going to ottawa…
so why am i so cranky?

TORPEDO JOE

no lie.

i went to the doctor, this past friday…

apparently i have the most amazing sinus infection ever. i’ve had it since december 2002 and, while the more obvious symptoms (blocked nose, sore throat, sinus pressure) have long since disappeared, it apparently persists (despite the antibiotics i was prescribed when it was first diagnosed last year…). what’s more, this incredible infection had the ability to cause me headaches, nausea and insomnia in NOVEMBER of 2002, a month before it even entered my body. these manifestations of this horrific disease were the reasons for both that original appointment and this most recent one, as they continue to remain to this day. but my doctor was very vigilant, and immediatley suspected that i was still under attack by this evil (that’s right EVIL) sinus ailment. with the tips of his fingers he tapped me several times around eyes, and when i admitted to him that this did in fact feel quite unpleasant his suspicions were confrimed.

professional diagnosis: sinus infection
solution: more antibiotics

sophie’s diagnosis: damn retard idiot
solution: new doctor

jer, i’m tired, i’m going to sleep… sorry i couldn’t do better yet, but i will.

january 28, 2003

When I was about eight or so, we were on vacation in Turkey, and my mother had to go and visit her aunt, Hale (pronounced hah-leh). She brought me along, cause at that age I was old enough to sit still and be polite while people around me spoke in a language I didn�t understand, and also able to follow strict instructions. I was told in the taxi ride over that I was ABSOLUTELY forbidden from eating anything that was served to us, or drinking any of the tea. Like any normal eight year old, or any normal human being for that matter, I was very curious as to why. My mother proceeded to tell me about the times that she and her sisters had stayed with Hale hala. She would make for the little girls� lunch macaroni and cheese, or yogurt, something like that, and when it was brought to the table, it already had pepper in it. One day my mother was hanging around the kitchen, watching as Hale, making the lunch for that day, randomly sprayed the air with Raid. Fruit flies and other airborne creatures dropped instantly from their flight paths and settled with the mist over the stove, countertops and food.
I was of course outraged at the thought of my poor mother being forced to eat bugs as an innocent and defenseless little girl; but she maintained that bugs weren�t bad for you, it was the bug spray that was the problem. �What, is she crazy?� I asked, and my mother answered simply that she was, in fact, quite insane, yes.
I had a really great time that day, sitting on the balcony with my mother and her aunt, enormously enjoying the secret game that Mum and I were playing. When hala would go inside to get or do something, we would break off a little piece of our cookie, take one of the plums from our plate, and toss them over the balcony. We would pour out our tea, little by little over the edge. Hale mentioned to my mother that she was wonderfully impressed by how well behaved and well mannered I was.
I mention this now of all times because last night, in a hospital in Turkey, my mother�s aunt Hale Uner died. Her death was as unexpected as it can be for a woman of eighty some years old. My memory of that day is the only memory that I have of Hale hala, and it�s one that I�m very grateful for.