Philanthropy.

Damn it. I keep pressing back on this page for some reason, and I end up losing all my posts! I could go off in a string of obscenities, but that would be a further waste of my time.

Now I have to start over.

Pre-post message to the readers:

Dear Readers,

I would like to express my gratitude for your existence. How a silly girl like me got anyone to bat an eye is truly a wonder. It would be nice to continue being gracious and eloquent, but that is really not my strong suit, I believe.

Please enjoy yourselves, and don't have a hernia.

Today, I'm going to talk about something uplifting and positive. Ooooohhh. What the hell is going on, right? Well, this was all brought upon by a certain boyfriend who took me to a certain house on Popponesset Island (in Cape Cod). What kind of people have houses in Cape Cod, on an island nonetheless? Rich people. And what do rich people talk about? Their rich exploits. In this case, their rich exploits in Alaska, Puerto Rico, Greece, blah blah, blah blah, blah blah. Don't get me wrong (I hate it when people get me wrong, hah), they're nice people, and I certainly do love them for it. But we all have to admit, the generations get more and more messed up as you go along. If your mommy and daddy are rich, you get to have everything, and everything doesn't seem like all that much. (He dares to tell me ski camp is exactly like normal camp. Except you're at Mt. Hood and skiing!)

They have no idea, do they? When I was little, I wasn't busy being bored by the spectacular view of Alaskan landscapes, or having fun sliding down mountains. I was scrounging up free food at those church festival things, and wearing hand-me-downs from almost everyone we knew. Yeah, we were blind, freaking in the dark poor.

I'm just going to plunge right in: I'm not exactly what you call a people person. Actually, I'm the irksome type who gets annoyed by everything. Certainly, I am not outgoing or friendly most of the time. In fact, I try to avoid eye contact as much as possible. To strangers, I must be like a real raging bitch. Hey, I'd rather be a raging bitch than one of those falsely nice people who only act so nice because they're fake piles of shit (i.e. a lot of people who wear those ugly i.d. bracelets).

Still, I try to hold the door. I try to say thank you. I try to be polite and courteous.

But that's not what philanthropy's all about. Don't confuse them. You can be a selfish-ass person who is polite and outgoing as hell. Trust me. I had to live with one for a few months.

Call me old-fashioned. Call me an idealist. Call me a socialist for all I care. But I think every damned kid deserves to go to Greece. I don't give a crap if he's rich or poor, he deserves to go to Greece and Puerto Rico and Japan and the moon. He deserves to have the opportunity to make something out of himself, to learn about other people, to try and connect to this horrible human breeding ground we call Earth.

And most privileged kids will never understand that they're family vacations and worry-free spending is not a God-given right.

So when I become fortunate in the financial way, (which I plan to be because I want to be a kick-ass doctor and all) I'm going to not give my kids everything they want. Maybe the world's not fair, but kids are not going to be some kind of spoon-fed, soft-skinned wimps who have no idea how to succeed as a human being. In our day and age, there's no such thing as the self-made man. I almost wish I could be poor just to show them how hard life is and how lucky they are, but I'm not crazy. No one wants to be poor.

Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that the best way (not the only way) to be a philanthropist is to make sure your kids don't become assholes. Assholes are easy to produce. They're like accidents or defaults, really. It must be a lot of work...

Random appreciation moment: My boyfriend's mommy is great because of her generosity. It is the most vast and deeply felt generosity I have ever encountered. Let us all bask in its glory and learn something from it.