SHORT STORIES
“I would like to thank you all..”
There was a time when I was well on my way to becoming a Nobel peace prize winning ecoconscious citisen. I lived my life in the midst of a decaying world where it appeared as though no one was aware of the pollution and displacement of wildlife from our park areas and the like.
I awoke each morning with the ferver of a person on the verge of revolutionary ideas, my mind in a constant frenzy on how exactly we can clean our air and streets of the pollutants that abound us all around. It was about this time that I met Marge, who was my equal in this area. We met at a “Rid the city of Pollutants rally”; she dressed in hemp clothing head to toe as I stood in my cotton shirt and denim jeans.
“Hey, wanna grab some coffee?” She asked neatly folding pamphlets and placing them gingerly in her hemp shoulder bag.
I wasn’t really in the mood for coffee, it agitated my already hyper nature but was willing to have a sit down with Marge to further discuss the following week’s plans, so I nodded my head in affirmation, my curls flopping to and fro around my face.
My mind began to wander to its familiar place of fantasizing of the day that I would stand before a large group of people to accept my Nobel peace prize. I repeated the speech in my mind; “I am quite astonished to be standing before you all today. I never dreamed this day would come, but these are the things that happen when one designs their life in such a way that others are thought of first… The many years that I have spent freeing dolphins from nets and designing city recycling plans have caught up with me now and I, so gladly, accept this…”
“Where shall we go?” Marge asked, rearranging her shoulder bag.
“Oh, there’s this place I always frequent. It’s just about a block from here.” I said, smiling, my hands still in midpose accepting its unseen prize.
“…and so I stand here today, thanking you all for the many pleasures that I have enjoyed of freeing this planet from its destruction and bringing about world peace in the process…” Hmm, lovely.
“Is this the place?” Marge asked stopping in front of a coffee shop.
“Uh huh.” I answered my mind in mid thought.
Marge surveyed the room with a watchful eye, spotting an empty table somewhere in the back. As she headed toward the table I called out to her, “What would you like?”
“Oh, Im fine.” She said, over her shoulder.
So, I found myself alone at the counter, my eyes scanning the menu. Hmm..bagles, muffins, donuts, coffee, tea…so many choises. When I had made my selection I joined Marge at the small table, coffee and sandwhich in hand.
“So, what did you think of the rally?” I asked in mid bite.
Marge smiled at me with the patience of a mother and began, “Well, I was asked to speak with you…”
I looked at her from over my sandwhich, one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?” I asked, wiping the crumbs from my face.
“Well, it has come to the group’s attention that you are…well, you just arent recycling.”
“What do you mean?” I asked puzzled. “I recycle. Why just today…”
She reached into her bag and withdrew several large black and white prints. “Well, here…you were seen a week ago littering on Long Beach Blvd in the midst of a group of small school children exiting a bus…and here you are, seen etching your tag name ‘Pollutant’ on a city bus bench while your 1974 unlicensed, unsmogged Pinto sits not but two feet from where you stand.” She looked at me, her eyes nearly tearing up. “And this place…” she waved an arm across the expanse of the room. “They don’t even recycle.” It was at this point that she began to blubber.
I handed her a Kleenex and stared at the incriminating evidence spread across the table.
“Even the pamphlets you had made for today’s rally, they werent even made on recycled paper.” She pointed out, sadly shaking her head. “Im sorry, but the group has asked that you step down and join the lower ranks of posting flyers around the city to announce further rallies.” She said, resolutely, standing up.
“But, but, but…” I stuttered. “My Nobel Peace Prize…”
She held a hand up to me and pointed at my sandwhich, “You’re even eating a tuna sandwhich for god’s sakes. Its like you just don’t even care…” She said, and the tears began to well up again as she took her exit.
11/02
ESSAYS
What My Parents Taught Me
When one is growing up one doesn’t necessarily sit and ponder their existence or ask why things are the way they are, one simply exists and accepts it as fate or some such thing. By the same token, when one is growing up one doesn’t necessarily see oneself as living a life that is somehow different from others, until it is shown to them that they are different by some set of arbitrary standards.
I, like many others, simply lived my life seeing myself as no different from others. I wandered about in a cloud of constant wonderment, stopping many, many times to smell the roses, so often in fact that from time to time I was late. Late in blooming. Late in kissing for the first time. Late in developing wisdom teeth – on and on. But, that was just how I did things. I thought a lot about oddities – things that appeared to be different but were somehow beautiful. Perhaps I was conditioned this way.
My mother was a Beatnik. I don’t like giving her a title, but she was, for all intents and purposes, a Beatnik and I loved her for it. She was always on the go, experiencing things – good or bad – that was my mother. She was so into experiencing things that she often forgot to wear a bra, or her shirt was on inside out…but she was moving! My mother lived and I learned to see the world through her eyes.
My father on the other hand, lived a life of constant apology. Not necessarily an apology for his own existence, but instead for the well wishing of opinions my mother shared with the world. My father was always one step behind her, his head bowed and a look of constant apology on his face. I don’t mean that my father was the passive sort. Not at all. He was not only in constant apology for my mother’s off the wall actions such as stealing of bras from Victoria’s Secret; no, he was living his life under complete anger management. Something about dodging bullets in Viet Nam and picket lines in the States stirred something in my father that was no less than rage.
Enough of the fun times and onto the educational era of Marie’s life. It was an evening event that was shared by many in the Marie household. It was an evening that sparked lively conversation and large cups of iced tea. A book on father’s lap, an opinion on the lips of mother and attentive ears of the audience that sat, ever-present, on the living room floor. It wasn’t meant to be argumentative, oh no. Father had merely decided to share the learning of his Philosophy of Religions class with the family. How strange it was to hear him say that the table may not be real! How the thoughts began to roll in my little head as my mother began to argue that of course the table is real. But, my father could not argue scientifically with her on this point, my mother, who was well versed in classical physics, argued demonstratively that the table was THERE! The argument lasted well into the night.
Nights of debate, nights of wonderment of existing tables, Victoria Secret’s bras and bottles of Ibuprofen stuffed well into the pocket of the maternal figure…oh how the memories flow… these are the things that Marie is made of.
Conquering Reality
Every part of me wants to say, “There IS a spoon!” but now I know that it will never matter what theories we may draw. No amount of mathematical theories and philosophies will matter even if you and I tend to agree on them, because we are simply the same being choosing to view this version of our reality in a similar way.
We can agree on a measuring system and develop labels for the abstract to make sense of the reality that our collective conscious has decided to see, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Our world is much like the two dimensional pictures at the mall, our eyes adjust to view it the way we choose to and it doesn’t change it from being what it is. No matter if we move things about or choose to view it the way that we do, it is still a two dimensional picture.
After all is said and done I am only left with the idea that reality may be drawn from what it is that motivates me to believe that I do indeed exist. What is it that stimulates my five senses? Energy. If I were to develop a theory of my existence based on this one concept of energy I could possibly come to: it is energy that flows through out the universe and gives life to all that dwells within this system. It is bound by the laws of physics and exists within a self-sustaining universe, unaffected by outside influence.
But, of course this is all suspect as well.
My warped sense of reality has kept me up and haunts my dreams. I now see the darkness that is reality.
I am that darkness.
8/02
A Step toward understading
After having given much thought to our discussions in the past I cant help but come to the conclusion that really, even our own belief system is suspect as it derives all of its ideas from faulty variables. Even those that are repeatable and its outcomes the same each and every time…even those are based on faulty variables as we view this world through our biases.
This drives me into a state of confusion and defeatism. I am only sure of one thing at this point and that is that we are indeed, all connected as life stems from life and can not spontaneously manifest itself from nothing. Life gives life and in its ‘death’ gives life, or changes form…returning to itself.
“The infinite is below, above, behind, before, to the right, to the
left. I am all this. This Infinite is the Self. The Self is below, above, behind, before, to the right, to the left. I am all this. One who knows, meditates upon, and realizes the truth of the Self-such an one delights in the Self, revels in the Self, rejoices in the Self. He becomes master of himself, and master of all the worlds. Slaves are they who know not this truth.
“He who knows, meditates upon, and realizes this truth of the Self,
finds that in everything-primal energy, ether, fire, water, and all other elements-mind, will, speech, sacred hymns and scriptures-indeed the whole universe-issues forth from it.
“It is written: He who has realized eternal Truth does not see death,
nor illness, nor pain; he sees everything as the Self, and obtains all.
“The Self is one, and it has become all things.
“When the senses are purified, the heart is purified; when the heart is
purified, there is constant and unceasing remembrance of the Self; when
there is constant remembering of the Self, all bonds are loosed and
freedom is attained.”
Conversation between Sanatkumara and Narada, The Upanishads
So when something dies it simply returns to itself! It never really
leaves!!
I could be content with this theory of energy and origins of life if the idea of free will didn’t wander into my brain. When this happens I am left with the doubts of my actual role here. Do I posess intelligence? DO I have free will?
We have agreed that Free will is based on the assumption that we can choose from outside of the options available to us or that the options are endless as well as our abilities to perform them. That we are actually helpless to react and act on those things that we are capable of doing given our environment, biology and options.
Everything tells me that this universe is a closed system and that every action I perform was a reaction to a previous action. I know this… but somewhere inside of me my ego is saying…BUT… BUT… BUT… intelligence matters!! Surely not even my THOUGHTS are part of this closed system. Surely my thoughts can not be reduced to chemical impulses in the brain! Call it collective consciousness if you must, but surely even as I sit here, knowing this, it still comes back to the idea of predeterminism. For if we are all connected and every action is a reaction to another action, then surely even my thoughts are not really my own.
But, that’s my ego for you. Everything I experience in this world is processed by this thinking machine of mine. Everything is boiled down to perception, and reality lies somewhere beyond that.
Damn. So am I really a sapient being? Can I say that I am a sapient being guided by faith? The idea of intelligence being guided by faith is really a social idea. Not really a scientific idea, but really even social ideas could probably be boiled down to science also. Oh, but such a sterile non-loving world that would be, eh? Even our feelings of love can be explained away through science if we care to do so. And then…well, then we are really just animals working together to further populate our planet and then…well, then…We serve no other purpose but to survive and all of the romanticism behind our existence is washed away like so much… matter. Call me a romantic, but that, for me, is not enough.
This led me to thinking of the soul and where it originates, because really, this IS the ultimate question, isn’t? Does it exist? Where does it retreat to? What is its function? Who owns this soul… and you know what? I haven’t the slightest clue from where it originates ! But, I suppose I can speculate. That’s really all any of us can do.
So I was thinking back, connecting theory with theory, and came to the conclusion that if the universe is indeed a closed system then the soul would have to be that which remains true through out time and connects us all. So can we then say that the soul is energy? Possibly.
Giving a person a soul is like giving them life. It connects them to something infinite and that’s really what we want, enit? To be made to feel as though we matter? That this isnt all there is? That we are more?
So this leads us to the concept of Self Realization, I suppose. Wrapping it all up and trying to make sense of it all. We have learned that the universe does not run on ego and it’s sure in its purpose and duty. Certainly its attributes are omnipotence, omniscience and omnipresence. These ideas lead to your idea of Godhood. Im still not entirely sure as to what you mean by that, unless you are saying that God IS the universe. I suppose one would need to define “God”.
If God is free from ego and he is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent then one COULD say that God is the universe. So in order to obtain this state of being on must obtain the ability to release oneself from the bias that we have from watching the world through two eyes and one brain. To think as God might. Something that can think without needs, which would therefore free it from biases. Something that can think without a place of origin, so that it can see every direction, so that there is no “center”. Something that can know all things, so that there is no “speculation.”
I am often asked, “Why does it matter? Why do you make it matter?” I answer, “I search and I search because every part of me believes that when searching for happiness one must do as searching for Truth and choose to concentrate on the items which are shared amongst the two.”
11/02
Conquering Dualities
The act of understanding that there is but One, without a second, and that our consciousness creates the world around us changes absolutely everything causing you to, at first, become disoriented, then a bit angry, and then…finally, in awe.
I’m having a difficult time organizing my thoughts regarding this. It seems as though words are constantly getting in the way of the meaning that I am trying to project. Every thought that is in my mind is complete but it seems to lack the words to explain it well
I’ve been thinking about dualities and have begun to think that maybe there really are no dualities outside of the ones that consciousness itself creates. 😕 Ideas such as time, beginnings/endings, good/bad, heaven/hell…these dualities make little sense to me, for if there is but ONE consciousness, One being then how can there be its opposite?
An important step towards understanding this idea of non-polarity I suppose would be to understand that there is but one consciousness, even where it appears as though there are many. According to monistic idealism the subject in a subject-object experience is the same consciousness that creates the illusion of the object; implying that consciousness is unitive. I believe this to be true. We experience this during meditation. While we meditate we are able to surpass the seeming duality of realities as we pass maya and enter the transcendental realm. 🙂 So, ideally, once understanding that consicousness is unitive then one begins to question these ideas of polarities or dichotomies.
Beginnings/endings…good/evil, here and there…we’ve polarized these ideas when really they are but a completion of the whole. Where is ‘here’? Where is ‘there’? Do locations even exist? If there is but One then we are simply everywhere! Good/evil, heaven/hell, here/there, all these are connected, though one doesn’t notice or appreciate that right away. If there is but one unitive consciousness and polarities do not exist then surely none of these ideas exist either.
Lets take that to its logical end. Should our immanent consciousness create this material world set before us then all things within it are to be questioned. They become subjective. Really, outside of our minds good and evil do not exist. We, through our egos, personalize these ideas and acts set upon us by others and process them as bad.
The concept of Heaven/Hell is an attachment to the ideas of good/evil and here/there. The purpose of a heaven or hell is to create an eternal dwelling place for those who lived their lives on either side of the good/bad equation. Should good and evil not exist, then what need for a heaven or hell? Heaven and hell are possibly illusory, but should they exist they would need to exist simultaneously in the here and now for the same reasons that location is illusory as is time. For if all things are connected then nothing can be separate, but instead a completion of the whole.
I am reminded of an explanation to me regarding SIN waves. Should we see the completion of the cycle we would see its mirror image. What we see as beginning and ending is but a misconception for we can not see that the same thing is occuring on its opposite side.
The idea of all things being balanced in the universe is so absolutely true, but not so much for the reasons of needing opposites. No, instead it is because all things are circular (as said in regards to SIN waves ). What we consider to be an opposite really isn’t, it is its counterpart and it completes the object or idea.
Im having difficulty conversing with anyone these days regarding anything else aside from this topic and it’s alienating me and I fear I may have fallen into or have been swallowed into an abyss.
12/02
Another Holdiday Adventure
Was thinking back to past holidays with family. Always an adventure I suppose when you gather two families who are such opposites that you wonder whether or not they come from separate planets.
My parents will not be about this year for christmas but I have the luxury of choosing to be with my mother’s family this holiday. Now, let me tell you something about my mother’s family…they’re odd. I dont just mean that they are slightly eccentric in such a way that makes them appear interesting…I mean they are…odd.
My grandmother, never one to let a soul in her kitchen is slowly but surely loosing her sight, which is of course a tragedy..but I wish she would let someone help her in the kitchen. At times like these when there is family about she is never quite sure who is where, so I manage to make my way into her kitchen unawares. I remember one year she was making a turkey and with her beginning loss of sensory perception she was unaware of the smoking oven. No, she was not smoking a turkey but instead it had caught fire. I had no idea how to put out a flaming turkey. I really didnt. At the hospital where I had worked, when training for fire removal the subject of flaming turkeys simply did not come up.
So, I carefully moved my 4′ 10″ grandmother aside and threw flour on the bird. You’d be astonished what flour on a grease fire will do. More smoke billowed up around the 20 pound bird and my grandmother’s shrill voice came to visit my ear, “What the hell are you doing, Rhea? What the hell is that smell?” Now, if my grandmother could smell this you know it had to be pretty bad. “Nothing grandma, just a little grease dripping on the oven.” I had no clue as to what I should do so I threw some salt on the fire. Nothing, but I could hear voices emmanating from the living room, “What the hell is going on in there?” Course no one made their way into the kitchen to help…
Eventually I threw some water on the turkey and pulled it out of the oven. We had salty, flour coated, burnt on the outside slightly pink on the inside turkey.
Now, my family is odd as I have said, being Inuits, they grunt whilst eating. There is nothing more appealing than sitting at a table with slightly intoxicated inuits grunting and speaking while eating. Nothing. Nothing at all. Now, I may grunt softly, I dont know. I dont normally record myself eating, but I do know this for sure…I dont speak with food in my mouth. Ever. I think its a disgusting habit.
The table was dressed in lumpy brown gravy due to grandma’s inability to see properly, baked ham with cranberries instead of cherries because, again she couldnt tell which can she was opening, stuffing that was partially moist and partially dry, mashed potatoes that she reluctantly allowed me to make once I saved the flaming turkey and creamed corn that my father brought. Oh!! And I forgot, stuffing balls that my aunt brings every year that every year no one manages to eat. I believe the name she has given them is part of the cause, but not entirely… Buffalo Turds. Who in God’s name terms their food after fecal matter? My aunt, thats who.
And so after the feast was through we all ventured into the living room where my uncle played, for the bazillionth time, a video of the occupation of alaska. Now, I ask you, who plays a video of the worst time in a persons life on a holiday? Who? I’ll tell you, my aunt’s husband. Possibly he believes this shows he is in touch with grandma’s pain? I dont know, but anyhow, we sat around watching that, drinking more beer than our bellies should have had room for and then one by one they all began to fall asleep.
So there you have it, a flaming bird, beer, grunting and occupation of alaska. Merry christmas and each and every one of us Inuits.
11/02
MISC.
“i want an uncle named chuchi”
you know, everyone seems to have these family members with these quirky little nicknames like, ‘sam the gimbo’, ‘long legs slim’, or even ‘fast legs eddie’. I just want an uncle named, ‘chuchi’. i have no idea what the name means or what it’s supposed to be short for, but i think it’s kind of a cool little name.
“hey, this is my uncle chuchi.” i would say and uncle chuchi, with his one squinted eye, one leg shorter than the other due to a bouncing betty in ‘nam, would lean forward, pushing back his frizz of slowly fading black hair and say in a gruffy voice, “hey, girl, whatcha been up to, huh? no good, i bet. well, lemme tells ya, bad behaviour only ever leads to two things… bare foot and pregnant by the time you’re 20 or dancy naked in nudie bars and with boyfriends named moe. neither is good. ya got yer whole life ahead of ya, kid. now git outta here before i smack ya.” And then he would wink, slap some money in my hand to buy a candy bar, give me a shove and say, “tell yer ma I said hey and to give me a ring once in a while. I almost forgot i hadda sister.”
all my girl friends would think he was leering but it’s only because he had a lazy eye and all my male friends would think he’s in the mob, but really he’s a good guy with a metal plate in his head due to shrapnel in ‘nam. see, he’s an uncle with a past.
sometimes he crawls on his belly in the livingroom reliving nightmares from ‘nam. other times he’s cooking up spaghetti from scratch, not the can, in the kitchen and impressing blonde women with large breasts, real, not from the hack shop (uncle chuchi’s term for plastic surgery clinics).
family members wouldn’t understand the hidden meanings in uncle chuchi’s clouded wording, but i would cause I helped uncle chuchi when he returned from hospital. I was the one that wheeled him around the yard after his third leg operation and he would tell me of the smokey poker games he and the guys would play in the barracks while blasting music over the sound of gunfire.
this was my only way to understand my father who still relived the nightmare for years and years after ‘nam.
uncle chuchi would have been the one to tell me, “you listen to your old man. he’s a good man. he’d have to be to put up with my sister. you dont know what it’s like to live with a woman who drools and mumbles in her sleep and when she sleep walks thinks she’s marilyn monroe. you respect that father of yours. he’s one of the good ones.”
and i would said, ‘of course, uncle chuchi.” And then try not to notice when i caught him scratching himself in public, cause that’s just the way uncle chuchi was.
Weekend Plans are as follows:
1. Must plan escape route to Mexico or other foreign country before family arrives from Arizona, as sure to be lectured once more regarding pitiful shackled soul.
2. Must spend self into debt to retile kitchen floor
3. Must catch up on educating shrinking mind to save self from miraculously falling into ignorant oblivion (though not really a bad idea )
4. Add list of dreams to dream journal so as to keep with dream journal tradition
5. Must lock self in room minus internet. Lock all doors and attach self to chair and keyboard to write blockbuster book of the century if there is such a thing.
6. Must rip out every shred of old plumbing and start anew before house becomes house boat and am sailed off to sea (though not really a bad idea )
7. In thinking back am beginning to think that maybe retiling floor and ripping out plumbing is bad idea and should just pitch a tent in nearby park and sleep under trees.
8. Once tent is set in park will invariably be attacked by wildlife as nearby park is actually a wildlife preserve and should really rethink plan of nature living as not really a fit survivalist.
9. Tent is down and now must think of new homelife…possibly living in car is better idea as it has wheels and can actually travel.
10. Car living is not the way to go as it is too costly on gasoline, maybe should just live in house.
11/02
Weekend Plans
1. Must rid house of excess furniture as plan to live
a comfortable life of near nihilism
2. Prune trees before city decides to declare living
area a wildlife reserve
3. Travel across town to office so as to install new
phone system and check for FBI bugs and other pesky
unnecessary probes into personal life
4. Develop system whereby phones can travel without
costing a cent and still be functional (doubt this is
a possiblity but willing to give it a go)
5. become chef proper and prepare orgasmically sound
meal for lecture taking place in Los Angeles where
will entertain a large crowd with the sumptuous meal
and poetry (if they dont like poetry can always have
separate ‘special’ meal stashed a side)
6. Devise plan as to where money magically appears in
bank account with little to no effort on my part
(heard this can be done, still need to find out how )
7. Begin organization of traveling plans for following
week. Was told weather is lovely in Arizona this time
of year. Hope will not wilt like flower in heat.
8. Window installation done, now need to take care of
plumbing needs. Last weeks endeavor of eradication of
reptillian sewer dweller was not successful, will need
to organize game plan with several participants as
heard strange noise arising from sink and bath tub
drain.
9. Must ponder meaning of life so as to activate life
long goal of nobel peace prize winning philosopher by
age of 40. This is quite easy to achieve if one is
willing to throw reason and meaning out the window and
fly by the seat of one’s pants.
10. Will call parents and see if they are still aware
of my existence.
11. Will become functional part of society and leave
internet business to internet as am sure it can
survive with little to no Marie involvement.
12. Must destroy all machines that unnecessarily
monitor the useless idea of time, as plan to live by
seat of pants (was told pants are highly evolved, at
least more so than ‘thinking’ folks)
11/02
I have an eventful weekend planned:
1) Will wait through long excrutiating hours of plumbing installation followed by tile installation in landlords effort to increase value of property, though have told her repeatedly that plumbing will only disturb the mighty reptile dwelling in los angeles sewage system. Her look of disdain did nothing for my ego.
2) Will inevitably bore self to sleep with books on mathematics in preparation for placement test, though placement tests are a bit frivolous as I do not respond well under pressure. Will most likely be searching for stand in for placement test so as to appear successful in school administrations eyes.
3) Search for friends in dark alleys and walkways to pass the time with during dull moments of weekend.
4) Will most likely be in search of working time piece as due to nature of early waking hours on monday. Destruction of time pieces was successful in last posting of weekend thrills.
5) Will tie self to tree in motion to preserve wildlife growing in front yard.
6) Will look for missing cat in rapidly growing lawn, think saw her few weeks ago lying amidst weeds and such.
7) Must find properly fitting pants. Last weeks endeavour was unsuccessful due to clothing manufacturers lack of talent in properly fitting women under ‘average’ height. Think the posting of measurements to manufacturer was a bust as they seemed to have found themselves on my porch once again.
8) Must find disposable income so as to invest in presents so can participate in christmas fun. Last years investment was not a tidy sum and started much earlier. Will need to possibly seek out ‘partner’ to ‘find’ sum.
9) Must begin preparation of christmas menu. Last year was a feast indeed. Will need to include feast in disposable christmas fund.
10) Must find walking buddy to take long stroll at seaside so can clean out smog from lungs due rapidly blackening lungs.
11) Will discuss development of iron lung machines with partner so can begin application of life long dream of becoming iron lung distributor to los angeles residents as can see no further progress of pollution control.
12) Think found cat as I sit here and type list of weekend plans. Seems she was cozy in a pile of clean towels. Now must add laundry to list.
13) Must rid self of excess clothes as can see no other alternative to laundry situation. Cats lying in clean towels, though cute, is disturbing indeed. Will need to smell all other linens to check for cleanliness.
14) Reminder: Must bathe cat. Seems she has been lying not only in weeds and such…but…elsewhere.
15) Must buy gloves for cat cleaning…
16) OH! And trim her nails.
17) Contact friend for cat cleaning endeavour…preferably a male is used to clawing from females..cats, that is. You know what I mean.
18) Must buy new shoes for seaside stroll. Present shoes are in sad state of disrepair.
19) Must REALLY look into disposable christmas fund as previous development of christmas funds is rapidly disappearing due to iron lung, cat cleaning and shoe endeavours.
20) Must invest in dictionary/thesaurus to find word replacement for ‘endeavor’
21) Must rerent ‘Heat’ starring Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino for tips on acquiring christmas fund.
11/02