On Christmas Day Nanny and Grandfather told me to run to the store and get something for dinner. I went to Chinatown. Things were open and busy. They were teaching cooking classes in the meat department; cooking swordfish. A pig that had been killed and bled lay on the counter dying--you could see in his eyes (that) he hurt. And the lady who had owned him and killed him stood talking to him, trying to soothe him as he lay dying. I went to the other refrigerated room. I picked up a chicken. It was $3.03. Another one was $3.05. It was $1.79/lb. I was trying to find one for less than $2.00. I knew they did not want to cook anyway so I left without getting anything. Walking up Mott St. someone said, "Miss, you dropped a bill." And it was money. I folded it up and put it in my pocket, only to find out later it was counterfeit. The edges turned pale blue and blue grew into nearly half the bill and the ink disappeared. I went into the grocery store and an alarm went off. Screens at every checkout read "CODE 207M." Then a guy came to see why the alarms went off and he said, "Oh, it's because you're really an A65." I was in the freight elevator with Bryan Hunt and he said, "You fell asleep on the couch 4 years ago for 5 hours and when I woke up you were gone. The bed at the foot of the bed and you were gone." I said, "I don't remember that." And he said, "I'll ask you again tomorrow." And I said, "I won't remember it then either." We were flying in an airplane over Columbia. Rudy spotted a beautiful house next to the zoo and the river and the highway. We parachuted out and across from the house we landed in a bunch of scrappy twisted up vines and late fall underbrush with clearing in between. I said, "This is what I like." My father held up 5 strands of barbed wire fence, some new, some old and rusted, for us to roll under. I got barb wired stuck in my face and the doctors did not know anymore how to pull out barbed wire from the skin.