I assigned my step brother Kent a job to make me happy. (You will all see the wonderful results. It’s a surprise. Kent said to me: “I have to do it. Because cancer. But…. seriously? That sounds awful. This sounds like a bad idea. I don’t want to. I am officially doing this under duress.” I said that’s even better. I said if he wanted to do it, I wouldn’t want it. I said that while /I/ was giving him the option of not doing it, I would love him to have the choice, the cancer THE CANCER wasn’t giving him a choice. It wasn’t giving either of us a choice. He did not like that. I giggled.) Note that the first time I met my step mother, she said, “You are just like my son. He thinks he is funny too!” Step-mom, note that I AM funny, I don’t /just/ think I’m funny. Whatever. I’m funnier than Kent anyway. He’s…. ok. He’s occasionally amusing. I guess.
I told Kent that in my heart-of-hearts, my biggest fear, the REAL FEAR, the big one… it’s not the cancer. I live next to MOTHER FUCKING DANA FARBER. All of my doctors LOVE ME. Love me. I am their favorite. So, the biggest fear is that the power will go to my head. I have the ultimate trump card of control over others. I want something, and you can’t say no. (One of Kent’s questions was actually, “are you asking me to do something physically impossible? Don’t do that.”) I say that I want you to give me that cookie you are eating. I have already eaten ALL OF THE REST OF THE COOKIES. But I want your cookie. I WANT IT! You have to give it to me if I ask. I don’t even have to yell. I just have to ask. Maybe I don’t even have to ask. Maybe I just have to look sad. And you GIVE ME THAT LAST PIECE OF YOUR JOY BECAUSE AT LEAST YOU DON”T HAVE MY CANCER!!! And then I giggle to myself as I enjoy that delicious cookie because I can use things like “it is an important part of my healing” “it would make me smile in this hard depressing time” “I have had a rough week and all I want is TO PUT MY BIG TOE ON YOUR FACE! HOLD STILL. DON’T STRUGGLE ENJOY IT!!!!”
With my pre-existing dictatorial tendencies, I feel like this is my most real worst case scenario. I get MAD with power. I go crazy with the power and it DESTROYS me. Which brings us to Game of Thrones.
I tell Kent that I am really starting to identify with Mad Queen Cersei. But then I start to think about it and I DO really identify with Mad Queen Cersei. SHE GOT HER HEAD SHAVED BALD. OMFG FULL CIRCLE MEANING UNIVERSE.
Ok, so now I decide that what I’d really like to do is stage my head shaving (this isn’t for months I don’t think. I have chemo in a few weeks, and you don’t lose your hair immediately, but I will absolutely lose my hair. I’m gonna be bald. It’s gonna be super shitty) as Cercei and Septa Unella head shave.
Now, I know that shaving my head will be emotional. And awful. I like my hair. And a female’s femininity and we are shaving it off and that sucks. But, it’ll grow back. And it’s not the worst thing that is going to happen. And if my head has to be shaved and I have to go bald and I’m going to cry about it, the very LEAST I can do is make sure that I make someone dress as a nun and periodically say “shame!” as they do it. Kent VOLUNTEERED. HAHHAHAHAH… Which makes it worse, as I said, because it would be better if he didn’t want to and I MADE HIM (AHHAHAHHAHAHH MAD WITH POWER), but Kent is the best one for it. He won’t want to do it by the time he gets there. I guess that is my consolation.
I told this to Lesley (who is like “REMEMBER MOM! Shaving your head is emotional. And awful. It’s not laughing. It’s SHITTY.” And I say, “If I’m crying and miserable, it will be EVEN MORE LIKE GAME OF THRONES!! VERSIMILITUDE!!!!).
Anyway I probably won’t starve myself before hand or walk bald and naked through the streets of Boston (if so, I will make sure we tape it so that it can go viral) and I will almost CERTAINLY not perpetuate mass murder with wildfire. …. no promises though.
I wanted to let you know because HAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHA (I think I am so funny) and also so that if it gets to you through the grape vine that I am turning into MAD QUEEN CERSEI, you don’t worry about sending my brothers to see me. I know where to draw the line. I still know the difference between fantasy and reality. I am NOT delusional. My brother’s virtue is safe. …… no incest. I PROMISE.