Saturday, June 22, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
The Face of Poverty
I remember reading an article a while ago about the face of poverty in America, and it listed some pretty crazy things about what the average poverty stricken family had and didn't have. Most of them have a refrigerator, microwave and running water. Well done America, poverty doesn't look nearly as bleak as it could.
Then, there is me in Hong Kong. The depressed alcoholic I was living with had it out with me for forgetting to take out the trash one morning. Fair enough, but I apologized and you can only apologize so many times. So, I went to my room and closed the door and took a nap to escape the tirade. Later, she came and knocked on my door and wanted to have a talk with me. She said she hadn't been this unhappy since she lived with her emotionally abusive ex-husband. She was drunk and sobbing when telling me this and she wiped her eyes with a tissue and got tissue bits all over her face. I told her about the tissue on her face, as tactfully as I could, which resulted in her bursting into even more tears and telling me that's what her ex-husband would say. I don't get it. Anyway, so, soon after that I moved out. I now have a tiny shoe-box of an apartment, but at least its all my own. I love it, but when I look around I can't help but think of all the things poor people have back in the states that I don't have here. My apartment is literally a bed and a bathroom. I have no kitchen, no fridge, no internet (I'm sitting in a park with free government wifi to send this blog post). More than that, I think I would make a great hobo, within the last month I have worked out in a parking garage because of time constraints and weather conditions, I slept on a friends roof after not being able to work her spare key to get in to sleep on her couch and I know all the shopping centers that will do a courtesy charge of your phone battery. I would make a damn good hobo, is all I'm saying, take that American poverty.
Then, there is me in Hong Kong. The depressed alcoholic I was living with had it out with me for forgetting to take out the trash one morning. Fair enough, but I apologized and you can only apologize so many times. So, I went to my room and closed the door and took a nap to escape the tirade. Later, she came and knocked on my door and wanted to have a talk with me. She said she hadn't been this unhappy since she lived with her emotionally abusive ex-husband. She was drunk and sobbing when telling me this and she wiped her eyes with a tissue and got tissue bits all over her face. I told her about the tissue on her face, as tactfully as I could, which resulted in her bursting into even more tears and telling me that's what her ex-husband would say. I don't get it. Anyway, so, soon after that I moved out. I now have a tiny shoe-box of an apartment, but at least its all my own. I love it, but when I look around I can't help but think of all the things poor people have back in the states that I don't have here. My apartment is literally a bed and a bathroom. I have no kitchen, no fridge, no internet (I'm sitting in a park with free government wifi to send this blog post). More than that, I think I would make a great hobo, within the last month I have worked out in a parking garage because of time constraints and weather conditions, I slept on a friends roof after not being able to work her spare key to get in to sleep on her couch and I know all the shopping centers that will do a courtesy charge of your phone battery. I would make a damn good hobo, is all I'm saying, take that American poverty.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Champion
I'm not sure, but I think getting a trophy dropped on your head is the opposite of winning in life.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
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