Dear Jasmina

By all appearances, I’m the kind of girl who makes few friends and keeps them jealously close. It’s mostly because I’m a shy introverted kind of person, who, along with her husband, quakes a little at the thought of attending the neighborhood’s annual summer solstice party. Oddly enough, I don’t mind public speaking.

So, as Jasmina’s in the hospital with Sébastien, getting over some stupid virus that causes phenomenal stool outputs (4 litres… are you sorry you asked?), I try and make a point of keeping in touch since it kills me, that they’re all so far away and I can’t do anything to help.

Last week, after our phonecall (Jasmina at the hospital and nurses and dieticians visiting every five minutes, during lunchtime), I decided Jasmina should be distracted. I send her an e-mail (thank goodness she has a Blackberry… no, they didn’t pay me to say that…) and asked her what kind of magazines she likes. She catches my drift and e-mails me back on another subject entirely. I threaten her and say that she’ll be guilty of a teddy bear’s death if she doesn’t tell me. Very funny she says. I say I’m preparing the guillotine, and I’m going to send the pictures to Sébastien. She picks a magazine. Sébastien gets balloons delivered to his room, since the choice in teddy bears at the hospital is either overpriced or a little depressing… (The lady at the giftshop has an accent. “Oh! This one is cute!” she says. “It has a crutch under one arm, and a cast on the other leg…” Ummm, that’s alright. Sébastien isn’t sick that way. In fact, I fear if I send that one up, he’ll burst into tears.) Then I tell Jasmina that thanks to her cooperation, I only decapitated the chocolate Easter bunny she sent Marie-Hélène.

Easter caused me and Christian to eat an inordinate amount of chocolate eggs… You know, those little Hershey’s Eggies? I’m not sure what prompted Christian to buy a pound of those things, but we couldn’t stop eating them until they were gone. Every last one. And then, they were gone, within a week, tops, and Christian and I kind of looked at each other the following evening, when there wasn’t an Eggie to be found, and admitted we had sugar cravings. We’d been pretty good before Easter. I cut out deserts, Christian too, and now?

Last night, I sent Jasmina an e-mail. Figuring I should work a little for Sébastien’s news, I admitted my Great Sugar Cravings. “Do you know what? Last week, I had such a craving for donuts, I stopped debating with myself and bought 20 Timbits. I ate 17 of them, before almost feeling sick.” I told Christian that evening, even though I hid the remaining three. He laughed and said I wasn’t gaining any merits. I thought that was self-evident. Then I told Jasmina that I ate three muffins yesterday, from the batch I made for Mother’s Day Brunch, from a recipe that says they’ll last a long time (Um… not in this house).

She hasn’t answered me yet which means one of two things: Sébastien’s too busy having salt added to his food (because his new kidney is extra efficient at eliminating salt) – and sheesh Jacinta, find yourself a bigger problem. Or, she’s discouraged and wants a new friend. Then again, if I lived close by, I’d have the perfect excuse to make truckloads of muffins, and we’d both end up not quite ready to wear a two piece to the beach. Distance is both blessing and curse.