Friday, November 21st 11:09a.m.
It wasn’t until after we pushed off the dock that we realized that neither of us really had any clue at all how to captain a boat. My friend and I desperately tried to start the motor, to no avail. In a matter of moments we’d been blown into the rocks directly behind my slip. Friends from my dock ran to assist us, using oars to keep the boat from running aground.
Pretty immediately, someone from the Marina Office was out in the Harbor Patrol boat with a rope, pulling us to safety. It was a bad beginning not a promising beginning to a voyage.
The day after my eviction, Sweetheart took off on tour, so it was up to me and my motley crew of friends to get the boat working. After a whole weekend trying to get my motor working, I finally borrowed one from my neighbor. I recruited a friend to help me pilot and soon we were stranded in the rocks.
As we were being towed, I gently pried, trying to find out how the Marina Office had found my blog. I found out that someone actually sent it in, trying to get me evicted. I was pretty shocked. This means that someone either really doesn’t like me, or really doesn’t like my politics, and is willing to anonymously harass me to make my life more difficult.
After the initial failure, I asked another friend, who actually does have boating experience, to help me, and we safely got the boat moved. I spent a few nights couchsurfing, trying to figure out what to do next.
Of course, while I have been running around trying to figure out where to live, the world has been moving quickly around me. At the first moment of what would have been peace since my eviction, I found myself in the back of a car bound for the UC Regents meeting in San Francisco ready to protest the fee hikes being voted on by the wealthy CEOs and lawyers who decide where the money for our public institution goes.
Four years ago I showed up at the UC Regents meeting, assured by the presence of cops that things would stay safe. That day was my first experience with police brutality, and I was repeatedly pepper sprayed, hit with a baton, and watched cops pull a gun on a bunch of unarmed students.
This time I was more prepared, and as hundreds of students and union workers tried to push through the barricades, I watched, unsurprised, as cops aggressively fought them back, at one point shattering a glass door that cut many activists and pinning it on a friend of mine they violently pushed down and arrested. The fee hikes were approved by committee.
That night hundreds of students stormed Wheeler Hall on the Berkeley campus, demonstrating their outrage at the decision to increase student fees dramatically. While they took the building I was in bed with a cute boat punk across town, finally taking a moment to unwind from this incredibly stressful week.
The next morning, I was on a plane.