Cancer and Philanthropy

Danielle tells me yesterday that her cousin died from cervical cancer, you know the kind that only sluts get, or at least virgins who give it up to sluts get. It’s sad because, she was only 44, and left behind 3 young, very young, children: ages 5, 3, and 1. It’s also sad because she was having perpetual bleeding and the first doctor she went to refused to do a pap smear on her. He’s like, “Oral contraceptives will stop the bleeding.” Which they didn’t. Of course, no one these days can afford insurance or health care, and women’s issues are virtually ignored.

Being the selfish, ego-centric bitch that I am, I’m thinking, “Well wonderful. I wonder how many normal paps you can have and still be in stage 2B cervical cancer. What if my so called “friable cervix” is not from endometriosis, but is because I still have cervical cancer? Well, I ruined my life anyway. Dying right around the time there is a teeny, tiny chance I might be able to get myself out of debt before I die sounds about right. Hmmm, no, I would need to get married and leave behind an infant first to make it appropriately tragic for my life.”

Then last night, I went to the fund-raising gala for Northern Sacramento Valley Girl’s Inc. I felt bad for my friend/acquaintance who is a board member because she bought a table and didn’t have it filled by last weekend. Even though she didn’t ruin her life, and is a little older than me, and in a better financial situation, her pay is utterly pathetic, and can’t imagine that she can let go of over $300 without it stinging pretty badly. She’s also had some rotten luck lately, so I wanted to support her. Then I felt guilty that, hey, I have a real job now, and if I can keep one girl off drugs or teach them to leave a domestic abuse situation, then, never mind the fact that I am $175,000 or so in debt, I mean I got my nails done and bought two headbands today, and Christmas cards, who does that!?! ahaha! I sure hope they don’t encourage anyone to borrow money to pursue a higher education though. Good Lord, and please don’t tell them it’s okay if they choose the right major. No major is the right major. Of course, music, anthropology, and library science are all useless, but even nursing and engineering aren’t very likely to pay out.

I started Saturday with almost $600. I wake up Sunday morning and balance my checkbook again, I am down to $240. I guess that still puts me in the top 1% world-wide, right? Even though my net-worth will be zero for the rest of my life, at least I have $240 today. I am filthy rich.

I had so much anxiety last night after I came home, that it took me 3 hours to fall asleep.

I still have not been able to save $400 to get my suspension fixed. I now need to worry about coming up with money for smog, registration, and insurance. Although, my dad thinks he will help me with insurance, which is good, because it is an entire paycheck.

I cancelled my trip to Mt. Shasta next weekend because what I have left will barely cover my phone bill, farm box, and another 5 yoga classes. I still cannot put in an order to Land’s End. I have been waiting to do so for almost a year.

I cancelled my trip to Point Reyes in November because I haven’t been able to replace my suspension.

I said I would not be able to segment hike any of the John Muir trail next summer because I do not expect I will have money to purchase a larger pack, nor be able to take that much time off of work.

But hey, I am moving up in the world. I bought new Christmas Cards, for the first time since 2010. I might even be able to afford stamps to mail them.

I bought new hair accessories for the first time since June.

I have nice face and skin care stuff at the moment and my acne is quite tolerable, can be covered up, and isn’t made worse with the make-up I am using.

The financial anxiety turns into shame in social situations. Either I have too much, my priorities are inappropriate, or I screwed up my life, and should have more.

My bridesmaid dress from last year won’t zip up because my boobs are too big. My best fitting bra is a 34HH at the moment. That’s a 34 L in U.S. sizing.

Maybe children magically make it so that you don’t care that you are profoundly exhausted and destitute, with boobs all over your chest and ill-fitting clothing, but I tend to think that’s not the case. I am just pessimistic, which is to say, as much as I prefer not to, I have a strong grounding in reality.