I made a very interesting discovery at work yesterday (we’re researching investigative story ideas), and if any of you readers live in NYC and spend time outside of the Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods in Union Square, you may have witnessed what I’m about to discuss: The Freegan Movement.

Freegans are people (sometimes homeless, but often not) who commit to living a life of limited participation in the conventional economy. They believe that food and shelter are a right as opposed to a privilege, and they are opposed to the fact that homeless people live on the city streets when there are vacant apartments that exist under the grip of capitalist landlords.

So they go scavenging, or “dumpster diving,” for unspoiled food that has been thrown away, and they often recover non-food items like toiletries and electronics. Freegans (a combination of the words “free” and “vegan”) essentially oppose the purchase of any item in attempt to boycott the corporations responsible for human rights violations, environmental destruction, and animal abuse.

They also often “squat” in apartments (meaning they occupy rooms that they do not own that are often decrepit or under construction), and they participate in “voluntary joblessness” as a way to speak out against America’s money driven society. They believe that work is a waste of time because it only serves to accumulate material items, that it’s ridiculous to take orders from others, and that we would be better off volunteering or spending time with family.

Crazy, right?

Some interesting facts:

- Freegans are often people who have jobs and homes, yet still choose to eat out of dumpsters. They basically exist on trash.

- Instead of fueling their cars with gasoline, they often steal discarded vegetable oil from restaurants to fill up their tanks.

- Many Freegans collect and compost human manure (a.k.a: poop!) rather than using modern plumbing systems, as they believe they are wastes of electricity and water. They create their own toilet receptacles that often contain sawdust to act as a natural biofilter.

- They often have confrontations with true homeless people, who believe that the Freegans are stealing the food and other items that they need to use in order to survive.

Being an underpaid intern, Freeganism is sounding really good right about now. I mean, I’m only a few steps from living on the streets anyway, right?

What do you think? Would you go dumpster diving for dinner?

When I have a bad day, I’ll stop by their two-story store in Union Square and buy myself an adorable will-rip-in-three-weeks-but-who-cares- because-it’s-so-adorable shirt. When I have a good day, I’ll push through the crowds on Broadway and purchase a bright sweater that 17 other girls probably have, but because it’s so bright and cute, I don’t care. Yes, Forever 21 is my fountain of cheap and trendy.

But it may also be my Bible Study Group in disguise.

What am I talking about, you ask? Well, the other day, after throwing one of their trademarked yellow shopping bags onto my bed, I happened to catch a glimpse of the underside of said bag. What I saw there stopped my spiritual- yet-vehemently-non- organized-religious heart dead.

John 3:16.

There it was, in tiny, black letters. A Bible verse. A freaking Bible verse!

Screaming for my roommate, I had her verify that what I was staring at was indeed one of the more pro-Christian verses out there.

“For God so loved the world”, John 3:16 begins, “that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Oh yeah. There’s no denying. Forever 21 is all about the Big Man Upstairs.

Apparently, stamping their bags with “evidence of faith” is not a new development for Forever 21. Don Chang, the “deeply religious” owner of the chain, began putting his favorite verse on his bags after realizing that the California fast-food restaurant In-N-Out Burger had been doing the same thing for years.

Now, I consider myself a tolerant human being, and even though I really don’t do organized religion these days, I did spend 18 or so years as a Roman Catholic, so I know that all the controversy and suffocation of big religion is often countered by beauty and acceptance. But look, I feel weird buying clothes from a store that propagates messages I don’t agree with.

Every time I buy a shirt, does Forever 21 donate money to a specific church group? To a big business or politician associated with a church? Could they be using my money for missionary practices? I don’t agree with most missionary practices. Could I actually be funding something I don’t agree with simply by buying a tank top?

So many questions, and nothing but a pile of clothes for an answer.

Help me out here, precious readers. Religious or not, I want to hear your take on this whole John 3:16 debacle. Is it no big thang, or does it freak you out?

But I only floss if I really like the guy.

That’s hardly the case for performance artist Lián Amaris Sifuentes. For three days last week, Sifuentes and her crew set up a faux bedroom in NYC’s Union Square, where she has been slowly preparing for a date in her piece called “Fashionably Late for the Relationship.”

Last Saturday, she took a nap and spent seven hours drinking a glass of wine. Last Sunday, she tried on dresses for 15 hours.

Sifuentes told the New York Times that she is trying to draw attention to the “private feminine ritual.”

I’m not impressed. Yeah, we all like to gussy ourselves up for guys. Even I own a tube or two of chapstick. But honestly, taking 72 hours to prepare for a date isn’t all that odd.

How many times have you started dreaming up outfits a week ahead of time? It’s not laborious, it’s fun. The weird part of Sifuentes’s act is that she’s going on an actual date (while there’s no word if she’s actually going on one after her charade ceases).

Who dates? Let’s face it, I could take 72 hours to get ready to go out to dinner with my grandma. The sky’s the limit.