Evening of Hope.

The other day CW invited a few of us to an "Evening of Hope" hosted by the organization that she'll be interning at.  I'm excited about this opportunity that she has to work with a micro-loaning organization that reachest out to the world's most poor.  We readily admit decisions to do this kind of thing is freaky.  But I like that CW has high freak factor. 

So given that this organization works with the poorest of poor, I imagined that the gathering would be pretty low-key, attended by the stereotypical people that I think do this kind of stuff.  Maybe I should have clued in when CW told us to dress casual and not sloppy (which for me by default are jeans and flip-flops).  Imagine my horror when we arrived at our destination and I exclaimed to BL (who was in the car with me), "oh shoot it's a freakin' mansion!"  Seriously it was the biggest house I ever stepped foot in, and come to think of it, we were only in the pool house.  Valet parking, open bar, fancy shmancy hors d'oeuvres...classical music even.

There were people in suits and nice dresses, which made me feel horribly ghetto and out of place.  I wish I could say I'm less shallow than I really am, but I do care when I stick out.  I need to work on this more.

I don't want to get away from what the night was about, and it wasn't about me.  I suppose the night was designed to pull heartstrings, and stir people's hearts for the poor.  The thing that gets me is that helping the poor isn't freaky until it really costs you something.  I bet you most people there could have dropped a fat check without consequence.  CW, on the other hand, leaves everything she holds dear to live five months in a country known for poverty and pickpockets.  I say that's pretty freaky.

$23 million dollars is what we found out later that estate was worth.  Man.