Category: crime fiction

Most People I Know Think I’m Crazy

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and the sun is shining. It actually looks like a stunningly gorgeous day out there for parades, and of course King Arthur, the last of the day, is one of my favorites (a lot of gays ride in King Arthur). Yesterday was a slow day. I woke up after sleeping for ten hours feeling a little inside out, and the weather wasn’t a help. It rained off and on all day; the parades were all moved up because of the threat of weather (which was accurate; we had a flash flooding thunderstorm later on in the day), and since I was so tired and wrung out, I didn’t feel like attending any of them. I’ll probably go out for King Arthur, maybe for some of the earlier ones, and we’ll see how it goes.

As I said, I was extremely tired all day yesterday and decided to let my body and brain rest for most of it. I did do the dishes and I did get some things done early on, but I soon repaired to my easy chair, where I spent the rest of the afternoon reading–more on that later–but one of the things I wanted to reread was “La Cote Basque” by Truman Capote. I knew it was the story that turned his “swans” against him; I read it many years ago when I went through a Capote phase, when I was able to get past my distaste1 for him personally to start reading his work–which I quickly became a fan of; I love his writing, especially In Cold Blood, and I’ve always preferred the novella Breakfast at Tiffany’s to the film. I always thought he wasted his incredible talents, like so many did, and I am starting to appreciate him more as a person than I ever did before2 and now am curious about reading biographies of him. I never watched any of the films made about him, but now…now I am thinking I should watch them. Capote, Tennessee Williams, and Gore Vidal all knew each other and were contemporaries; openly gay men who didn’t give a fuck about morés and ignored the rule of “don’t ask don’t tell” that pretty much was the only way gay men or other queers could really survive the reality of the deeply homophobic world they existed in. I cannot imagine, but that was also the reality of the world I was also born into, creating internal conflicts that I am still trying to unravel to this day–like why I held Capote in so much distaste, which was really internalized homophobia, which I’ve been confronting since I first watched Capote v. The Swans, and trying to process my way through it.3

Ironically, I wound up rewatching those first two episodes again, because Paul wanted to watch–he also feels the same as me about Capote, which is partly why we never saw any of the earlier films about him–and it’s well done enough for me to easily sit through it again, and it surprised me because I never became bored, even though I’d already seen those episodes. We watched two more episodes of Lupin yesterday, despite my falling asleep during the second, after which we retired to bed.

And here I am this morning, feeling rested and not at all as tired and drug out as I was yesterday, which is a very good thing. I don’t know how much of anything I am going to get done today–I do know I want to spend some time reading and editing, if not writing–and of course there’s always picking up to do around here, and maybe I could vacuum.

I also spent some time yesterday finishing reading the novelization of one of my favorite movies of all time, The Last of Sheila, which I really enjoyed almost as much as I did the film,4 which will be covered in its own entry. I’ve been entranced by this film since I first saw it as a child one Sunday after church, and it still holds up; I’ve never once rewatched, knowing the surprise ending, and been bored or not entertained. (It’s also weird because there are scenes in Capote v the Swans showing Capote shooting Murder by Death, which was one of my earliest memories of seeing Capote, written by Neil Simon, one of the most popular playwrights of the middle part of the century that no one talks about anymore either but he was everywhere back then; I doubt Murder by Death holds up–and I didn’t really like it that much when I saw it in the theater back then, either.)

I’m also thinking it might be fun to revisit In Cold Blood and some other Capote works while I watch the show. I’ve always liked his short stories and his writing style…

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely King Arthur Sunday, everyone, and I’ll catch you maybe later.

  1. Definitely will be more on this later, probably once I’ve finished watching. Capote v. the Swans. ↩︎
  2. Again, more on this later. ↩︎
  3. Hence the “more on this later” in the earlier footnotes. ↩︎
  4. Again, more on this later. ↩︎

Only the Lonely

Friday morning and a work-at-home day; after I get home from a doctor visit and PT, and a brief grocery run to pick up the things I forgot last night on the way home. I didn’t make a list, of course, so once I got home I remembered the things I forgot to get, and remembered still more this morning, sigh.) Parades actually start tonight, with Druids, Cleopatra, and Alla, I think; I’d have to check to be sure. You’d think after all these years I’d have the parade schedule memorized, but no, I don’t. It’s supposed to rain all weekend and it looks rather gray out there in the morning light, but the sun isn’t all the way up yet either and it might turn out to be one of those gorgeous winter days with blue sky and sunshine and warmth.

I was correct about being tired when I got home from work last night, and so didn’t get a lot done other than hanging out and bonding with Sparky. I watched this week’s Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, which was a nice, no-stupid-arguments episode, and then decided to watch Capote v. the Swans because I was bored, and tired, and wasn’t sure that Paul would want to watch it anyway–and even if he did, he’ll never get home in time to watch much of it before the festivals anyway. I had seen some people hating it, the reviews are mixed, but I actually enjoyed watching. The acting is terrific, and like most Ryan Murphy shows it’s beautifully styled and constructed. The clothes and sets are impeccable. Naomi Watts is amazing, and Tom Hollander is pretty good as Capote. I have some of my own personal issues about Capote I clearly need to work through–it’s a long story and probably should be the center of its own entry, and probably will be once the show finishes its run and I review/blog about it. I had wanted to read more last night, and maybe do some chores, but once I went to the chair that was it for the night. I didn’t think I was that tired, but clearly I was. I even fell asleep in my chair and was snoozing away quite happily when Paul came home and woke me up.

I did sleep really well last night, too.

I’m not sure what this weekend holds for me other than being trapped here in the neighborhood during the parades. I want to get that story finished and I need to get the place straightened up/put back in order, not to mention all the chores I always end up having to do over the course of the weekend. There’s a load of clothes drying right now and I need to empty and reload the dishwasher so it can run while I am out of the house for the morning. I do have work-at-home duties to get done today as well. Tomorrow morning I am not getting up to an alarm–which is always lovely–and hopefully it will be a lovely, relaxing weekend of parades and beads and throws and watching stuff while writing and reading a lot.

I feel pretty good this morning too, which is also kind of nice. I feel rested, and since i am not rushing to get things done before heading into the office I canI’ve dy. PT is probably going to be quite rough, honestly; I’ve advanced more rapidly than anyone expected, so it gets a lot harder every time as the therapist tries to break me, LOL. I also need to make a list of things I need to buy for the house–a rolling cart for office supplies, some air filters for the HVAC system, a taller ladder, and so on–that I always forget about and I really do need to get more focused. None of the stuff can be delivered during the parade season, of course–or the windows for delivery are so narrow they can be easily missed–but the new microwave is delightful, and so are the new knives I bought. (I can’t believe how sharp they are!) There’s definitely something to be said for buying new things to replace old things you’ve had forever. I also want to get blinds for my windows so I don’t have to be blinded and so damned hot all summer in here when I am working, either.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines and get this day rolling. The chores and work won’t do themselves, after all, and I do need to get ready for this morning’s round of appointments and so forth. Have a lovely Friday and I may be back later; if not I’ll report back tomorrow morning after the first night of parades.

Wasted on the Way

Thursday and the last day in the office for the week. I am very tired this morning. I slept well but could easily sleep for another few hours or so (interesting that I went from almost non-stop anxiety about insomnia to anxiety about sleeping too much, isn’t it?), but as I slowly and groggily get going this morning, the coffee is definitely hitting the way it is supposed to. Tomorrow morning I have a doctor’s appointment and PT, as well as whatever errands I can get run before the parades start tomorrow night. Gah. I can’t believe it is already parade season, and I didn’t get nearly as much done as I would have liked in the meantime. I did work some more on the story yesterday night after I got home from work and the errands (I picked up the mail) and settled in for a relaxing evening.

For some reason I watched the season premiere of Vanderpump Rules, which is now picking up with the fallout from last season’s “Scandoval,” and I don’t know about continuing to watch. I had stopped watching the show years ago–years before Stassi and Kristen were fired for being racists, and long before Jax met and married that bizarre woman. I came back briefly for the scandal, and watching the aftermath I am just not feeling it, and probably won’t watch more. I do sometimes question my fandom of these reality shows, which generally feature terrible people being terrible, all for the sake of entertainment. I had never really watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City before–I had intended to, but then Jen Shah was arrested for massive scale fraud and remained on the show, and that was a bit too much for me (likewise, I stopped watching New Jersey when the Giudices went to jail, and I remain conflicted about Beverly Hills with fraud-adjacent Erica Girardi unapologetically remaing as a member of the cast and even getting, apparently, a redemption arc this season; which I vehemently oppose); I did start watching this most recent season at the urging of friends and yes, I was missing reality drama by not watching; I doubt that I will go back and watch the old seasons, which is something I never really do; why go back and watch old drama that doesn’t matter anymore? Reality shows like these are really like the old prime-time soaps; you can start watching at any time and just jump into the show without having to go back and watch the back stories–which you could never do with the daytime soaps but you could with the night-time.

Well, what do you know? I never finished this before leaving the house this morning so I find myself trying to finish this over my lunch break–and even my lunch is later today than usual, so yeah–been a day. But I feel good, tomorrow morning I have appointments and PT and so forth; before coming home to do work-at-home duties for the rest of the day. I’ve also kind of lost the train of thought I was riffing on before leaving the house this morning, and checking out what I’ve already written here didn’t return me to that particular mindset, so who knows where this is going to wind up going? I hope I have the energy after making groceries on the way home from work today to finish working on my story so I don’t have to worry about that over the weekend. I don’t know how my parade attendance will go this weekend; Paul’s got a lot of work to do and going out there by myself–which I can handle, and have done before–just isn’t as much fun as when I am with Paul, even if we barely speak while we’re out there. And I am not sure how much my stamina is going to hold up, either. We shall see, I suppose.

It’s also supposed to rain all day Saturday and Sunday, which will put a damper on the weekend anyway.

I did also watch the season finale of Percy Jackson and the Olympians last night, and I have to say I really do enjoy the series much more than I did the films. I did read the books a very long time ago–Rick Riordan’s series are the best fantasy novels for kids bar none, fuck all the way off, TERF Queen–so I don’t remember a lot of it, but I thought the series really adapted the books well, and I also appreciated that the cast went with kids rather than teens (or actors in their twenties acting as teens); which made the story make a lot more sense than it would with them in their mid-to-late teens. It’s also such a great concept; I really envy Riordan that idea, seriously. I used to want to do something similar–I still want to write a young adult novel set during the Trojan War–and I’ve had other ideas involving mythology and gods and goddesses, but nothing has ever come to fruition. The best idea I had I am not sure is usable, honestly, but every so often I remember it and think oh, if only…

Ah, well. As it is, I won’t have time to write everything I want to before I die anyway, so there are some things I will never get around to–and as long as it’s taking me to write this damned short story, I may not even wind up writing the things I do think I’ll have the time to get to, of course.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later. You never know, and sorry for being so late today.

Let It Whip

Tuesday, and we survived Monday again! I believe in celebrating even the smallest of achievements, so here we are. I left work early yesterday for PT–I beat the kettlebell this time, and some of the exercises that were dreadful last time were much better this time; still dreadful, but more easily borne than before. I easily could have slept longer this morning, but alas, it was not to be. I also worked on the story some more last night and I was correct; the missing piece of the puzzle I’d worked out over the weekend was exactly what was wrong with the story and why it wasn’t gelling, but the revision is working quite well, which is very pleasing to our eyes. I am slowly waking up–the coffee is quite marvelous this morning and most definitely hitting the spot for sure–and while I didn’t want to get up, I think it’s going to be a terrific day.

The other day I came across something while wandering around on-line which caught me off guard and yet was kind of cool at the same time–Ann Patchett doing a tiktok or a Facebook reel or something like that, in which she was talking about how she’d recently read So Big by Edna Ferber and really enjoyed it. Edna Ferber! I’d had a Ferber phase the last two years of high school, when I read everything I could get my hands on that she’d written–So Big, Come and Get It, Cimarron, Giant, Ice Palace, Saratoga Trunk, Show Boat–and I really enjoyed her work. Ferber was a very successful and very well known writer of the early to mid-twentieth century; many of her books were made into Oscar winning films; and they were mostly Americana, books set in some region of the US during its history and shining a light on the time. She was very well-regarded also as a playwright and short story writer. She was also a member of the Algonquin Round Table. So I thought, “I should reread Saratoga Trunk, which is partly set in New Orleans and I barely remember it” (although I also remember enjoying the film, with Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman) so I went on ebay and found a decent old copy.

Because I don’t already have enough to read on my plate, right?

I also met Ann Patchett a very long time ago, before she published Bel Canto and became ANN PATCHETT. She was very kind, very nice, and I liked her an awful lot. I think her only book at the time was The Patron Saint of Liars, which I read and enjoyed. I doubt very seriously she remembers me, of course; she’s become a huge literary star since I met her and I was just another face among many others that she’s met over the year, but I can say that I met and liked Ann Patchett very early in her career. Watching her success explode has also been a pleasure because it’s always lovely when someone super-nice actually finds enormous success. It restores my faith in humanity and the world.

I also started reading something over the past couple of days–exhausted brain, really–that I am enjoying for its bitchy wit but am not quite ready to talk about just yet, but it’s not anything I’ve been talking about reading on here lately. It’s also not that I am not enjoying the book I was reading–which I was, and look forward to diving back into when I can get it my full and not tired attention–but this is an easier read, if that makes sense? I already know the characters and the story because it’s one of my favorite films, and that’s all I will say about it at this time.

I also made the Saltburn connection that I’d been trying to make since seeing the film the first time–everyone keeps talking about it in reference to either The Talented Mr. Ripley or Brideshead Revisited, and while I could see that, there was always a nagging sense that there was another, more obscure film that it was more like than either of its regular comparisons/influences, and then this weekend it hit me between the eyes what film it was–because in rearranging the books, I discovered the book the film was based on, and the proverbial lightbulb went on over my head. Yes, yes, this film is more Saltburn than the others, and I did wonder if Emerald Fennell had seen the bizarre little film I watched during the pandemic while making condom packs and revisiting (or watching for the first time) /classic films from the Cynical 70’s–and now I have the hook for my essay/blog entry on Saltburn, so watch this space because I’ll eventually get around to writing it; I inevitably do, and I do think this conversation about the film is actually timeless, so there you go.

But it’s time to start getting cleaned up, pack my lunch box, and head out on the highway to the office to start my work day. I get to come straight home from work tonight, which is lovely, and maybe can get some chores done as well as some writing before Sparky bonding time. Until my next appearance, have a lovely one, Constant Reader!

Keep the Fire Burnin’

Monday morning and back to the office, with parades starting this weekend and how did it get to be parade season so damned fast? I slept decently last night, but it’s cold (not as cold as it’s been though) again this morning and the heater ran all night so downstairs doesn’t feel chippy the way it was when it was ultra cold. I have PT tonight after I get off work, too, which is going to be challenging again as I suspect my weights will go up. I don’t know about the kettlebell exercise; how well will I do with it today? Balance has never been one of my strengths. after all, and that was the primary problem I had with the kettlebell thing the other day. I am not client-facing today, either, which is nice. I didn’t get nearly enough done this weekend as I would have liked–what else is new, really–and so I am facing down yet another week of work in the office with parades on the horizon and next weekend being even a wilder weekend of parades and so forth.

We did watch the figure skating yesterday to see Ilia Malinin take his second US title; Paul mentioned this was probably the first time he could remember all four winners in all four disciplines not skating a clean final program. He may be right–its unusual for ice dancers to make major and noticeable mistakes–but I can’t remember who has won national titles over the years anymore. I used to remember, but I don’t anymore. I am comforting myself with this particular lack of memory being explained away as “well, you’re older and thus have more to remember than you used to”, which is a bit of a comfort. I also kept track of the football games without watching; happy for Taylor and the Chiefs as well as a little disappointed that the Lions didn’t make their first ever super bowl; remembering that magic year when the Saints went to and won their first always makes me hope that some other city and fan-base gets to experience that magical delirium the way we did all those years ago. (I inevitably always will root for the underdog; it’s just how I’ve always been.) But congratulations to both the Chiefs and the 49ers for making the Super Bowl. One fanbase is going to be really happy in a couple of weeks. So does that mean the Super Bowl is also on Bacchus Sunday? Guess I won’t be watching–not that I would have in the first place, not being a fan of either team…but it is fun watching Taylor Swift trigger the MAGAts.

I didn’t read much this weekend either. I didn’t write or read much, but I did put a lot of thought into writing–you know, the writing-in-your-head thing that we all do and absolutely it counts as writing, thank you very much. I had kind of gotten lost in the story currently under construction, and then of course while watching something this weekend it occurred to me that I needed a different opening and then it hit me how to finish the story, and how the end needed to be threaded throughout the story…so I decided that I am, indeed, going to start rewriting it from the beginning and hopefully that will give me the impetus to get the story’s first draft finished so I can move on to the next one whose ending I’ve also solved in my head already before moving on to one that I already know the ending of but don’t know the middle. Heavy heaving sigh–it’s always something, isn’t it?

(I did start reading the novelization of The Last of Sheila, which will be discussed at greater length once I finish it.)

And now January is almost finished. I cannot believe this Thursday is the 1st–yay, all the bills are coming due again–but that’s cool. I think I am going to just take Lundi Gras off so I can have a four day weekend and won’t have to mess with trying to get to work or dealing with getting home that day. PT is also going to be a major bitch to try to figure out along the way as well. This week isn’t so bad, I have it scheduled for Friday morning and I have another appointment that morning as well, but next week? Monday should be fine, and if I can schedule it for Friday morning that should be perfect. I can also go on Lundi Gras in the morning, and then we will have made it through parade season. I also have an appointment with my surgeon later in February, so I can find out how much more PT I have to endure before I am considered healed again.

It’s kind of weird that I’ve been dealing with this for over a year now, isn’t it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines to get my day going. Have a lovely Monday wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again later.

Even the Nights Are Better

I slept in again this morning, and I feel rested and marvelous–if a bit chilly. (And yes, a quick check of the weather shows that it’s in the fifties this morning, and will dip into the forties overnight.) My plan to not leave the house this entire weekend has hit a snag; I do have to go make groceries this morning because there are a few things that are needed, alas and alack. But my coffee is tasting rather marvelous this morning, and as I said, I feel rested and good. Yesterday was a lazy day in which I didn’t do a whole lot of anything, really. I did some cleaning and laundry and put some things away, but mostly worked on cleaning up computer files (it is horrifying how out of control those all are, really) as well as spending quality time with Sparky. We watched both the ice dance and pairs finals yesterday for the US Figure Skating Championships, and binged Lupin in between. I didn’t stay up much later, and went to bed before ten…which makes the oversleeping particularly curious and interesting. But not complaining here at all. Sure, it would have been nice to get up earlier and get more things done this morning, but part of anxiety-free living very much includes not beating myself up over things I can no longer control. I can’t go back in time and get up earlier, so why feel regret or shame over it?

Constant Reader, I may actually be getting healthier mentally–finally.

So, yes, I do have to leave the house this morning–best to do it early and get it out of the way, right? I think I will also go to Mid-city to make the groceries. I like that I am willing to break routines now, and do things differently than the way I always used to. Does that sound odd or crazy? But I fall into ruts quite easily, partly because of my desire to always maximize efficiency and use my time most effectively. I still do this, of course–that will never change, methinks–I always try to plan how to run errands the most efficient way, but I’m not sure it’s necessary anymore. I find myself with time on my hands to waste these days. My inbox is always crammed full with things I have to at the very least acknowledge and read, and I like that very much; I’m always behind on my emails now because I no longer get as many so I no longer feel the need to answer everything immediately. I also don’t feel the urgency to pick up the mail every day the way I used to, either.

So, unless my plans get derailed this morning, my plan is to write this, answer some emails, do some cleaning around here and work on “When I Die” some more before getting cleaned up and heading for the grocery. I had hoped to finish that story and another this weekend, but Paul/Sparky time yesterday proved too much of a distraction and a necessity; Paul and I generally don’t see each other much during these last few months before the festivals, so when the opportunity presents itself, it becomes my priority and I will never apologize for that. I know I’ll watch the men’s final this afternoon, most likely, so I’ll definitely need to get a move on this morning to get everything accomplished that I want to accomplish before the skating starts. I also want to spend some time with Lina’s book, which I am really enjoying and want to carve out some time to enjoy it as well today. I did rearrange and reorganize the books yesterday–it’s amazing what a difference that makes for the appearance of tidiness in the living room, and hope to do the same for the laundry room shelves at some point; there are also some things stored there–the cake carrier, the brace–that don’t need to be there, which opens up more shelf-space.

I also got a new set of knives this week. My old set, which I’d bought about eight years ago at Costco, was just getting too dull and had been sharpened too many times, so I broke down and found a nice set of Oster stainless steel knives (dishwasher safe, no less) on-line and ordered them; and wow, I’d forgotten what it was like to actually have sharp knives. The cheese knife slices through block cheese like its warm butter, and when I cut up the rotisserie chicken for chicken salad yesterday I couldn’t believe how easily the knife was dicing the chicken and the celery. Clearly, I’d waited too long to buy a new set of knives, and I do really like them, you know. The block is smaller than the old one so it takes up less counter space, and the stainless steel handles look so modern and stylish–so yes, you could say that I am very pleased with myself regarding the knives. There are some other things I need to get around here to make life easier–blinds for my windows, since the crepe myrtles are gone and not coming back; a medal case for those medals I won for y/a (Sleeping Angel and Lake Thirteen were the books that won–gold and silver); and maybe this rolling cart I saw at Office Depot that can replace this little table next to my desk so that I can keep the office supples and so forth in, emptying out other drawers so I can use them for something else.

New knives, new microwave: who dis? Hell, I even bought more spoons to replace the ones that had gone missing!

I really do like getting better organized, what can I say? It gives me the illusion that my life is somehow ordered and orderly, and so what if it’s a delusion? It makes me feel better, and yeah, that’s probably partly an anxiety issue but it’s not as intense as it used to be and I don’t look at mess in horror anymore, but rather as something that can be tidied, and that is still satisfying for me to do.

And on that note, I think I am going to head into the spice mines. Y’all have a great Sunday now, you hear? And I may be back later; I may not be back until tomorrow morning. Who knows? We shall see how it all turns out, shan’t we?

Hard to Say I’m Sorry

Saturday morning and I slept late blog, which is perfectly okay and not a cause for panic anymore over the “lost hours” I “wasted” this morning sleeping longer. I feel good this morning, actually, rested and alert and clear-headed, too. I had planned to not leave the house this weekend, but I may have to make a slight grocery run today to pick up a few things. I did spend some time in bed this morning awake and cuddling with Sparky while wondering if I do indeed need to go out into the rain or if it can wait until tomorrow or even Monday. There are a few things I do need, and if I go out of the house I can maybe get a burger somewhere, like Five Guys or Sonic. Decisions, decisions, you know? I’ve not had a burger in weeks, either, or red meat of any kind. This hasn’t been a conscious choice, of course, just how things have worked out. I weighed myself at work the other day and was still at around 203-204 (with my shoes, belt, wallet and keys on my person) so I am much closer to the 2024 goal weight I wanted to achieve.

And yes while it would be nice to go back under 200 again, I don’t really think that’s going to happen. And I don’t care if I do! At some point, I made progress on that score, too, which is really nice. Maybe it’s being over sixty and being seriously out of fucks to give? Whatever, it does feel lovely not to be worried about people thinking I look out of shape or gross or something. (I also haven’t set foot in a gay bar in practically a decade, if not longer. Coincidence? Probably not.)

Yesterday was a nice, quiet day around here. I spent the day doing chores around work duties. Sparky was his usual Big Energy Kitten self, galloping around and leaping at me and climbing me to ride my shoulders (his favorite place, I swear), but I managed to get dishes done and laundry finished and some picking up around here done before the LSU Gymnastics meet last night at Missouri; they didn’t win the meet and they had a below-par performance, especially after logging one of the highest scores of the year the week before against Kentucky. But it’s a long season and you can never count them out, as we discovered last year when they made the Final Four at the end of the year. After that we watched the figure skating, which wasn’t great, frankly. But I am happy for Amber Glenn to finally win the national title, even if she kind of backed into it, and it’ll be fun to watch the ice dance and the men this weekend. It was also a nice day because Paul worked at home, so he was here all day too, which I liked. I hate being a Festival widow, seriously. But it’ll be past soon, and then we’ll be heading into the summer with all that entails–stinging caterpillars, swarming termites, and high Entergy bills.

I’m hoping to get some good writing work done this weekend and not to be lazy, which is always a struggle for me. I want to get this first draft of “When I Die” finished, and I really want to finish the first draft of “Parlor Tricks” this weekend, as well as some other writing as well. I also have a stack of mail to get through, and some filing and other mess to straighten up here in the office space, which is all too often a victim of Big Kitten Energy, and it is again this morning as well. I also want to do the floors on the first floor again, and we also need to change the vent filter for the HVAC system, which is undoubtedly seriously overdue. (I need to order more filters, too, since the one I have is the last one, and there are some other things I could use from Lowe’s I could have delivered as well. Yay, delivery! I also need some things from Office Depot, but I don’t mind walking over there in the rain to get it, either. Maybe I can order a pizza for lunch from U Pizza as well as some things from Office Depot, which I can pick up in one fell swoop? I’m really getting back into pizza again, if you hadn’t noticed, but it had been years since I had a real pizza before Paul brought that one home from Midway on Freret–which is what I really want, actually–but I suppose the smart thing to do is finish this, do some email and cleaning around here while eating breakfast, then figuring out what I need to get from places and making an errand plan for either today or tomorrow. Of course, I could save the groceries until tomorrow as well….hmmm. Decisions, decisions.

Choices, said in Tatianna’s voice.

Looks like someone’s Big Kitten Energy has awakened as well, as I hear things crashing to the floor from the counters behind me. Sparky sure is lucky he is so darned cute and sweet, you know? LOL. He actually is, and he is definitely the boss around here too, with both of us wrapped around his monstrously sized paw.

All right, I think it’s time to bring this to a close and get on with the day. I need to empty the dishwasher and do some filing and cleaning, and I also need to make something to eat because I woke up very hungry this morning. So have a lovely Saturday wherever you are, Constant Reader, and who knows? I may be back later; I may not be back until tomorrow; it’s a mystery!

Even the Nights Are Better

Constant Reader, I didn’t write a damned thing last night.

It rained pretty much all day, and the city was in a flash flood warning for most of it (again today as well), and I managed to make it through the work day fine. I got off work early because of PT, left and got the mail on the way to PT, and then made groceries after PT. PT amped up yesterday and was not easy the way it had been; there was even an exercise at the very end I simply could not do. As I also despise failing at something, that was a needed exercise in humility. At the same time, it was also the first time I’ve tried any exercise since the surgery that I wasn’t able to do–and the surgery was two months ago this week. So, rather than being hard on myself about it, I chose to accept it as a milestone and something I need to overcome rather than a failure. (See how the meds are working for me now? In October that would have sent me into a funk of depression and “I’m such a loser” thinking, so I am not sure if I just have a better mental attitude, if its the meds working, or a combination of two. Regardless, I am counting it as a win.) So, I got home from work, did a few things around here, and eventually fell asleep in my easy chair, which is where I was when Paul got home. He woke me up and I went to bed and slept beautifully all night–partly because of the rain–and so here we are, with me feeling rested, it’s gray and gloomy and rainy outside, and I am working at home so I do not have to leave the house unless I want to. Huzzah!

I have to say I’ve really not been tired or groggy all week–I haven’t been that way in the morning in a very long time, but I do start falling asleep around nine-ish every night. I guess my body has not only adjusted to the lovely new meds but also to my work schedule. There’s really no chance I’ll stay up later than I should on a weeknight now because I am conking out once the clock strikes nine. I hope to get a lot of things done today around the house and around work-at-home duties; I feel really good and energized this morning. Sam the handyman came in and painted the kitchen ceiling yesterday (it looks so nice this morning!) but left the giant ladder in the kitchen so he could come in and do some touching up, and needless to say, the massive ladder is a delightful playground for Sparky–who not only loves to climb but also has figured out how to climb down, too. I told you he’s a very smart boy…and so big! Not full grown yet, either. I think he is going to be bigger than Skittle, who was also a very big boy.

Yikes!

I’m hoping to get a lot done this weekend, frankly, but I am also not going to worry about holding my feet to the fire should I not. I do want to finish this story I’ve been working on this week, and I do want to do some more writing along the way. I also want to spend some quality time reading Lina Chern’s Playing the Fool and maybe finishing off some of these other posts I’ve been playing with for quite some time. I would like to finish my analysis of Saltburn (which I can also rewatch again, which is marvelously possible thanks to streaming services), as well as my analysis of the latest volume in Heartstopper, and why it made me a bit uncomfortable, just as the show’s second season was questionable in some ways. I still like and appreciate it very much, but at the same time, nothing is above criticism and critique, especially when it’s approached in a positive way. Because the bottom line is I do think Heartstopper, both book and show, are vitally important works; there’s just a couple of things I find questionable, which is also a broader question for the community as a whole, too.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday wherever you are, Constant Reader, and stay safe and dry, New Orleans!

Don’t You Want Me

And just like that, it is Thursday again. I have to leave the office a little early today because I have PT at five today, which means getting uptown at a peak traffic time. But it’s a nice way to end my day, really; I doubt I’ll be much in the mood to do much of anything when I get home from that. Tomorrow is another work-at-home Friday, which means I’ve somehow managed to get through another week, and January is rapidly coming to a close. The first night of parades is a week from tomorrow! But my work schedule has been all worked out, I might have to use up some vacation time here and there to make up for leaving the office early that big final weekend, but that’s also okay. It’s hard to believe it’s here already; Krewe de Vieux is this weekend, too.

I did write last night when I got home. I didn’t write as much as I did the night before, but I am very happy with the slightly less than two thousand words I added to my story “When I Die,” and I also realized last night–and double checked to be sure–that my geography in the story was wrong; I then looked at a map to see that yes, I was indeed correct about the geography in question. The story is also running a bit long–but the geography mistake will save me some words when I go back and make that correction. The story is taking shape nicely, and I think I may even be able to get it finished tonight, if I remain ambitious and stay on top of things. I was a bit tired when I got home from the office yesterday, but did manage to get some chores done and yes, I spent some time playing with Sparky, which is always a lovely and nice way to wind down from the stress and aggravations of a work day. I also took care of something that I’d been avoiding and hadn’t been terribly happy about, in all honesty, but it felt really good to get it taken care of and was one of those things I do generally avoid and put off in case of unpleasantness, but I got it taken care of and am very pleased with myself, to be perfectly honest.

But it does feel amazing to be writing again. I’m not worrying about the quality of the story or anything, just getting it out there, and it is starting to take shape nicely. I am giving my creativity free rein with the story, and so I know I am overwriting and probably contradicting myself and other things like that, but I am also really looking forward to polishing, editing, and trimming it down into shape. I really do love short stories and I really enjoy the challenge of writing them (novels are easier for me, which doesn’t make any sense), and I am really liking this story. I have another on deck that I am looking forward to finishing, too. Let’s hear it for writing again, shall we? Huzzah? HUZZAH!

I slept really well last night–it rained overnight, which always makes me sleep better, and I don’t have to leave the house tomorrow, which means I can sleep late if I so choose, and I am starting to feel better about how the apartment looks and getting it back under control. I have another load of dishes to do when I get home tonight after emptying the dishwasher, and I also have laundry in various stages that all need to be finished off this evening when I get home. I’m pretty pleased with how well this first full week of work has gone for me, at least so far; I am neither tired nor fatigued this morning, I got up easily, and my coffee tastes marvelous. I think we have a slow day at the office today so I can get things done that I need to so I can sail into my work-at-home day relatively easily. Next Friday I have a doctor’s appointment and PT on the same morning of the first day of parades, which means any and all errands for the weekend must be completed by the afternoon so I can safely park the car on the street for the weekend. I think it’s supposed to rain all day today, too, and the weather is warming up some. I could tell last night that the weather was changing; it wasn’t stuffy and warm enough to turn on the air conditioning, but it was borderline close.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and you never know–I may be back later, I may not. Stay tuned!

Abracadabra

I wrote yesterday.

I don’t know if all writers have the same fears that I do, but chief amongst them for me is that the words will stop coming one day. I know, I often will have fallow periods where I don’t feel like writing anything, or that the well needs to be replenished before I can draw from it again. Since the surgery I’ve been trying to write, and not succeeding. The brace was a problem, the loopiness of my brain was another problem, and of course the correct medications at long last also relieved me of the stress/anxiety, which naturally I worried my anxiety might be the seed and root from which my writing sprang. But last night when I got home from work I was determined, and I sat down and started writing. I had been trying to work on this short story for quite some time, and over the last few weeks the form of the story began taking shape in my head. I decided, once I got home from running errands, I was going to sit down and work on the story. The most I’ve ever been able to do at a time since the surgery is a couple of hundred words here and there, and a great day was getting more than three hundred. I had started the story last week, got about five hundred or so words in, and then….not much. But last night, I sat down and added almost twenty-five hundred words to it in one sitting. And it felt amazing. I’m sure they aren’t great words and more story and editing is definitely required on the story, but I hadn’t had a writing day like that in a very long time–so long I’d also reached a point where I was worried that the words weren’t going to come anymore.

It’s so nice to know that isn’t the case, and that the magic is still there.

And it feels even better this morning. I just needed one day of that, apparently, to get my confidence back. Hopefully, tonight I’ll finish that story and tomorrow night after work and PT I can start another.

I was a Festival widow again last night–Paul not getting home until well after I went to bed–but last night was, of course, the final episode of the three-part reunion for The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which was kind of disappointing, given all that had been promised. Ironically, reality television (or at least the kind I prefer to watch) has become so scripted and produced that surprises–like the ones this show delivered–are very rare (and you also have to wonder, still, how much of it was produced and created), and so they get a lot of attention and publicity and are all over the zeitgeist (Vanderpump Rules and Scandoval, anyone?), and of course, ratings are the most important thing. Anyway, I did spend almost two hours watching that and even the Watch What Happens Live that follows, which I never watch (I loathe Andy Cohen), but that was it for me; once the credits rolled I went to bed and had another lovely night’s sleep.

It feels, in some ways, like my life is starting to come back together and fall back into what it was before 2023 again, which is kind of nice. I’ve felt like my life has been out of my control for a very long time now (and yes, I’ve accepted finally that such control is actually an illusion; we have so little control over what happens to us and in our lives, really), but I kind of feel like I’m starting to get a grasp on everything again, and that’s nice. It’s amazing what a difference it makes when I actually am writing something, isn’t it? I feel so much better and at peace with the world and centered. Life provides enough drama as it is, so why seek it out? I find myself checking Twitter less and less now; I do miss the people I used to engage with there, who are now scattered over numerous other platforms, and having to check more than one and try to be active on more than one (and let’s face it, both Twitter and Facebook were more than enough for me) is more than I have the bandwidth for, let alone any such desire to maintain all these different social media accounts. I do seem to spend most of my time on social media blocking people more than anything else, and I don’t know that that is a productive use of my time on social media? Looking for people to block rather than to interact with? Really no, and it’s just more negativity.

Because that’s what I need more of in my life: negativity. Please.

And on that note, I think I’ll go ahead and head into the spice mines. I may be back later or it may be tomorrow; who can say for sure? But whatever happens, have a lovely middle of the week Wednesday, Constant Reader.