts blowing hot air on my foot….the whole 10 hrs I’m in the thing. Normally when its cold, this is a welcoming effect, but when its 95 degrees out, its not quite as pleasant.  I have a burn scar on my ankle to prove it. Not only is it smoldering outside and in. I must have stepped in some poison ivy at Lucidity and itched my knee/calve area with boots, because my legs have some crazy red, itchy bumps all over them, the sweat making them burn and now its crawling up my thigh. Yuck. To anyone worried for my safety about people mugging me, or kidnapping me or something, there is no way a rapist/murder would even want to touch me that day. I was a hot, sweaty mess. Drunk, Mexican bums at a Victorville truck stop, looked at me squeamishly and quickly looked away avoiding eye contact with me. Ladies, take note.

The drive through desert and Bakersfield was not only hotter, but hillier. I must have been a sight, because I was down to boxers and a wife beater, windows wide open and hot air blowing at my foot, some crazy forest rash on my legs, a curtain flying out my passenger window that I can’t reach to pull back in and all in an ugly silver RV that goes about 35 up hills. Have you ever had speeding cars and trucks coming up behind you, and have to swerve around to avoid hitting you? Scary #3. And every 4 hours, I have to fill my gas tank. You think it would be a piece of cake, but no, not in Big Bessy. The gas tank is not secured very well and you actually have to reach in there, grab the tank, sit it on the plastic part then fill the tank. Oh and it blows smoke and gas fumes in our face first. Goooood tiiiiimes!!! 

My Car2Go experience

When I didn't have Kate’s car I had Car2Go...and still do, but don't use it quite as often as you soon shall understand why. Getting a membership to the fabulous car 2 go is great, as long as you stay in the operating area. Once you step out of the operating area, watch out. Shards of glass come flying at your windshield, there are snapping crocodiles, and lions and tigers and a freaking moat, with poisonous snakes in it. Ya, it’s bad. Not only do they charge you like double rental time, you have to make sure you don’t run out of battery juice. I was convinced that they were hybrids, with both gas and electric engines…nope. Not the case. I go to an interview in Rancho Bernardo, and I’m at 20% juice left, halfway there, probably due to my heavy foot. Apparently if you press the pedal to the floor it drains it faster, who knew? So I arrive to my destination but I’m defiantly NOT going to make it home on this amount. I hit the SOS button, yes it has an SOS button, and a teenage customer service girl, informs me that the closest charge station is 7 min away, and I have to assume the risk going back that way because I might not make it. Cool, thanks. So if I'm stranding on the side of the highway, it’s my fault. I suppose I could still hit that SOS button, and we could sit around an chat about the Kardashians or something. I leave my job interview, get in the car, say a little prayer, cross my fingers, and DO NOT press the pedal to the medal this time. Scary. #2 Trucks coming up behind you, going 70, while you’re a 2-person car going 50 and literally feel the car blowing in the wind, and there’s the dash say “3 min remaining”. Ya. I make it there barely, and still have time juice left to drive around in circles around a college campous looking for the damn thing. When I actually find the charge station with this girl's INCREDIBLE direction giving skills. I plug in thinking it would just take a few minutes, and walk around this college campus looking for a bathroom. Come back and in 15 min, it’s barely made a dent in the charge. Fuck. I go for a walk around to the plaza. Walking comes very natural to me now, having been walking for months in Costa Rica, with no car. I kind of like it now. No body walks in the U.S, at least not in CA. I kill some time, go get some food, go to Kinko’s, print off tickets for Lucidity Fest. When I come back to the car, after like 2 hrs, it had enough to get my home, so I go. I park on Imperial Ave, which is the boarder of the operating zone and have to walk back to Amy's a couple blocks. Well, the car doesn’t let you leave until you go plug it in at a charge station, because again, it’s low on fuel. So I go, try my damnedest to find a damn charge station. And can’t. So my SOS now an angry rant rather than a cry for help. They release me from my car 2 go captivity and I get reimbursed for my 3 hrs that I had to use their silly car. 

Big Bertha was starting to come together. Bed, earring, tapestries, and a brand new fridge that came with stickers! Candles in an RV give it such a classy feel! I took it and the kitty to its first mini-fest at the Emerald village organization in Vista, invited by my friend Yuba. It made it up there great, 45 min drive and a whole gas tank later. We have arrived. The cat ran outside right away and that’s how I knew I could always trust her to come back. She made sure to sniff around the door to know where she was going. I to my festival, saw friends, and had fun. She, off to chase flies and birds and climbe trees and whatever the hell else cats do outside. Bertha made it back fine and stopped at a Vons parking lot just cause Im driving and learned about the free WIFI.

            I seem to have outstanding karma because I get so many awesome things handed to me at the exactly the perfect times. For example, I meet the wonderful Kate. Who is one of Amy’s roommates, and she just so happens to be a flight attendant. This means she is never home. Like 2 weeks out of each month. Leaving her car, open and available for use. And guess who needs a little errand/job interview car?! ME!!! Thank you Kate, you are a miracle. Occurrences like this happen quite frequently to me. Somehow the universe just puts in the right place at the right time, every time. Or meeting just the right person to lead me to something great. Life is full of abundance, you just have to know where to look.

How it all came to be...

It all started off as a joke. I was in Costa Rica on the phone with my dad, and it was a couple months or so before I was due to return to the U.S. He informs me that my Uncle Lev in Los angles has an RV for sale for $2000 and that I should just buy it and live in that! And “HAHAHAHA wouldn’t that be silly?” Well I took it very much as serious suggestion. “That’s a great idea dad! Thanks! Let your gypsy daughter be a gypsy for a minute.” I’ve been changed to a desk job since I was 23 and after 5 years, I’ve had enough. Not only do I hate cubicle corporate jobs, I hate their schedules, the people that take it SO serious and the amount of over weight individuals out that just eat their lives away and sit all day. It’s sad really, but enough about that. I was moving back to America, with no car, no house, no job, with kitten. Yes, maybe I was a little crazy, but damn it, it’s going to work out. The universe has a way of opening up and pointing me in the right direction. I’m a survivor, highly adaptable and pretty low-maintenance for a female. Living in an RV would be perfect! One in better condition would be better, but beggars can’t be choosers. Thank God, I have tons of amazing, wonderful friends that have helped me in so many ways. Without them I wouldn’t make it. From the drives to the showers, to the laundry, electricity, and much more; I am forever grateful.

 I arrived to San Diego March 7^th and couch surfed, here there and everywhere. At my old house sometimes where I used to live in PB a few other friend’s houses. But of course the cat couldn’t be there because people had allergies or they wouldn’t be allowed by the property owners, or people just plain hate cats. Its so crazy to me how some could hate a cute little kitten. They’re just mad because cats are smarter than they are. Cats are much smart than dogs and many humans out there as well. So the cat would crash at other people’s houses on her own sometimes, I somewhere else. Only had one accident really, at my friend Kevin’s house. She ran circles around his apartment, peed on the bed and shit under it. Needless to say Gatita is no longer welcome there…and no Kevin, my cat is not part lynx. Although she is rather long…

            I started looking at RVs right away. I looked at a conversion van from like 76, rusty and decrepit. I also looked at a bigger nice RV, but shit didn’t work and it wasn’t registered yet. Then I saw this 82 Chevy Winnebago, silver, with a black stripe around, a warrior chief decal on the door and playboy bunnies on the door locks. And I was sold. It was small, only 19ft. and drove like a big van. I was assured there was nothing wrong with it but the fridge and that was easy to fix. It was $2000, and with a little love, could be a great little place to live. Just enough room for me and the Gatita. Cozy, like my own little cave on wheels.

            So I bought it. Not sure I really thought it through very well. I didn’t getting it checked out by a mechanic or anything, nothing, just went with it for the color really. Ya, don’t judge me. Here’s $2000 cash. I didn’t really realize what I was getting myself into yet then. As it turns out, a lot goes into owning an RV. Like getting it registered for one example. I’ve had for almost 3 months and its still not complete. I’ve definitely had a night or two there in the beginning where I cried, freaking about what the hell I was thinking buying a freaking piece of shit RV. With a cat, what if she runs away? Or someone thinks shes a stray? I can only imagine a kitten meowing out the window, trapped. Looks like some evil animal cruelty to on-lookers. But with a little help from some friends I got by just fine.

The first thing I did was clean the shit out of the damn thing and tried to get it to stop smelling like exhaust and other wonderful car fumes. Then there was tending to the mechanical issues. It stalls out an average of 5 times when I would go to leave in the morning. When I come to a stoplight or a red light and just give out. Especially going up a hill. Scary, let me tell you. The brakes also sucked so I would coast backwards, if there was a car behind me I was just roll right back into it. Sooooo….fix that $400 issue and another $168 for the brakes and I’m good to go! Ride those wheels of progress and momentum into the sunset!!! Start moving my clothes in it. And finally got a new battery, so that I could at least have lights on without the engine running. Having a space heater is key, let me tell you. It gets cold in a metal box!! But that requires having an outlet. So you need to plug-in something, can’t just park on the side of the road. I was also told that cops will shoo you if you stay parked too long in place. So for that, God created Walmart. Among other things, you can park there 24/7 (although some of them are now banning it) A lot of parking lots like Vons and CVS even have free wifi you can just play with in your home on the roam.

            For the first month I stayed parked at my friend Amy’s in the Barrio Logan. If you’re not familiar with San Diego, it’s just on the outskirts of downtown. And doesn’t have a very good reputation. Because if I ever mention to someone that I am parked there, they freak out and ask me what they hell I’m doing out that, and don’t I know that’s a dangerous area?! Well honestly it’s not that bad. People are just racist against the Mexicans. Yes, there’s a bum here and there too. But they’re friendly bums! Church going families that sell goodies on the sidewalk. The other not scary bonus was that we lived across from a warehouse where they had 24 hr security. We did get some weirdoes out there every once in a while. But where don’t you?