Maybe it's because I just watched Roger & Me last night, or maybe the heat is making me cranky, but really - to say that children go hungry in the US because their parents are dumb is, quite frankly, the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Okay, maybe not the dumbest thing, but certainly naive, and reeking of priviledge.

Lots of families go hungy, not because they are too stupid, or too lazy, or don't give a shit about their kids. Truth is, for a lot of people, the American Dream is a big, fat lie. The romantic notion that the only thing standing in the way of a white picket fence and two cars in the driveway is some elbow grease and good ole fashioned ingenuity is, quite simply, bullshit. Equal opportunity for all is a nice idea on paper, but really, the playing field sure as hell isn't equal, and a small group of people have the ball, and they aren't sharing.

Imagine this, if you will:

You work at a factory, making whatever. The money is decent - you can raise your family on your income. Your family, your friends, everyone works there. Whatever industry this factory is in, it is the only game in town. Every other business serve the employees of the factory. The grocery stores, the retail stores, the car lots, the real estate agents, the restaurants, all make their money from the factory's wages. So then, the layoffs start. A couple thousand people in one day. Then a couple thousand more. Then a few more, for good measure. The great thing is, you aren't being laid off because business is bad, but instead because your company realized that they can pay people in Mexico 70 cents an hour to do your job! What a great deal!

There are only a couple hundred jobs to be found, so the rest get unemployment. Frightened that people will start to leave town to find better jobs, the local government tells people not to worry, the job market will pick up, it will be okay. But it's not okay. Soon people realize that the jobs they found making half what they made at the factory don't pay their rent. Unemployment will maybe cover your mortgage, or your bills, but not both. The local economy becomes depressed, retailers start losing their businesses. More and more stores close, and more and more people become unemployed. Crime goes up - way up, depressing the economy even more. You can't sell your house, because the market is for shit. Your trapped with a mortgage you can no longer afford. You can either pay your rent or feed your kids, but if you don't pay your rent, you'll get evicted and won't be able to feed them anyways. Your choice is either to abandon your house, and hope you can find a job elsewhere, or wait till the bank forecloses and you end up on the street. You can't get unemployment if you move out of state to try and find a job, even if you could afford the expenses of moving. Then again, you can't get unemployment if you live in a cardboard box, either, so whichever way you look, you're screwed. You can't borrow money from your friends or family to help you get back on your feet, because they all lost their jobs, too, and are facing the same thing.

Everyone knows, though, that the only reason your kids are going to school hungry is because you are dumb. Yeah, right, whatever.

Yay! My Dad is coming to town! Wheee! I haven't seen him in ages, like a year and a half. Unfortunately, it isn't under the best of circumstances, because my Aunt is very, very ill. Yet still, I cannot help but be excited to get a chance to see him. :)

Wheeeee! It's Christmas in June!

Anyone who works in retail knows that Christmas starts, oh, just about now. Actually, it starts in January, when the majority of the Christmas orders are placed at the January shows. Then, in June, the orders start to arrive. They pretty much keep arriving for the next six months or so. So, here I am, in the sweltering heat of summer, pricing Christmas ornaments. This makes me an interesting combination of giddy and disgruntled, as I stare at my eight millionth cherub of the day. My hand is starting to form a twisted claw from gripping the pricing gun, and I have sparkles in my hair.

Sir! The peasants are revolting!

Yes, and they smell, too.

This last week has kind of sucked. We have been very impatiently waiting for my husband's paycheque to arrive. This absurd comedy of errors would be a lot more amusing to watch if we hadn't been too poor for popcorn. First, they can't get the direct deposit set up on time. Then, they courier an envelope, but forget to put the cheque in. So, tonight, finally, we get one cheque, for the consulting work he did before he was hired on full time at the company. Apparently payroll didn't realize he was actually a salaried employee now, and didn't make up a paycheque for him. Supposedly we will get it tomorrow. I would start to worry that this was some ingenious money saving venture and the company was about to go down the tubes, but they have always been very reliable with his cheques in the past. So, for over a week now, I have been wandering around the apartment aimlessly, doing a stunning version of Edina from Ab Fab, muttering; "Poor? Poor!"

To top it off, the hot water heater went out in our building yesterday morning. We haven't had hot water for two days, and they promise that we might have it sometime tomorrow morning. So now I am broke and smelly. :P

*sigh*

Do you ever get the sneaking suspicion that you have become really, really boring? I haven't been blogging much at all lately, because I haven't had much to say. For those who know me, you know how odd this is. I always have something to say!

So what the hell happened? When did I become so incredibly dull that my own musings bore the crap out of me? I used to be interesting. I used to dye my hair purple and go out dancing all night long, dressed in PVC hot pants and clinging to the bars of a makeshift cage. I used to go on impromptu road trips and splash around in fountains. I used to argue about philosophy until all hours of the morning, and rant about stuff I read the in the newspaper as though it actually mattered.

I am sitting here, wearing my emily t-shirt, emblazoned with the words "sixteen and gothic" and I have realized that I am no longer either. (Well, duh. :P) The thing is, I realize that we grow up, and it's not really my lost youth that I am mourning. (Okay, not much.) The accessories I have acquired throughout this life, my tattoos, my piercings, don't define me any more than my shaved head or my black lipstick did. It's okay that I am married now, and have a job, and can no longer go dancing on a Wednesday. It's okay that my road trips are mostly planned, and my black leather studded dog collar is in retirement. I can say with certainty that I like where I am, it's a nice place, and the view is pretty.

The thing is, where I was, wasn't really all that radical. Goth started before I was even born, and certainly wasn't new by the time I stumbled upon it sixteen years later. Being a disenchanted and disenfranchised university student sure as hell wasn't the cutting edge. Blue hair does not a revolution make. I am more radical now as I rapidly approach thirty than I ever was in my misspent youth. I learned how to think, and even more important, how to act, and my politics are no longer a fashion statement and a handy dating tool. So why am I so easily dismissed? Just another chick who got married and got boring. God, she probably even votes!

When did I become invisible?

I wear a disguise
I'm not just your average jane
The super doesn't stand for model
But that doesn't mean I'm plain
If all you see is how I look
You miss the superchick within
And I christen you titanic underestimate and swim
I've got the rifle gonna be myself

I'll be everything that I want to be
I am confidence in insecurity
I am a voice yet waiting to be heard
I'll shoot the shot bang that you hear round the world
I'm a one girl revolution

Some people see the revolution but most only see the girl
I can lose my hard earned freedom if my fear defines my world
I declare my independence from the critics and their stones
I can find my revolution I can learn to stand alone...

I'll be everything that I want to be
I am confidence in insecurity
I am a voice yet waiting to be heard
I'll shoot the shot bang that you hear round the world
I'm a one girl revolution

~Superchic(k), One Girl Revolution

Is there anyone out there who doesn't know how much I love Ani DiFranco? In a completely relaxed, non fangirl type of way, of course. I've been trying to get my Mom into her by sneaking a couple of Ani tracks onto each folk CD I make for her.

The first time I heard Ani DiFranco, I was hanging out on Arlington, in the (very scary) apartment of a guy I dated very briefly my first year of university. He wasn't home, and I was hanging out, listening to CD's with his roommate, when he mentioned this singer he thought I would really like. So we listened to Ani all afternoon, and it was like I had discovered the most amazing secret. Then, brimming with our secret knowledge, we scampered off to the park to splash around in the fountain and make a spectacle of ourselves.

You know, in retrospect he was a lot cooler than my boyfriend.

This has been the worst month ever. Everyone one I know is either sick, dying or has a relative who is. Even my Mother's dog died.

Can I just crawl under a big damn rock until it's over?