i am real pissed off. you know how i am trying to collect money to
send to jozsi, for his sick wife, to be able to survive the next
difficult months, all that. and you know how i said i was willing to
humiliate myself to do this, me and my stupid hungarian pride, like a
ball in my throat. so i humiliated myself, i called up the mother of
one of my best friends. he ain't rich, he's a dancer. he lives in
japan now. but his parents are filthy with it, sitting on millions, i
ain't kidding. i know his parents, i have been friends with him for
30 yrs. everytime he comes to town i get dragged over there, or out
for dim sum, with his mother.
so i call up his mother. and explain. and apologize. and tell her
what i am doing and why. blablablabla. i really felt weird. but they
have so much. so would you help, i ask. and i apologize some more for
asking. sure she says, don't worry, i understand. i will send you a
check, she says.
so i wait, for whatever, a week or so, for the check to get here. and
fantasize about that little bit of happiness i can make.
and today it arrives. it's a check for 20 bucks. when i saw it i
almost burst into tears. but then i got pissed off instead.
those of my friends who have nothing, send me 20 bucks. and to them i
am grateful. cause for my friends, that is a lot. from my friends
that is a fortune,
from these rich assholes, it is an insult. may they rot in their
waterfront mansion.
<shrug>... i guess i am getting over it now.
in any case, thanks to someone, i have the grandfather fund taken
care of until at least september. and the houseguest i have had for
the last week contributed some, and he don't have much either. and
annie is coming over and she will bring something too. and another
person wants to contribute from her severance pay. so i *will* get
help to jozsi, it's just a matter of time, goddamm it.
i called jozsi to tell him, you know, so much despair. i said, just
hang on a bit, me and my friends, we know what it's like, we'll help.
-e
> > fuck the rich
>>
>> i hate them all
>
>I couldn't think of anything short to say to this, ef.
>
>Except: yeah. No doubt. Etc.
>
>I'm trying to write this piece on Johnnie Tillmon. A tribute to her life
>and works. She was a welfare activist who died a couple years back.
>Nobody cared, really.
>
>I care, of course. Tillmon meant a lot to me. I once took an essay of
>hers, "Welfare Is A Women's Issue," into a classroom at a prestigious
>university, where I was pursuing my doctoral degree. The other students
>argued that Tillmon's work didn't belong in a theory class. They said
>what she wrote wasn't "theory." One of them, another Latina, went as far
>as to accuse me of making the course "anti-intellectual." Gack.
>
>Writing this piece, or trying to write it, is hard for me. I'm too close
>to it. I read stuff about welfare reform in the 1960s, and remember my
>mother -- how outraged she was when they tried to get her to have a car,
>because it meant staying on welfare several more years. And other stuff
>like that. Like how disappointed she was when I ended up on welfare,
>after I dropped out of high school, then got married and pregnant and
>divorced the first time. I was 15, when I dropped out of school; 19 when
>I got married; 20 when I got divorced. Or 21?
>
>I can't remember anymore what changes, what doesn't. Or whose fault it
>is.
>
>Nowhere to place the blame, exactly. So I end up just hating everything.
>
>Canela
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.1.2 : Sun Nov 18 2001 - 12:13:00 PST