When I spoke to Jody on the phone she encouraged my confidence in her acupuncture services because she used the word “evil” when I mentioned “cancer” and “chemo.” Last week, I had … a vision? I don’t want to say the word “vision” because it makes me think of Dirty Steve in Young Guns warbling out at half-speed, “Did you see the size of that chicken?” I was dozing off at any rate, and I imagined without trying (okay, call it a vision if you want) that chemo was a lanky woman in a cheap feather boa leaning on an elbow, flicking the nails on one raised hand together, looking back at me with her brows aslant in mock pity. I’ve worried that my animosity toward the chemo might manifest itself more deeply, might make my body resist the work of the chemo every two weeks. So I’ve been trying not to see chemo as evil at all, but when Jody made the connection I thought, this is the acupuncturist for me.
Tagged: acupuncture, Annie, breast cancer, Carol Burnett, chi, Dirty Steve, Frankenstein, James Whale, Miss Hannigan, monsters, qi, Sean Young, Young Guns
Everyone’s writing about Charlie Sheen. I didn’t want to write about Charlie Sheen. So I wrote about Emilio’s brother instead. You know, that one-dimensional guy who barely registers in films like Red Dawn and Young Guns. But this is a good thing, you see, because I don’t think I could watch Charlie Sheen in anything anymore, but Emilio’s brother is a-okay: