8:44 AM — Being Poor I knew a woman who was younger than myself and had two children. Her boyfriend, not the kids' father, was getting in fist fights with her (not the children or I'd've called the cops), but she couldn't leave him because they were all living at his father's house. These things make me want to cry. And yet, that's still better than what many refugees from the Gulf Coast have.  ¶ permalink | 0 musings