Category: college football

Tell Her No

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, and all is well–at least so far, at any rate. I slept super well last night, and Sparky even let me sleep later, which is not his norm. But when he decided enough was enough, enough was enough. Yesterday turned out to be a very needed day of rest after I finished working; I ran my errands and was drained by the time I got home. I did some chores and the laundry, before settling in for some reading as my brain began misfiring again and the tiredness from the week settled in when I walked back into the apartment lugging groceries around four thirty. I settled into my easy chair and read for the rest of the evening, finishing The Demon of Unrest and starting another new non-fiction read (White Too Long: The Legacy of White Supremacy in American Christianity by Robert P. Jones; yes, I am studying the racist history of the country right now), and caught up on Real Housewives (SLC is lit this season, y’all) before going to bed.

Remember a few weeks ago how I finally talked about how sick and tired I was of every form of homophobia, and especially the passive-aggressive bullshit from so-called “friends” and “allies”? Yeah, got one of those comments on here. Fortunately, I have to approve comments (because I do get the occasional homophobic diatribe; I learned the lesson to approve comments with Livejournal over a decade ago), so you’ll never have to see it, but it’s always a jolt. My favorites are always the ones like this morning–couched in language that appeared friendly, but was actually insulting, demeaning, and invalidating me as a human being with lived (and learned) experience. I love when people think their own lived experience as a straight white man is more valid than my own–and their knowledge of my community and its history is vastly superior to mine, despite their never needing to know anything about it and I’ve studied it extensively over the last three decades, but then again–I’m just a faggot in need of a straight person to get my shit together.

It’s always lovely having that kind of shit drop into your inbox first thing in the morning, before you’ve finished your first cup of coffee. This is why I finally had enough a few weeks ago. I’m not putting up with this shit anymore. Sixty-three years of being excluded, made to feel less than, and putting up with all bullshit that comes with being a gay American man born in the second half of the twentieth century. It certainly got my blood pumping this morning, and made me wake up faster than my morning coffee. It’s almost as funny as the lead singer of the Village People claiming that “YMCA” isn’t a gay anthem. Oh, honey, all your songs are gay anthems, and no one needs your permission to say it. The gays made you, the gays made your songs, and the gays kept your songs alive long after their shelf-life had passed, but go ahead and kiss some mango ass, bitch. Don’t let me stop you, by any means.

And if “YMCA” isn’t a gay anthem, it’s only because the community ditched it after it started being played and danced to (by the way, the song is from 1979…) by mediocre, rhythm-less straight white people at sporting events and political rallies. It always amuses me to see your homophobic asses dancing (badly) to a song about cruising other men at the Y. Butt-fucking and blow-jobs, that’s what the song is about. Remember that the next time you decide to stand up and dance at your next sporting event, straight people. At least the MAGA dance to it works, since it looks like the dancer is giving out handjobs with both hands.

And yay, we get to experience another four years of this kind of shit. At least. I don’t know why my sex life–which is no one’s business but my own–bothers so many people; I certainly don’t hold other people’s sex lives against them. It’s also election day here in Louisiana–this is when we have the elections when someone or something didn’t pass outright in the general. I think it’s just amendments to the state constitution, which I am going to have to look up before I walk over and vote. I also suppose I should be grateful that I don’t get more homophobic abuse on here and on-line; which is one of the reasons I never check DM’s on social media and usually will just clear them out in one swoop without looking at them (words of advice: for this reason, direct messaging is literally the worst way to reach me, especially if you need an answer from me right away), but…as I said a few weeks ago, I am not taking it anymore.

This is why I am no longer attending conferences and conventions–this sort of thing, never knowing who you’re going to meet who is a homophobic piece of shit (and there are quite a few of them, spread out over all sub-genres–you know who you are). Until such time (ha ha ha ha) that these events stop allowing and condoning this kind of shit–or not caring that it happens–why would I support them with my money and my paid vacation time? I know, I know, visibility and all that–but I’ve been doing all that for almost fifteen years, and I am tired.

After all, I’ve not been back to Left Coast since that horrible woman was racist and homophobic to me.1

Heavy sigh. I think I am going to get another cup of coffee and will read for a bit. I do have to run errands today–wash the car, pick up the mail, a little bit of groceries–before coming home and getting back to work. I don’t really care about any of the football games today, so I may turn on the SEC title game, or I may not. I don’t really have an interest in who wins it, so why not read, clean, and work during the day rather than watching games? I’m going to barbecue a pork tenderloin later for dinner, which will be nice. It’s sunny outside, but it’s only 48 degrees outside, and the high for the day is fifty-nine. I’m also going to do a German lesson this morning, and try to get a grip on my inbox, and I am also going to try to finish a substack entry this weekend; I have sixteen started (seriously) and they aren’t going to write themselves. I need to get this editing job finished, and I need to get back to work on my Scotty book. I also had breakthroughs on several other books ideas, so I’d like to get some work done so as to lesson the Sisyphean tasks I always have before me.

  1. I can honestly say I never expected to hear the slur terms for biracial in casual conversation, let alone directed at me. Live and learn. And for the record, this is why racism is so insidious; no one is actually safe from it. That experience also made me wonder if sometimes when I am treated badly by service staff, it has to do with racism? Because they think I’m biracial? And for the record, my brain never jumps to bad treatment = homophobia; I just think the person is a dick. But now I have something else to wonder about. ↩︎

Once You’ve Had the Best

Thursday morning and my last day in the office for the week, which is kind of nice. I get to leave work early today, too. Usually I work too many hours on my clinic days, so I generally shave some time off my work-at-home day and my admin-in-the-office this week. Unfortunately, last Friday was a holiday where I can’t shave hours off, and I had to be in clinic on Monday so I had to stay all day. As I was doing my time sheet for the week, I realized I was going to have to leave early both yesterday and today.

There are worse problems to have, really.

I am more tired this morning than I have been all week, which is about par for the course, really. Because of the above, i get to leave early again today, and tomorrow I get to work at home. I think we have a department meeting in the morning. I’m not sure if I want to drive over to the office for it, or if I should join via the Internet. (My guess right now is I’ll join the meeting on-line so I don’t have to get up earlier; but we’ll see. It seems kind of silly to me to drive all the way down there a half-hour meeting…but I’ve done sillier things before.) I was very tired when I got home from work yesterday, despite leaving early, and I ran an errand on my way home. I did get some work done last night, and hope to get even more done tonight, so I can finish that project no later than Saturday. We also watched Somebody Somewhere, which is a very nice little show, and I am sorry this is its last season, to be honest. It’s very sweet and intimate and small, which is part of its charm, I think. I also spent some time reading The Demon of Unrest, which I hope to finish this weekend as well. It’s very strange, you know; Paul and I were talking last night about how horrible everything is going to be, and I basically said, “My plan is to enjoy myself as much as possible before the inauguration”, which we both agreed was the best plan. The weird thing about The Demon of Unrest is it is all set in the period between the 1860 election, through the transition, and then of course the attack on the fort. The entire country, it seemed, was holding its breath waiting to see what happened when Lincoln was sworn in (there was even concern about certifying the Electoral College vote1). South Carolina and the other deep Southern states (Mississippi, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, and Louisiana) have already seceded from the union–which of course made Fort Sumter a pressure point for both sides; in a way, Sumter was like Guantanamo Bay–federal American property in another country. I’m sure Guantanamo galls Cubans as much as Sumter galled South Carolinians after secession–and the big US flag flying over the fort, to them, was just another Yankee insult to them. So, I am reading a book where the entire country was holding its breath between an election and an inauguration, kind of like we’re experiencing right now. How bad will it be? Will it be a repeat of the last time, only stupider and crueler? Will MAGA prove just as unable (or worse) to govern as they did the last time?

I’m so glad the so-called “patriots” are so delighted to have our government and system undermined and/or destroyed; certainly damaged and broken more than they already are. I’m really looking forward to my first tank of $1.25 gas and 25 cent cartons of eggs. (Sarcasm, obviously we are all going to be looking back to the “horribly high” prices of this past year with a tragic yearning.)

With no football games to care about this weekend, I hope to get back to working on my own book as well as getting some reading done. It’s nice that the flood gates have opened and I am finding the joy in reading again, which is quite marvelous. It also gives me hope that the writing, once the dam breaks there, will be much the same. I started making a to-do list yesterday, which was an amazing step in the right direction. I am hesitant to say that I am going back to my pre-whatever self–old selves are sadly gone–but I’m hoping I’ll be able to get back on the writing horse in a new way. Maybe the days of three thousand words per day are gone, and I have to come up with a new system rather than the old tried and true one. Cha-cha-changes! I’m already noticing that I need to find a new editorial system to replace the old one, which I am finding to be a lot more problematic than it used to be, so I can’t go as quickly as I used to–which I need to remember when telling someone a timeline for when I can get something done by.

I kind of am feeling a bit on the lower energy side–it is Thursday, after all–but I get to go home early today, so I think I’ll be able to get the work stuff done that I want to–I can sit in my easy chair and edit with my lap desk–so I’m not worried about that aspect of today’s lethargy, and usually once I get started I get going with a very real determination to see the day’s workload through. All in all, after a very long break and a very short work-week last week, this return to a normal length work week hasn’t gone terribly, overall.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Thursday be as lovely as you, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

  1. It has all happened before, as always. ↩︎

Midnight, Me and the Blues

Wednesday, and it’s Pay-the-Bills Day. Yay.

Heavy sigh.

I faced up to some hard truths about myself yesterday. I knew I’d kind of coasting along and letting things slide and not really giving things my full attention, and that’s kind of been where my mindset has been for–well, for longer than it should have. Snap out of it, Gregalicious. But at least I was cognizant of that yesterday, which is a step in the right direction. I did get some progress made on work I have to get done soon, but I was very tired when I got off work yesterday and flagging by the time I got home from the office. (My day job is pretty routine for the most part every day. Some days are harder, though, and take a toll on me. Yesterday was one of those days; clients with needs beyond the usual normal work day, and those can be difficult to navigate. I felt great most of the day but by the end of my shift I was very drained and tired. The sometime emotional labor that is necessary to do my job wears me out, which is another reason why I’m not giving my emotional labor away anymore. My two jobs require a lot of emotional labor, and I just don’t have enough reserve in the tank anymore to waste, and so, have to guard it jealously.)

Yesterday I realized I’d been in a weird headspace since my trip up north and the election, which means there was some subliminal depression buried in my head showing itself in a weird kind of paralysis where I couldn’t really motivate myself to do much of anything. Generalized anxiety disorder is very sneaky. I think what happens is that when the depressive side of my brain starts firing off synapses up there, it’s like the anxiety takes hold of the depression and deepens it, all the while never being in the forefront of my mind so I can be aware that is going on–and because I don’t actually feel depressed, well, that doesn’t mean that I am not in a depressive state. It’s always kind of worked this way, now that I am thinking about it with a much more clear head this week (Monday was the last day of the lethargic malaise this time around). I also don’t want to have to add another medication to the chemicals I am already putting into my body more than once a day. I appreciate better living through chemistry as much as anyone, but at the same time…I don’t want to be taking more things if I don’t necessarily need them, if that makes sense? These malaises–I’ve had them before, of course, and usually they show up in the wake of finishing a major project, and I just assume it’s the letdown from no longer needing to use my creativity in a focused manner and it needs to recharge. I guess the malaise is kind of an emotional lull? Being in Kentucky and being in Mom’s house is always challenging; I just keep expecting to see her in the kitchen in the morning when I go for my first cup of coffee and it’s a jolt to remember oh yeah, she’s not with us anymore and I also give a lot of emotional energy to my father while I am there. That, the election, and the drive home–yeah, it’s not really surprising that I went into a malaise. But yesterday? Yesterday I did kick myself back into gear and dove into a project that needs doing, like last week, but I am making good progress and should be finished a week late this weekend. I was very tired when I got off work, but I am feeling like I am back in the saddle again, and there was no way I was going to get anything done last night anyway while I waited for Paul to come through the front door.

I’m taking that as a win, thank you very much.

Paul got home right around nine last night, which was delightful. His travels–usually a problem–all went smoothly (thank you, Secretary Pete) and he was in a pretty good mood. Sparky and I were both very happy to get back into our lives again, and Sparky was so glad Paul was home that he slept in the bed with both of us. There’s something about the regular breathing and heartbeat of a sleeping pet pressed up against you that is so incredibly soothing, isn’t there? I know Sparky sleeping in my lap while I recline in my easy chair always has a calming, settling effect on me as well.

I spent some time with The Demon of Unrest last night while Sparky slept in my lap (and didn’t like that I was reading at first, gnawing on a corner of the book and trying to get in between me and the book before circling a few times and laying down). It’s really quite good–I need to read more of Larson, clearly–and is the kind of history written the way I would have liked to have written about it, you know? It’s actually grabbed my attention away from my fiction read, which is saying something; I’ve always felt that History that is written in a more reader-friendly way, like The Demon of Unrest, should be more of a thing. Barbara Tuchman was really good at this, too; which is why I enjoy reading her so much (A Distant Mirror remains my favorite non-fiction history read of all time). And since I don’t have football games to watch this weekend, I’ll have time to get things done on Saturday–cleaning up around the house, reading, writing, editing–and as I said the other day, I don’t really care that much about the play-offs this year. I might get sucked into it yet, of course, but right now I am kind of relieved the season is over so the easy distraction is gone. It was a very weird season, too, which should get a recap at some point (maybe after LSU’s bowl game) because it’s so weird.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely mid-week day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later, though I doubt it. I have errands to run tonight after work (yay), and I imagine after I am done working tonight, Paul and I will start catching up on our shows again.

I just adore Cooper Koch, and am glad he, too, is having a moment as an exceptional young and out gay actor. He was exceptional in Monsters.

Dance with Me (One Last Time)

Paul will be home tonight, hopefully before I go to bed, and it’s about time. Much as I love Sparky and have appreciated the attention, I’d prefer having Paul at home. I just realized last night that this weekend is Championship Saturday for college football and I. Don’t. Care. This play-off thing is definitely odd; when it was limited to four teams and everyone else went to bowls, the bowls absolutely lost something. I didn’t find myself watching as many as I used to, and sometimes didn’t even watch the four team play-off. I’d usually watch the title game, but if LSU wasn’t in it I ‘d usually go to bed before it was over and not know who won until the following morning; that year Georgia finally pulled off the come-from behind to beat Alabama in the title game was one of those years where I thought, damn should have watched that to the end but…watching highlights was also fine. If LSU goes to a bowl, I’ll watch that for sure, but anything else? Kind of doubtful. Too many games and too much to keep track of, thank you very much. Maybe it’ll be exciting and I’ll get caught up in it.

Or maybe not. We’ll see.

I slept well again last night, but was a bit on the tired side when I got home. I worked for a little while before my brain started going a bit on the haywire side, so I called it an evening and repaired to my chair with Sparky and The Demon of Unrest. It’s so weird; it’s like my brain can only handle one creative task at a time. Now it’s in reading mode, so it seems like all it can really do is handle that, rather than editing or writing. It’s interesting to read about a time in our collective history where everything hung in the balance and no one knew what was going to happen next, or what the next day would bring as the tensions over Fort Sumter began rising. That’s the thing about history. I have a basic overview of a lot of history, particularly US or European, but there’s still a lot of things I don’t know the entire story of, like Fort Sumter. I knew the shelling of Fort Sumter was the start of the Civil War, but the histories I’ve usually read simply used that as the starting point of the war: Lincoln was elected, the slave states had a problem with that, and the secession crisis began1. It’s also wild to imagine that so much time passed between the election, the certification of the Electoral College vote, and the inauguration. It is so eerily reminiscent of the 2020 election insanity, and oh-so-much stupidity I’ve seen in this country for I don’t know how fucking long, so I’ll just say “since Fox News became the press agency for the far-right.” I think that, plus how good of a writer Erik Larson is, makes this book kind of unputdownable for me.

But Paul will be home tonight and all will be right in (my) world again. This apartment, which always seems so small to me most of the time, always seems so enormous and empty while he’s gone. Sigh. I think I’ll order a pizza for us tonight for dinner. He won’t get home until later in the evening, but if he’s hungry it’ll be there for him and if he’s not, well, there’s tomorrow’s lunch. It just makes the most sense to me. My weight has also seemed to stabilize at the usual 203 (I dropped down to 197 while in Kentucky but it’s gone back to the usual since then), which is fine. If I ever start making it back to the gym, then I’ll be checking my weight more often. I was going to start back up while Paul was gone, but I just kind of slid into that lethargic lonely state that kind of just took over last week. My creativity has seemed to find an outlet in writing those essays for ye olde Substack lately, which I’ve kind of run with, but I need to take control of my creativity again and harness it, whip it into working shape, and shift into a higher gear. (How many metaphors did I mix in that last sentence?) I’m also thinking that it’s probably not a bad idea to move all the drafts for longer entries here over there, since that’s where they’ll wind up if I ever finish writing them. That will also helped that nagging annoyance about all the unfinished drafts I have in my folder here. I mean, I still haven’t written about Agatha All Along, which I absolutely loved. I also want to write about Joe Locke, whose success I am enjoying, and adorable Jonathan Bailey, who is everywhere right now because of Wicked. It’s so nice seeing how many working, openly queer actors there are in show business right now. This is a really good thing; and progress I hope we can maintain in the face of this most recent, horrible election. (But at least the popular vote margin keeps narrowing–not that it will matter to any Republican. They are claiming a sweeping mandate, which they also did in 2004, and look how that turned out–so badly the country elected a biracial man to two consecutive terms.)

And no, I am saving my sympathies for the people who didn’t vote for this upcoming administration. You voted for him, shut the fuck up and deal with the consequences, I don’t want to hear a fucking word from you ever again. I know no one likes to remember any further back than last week, but the first term of the felon was such an enormous success…(sarcasm) I can see why he was reelected–to the everlasting disgrace of this country.

And yes, I will continue to maintain that straight white people are the worst thing that ever happened to this continent–and they keep doubling down on their sheer awfulness.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again either tomorrow or later today; one can never be too sure about anything, can they?

  1. One of my favorite things since 2016 is seeing people making the ahistorical claim that “the country has never been divided like it is now,” to which I always reply, “several hundred thousand American dead in the Civil War would like a word.” ↩︎

Hang in There, Girl

Sunday morning and the last day of my little staycation. It began with stomach distress, and is ending on a morning where I feel pretty good and rested. I didn’t do much of anything this entire time, other than chores and some cleaning and filing and organizing, but while not pushing myself to an insane level, I hope to get some things done today. I am punishing myself by not allowing myself to watch today’s Saints game; I am also going to try not to turn on the television itself until after five sometime this evening. Yesterday I ran my errands in the morning and did some more cleaning around the house while listening to music, and then turned on the television for football games. I watched some of Tennessee-Vanderbilt (was really pulling for Vanderbilt), some of the Iron Bowl and some of Arkansas-Missouri, and then watched LSU-Oklahoma for the grand finale of the day. The Tigers won (yay!) 37-17, and there were some upsets–Ohio State lost to Michigan again; Syracuse upset Miami; South Carolina surprised Clemson–so it has, indeed, been a wacky season. I also finished reading The Rival Queens, which was a lot of fun, and started reading my new fiction read (Winter Counts by David Heska Wanbli Weiden, which I’ve been wanting to read for several years now; lovely man, too) and my new non-fiction read, Erik Larson’s The Demon of Unrest, about the lead up to the fall of Fort Sumter after Lincoln was elected president. It’s very good–I love Larson’s work–and it’s kind of timely, particularly in reference to the division in today’s country, and it’s been a while since I’ve read a Civil War narrative (the last was Gore Vidal’s Lincoln), so it’s kind of interesting to dive into it.

I am going to try to do some writing today. I want to reread Hurricane Season Hustle again, and pull everything together on it, as well as to start perhaps revising some of my short stories and to finish an essay for the substack; I have several percolating, but the one I am leaning towards working on is “Recovering Christian,” which is about my relationship to religion and to God, really, and how being groomed to be religious as a child can be very detrimental to that child’s well-being. Ooooh, look at me taking on organized Christianity. ’bout time, as some would say. I remember when, growing up, the rules for polite society and conversation were that you never talked about money, religion, or politics. It certainly hasn’t helped anything that these things have all so much in the zeitgeist, ever since the unholy marriage of evangelical Christianity and the Reagan Republicans. I always took freedom of religion and the separation of church and state very seriously; reading so much History, particularly of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when the soil of Europe was soaked with blood over faith (The Rival Queens details that struggle in France after 1559) had a lot to do with it, just as that recent history drove the founders to put up explicit blocks to keep government and religion from being poisoned by each other–which is where we are now. Modern day Christians are driving believers away even as they grasp for more power.

I also figured out yesterday that the reason I was so lethargic on Friday was because it was too cold in the apartment. I was shivering yesterday morning–it was colder yesterday morning than it was Friday–when I remember, d’oh, the heat works properly now so I switched the upstairs and downstair thermostats to heat and within an hour, the apartment was toasty and warm and bearable. It is lovely again this morning (thank you, heater!), but I can also tell it’s cold again this morning–the windows around my desk always let me know how cold it is outside! (When I think about how much we used to freeze around here until the old system died…) In fact, Sparky is a kitty puddle in my easy chair right now, curled up inside the folds of the blanket resting in the chair–he’s always needier and cuddlier when it’s cold. He wouldn’t leave my chair yesterday, even when I’d get up for something to eat or drink–he stayed inside the blankets and waited for me to come back, which he never does. He usually runs ahead of me into the kitchen every time I get up to beg for food or treats or both. He also started trying to get me up around five this morning.

I am not berating myself for using this time off to rest and recalibrate and to get ready to sprint to the end of the year. I’ve got some chores to do this morning, but I am going to read for a bit with my morning coffee first, get cleaned up, and then try to seriously tackle this downstairs, which has been out of control due to my own laziness for quite some time. I need to take these rugs out and shake them, then replaced and vacuumed to within an inch of their life, and I also should do the stairs. Paul will be home Tuesday night (thank God), and then we have a few weeks before the disruptions of Christmas and New Year’s. A new year of horrors is coming; hard to get excited about that, you know? But my role in the resistance this time is to call out bullshit and lies and bigotry whenever I see it or experience it. If it makes me a target, it makes me a target; as a gay author, I am already on a list somewhere, you can be sure of that–my money’s on the Family Research Council, anything that has to do with that fetid Dobson family, and Tony Perkins. So, if they are going to come for me anyway, may as well go down swinging.

And on that rather somber note, I am heading into the spice mines for the rest of the day. I may be back later–I’m debating doing a post on The Rival Queens–but will most definitely be back tomorrow morning before I start my new work week. Have a lovely Sunday, and I’ll talk to you later, Constant Reader.

Love Potion Number Nine

Saturday and it’s cold in New Orleans. We were supposed to have a cold spell on Thanksgiving, which didn’t happen, but the mercury dropped suddenly overnight Thursday and it was very cold here yesterday–and even colder this morning. I didn’t get much done yesterday, other than the bed linens and my review of Lavender House, which I did finish reading yesterday morning (it is superb; I cannot encourage you enough to read it if you haven’t already) and then spend some time trying to decide what to read next. I picked out some books that look like fun reads–there’s one in particular I am leaning towards–and then spent the evening reading The Rival Queens, which I finally fished out from between the washer and the dryer; there’s slightly less than an inch between the two machines, and Sparky1 loves nothing more than knocking stuff from on top of the dryer down into that crevasse. The Rival Queens has been down there for a few months, and yes, it took me that long to fish it–and the other things–out of there. (My nasal spray for allergies/sinus issues–something new–was also down there, hence the need for me to spend more than a few moments trying before giving up in frustration.)

I’d also forgotten that there are big games this weekend; today is Ohio State-Michigan (won’t watch), and the Iron Bowl are on today before the LSU game tonight against Oklahoma in Baton Rouge (first regular season meeting between the two; the last time they played was that insane 63-28 win over them in the play-offs for 2019 where the score was 49-14 at half-time), so I probably am not going to get a lot done today other than some reading and some errands and some cleaning. I do need to make groceries today, and pick up the mail. I was thinking about trying to drop off books to the library sale, but they may not be open–which isn’t a big deal; I can either leave the box in the car for a week or bring it back inside (not likely). The refrigerator and all these cabinets/drawers in the kitchen all need work, too. There are also any number of chores that still need to be done around here. I did spend some time making notes on short stories yesterday, and so I’m hoping to get some writing done today and tomorrow. We shall see, shall we not?

I just can’t get angry at myself for using this long weekend to rest and relax and recharge, you know? And it is very cold in here this morning. It’s going to be mostly in the sixties during the day and forties at night until they average between high sixties during the day and low sixties after dark later next week–normal for this time of year down here. I’ll probably do some more business stuff this morning that I need to take care of–paying the bills and making a grocery list–and then I’ll probably go to my chair with my new book and get under the blankets for the day once I get home from doing all of that. I am going to try to write in my chair with the laptop–if I could just normalize using it while I am in my chair instead of the iPad, which is really getting very slow and probably needs to be replaced, which isn’t going to happen. A new iPad is not in the cards for me for a very long time, thank you very much. Since Apple products are made in China…imagine how much more they are going to cost with a tariff! Especially since Apple will take advantage of said price increases to up the price even more, as all corporations do, as we learned during the “supply chain issues” from the pandemic. Price gouging is a disgusting thing, but it’s something we all have to get used to once again.

I was better off in 2024 than I was in 2020, but hey–why not vote for racist sexist homophobic authoritarianism when you can blame it on the price of eggs and pull the old “it’s the economy” fake out when it’s really the racism and sexism and homophobia you’re really embracing. Maybe a significant portion of the population honestly believes that somehow things are better under Republican governance; all I know is they are incredibly bad at it, have proven this time and again (Reagan, both Bushes, the Tea Party, MAGA) by tanking the economy repeatedly–but all those bigotries are really more important than anything else to almost fifty percent of American voters, which means that once again the bad Americans are slightly outnumbering the decent ones2. Pundits are now apparently bending the knee, and MSNBC is desperately trying to center itself as the resistance for ratings again–which is exactly what they were hoping for this past summer as they repeatedly shivved Biden and Harris and threw yet another election to MAGA. #FAFO, MSNBC and CNN. Your audience let you pull this bait-and-switch in 2016 and fell for your manipulation, which failed in 2020 and you went all-in on again on the same bait-and-switch on your audience. Sorry not sorry, progressives eventually learn. The legacy media overplayed its hand by putting its thumb on the scale for money and power–and are finding themselves abandoned, high and dry, as they should; they have betrayed their mission of journalism and so betrayed the country. They are soulless corporations, and let’s face it–any pretense at populism led by a corporation is corrupted by the corporation from the start.

Sigh.

If only we could learn to live up to and respect, rather than paying lip-service, to the ideals this country was founded upon.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and who knows? I may be back later. Stranger things have happened before.

  1. Unlike Scooter, Sparky is like Skittle when it comes to knocking things off counter tops or any flat surface. Scooter wasn’t a normal cat, he was just a big lump of orange lap cat. ↩︎
  2. Just like before the Civil War! No one really cared about slavery in the north until the South fired on the flag, period–if anything, emancipation was more of a religious movement, about morality–and once they were free, everyone abandoned them to the mercies of the former enslaving aristocracies and the resultant monstrosities of Jim Crow. SO, how much did Northern whites care about Blacks? Not very much, and probably far less than they do today, which isn’t much, either. ↩︎

Nowhere to Run

Friday morning after the holiday, and were you able to get through it safely without killing a MAGA relative, Constant Reader? I have to admit it was kind of nice spending the day by myself. Sparky and I had a very nice time hanging out, and he spent a lot of time in a kitty puddle in my lap, with only the occasional change into Apex Predator Pounce and Attack mode. I wound up watching some research videos on Youtube, going down wormholes and putting me in mind of yet another project in the files, heaving heaving sigh. I also spent more time with Lavender House, which continues to be marvelous–another one I am reading so I can savor everything about it. It was actually kind of lovely, to tell you the truth; Sparky certainly was enjoying himself. The cold spell we were warned about for Thanksgiving arrived over night, actually; it’s only 49 degrees outside right now and I could tell when I get downstairs this morning. Brrr. It also explains how well I slept last night, and why I am up so early this morning, too. Not even seven, and I am already here slurping coffee and typing away. I feel very rested, too, and good, even. I want to get things done today, and I am going to make A List. I am going to spend some time this morning reading more of the book, and I have some other reading/editing to do, and maybe, if I am lucky I can even get some writing done, too. There’s some more cleaning that needs to be done, and the bed linens need to be laundered as it is Friday. I survived the holiday alone, and it was actually kind of nice. It was always Mom’s holiday, the one I would usually go to Kentucky for, and that’s part of the reason last year I had my surgery two days before the holiday–I figured being drugged up and recovering from a major surgery was the best way to get through missing her last year, and this year, I did get sad a couple of times but overall, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

I think I managed to cope with Thanksgiving very well these last two years.

There are some football games on today, but no one I really care too much about. I may put on the Egg Bowl this afternoon (Mississippi-Mississippi State) because it’s usually a wild game, but who knows? It depends on where I am at with everything I want to do today. I’ll probably not get everything done that I want to get done–that is the Way–but at least I get to be at home on this cold November morning. In fact, curling up with my book and my blanket in my easy chair sounds 100% like the best option for this morning.

I did manage to think through the revisions of another couple of stories last night, which was rather cool. My productive mind is still working, I am just not turning that work into actual writing production, which has always been an issue (I’ve never been able to keep up with my mental creativity) for me, but I am enjoying writing in my journal and thinking about my writing. I do love writing, and I hope I’ll be able to get back on the horse completely. I can’t remember the last time I did three thousand words in a day–but then I barely remember yesterday, so it could be as recent as a few weeks ago. I’ve also been avoiding the news a lot these last couple of days, which has also been lovely. I have become very cynical and jaded about a lot of things since the election, to be honest. I’m still a bit concerned about what exactly is going to happen now that Incompetent Evil has taken over the country, and what that means for my future–but I only have space to worry about mine and Paul’s. The rest of my life means my emotional work will focus entirely on Paul and I; and my writing is about to become a lot more important and get a lot more of my focus and energy going forward. It’s astonishing to me that I always let other people put their needs and wants and desires ahead of my own career. How stupid was that? I always say I don’t want to have regrets, but I do resent and regret that.

I did manage to get caught up on my two Housewives shows–Beverly Hills and Salt Lake City–which was incredibly fun. I try to figure out the appeal of these shows, and why I find them so compelling, almost constantly. I don’t consider them guilty pleasures–as my friend Laura says, “you shouldn’t feel guilty about anything that gives you pleasure”, which is pretty fucking true–so much as I wonder why I get so addicted to them, in much the same way as I would get addicted to daytime and prime time soaps when I was younger. There’s a parallel there somewhere, but I just haven’t managed to get my brain to figure that out so I can write about it. I might watch something tonight–movie or television series–but haven’t really decided yet.

And on that note, I am going to my chair with my book to get under a blanket and read for a while. Have a lovely Black Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later. No one is ever really for sure about anything, are they?

Thanksgiving Prayer

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Or, if you prefer (I do), Happy Native Genocide Eve!

I am spending this one alone, here in the Lost Apartment by myself, and that’s fine. Yesterday was nice. I didn’t feel as bad when I woke, after a good night’s sleep, and by early afternoon my stomach stopped aching even a little bit. It embarrasses me to admit this, but I think I was actually malnourished! I’ve not eaten dinner once this week, and I didn’t really eat much on Sunday, either–so I went into calorie deficit, and whatever I ate wasn’t enough calories to keep my body functioning properly.1My blood sugar drops, I get all post-nasal drippy, the drip makes me feverish and cough, and I feel, overall, like crap. I caught up on my eating yesterday morning and lunch finally made the ache go away. Seriously, not very smart. But it’s fine this morning and I feel like myself again, thank the Lord. So, with my unexpected extra day off, I wound up having a very nice and relaxing day around the house by myself. I’m rarely ever home alone for an entire day, let alone a week, so the novelty is still kind of nice and fun and oh, yes, I can do whatever I want whenever I want, can’t I? I did listen to Orville Peck yesterday while I did some cleaning. The downstairs is pretty much done; I just need to do the floors and move some furniture. I also worked on an essay2 and did some reading yesterday, which was nice. I am taking today off from anything and everything–it is a holiday, after all–and the days when I used to feel guilty for doing nothing all day are in the past. I’d also completely forgotten it was Rivalry Weekend in college football, when anything can happen in a football season that has already been wild and wacky and full of crazy upsets. LSU plays Oklahoma for the first time in the regular season this Saturday night in Baton Rouge, so that should be interesting; Oklahoma just trounced Alabama, who trounced LSU a few weeks ago. Obviously, you can’t tell anything by common opponents (LSU beat Vanderbilt, who beat Alabama. Go figure).

So, Thanksgiving. I’ll have a fancy turkey sandwich later–probably open-faced, with turkey gravy poured over it–and when I finish this, I’ll probably go read some more of Lavender House, which is phenomenal and I am loving. I’m seeing the influence of the masters–Chandler and Hammett–in this, and it is absolutely amazing. I am not going to pressure myself to do anything today or feel guilty about not doing things. Besides, I am not capable of doing nothing all day–I’ll do something, at any rate; whether it’s cleaning or pruning the books or organizing a cabinet; I’m like Mom that way. I still have to edit a manuscript this weekend, and I’d also like to reread what I have done on Scotty, maybe even get back into writing that manuscript. I puzzled out how to finish and revise a novella and another one of my short stories–both need to be harder, colder, more hard-boiled and sly and mean-spirited, frankly. I’ve enjoyed this novella because it’s about a dysfunctional relationship that has a truly sad ending. The problem with both, I realized, is that they are from the point of view of someone who ends up committing a crime, and it’s really about how everything leads up to that moment, so I had the voice completely wrong in both, which is the missing piece I’ve been looking for now for quite some time. So, while I am not actually writing anything fictional at the moment, I am doing some brain work on my fiction, and sorry not sorry, THAT COUNTS.

But the whole point of this day–the “wholesome” America rah-rah-rah version, at any rate–is to remember and be thankful for your blessings in this life, and not focus on the hardships you’ve faced. There’s definitely a bit of Christianity and white supremacy baked into that particular American mythology, which is why some (me) half-jokingly call it Native Genocide Eve, because it was the last time European colonizers were grateful for indigenous help, and before they started slaughtering them–whether it was through out-and-out gunfire or disease. The truth left out of the US creation myth is that it was all about conquest and colonizing. I don’t think learning about that is nearly as disillusioning as being taught one thing as a child and then learning as you get older that it’s all justification and lies. Europeans had no right to the Americas, and they took the two continents with violence, prejudice, and genocide. The foundation of our country was built upon white Christian supremacy.

Why is that so hard for people to accept or admit? The truth is, we have been dealing with “alternative facts” most of our lives. Talk about miseducation!

But back to my thankfulness. Obviously, first and foremost, is that I am grateful every day for Paul. What a remarkable person he is, and how lucky was I, with all the people in the world, that somehow I wound up finding the perfect person for me, like I’d ordered from a menu? I miss him when he’s not here–I’ve kind of been thinking about Dad, living alone after losing Mom, up there in the house they shared together for the last twenty-five years of their lives together, and can really understand and relate. I usually can handle the first few days whenever he goes on a trip anywhere, luxuriating in the novelty of living alone (which I’ve never done). Usually by the third day alone (technically tomorrow) I start feeling the loneliness and realize ah, this is what it’ll be like if he goes first 3, which is “I can do this when I’ll have to (again, no choice).”

I am very thankful to be living in New Orleans, the only place in this country that has ever felt like home to me. I love this city even when I complain about it. It’s a bit hard to explain, but I think it has something to do with having the same mentality about life and death that I’ve always had: enjoy today because you could be gone tomorrow. One thing that always bugs me on a molecular level is putting off joy till later. Um, there are more than enough things in life to make you forget about joy, so why inflict it upon yourself? Katrina emphasized that even further–you could lose everything you have in a day and have to start completely over. I’ve moved around the country enough, starting over, that having to start over again at my current age isn’t desirable, but I’ve done it enough times over the course of sixty-three years that I know if I have to, I can. I am also very thankful for that hard core of resiliency baked into who I am.

I am very thankful for my writing career. It’s what I always wanted to do, for as long as I can remember, and even when I get frustrated with it, or wish I had done something differently…well, there are any number of people who wish they had my career, and despite the fact that my writing career happened because so many things that needed to happen for it to happen, happened. I think part of the reason I never took my career as seriously as I should have from the very beginning is because luck and good fortune made it happen, which also makes me very aware of how it can happen. But…that doesn’t, and shouldn’t undermine, the story of my career trajectory. I’ve been nominated for awards almost thirty times, and have even won on occasion. Some writers never get nominated for anything. Some writers never progress past the dream stage. I’ve gotten incredible reviews, and I have some absolutely devoted readers that I am thankful for every damned day. I also think part of the depressive state of the last year or so has everything to do with me not writing much during that time–I am always happier when I am writing fiction, no matter how much stress and anxiety is involved with the writing of said fiction. I’ve pretty much been able to write whatever I want to write most of my life, too.

I’ve also been blessed to be able to know some amazing people, and to call them friends. They are an amazing support system, and they believe in me as a person, as a friend, and as a writer. It’s kind of sad that I didn’t learn what it was like to be or have a good friend until I met Paul. I always have this deep down feeling that no one actually does like me–the PTSD of growing up in a very homophobic society–but I am getting so much better about that.

I am thankful that I have the life I never knew I truly wanted, or could have imagined, during the rough times.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your holiday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later, one never can be sure, can one?

One can never go wrong with a shirtless photo of Nyle DeMarco, can one?
  1. Believe it or not, it’s a thing for me; it has a lot to do with fear of gaining weight and the nagging sense that I always need to lose at least ten pounds. I’ll write about that at some point. ↩︎
  2. On the “bury your gays” trope, for the record. ↩︎
  3. Not really the first time; there have been any number of times over our almost thirty years (!!!) together (next summer) where I’ve had to face the possibility of losing him and spending the rest of my life alone (I don’t need a companion, and no one will ever be like Paul to me, just like no one could ever replace Mom for Dad) multiple times already. ↩︎

Shake

Well, yesterday was a good day for one Gregalicious. I didn’t get as much done around the house as I would have preferred, but c’est la vie. I did have football games on all day, mostly as a break from monotonous silence, but I did get to see the Florida upset of Mississippi, and surprisingly enough, LSU beat Vanderbilt last night to stop their three game losing streak…but have to play Oklahoma next, who managed to not only upset Alabama last night but beat them pretty soundly. After the LSU game I caught the end of Auburn-Texas A&M, which Auburn finally won in quadruple overtime. What a crazy year this has been in the SEC, has it not? Now the winner of Texas-Texas A&M will play Georgia for the SEC title. #madness.

But one thing I remembered finally is that I usually read during games I don’t necessarily care about, and so I finished The Reformatory by Tananarive Due at last yesterday, and what a read it was. I’d say it’s one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time, and I read a lot of really good books, so that is really saying something. I’ve added Due to my list of “must-read” writers, and she has a substantial backlist I am looking forward to exploring. It took me a very long time to get through this book, because it was so powerful and the horror in it was so completely real, but more on that later. I am going to go out on a limb and call it a masterpiece for now, and encourage you to read it if you have not. Today I am going to start reading Lavender House by Lev AC Rosen, whom I’ve met and found delightful, and whose career I’ve been following avidly. I’ve yet to read one of his books, but I am very excited to read one of the most acclaimed queer mysteries of the last few years. I’m also kind of thrilled to be reading fiction again. Today I am also going to read a couple of short stories a friend sent me to read, and probably will do some writing, either short story, essay, or the book, today as well. I went to get the mail and made a grocery run yesterday, so I don’t have to do anything errand-like today, but I should probably make it to the gym later this morning. The weather has been wonderful, and one thing I am determined to do this year is drive around the city taking pictures of Christmas decorations. I definitely want to write a nice essay about Christmas this year, and the essay I worked on briefly yesterday, “Recovering Christian,” is one I started working on about twenty years ago. The lovely thing about Substack is I now have a place to post those essays, and share them with the world. I do have to make more of an effort to post content there at least once a week.

I do wonder if all the readers I picked up there during my ranting about homophobia post are expecting that kind of content all the time? I don’t know, but in some ways I am thinking that the Substack (also a place to publish short stories, too, if I so choose) is kind of a good place to write about my life, and explore issues of being a queer American writer, and my thoughts and opinions about systemic bigotry, and all the things I was miseducated about as a child. (American Mythology, hello?) That way it will live up to the name it shares with this blog, “Queer and Loathing in America.” I also want to write essays about my gay life, and the lessons I learned the hard way, as well as writing. I’ve been unpacking my past ever since Mom died–the first time I’ve ever allowed myself to look back–and while I am not sorry I never did this before, I am also learning a lot more about myself and why I do things and why I react the way I do and how much of my life was controlled/driven by anxiety. I was fine at the party the other night, but too many people in spaces still makes me uncomfortable and uneasy, but that’s okay. The claustrophobia might be anxiety related, or it may be entirely it’s own thing, but the primary difference was that there was no adrenaline spike or spiraling. I was able to relax, and kind of enjoy myself more.

And that is what I meant when I said I was pulling back from the crime community and centering myself. I want to focus on myself, on Paul, and our needs and what we need to do and handle and take care of, and I don’t want to do emotional labor for anyone else anymore. I’ve been watching a lot of Youtube and TikTok videos about cutting MAGA voters out of your life, or at the very least setting boundaries, and I saw one that really made a lot of sense to me: we don’t feel safe around them, but we don’t have to cut them out entirely, we just have to stop giving them emotional labor. Go get sympathy from another MAGA voter, since you’re all so empathetic and sympathetic to the concerns, fears and rights of other people. It’s why BlueSky has been flooded by Twitter trolls, now that the genius has killed that platform (but hey, let’s put him in charge of government!). They don’t enjoy talking to each other, so they have to “pwn the libs.” But they just get blocked, so they’re the ones who wind up in a echo chamber. Hell, I block people who annoy me. It’s my space, my experience, and if I don’t want the aggravation of annoying people or giving them time or energy, well…no one can make me engage with people who steal my peace.

I also don’t think people understand how casual homophobia, so easy for straight people to slip into with their excessive privilege, makes us feel when we hear it or hear about it or (in some cases) read about it in screen shots. Not only do we no longer feel safe around you, we can’t count on you to stand up for us when the chips are literally down. There’s been some slightly viral conversation about some Jewish lesbian who voted for Trump and has been cut off from her friends and kicked off a team. “I wouldn’t do this to someone who voted for Harris,” she cries her crocodile tears, as she sits down with right-wing podcasters and plays victim and martyr. She voted for Trump because of pro-Palestine lefties…or so she claims. So she aligned herself with someone who actually had dinner with a Nazi, and has been embraced by American Nazis. Who ally themselves with the Proud Boys and other ant-Semites (who precisely are the voters who chant “Jew will not replace us” again?), and now wants everyone to feel sorry for her and pretends ignorance. Sorry not sorry, bitch–your new buddies and the Karens posting on your instagram talking about how horrible it is that queers actually can see this quisling bitch for who she is? Those bitches will be the first ones to turn you into the SS, moron. It’s especially egregious because my education in feminism and social justice was at the hands of lesbians; I’ve always thought lesbians, of all people, would know better than this bullshit. And this bitch is talking about “how we all need to have these tough conversations”–no, we don’t, honey. The time for tough conversations was before the election, and trust me, there’s not a single tough conversation I could possibly have where I’d be willing to come to an agreement or compromise with people who cheered the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the 80s and 90s. You don’t compromise with the Klan. You don’t compromise with Nazis. You don’t compromise with people who’s starting position is “you don’t deserve any rights, and you really shouldn’t exist.”

Feel free to pound your head into that wall until it’s pulp, Benedictine Arnold. Enjoy the lonely life of celibacy you’ve set up for yourself.

The funniest thing about her is she is a butch lesbian–short hair, masculine clothes, the whole ball of wax–and you know she is going to get challenged going into the ladies’ bathroom or changing room.

Good. Enjoy what you voted for. I have no patience with queer remoras attaching themselves to the sharks circling the rest of us. I certainly have no forgiveness in my heart for the future informers and camp guards. She showed us who she is, and we believe her.

And on that note, I am going to head over to my chair to read for a bit before I get to work around here. I slept really well again last night, and feel pretty good this morning. I also want to work on my review of The Reformatory, and get some other things done. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later on.

Heart Full of Soul

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment! We’re having a cold spell here in New Orleans (yes, I know a high of sixty and a low of fifty-one is spring from most of you that live north of I-10, and you break out the tanks and shorts and sunscreen, but this is the time of year down here where you don’t feel like the climate is actively trying to kill you when you go outside, and it’s lovely), which is wonderful; I woke up feeling very well rested yesterday and had a very productive day. I wasn’t tired the way I usually am on Fridays, and managed to get all my work-at-home duties done, my blood work taken care of, picked up the mail, and made groceries. I’ll have to run out to the store again tomorrow to pick up a few things, but I don’t mind. My new watch came in the mail–I lost the Fitbit charger, and realized hey I don’t need to have one anymore since our insurance changed–so I ordered a cheap Timex on-line. I spent some more time with The Reformatory (it’s so good, so compelling and so horrifying at the same time; societal horror on top of supernatural and just breathtakingly brilliantly done), and worked on my chores whenever I needed a break from my computer duties. I also think the weather change has something to do with my energy picking up again; it might be finally healing from all the medical shit I had done last year (coming up on the one-year anniversary of my first-ever major surgery), and I always sleep better when it’s cold…although that does make it harder to get up in the mornings. I mean, I never want to get out of a comfortable bed as it is, let alone a warm comfortable bed on a chilly morning!

I got all the dishes done and did the bed linens; I also started picking up around here a bit more. I’ve really let the house slide badly since the surgery; it’s more than a little horrifying to think I’ve let it all slide for this long. I am really going to utilize the time Paul’s gone to do a real nice deep clean on the apartment. It’s long overdue. I also am trying to decide what TV show to binge while he’s gone; I’ve never watched Sex and the City (I’ve seen one episode) and I stopped watching Desperate Housewives midway through the first season when I missed one and didn’t know how to get caught up on it. (Both of these came to mind from watching a Youtube video while I was doing some quality assurance on paperwork, whose theme was “When Your Main Character Becomes The Villain,” which focused on Teri Hatcher’s character Susan (I remember getting really annoyed with her that first season), and used Sarah Jessica Parker’s Carrie Bradshaw as another. I realized I’d never watched these shows that were hugely popular with other gay men (the show-runners on both were gay men), so it would be interesting to see them now, all these years later, and perhaps even make a project out of it? I’m leaning towards Sex and the City because the episodes are shorter, and I don’t there are as many, which is a terrible reason, isn’t it?

Embrace the dark side, Gregalicious.

I slept well last night. Paul was out at an event, so I was home alone for most of the evening, and went to bed early when I started getting sleepy, around nine. It must be the cold (to us) weather. I do have to run out to get the mail and make some groceries, but for the most part I’ll be lazing around here, picking up and cleaning and moving things to clean behind or beneath them and so on (I am waiting to move the couch until Paul’s not here; there’s no telling what Sparky has under there–although he doesn’t try to squeeze his way underneath there anymore). I did cruise through my streaming services last night to see what is on there that I want to watch (I was also searching for Sex and the City and The Assassination of Gianni Versace, of which I’ve never seen more than the first episode), and I cleaned off and organized my desk–which was really nice to come down to this morning–and it’s nice to have all the dishes and laundry done. I’ll probably do some more cleaning and organizing around the kitchen/laundry room this morning, around reading more of The Reformatory. LSU will probably lose to Vanderbilt tonight, and if they do, I won’t be too mad about it. I’m enjoying Vanderbilt’s improbable season, and I can’t help but pull for them since they are always such an underdog every year. Tulane1 is also doing well again this year, which is fun–New Orleans really gets excited for Tulane when they’re doing great, and it’s fun seeing people heading for the tailgating in their green garb waiting for the streetcar along the neutral ground of St. Charles Avenue when I’m driving home from uptown. I’m working on an essay about religion, hoping to work on finishing a short story or two this weekend, and getting back to work on the book.

I also am thinking about rewatching Saltburn, so I can finish my essay about it. It’s not longer timely, of course, but it’s an interesting movie that I think bears some Gregalicious perspective on it. I still have some Imposter Syndrome (“who cares what I think? I never studied film as art.”) when it comes to expressing my opinions on art outside of my own form (literary arts), but reviews are basically what you liked and didn’t like, and I really enjoyed Saltburn, and want to dig through its multiple layers to get down to the heart of the matter. I think I’m going to read a queer mystery next, probably The Lavender House by Lev Rosen, which I’ve been wanting to dig my teeth into for quite some time. I am feeling so much better these days, and I have to say during this lengthy recovery from a major trauma to my body I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get back to normal, and if that exhaustion I felt almost constantly was something I was just going to have to live with and teach myself some work-arounds2 that I no longer need to do anymore. I don’t need to be constantly efficient when I am doing errands, planning and mapping out the route and order in which I do them to save a few minutes here and there, which is dumb. I also know it’s not going to kill me to leave the house again for something I’ve forgotten as it really isn’t a hassle to do so, or stop on the way home, and so forth. Tomorrow I most likely won’t leave the house at all, other than walking to the gym in the late morning–I need to get back into that routine, since I should be focused on getting into the best shape possible for what is coming3 under this new regime of horrors. My hopes aren’t high…when you have to depend on Republicans to save democracy…I just can’t believe more people didn’t think January 6th was disqualifying.4

So much for the “land of the free.”

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I need to have breakfast and get another cup of coffee prepared before I repair to my easy chair with Tananarive’s amazing book–I really need to exhaust her backlist–and I suppose I’ll have the television on for games today that I won’t pay a lot of attention to for background noise–probably Mississippi-Florida, Kentucky-Texas, and LSU-Vanderbilt tonight. But I hope you do have a marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later.

It’s a mystery!

What are the odds Facebook will want to take this down as a sexual image? After all, everyone knows butts are for sodomy.
  1. It’s also weird for Tulane to be doing better than either LSU or the Saints. ↩︎
  2. Since getting properly diagnosed and medicated for generalized anxiety disorder, I have begun to realize just how many things I do are workarounds to lessen the anxiety–which I am noticing now because the anxiety is (mostly) gone. ↩︎
  3. I’m hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. Project 2025 is coming, thanks again, MAGA trash. ↩︎
  4. Then again, look how long emancipation took here, and how long Jim Crow lasted. The USA has been one long history of atrocity after atrocity, truly something for fragile white cishet people to truly take pride in as their heritage. ↩︎