I Invite You to Discover My Meaningful Plans

Before I can fully welcome you to this weblog, I feel it is important that you learn of my meaningful plans.

You see, I, unlike you average upper middle class postgraduate, long to contribute to the world in an effective manner. I have earned my bachelor's degree, traveled through obscure African nations, met several famous dignitaries and attended a tented summer beer-fest. I know a thing or two about this old world. These days no one can go on to wealth, acclaim and good fortune without a little bit of working for others involved. And I’m going to get my piece of this action, if it’s the last goddamned thing I do.

I have seen a million charities, and I do not think it presumptuous to say that I can rock them all. My Ivy league education has given me more skills than these charities would probably know what to do with, and my complete financial dependence on my parents means I have plenty of time to devote to such meaningful ventures, rather than worrying willy-nilly about rent, food, basic survival or any other less meaningful things. Frankly, I've always found it pretty irritating that these charities are out there sucking up all the meaning in the world, without any regard for other people, who might be more interested in large scale light installations and nude Zionist sculpture than ladling soup for cripples. I mean I clearly appreciate the important work of charities and know that they will come to play a crucial role in my meaningful plans, all I’m saying is I just think it’s pretty rich that these guys go around hogging all the meaning by making average citizens feel guilty when they fish change out of the Salvation Army pot on 83rd and Lex in order to finance a chimichanga at the Taco Bell down the street. No offense but 89 cents is not enough to buy even a sprinkling of heroin, and I definitely had plans to pay them back once I sobered up, though I forgot about it and actually just remembered that I did that right now. Still, all the dirty looks from every bell-wielding, ambiguously Asian fake Santa won’t make me feel badly about it.

Anyways I think getting involved with a charity will help me fulfill my dreams of being fulfilled, in a very fulfilling way. I want to go beyond the selfishness that is often associated with my generation, and I know that some slave time with a ladle, rubber gloves, and feigned interest will put me on the path to achieving this. I think I may skip over Salvation Army, in case any of those Asian Santas have astute memories or grudge holding tendencies, as well as any other charity that has anything to do with the homeless. I’m thinking a battered women’s shelter, or something with deaf children – you know, someplace quiet where everyone keeps to themselves.

Though honestly, my five year plan is to own my own charity. I see myself as president and CEO of My Meaningful Charity, an oasis for recent college graduates to feel good about themselves without even having to be in the same room as underprivileged children. My Meaningful Charity will give people the resources they need in order to achieve fulfillment and meaning, without the guilt and shame that comes with your average do-gooder agencies. This will be the final phase of my meaningful plans, allowing all my volunteers to participate in THC-infused sculpture sessions and candle lit yoga, all while accumulating the kind of deep sense of meaning that other charities can offer.

For now I will accept my fate and swallow my pride, cover myself in finger paint and food stamps and garner my meaning the old fashioned way. I will accumulate so much meaning, I will need to rent storage space for it, as it certainly can’t be wedged among my shelves full of important books. Once my plan is complete, my meaning will be rotund and flavorful, like a 17th century beer wench, and I will motorboat the shit out of my meaning. I will swell up with pride when others notice my abundance of meaning, and I will gleefully snub those who busy themselves with less meaningful activities, like Asian Santa dressing-upping.

Anyways I have charts. Would you like to see them?