LAST TIME ON CHEE RABBITS

This was around the time the high blood sugar started to become a problem

THIS TIME ON CHEE RABBITS

Shortly after that update things got worse, all my muscles tightened up and I could barely move! But it turned out my blood sugar wasn't even very high. It seems I was afflicted with food poisoning or some kind of terrible virus. I have never pooped so much in my life. I went through 4 rolls of toilet paper. Nearly one a day. Have you ever pooped until your ears started ringing? I have! This was a disgusting, exhausting week. Couldn't hold any food down, drank a hundred thousand litres of water.

I feel great today, though. Really good. Full of water and life and Springtime energy. On Saturday morning at 6am i was preheating my oven to cook some early morning buffalo wings. After about 20 minutes I started to notice a strange smell. When I opened the oven to check, a big plume of hot plastic-y smoke came billowing out of it. My whole kitchen was filled with a terrible poisonous fog and I was choking. If I opened the oven slightly another huge fog came flying out. It made me feel very alone. I thought about how girls in TV shows would call their mother or their best friend for adive and they'd freak out together over the telephone. I don't have anyone to call when I have an emergency, or need to talk about something. This isn't a self-pity party, I'm okay with it. It's sad, but I'm okay with it. I chose this life. I had other options, I liked them less. It turned out to be your basic grease fire, and I did a deep clean of the oven. I started with some homemade cleaning concoctions but they only succeeded in turning black tar into brown tar, so i think i was just agitating air into the tar rather than cleaning it. I got some kind of Chemical that came with gloves and a bag and a lot of warnings. It came with an instruction leaflet whose first instruction was "read the instruction leaflet".

That Severe Alert on the telephone was unpleasant, wasn't it? Very large noise. Very unpleasant. I still feel shaken. I very nearly cried. My hormones are all over the place atm and I have been crying quite easily. I love being in the easy-to-tears state. I love being in that place where i could be looking at a statue and imagine that it is proud and start crying. Feels great.

I'm glad the Spring has finally come. Winter was hard.

A person should always seek to remove more pain from this world than they introduce. I broke that rule last week being selfish, so now I'm back to drinking nothing stronger than buttermilk.

Spent the week watching Gilmore Girls and thinking about my friends. I also started making a piece of music that I'm pretty pleased with so far. I'll attach a demo of it to this post.

On Friday night i dressed up in my cutest cherry jumper and red patchwork dress and went out to Fox & Firkin to meet some friends I haven't seen in a while. I was sober, drinking water. They were on MDMA. They were very friendly and complimentary about my cherry outfit. I met some people I hadn't met before, and they were exceedingly lovely too.

On Saturday I spent the whole day curled up on the sofa playing video games and watching TV. A lovely way to spend a day. Unfortunately at the end of the day I decided it would be a good idea to order myself a pizza. I did not enjoy the pizza, and it spiked my blood sugar a crazy amount. On Sunday I quite, quite foolishly compounded the problem by adding tacos to my body. The tacos were delicious. Really good.

For some completely unknown reason I'd agreed to attend a drum circle in the woods on Sunday night. I'd stayed up incredibly late, woken up early, drank a cup of coffee and then had an unintentional nap. I woke up late. I'd already worn my cutest outfit on Friday, and all my other clothes were dirty. I picked a new outfit and threw it into the machine. I jumped in the shower. I started getting my face ready. Beck Avery text me to ask if I wanted to meet her at a bar right next to the drum circle. This was around the time the high blood sugar started to become a problem. There I am, fuzzy headed, half-naked, face done, hair up, bra on, sitting on the floor in front of the washing machine watching it spin spin spin like the hands of the clock and my feet and hands are tingling with peripheral neuropathy.

Eventually I made it out the door (though my outfit was incomplete because i messed up and didn't put my pink velour sweatpants in there). I took a bus that went all the way from here to there. It's a cute place, never been there before. I met Becky Avery and we had a fun chat, though my eyes and brain were boiling in their own sugar and I was getting very shivery and fluish. I had to cancel on the drum circle, but I waited on a wall until the people I had promised I'd attend showed up so i could tell them i love them and say hello and goodbye.

It's unlikely i'll be able to work tomorrow, i'm cooking all my organs into a hot sweet goulash. I'll need to do some very fast exercise and take some kind of medication that can lower the blood sugar and reduce pain. Así es la vida.

I'm roasting a chicken. I don't really want a chicken, but I have all these vintage pyrexes now and a cute apron and what else am I going to do? Yes, well. It's in the oven now and it smells delicious.

There were a couple of eventful weekends. Several bottles of tequila disappeared inside a rabbit and I visited some bars and made some very fast friends. Entertaining, but brief. It's cute when drunk people tell you they want to keep in touch with you. Even if you tell them to their face that you know this is not going to happen, they're so damned sure… so sure. I made a date, too. But it fell through. There are flowers in a vase on a little table with some birds on it. The pub around the corner houses a robin's nest now, they've placed some old menus against a wall to protect the brooding birdy from hungry fox and kitty cats. The table with the flowers on it, I found that in the street. It's got robins and tits and metal legs. It looks like something my grandmother would have had.

It's getting to be time to have a picnic. I'd love a good reason to buy a cute picnic basket and blanket from Selfridge's. Also a good reason to spend days corning beefs, and boiling eggs and making cucumber sandwiches.

Well I'd better go baste. Good luck.

~ chee

hey babe

OK

i just made a lasagne in my pink daisies vintage pyrex, it's so cute. it's delicious. it's so cute. it looks so cute in its little pink outfit.

i drank several bottles of tequila and text several unexpected characters from my former lives. several exes. currently deep in some chats with some people i honestly never thought i'd speak to again. i've learned that a lot of the things that are interesting about me are symptoms of borderline personality disorder. the week was good. it was fine. i've still been having a hard time actually getting out of the house. part of it is because i remain having very bad skin. at the moment i'm going through a whole thing where my body hair is darker than normal, and my facial skin is thinner and paler than normal. this combines in an unexpected way where i find some dark hair above my lip, try to remove it, and the removal process cuts and bleed and then leaves a moustache made of blood. that's been going on for weeks now. today i tried to even-up my eyebrows and ended up maknig them less symmetrical. I used the wrong tools. i really need a haircut.

i got a couple of new dresses. they are adorable. i look so cute. it would be so fun if i could go outside and look cute outside. a picnic. maybe a picnic would be good.

um… so what do you want to know? i want my money back.

i'm actually very normal and happy.

thanks. love u. bye

Wow. I completely forgot to write a post yesterday. That's wild.

What happened last week? I started making a corned beef brisket. It will be ready to start cooking tomorrow. It's been brining in the refrigerator since Thursday. I've been having a bad skin day for about a month now. My testosterone appears to be high. I don't know why, my medication hasn't changed. I see some studies that say keto boosts testosterone. Maybe I need to up my anti-androgens or eat a pizza. There's not much else to report really. I've been shopping for vintage pyrex. I got a bowl in the pattern my grandmother had when I was growing up. A pattern from which I ate my weight in Irish stew many times over. I've also sourced a couple of casseroles and lasagne dishes in the milk-on-rose gooseberry and daisies patterns. They haven't arrived yet but they're on their way. My outfit today is a pink shirt dress dress that looks like an old floral hand-me-down quilt sewn patch-by-patch over generations by midwestern mothers and grandmothers. I'm also wearing pink velour sweatpants and a pink sweatshirt with cherries on it. This will go together with my pyrex when it arrives. Then I will never go outside again except to the market to pick up ingredients to bring home to my pyrex to put in the oven. There were some things that were meant to happen last week but they all fell through. Spring is becoming more assertive in its threats to break through the dark and the cold. There's a beautiful cherry blossom tree visible from my window and I find myself staring at it longingly while japanese orchestral music plays in my mind and everything else fades to black and white like schindler's list. Stress is unusual. It can present in such unexpected ways. Mine is currently presenting as a fantasy that i'm a red head goy girl who grew up in 60s Manhattan and married a jewish jazz musician called Leonard Katz and my name is Kathleen, named after my grandmother, and everybody calls me Kitty Katz and i'd better go because Leo will be expecting something on the table when he gets back from the schvitz. I need to take a break. Maybe in April I will take a break. A taco bell has opened nearby, maybe the solution to my high testosterone is to eat taco bell three times a day. My yearly tarot told me April would be a particularly hard month when i'd have to resist falling back into my bad old ways. I didn't believe it at the time but that was back during the optimistic high living days of Avatar 2. Now my skin is disgusting, my hair is ugly and there's a taco bell next door and I'm stressed and John Wick 4 is out. It's okay, though. Everything is actually very chill. I'm very chill and well-adjusted.

Hello :)

On Thursday evening I went outside for perhaps the first time in March. As the oxygen started to re-enter my bloodstream I recalled I was in a very similar state of mind before flying to Mexico last year. Perhaps this is just what March is like for me.

On Friday I went into the office eventually. It was nice. Afterwards I attended the birthday bash of my at-work idol. It was a lot of fun. I saw some people I haven't seen in quite a while, and met some new people who were very lovely and funny. It was a splendid occasion and I'm quite touched that I was even invited and I will cherish the pencil.

My upstairs neighbour appears to have purchased at least part of a trumpet. Their practice lacks ambition. They seem to be struggling with embouchure, but I can hear them distracted by the valves– clattering on them needlessly. I'd recommend practicing with the mouthpiece alone and forget about the fingering for a while, so futile without the lip. You're doing fine, I believe in you, keep at it.

I'll get off the computer again now to do some cleaning and prepare something tasty for dinner.

If you have a free moment, and/or enjoy sending things in the mail, look at this cute project and send it a postcard: https://utopia.sadgirl.net/

An international postcard is £1.85. I usually just stick two first class stamps on when I'm sending a postcard to the United States, and then drop it in a normal postbox. That's 2x£1.10 stamps. I hope the postal service puts the extra 35p to good use.

Anyway, it's cute and you love sending letters so you should do it!

~ chee

I'm going to take my horse to the old town road and ride until I can't.

I think I'll have to stop eating vegetarian as it has presented as me just not eating anything at all. It all went well except that one evening last week when I literally forgot tuna is not a vegetable. I do enjoy a dietary restriction, though. It's a fine hobby. Perhaps i'll start eating kosher.

Spent most of the week drinking way too much coffee because of the new espresso machine and grinder. I keep wiring myself up to the highest degree and then freaking out. Feeling super anxious and wondering why as I top up my v60 with espresso. I should probably start drinking alcohol again, to bring this coffee consumption back under control. Also I must think of my readers. The engagement's just not the same as back when I took meth. Those were the days, JetPack stats off the chart.

Another blessed week of doing very little. I'm writing a parser for KDL right now. Getting into Common Lisp like this has made me understand why people might enjoy missionary work. When you are possession of such light, such joy it feels wrong not to share it. Especially when all somebody would have to do to reach this same heightened state is to let it into their life, accept it, let it save them. I've got a print copy of the specification sitting on my kitchen table. I read it in the mornings over coffee.

Is Funky Cold Medina based on a true story?

Anyway, have a good week.