I was, briefly, along with half the world, in Grand Rapids for the weekend.
I am busy deciding, mathematically, what constitutes skirt weather. (I just spelled that sckirt whether. I'm oddly proud.)
I went to an event tonight for people experiencing mid-life/mid-career crises and looking to get involved in non-profits. Never have I wished so
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It makes me feel like shit, whatever I do. There was this guy a week or two ago outside Jewel who told me he'd been kicked out of his apartment co-op for being gay/having AIDS. He had papers on them with prescriptions for AIDS meds--"funny that I'm eager to have people believe I have AIDS"--and I ended up giving him $10, for which he picked me up and kissed my cheek and told me that women, women were the best, women were going to save the world. And I grinned, thinking, yeah, I bet women actually are about a thousand times more receptive in this sort of situation, does this make me a sucker?
And then I went home and laid on the futon and cried and cried.
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I had a minor dispute with a friend a few weeks ago about giving some extra baguette and some cheese to a little girl and an older man who were out looking for food near the cathedral in Colmar. My friend didn't want to "help support the problem". The frustrating truth is, though, that it won't harm any party involved but it also won't fundamentally help fix the system, whatever the "system" is. It sort of turns you fatalistic.
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