A very nice woman approached me while I was shopping for head bands and shit at The Rack, she wanted me to know that life will continue after all the treatment is done. She was an older gal, probably in her mid 60's. She beat cancer got a new job as a medical specialist at Healing Hands; coincidently a low income clinic where my mother worked before. She has travelled to London, Ireland, and the Caribbean if I remember right, but, I'm probably lying to you because my short term memories are falling out like my hair, after cancer she wanted to do the things she always wanted to do. She seemed really happy to share this with me, and I accepted her story. I did not find a head scarf. After the rack I went to the Civic Center to volunteer at The Lion King for opening night, I volunteer so that I can see shows for free. And no, I did not find a head scarf so I had to go to the theater bald. I am warming up to this new image of myself, but it's dramatic to be a bald chick.
words about health, food, and feminism