…Ready for It?

Sunday of the holiday weekend and I am feeling pretty good. I am up earlier than I would prefe, but it seems sleeping in later than six is something rare for me now and it’s okay; it gives me more awake time to get things done. I’m getting some reading done every morning when I get up, and yesterday I did do some chores, but tried to mostly relax while processing Victoria’s death. I also read a little bit, and mostly just tried to relax and gather my strength back. I have to run an errand today–a library book is ready for me, and I can swing by Fresh Market on the way home; oh, never mind, the library is closed for the holiday so that will have to wait until Tuesday after work, but I do need to go to Fresh Market anyway, maybe even wash the car while I’m on Louisiana Avenue. But I did get the bathroom and part of the kitchen under control and finished; so the downstairs looks a lot nice than it has since I fell ill, which is a lovely thing. I can finish it today and then work on the living room next, and maybe, just maybe, my house will finally be under control again and presentable and won’t make me groan with despair every time I walk in.

I also watched one of the few Hitchcock films I’ve never seen–mainly because it’s never been available before when I thought about watching: Suspicion, which stars Joan Fontaine (the only performer to win an Oscar for a Hitchcock movie, although she should have won for Rebecca and Anthony Perkins’ failure to be even be nominated for Psycho remains a hate crime) and Cary Grant. It’s based on the Francis Iles novel Before the Fact (of which I have a copy and have been assured it’s better than the film). It did make me think about a theory I have about domestic suspense and Gothics–that they are about women’s fears and therefore women’s noir of a type–and Suspicion is definitely one of those–does her husband–whom she catches in lies all the time and is kind of a bounder–love her or did her marry her for her money? (This is a very common theme in Victoria Holt novels, by the way, which I loved.) Something to write about for another time, methinks. The film itself was okay, and I am now more convinced than ever that Fontaine’s Oscar was a make-up for Rebecca, a far superior film in every way. (It may be time for my annual reread of Rebecca, in fact.)

I also read a bit more into Moonraker, which is fascinating in its casual misogyny, and it’s really hard-boiled attitude; as I said, Fleming’s Bond is so far removed from the Roger Moore/Timothy Dalton/Pierce Brosnan Bond that they may as well be different characters; Connery and Daniel Craig more captured the Fleming feel of the sociopathic killer/spy. The parallels between the villain in the book, Hugo Drax, and Elon Musk are so prescient as to make me wonder whether Fleming could see the future. More on that later, of course.

We finished watching Overcompensating last night, and it’s such a good show. It does an excellent job of depicting how terrifying it is to come out–to anyone and everyone–and how you wind up being a liar for self-preservation; I think all those lies is why I am so triggered by people calling me a liar these days, and I’ve never really seen this depicted in anything queer before–about how you can’t really be a good friend with people you can’t be honest with and have to lie to all the time. It really can’t be explained, but I still have a lot of shame from that time in my life, from when I was overcompensating and making an absolute fool of myself because no one was actually fooled and my true friends were delighted when I came out. The depression and faulty wiring in my brain certainly didn’t help.

And yes, I will always be grateful to those friends who were delighted.

I’m looking forward to relaxing some more today, to be honest. Paul has his trainer this afternoon, and when he gets home I am going to barbecue burgers and cheese dogs. Yes, I know you’re supposed to actually cook out on Memorial Day itself, but I’d rather do it today. I’ve been experiencing hunger a lot more lately than I can recall, and I am snacking on top of it all. I’ve been spending a lot of time looking at Door Dash to have something delivered, and I’ll probably pop that cherry next weekend. I’ve also been missing my mom’s cooking–her chicken and dumplings were sublime, and she made everything from scratch and from memory; her biscuits and gravy were to die for, and somehow she made the best pancakes I’ve ever had anywhere. I am going to make an easy chicken-and-dumplings recipe tomorrow; will definitely report back.

I am getting stronger every day, but I also still tire far too easily and am not even close to being back to 100% yet, which is fine. I just need to be patient–never my strongest suit–and let my body heal itself from the trauma.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; I hope to get my newsletter done today as well.