"Hamster in Tiny Playground" video gem

"HAMSTER IN TINY PLAYGROUND"
This is a pingpong ball-sized roborovski pygmy hamster, the tiniest type of hamster in the world. I used to keep them as pets.
ISN'T THIS CUTE!


HERE ARE MY 3 LATE ROBOS
Bashful, Itchy and Spherical
This is the only Youtube video I ever posted:~~~


 WHILE WE'RE AT IT, HERE'S SOME MUSIC
AND SOME MORE

Pygmy Shrews, Harvest Mice and Roborovski Hamsters: tiniest mammals in the world!

FURRY FRIDAY ON SATURDAY!

THE EURASIAN PYGMY SHREW

(Sorex minutus)

weighing in at just 4g

with a 2inch (52mm) body and 32mm (1¾inch) tail

is the tiniest mammal in Europe

and the second tiniest in the world

(after the African pygmy mouse)

In a hand: to scale:~

How tiny and cute!

It's actually slightly smaller than the exceedingly agile Eurasian harvest mouse (Micromys minutus)

Which is very tiny and cute too!

Also very little in comparison to the human hand:

And quite a lot smaller than the Mongolian pygmy hamster

(Phodopus roborovskii)

~ better known as the roborovski hammy,

which is the tiniest hammy in the world

and, at just 50mm/2inches no longer in the body

but which weighs an average 20-25g ~ 5-6 times more

How delightful! This one's a teenager:

 

Pygmy shrew on Youtube:

Roborovski hamsters in the wild

(Northern China):~

Yes, as my American friends like to say, they are indeed

"SO ADORABLE!"

(We in Britain tend to prefer "delightful" ~ and of course they're both!)

WISHING Y'ALL A VERY FURRY WEEKEND INDEED!

Random Drunk Found In Cellar/Not Looking Forward to Tomorrow

I FELT LIKE I WAS GOING MAD yesterday. 5AM and the house resonating to the rumblings of somebody's coughing, wheezing, snorting, gurgling and so on ~ which seemed to be emanating from somewhere just outside my door.

So when, at 8AM, I eventually dared to open the said door to investigate ~ the hallway was empty. So I crept down to the "wine" cellar (never seen a bottle down there, except my own methadone which once dropped out of my pocket when I was trying to top up the electricity) ~ where I was confronted by the sight of a homeless looking bearded giant in a grey anorak, sprawled unconscious across the concrete floor, snoring for England.

Then I was idiot enough to lean slightly on the door. There was an ear-splitting squeak and I ran and hid behind my own door, which slammed loudly. I stood cowering like a panic-stricken roborovski as terrifying shuffling and shambling sounds stumbled up the cellar steps, into the hallway and up the main stairs where they seemed to disappear into somebody's room. I barely dared breathe, in case we had a homeless psychotic killer on the loose. (Well he seemed to vanish into Potishell's room, so he could well have been a psychotic burglar, if not a part-time murderer too.)

I had a much better day on Sunday than Saturday, when I only got up to collect methadone, then scurried back to bed, where I remained all day and all night until the Psychotic Intruder Snoring Scandal at 5AM. I get waves of depression and waves of excitement; nothing connected with nothing. All this crap from cognitive Therapy, implying that depressive mood is caused by negative cognition. Well my first sign of depression is nearly always massively increased sleep. At first the dysphoria comes in waves, seemingly unconnected to anything going on. For example: last night I was spooning coleslaw into a hot baguette when a heavy sinking feeling came over me. It happens like that a lot. I'm not thinking depressive thoughts at the time. Usually I'm not thinking anything. The negative thought process seems to arise in reaction to an already depressed mood ~ definitely not the other way round.

My hypomania improves my self-confidence massively, which remains high afterwards until depression eventually takes it down. So I think those CBT smart arses want to drastically rethink their theory. I'm sure that negative thought process ~ habitually telling yourself you're no good and that all you do will fail will perpetuate a depressive mood; but they most certainly do not cause it.

Surely I'm not the only person to experience things in this way. Please, some depressives get in touch and describe how it is for you.

I couldn't face the idea of xmas ~ not xmas dinner at Binky's house in mixed company where everyone except me and the duty care manager will have schizophrenia ~ without heroin. So I blew £35 on two miniscule bags, one for today, one for tomorrow. After that, I've promised myself NEVER AGAIN. O promises, promises...

{The bags truly are microscopic: less than you used to get for £10 in each and about a sixth of the potency. And this is the best stuff going!}
O and by the way it's not schizophrenia, or anyone from Binky's house that I cannot face:~~ IT'S BLOODY XMAS!

I do truly resent having to give money to Disorganized Crime (if drug dealers are gangsters then most are truly amateur ones) ~ wasting all that cash just to feel NORMAL. If methadone does give "normality" then it's a very unpleasant state to be in. I've told myself no matter how bad I feel for the rest of my life on methadone, that I'm just going to have to fight through it and make the best of the state of sickness methadone seems to induce in me.

The only time methadone has ever made me feel truly wonderful was when it brought out in me symptoms of full-blown psychotic mania (well I was taking no other drugs at the time so those of you who want to believe my mental problems are entirely drug-induced, even though they began in childhoood, will have to recognize that methadoen has turned me from a depressive into a full-blown manic-depressive.)

I am truly sick to death of relying on an illegal substance just to be able to cope with my day. I have lived without heroin before. Trouble is: before and after heroin I was mentally sick. But if I'm going to have to live my life clean, yet mentally deranged, then so be it. There are worse things in life than manic-depression ~  I can't think of all that many, but being on hard drugs is probably one of them.

I do apologize for all this self-pitying whingeing. At least self-pity is a sign of self-esteem. Far healthier than self-loathing (self-pity's opposite). I just want to be off heroin. Surely "I'm worth it", as the shampoo ads say..? Fair dos: xmas is the single worst day of the year, but I shouldn't need heroin to survive even that.

My New Year's Resolution is to STOP HEROIN FOR EVER and within the next 12 months to STOP METHADONE TOO. You see why I'm so put out at "having to buy heroin" just to cope with a day I'd rather was just expunged from the calendar? There will be no blow-outs. No last hits on New Year's Eve. I've already got the gear for tomorrow, so that's a fate accompli. But after xmas day, there's no excuse left for drug-taking. Not even in my drug-skewed mind, which is supposed to invent justifications for everything. That's part of the "illness" of addiction. (I do get a bit wearied by NA members' parrotings about their "mental illness" (of addiction). They wouldn't know a mental illness if it slapped 'em round the face. And quite a lot DO deserve a slap with a wet fish: eg for constantly mistaking my manic states for crack cocaine intoxication. The drug clinic seem to be able to distinguish even mild mania from drug intoxication and yet NA can't? Maybe that's because NA have one-track minds, even more so than methadone clinics. Well whatever...

As you can probably see, the only xmas spirits I ever believed in came in bottles. Because I don't believe in drinking any more, I don't believe in xmas either. Nonetheless:

I WISH YOU ALL A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS AND IF IT CAN'T BE MERRY THEN MAY IT AT LEAST BE TOLERABLE !

See you afterwards

G XxXxXxX




Aren't xmas songs horrible? Except for this one:

BAND AID: DO THEY KNOW IT'S XMAS


 
O and this. At least this one captures the true spirit of xmas
POGUES & KIRSTY McCOLL: FAIRY TALE IN NEW YORK


BTW if anyone's wondering why I insist on spelling the holiday with an X, that's because THERE IS NO CHRIST IN CHRISTMAS  ... But there IS a DOWNTON ABBEY SPECIAL on ITV at 20:45 so DON'T MSIS IT!

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

A Scattering of Thoughts after 8 Hours' Sleep ~~WOW!!!

I SLEPT EIGHT HOURS (at last (wow!)) and awoke at the distinctly inconvenient time of 2am. My appetite has disappeared almost completely, which is why I had such problems with a bowl of multigrain tagliatelle with mushroom sauce at binky's yesterday. Half of which I had to take home in a bizarre tupperware contraption after I couldn't manage it.

Also, I don't know whether I'm being paranoid but I can't trust, interpret, analyse, quantify or comprehend to any meaningful extent Binky's mystic smoking cauldron of emotions. (And Binky has Borderline Personality Disorder so she's nothing if not capricious.) ~That's why I'm bemused.

And that fake, bubbly mental health assistant who was on duty there yesterday. I didn't like her attitude at all. Yes she was "friendly" but I sensed something judgemental or condescending behind those watching eyes. I telephoned Binky on this point but she says I'm wrong. But the other worker, who's more Central European (Hungarian), intelligent and reserved who I do like B doesn't seem to care for at all.

BLOODY HELL if I'm meant to be a bit elevated what on earth does this say about our God-forsaken world because, in actuality, I FEEL absolutely and undilutedly affectively NORMAL so if my "normal" is the world's "hypomanic" what does that say abuot the unremittingly drab, grey, crushingly colourless existences of the overwhelming vast majority of the population who never experience persistently elevated, expansive clinically hypomanic moods at all? How can anyone possibly cope with an existence so joyless and meaningless, so spiritually down-at-heel? Yet when you finally feel OK, you're "bipolar"!

OH BUGERLUGS, Beverly's computer's on the blink and wouldn't it be wonderful if you could drop everything and fly your brood plus a few spare roborovskis and a new and improved computer to California? (We can set up a collection for the money. Or just resort to shoplifting: after all we ARE junkies!)

OH GO ON!

OK I've got to go. Anyone with a spare chirpy baby parrot out there PLEASE GET IN TOUCH I want a cute and glebbelly conure to sit on my shoulder. Beverlybabe knows someone with a sun conure and it's extraordinarily cute. Like an un-loving lovebird (but he adores his owner).

 Here's a picture.

OK OK I'm off .

PS Righty-ho I can't remember quite why I felt any need to do this but I checked the DSMIV criteria for a (hypo-)manic episode. To be "hypomanic" I need an elevated/etc mood plus three out of seven symptoms from a list and I score four or five if I'm distractable. I suppose I do kind of keep getting distractable. Why do I need to put this? O yeah it's something to do with justifying my point BLOODY HELL IF THIS IS MENTALLY ILL am I just a complete miseryguts or is there something wrong with the world. Because I feel pretty normal, despite fulfilling these lovely criteria. THE WORLD'S GONE MAD. There, I said it. What am I saying? THE WORLD WENT MAD GENERATIONS AGO..!

Blah blah blah that paragraph is terribly written.

BUGERLUGS ~~ PPS: THE ANIMATED ROBOROVSKI UP TOP IS FOR YOU!!

MUSIC: HARD TRANCE

Doesn't get any good till 1 min 30 in...

PPPS 2:55pm oh bloody hell I really DO feel "normal" ... what is happening to me?????????????

♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫♫

Anxiety and "Issues"

I HAVE banged up one bag of Lovely Heroin today and feel no better for it; I have one bag left. And don't even know if I want to take it.

Yesterday I felt horrible in the morning. Depressed and anxious. Then I took heroin and felt fine. All afternoon. Pinky asked if I was hypomanic. Come nighttime I felt OK and phoned my family.

All night long I slept deeply, only awakening once to pee out some of the three litres of lemonade I guzzle each day. I no longer drink alcohol at all.

So I got up at twenty to one feeling sour and blank and confused. Sometimes it pains me just to think.

Pinky has been transferred from mental hospital to burns unit where's she's awaiting surgery. When she set fire to her pyjamas last week, she burnt her leg so badly she needs SKIN GRAFTS. She's right across town so I don't get to see her for a couple of days.

People keep confusing me. The things they say; the things they feel. I don't want to take any of it on board. Eg Pinks talks about me as if I'm seriously ill. I don't like that, and I do not believe it.  If I mentioned it at all in real life, I would say I'm "a bit bipolar" but she says I'm "really bipolar" which is no longer true. There is nothing wrong with me any more. Apart from that I'm my old miserable self.

Dr Lovelace, the GP, says I should not take on the identity of "schizophrenic". I would not want to associate with a condition I do not have anyway. I said my moods are who I am. But mental illnesses are not and never will be "me". Yes in the past I have parrotted ideas that I've read. But psychiatry to me is like a religion: an object of fascination, not belief.

I'm totally off tea. I started feeling panicky earlier today and that makes me feel I should be shot dead. Anxious people are useless people ~ incapacitated by misplaced energy that crushes the heart. I loathe anxiety above every other mental state. If I get anxiety back, I will kill myself. Caffeine makes all this worse. It's just like the after-effects of crack cocaine ~ another drug I loathe.

There is nothing much more to say. If I analysed it, I'd ask myself why I should blog about feeling crap. The only reason is that I would keep a journal anyway. Saying these things in public is confusing enough. I know some people think I should just kill myself.

My blogfriend Bugerlugs, who has a cyclothymic nature anyhow, went on a beautiful two-week break to North Wales but came back not just depressed but panicky on top. I held back my opinion that anxiety is the absolute pits of psychiatry, sheer living hell.

And when her GP prescribed Prozac, I kept quiet on what fluoxetine would do to me: make me agitated, angry and dysphoric and a whole lot worse. My last experience with an antidepressant (mirtazapine/Remeron) was catastrophic. I never want to go near anything like that again. The stuff I'm now on (quetiapine/Seroquel) is for bipolar depression. But it's also antimanic and antipsychotic. So it shouldn't set me off on a psycho episode.

I hope Bugerlugs is OK. She sounds better. Her biggest problem now is a furry pingpongball-with-eyes robo-hamster who's been on the lose for nearly a week. They're tiny, flighty and much faster than normal hamsters. So it's like trying to catch a wild house-mouse. Except roborovskis are even smaller and pingier. And when on the lose, they switch to wild mode and don't want to be picked up.

Ukh. See that theory that distractions improve the mood doesn't work.

I keep thinking about Bugerlugs and what I said about anxiety. When I make these sweeping statements I'm talking about me. If Bugerlugs put a gun to her head I would be gutted. I don't want Bugerlugs to die.

As for this heroin (the other thing Bugerlugs and I have in common, apart from uneven moods) ~ I don't know what to do.

Earlier today, I ended up turning the issue over in my head. Telling myself it is destroying me: I have to make a break from it sometime.

Then I tell myself I will stop tomorrow. But I'm not naïve. When I think I've spent too much money, I'm able to put my fixation on ice for some days. So I've done a few days heroin-clean. But that day, the day that I still have a yen for gear and the money to get it ~ that "tomorrow" never comes.

Last year there were many days when I had the money but not the desire to use. My worker was asking me last week what has changed between now and then but I don't want to talk to some drug-obsessed drug-clinic worker about my mental equilibrium. Last year I had an "elevated" mood for weeks on end. This year I haven't been so high. I tested myself, by using again, and the habit came back. It's nowhere near as intense as it once was, years ago. I can do a day or several days on just methadone without climbing the walls.

And I want, I really do want to be drug-free and that means methadone-free as well.

I'm also aware that heroin is doing my mental wellbeing no good at all. For years it salved my misery. But now, it either switches my mood so I feel higher hours later than when I first took it. Or it does nothing much at all. Whatever it's doing to my brain cannot be good.

For a long time I was averse to methadone because I thought it would damage my brain.

I know what I have to do. That is: to give up all drugs, prescribed and otherwise. Then maybe my brain could be OK.

My family have said that if I leave the drugs ~ all drugs behind, I should be OK. I never used to believe that. Mainly because I wasn't OK before I went on heroin, so I didn't assume I'd be OK afterwards. But I never even had the chance to try Sobriety out ~ never gave myself the chance.

This is my single goal. To live drug-free.

Maybe next year I'll have some news to tell you...

Until then I can't promise not to put up a whole load more miserable posts. Sorry.



Illustrated: I couldn't think up an illustration, so I went abstract; I found this graph by accident but it shows something I've long suspected ~ that heroin is far more popular here in Europe than across the Pond...

MUSIC
I wanted to put up SOMETHING... but what?
This is an old trance classic,
AGE OF LOVE: AGE OF LOVE (JAM & SPOON MIX)
It has a PROPER VIDEO...



✔ ➝☨+✚✔ ➝☨+✚✔ ➝☨+✚✔ ➝☨+✚✔ ➝☨+✚✔ ➝☨+✚✔ ➝☨+✚

A hot and sweaty day...

THE WEATHER is weird. Freezing cold last night and yet sweaty. I finally slept yesterday morning but noly for four hours or so (6-10am). Then I went to bed after 6pm and got up at 11. I was up all ngiht feeling horrible. I tried to score but two dealers let me down. They claim to be on 24 hours and yet the night shift are fast asleep. My appetite was so bad I was nauseated by a plate of Lloyd Grossman on stuffed pasta. It took all day to finish. Then at 1am I bought a half-kilo (just over a pound) of humungous green grapes that were so lovely I polished off the lot in one go.

I felt so horrible last night. Sweaty. Skin crawling. Boiling hot then freezing cold. Exhausted and yet could not settle. Eventually I gave in and turned on the fan-heater (In August!) It felt good at first and then uncomfortable. I'd taken a Nytol ("one a night") and felt nothing. Thinking I was "clucking", I'd also boshed back an extra 10mg methadone. It barely seemed to make any difference.

After it had got light and two more Nytold later I did eventually drift off. I was up by 10:20. Trudged down the post office where a skinny drawn old man was the only one queueing.

Wow! It was my friend Dave, who owes me £130. We hadn't spoken for six months after I flipped my lid down the phone because he'd promised me £20 yet blown all his cash on crack. I'd stopped taking my old medication (risperidone) which had the side-effect of making me anxious bordering on panicky. So then I'd ended up angry, depressed and paranoid, sending increasingly irritated messages to Dave and his lovely wife Clara.

The first thing I did was to apologize profusely for being so rude. I kenw he wanted the money for crack and I'd been hassling him for it back when he'd just come out of hospital. Dave is pretty ill with HIV. Sometimes he's so sick he has to pull over the car ad just sit quietly at the roadside.

I told him I thought he'd died ~ and even if he was alive I was convinced I'd never see him again. I'm so happy he's alive. Clara was cool with me even though I'd been very agressive when we last conversed. She said not to worry, that's what happens between friends. I had lent him the £130 over several weeks and never expected to get it back in a hurry. She didn't look good either. Usually she's immaculately put together. But her hair looked almost scruffy and she's very pale and drawn too. They had to pull the car up round the corner to purchase £60 worth of crack (an "Arfur" (supposedly 0.875g) and a "20" (supposedly 0.4g but actually about 0.25g)).

He offered me a pipe but I told him the mere thought of smoking "white" makes me want to vomit. Crack is too intense. It's the opposite of heroin in nearly every way. No way could I indulge in it now. My mood has been "normal" for the past 24 hours, but already I feel myself going a bit "high" yet again. Also my mind is racing. I hear random ideas in the corners of my consciousness. I keep having weird kinds of waking dreams.

I had to fill out a silly form for the DWP (Social Security). If I hadn't been a little bit hypomanic I don't see that I'd have managed it. I kept ticking the wrong boxes and my answers got more and more babbly as the hypomania crept on. I'm so glad to have made my peace with Clara and Dave. I don't care about the money. I'm just so glad he's alive. They're calling me back later or tomorrow.

That mania of mine is ridiculously disruptive. Not having slept for two-and-a-half days has made me feel like we're in Wednesday still when the weekend's here already! Yes, Friday night has arrived!

I don't know where this was going so I'll cut it off now... Wishing a very cheery weekend to you all. Oh that's what I'd forgotten: my family sent me this amazing film called The Inn of the Sixth Happiness (1958) starring Ingrid Bergman as a missionary in Northern China. It's one of the most amazing films I've ever seen.

And here's another excerpt from Northern China: roborovski hammies. Tubby pingpong-sized furballs of entertainment. Best trotterdonkey pets I've ever kept ~ bar none.

PS did you know Bugerlugs has about 20 of more tiny trotting robos? She breeds 'em and even has one named after me. Unfortunately Gledwood turned out to be a girl. Bugerlugs found this out after she gave birth to a litter of "baked beans with paws" ~ as hammy "pups" appear!

★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆ ★

Be Fabulous!!   INN OF THE SIXTH HAPPINESS, ORIGINAL TRAILER   BBC "WILD CHINA" ROBOROVSKIS IN INNER MONGOLIA! Apparently they spend all winter underground with the enormous stores of food they hoard. Apparently the local peasants have learned to dig up the nests of some species, which can contain a bushel of grain or more..!       Illustrated: tiny trotters in a ring ~ a gaggle of roborovski hamsters (notice the "white-faced" variation); a cute robo hiding in its nest; Bugerlugs' baby robbies Bubby and Wamp...     ★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆ ★

Tiny Roborovskis

ROBOROVSKIS  are the tiniest little hamsters in the world...

 Just 5cm/2" long fully grown, they curl up into pingpong-sized furballs!

Inky-dinky on the palm of your hand...

Robos are famously hard to tame, but this is a bold little baby...

Smiley...

Grumpy...

"Hello!"

The true meaning of "white-out"... (Zzzzzzzz..!)

Squeak squeak squeak!

Aaah!

HOPING YOU ALL HAD A GLORIOUS

(AND NOT TOO HOT)

WEEKEND...

(ROBOROVSKIS DON'T LIKE THE HEAT EITHER!)

Music and Me

HERE'S the theme tune I was telling you about yesterday. Aparently it was written specially for the film but it sounds to me like a classic piece...
The piano theme that I like so much doesn't come in till 1 minute 20:~~~~~~~

MUSIC FROM THE OTHER BOLEYN GIRL




Yesterday I spent ages searching out a best version of Like a Prayer, because the music was going round and round my head. Here we have it:

MADONNA: LIKE A PRAYER LIVE (STICKY AND SWEET)



My favourite singers are Sinéad O'Connor and Barbra Streisand. I think the female voice is far superior to its male counterpart. I even read in the paper that men don't pay attention to women because the female voice is pitched to be interpreted by the male brain as music. Never heard so much cow-shite in my life, but who knows, maybe they have a point?

SINÉAD O'CONNOR: THIS IS A REBEL SONG

Don't be swayed by the title, as she points out, this is actually a love song:
And doesn't she look so much better with hair~??!




BARBRA STREISAND: EVERGREEN

From 1976 A Star is Born, featuring Kris Kristofferson:



Here is Elton John performing one of his old hits with the defunct boyband Blue. Usually I hate boybands ~ all that phoney heart-grabbing "I just want to get in your knickers" insincerity. Ukkh. But this is a good tune...

 BLUE FT. ELTON JOHN: SORRY SEEMS TO BE THE HARDEST WORD




AND JUST SO'S THE DAY CAN BE COMPLETE, HERE'S A FUNNY PHOTO FOR Y'ALL

Roborovski Hamsters, the Family Conference

WISHING A FURRY WEEKEND TO YOU ALL!

The Furriest Roborovskis

Furry Friday on Saturday

ROBOROVSKI HAMSTERS are the cutest rodents in the world!
Beady-eyed ...  
 And very tiny ...  
 Highly social ...  
 See how miniature a fully-grown robo is in relation to a human hand...  
 Once tamed, they enjoy posing ...  
 Going for a ramble under the egg-box...  
 After a hard day exploring the monkey-nuts...  
 The baby robos fall into deepest sleep...  
 ... And back home to Mummy and Daddy...

*******Last but not least... VIDEO!   Here are my three late hammies: Bashful, Itchy and Spherical in their one and only starring role on film... Aren't they pretty..!    Here are some roborovski hamsters in the wild in northern China...   WISHING Y'ALL A CHARMING WEEKEND!!

X-ray Day

I HAVE JUST COME BACK from the breast clinic. I walked all the way so I am exhausted. I had two x-rays taken of each side. They squeezed my nipples quite violently into a class contraption and then the woman ran away to hide behind a screen. I wasn't allowed in the women's waiting room, where I hoped I would pass as a lesbian. It didn't work. So I waited in a room with a couch and a screen until a nurse turned up informing me that a doctor had looked over my results and no ultrasound was necessary. Does this mean they know I'm so riddled with cancer I'll drop dead before another appointment is possible??~! I'm just kidding. Surely, surely this is a good sign..? But what on earth does it mean? And why wouldn't they tell me? I didn't even think of asking till I was halfway down the corridor and the nurse was gone. I doubted she knew much about my case anyway. I'm going to have to wait till my consultant appointment in June ...

I was really upset yesterday because I went to the laundrette and that stressed me out and tired me out. I felt so decrepit I nearly cried.

I could have slept at 6pm, but stayed up late. Next thing I knew it was past 1:30. I got into bed exhausted and didn't sleep for at least an hour. Then I woke up, freezing cold and dying for a cigarette at 6. Eventually I went back to sleep and got up at 10 . I was getting confusing racing thoughts all day and I think it was them that kept me awake.

Oh what a mundane day! I wrote out a really long post yesterday about how upset I was to be schizo. But that's going to take days to type in.

The Calorie-controlled diet is going well. I'm still at approximately 1500 Cals per day. Ironically I don't need to eat very much less than usual to achieve this, so I don't think this alone is going to make me thin. Exercise comes next. Now that might make a difference...? Problem is, I've never done any type of formal exercise programme in my life. The only sport I like is swimming. So I was thinking of forcing myself into three sessions of that per week. I was going to take it up last year, but laziness, shyness and body issues got in the way. I felt far too fat to wobble my near-naked portly frame in front of hoardes of strangers!

As far as I know, I've never gone over 220 lbs, 15 stone, 100kg. Currently I am around 14 stone, 200 lbs, 90kg. I haven't weighed myself since the diet began. That's partly because I judge myself not on what the scales say, but on how lithe I feel. My target weight is 11 stone, 154lbs, 70kg. I don't want to go below 10 stone, 140 lbs, 63kg.

I really wanted to see the chirpies in the birdery, but the old man seemed to have shut up shop and gone home. Wikipedia describes lovebirds as miniature parrots and that's why I want them . What better bargain can you get than mini parrots at less than £30 ($50) each?!??

Soon as I get a council flat (that means permanent public housing) I'm getting roborovskis, a massive furry American akita or lovebirds or all three!!

And last but not least: best pop performances of all time:

MICHAEL JACKSON: BILLIE JEAN, MOTOWN 25, 1983





MADONNA: "DANGEROUS LIAISONS" VOGUE, 1990 MTV AWARDS

 

Interestingly enough, both are lipsynched..!

All The Cutest

FURRY AND FEATHERY FRIDAY ON SATURDAY

A FEW OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS...

Roborovski hamsters in a ring...

Sleeping lovebirds...

A chirpy lovebird...

... And sleepy robos...

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND EVERYONE!