Sunday, July 30, 2006

Weekend Tidbits

My youngest brother is visiting next week (the one who just turned 17), and we've cleaned the bathrooms, which I guess means he's been elevated from family to "real house guest."


I finally got antibiotics for this brutal, sucky summer sinus infection I've had for FOUR WEEKS now. I'm entirely in favor of modern Western medicine, except that tons of doctors refuse to take you seriously when you know your own body. That irritates me. I've had at least two sinus infections a year since I was 16, and I know when my brain is full of boogers and it's not getting better without antibiotic help. I also haven't run a fever since I was FOUR, and I get real tired of doctors acting like I'm some sort of moron for suggesting I don't run fevers. (I vividly recall barfing on the school nurse in grade school when they insisted I wasn't sick because I didn't have a fever.) My current doctor has actually written on the front of my chart "Does not run fevers" (lovely man) but the nurses all feel called to ignore it, as do any consulting doctors. (I'm honestly not sure my doctor believes it, either, but at least he humors me.)

Typically when I get antibiotics for my sinus infections, I get amoxicillan in powdered format in the pills the pharmacist puts together in gelcaps. About an hour after I take the pill, I feel like crap and my head hurts like crazy where the sinus infection is. While I know differently, I deeply believe those little powdery bits in the pill are each going and individually attacking my sinus infection (with teeny little swords). This time, they've given me pre-made pills, which are solid, so I'm having some trouble visualizing where my little antibiotic soldiers and their teeny little swords come from. Apparently they have to get all the way to my stomach and then get partially digested before they can turn into powder and draw their teeny little swords to attack my brain boogers. This seems inefficient.


We are watching Under the Tuscan Sun, which is an excellent movie, and which always makes me inform Mr. McGee that I clearly can never take him to Italy. I draw a lot of attention in Italy solely by virtue of my red hair. I also know lots and lots of Italian obscenities (my Italian professor was Toscana, and they're an earthy people) to fend off random Italian men hitting on me (also to protest decisions of soccer officials), but somehow I think Mr. McGee would still be annoyed by all the men following me through the plaza and shouting "Rosa! Rosa! Bella americana rosa!"

You don't really have to be that bella. You just have to be rosa, and you can attract undue attention in many different countries around the world.

When I volunteered at the Boys and Girls Club of St. Joe County in South Bend, there were little girls there who had never seen red hair before, coming from African-American neighborhoods that were essentially ghettoized and ethnically restricted. They loved to braid my hair and the majority of my volunteer hours were spent sitting patiently while little girls attacked my hair.

It always made me a little sad that my hair attracted the same attention in inner-city South Bend as it did in countries where red hair was almost unheard of.

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