The Great Food Stamp Saga

Ok. So.

Today is my first day off in 15 days. I am dead tired and so so cranky. What I REALLY wanted to spend today doing was navigating this food stamp thing. Certainly I didn't need to have a pj and couch date with old House reruns.

But I did the responsible thing. While I've been working like a dog the past 2 weeks I got a notice in the mail that I have been accepted for food stamps. Hot damn! Mind you, I was approved for $32 whole dollars a month. I'm not exactly sure in what world that will provide ANYONE with enough money for an entire month's worth of eating... maybe I just eat a lot? But still, ok, it something!

Except the letter I received didn't explain ANYTHING. I apparently need some sort of food stamp card to use at the grocery store? Ok, great, but TELL ME THAT. So I tried to sneak off on my breaks and call the assistance line but I was on hold for longer than my break. Finally, I got through and was informed that I needed to come into the regional office. Oh ok sure. I'll  get right on that.

(Funny side note: welfare office is not set up to be convenient for people who actually have jobs.... meaning I had to wait until I had a day off to be able to make their craptastic office hours)

So today? I actually got out of bed, put on pants and a bra, and ventured into the heart of the ghetto.

Some fun highlights:

• I got onto the last bus on the journey. It was crowded, annoyingly so, and I fought my way to the back of the bus to not be as asshole and make room for people getting on an off. For a good 15 minutes I got to hear such lovely comments such as "what stinks? It smells like ass. Oh god, there is white girl on this bus" and the like.
• Walking out of the center, I was accosted by a creepy toothless man. He was babbling and hard to understand, but I think it was something like this: "hey pretty white thing. You in need? I can give you some work, make you some money. You'd be my prize"
• But the REALLY GOOD PART? I sat in the office, waiting to speak to someone about this card business, and when I finally was called, I was informed that "oh sorry, you came here for nothing... you didn't come into the office in time so we mailed  it to you" YOU MAILED IT TO ME!!? WHY DID YOU TELL ME I HAD TO COME INTO THE FREAKING OFFICE IF YOU CAN JUST MAIL THEM OUT!!?

I am SO ANNOYED.

one born every minute

Let's take this opportunity to talk about some crafts! I have two different etsy shops: one plant based and the other clothes. Lately I've been more into the plant based crafts... I think the impending spring has everything to do with that. So imagine my surprise when I check my email the other day and notice that I have sold a piece from the clothing line.

A hat. A hat I made out of bubble wrap. This hat:

I wore the outfit to a Lady Gaga concert. I can only guess that the purchase was somehow Gaga related as well. But still. Someone actually BOUGHT that. Just the hat though. And now I have this Bubblewrap dress with no hat. 

And who would wear that fabulous dress without a matching bow hat?

Regardless, thank you random Etsy shopper. Your purchase of said hat enabled me to buy both milk AND bread this week for the house, which is good, since the roommates assured me it was my turn to buy the staples.

Profile of a Foot Fetish.

At this point I thought it might be fun for you to all see a little video. At the last foot party I worked, I met a man named Jack. He had been to parties before, but I knew what he was into (not what you're thinking), and I didn't think I would be any good at it.

But one of the girls I'm friends with introduced me to him and arranged for us to do a double session. Having someone seasoned to show me the ropes, so to speak, put me at ease, and I agreed. While we waited for the session room to open up, I learned quite a bit about Jack. The most interesting tidbit, of course, was that he was on Jerry Springer a few years ago for his fetish.

So perhaps watching Jack explain it all can help you understand exactly what it is that goes on:



Make sense now? Especially when I say these guys a more than a little socially inept? Oh and because I know you're wondering: I AM NOT PRINCESS.

So there it is in true Springer fashion: not fake, really, but more than a little over the top. I certainly don't do aerobics before a foot party.

Here is the thing: Jack does love, as he puts it, 'white woman's feet'. But thats not actually the fetish he comes to the parties for. It goes a little deeper than that, which brings us to my first session with him at the last party:

Jack likes to be trampled. Hard. Which basically means he lies down and you kick the bloody shit out of him. He also wants to be called every racial slur in the book. Perhaps you understand my reservations about working with him before. Yes, he likes it, and asks for it, but I still feel a little weird about beating up a blind black man while calling him the N-word... AND THEN GETTING PAID FOR IT.

After we sessioned I was told that I needed to work on my racial slurs. I, apparently, don't know enough of them and I didn't use "any of the good ones." I.... I still don't know how to react to that statement.

But I will leave you with some interesting food for thought: Jack told the Springer show about the rest of his "white girl feet" fetish. And even the Jerry Springer show wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole.