~ ANNE! ~

There's a mouse in the house! (Although I find it much funnier to think of that phrase in a thick Scottish accent, i.e. "there's a moose in the hoose!") Annoyingly, said mouse appears to reside in the storage room right beside my bedroom. If it migrates in to live with me I will not be impressed. My German roommate Rene discovered it yesterday, and by all accounts ran away screaming like a little girl (or a big girl's blouse, if we continue with the Scottish phrases). This problem has been ongoing since I moved in, and in fact they were kind enough to originally answer my demands for kitchen cupboard-space by giving me the mouse-infested cupboard, and not telling me till a week afterward.

Since then, Lee has caught at least three mice and filled in every visible hole in the wall that he could find. However, the mice keep returning and Rene is not impressed. I don't care that much (although mouse droppings in food cupboards are disgusting) but I hope they get it sorted soon. Happily, though, this has had the effect of bringing on a house meeting, during which it was strongly impressed upon certain roommates who shall remain nameless that leaving frying pans full of congealing food sitting out on the stove for days and days is disgusting and putrid, as well as attracting mice and compounding the problem. To be honest, I am far more bothered by the congealing-food-overnight problem than the mouse problem, so hopefully problem B solves problem A (by finally convincing my flatmates to PUT AWAY THEIR BLOODY FOOD ALREADY) and then is itself solved in short order. In an ideal world.

In other news, and thanks for asking - I can eat again! This is very exciting. I never really thought about how much enjoyment I get from eating until I had to stop. I'm not usually a digestive-troubles kind of girl and I now have a whole heck of a lot of empathy with people who have celiac or colitis or Crohn's and have to put up with this kind of rubbish on a regular basis. Yuck. You all have my sympathy.

I did in fact go to the doctor on Saturday after having been told by Steph (in no uncertain terms) to get checked out. Since it was a Medicentre, I got the usual "You've only been sick for five days and you're bothering me with this?!" I was told to come back after I'd been unable to eat for a week. However, she did tell me that the lining of my stomach was probably inflamed and to stop pretending I was healthy and just be sick. So I called in sick to VV and lay around drinking ginger ale and eating soup and it did help. I am still not 100% but I'm one heck of a lot better, and the sun is shining in a blue Alberta sky, and so it's all good.

Went to see Transamerica last night at the Princess II. Highly recommended. Well-written, well-acted movies make me happy, and also make me wonder why they bother churning out such large amounts of the opposite type. (Although of course I know the answer to that one).

Friday night was Taiwanese Night at the Feast. Man, what a rotten week to pick to be ill. I still ate a lot more than was really a good plan, though. And suffered for it all night. I liked everything except the bitter melon soup - it certainly did cleanse my palate, though! I think bitter melons must taste pretty much exactly like Snozzcumbers, except maybe a bit less slimy.