faevii: "I take my noodles very seriously" (srs bizness)
(You cannot imagine how much that title amuses me. It relates to the post way more literally than you're probably thinking! :D)

So, one day my mother informed me that she had heard of this healer. Yeah. Needless to say (I hope), my initial reaction was to be skeptical. However, she went on to explain that this was no scam, that the woman had simply noticed her talent one day and has since been using it to help people for free. Well, I thought. If it was free ...

Now, this is not the kind of situation where you can simply make an appointment. It's not her job; it's just something that she does for friends, acquaintances and friends of friends. She probably does have a job, which I assume takes up time. So my mother first had to get to know her a bit, and then she had to introduce us. I think they actually are friends now. *shrugs*

When we were introduced to each other, it was not strictly for this purpose, either. She really just introduced us, at a barbecue that we were both invited to. I have no idea what the next step is supposed to be, though I'm going to ask my mother one of these days.

The only problem is ... I kind of don't like her.

I'm probably being silly here and I thought she was quite alright until it was almost time to leave, but what she said then hit a really sore spot. I was having some trouble breathing at the time because my allergy meds had worn off and asthma spray alone couldn't combat the onslaught of allergens anymore (I was surrounded by dogs), so I said something to that effect. And this woman just went, "I don't believe that." I mean, what the fuck?! I think I asked her why, or at least something prompted her to go on, so she explained that I was obviously happy and enjoying myself.

Uhm. Excuse me, but since when has it been impossible to enjoy anything at all, ever, while you're not feeling well physically?? Am I not allowed to smile, for fear that people will think I am perfectly healthy? Should I stop making jokes and devote this journal entirely to the constant lamentation of my ills, for the sake of credibility?

I don't care that her tone was all friendly and uplifting. In fact, that is exactly what worries me. I am now afraid (I mean literally scared) that when (or if) I get to have my little healing session with her, she will simply attempt to talk me out of my illness. I've had enough of that shit, thank you. Thanks but no thanks. GO AWAY.

And yet, my mother has told me of an actual person who very nearly would have gone blind without her help. Urk. I suppose I'll have to grit my teeth and give her a chance.

(In retrospect, I'm suddenly amused by the amount of lit lanterns that were present at my mother's barbecue. Ahem.)
faevii: (slice of brain)
Sometimes I regret that I never had a chance to find out how I would have acted if I'd had internet access during my first few weeks here, when I felt so amazing. I didn't really start to miss it until things got worse - I missed certain people, yes, and I missed Google when I had a question, but I didn't miss Being Online as a way to waste spend time.

Finding things to do when I needed to sit down for more than an hour because my feet or my back had to recover was a challenge, but I got the hang of it after a while. Even other kinds of pain, which simply distracted me from whatever I started, could be helped because I was so calm that I didn't mind lying on a heating pad for 30 minutes, doing nothing. If all else failed, I went over to Daniel's to talk to him or play Dragon Age II. Sometimes I reread a book, and on one memorable occasion I even acquired a new book.

There was a time when I went for long walks really often, exercised a lot (an evolved version of my former "morning exercises", which eventually became too extensive to be done before breakfast) and spent a curious amount of time just listening to music, dancing around the place if the music invited it. :D I wouldn't exactly call this a positive development, though ... I think I may have been somewhat manic. It all felt rather compulsive, especially the walking. Still, I did have fun.

What killed it in the end was, of course, when the lack of sleep sapped the energy to do much of anything out of me, while the impulses to do all of the above remained. That was torture - I never missed the internet more in my life.

Now I've got it back, but I don't like having no other options. I hope I can soon start walking again, at least. Also, on another note, I hope can soon post my pictures! There are some of Things That I Made ... not necessarily the most exciting stuff, but I feel I need to display them as proof of the fact that I've done anything creative at all between now and two years ago.
faevii: (creepy irish ninja cat)
Since there was already a metaphorical cat in my last entry, I figured this would be a good moment to write the one about real cats that I've been planning for a while.

You see, I have a lot of windows facing the street. Between the street and my building, there's a frontyard that mostly consists of grass and oddly placed shrubs. I cannot see the grass when I'm sitting down, but I catch glimpses of what's going on down there often enough.

So there's this cat. I know nothing about cats, but something makes me suspect it is a male cat, and I am going to refer to him as Cat 1. He likes to hang out below my window.

Cat 1 is black with a few white spots, a bit on the thin side, and seems to think of himself as a dangerous predator. One day as I opened my window, I saw him doing his usual thing, stalking around the frontyard trying to kill birds with the power of his mind or whatever it is he does. Occasionally he would glare up at me, as if to ask who the fuck I thought I was that I dared to just watch him like that, yet knowing there was nothing he could do to stop me.

Then, Cat 2 appeared! Cat 2 is a light brown tabby, slightly more substantial than Cat 1, and seems to be a rather laid-back fellow. If he is indeed the cat I think he is (long story), I even know for sure that he is male. He doesn't hang out here as often as Cat 1, but on that day he came by, strolling into the frontyard as if he were admiring the scenery.

Cat 1 was not pleased with this turn of events. I can only assume that he disapproves of such un-predatory behaviour as scenery-admiring, especially in his territory, dammit!

As soon as he spied the intruder, Cat 1 dashed behind a shrub and crouched there, seemingly ready to pounce at any moment. If Cat 2 had noticed his presence, he gave no indication. When he casually approached the shrub that Cat 1 was hiding behind, Cat 1 decided that he'd had enough of this nonsense and gave a very loud hiss. Cat 2 was thoroughly unimpressed and merely went around the shrub on the opposite side. Cat 1 twitched in irritation. How dare this stranger ignore his warning?! When Cat 2 emerged from the cover of the shrub, Cat 1 did the funniest thing I have ever seen a cat do (though I admittedly haven't seen cats do many things at all). It was a strange sort of half-pounce, as if he'd been going to attack and changed his mind mid-jump. Then he hissed again for good measure.

Cat 2 didn't even react. He continued to stroll through the frontyard at the same pace as before, until he reached the house and changed direction to wander off elsewhere. Poor little Cat 1 could do nothing but watch, frozen in position where he'd landed.

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. The whole thing had been funny enough on its own, but what made matters worse was that it also reminded me oddly of a Dragon Age II fanfic I had just read (either on my phone or on my MP3 player as a saved text file). I wish I remembered the title now to have proof of the similarity! Ever since then, I've been referring to the cats as Fenris and Anders in my head ...
faevii: "I take my noodles very seriously" (srs bizness)
On the whole, my first week alone was amazing. The floor in the hall wasn't done yet, there was no light in the kitchen and all I had to cook with was a single pot, but it was great. Thanks to a number of factors such as less allergens in the air, a better mattress and practically no stress whatsoever (to only name a few), I slept better and had much more energy. I could concentrate better and going outside was suddenly not a problem anymore. Showering was easy. I never got bored. BASICALLY IT WAS AWESOME OKAY. :D

My wrists became terribly dry because I wasn't used to doing the dishes by hand and my feet hurt because I wasn't used to not wearing shoes inside, but eventually I adapted. I visited Timo every single day and probably played with him more than when we were still living together. I enjoyed being able to do whatever I wanted whenever I felt like it, and not having to worry about things being Potentially Dirty because I knew what was clean and what wasn't. Since I didn't have much money left after buying a vacuum cleaner and such, I even discovered that €15 could get me through an entire week if I was careful.

Then I suddenly couldn't eat wheat anymore.

...

Yeah. I actually laughed, you know. I don't know why, but my first reaction was this kind of hysterical amusement. Of course that would happen right after I'd finally managed to get the hang of living with lactose intolerance. Of course that would happen while I was basically broke and thought I'd figured out how to survive on €15 a week. WHEN ELSE. GOODBYE, CHEAP BREAD.

While I was still unsure what was going on, there was a day on which I cried for hours and hours, mostly due to the debilitating stomach cramps but also because I was scared. And possibly mourning noodles, while fervently hoping it was something else. It wasn't. When I finally stopped eating anything of the kind, my stomach felt better immediately and the rest of my body within two or three days. That could hardly be a coincidence.

I have since been tested for Celiac Disease (gluten intolerance), but either that's not it or the doctor made a mistake. Like, I don't know, maybe forgetting to tell me that I still needed to be eating the stuff for it to work. I have yet to ask him, since my next appointment is not until two weeks from now because I thought I'd also have my lactose intolerance officially confirmed while I was at it, and something went wrong with that test. >_<

Scraping the money together that I suddenly needed to feed myself for the rest of the month wasn't easy, but fortunately I had help. I also ate a lot of rice, and I was extremely grateful for all the positive effects from moving out that I still felt. Without them I would have been screwed.

(Ironic icon choice is ironic.)
faevii: "I take my noodles very seriously" (srs bizness)
You know that feeling when you've got great news that you badly want to tell certain people, but it's not possible right now and you just know that by the time when you finally get the chance, lots of other stuff will have happened and the novelty of the first thing will have worn off, and it just won't be the same as telling them now??

It gets even more annoying when the next big thing that happens is something bad, and while you're still trying to figure out how you're supposed to reveal both at once, the bad thing already becomes old news as well. And so on.

Eventually I just gave up on the idea of summarising anything before I got around to the details. Mind you, the point at which I gave up on it was about three weeks ago. Things continued to happen even after that, so by now I'm mainly confused because there is so much I can't offhandedly refer to yet although it feels like it's been centuries since then.

This is why all I can do is to write down the events of the past two months in a mostly chronological order, as strange as that will probably feel. It's like I'm about to publish a chaptered story about my own life, which ... uhm. LOL.

First came, of course, the move. Not that long, I'm only putting it behind a cut because the bit of babbling up there is long enough on its own. )

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Lin

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