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1998 october 16 fleshmy sister jubilee (it's a long story involving ham -- please don't ask) is in her first year of medical school. she has never been shy about her body, or talking about it and its various functions, so you can imagine the heights to which this propensity has grown; i know entirely more about things inside me than i care to*. she called last night, "i went to the cad lab today." "oh, yummies," said i. "i'm kinda off flesh right now." "imagine that." "d'you know how many muscles there are in your calf?" i, of course, answered in the negative and so, of course, had to listen to a litany of latin phrases ending in -us before she got to the point. "anyhow, there's this one and if you cut it where it attaches to the achilles tendon, and then peel it back?" dreading the answer, "yeah..." "salmon fillet." "guess i'll be putting the fish back in the freezer. maybe we'll eat fettucine primavera tonight." "so, you want to know the real reason i'm off the flesh?" "you'll tell me no matter what i say, so go right ahead." "it looks good. i mean really good. prime tenderloin, mmm mmm. those cannibals were on to something." off to eat my vegetable pizza, claire * last night while feeling under my jawline for evidence my glands were once again swollen, i came to the conclusion that with my head tilted back, my trachea feels just like a turkey neck looks. the mere thought of this unnerved me for hours.
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