When I was in high school things had been really strained at home. I had been acting out - a lot. The previous couple years had seen me go to a foster home and my grandfather looking at a long time in jail - everything happening at home had completely blown up.  (another story, of course) But, we were stuck together and we just didn't talk about anything and pretended nothing ever happened. Life went on.

I finally got my own car, a shitty little black VW Rabbit. I put red pinstripes on it and installed a cool new stereo with a cassette player  - it was awesome, at least to me it was. I was free to finally get out and explore the world on my own, hook up with friends, and guys, and get into trouble.

 My grandparents found out I was dating a black guy. Holy fucking hell - they freaked the fuck out!  I never really saw people in colors. It never really occurred to me that they were different or should be treated different, I just saw everyone for who they were - weird, right?  In fact, most of my friends were black, didn't matter to me one bit. 

I didn't ever really realize they were racist until I brought my friend Andrea home after school one day when I was a sophmore. I don't remember the conversation but it was one of shock and surprise. Mainly on my grandfathers part. Of course, my grandmother and Andrea's mom went on to be great friends and my grandfather grew to like Andrea too. It was pretty hard not to though, she was one of those people who had personality for days. 

Anyway, even though they accepted Andrea, they absolutely forbid me to date a black guy. So, of course...you know how that goes. 

When they found out, they took away my car and sent me to live with my aunt in Michigan for the summer. They even sold my car and bought a new tv, a vcr, and a satellite dish.  You know, those gigantic ass monstrosities that they were in the very beginning? Yup - they got one of those.  Which really made no sense since they only watched like 5 shows on regular tv, but whatever.

It wasn't long after I got back that I began to fall into my old routine. I started smoking again and hanging out with the wrong people again, and a few right people, who liked to do the wrong things. 

It wasn't more than a month into the start of my senior year that shit began imploding (again). I was getting into trouble all the time, having to lie all the time, dating guys who were abusive to me and I was not going to change any of it.  So, my parents kicked me out of the house.

I really had no place to go. I was sleeping in the laundry room of some apartments near a park. There were a bank of big storage boxes where people could store laundry baskets and detergent and stuff. A number of them were empty so I would sleep there at night because it was warm and safe. A few times, a good friend of mine would let me sneak into his house during the day after his parents were at work and they were at school. Obviously, school for me was a bit difficult.

I got really good at stealing everything, because I had no money. I had to adapt. 

One night, my friends came and all crawled in different laundry boxes with me. I will never forget that night, it may have been the most meaningful thing anyone had ever done for me at that time. Nobody had ever cared about me that much. But Trish did. She became my family.

She let me move in with her family. Well, her mom let me move in, but it was all because of Trish. She was this super strong, independent, beautiful girl with an attitude that you did not want to fuck with. Man, I admired that. I wanted to be 'tough' but I was so far from it. I was insecure and damaged but I learned a lot from her. She made me strong when I was with her. I was confident for maybe the first time ever. 

Since I had no clothes or any of my stuff, I decided to go home and get some things while my grandparents were out.  Only one small problem. They had changed the fucking locks on me. THEY CHANGED THE FUCKING LOCKS! 

I was pissed. I mean what kind of "Tough Love" bullshit was this? 

I decided to break the window in the door to the garage and go in to get stuff. While I was there, I also decided that they owed me a little so I took 3 or 4 of my grandmothers credit cards. Bitch had a master collectors set of credit cards, one for every store that was available. She wouldn't even know they were gone.

You know what happened next.....shopping spree, bitches!

I hit Macys, JC Penny, Dillards. I took my friends to have lunch at the fancy Dillards restaurant, multiple times, I bought everything and anything I remotely liked - and even some shit I didn't. I didn't think twice about anything - fuck them for kicking me out, fuck them for making me the dysfunctional human I was, fuck their bank accounts,  just fuck it all. I didn't give two shits about it any more.

I had a great time living with Trish and her family. It was party central in her house, for real. Her mom would spend many nights a week at her boyfriends house so we could basically do whatever the hell we wanted. It was awesome. 

Most days I'd take her to school, I'd skip most of the time, and I'd go to the mall and steal shit and come back and sell it in the parking lot after school got out. I was the queen of Swatch watches, Trish and I would have arm fulls of them and sold them for $10 a piece. "Wanna buy a Swatch?"  

Shortly after one little stunt, a "Vacation from Carbonation" we called it, I had to move back home. See one day Trish and I woke up and decided to just get in the car and drive. No destination planned, no money in our pockets, just go. And what an adventure it was. I look forward to telling that one, but it's a full post on it's own.

Of course things were tense. I was home as little as possible. I'd go away and stay wherever I could.

Some time passed, I don't remember where I was living or with who, but and I had gotten a job at a Sizzler or some crap-ass place like that.  One night, I see a couple police officers come in, probably to feast on some of that high quality gourmet steak, only they didn't. They went to talk to the manager who then turned and pointed at me.  I must have looked like a deer in the headlights standing there with dirty dishes in my hands. They escorted me to an empty banquet room where they placed me under arrest and walked me out in cuffs. My career as a professional slop waitress was crushed in an instant.

My past was catching up to me. 

The credit cards I had taken the previous year from my grandmother had been reported as stolen. Somehow I guess I had just expected my grandparents to pay for all that crap.  Looking back, I was so fucking stupid, of course. But at the time I thought I was doing damage to them, not myself. 

I was charged with felony theft and placed in county jail. Now, I had been to many city jails throughout Kansas City, even saw my name in the Grandview jail cell written by an ex-boyfriend. But going to county....fuck. This shit was real and I was scared to death.  

They processed me, strip searched me, humiliated me, and finally took me to a cell and locked the door behind me. I damn near pissed myself.

STAY TUNED FOR PART II