The “Stay Hungry” ebook is finally here! Only $5 for 44-pages of photos and story you can’t get in the magazine articles or blog posts – including photos of my father at the last family reunion, seven months before he passed away; photos of the inside of the van after 2009 remodeling.

The past two years have been a tremendous time for personal growth for me – not always reflected in this blog, but often touched on in many of my posts. There have been more and more opportunities to tell my story and recently I’ve had articles on Salon.com, MyDaily.com and today on AOL.com. I’m excited for lots of reasons – because the stories drive people to the TED Global 2009 video, but more importantly, because reading the stories and watching the video sparks a conversation about what it means to be homeless and who it can happen to. The fact is, it can happen to anyone – even millionaires. If you don’t believe that ask any of the victims of the Bernard Madoff Ponzi Scheme. Overnight millionaires became penniless and even homeless.

I’ve been writing about my homeless story so much I’ve also taken time to put together a short version of the longer book, “Staying Hungry,” that I’m working on. It’s update, photos and information I haven’t written or blogged about before – so you won’t get it anywhere else on the web. I thought about giving it away, but by selling it I’m hoping I can sell enough copies to allow me more time to work on the full-length book and on the six non-profits I help support when I can. I also just started a new venture with a friend – a life-coach. We’re talking about Boundaries and other life skills to help folks as well. The free 15-minute podcasts are at: http://morethangoodadvice.com. We also offer a longer talk (40 minutes or more) for $1. It all goes to help fund our efforts at helping, supporting our continuing ventures and people like:

Tim Brownson: How to Be Rich and Happy Tim Brownson and his co-author, John Strelecki, have written a powerful book about the steps you need to take to become rich and happy – not in the traditional financial sense (although that’s certainly possible), but to begin by being happy and identifying what matters most to you. They’re giving away ONE  MILLION copies of the paperback book for free. Visit his website for more info.

Happy Tails Rescue – Rottweiler rescue and sanctuary My dog Koko has been my constant companion for the past 11 years. She came to me from my friend Toni Reita, who started and runs Happy Tail Rescue. Toni is the largest sanctuary for Rottweilers on the west coast, and possibly in the country. If you love Rottweilers and want to adopt one, or donate food, cars or cash to help feed and house them, then please visit her site.

Hope House - Shelter for minor (under age 18) girls involved in sex trafficking around the world. Hope House rescues them and gets them mental, emotional and psychological help and helps them develop skills and get the education they need to succeed.

My Orange Duffle Bag – Sam Bracken’s incredible story of survival and triumph as both a homeless and abused teen who went on to play football at Georgia Tech. His book is awesome – a work of art as well as an amazing story. Check it out.

Invisible People TV - Mark Horvath was homeless the same time I was. He travels around the USA videotaping homeless people and their stories, as well as hosting a website called http://wearevisible.com that empowers the homeless by teaching them how to set up free email, a blog and how to use twitter and Facebook to empower themselves and get a voice even though they are essentially in what seems to be a powerless position.

Stand Up For Kids - an almost entirely all-volunteer organization in 18 states. Stand Up For Kids goes out into the streets to help homeless kids and teenagers. They take the kids food and health items, help them get to the doctor and to job interviews and teach them the skills they need to get off the streets, and to graduate from school or GED programs. Amazing organization!!

If you like my story – I think you’ll like the book. $5 now.

Never say never because HOPE ALWAYS FINDS A WAY.
By that I mean never say miracles never happen. Never say “It won’t get better.” Miracles happen and it does get better. And yes, “Hope does find a way.”

Three years before that photo was taken I was living in a van in a Walmart parking lot – one of America’s invisible homeless. See my TED video here.

But I’m skipping ahead. I got to TED through a very circuitous route, one even the best writer couldn’t invent. Truth is stranger than fiction!!

Several years ago, shortly after having gotten OFF of the street (thanks to a well-timed remark by former journalist and Senior Vice President of NBC, Tim Russert) I signed up with elance.com. I began ghost writing ebooks for strangers through that site. I won a bid from a buyer who wanted me to “Write a book like Seth Godin.” I had no idea who Seth Godin was, but I Googled him, went to Barnes & Noble to spend the day reading all the books of his they had. I bought one – something about a Red Fez. And I studied his style and his voice and I wrote the ebook, made a couple hundred bucks and that was that.

I also signed up for Seth’s blog because I liked what he had to say about purple cows and business and being remarkable. Then I noticed he had some sort of contest or internship thing going on so I sent him my application and a letter and was shocked when he personally responded. The deadline had passed, but he didn’t blow me off or send a canned email. We chatted via email a few times, he seemed authentic and so when he invited readers to buy his book Tribes and sign up for a social network by the same name, only with three “i’s” (Triiibes.com) I literally scraped together my last $15 dollars or whatever and bought the book. I came so close to choosing groceries over the book, but something told me to buy the book. It changed my life.

Long story short - I thrived online in Seth’s new social media group http://triiibes.com, and I finally found the creative, passionate and authentic people and voices I’d needed for so long. One of those folks told me about a contest a friend of Seth’s was having and sent me a link to the site. I entered. Seth’s friend, Dan Pink, author of Drive, and The Adventures of Johnny Bunko (the book I wish I had written since I live my life by those six lessons) turned out to pick me as one of three finalists for the contest. The “winner” would have to get the most votes – first prize was a trip to TED Global. I was only vaguely aware of what TED was, but I urged friends to vote for me. It was a very close contest. Then, at the last minute Seth, unasked by me, stepped in and asked his readers to vote for me and I won by a landslide. Amazing. I won an all-expense paid trip to TED Global in Oxford, England courtesy of Dan Pink. Then another opportunity popped up – submit a story idea for a talk for the chance to be selected to SPEAK at TED! I was selected. The stars aligned. My friend Patty Newbold listened to me scream, “I’m speaking at TED!!!” for about 20 minutes and then promptly pushed me to write and rewrite and rewrite my speech until I had it as good as she imagined I was capable of. (I wrote it in my van of course – the one I’d been homeless in for almost 18 months).

THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THIS LONG POST!!!

The TED talk was very well received, which put me in contact with some amazing people, including Bob Poole, who introduced me recently to Tim Brownson who, along with co-author John Strelecky wrote and are giving away one million paper back books to people who are homeless, unemployed, underemployed, sick, disabled, recovering from illness or surgery or who just plain need a hand up, not a hand out. He thought we might have something in common – like helping people. We did.

By the way, if you are a charity or other organization that works with folks like that – you can get a case (or more!) of the books free – just by paying shipping charges. You can’t sell them – there’s a printed disclaimer on the book they’re not to be sold. But you can change a life by giving them away. $20 pays for a case of 60 books. Or buy a book for yourself for $25 and that $25 goes to pay for the printing of more books.

Serendipity has no end. It keeps building and building. I came home from the gym one evening and found an urgent message from Rabbi Issamar Ginzberg - who lives in Israel, but whom I met through HARO (Thank you Peter Shankman) when I responded to one of his requests for help. The Rabbi had purchased a “I Wear Your Shirt” day through I Wear Your Shirt, and he couldn’t use it. He explains all this through his blog post today – PLEASE click through and read it.

He asked if I knew anyone who could, and of course I thought of TIM!!! So the Rabbi graciously and generously GAVE his day to Tim to promote “How to Be Rich and Famous” – the giveaway to help people. I told Christina Ciani about it, Christina is an amazing writer, single mom and author of her most recent book “F-Bombs for Single Moms” (It’s not what you think, so check it out. F = Frugal, F=Fun, F = lots of things besides, well…you know.) Well, she got all excited and SHE bought a couple of cases of books and started handing them out…and then posted photos of the people she gave them to on her blog!

So, all this HELPING people is spreading…a LOT. And we need YOUR HELP to  make it spread even more. Please tweet or post any of our blogs about Tim’s book to your people, your blog, your facebook page and help us help people who truly want to change their lives. Tim’s book is fantastic – awesome and the best step-by-step method for becoming happy (and even rich) that I’ve ever read. I’m not getting paid to help distribute this book. Tim and John are paying for it out of their pocket, and all of us, the Rabbi, Christina, Tina Stull (a Christian, female drag car racer) and Stand-Up for Kids.org (helping homeless kids get off the street) are all helping get the books out there. If you don’t want to hand out books, then please donate $5, $10 or $20 to Tim’s site so we can send those organizations cases of books so THEY can give them out.

What begin as a simple request to “Write like Seth Godin” has become an amazing journey across the world to help others. Please blog, tweet and keep sharing the message of hope. I had it and look what happened! From living in a Walmart parking lot to speaking at Oxford at TED Global, to reaching thousands of people around the U.S.A  – because like I said in my talk, “HOPE ALWAYS FINDS A WAY!!”

Affection delayed is not always affection denied.

He sounds old and his voice is tired. It’s been fifteen years since I’ve heard it, but it’s definitely him.

I am caught in that melodramatic made-for-television moment where I learn that my estranged father is dying of brain cancer and I have only – days? weeks? months? – to “set things right” between us.

I have to laugh. I’m a writer, and I never would have dreamed up such a trite, overdone scenario. But here I am, actually living it. It gets better: I get the news about his cancer the day I am fired from my newspaper job. Has God moved to Hollywood?

My brother, Todd, calls, distraught. I am either incredibly calm or in total shock because I feel nothing – no grief, no anger, no sense of sadness. Nothing. “No one gets out of this alive,” I reassure him. “We all die.”

How is that reassuring? I don’t know. “He was a monster,” Todd says, “But he’s our monster,” he adds, as though that makes a difference. Maybe monsters, especially childhood ones, aren’t so frightening when they’re dying of brain cancer.

The childhood years of being beaten, of bleeding, of anger and shame and all the typical and not-so-typical physical, emotional and mental abuse are distant memories now. Thanks to therapy – years of Prozac and screaming at empty chairs in my therapist’s office – I reached “closure” years ago. Or so I thought. Maybe I haven’t.

After our last conversation in 1991, when he told me he wished I were dead and I had never been the daughter he wanted me to be, I threatened to outlive the old bastard – excuse me, the old monster- just so I could piss on his grave. I’m surprised when my brother remembers.

“I’ll stand guard for you if you still want to do that,” he says sadly. I have to think about it, I reply.

Three days later I’m in the parking lot at McDonald’s on a cell phone. “Hey old man. It’s your daughter – Becky,” I say.
“Hey Beck, how are you? You sound – good, real good,” he says. He’s in his office, working with his accountant to get his business in order so he can sell it.
“Yeah,” I smile. “I’m good. Hey, I heard you had cancer.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, they diagnosed it last week.”
I know, I’m thinking. I heard from your sister, who called everyone and told us.
“How bad?” I ask.
“Stage four,” he says. Stage four is terminal.
“That sucks,” I say matter-of-factly.
He laughs. “Yeah, it does.” There is silence for a second.
“Well, you sure swung for the fences, didn’t you? If you’re going to have it you might as well have the worse possible kind,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He laughs again. We talk about what I’m doing now. I’m a freelance medical writer, and have been for about forty-eight hours.

He’s a children’s dentist. Upon hearing that I’m now doing medical research writing, he assumes I know all the medical jargon and lingo that makes up his world. He is looking for connections, for common ground. So am I. So he launches into the medical realm of the drugs he’s taking or going to take, as though he were prescribing them to a patient rather than taking them himself. He is honest about the outcome. “They’re end-stage drugs,” he says. We both pause.

That information out of the way, our conversation turns to photography, a passion we have both shared since he began taking photos in 1969, and that I took up shortly thereafter.

At seventy-three he is dying, but in the meantime he is learning Photoshop, as I am at forty-nine. There were moments now, I remember, when we did have some good times.

We talk cameras, digital and otherwise, megapixels and burst rates, Nikon versus Canon’s latest camera-the EOS-which really kicks butt, I assure him. He likes Nikon. I begin to grieve for the losses of the past fifteen years -advice not given, requests and fears unshared. I curse Hollywood through my tears. I saw the movies, I just never got the point. Now I do, I think.

Damn. He’s going to die before I win a Pulitzer. I won’t get a chance to show him how well I did, that I succeeded in spite of his proclamation that I’d only, ‘get married, get pregnant, and have babies.” He’ll never know I really am the daughter he wanted. The regrets pour in.

I doubt he remembers any of the things that have haunted me for forty-plus years. Once the chemo treatments start he may not remember much of anything, let alone the past.

The only “story” about my father will be what remains in my mind and in my brother’s. I tell him that I’ll be coming down to see him in a week or so. We’ll have lunch or dinner-if he’d like to – and we’ll talk some more. He’d like that, he says.

After fifteen years, can I convince him of that in the time it takes to sit down to one dinner? I don’t know if we’ll even have that dinner. The chemo may prove too much. Todd was right. After all these years he’s still our monster. But now that he’s dying, I say the magic words that will transform him.

“I love you Dad.”
For the first time I hear him blush.
“I love you too.”

And we hang up.

*********

“The Monster” above, is the essay I wrote for Tim Russert, and it appears as the first story in his chapter on forgiveness in his book, “Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and Letters from Daughters and Sons”

This is the story that saved me, that I read in the summer of 2006 and reconnected with who I truly was, and am – a writer. I just reread it today and still cried. It is powerful because it is real. And real things never lose their power. This is part of what I spoke about at TED Global 2009. It’s very much a part of who I am today and who I am becoming. I hope you have a powerful story to tell and will tell it. Powerful stories change our lives.

A compass points to “true north,” leaving “east, south, and west sort of out of the picture. Unless you know how compasses work, you don’t appreciate that a compass pointing to the north is also pointing us to a southern, eastern or western direction. In other words, “True north” for the compass is determined by the magnetic pull of the earth. It’s the only way the needle can point. But by pointing to the true (really the magnetic) north, travelers can determine which way they want to go – and it’s often NOT north. When someone points to an event, an incident, a belief – they are also pointing to a direction – and by showing us one direction they make it easy for us to decide which way we want to go.

My year of being homeless was a compass. It pointed one direction, and gave me the freedom and insight to pursue other directions, but always cognizant of the “magnetic north” it pointed to.

Tomorrow, Tuesday, December 8, 2009 at 11:55 PST, I’ll be a guest on the Laura Lavigne Show. http://www.tinyurl.com/talkshow.BeckyBlanton It’s another compass – one that I hope will offer you some ideas about the direction you want to go in. Please join us and ask questions.

My interviewer is of course, Laura Lavigne! Laura is a life coach extraordinare! She says she’s blessed to “have met and / or studied under exceptional individuals such as Eckart Tolle (A New Earth), Miguel Ruiz (The Four Agreements), Barbara Sher (Wishcraft) and Michael Losier (The Law of Attraction).” She’s also a Founding Member of the International Association of Coaches.
Her book, “Pink Hair and Chocolate Cookies,” is a book about the things I love to write about – essential lessons from life’s ordinary moments.

Laura was born and raised in France and has lived in the Pacific Northwest off and on for the past 20 years. I envy her that since I love the Northwest and want to spend next summer there and FINALLY do some salmon fishing.

Anyway, Laura and I are going to talk live, just chat about van dwelling and whatever. She’s inviting people to call in with questions and I’m welcoming your calls as well. The number to dial in with questions is (347) 945-6642.

If you can’t link to the show from the link above, go here:
http://www.lauralavigne.com/TalkShowUpcomingEpisodes.html

Thanks for listening!!!

Once the TED video was posted some of my friends commented about my having finally arrived or accomplished the ultimate. Others assume that that was the “happy ending” and I returned to an easy life and lots of accolades. I didn’t. Life has pretty much been the same. I do a few radio or book interviews, but mostly my life is the same.

I work. I look for work. I “stay hungry.” That’s normal. One of the downfalls of all our technology is television. We’ve become used to “happy endings” in 30 minutes. But life is a matter of adapting, working, being grateful every day. It’s the day-to-day that keeps us healthy, alive and striving.

I’ve joined a gym, decided to lose 100 pounds, and have started working out and eating better. I’m knee deep in books about “boundaries and setting boundaries.” I’m writing, I’m working, I’m happy. TED was the beginning of so much. Not the end.

I’ve often read over the years that Olympic champions feel let down and disappointed when they finally win their gold medal. “That’s all there is? This is what I worked for?” is often the response. It’s the same when someone has achieved a weight loss, gotten a promotion, bought a house….those things aren’t the END of our efforts, they’re the beginning – the first step in the next phase of our lives. It’s what “staying hungry” is all about.

Thirty minutes ago I was panicked. After a $400 doctor’s visit, a few days in a campground and some unexpected expenses (like a couple of tanks of gas after getting lost in the Virginia countryside – at $55 a tank) I was down, literally, to about $8 until Friday. Not as bad as it has been in the past, and yes, there are millions worse off, but it made me nervous. I felt scared, worried (the gas gauge on the van doesn’t work. I have to estimate my mileage and per gallon use) and I dreaded another night in the rain because I couldn’t “afford” to head south til tomorrow.

Three nights in the rain – that’s okay. I stayed warm, I have food, but I didn’t want to HAVE to STAY here because I was out of gas. For those who think the TED video brought me fortune, think again. I’m still a working stiff. A better known working stiff, but a working stiff.

Then I got an email. My paycheck (I write regularly for hack wages for a website that loved me before I figured out I could make more $$ per hour. They earned my loyalty for being such good folks!) came through – and with $$ came freedom. Freedom to fill up my tank, to buy lunch at this wonderful Bistro whose wifi I’m snagging for free, and to head south – toward warmer weather.

The relief at getting the deposit a day early was palpable. And for a minute or two the image of the other two van-dwellers I’ve been sharing a parking lot with at both Panera (for the wifi) and Wal-Mart, flashed into my head. One of the two was in a Chinook RV. We sort of followed each other from Panera and Borders to Wal-Mart and back, and shared the back lot a couple of nights. I wondered if he/she or the other van dweller (never saw either of them, only their rigs) go through the same thing.

If you’re homeless, you depend on handouts, day jobs, social security, pan-handling, part-time jobs or selling things (flea market, thrift stores etc) for money. The last time I lived in the van I PLANNED to freelance as I am now. That fell through and I got a job. This time, I have several steady clients, my webwork and “an income” of sorts. I’m working on a book (praying for a solid advance), and while I’m not rich by any stretch of the imagination, I’m not stuck in Denver waiting on minimum wage either. It’s feast or famine, but I don’t go hungry any more. There were weeks in Denver when I went for 3-4 days without food so I’d have gas money to get to work. I’d eat whatever birthday cake or snacks co-workers brought in. I lost almost 70 pounds that year. I’ve gained most of it back. Maybe I’ll rethink the fast food this time. Definitely!

I keep thinking about the TED talk and the difference between “being homeless,” and simply living in a van. I know it is attitude. But it’s also money. It’s definitely money – because having the money gives you the attitude and the power to make choices. Being homeless is a lot about not having choices.

I talked to a guy at a gas station filling up his RV and asked if he was a “full-timer” (he was driving a very expensive RV). He laughed and said, “Yeah, we’re officially homeless now,” like it was a fun thing. And for he and his wife, it IS fun to be “houseless,” but he’s not homeless. I’m houseless, but I’m not homeless. The difference? Attitude and money and choice.

I read the comments on the TED page and see that half the people “get it” and half want to argue about whether living in a van and hiding your living situation from the world while holding down a job is homelessness or not. I want the conversation to spread – what is homelessness? What is poverty? Why do we value people based on their money, their bank accounts? Even the self-help books and Suze Orman remind us that our bank accounts and our level of debt are indicators of who we are as people. That – our self esteem, our own value – how we treat ourselves, is reflected in how much money we have. And I have to wonder about that. Is it really?

When I was a child I dreamed of being a hobo – hopping freight trains and camping, traveling around to see the country. I hopped a train to school as a child. It saved me walking 2 miles. But when a friend fell off and under the train and died, I stopped hopping trains. Later, while working for a government office as a graphic artist, I was crossing the parking lot when a slow moving train rolled through. In a skirt and heels I hopped it…just stepped up on the ladder like I’d been doing it all my life. I rode the train for a couple of long, lazy blocks, laughing at the looks I got, then stepping down when the train slowed to a stop. It was the freedom I valued, not the lifestyle. As a police officer I learned later that riding the rails is a dangerous, dangerous lifestyle. So what is it really? I think homelessness, success, life – is all about a lot of things – primarily though, it’s about freedom, and the money that we think we need, and do need, to be free in ways that matter.

How I felt about myself BEFORE the deposit, and how I felt about myself AFTER, bothers me. I should feel/think of myself the same – regardless. Why didn’t I? Is it the freedom I have because I can BUY my way wherever I’m going now that makes me feel relief? Now that I can PAY my way (gas, food etc) I’m just another traveler right?

This thing we call freedom, whether freedom of speech, freedom of movement, freedom to obtain quality medical care, what is it really that makes us homeless? Is it connection with others? I don’t know. It’s why I decided to move back into the van again. It’s an important question. Because it will help us define homelessness, and more importantly, help us find a solution. People should not have to live in tents, in cardboard boxes, in gutters and cars and storage units.

There are many, many homeless who are mentally ill, addicted, unable to work. There are more who don’t want to work, who don’t want to be responsible. Ask anyone who works with the homeless. There’s a mix. There are still more who DO want to work, who could move into a home or house or shelter IF there were affordable options. I dare any of you to afford a $900 or $1,200 apartment on minimum wage. Yet, the so-called “affordable” housing (the $450 to $800) is in crime infested areas with drugs, gangs and run-down housing. But where do services go? To the wealthy areas. The poor pay taxes, but don’t get the services.

It’s all about the money. It’s all about the freedom. It’s all about ????? What do you think it’s about? What REALLY makes you homeless? Is it not having a home/house? What if you don’t want a house? Can a van or RV or campground be a HOME? Is it about choices? Is it about a job? Money? What do you think?

Shortly after a snapping a photo of a bowl of bananas with a tag that said, obviously enough, that they were “bananas,” a friend of mine and I laughed at how silly it seemed [then] to put a tag on something so obvious. Of course they were bananas! Then I rounded the table and saw several items, like Yorkshire Pudding, and some other exotic fruits and dishes I had no idea what they were. I heard a couple of Englishmen laughing at the idea that one would need to label Yorkshire Pudding. I was immediately humbled. I had assumed the entire world knew what a banana looked like, but obviously they had assumed everyone knew what Yorkshire Pudding looked like.

How often do we assume the same in relationships, work and every aspect of our lives? I was talking to a friend yesterday about why I wouldn’t mind the cold weather when going to my storage unit. “The ground is rock and the buildings form a natural wind break,” I said, “So it will actually be quite comfortable if it’s only 60 degrees outside. She paused for a minute. “I’ve never used a storage unit so I have no idea what they’re like or what they look like.” She’s always lived in a house, or moved from house-to-house and in 60 years has never needed or been to a storage unit.

Years ago I introduced a 45-year old friend to bowling. In the upper crusts of society where she grew up she’d never been bowling, or played putt-putt golf, or eaten a baloney sandwich. The things we assume are common to everyone, aren’t. I forget that not all my friends have done or seen the things I have. As a journalist I’m lucky. I’ve been exposed to a lot of things and have sought out a lot of experiences. But when I get lazy, I assume that others share my point of view, or my knowledge.

But like the Yorkshire Pudding, I don’t know what others know. When it comes to relationships, boundaries, feelings, expressing my needs and wants, or saying “No,” I often feel like I’m looking at something on a plate that looks good, but I have no idea how to eat it or what it is. Add to that confusion the fact that we all have a different upbringing, or understanding, or background around what “generous” is, or how friendship works, or how house chores are divided up, or how to negotiate responsibilities in ambiguous situations and things can get confusing. We long for tags that say things like, “Bananas,” or that spell out how we’re supposed to act or speak or respond.

But the fact is, I understand now, there are no hard and fast rules. There are guidelines and social mores, and etiquette and so on for general situations, but there is no one writing the rule book for your life but you. And until you decide what you need, what you want, and what you’re willing to spend or take for those things – you’ll spend a lot of time not being able to understand what’s on the table.

Sometimes. like at TED, there won’t be a name tag and no one around you will know what something is. You can decide to take a chance and risk tasting the food, or the job, or the relationship and decide then if you want to continue with it.

Yes – I’m wringing every last metaphor out of this photo and event that I can – but only because it’s so true – that we depend on labels, and not so much on experience. Will a tag telling me that a banana is a banana make the fruit taste differently? I tasted the Yorkshire Pudding only because I’d read and heard the name so often I was curious about it. Just looking at it on the table I’d have passed it by.

Moral of the story: The “obvious” is only obvious to those who have experienced it. There’s really no such thing as obvious. Obvious is just shorthand for, “I know that.” Remember that and don’t forget that there’s no shame in looking for the tags, or creating your own. Tags are just maps – telling us where we’ve been, showing us what is still out there to discover.

I’ve emailed Twitter repeatedly….and get the same lame, confused response and NO account. The problem is, they want my phone number. I didn’t sign up with a phone number. I signed up online. There is NO phone number for me to “verify.” There is my email address they can send a password to. There are other things I could use to “PROVE” my identity, but no. Twitter won’t respond, can’t respond. I know they’re busy getting ready to sell TWITTER for $6 trillion dollars to Google or something, and I’m a small, invisible speck in their cosmos right now…but I really WOULD like my account and my followers back. Will you help me? Twitter this post and a request to “Give Becky her account back!” I’d appreciate it!

If you’re from TWITTER, you have all my emails to customer support. PLEASE HELP ME!!!! Thanks!