I don't know why I am the way I am. I just am. It started when I was very young - maybe 7ish. A perpetual struggle between my mother and I, my severely overprotective mom trying to coddle me, and I, well...I just wanted to run. I wanted to run away from her, from my family, from my life. And I did just that. Must have been around age 7 when I first ran. They called the cops, my mom and dad's family did, and I was found running with the dog....got half way across town before the cops escorted me home.

Although my physical body was stagnate, forced to remain in one place, my mind travelled the world, wandering from town to town, city to city....country to county. Many times people asked me that one question, that question that always made me want to cry; "Where are you, Jen." They would wave their hands in front of my face and I wouldn't know it, didn't see it....I just wasn't there.

While other children were out playing, I was sitting in my room dreaming. And even on those rare occasions when I did engage in activities with others, I was never fully there. They wanted to play with barbies; I wanted to climb the pyramids in Egypt. As my hands brushed the doll's hair, my mind was standing atop a great mound of sand in the desert....I was tanned then, in my mind....an Egyptian Goddess.

When I was 15, almost 16, right after my friend and I crashed my mom's car on Lakeshore Drive, I ran off to the east coast with a different friend who was, at the time, 19. I always preferred hanging out with people older than myself. We sold just about everything we owned to pay our way, via Grayhound, to NYC and, from there, to Boston. My mom had heard a conversation I had with my friend - did everything she could to talk me out of going. She called every single adult in the family, both sides, to sway my mind in another direction. The day I left, she turned away cold and said, "Fine, just go."

She wanted to go for her own reasons. Plus, she had a friend there who said we could stay until we found work. I just wanted to get away from everything...everyone...even myself. Met a lot of really nice people on the bus there; a few even took it upon themselves to look after me, given that it was known to our fellow travellers that we were on our own, headed to NY with little cash...and I was only 15.

NY was a bit much for me, even though I'm from a big city. No longer than a few min at the Grayhound station and I saw, for the first time, heroin withdrawal. A woman was lying on the bathroom floor, head leaning against the toilet...death in her eyes, but a strange death. They were empty, her eyes were, lest for a few moments every now and then when her body shook and the expression in her eyes was like nothing I've ever seen...pure agony...mental and physical...even worse than my own emotional turmoil at the time. For a while she shook, sweat dripping from her face, and by the time I walked out she was passed out...looked dead...body, mind and soul. When I told a security guard, he said something like, "Welcome to NY," although I couldn't tell exactly because he mumbled it as he walked off.

Went back to sit with my friend and a few others we met on the way who were also headed for Boston, took out some cash to buy a soda, and a woman who had been with us since Chicago scolded me very harshly. She told me to never, ever take out money in that area....never.

We didn't get to see much of NY because the bus leaving for Boston was scheduled to leave in 4 hours...and it was 2 am.

Boston...Boston was nice...for a while. The scent of the ocean was in the air, although we never did make it there, to the ocean, I mean. That was, for me, the ultimate let down, as I wanted nothing more than to see the white water wash ashore shore, to hear the crashing of the waves against rocky mounds. sigh

She called her friend, the one who said we could crash with her for a while. The bitch ended up taking back her offer, said she changed her mind. Pity she didn't change her fucking mind BEFORE WE LEFT CHICAGO...and so we had no place to go.

For the first hour or so we wandered aimlessly trying to find a cheap motel or hostel. At that point I wasn't yet worried; I was too happy just grooving on the scent of the sea, the salt water air....oh, how close it was!!!!!!

We ended up hauling our shit into a little snack shop, getting the cheapest eats we could, and searching phone books for anything, even a little room, cheap enough to stay at until we found work. It would be harder for me, since I was underage, but I figured I could babysit or something. She thought about going to a shelter, but we couldn't do it. They would have sent me right home...or reported me. Fuck knows what. At that point I think she was upset that I went along. Had I not been there, she could have stayed at a woman's shelter without worry. {:o(

Boston is a very expensive city and, between the two of us, we had less than $ 200.

In the end, we decided to stay at a Motel 6 for the night and worry about tomorrow....tomorrow. Interesing night. While we were there we met Terry and Scotty from Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. lol My friend loved Joe from NKOTB...and I thought Donny was sexy. And since Marky was Donny's little brother, and Terry knew both, I was all giddy. heh

The next day we headed out...nowhere to go really...just went from cafe to cafe, ordered coffe, and sat for as long as we could before being kicked out. As night came the weather dropped. We found a little park and curled up in as many layers of clothing as we could fit into, and tried to doze off for a bit. When a cabby frove by, we waved him away. He stopped anyway, though, and asked us if we needed a ride. We told him we had no place to go and no money to pay him even if we did have somewhere to go. He offered us a ride anyway (to where?) and said we could sleep in his cab for the night if we wanted.

We were both a little uncertain, but decided that since there were two of us, and she was a big girl (I had lost all the weight by then) it would be safe enough. Within 15-20 minutes we were parked in a deserted area and the cabbie was trying to feel me up. I stuck it out for as long as I could; it was cold out and very warm in the cab. But every time I closed my eyes his hand made its way farther up my leg. That's when we jumped out and ran for a better lit area....and the cabbie sped away.

We ended up trekking it back to the park and spending the night where we were before the cabbie picked us up.

The next day was much the same as the one before. Many places for homeless women....but we knew nothing of what would happen with a 15 y/o tagging along. Could she get in trouble? Would they call my family? Send me home? We didn't even try.

That night we camped out inside the Grayhound station. You'd be surprised how what kind of people haunt stations like at night! lol We met a really nice transvestite who let me wear her tiara for a bit, fixed my hair all foofy and girlie, and schooled me on how to apply eye makeup properly. My friend was not at all pleased, since she was absolutely opposed to alternate lifestyles - or anything out of the norm. Her frustration was heightened when a few guys approached, asking if we needed a place to stay, as one put his arm around me. I smiled, thanked him kindly, refused the offer....and sat down next to him, his arm still securely around my neck. It was a stange thing, for me, to feel such a thing. I had been starving myself for months prior and only recently had gotten to a point where guys noticed me...and not just to tell me how disgusting I was. I mean, yeah, I had messed around with guys back home, mostly men I met through my other friend, the one who helped crash my mom's car. But I never went far...always stopped them...never wanted sex without love...they were sex without love. Plus, there was nothing about them that I really desired, lest that they made me feel pretty for the first time in my life. What I mean is, they didn't offer the security I needed from a man. But this guy, at the Grayhound station....even though I knew he didn't care about me, there was a sense of security. I had no where to go, very little money for anything....and here was a very strong, built man, probably in his mid 20's, holding me tightly....making me feel safe. I rested my head on his shoulder and shut my eyes.

My friend was beside herself...even to the point of deciding we should leave, go somewhere else. Our friendly transvestite tried to calm her a bit, telling her there's nothing wrong with what I was doing. I was young....let me live.

In the end, we didn't go home with the guys. I let the man kiss me, hold me, lead me by hand to the back of the station where all the busses were parked. My friend followed. Good thing, too. I was young and stupid. Very stupid. So there, in the back of the station, we all gathered....the two guys, the transvestite, my friend and myself. The guys left, the transvestite went on her her/his life, and my friend and I were left again with no one...and nothing. We made out way back to the seating area at the station, got some chips and soda from the machines for dinner, and just sat there...totally defeated. A few hours later another guy came along. He asked us where we were headed. My friend said we had nowhere to go. He asked if we needed a place to stay for the night. Remember, I was young and stupid...I said yes, we did. lol That's when my friend bared her fangs. She said, in a very snotty tone, "I thought you wanted to go home with that other guy."

I blushed, head down....the guy looked at me, grinned, sat down by me, and said that if we needed a place to crash, we could at his place.

We decided not to. My friend was older, wiser....and I felt like a little slut. Really, I was ashamed. lol Even though I had never had sex, I craved emotional attention from men....even to the point of getting myself into VERY dangerous situations! To her I was a slut, tho, even though I was the only virgin she knew....other than herself and one other friend she had. I guess I can understand.

Eventually one of the drivers, who wasn't heading out until morning, took pity on us and let us crash in the bus. He was a good boy - didn't try anything. And every now and then, when I opened my eyes, I looked out to see him glancing back at the bus, watching over us to make sure nothing happened. It's nice when guys don't try to take advantage!!!!!

The story is very long but, in the end, I went home and she went to a shelter.

Years passed, and at 19, I went to NY to find a live-in babysitting job and take a placement test for community college out there that I had gotten into. This time I was prepared. Weeks in advance I had been looking through the Village Voice help wanted ads, contacted numerous people for a possible nanny position.

Although I loved NY, the jobs didn't come through. One family loved to smoke weed (which is perfectly fine) but they didn't want me going out at night....ever. They even called people who go clubbing, well...all sorts of names. I wanted to point out their hypocrisy, considering THEY were doing something illegal that could get them arrested and their children taken away, but I didn't bother.

Another was for a very upper class family. The woman was nice enough, the man was a condescending bitch....he was fully opposed to tattoos and piercings, as well as most of the music I listened to. No go.

Another woman, a single mother, lived in the Bronx. Now, she was really nice. Very cool lady, laid back, didn't mind if I wanted to go out....but the area she lived in was so horrible that, had I taken the job, I would be AFRAID to go out!!!!!! One step away from Hells Kitchen, I do believe!!!!!

In the end I just had a good time around NY....and took the bus home. Defeated, as usual.

I don't know why I am the way I am. I just am. I can never be satisfied living in one place, stuck, stagnating, and when I'm in a situation where that is the only possibility, I become lethargic....don't want to move, can't get out of bed...want to sleep and dream...of being anywhere but where I am.

Since I got my car I've been all over....Indiana (don't ask me why), Michigan, Ohio, West Virginia, North Carolina, OBX....would have travelled more but when I was working I didn't have the time, and when I'm not working, I don't have the money. That catch 22....the one I always bitch about....will forever get the better of me.

I've always been this way. I want to go...always have to go....but once I'm there, I want to go somewhere else. And when I can't, I curl up in bed and don't want to move.

I don't like making plans, never liked feeling trapped. When I'm not in my closed-off, self imposed little funk, ask me, on an hour's notice, if I want to take off for India, or maybe even Australia, I will if I have the cash (and am not working). Ask me, a week in advance, if I want to go out, I will say no. I hate feeling trapped, like I "have" to do something. It has to be spontaneous or it's just no fun.

When I'm in my funk tho, stuck in a situation I can't get out of....ask me to do anything, and I will be unable.

It's caused quite a bit of frustration to those I've known in the past...my mood swings...my inability to move when I'm feeling down, and when I'm a bit perkier, my "now or never" mentality. Who wants to hang out with someone you can't make plans to hang out with? Moreover, there are very few people who are willing, and/or able, to just take off on some spontaneous journey to nowhere in specific. I've only known a few like that. And they get frustrated with me when I'm down and can't get up.

But then, when I'm up, I can't settle down. I've lived in sooo many places all over the city, from the south side to the north. My aunt once said to me, "Why can't you just settle down? No one lives like this." I guess I'm no one then.

And I feel trapped again, so down, so impossible is my situation to overcome that it seems pointless to even get out of bed. And I'm planning now, not for the future, but for fantasy. I have it all mapped out....my rv, the places I will go, the tumbleweeds I will photograph, chase down like an obsessed paparazzi until I get bored and move on to my next desire, whatever that may be at the time.

But I guess there really is no way. I have no money, will never have the money to live on the road...and so I lie in bed, under the covers....and cannot move.

I don't know why I am the way I am. I just am.