Spin Spin Sugar

I'm everyone – hang your label on me


Dear City of Chico

Okay, I get it, we have a homeless problem. A pretty big one for such a cold place in the winter. And maybe I didn’t research my neighborhood carefully before moving into my apartment in a panic but it’s like a homeless hobo convention up in this bitch at the moment.

I live in a neighborhood that houses SEVERAL rehab centers, I didn’t realize that. County Mental health is a street over. We have a couple of different Vets assistance offices over here. The Blood Bank is across the street. I think Welfare is also down the street. And so is the DMV and you know what kind of people hang out at the DMV. I live right next door to a bike path that is poorly lit and also constantly vandalized, has the homeless and the druggies (no really I’ve seen the discarded crack pipes and syringes over there) hiding out in it during the winter months.

For some reason the city runs the homeless “undesirables” out of downtown around the holidays. It usually starts around Halloween for the trick or treat things they do down there for the kids. Then there’s the Christmas Preview and the other various things that go on around here for the holidays. I get it, we have a giant Christmas tree and kids everywhere and you probably don’t want to see these people all up in your holiday photos. For the moment all of the most famous homeless folks, including the Die Guy live on my block. It’s cool, I get it, rent is expensive, shit sucks, you feel the need to tell everyone to die when they walk by.  But I can’t say it makes the Man in my life feel very safe for me to be out doing my thing, walking back and forth etc.  He’s actually pretty freaked out about it, especially since one of the rehabs on our block seems to have installed a smoking section outside with lawn chairs and ashtrays. Especially since most of the people using this space aren’t clients of the rehab center, they’re just the other random boxes of crazy that stumble off our bike path.

Honestly I don’t mind where I live in town so much. It drives Ben absolutely nuts that I walk everywhere and basically give no fucks about what goes on around here. I think most of our hobos are harmless and I honestly worry more about college kids and my own neighbors than I do the guy having an disagreement with a lamp post or the one dude that seems to talk to cars. (What the fuck, I talk to things that can’t talk back to me all the time? That’s not that weird.) I just wonder if we’re doing anything to help the people who are truly BROKEN here instead of just shuffling them off to one area of town or another. Because some of these people are clearly unemployable and from what I’ve heard from my friends over at the Studio Inn Lounge, they basically just let them out of our local “looney bin,” with 50 bucks and the number to the Jesus Center when they pick them up. I realize this is a pretty common problem in the country, but it makes me sad, as I see it every single day when I’m heading to work.


p.s. I know I already blew National Blog Posting Month. Sue me.



eff chico

So last night I was sitting in my apartment talking to Ben when I heard this “boom” sound.

It sounded like someone hit my car, so I ran outside. Nope, someone LIT MY LANDLORD’S CAR ON FIRE. Needless to say I FREAKED OUT. And ran outside to move mine. But then the tree next to our houses went up in flames and I don’t know I just started crying.
I’ve had a really bad week. Like epically bad. I’m broker than shit, I am seriously trying to figure out how to live off of sixty dollars for the next 7 days without borrowing any money or whatever. I’ve had a couple of other ishy things happen to me in my personal life that aren’t worth blogging about and the last thing in the world I wanted/needed is my house to burn the eff down.
I screamed up the stairs and Ben called the fire department. My neighbors came out. Ben came down and dragged me away from any of the cars because I didn’t need to move mine and in case my landlord’s new car exploded he kinda didn’t want me to explode. So we stood there, me in my Hello Kitty pj’s, and watched my house almost burn down.
The fire department came. The cops came. My poor landlord looked pretty upset. Duh, her brand new car had just exploded. Apparently my amazingly cool landlord had evicted someone and well, this was their idea of a good time and pay back.
I’m exhausted. I’m broke. I’m angry. I’m grateful my house didn’t actually burn down.