Category: cats

Drowned World

And here it is, Tuesday morning, and I feel pretty decent. I slept better last night than I have in a while, which was lovely, and comfy as the bed was this morning, I got up and wasn’t tempted to stay in bed longer than I could or should. Sparky wasn’t too hungry this morning, because he didn’t even come up before the second time I hit snooze. I didn’t do much of anything last night after I got home from work; I should have made groceries (or had some delivered) but it was 100 degrees when I got into the car to come home yesterday afternoon and it just sucked all the life out of me before I put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. Ah, well. I also didn’t do much of anything once I got home, either; I plopped down into my easy chair and Sparky curled up in my lap and that was it for the evening. I caught up on the news, started watching another episode of Scream Queens, which I interrupted when Paul came down to eat and we watched the latest Lanterns. I really love that show; it may be one of the best super-hero TV shows of all time; definitely up there with Agatha All Along, which was amazing.

And while I may not have done any writing yesterday, I did think about what I am writing right now, which is always a good thing, and far better than actually not thinking about it at all. I should be able to get this hellish transitional chapter finished tonight or tomorrow, and then I can move on to the next chapter. And yes, I just remembered I always have problems with Chapter Five. Sigh. It’s amazing how much we forget how painful writing a book can be whenever we start writing another week; helpful selective amnesia, much as how we here in New Orleans forget every year how bad summer can be; every year it’s like a horrific reminder, and the same goes with writing a book, especially when your only deadline is your own, you know? Contractual deadlines are entirely different kind of stress and aggravation, but much as I always worry when I sit down to write that words aren’t going to come, or that I’ll veer away from the story I am telling (it’s easy when your mind wanders as much as mine does), and while I always hate having to cut good writing out of my work because it doesn’t fit, no matter how pretty the language is (“kill your darlings”), sometimes it is necessary. (Right now I am resisting cutting this opening sentence for the chapter: There’s nothing better than a nap after some intense fucking. I love that sentence.)

Ah, my coffee is kicking in and I am feeling pretty good and awake and cheerful now (I know, right? What is wrong with me?) ; we’ll see how the rest of the day goes, shan’t we? We’re not terribly busy in the clinic this morning, so I should be able to get some of the paperwork done that I need to get done around my appointments. My new testing room is taking some getting used to, because I always have had my clients sit to my right when I am testing them; now they are on my right and the entire room is geared to the left instead of the right, which is taking me some getting used to; it’ll probably feel normal to me by the end of this week. Changes of habit aren’t easy when you’ve been doing something almost exactly the same way for twenty years, you know?

The news continues to be grim, and while I see many people being excited about a blue wave, that’s not taking into condition the possibilities that there will again be election shenanigans, or election outcome shenanigans. We’re already well on our way down the path to authoritarianism; it’s now a question of what will be left to rebuilt from once this administration and its un-American treason. (Interesting how the presidencies regarded by historians as the most corrupt in our history always has an R after their name, isn’t it? Grant, Harding, Nixon, Bush II, and now this thing.) I also believe two things about yesterday’s dialing back of AI by the plagiarists who want to make “thinking machines’; one, that the money dried up and it’s all about to crash and take the economy with it, and two, they’ve finally realized they can’t contain it, and that technology, in the wrong hands, is extremely dangerous. (Has no one at all ever watched the original Terminator movie, or Blade Runner, or The 100, or read Dune? Christ, even Azimov killed off all the robots in the universe except for one!)

Oh, I did finish writing a newsletter about Flipper, which is scheduled to go out tomorrow morning. I have to say, I am enjoying myself writing these newsletters, and I am slowly but surely beginning to feel more confidence about writing them, which is a really good thing, methinks. The fiction I’ve been writing at a snail’s pace is also much better than things I’ve done over the last six or seven years–or at least, I feel much better about them. I feel more confident about writing in general, I think; it’s just a matter of reining everything back it and focusing on getting things done.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hope you have a great day, thanks as always for stopping by, and hope to see you again tomorrow.

Those boots? With THAT bandanna? Gurrrrlllll…

Ray of Light

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. Sparky is being needy this morning for some reason, but that’s fine. I’m still a bit groggy this morning, but I finally had a deep night’s sleep–I didn’t sleep well all weekend–and have a lot of emails to answer. When I get to the office this morning, I have to finish setting up the new testing room I use at work since they moved me last week, andI don’t know how busy we are going to be, but I need to get cracking on so many things. I’ve been a bit lethargic since my birthday–subconscious depression on being a senior, perhaps?–but…while understandable, I don’t have to like it because consciously it doesn’t bother me at all.

Or perhaps I doth protest a bit too much.

The Saints lost yesterday 31-30 in overtime, which was exciting if disappointing, and it was, overall, a pretty decent overall day. I hadn’t slept well, so wasn’t a ball of fire yesterday morning, but I did get another load of dishes done and did some more cleaning and organizing during the Saints game. Once that was over, we switched to the US Open, followed by this week’s Reacher, which is always fun. I then queued up another episode of Scream Queens–the Lea Michele makeover episode–and then we watched Supergirl, which was far better than I had heard or hoped it would be. I’ve always been partial to Supergirl–aka Superman’s lesser known, far overshadowed cousin–and was crushed when DC killed her off in the Crisis on Infinite Earths reboot of their entire universe. She returned in that universe later, but she was a by-product of the matrix that healed Superman after he died in the 1990s. I hated that the first big screen adaptation was so badly fumbled, and I didn’t last more than a couple of episodes of the television series. Bit I greatly enjoyed this movie, and Milly Alcock was terrific. I always thought her back story was dark and twisted–she was older when Argo City was destroyed, and so her PTSD is way worse than Clark’s, as the only survivors of an extinct race. I’m sure it didn’t do as well as it should have because the comic book incels were all girls can’t be super-heroes, duh as they opened yet another bag of Cheetos Puffs.

There was a lot of stupidity on-line yesterday, and all I could do was roll my eyes at the ignorance on display. I think my favorite stupid post was some stupid homophobic bitch who referred to The Song of Achilles as centering “Achilles’ often overlooked friend.” Um, did you even fucking read the book, you idiot? Yes, yes, they were just friends. Really close ones, the kind that actually fuck, and were buried together so they could be side by side for all eternity. Suuuuure, Jan.

But as I sat in my easy chair watching the US Open final after the Saints game yesterday, an idea flashed through my head for a reboot of a short story I want to submit to an anthology call. I started writing the story originally during #metoo (yes, it was a #metoo story) in which I had a horrible male author drop dead at a cocktail party honoring his retirement from teaching creative writing at the master’s level, who had helped launch a lot of careers–but he was always an inappropriate pig with his women students, and my main character–a lesbian crime writer, witnessed some strange activity at the party before his death. (I also had his past behavior echo things I’ve seen or heard male authors say to women authors–y’all really have no clue what women think of you, do you?). I’ve rewritten it any number of times but it never really has worked, and….then last night, I knew how to make it work and the new opening line came to me. I got my laptop out, wrote three paragraphs (it’s completely rebooted now), and then opened the current chapter of the book and wrote slightly over a thousand words on it, too. I also solved the mystery of the book last night, and realized my killer (in the book) wasn’t the real killer and then it all clicked into place. So, I was very pleased and happy when I went to bed last night, which was awesome, and then I slept well, which was even more awesome.

So, I am feeling pretty good this morning as I head back into the spice mines. I hope this week will be a good one for all of concerned, and I will be back bright and early in the morning again. See you then!

This was the view from our rental condo in Acapulco twenty years ago. Such a lovely trip.

Sanctuary

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and how are you this morning, Constant Reader? I didn’t feel like I slept very well when I first got up again, but now that I’m swilling coffee I feel more rested and relaxed than I thought I would when Sparky started rubbing against me and purring. It was also very nice to come downstairs to a cleaned and organized kitchen. I worked on the kitchen during the Michigan-Oklahoma game and did more during Alabama-Kentucky. Kentucky was terrible through the whole game, and Alabama played down to their level for three quarters. Likewise, LSU had an equally poor start against Louisiana Tech before turning it on in the second half. After LSU was winding down, we switched over in time to see Texas’ last minute comeback to beat Ohio State (good for you, local boy Arch!), which was also fun, as was Auburn’s domination of Southern Mississippi; overall, a good day in college football around the Lost Apartment, and the Saints start playing today, I think at Detroit? I really do love my football weekends in the fall. I was thinking about that very thing yesterday–and how much my love of football is connected to love of my family because we always watched football together.

Looks like another Democrat has thrown the trans community under the bus, and as I said, I am almost done completely with that party. I am so glad I never sent that prick Talarico a cent, and I am tired of grudgingly voting for them because they’re not quite as homophobic as MAGA. If leftists can become single issue voters and send the country down the drain, why can’t queer people? Oh, we have to unite, no matter what, despite homophobia being in our faces every day and the Democrats are too fucking afraid of having a spine that they are partly to blame for where we are now–and don’t think I”m not including Schumer and Jeffries in that enormous flaming pile of shit. Not one Democrat will call out Talarico and the other, either. That’s how much we matter to this group of spineless appeasers who can’t make a stand for humanity and decency. Never, ever, trust a fucking Christian minister, and don’t trust the bootlicking bottom feeders like Keith Edwards1 that support them and label them progressive. Listen to Black women, for fuck’s sake.

I’ve tried now, for years, to justify watching Real Housewives shows despite kind of feeling like a bad child getting away with something every time I do watch. The women are generally terrible people for the most part, and I try to embrace the mentality of a friend–“you shouldn’t feel guilt for doing something you enjoy”–but when the something that you enjoy makes you question on occasion if you yourself are contributing to the national brain rot and success of truly horrible people for simply being truly horrible people. I suppose there is something to the notion that they aren’t popular for being terrific, which is what they do seem to think. I need to really explore this more–why I enjoy the shows, what I get from them, and I believe a lot of the appeal is escapism, like the old night time soaps in the 1980s. A good case in point, though, is when you see housewives out of their usual element–like on The Traitors or Ultimate Girls’ Trip, I get a better impression of them and find myself liking them more. (Porsha was a lot of fun on The Traitors, for one example.)

But this Biermann child rape scandal is absolutely horrifying and gets worse with every new revelation. I have personally hated that woman since the first time I saw her on Bravo, and could never understand why this creature had a following on a show that was giving us Nene and Sheree, and more Queens later; we did not need this gold-digging narcissist on our television screens for any amount of time, let alone the spin-offs or bringing her back to the original show again. I remember her saying “I want to die in Dior” in that first season, and now it looks like she should die in prison for failing her children and most of all her own daughter; while still making excuses for her predator son and bailing him out and calling his more recent accuser a liar and other names, when she already knew he’d raped his sister. That is a disgusting human being. And no, I am not saying Kroy is without blame here, either. I never understood that relationship or marriage, honestly. I tried to respect her choices, I’ve tried to think of positive spins on her; she’s unashamedly herself, no matter how awful and amoral that self may be–but then I think about her offering her teenaged daughter up for a blow-job for John Legend tickets for the same son and you really begin to wonder what the hell was going on in that house? My sympathies are for the other children, frankly. As for Andy Cohen, he continues to show himself the worst kind of gay man, using and humiliating women and making them grovel for crumbs from his table.

Sigh.

I did send out my newsletter yesterday morning, and it got a mostly good reception, I wondered, because it was a reflection of 9/11 and the way this entire century has seemed so regressive ever since, even while some rights were gained, far many more were lost. (you can read it by clicking here.)

This weekend was good so far, overall, and I feel rested and good. I hope to get the rest of the apartment cleaned and tidied today–probably will do that during the Saints game–and I even reorganized the refrigerator, which was way overdue.

And on that note, I am getting another cup of coffee and making some breakfast before I head over to my chair and read for a bit. I hope to get some writing done, too–but…Saints game. See you here tomorrow morning, Constant Reader!

You know, he didn’t lose until he wore a T-shirt underneath to hide his nipples. Just sayin’.
  1. If you’re a friend of Taylor Lorenz, you’re a racist piece of shit, too. Hope this helps, Keith. ↩︎

Secret

Work-at-home Friday, and here we are! I am taking the day off because I have a doctor’s appointment this morning and I have another one in the afternoon. Sigh. That’s what sick time is for, after all, and I am going to try to get caught up on things I’ve let slide longer than I should have. It rained most of the day yesterday, along with flash flooding in the metro area and yes, they were thunderstorms. When I woke up yesterday morning, I opened my eyes in time for a very bright flash of lightning, followed instantly by a low rumble of thunder that lasted as I pulled on my sweats and fumbled around in the dark like Velma on Scooby Doo Where Are You looking for my glasses. By the time I got downstairs, turned on the kitchen lights and the coffee maker, it was pouring. The water draining off the roofs and the rain fall on the side yard made a stream about two inches deep, and the current heading toward the street was very, very fast. I’d used my wagon last night, and hadn’t folded it up and put it away, so it was out there filling up with water. It was still raining heavily when I went to work, then the rest of my work day it was off and on all day. Yesterday was an odd day at work, actually. We’re restructuring the department again, which meant the testing room I usually use needs to be used by someone else–our next nurse, which meant a big production of moving me to another testing room. Long story short, they set me up in the wrong room but I couldn’t get into the room they wanted me in because someone else had already set up in there for the day. So, I couldn’t set it up or anything, and piles of the stuff I used in the original room was stacked up on a table, which made the room look messy, and yeah–I didn’t like that off-balance feeling. It wasn’t raining when I ran some errands on the way home, and then Sparky and I got in the easy chair and got caught up on the news. Paul came home late, but we watched the finale of The Shards (more on that later), then Coco’s exit from the US Open before going to bed. I did sleep very well, and I actually feel pretty good this morning. I am going to do some chores around here before cleaning up for my appointment, and this afternoon I’ll get to work cleaning and doing laundry.

It’s also 9/11 today, and the 25th anniversary of that horrible day when everything changed. I’ve been working on a newsletter about my own memories of that day and time; and everything that happened afterwards. It’s a very somber day–kind of how Pearl Harbor Day was more of a thing when I was a kid, because it had only been twenty years since the Japanese attack when I was born. Not even twenty; I was born in August and the twentieth anniversary was in December, of course. We barely even notice December 7th anymore, which is wild to me; when I was a kid I thought we’d always remember World War II–which is clearly not the case.

The Shards was infuriating. For one thing, nothing was resolved in the finale. Why would you open the season finale of a show with a major subplot involving a serial killer with a new, completely unrelated murder and turn the last episode not doing much with the serial killer at all into a whole new whodunnit, which is completely unresolved. Nothing was resolved, everything was left hanging, and I have no one to blame but myself for watching another beautiful mess produced by Ryan Murphy. I am going to start reading the book this weekend–people I know and respect loved the book and hated the show (quelle surprise), so I am hopeful that the book will provide more of what I wanted from the show (and didn’t ever get).

There are some good games this weekend, but LSU is playing Louisiana Tech tomorrow night at the same time as Texas-Ohio State, which means flipping back and forth between games. Will the Tigers have a big night against La Tech? Will Clemson rebound from last weekend? The Saints also play this Sunday, and I imagine we’ll watch the US Open men’s final, too.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and adjourn to my chair to relax a bit before getting to work on chores and getting ready for my appointment. So, gave yourself a lovely little Friday, and I will be back tomorrow morning bright and early. Til then!

Inside of Me

Sunday morning! I got up earlier than I thought I would this morning, given how late I went to bed last night because the LSU had about a two hour rain delay and didn’t get started until almost nine. I didn’t see that as a good omen, honestly, but…yeah, more on that a little later.

It rained off and on pretty much all day yesterday, which was nice. I felt good, if a bit on the low energy side, but it was fine. I had some groceries delivered, managed to get a lot of chores done, worked on straightening up the books, washed the bathroom rugs, and did two (!!) loads of dishes. Sparky was also cuddly and wanted to sleep on me most of the day since Paul wasn’t home; he worked out with his trainer and then went to the gym to do cardio for a couple of hours. I worked on the computer files some, cleaned off the kitchen counters, and organized the refrigerator. I should have been more tired, shouldn’t I? *snicker* In the morning, after I posted my blog and a new newsletter (which you can read by clicking here!) I went into the living room for cuddle time with Sparky. I finished watching The Burbs, and watched this week’s Real Housewives of Orange County (yawn) before putting it on to the Alabama game, which I didn’t need to pay attention to, and then had the Baylor-Auburn game on. It’s still too early in the season to know how good anyone is yet, so we don’t know what the seasons holds for anyone–I mean, Michigan almost lost at home to Western Michigan yesterday–which makes it all the more interesting to watch while dismissing “expert” opinions on who is or isn’t good.. It’s nice not being so emotionally vested in college football anymore (a topic for another time), to be honest, and dialing back my fandom in my dotage isn’t something I saw coming, but…it’s probably better this way. That emotional roller coaster I used to ride during LSU games was exhausting and unnecessary.

The Auburn-Baylor game turned out to be a lot better than I expected; wasn’t sure what to expect from either (I do like Baylor coach Dave Aranda, he was our defensive coordinator in 2019) and Auburn has a new coach this year. Can the new coach turn Auburn around and get them winning again? Auburn made a goal-line stand on a two-point conversion in the final seconds of the game to win, 17-16. Good for you, new coach! While it wasn’t an impressive outing for Auburn, they lost the close games most of the time in the last five or six years.

The LSU-Clemson game was weather delayed, as I already mentioned; we were also having a thunderstorm here. I managed to cookout between waves of the storm, and after watching the US Open during the delay, finally settled in to watch the game. Oh. My. God. As I said yesterday and reiterated above, it’s hard at this point in the season to tell who’s good and who isn’t. So, yes, it’s entirely possible that Clemson is really bad this year–but LSU beat them 51-10, and it wasn’t even that close. I’ve not seen LSU beat a top tier college team that badly in–well, since the Oklahoma game in the play-offs with Joe Burrow. The defense was incredible. It was also Dabo Swinney’s worst loss in his time at Clemson–maybe as a head coach in general. Sam Leavitt and that new running back Dilin Jones certainly looked amazing. Even the back-ups, going in late in the third quarter, looked really good. I had hoped for a big win, like I always do, but 51-10? Never in my wildest dreams would I have anticipated that. This is going to be a very interesting season, but Coach Kiffin sure seemed to be having a really good time last night, and Death Valley was rocking. I am trying not to get too excited, choosing to keep my “cautiously optimistic” hat on for now, just as I did with the 2019 team.

I also loved the signs at Gameday (I didn’t watch; because Macafee) that I saw on-line later: You can’t spell lawsuit without LSU and Don’t sue me Jayden I’m only 5.

I started rereading Celebrity by Thomas Thompson; it’s a rather long and deeply involving crime story that takes place over the course of over twenty years. It’s always been one of my favorites (Thompson wrote one of my favorite true crime “novels,” Blood and Money) and a friend mentioned it recently on social media, so I got it down from the shelves (I have my original copy still, hardcover) and started looking at it again last weekend, rereading the opening. Does it still hold up? No crime novel would ever get away with being this long now–it would have to be marketed as something else; I don’t know what it was considered or marketed as on its original release. I bought it because I’d loved his earlier true crime writing, and this intrigued me. I’ve always loved stories that go back and forth in time, with the reader not knowing much about what’s going on in the present. The book opens from the point of view of a cop at the hospital with someone having emergency surgery; all we know is someone has been arrested, someone is dead, and someone could die, but not who they are and how we got to the point, which is an excellent way to open a book, if you ask me, It’s not until we go back in time that we learn who the three central characters are, and we meet them as high school seniors whose graduation party plans have been rained out by a flooding rain…it’s also quite well-written, but I also wonder if anyone would publish it today. It’s going to make for a good essay, methinks.

I got an email yesterday with the subject line Six Gothic thrillers for fans of horror. Excuse me, what? It was one of those lists of books things, but…Gothic isn’t always horror, and horror isn’t always Gothic. Rebecca, for example, is a Gothic novel that isn’t horror. It really annoyed me–Gothic can be any number of other subgenres, but…I will have to concede that Gothic thrillers may appeal to horror fans. As someone who is a fan of horror and Gothics, I used to make that same mistake–but classifying books is not an exact science in the first place.

I also read a Richard Matheson short story yesterday. Matheson is one of my favorite writers; it’s amazing how many films and episodes of television shows (like The Twilight Zone) are based on his work, and I never think to include him (and Robert Bloch) as authors who have influenced me. I should revisit some of this novels…anyway, the story was a Western called “The Conqueror.” It’s actually very poignant, about a young man who has come west to prove himself as a quick draw duelist. It doesn’t end well, and is kind of sad; someone who, in 1871, wanted his fifteen minutes of fame. It also reminded me again what a master Matheson was.

I saw an anthology submissions call for crimes without corpses; in other words, any crime but murder. I don’t think I’ve ever written a non-murder crime story, which is kind of wild. Why do I always only think of murder when it comes to crime? Something to ponder at any rate.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am playing today by ear; whether I read or write or clean or any combination of the above will remain to be seen predicated on what I am feeling like. I feel a bit lazy today–staying up so late but still getting up early is not recommended–so today is what it is. So have yourself a merry little holiday Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will be back again tomorrow morning! Till then, stay cool.

These kinds of staircases always make me think o The Haunting of Hill House. I would never climb one, but they are pretty to look at.

Waiting

Guten morgen, Samstag! Hope you’re doing well, Constant Reader, on this first day of the holiday weekend. Today is also the first Saturday of college football, with games on all day. I don’t care about most of them, honestly, but will probably watch Baylor-Auburn this afternoon and of course, LSU-Clemson tonight. I am sure I am going to hear endless commentary on Coach Kiffin and these lawsuits, which is not going to be fun to listen to, especially since there are very few “analysts” on ESPN whose opinions I respect or take seriously. They’re paid to talk, period, and most of the time during games they are just bullshitting with each other about nothing I want to know anything about.

Yesterday was rather chill and lovely, the kind of Friday I truly enjoy. It started off differently–me having to get labs drawn and then go to the office for a meeting, after which I ran errands. I didn’t have nearly enough coffee, and by the time I was finally home and working it was nearly noon, which is too late for me to have more. I also didn’t have lunch until later, but managed to get a nice flow going, with chores and work and so I got more done than I would have thought, and was feeling pretty good and rested most of the day. We watched Venus and Serena play doubles at the US Open, which took care of most of the night. I made Swedish meatballs last night–they were very tasty–but as a result have a messy kitchen this morning, which I’ll have to do something about. But I feel very rested this morning, which is terrific, and I have until 2:30 to do things around here before the Auburn-Baylor game. I need to order some things for delivery, too. I’ll cook out around five-ish for our “tailgate” like I always do, and since there’s football to be watched (reading while the afternoon game is on), I won’t get any writing done. I’ll clean and organize and read while the games are on, and this morning I need to order groceries for delivery. The Saints don’t play until next Sunday, so I imagine we’ll have the US Open on all day Sunday. And of course, there’s also Monday, and a short work week this week.

But it’s somehow September already, with a few more months to go before 2027 rolls around. We also have the midterm election insanity to get through, too. Heavy sigh. I am not optimistic, and I certainly don’t trust polls, and I absolutely do not trust the Heritage Foundation or the Federalist Society, let alone the billionaires and Elon. (And no, I will never forgive any of the people who voted for this. Ever. No sympathy or charity from me, thank you very much, and none of you are taking any responsibility. You absolutely voted for this; if you didn’t see it as clearly as the rest of us, that isn’t our fault. Own up to your bigotry and racism for once in your miserable existences, do self reflection, and maybe–just maybe–I’ll try to forget what fucking ignorant hateful trash you are. Someday, maybe, but certainly not any time soon.)

Meh, this may turn out to be a recharge day and you know, that’s okay, too. I just ordered the groceries to be delivered and am about to get a second cup of coffee (or “joe,” if you want to be hard-boiled about it) and maybe put some bread in the toaster. I also need to wash my face again, and may as well get cleaned up once I finish breakfast and post this. (The play-by-play is fascinating, isn’t it?) Sparky let me sleep past seven this morning, and was lying against me when I woke up like the sweet boy he is. I don’t want to clean up this kitchen, but I can’t really do anything in here until I do. Maybe the toast and second cup will finish the job of waking me up and making me lively. It’s not that I don’t have energy this morning, I’m just not having a lot of luck summoning it up at the moment, hee hee. (This, by the way, is why I call myself lazy–instead of getting to work I just laze around instead of doing anything productive and make excuses for it. (I may have the anxiety under control, more or less, now–but my brain still clearly has a lot of issues.)

And on that note, I am going to finish my toast and second cup and am about to head to my easy chair for a few moments, and I’ll probably read for a bit. The groceries will be here between 12 and 2, and I can get a lot done before then, methinks. Or not. We’ll see. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again in the morning.

It’s amazing how many muscle groups he had to engage to take that shirt off, isn’t it?

Words

Thursday morning, and another good night of sleep was had! I feel very rested and good for a morning this late in the week. I have a lot to do today at the office, which should help the time pass, and I may stop and make groceries on my way home this evening. I did feel good when I got home yesterday, and so did some chores before giving Sparky a place to sleep for a bit while I watched the news. I know everyone thinks the midterms are going to change things…but my deeply cynical self fears the country has already fallen and there is going to be chaos and violence. I always hope I’m wrong, but I’ve been Cassandra so many times before; so many things I foresaw decades ago have come to fruition.

In good news, piece of shit transphobe Seth Moulton lost his senate primary challenge to Ed Markey, and oh, look! A so-called progressive trashed trans people and wanted to throw them under the bus! “I’m sorry if my words hurt you.” The if is the same thing as a “but” in my opinion and implies he only insulted and offended some trans people. No, bitch, most of us queers support our trans siblings and throwing them away like garbage shows you’d do the same to others if you thought it politically expedient. All that work, your entire career–sabotaged and savaged because you finally showed us who you are and we believed you. Fuck off, and good luck getting elected again in Massachusetts. Any Democrat who throws the trans community under the bus is MAGA but wearing a mask (hello, John Fetterman!), and needs to be thrown under that same bus so they can see how it feels. I suspect they won’t like it–they usually don’t. See: MAGA regrets on TikTok. Like the cattlemen their precious God-Emperor just fucked over. They thought they were hurting other people, and if it affected them, well, he bailed them out with a welfare check last time, didn’t he? It ain’t happening this time, and now they are begging the people they voted to hurt to help them out. My favorite response? Turns out you can’t own both the libs and your farm. NOW you want us to care? You get upset when you ask you who you voted for? I periodically wonder about all the people I cut out of my life for being amoral; are they still proud and gleeful?

I also finished a newsletter and sent it out yesterday, which you can read by clicking here! I watched The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas again1, this time through a more modern lens, to honor Dolly’s passing, and I talked about the movie in the newsletter. I am also working on one to send out on Saturday, and yes, it’s about college football and yes, mostly about LSU. I generally don’t pay a lot of attention to all the rumblings and talk before games actually start–nobody really knows anything about anything yet, it’s way too early in the season–but I did see some stuff about Lane Kiffin and LSU pissing everyone off again; something to do with signing players who had signed NFL contracts but never played or were cut before the season? I don’t know and I don’t care to know, frankly. The whole paying players but they’re not pro is very weird to me, and opened the lid to Pandora’s Box; it also seems weird to say you can’t pay for college and get paid if you signed but never were paid in the NFL? The NCAA is clearly not capable of managing this new system, if you want my unasked for opinion, but there’s naught to do but sit back and see how everything plays out. But I will say–the amorality at the state government level seems to be seeping into the LSU athletic department. This recent thing with Kim Mulkey is despicable–and the rehired basketball coach for the men was fired for cheating the last time he was at LSU. I guess we are entering LSU’s villain era.

Apparently, Gloria Steinem died, which isn’t a surprise as much as it is startling, I guess. She’s been around forever, and she helped change the world for women. Reviled and hated by conservatives for daring to suggest that women aren’t from another planet but actually capable human beings, she just went on telling truths that conservatives didn’t want to hear. I read some of her work back in the late 90s/early aughts when I was trying to undo my male-centering upbringing. It was revelatory; the systemic abuse and control over women the patriarchy encoded into our society is so deeply rooted that it’s shocking when you start seeing the world through a feminist lens. I recommend reading Steinem for any man who wants to unpack his internalized misogyny; it’s certainly an excellent place to start. Personal growth doesn’t end when you graduate high school.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here at some point tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved the shine of a sweaty torso—but long sweaty hair always looks greasy.
  1. It’s been a really long time; probably decades. ↩︎

Rain

I woke up to rain this morning, which is always nice. I slept pretty well last night, but woke up at four. I didn’t get up, of course–I was able to go in and out of sleep for the next two hours first. It won’t last all day, more’s the pity. But I feel rested this morning, which is nice. I didn’t get as much done this weekend as I would have liked, but I can live with it, you know? It’s kind of lovely having no pressure on me other than the kind I put on myself, but…I also don’t put very much pressure on myself anymore, either, so…I may be taking this self-care too far, but it’s kind of nice to just go to work and come home and live like non-writers do for a change. I do have to run errands tonight, as something is being delivered today–I always order a new pair of moccasins/house shoes before football season, and I always get the tan ones with LSU in purple on the toes. I probably should change them out more than once a year, but oh, well.

I also got a new pair of shoes over the weekend–my special, feet-and-ankles-are-fucked-up HOKA shoes, and I love them already. Hopefully this will clear up some of the ache I’ve been feeling in my hips a little over this past week. The joys of getting older, seriously; aches and pains and everything else you can imagine–and complaining about them all too! But I don’t ache all the time and it generally doesn’t affect my moods, either–but I am a lot less accommodating than I used to be, too. I don’t make things harder for myself for someone else anymore. I probably should have allowed more ego to develop when I started publishing, but having had plenty of experience dealing with arrogant asshole authors before joining their ranks that I tried not to be like any of those assholes. I did have a chip on my shoulder back then because people tended not to take me seriously–and there were a lot of people who didn’t and were absolute shits to me. And yes, I am still carrying the grudge and always will. My grudges are going with me to the grave.

Don’t want me to think you’re an asshole for the rest of your life? Don’t be one.

I watched more of The Burbs yesterday, which I am really enjoying. I was only going to watch one episode before doing some chores or writing, and I got sucked in and next thing I knew I’d watched three and Paul was up. Once he was up any productivity for the day was not going to happen; my favorite thing to do is hang out in the living room watching television with him. After he got up, we finished off Outer Banks and are now caught up on The Shards. I was a bit sorry to see the end of Outer Banks, after five seasons of nonsensical plots and jumping the shark and just in general silliness…so we are now supposed to believe they are rich, own the island, and lived calmly and peacefully ever after. Why not? (As I said to Paul, the money stuck this time because JJ is dead and can’t fuck it all up for everyone, like he did every single other time.) It probably did run too long–it could have been wrapped up after the first or second season, but it was a big hit for Netflix and making them lots of money, I guess. I would have absolutely loved this show when I was a teen or in my twenties, with no quibbles at all, and can see why it was popular. Crazy adventures with our heroes! (My favorite was how they flew from the US to Uzbekistan without passports, crossing restricted airspace or identifying themselves to ATC, and didn’t need to refuel on the way–and then came back the same way. LOL.

There’s a system off the coast that may develop into something. It looks like it will be heading for the Louisiana/Texas border; we’ll be east of it so the wet side, I think? It probably won’t make it to hurricane levels, but a storm or depression (outside shot at Category One) can still be plenty nasty and bring lots of rain to New Orleans.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

The Chauvin, Louisiana Sculpture Garden, in Terrebonne Parish

Where Life Begins

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and so far, so good. I got up to feed Sparky and went back to bed for another few hours and was even reluctant to finally get up when I did at last. But my coffee is good, my coffee cake was even better, and I do feel good this morning. I did nothing of consequence yesterday, other than having some things delivered and picking up a little bit. I didn’t engage my mind much with anything–didn’t read, didn’t write much, didn’t do anything but let myself have a recharging day, and it seems to have worked. I actually wrote some stories in my head while I was sleeping, or in that half-sleep thing, which is incredibly cool. I need to be more productive today–at least a little bit. I did page through Valley of the Dolls and Peyton Place, reading random sections while thinking about the books themselves and their writers.

Hopefully, when I get around to writing those essays, they will be good.

I also spent time reconnecting to Dolly tributes and video compilations. I’m very glad they are renaming the Nashville airport for her. What a legacy to leave behind, right? So many incredible stories of kindness and charity and compassion, and none of it performative–as most of it was done quietly and without fuss. She loved the queer community when it was dangerous for someone with her fan base, her long time driver/assistant was a trans man, and she loved and embraced drag queens.

From now on, all I am going to say to people that hate drag queens is “Oh, wild, so you hated Dolly Parton? What a weird thing to admit.”

It’s kind of wild, but I had thought about writing a Scotty book about the murder of a Milo-type a while ago but chose a different story at the time; I don’t remember which it was; but it was after he did the whole “child rape can be consensual and good” thing–but I am sure a strike against it was how deeply unpleasant he is and how much I would hate learning more so I could credibly create a character from that foundation. Now, I am thinking about it again for this Scotty I am building, and it could easily be shoe-horned in. Hmmm, this could really be fun.

The goings-on over at HWA are troubling, to say the least. Much as I love horror, I’ve tended to keep that community at arms’ length…well, because there is always a lot of drama going on in that community. I’ve personally never had a problem with HWA; all of my dealings with them have been incredibly pleasant, and I even put on an event for them. I’ve seen a lot of drama over the years on social media and, choose to stay out of it. I’ll see posts here and there, but don’t look into it very deeply with a not my circus not my monkeys mentality. I’ve served on boards and even run them in a leadership position. I’ve spent more time in my life at board meetings than I would have liked or preferred, retrospectively. I don’t criticize organizations publicly, or their boards, for that matter. Even when I disagree with a policy or a statement or anything for that matter, I try to keep my mouth shut because the work is hard and any system (waves around at the world in general) can be hijacked and suffer institutional damage at the hands of a bad actor, or good intentions not landing right with the community. Unless I am going to get involved to clean up the mess, I am not going to criticize. I am not saying others can’t, of course–I wouldn’t know any of this if people didn’t debate these issues publicly, for example, and some of these controversies are general enough to be of interest and concern to all authors (AI issues, for example). I only speak for myself, I want to make that abundantly clear; I don’t even claim to speak for authors that I am friends with and talk to regularly. I think it’s a shame, though, but there seem to be a lot of factions and not a little bit of hypocrisy in the horror writing community. It’s a shame, because it’s a marvelous genre and there are any number of talented and lovely writers within it. I don’t like watching train wrecks, but always seem to get sucked into watching them–which is something I need to work on.

Speaking of horror, we watched Obsession last night, which was very unsettling and very well done. It wasn’t terrifying or jump scary; it was just very disturbing and creepy but impossible to look away from. It’s another variation on the be careful what you wish for trope, but the acting is phenomenal and it’s brutal and horrific–but I also can’t help thinking, it would be nice to see this from the woman’s perspective. Imagine the horror of being obsessively in love with someone while knowing you really aren’t but you can’t control yourself. Now that would be terrifying.

And now, I am going to get something more solid to eat than a slice of coffee cake, another cup of coffee, and then I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Screenshot

Keep It Together

Saturday!

His Majesty let me sleep late this morning–I did wake up at six and went back to sleep after a glance at the clock–and I feel rested and good. Yesterday was a surprisingly good day, all things considered. I got my work done, got the chores done, we went to Costco, and last night we watched the newest episodes of The Shards and Reacher. I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked; the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and the counters are a mess, too. I have to order some things for delivery this morning, and then I’ll be all set for the weekend. My current plan is to not leave the apartment except to either take out trash (there is quite a bit of it), or to cook out. Next weekend LSU has its first game and it’s Labor Day weekend and it’s Southern Decadence, but this delicate magnolia flower actually can’t really handle standing around in oppressive heat anymore. I didn’t do any reading or writing yesterday, so hope to get to some of that today while I clean up around here and get the house under control. Ambitiously, I want to finish this chapter and a short story draft I’ve been working on, but we’ll see how everything goes. I also want to get out another newsletter this weekend, so I need to decide which draft I am going to finish.

But I do feel pretty good this morning, which is a very lovely sign that the day might be a good one.

Honestly, I’ve been in a bit of a funk this week. I thought it was because of the one-two punch of Dolly Parton and Tim Curry dying, which definitely played a part in it, but it’s also the weekend of the Katrina anniversary, which has always been an subconscious downer and mood-suppressor for me. It’s why I was so low-energy this week and unfocused. (I did enjoy seeing Carrie Underwood getting dragged for the filth she is on Threads and her post about Dolly. She really thought we’d forget her bending the knee for the tangelo toddler; she thought fucking wrong. I also laughed at loud at some stupid show business “journalism” website posting that Kristen Chenowith play Dolly in a bio-pic–the nicest response I saw was “do you want people to actually watch it?”)

This has been rather an interesting week, has it not, for stupidity and bigotries? Good Good now is claiming Callaway set them up to take a hit while buying their stock back at a much lower price because it dropped dramatically in trading price because of the abuser ad, and threatening to sue the. Oh, cute little stupid white boys–welcome to unregulated capitalism, and for being so fucking stupid you trusted a bigger company as a “partner.” You were of use to them until you weren’t. (I suspected this whole thing was manufactured to drop the stock price; you were the idiotic sexist jerks who gift-wrapped it for them.) But I also think it can easily be proven that people were demanding that Callaway abandon the partnership, too. I also love how the “boys” at Good Good (they aren’t men) feel betrayed and cheated and made the patsy–well, the number one rule of the business world is never trust anyone completely; always keep an eye open because they will screw you at the first possible moment, but it all sounds like Good Good trying to cope and shift blame….typical for white people, especially white men who are used to being catered to on everything. Maybe this lesson can make up for that high school diploma and college education you passed up, Garrett Clark, because you are now toxic and so is your brand…and it was all very public.

Good luck to you getting that stain out. But I’m sure you were smart with your big income and didn’t blow it and safely saved some and made some conservative investments with a low but solid and steady return.

Yeah, right!

Milo Yiannopoulos was arrested by ICE yesterday when he flew into New Orleans for his employer’s concert here last night. Mr. “we need millions and millions deported” is now going to be deported because he turned on his original foul lord and master. This is an excellent example of leopards feasting on his face or FAFO. I hope he enjoyed his stay in whatever detention center ICE has set up here, and Louisiana doesn’t concern itself too much for the health and safety of anyone incarcerated…so either they’re using one of the local places (I’ve crossed my finger for Orleans Parish Prison myself, but I’d prefer to see him picking cotton at Angola.) No, I am not celebrating ICE; I still consider them no better than the Gestapo or the STASI. I am, however, enjoying another far-right piece of shit getting exactly what he wanted for other people. I hope he’s banned from the country. Fuck that ex-gay pedo enabler/excuser, now and forever. His mugshot was terrible, and I love the petty bitchery of Homeland Security releasing it. They’re finally detaining the worst of the worst, and the schadenfreude is as delicious as a face is to a leopard.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

I love this view of the quarter and the river from the window of the Tennessee Williams Suite at the Monteleone Hotel