Category: cats

It’s All I Can Do

Tuesday and all is well in the Lost Apartment. It was, indeed, lovely having yesterday off. I had my last infusion yesterday, and yes, I was fatigued when I got home. I swung by the Apple Store while I was out in Metairie, and came home to finish reading Megan Abbott’s brilliant El Dorado Drive (more on that later). Last night, we tried to find something to watch but just weren’t in the mood for anything we found that looked likely for us; we actually started watching two things that I’d forgotten we’d already watched! I decided to read the room and went to bed early. I didn’t want to get up this morning, either. I am feeling fatigued this morning–physically, not mentally–which will certainly make today a challenge. The coffee is going down well and that’s always a good thing. It looks pleasant outside the windows this morning–but it’s probably like soup out there.

El Dorado Drive was classic Megan Abbott–noir to the core, and about the complicated, complex relationships between women. This time, the women are sisters, all born within the space of four years or so, who grew up wealthy and privileged…until the auto industry cratered and they are having to deal with, well, not being rich anymore and not really knowing how to handle the poverty. All of the sisters owe money–the eldest’s husband is dying of cancer; middle sister Pamela is going through a horrible divorce; and youngest sister, Harper (who also is a lesbian) is barely scraping by…so of course, they are the right audience for a get-rich-quick scheme that is simply too good to be true (isn’t everything easy?). I loved this book, and couldn’t put it down yesterday. I read it through my entire infusion, and then picked it up once I was safely home to finish. I will do a more in-depth review for the newsletter, methinks.

I also decided to move on to The Hunting Wives next, leapfrogging it up to the top of my TBR stack because I want to read while my memory of the show is still fairly fresh in my head. I bet there’s not as much sapphic activity in the book as there was on the show, but I am very hopeful the book isn’t terribly different from the show? I will report back, of course, once I have the answer. I also started my reread of Shirley Jackson’s Life Among the Savages and The Secret of the Red Scarf. I did a load of dishes but forgot to turn on the dishwasher. Must remember to turn it on before leaving for the office.

Tonight I am going to stop and make a small bag of groceries on the way home from work. I don’t need much, just coffeecake, cat treats, and Tylenol PM. I also need to balance my checkbook and pay some bills. Pay-the-Bills Day is tomorrow, but some are due today that I’ve not paid yet. Must do that today, as well as update my checkbook. There were a lot of Barbara Michaels and Elizabeth Peters ebooks on sale the other day, and I downloaded all of them (I need to stop buying ebooks on sale…).

I also need to do some writing tonight after work.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll most likely check in again in the morning.

Don’t Cha Stop

It was supposed to rain this morning, but the sun is shining and the sky is bright blue. I slept well again last night until Sparky got me up this morning, wanting his breakfast. (He is such a sweet boy.) I had a lovely day yesterday, actually. I ran my errands in the morning, ordered groceries to be delivered last evening, and had a pretty nice day overall. I finished rereading my Jay Bennett and Barbara Michaels novels1, and hope to finish reading the Megan Abbott today. I also watched a lot of television while doing chores and reading before falling asleep in my chair last night after a nice, relaxing day. Here’s to having another today, right?

Netflix has a new show about the 2024 SEC football season called Any Given Saturday, and so I watched about four episodes of that while Paul slept on the couch. It’s very well done, and while I don’t feel it pays enough attention to LSU–and what there is focuses on games they lost (really? No coverage of the amazing upset of Top Ten-ranked Mississippi?)–it is nice to see the stories on the other teams and get a recap of the season. The show, of course, is hype for the upcoming season; the pro pre-season is already under way. I think LSU can be really good this year, but LSU always manages to find a way to LSU. There are only two episodes of the show left–we switched it off to watch Wednesday, which we also didn’t finish last night–that I may have on in the background this morning while I read.

I think I am going to go ahead and spend some time with the news and my coffee this morning before finishing this. I’ll be back momentarily, Constant Reader. (According to the weather, we should be having a thunderstorm in five minutes, which I don’t think is going to happen, given how it currently looks out there.)

It’s now noon, and it never rained here. It does look like the calm before a storm outside my windows at the moment, but I’ve already closed up my wagon and put it away (I’d left it out last night after the delivery) just in case. I got cleaned up–even shaving–and that woke me up and made me feel being productive for a while. I put Any Given Saturday back on to stream, getting through the last two episodes while reading more of El Dorado Drive and marveling at what a fucking MASTER Megan Abbott is; she may be the best writer publishing today, and is definitely in the top tier without question. I also picked out my next reads: the reread will be Life Among the Savages by Shirley Jackson2 and the juvenile/young adult will be The Secret of the Red Scarf, which belongs to a close-to-forgotten girls’ series featuring Nancy Drew rip-off Kay Tracey, and I won’t decide on the new new-to-me read until I finish the Abbott–I’m currently torn between Mia Manansala’s latest or Disco Witches of Fire Island or Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages; all queer authors, I might add.

But The Hunting Wives might win the race in a photo-finish.

As I finished off Any Given Saturday, I found myself very curious about the lack of coverage for Texas, Georgia, Oklahoma, and Auburn, among others…and LSU and Alabama were only covered in reference to their games with South Carolina and Vanderbilt, period. Was it about getting some of these lesser-known programs more coverage? And it’s definitely difficult to cover 16 teams with any degree of depth and certainly every team had a story to tell this past year. But it definitely whetted my appetite for the return of college football, which was its intent, so mission accomplished, Netflix.

I’d forgotten we’d watched Towards Zero in between the SEC show and Wednesday; I’d seen bad reviews of it so was curious as to what we would think of it. I remembered the story as soon as I saw the geography of the setting, which is crucial to the crime, and yes, I was proven correct in the third episode. It was fine, if perhaps not really needing a third episode? It did feel like it was dragged out more than it needed to be, which is not a good sign for a murder mystery.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I need to do some picking up and organizing and cleaning, and I am also going to write for a while before probably returning to the Abbott. I doubt I will be back later; I may finish a newsletter today and I may not. If not, I will be here again in the morning before the infusion. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader!

  1. I will write newsletters about both authors at some point. ↩︎
  2. I’ve always wanted to write about this unique Jackson book; I usually reread The Haunting of Hill House every October. ↩︎

My Best Friend’s Girlfriend

I’ve always thought today’s title, an old classic by the Cars, would make for a great y/a title. What if a gay teenager was in love with his straight best friend (it happens), only to have the best friend get a girlfriend the gay kid suspects is evil, as in occult evil? No one believes him because they think it’s jealousy…this story always springs to mind whenever I hear the song.

And that first album by the Cars is still a jam, almost forty years (!!!!) after release.

Saturday morning here in the Lost Apartment, and Sparky let me stay in bed later than usual, which was lovely. I am slurping down my first cup of coffee and have already had my coffee cake, probably moving on to cereal in a moment. I do feel good and rested this morning. I took it easy after work yesterday, simply sitting in my easy chair and morphing into a cat bed for a worn out purring kitty. I finished watching Hurricane Katrina: Race Against Time, which I really appreciated. I did get a little teary when listening to the experiences of the people who couldn’t leave and the clusterfuck of the response to the catastrophic levee failure (which failure was lain entirely at the door of the US Army Corps of Engineers, where it belonged), and the response was entirely a systemic failure. It also went after the media reporting, which was wrong and caused problems for the efforts to rescue people and get them out. I did remember how angry the reporting by the legacy media made me (fuck Fox News and their racism now, then, and forever) because I had a flash of anger again at the incompetence. I’m glad I watched, but I will never stop mourning the New Orleans that was before, or the people we lost. I also decided to go ahead and write a twenty years later essay for the newsletter. Last night as I watched, I was trying to remember what I actually did write about Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath (besides the blog): my novel Murder in the Rue Chartres; my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” and a shorter, edited down version called “I’m Still Dancing”; and the short stories “Annunciation Shotgun” and “Survivor’s Guilt.” I think part of the reason I wrote so little about Katrina and the rebuilding was because I didn’t want to be defined as a writer by the storm.

But I think there is another essay about Katrina inside of me that I need to write. I may start writing it this weekend, but we shall see.

I do have to go pick up some prescriptions and some groceries while I am out, and I am going to potentially order some more to be delivered this afternoon. I also made good progress on chores yesterday; I did all the bed clothes, and a load of dishes that needs to be put away, and I also cleaned off my kitchen counters. I also picked some things up around here, too. I want to write and read today, too–once I finish this I will go to my chair and read for a bit before I go run those errands and get them out of the way so I don’t have to leave the house tomorrow. Monday is my last infusion and I took the day off so I can come home and rest and read some more. Huzzah? Huzzah! I think we’re probably going to move on to watching Wednesday’s second season tonight, too.

I do feel good this morning–the cereal was an excellent choice, but now I need toast–and so I am hopeful I’ll be able to get some things done today. So, I probably should put some bread in the toaster and bring this effort to a close for the day by heading into the spice mines for the rest of the morning. Have a lovely and terrific Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later today or again tomorrow morning.

Adorable out gay Olympic gold medalist in diving Tom Daley of the UK

Moving in Stereo

Good morning, Constant Reader! Hope you sprang forth from your bed wide awake and a-rarin’ to go, because today is Wednesday! We’ve made it to the halfway point again this week! Huzzah! Although this week hasn’t been terrible, other than being tired when I get home from work every day. I feel oddly more awake and alert this morning; not sure what that is about, but I am not going to argue with it, either. I’ll ride this wave as long as it lasts before petering out at shore.

It rained off and on for most of the day and it was gloomy a lot yesterday. I am never really sure what’s going on with the weather when I am at work; my testing room doesn’t have a window, and I don’t get near the windows on the floor very often. But a couple of clients were wet from the rain when they came in, and the few times I was around the front desk I could see the rain. It was nice when I made groceries after work, but it started sprinkling when I got home and it rained for most of the night. I got very tired yesterday afternoon, just as I was getting ready to head home. (I did cancel one errand I was going to run because I was tired, but was very proud of myself for making groceries.) I also did some writing work when I got home, too. Yay for me! I’ve not really experienced the page opening and me falling into it yet1. I haven’t had that experience in quite a while; which I think is what has been fueling the Imposter Syndrome2 of the last few years. But I am slowly doing more and more, and my creativity, despite being covered in dust and cobwebs, is getting better, too.

I slept well again last night–trust me, I do not miss insomnia–and could happily go back to bed this morning. It looks like a sunny morning out there, and the forecast shows no rain for the day.

Then again, yesterday’s forecast said no rain until the evening, too. They’re inevitably always wrong here in the tropical season.

I do think being tired affects my ability to write, because now when I’m tired physically, I also am tired emotionally and mentally.

Being Tuesday, I made tacos for dinner last night when I got home and in spite of being tired, I managed to do the dishes before making dinner. Paul came downstairs, and I queued up Unspeakable Sins, which continues to be a rollercoaster ride (spoiler: the only decent character in the show is the escort; everyone else is kind of awful but so fun to watch) and we’re over halfway finished. There were two more kidnappings and now everyone knows the faked death was actually faked and Claudio is still alive–and last night we did find out who was behind everything going on. I kind of suspected that character already, and they just became a lot more interesting! One thing I have noticed about this show–I noticed it right away–is how they’ve embraced the physical beauty of Andres Baida and how much the camera sexualizes him in a way usually reserved for women3. He is shirtless in every episode at least once, and we generally see his bare ass every episode too–and how the camera lingers on his body is the way it usually does on women. His introduction to the viewers was him rising from a swimming pool in tight little square cuts, slowly revealing his muscular form as it rose, shining and wet and dripping, out of the water. Last night there was an episode where he was being tortured for information by a ruthless gangster. His wrists were chained together, his shirt was gone, and his arms were straight overhead, the chain holding him up. He looked like he was being lifted right out of his low-rise pants which were barely hanging on, his face and torso covered in oil and sweat and some blood, and it looked almost like a scene from a gay bondage porn film.

And tonight Wednesday drops. Huzzah!

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

I always thought Michael Newman was hotter than David Hasselhoff on BAYWATCH.
  1. Callback/shout out to Misery by Stephen King. ↩︎
  2. Whom we are no longer listening to under any circumstances. ↩︎
  3. Make no mistake, I am on board with the sexualization of men in film and television. ↩︎

All Mixed Up

There are three “disturbances” out in the Atlantic with the potential to develop into tropical systems. None are a threat to the Gulf Coast (at least, not yet), but we are heading into the time where hurricane season is super-busy. This year is also the twenty-year anniversary of Katrina, so I’ll be avoiding all the coverage of that for the most part. Even after twenty years, it’s still hard for me to watch any of that stuff–but maybe this year I should break the power of the PTSD and watch it all. It was such a horrible time, truly…but we did watch that show about Memorial Hospital (Baptist). But twenty years on, maybe it is time to watch some of the coverage that I pointedly ignore every year. I dunno, we’ll see.

Yesterday I felt a little under the weather–stomach again–which had me concerned that I was having a reoccurrence of the colitis, but this morning I feel fine, even well rested for a change. I managed to get a lot done at work yesterday, which was great, and I made groceries on my way home. I was tired when I got home, but I wrote for a very little while before Sparky’s need for attention wore me down and I went to my chair. We watched some more Unspeakable Sins, which is such an amazing rollercoaster ride. More has happened in the seven or eight episodes we’ve watched than happened in an entire season of Melrose Place. Nobody does soapy thrillers quite like the Spanish language production companies. So far, we’ve had a failed blackmail seduction, two kidnappings, one faked death, and several criminal syndicates–and of course, lots of videos of wealthy and prominent people at sex parties. We also have a teenager whose stepfather got him addicted to drugs and abused him.

That is seriously one fucked up family.

We’re finally out of the heat advisories, and the maximum temperature for today is 89…which is low for August but I’ll gladly take it. Rain (gasp) is also in the forecast. The rain is predicted for late this afternoon, around when I’ll be coming home, actually, so no errands tonight for sure. I didn’t want to get up this morning, but…that’s really nothing new on a work day, is it? This is a slow week in the clinic (next week is busy busy busy), which is nice, since we’re having a site visit tomorrow. I think I have everything done that I need to have done for the visit, which was the entire goal for yesterday.

I am feeling good about most everything and am not being critical of myself for not pushing myself harder, you know? I’m also kind of still adjusting to life again, which seems to take longer to do the older I get, and seems more necessary as well more often. This has not been a great decade for me, and I can definitely state that my sixties haven’t been the best so far (I’ve pretty much forgotten the fifties, in all honesty). But the inexorable passing of time continues, as the sand in my hourglass continues to run, and my instincts are telling me to make the most of my time, so…sure, I get the I don’t want to’s still, and of course, the temptation of recharging with Sparky in my lap is always there, but I know I can get the work done when I put my nose to the grindstone.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

Just What I Needed

Monday and back to the office with me today. Yesterday was nice and relaxing; I worked on writing for a while, didn’t do as many chores as I should have, and watched a couple of shows. I didn’t want to get out of bed again this morning–no surprise there–and am a little bummed to not have another day off as of yet. But I’ll survive, as I always do, which is no more than I should expect, one supposes. It’s hard to believe that it’s August and my birthday is looming, as is football season and Bouchercon is also coming to New Orleans the first week of next month. I’ve got a lot to get done in the month of August, and I really need to buckle down and apply my nose to said grindstone. It’s just tough when you have to battle fatigue and exhaustion all the time.

We watched the Netflix documentary series Amy Bradley Is Missing, which was interesting and terribly sad at the same time. I cannot imagine the pain of having a family member disappear without a trace the way Amy Bradley did off that cruise ship. As a disappearance of a family member is the crucial plot element of a book I am researching to write at some point in the future (The Summer of Lost Boys), watching this kind of counted as research for that, as it gave me insight as to how a working class family would react to such an occurrence and how the family would be permanently damaged….which also got me thinking about aftermaths to crime and horror stories. How do you go on with your life after fighting supernatural threats? Or after being a murder suspect? Or having someone close to you commit a serious and most heinous crime?

After dinner, we started watching a new Mexican erotic thriller series on Netflix, whose title translates to Unspeakable Sins. Like all Spanish-language erotic thriller series, there’s plenty of sex and nudity; we only watched three episodes (there’s two seasons of nine episodes each) but even trying to summarize the plot thus far–but the primary plot concerns Helena, a wealthy woman in a very controlling marriage to an older man, who starts having an affair with a very hot young escort, whom she convinces to flirt with her bisexual husband so they can get video of the two of them together and she can use the video as leverage to divorce him. Ivan pretends to be a journalist doing a story on Claudio, Claudio is attracted to him, but things go south–they fight and Ivan’s story is he ran away. But there’s blood all over the house and Claudio is now missing…can Ivan trust Helena or is she playing him for a fool, setting him up to take the fall for his murder?

That’s the primary story, but there are subplots as well that are just as intense.

Ivan is played by gorgeous Andres Baida. I mean…

Sexy Andres Baida
He was also in Control Z and Who Killed Amy?

Gorgeous, just gorgeous.

I also spent some time processing seeing friends from high school that I hadn’t seen in almost fifty years. (The fact that it’s been almost fifty years since I graduated from high school also needs processing, but that will have to wait until I am done with this initial processing.) Every time I’ve had a conversation with someone from high school in the last thirty years–it’s not often and it’s not many–how they remember me, and high school, are vastly different from how I remember things, but they also never knew how miserable and unhappy I was. I always put on a good face; I always try to make the best out of every situation I find myself dealing with as they come up, especially when it’s not something you can change or alter in any meaningful way. As I’ve stated before, I’ve always thought I was odd-looking and never really had a fit body until I was in my thirties. But…seeing pictures from back then…I was wrong about how I looked (I’ve always been wrong about that, frankly) and my impact on other people. Both women remember me as having a really muscular fit body and being handsome and very kind and considerate and thoughtful–and funny; I’ve always been funny.

And I did work on writing yesterday. I edited another piece and wrote out what changes need to be made to it to make it stronger. I also did some laundry and a load of dishes, but didn’t pick up too much of the mess in the apartment. I do enjoy spending down time with Paul and Sparky, and really wish we were both retired and just hanging out around the apartment all day. Paul likes to be busy, though, so I do think he will take some adjusting if and when he finally does retire. I won’t be retiring for another few years yet; not going at 65, much as I would like to, so I have to get my shit together leading up to when I finally do.

After work today, I have to make groceries on the way home, and I’m hoping to do some writing tonight before we jump back into Unspeakable Sins.

So on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be checking in with you again in the morning.

I’m In Touch With Your World

Sunday morning and I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. Sparky, of course, had opinions, so I got up and fed him and had a cup of coffee and now am feeling a bit run down this morning. I think after I post this I am going to repair to the easy chair for the rest of the morning, and do some reading before settling into the saddle to write. I didn’t write yesterday–I ran all my errands in the morning and then spent the rest of the day cleaning and organizing everything we bought/had delivered on Friday. We finished watching The Hunting Wives (more on that later), and then caught up on the news before I got ready to meet some people for dinner (more on that later). After dinner I came home and fell asleep in said easy chair, and Paul had to wake me so I could go to bed.

And here we are.

I really enjoyed The Hunting Wives, which was Dynasty-like in its over-the-top characters and storylines. The first season ended on a cliffhanger, and a humdinger of one at that, with a body being buried in the woods. The show was full of twists and turns and surprises, but I was pretty sure who the killer was and, he typed modestly, I was proven right. I did doubt myself a few times, but every time someone else would all under suspicion, I couldn’t figure how that person–despite their motive and their actions–could have done it. Brittany Snow was amazing as lead character Sophie, and overall, the entire cast was excellent in their roles. I’m going to probably read the book at some point, now. Perhaps another new-to-me author I am going to enjoy? I don’t need more authors to read at this point, but…I kind of want to see how different the book is from the show.

So, last night I had dinner with two women I went to high school with in Kansas and their husbands. It was nice to reconnect with the distant past once again–I graduated from high school almost fifty years ago, and maybe the most interesting thing about said reconnection is hearing how people you went to high school saw you back then as well as what they remember. We’re always so certain that people see us the way we see ourselves, aren’t we? I was, for the most part, miserable for the most part when I was in high school, for any number of reasons, but I always thought, you know, like I was weird-looking and there was the gay thing and being dorky and all of that. It’s strange to hear contradictory opinions to what I was so roundly convinced was true, you know?

Not to mention seeing people who knew me when I had hair. I don’t encounter that very often.

So, it was very nice, actually. I’m still processing it all, to be honest, but…I’m glad I made the time to meet them all for dinner.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Adrian Zmed

Photograph

Saturday morning and I feel rested after a very good night’s sleep. I got my work done yesterday after which we went to Costco, and groceries were delivered last night. All of this wore me out on top of all the chores I got done yesterday as well. I finally collapsed into my easy chair, Paul and Sparky curled up on the couch, and we binged about three or four episodes of The Hunting Wives, and there’s only two episodes to finish off tonight. I have a lot of errands to run this morning–prescriptions, mail, and two other stops–and then want to spend the afternoon writing and reading. I am having dinner with two friends from high school (!!!) that are in town for the weekend later on this evening, but it’s early enough so when I get home we can finish off the show, which is amazing (although there is no way that kid has a basketball scholarship to Baylor).

We’re supposed to have thunderstorms tonight, which will be fun as it always is (and will help me sleep very well again). Tomorrow I don’t have to leave the house at all other than taking out trash or using the grill (I think I’m going to make beef stroganoff tomorrow rather than burgers), which will be nice. I am going to try to do some more straightening up around here today–and will try not to be horrifically lazy the way I sometimes get on weekends–around writing and reading. I’d like to finish the Abbott today (or this weekend), and I also need to get through my Elizabeth Peters and Jay Bennett rereads as well. I’m not really sure what to read next: Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen, perhaps, or maybe some horror, I can’t and don’t need to decide right now, either. I think my next Gothic reread might be either a Phyllis Whitney or Victoria Holt. Not sure on the kids/young adult next read or reread, either.

And I think Wednesday comes back next week, which is cool.

I did make some good progress on my workspace yesterday. It’s still a bit messy this morning, but just some straightening and filing is all that is necessary to get it all under control again. I think I’ve been feeling closed in and claustrophobic in the house because we have so much clutter everywhere, which isn’t much fun (the claustrophobic feeling), and that’s also because the heat and humidity of August is almost a sentient thing outside my windows; something oppressive and thick to the point where it feels like we’re in a cave sometimes. I just don’t have the energy to spend an entire day focused on cleaning, you know? Sparky making messes everywhere he goes doesn’t help on the cleaning front, either–always knocking shit off flat surfaces, like all cats do. He’s lucky he’s so sweet and cuddly.

I did actually think about what I need to revise this weekend yesterday, and I kind of know what to write now; it’s going to be an extensive revision, which should be fun to do and I will feel like I accomplished something today when I am done.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. I’m going to go catch up on the local and national news (depressing and horrifying as the national news inevitably always is) before I go run the errands and kick the day off.

Don’t Shoot Shotgun

Goodbye, ruby Tuesday! We’re still having a heat advoisory today, and at this point I am trying to remember the last time we weren’t in one. I slept well again last night, and again didn’t want to get out of my comfy bed this morning. Ah, well, get over it, Gregalicious. I had a good day at work yesterday and got a lot done; but once I was home my ambitious plans for the evening fell by the wayside yet again as I provided a cat bed for Sparky and actually fell asleep for a little over an hour! That never happens. I did get some work done last night before falling asleep, and I am hoping that I’ll get some more done tonight. I am not going to be hard on myself because part of this new leaf/new stage in my life is being kinder to myself when I don’t live up to my own expectations.

We’ll see how that goes.

I also wrote two more entries, about the short stories I contributed to a couple of anthologies that are about to drop, and that felt kind of good, you know? I reread the stories for the first time since copy edits and you know, they are pretty good stories, and I am very pleased to be in anthologies with such terrific writers surrounding me. I also sent out a newsletter, about my reread of The Dark on the Other Side by Barbara Michaels, so yeah, I did get some writing done yesterday. I usually don’t count the blog and the newsletter as writing work, but they really are so I really should, shouldn’t I? It’s sometimes hard to believe I’ve been blogging since December of 2004–so blogging will be turning twenty-two later this year. Since I will also be 64 shortly, that’s about a third of my life. And now I’ve been a published author longer than I was not, if that makes sense? I’ve been a published author over half of my life now.

A definite milestone.

It’s also nice to feel reconnected to writing again, which is something I just realized that I am feeling again after a very lengthy period of not feeling connected to it, if that makes sense? I barely remember the beginning of this year. anything before I got sick is just kind of a blur nowadays, but I do know the writing of the new book wasn’t going well–and I was really exhausted going into getting sick, which made writing even harder. I don’t remember last year a lot, either. My memory is rather pathetic these days, and I am having trouble remembering things I should know. (While watching Wicked the other afternoon I could not remember Michelle Yeoh’s name to save my life; I wound up looking it up on my phone.) But this morning I feel like of course I can get all this stuff done, which is a lovely feeling and one I’ve not had for a considerable time.

We started watching The Hunting Wives last night on Netflix, based on the recommendation of a co-worker, and while we only watched the opening, pilot episode, it seems like the kind of soap operatic melodrama I often can’t get enough of (see past addictions to All My Children, General Hospital, Dynasty, and Melrose Place) and I am really looking forward to the rest of this first season. I went straight home after work last night, no stops anywhere, and while I may not have gotten any chores done (I need to empty and reload the dishwasher, and there’s clothes in the dryer) but the straightening I did this weekend is still holding firm. I may go straight home tonight, too–I need to have some things either picked up at the grocery, or delivered–and I can wait to go by the postal service tomorrow on the way home.

So, once I make it through my day job, I can get straight home and get to work on the chores before settling in to do some writing. I’ve promised a short story to an anthology–I already have two that with a bit of revising would be perfect–so I need to get back on those revisions, and I still have some other writing to get done that I really need to get done by Friday as a preference, Monday as a last ditch effort.

So, on that optimistic note, I am going to head into the spice mines this fine hot Tuesday morning. Stay cool wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back later or tomorrow morning to check in with you again!

Gods of War

Monday morning and we survived yet another heat advisory weekend. Something tropical is bringing us more rain later this week, but the heat will continue its efforts to bake us all alive every day in the meantime. It was a lovely weekend, and one I was sorry to see end. Perhaps not as productive or effective as I would have preferred, but it was nice to chill and relax and get some things done. But it could have been worse. I can always be lazier. Sparky let me sleep late again yesterday, but I did manage to get most of my chores done. I spent some time with Megan Abbott’s latest (it’s superb), which has me thinking about my own writing (as the best authors always provide inspiration, and a desire to do better work myself) this morning as I peer through the condensation on my windows this morning.

And facing down yet another week of work. Woo-hoo!

We finally watched Wicked Part One yesterday, and it was very well done, but…I also didn’t connect with the material, either. I am probably the only queer person who doesn’t worship at the altar of The Wizard of Oz, so Wicked has never appealed to me as anything other than “oh, what a clever idea!” It moved very quickly and was at the end before I knew it–“is this ‘Defying Gravity’? Doesn’t the first movie end with that song?” (It’s also the only song I know from the show.) Visually it was stunning, the acting was top-tier, and everyone was terrific–and the story never drags or becomes boring or dull. I also adore Jonathan Bailey, so his supporting turn was deeply appreciated. I appreciated the accomplishment that is the film, but it was…okay, I guess. A better way to put it is I didn’t get caught up in the magic at any point while watching. It was very good, though.

This appears to be very good news on the HIV/AIDS epidemic; an injectable twice yearly that is 100% at blocking infection? That will surely have an impact on my job–clients certainly won’t have to come in every three months anymore, if they only need the medication twice yearly–but who knows? I do think it’s important to get every gay man and trans people on this schedule to eradicate the disease at long last in this country. This news also made me miss my friend Victoria deeply again. Every time I see a funny political meme I think I need to send this to Victoria–oh. Sigh. How many conversations have we had about the HIV/AIDS plague and all the people we’ve regrettably already lost? Queers who lived through those horrific early decades of the plague all carry a bit of PTSD with us and a bit of survivor’s guilt: why did I survive? What was so special about me?

And you just have to accept that it’s random and doesn’t mean anything more than that. Just like Katrina, just like almost everything bad that has ever happened to me and those around me throughout my life. There’s no rhyme or reason to this world, no matter how much Christians want to whine and harangue the rest of us about “God’s plan.” The probable truth that there is no God, or divine entity, or sense to our lives, is too much for most people to wrap their minds around–just as the question “where did God come from? Who created the Creator?” unsettles many of them.

Heavy sigh.

And I really do need to start doing some promo for these anthologies I have contributed stories to the table of contents…

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, and I may be back later, perhaps; if not, it will be tomorrow morning.

The colossi of Memnon, Egypt