Misspent Values and other thoughts
2:34 p.m. - 2003-01-15

I just got back from running an errand for work, and I wanted to talk about someone I encountered on the drive.

I went to college in the same town that I currently live (and work) in, and I passed through a certain very busy intersection nearly every day. There were two homeless men that I became accustomed to seeing at that traffic light. They usually didn't stand together, and seldom were they both there at the same time. After seeing the same man day after day and having nothing to give to him, I went home, fixed two ham sandwiches with mayonnaise and grabbed a canned Dr. Pepper and took it back to the him. He seemed very grateful, and I felt wonderful for the rest of the day. (Which, looking back, makes me realize that it was more for self gratification than anything--but he WAS holding a sign that said "Hungry--God Bless.")

I'm telling this story for a reason. Today I saw the other man--the one I didn't give food to--standing on the opposite side of the intersection. He has a terrible limp (due to a war injury? an infection? a deformity? I can only speculate), and long scraggly hair and a long beard. He kept taking off his filthy basebally cap and waving it toward the vehicles that were stopped beside him. In the process of doing so, he was stumbling out into the middle of the busy highway, and I feared that he was going to be struck by an oncoming car. In the five minutes or so that it took to get through the intersection, I saw two cars roll down their window and give him change. Two cars. Out of a possible fifty. Why is that? Why do we spend our money so frivolously--$3 for a cup of coffee, $7 for a salad, $30 to go to the movies--but can't even roll down our windows to give a man who lives on the street a few pennies?

I should pause here to say that no, I didn't give him money, because I couldn't. It was impossible for me to get to him--I was coming from the opposite direction and in a turning lane. But you can bet that I will the next time that I see him.

******************** I'm home from work now, and exhausted. My fi is on his way back here from "home" (if you've read, you know where home is) where he was working on our new kitchen floor. The old floor was linoleum, and it was Very Old, and in Very bad shape. Very torn. He's such a wonderful man...I don't think I've expressed that enough in my entries. He's probably the most kind-hearted, good-natured, easiest going, lovable individual in the world. (At least in my eyes.) We've been together for five years...living together for two. We're supposed to be getting married in April, but there aren't any definite plans yet, other than that it's going to be Very Small, outdoors (on the lake, which should be absolutely gorgeous), and I have my dress already. I bought it at Hot Topic about a year and a half ago for 90 bucks. Yep. That's me. But it is beautiful, I love it, and I don't give a damn if anyone else likes it or not. I've got to start forming a few plans, I suppose. Like flowers. What flowers are in season in April? Wisteria is what I'd like to use, but I think I'd have to go pick it myself. That's perfectly fine with me, but I don't know if I could find enough... Anyway, I don't feel like thinking about it right now. I'm stopping this journal entry. Right. Now.

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I am: so very many things. A mother, a wife, a dreamer, a lover of animals and babies, a friend. I've been called a bitch, but if that's what you call someone who stands up for what they believe in and refuses to settle, then I guess the title fits.

loves: my family, horses, a full night's sleep, puppy breath, my daughter's laughter, thunderstorms, bubble baths, makeup, soft sheets, David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs, wine, massages, the written word, and sour straws.

dislikes: closed minds, depression, pimples, extreme heat, math, panic attacks, black licorice, doing laundry, white chocolate, gin, Bush.

feeling:
hopeful