spange, spange, spange.

well, mike, 46, british skipper, isn't leaving until march. and won't be going much further south than mexico. oh, snap. but he assured me he would listen to the net every morning and transmit my information if someone mentions needing a cook or any kind of crew on board going south, which is nice of him.

the cops keep being annoying and kicking me out of the spots i try to go sell in. next time, apparently, they confiscate my wares. that's a good 200-250$ worth of stuff made, so i need to lay low these days, which sucks because I have a whopping 15 pesos to my name, i can maybe get 2 tacos with that. and i still need to pay for my hammock space. argh.

so this is me saying BE KIND, PRESS MY BUTTON, SEND MONIES.

it's almost xmas, after all.


***EDIT***

Dear Santa,

This year, although I am lacking a chimney and milk and cookies to give you (how does Pacifico with a lime sound?), I would like to say that I'm sorry I have been such a bad spender. That having been said, I would really like it if you brought me the following gift, for which I promise to... get a job upon my arrival which would not involve me sitting on the ground in front of really crappy jewlery made from marijuana fibre.



So Santa, please remember me this year. I will leave out a lime, a knife, and a fresh Pacifico on the porch for you. Please come early. I have a duck to cook for Carry.

Love,


Cat.


p.s. Sorry for that one thing I did. I know you know what I'm talking about. No one else needs to know.