My friend April has since decided she will seek spiritual enlightenment by embracing Buddhism. One of the tenets of this new philosophy is a disdain for the material. I have a great deal of respect for anyone who can give up material things, �cause I can't. I love my shit. I like to shop for shit, I like to buy shit, I like to get rid of old shit to make room for new shit. I love shit.
So I fear I was a bad influence on her while she was living here. I'd ask if she wanted to go to Ikea with me and she would say �no more things' and I would say �but they're SWEDISH things from SWEDLAND' and she would say �since you put it that way I need a great big rock and a folding table.'
Now she lives a few time zones away. She is nowhere near an Ikea, but I am. This weekend I went to Ikea to buy Swedish posters and put them in Swedish frames and while I was there I got Swedish meatballs because Carman of Carman's Country Kitchen (the slogan for her restaurant is "she put the cunt back in country. I swear to the Baby Jesus and his Mama who was sucked up into heaven when she was sleeping in a cave that's the real slogan) asked me to pick some up for her and I got Swedish flower pots and Swedish table feet for my mother and Swedish napkins for my chin.
And in my fever of commercialism I thought about April and her ritual drumming on the mountain tops and I missed her.
Posted at 4:33 p.m.
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