I am using Blogrolling for the homeless shelter links to the right--and I thought I had them in order but they are not. I have them organized to be, but for some reason blogroling doesn't want to work with me so it will do for now until I can actually get time to re do all the links again. Quick and easy way to find a shelter in YOUR state is to hit CTRL+F and type in your state--each state has astericks in front and that particular link links to the HUD website for that state.

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Sunday, I was working, as ususal, and my finger got caught in a lower door--and yeah it bled and I raised hell. At first I had a couple of customers then I had a line. In the line were some guys being deployed to Iraq--or Afghanistan and one of them accused me of cursing out a mother and her son who were in front of them. I raised up my hand, with blood going down my finger and apologized to the customers for my language and my inability to serve them. I called my supervisor and looked for the first aid kit--didn't find it. My supervisor found it--it was way in the back of the cabinet.

Anyway, this guy jumped on my supervisor telling her I had a bad attitude and called the HMS Host hotline and told them. I also wrote a statment. I am on suspension pending investigation. I will find out tomorrow whether or not I still have a job.

I am letting my mom stay with me because I don't want her on the streets. She told me that she was rushed to the hospital via Grady Ambulance and they asked her if she was faking her high blood pressure and her low blood sugar. She is diabetic and her blood sugar was in fact, pretty high. She spend the night in the hospital. They gave her aspirin in the ambulance and when the nurse took the iv out, she bled everywhere and the doctor told the nurse to change the sheets. The stupid nurse asked, "ugh, why?"

Stupid people.... really make me sick. So mom is stayin with me--unless I lose my job and we both end up on the streets again.

Also, I received an email from someone who saw my art on my Zazzle Gallery. They couldn't buy any of my work but wished to donate pictures to the cause so I will have them up shortly.

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I saw it on CNN this morning that Republicans are trying to disqualify people who have lost their homes to forclosure from voting. It's in Michigan so if you are from Michigan, and have lost your home due to forclosure, YOU HAVE RIGHTS!

These Republicans who are trying to have you disqualified, in my humble opinion, need to be shot.

The Homeless Network is here just for you. You need to know your rights and there are agencies like Project Connect in Atlanta that will help you secure your right to vote. Just because you are homeless doesn't mean you are no longer American. You still have rights.


It's in the news that people are having to choose from paying their mortgage or food or meds or whatever other major need they have.

First and foremost, you have to have food otherwise you will starve.

You also have to have shelter.


So which do you choose? Living on the streets or having a home but going hungry?

There is help for you. Check out The Homeless Network for shelter directories if you need shelter or check the food pantry directory on the Homeless Resource Page.

Art4TheHomeless is here to give you that helping hand.

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The day I found out I was on suspension from my job, I met someone. He had been helping my mother and now she is staying with me. We are preparing--my mother and I--for the fact that I may be on the streets. Rent is due on the 10th of June and hopefully my last check would be enough to pay for another week. My neighbor is a sweetie and she offered to loan me money--I don't know how much.

Anyway, my new sweetie is really cool. He is from India and he has the most gorgeous smile. I get breathless when I look at him! I never thought he would even be interested in me--most guys are not into me. Usually, I get asked out only to have that guy either back out or change his mind, want to come over and use me--so I would have to break that off really fast.

I am looking for work and may have found something. If not, well, art4thehomeless will be homeless again but its nothing new. I feel depressed and lost because how can I help others if I am in the same prediciment? At least I know where to go and how to get help and my mom knows some people on the streets who are really cool--not the usually druggies or mentally ill folks. There are some people on the streets that are like you and me--only they just have no homes of their own.

I do appreciate all the kind comments I have been getting recently. I know my ex coworkers and bosses will miss me up at the airport and I will miss them, but hey it just was not meant to be. I also hope that those military guys who lied about me will get what is coming to them. What comes around goes around--or goes around comes around...something of that nature.

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Renaye sent me a rose!






roses are red
leaves are green
girls are like steel


The rules of the award are:

1. The winner can put the logo on her blog.
2. Link the person you received your award from.
3. Nominate at least 7 other blogs.
4. Put links of those blogs on yours
5. Leave a message on the blogs of the girls you�ve nominated.

Therefore I'm giving the animated rose to:

YoungAtHeart (my mom) http://youngatheart.nutang.com
ATL Music Fan http://atlmuzikfanzinc.nutang.com/
Ikimashokie http://ikimashokie.nutang.com
Chocovani http://chocovani.nutang.com/
Kuri http://kuri.nutang.com/
Cynnie Lee http://cynnielee.nutang.com/
Sylphie http://sylphie.nutang.com/

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I just read Renaye's comment LOL she sounds just like my boyfriend. He says, " You have to get rich!" and they are both right! I will make it no matter what. I do have to help myself first before I can help others, but still I try.

I went to go see a good friend of mine in Little 5 Saturday and wound up in an art show--I didn't sell but I did trade art for jewelry, art, and got my eyebrows waxed for a painting so it was fun. I made some new friends and one of them gave me some money, and a new painting idea--on a window. She even gave me a couple of paint markers and just had this open spirit. The money went for food for my mother and me for the rest of the week. Now that I have two mouths to feed, my food was running very low.

I am applying at different places and know that I will make it somehow.

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Sunday August 28, 2005
New Orleans

The air stuck everywhere like super glue and honey. Clouds slowly rolled in creating a sticky trap for residents who decided to ride out the storm. Anne wasn�t one of them. Footsteps and the sound of struggle weren�t new to this part of New Orleans. Anne paused and turned around toward the dark stranger coming to her. He held a gun and the deal he presented was ugly: If she returned, she would not be harmed; otherwise�

Anne shoved her blade into his side so fiercely she lifted him off the ground and pinned him against the cinderblock wall of the alley. Adrenaline flushed her cheeks and her cold violet eyes simply stared. Fear, strained with anger did not slip into her voice.

�Who sent you?�

Choking on blood, he rasped,
�You should know, Anne,� Blood spattered onto her face. She wiped it off. He began to laugh weakly and she twisted the blade in deeper. Thunder clapped throughout the city as a few cars raced away.

�Monsieur Lavache is willing to reconsider; he usually has his weapons destroyed once they have malfunctioned,�

Anne cracked a smile and spoke sweetly.

�Tell Monsieur Lavache that I shall pass,� Anne placed her foot on his body and kicked out the blade causing the bounty hunter to bleed more. Trembling, he murmured,

�You�ll regret this, Beaulieu,� he turned and staggered off.

Anne wondered if he would even live. She let him go and changed clothes behind a dumpster. It would cramp her style to go to the airport covered in blood. . She tossed the bloody clothes and left her blade behind. She couldn�t take it with her and all she had of value was her airline ticket. Katrina was coming and Anne had the last flight for Atlanta. She had a Tante in Atlanta�she hoped Tante Miranda would take her in. Anne didn�t have family in New Orleans anymore.

She found out that her adoptive P�re, Andy Lavache, was behind her family�s gruesome murders fifteen years ago. Her P�re had stolen money from the Lavaches so he paid for it with his life, along with her M�re, Sarah, and her younger sister, Elain�. Anne was only seven at the time and was also at a friend�s house. It was Saturday, early afternoon. When she walked in her home, it was one-eleven p.m. Anne remembered checking her watch before going in. She would never forget that day or the fact that ever since, that number, one-eleven, has followed her.

The Lavaches were supposedly good friends of the family and adopted her. Anais Keltin Beaulieu had had enough. She made it to Louis Armstrong airport just in time to board. She had no luggage; just a small pack that had one more change of clothes, a toothbrush and toothpaste, mouthwash, and deodorant.

The Lavache family insisted that Anne earn her spot in the family. They trained her to be an assassin; or rather her family�s murderer taught her the many ways to kill. Once she found out the truth, Anne made sure that he knew she was better than him by using the various ways or torture to kill him. It didn�t make her feel any better.

Anne became so good at killing that she was dubbed Ma�tresse de la Mort or Mistress of Death. Anne hated it. Some did deserve to die; murderers, rapist, child molesters, child abusers, and such. As for the families she had to kill, Anne would pray, knowing that her crimes would be held against her one day. There were ways to kill without any pain to the victims. Anne would sing to the children she had to kill and would stay by their side until they died. Then she would kiss their rosy cheeks and cry.

�I am so sorry,� Anne would whisper and after every job well done, she would go to the confessionals crying.

�I killed a child today, P�re,� she would confess.

�God still loves you, fille, and one day you will see that. For now, do what you must do. The Lavaches have control of this city and it means kill or be killed,� would always be the reply of the priest. Anne hoped that kind priest got out of the city in time.

Anne was fortunate that the police were in the Lavache�s pockets, and she did not have a rap sheet. There were no snitches brave enough to face the wrath of the Lavache family. Why did she kill? This question was the one Anne asked herself and only had one answer: She owed it to the Lavache�s for them taking her in. She went to private schools, had the best education provided her. She spoke eight languages: French, English, Spanish, German, Chinese, Japanese, Italian, and Russian, along with Latin, though she didn�t count Latin since it was supposedly a dead language.

She felt she owed them until she overheard a conversation she wasn�t supposed to hear: Dominic Lavache and his P�re, Andy, were discussing Anne. Dominic insisted that his P�re tell Anne the truth about her family. Andy insisted that he should have had Anne killed as well as the rest of the family. That was enough for Anne to plot her escape from the family.

Katrina came just in time to bail her out. Anne was twenty-one and it was time for her to see a lighter, brighter side to life. Anne wanted to use her skills to fight crime. When she realized that she didn�t owe the Lavaches, it was a hard truth to swallow that she killed many innocents in her lifetime. Anne hoped that God was truly a forgiving God and that maybe she could reconcile those crimes.

Anne thought of that handsome foreign man she danced with during Mardi Gras. He was a son of a duke. Dominic had made sure she known who he was after the party. Loukianos is a high ranking official from Greece who had a socialite twin sister whose beauty was such that all the women envied. He was strange, stuck up, handsome with vivid blue eyes and a dark complexion. He kept his hair long and tied in a pony tail. Loukianos looked as if he stepped out from the middle ages. Oh well, it doesn�t matter.

Anne would never see him again. It was strange though, that when she left him, it was one-eleven in the morning. That number was her personal symbol of death, depression, and anything else negative. And why did he pick her to dance with? She was on security duty that day.

Anne didn�t know she was dozing until a flight attendant woke her.

�Ma�am, would you like something to drink?�

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Hey everyone!

This zine edition is special. We have two holidays! Valentine's Day and Mardi Gras!

We have a special and heartwarming story for ya. It's about a fine jewelry store giving out neckalaces to folks who have lost their jobs and homes. We also have the Zazzle artists: Olympia from Greece, Jo from the Netherlands, The Pony Store and Vintage Bob!

Joanna Ballard from Shreveport, LA is our Mardi Gras (birthday girl) feature writer!

Keat's Handwriting from Orlando, FL is our feature musician so feel free to enjoy the music, art, and poetry and revel in the holidays! May everyone have a happy Valentine's Day and Laissez les bons temps rouler!

http://art4thehomelesszine.tripod.com

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