Category: diversity

Heard It In A Love Song

Can’t be wrong.

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and I am exhausted again. Yesterday morning I was still a bit on the foggy side mentally, and kind of planned to just hang out all day until it was time to meet people at Lilette for dinner at seven. I settled in with my manuscript, turned the television onto college football, and got started. I had completely forgotten I’d agreed to meet folks for a drink in the afternoon. Once I got the reminder text, I leapt into action and got cleaned up, summoning a Lyft. I wound up also going to the Queer Crime Writers’ cocktail hour at the Ritz Carlton bar, and from there it was on to Lilette for dinner, which was amazing and a lot of fun. I am exhausted again this morning, but it’s not as bad as it was on Friday (thank God) despite getting home late and kind of overdoing it again. But again, I can just retire to my easy chair with the manuscript and my red pen and post-it notes so I can get moving on this damned thing.

LSU won in what was apparently a very sloppy game for the offense, only beating Louisiana Tech 23-7, or something like that. I’m not really sure about the games yesterday and how they all turned out, so I am probably going to have to watch a video about them this morning before I get to work on the manuscript. I also saw that Florida, LSU’s next opponent, lost to USF at home, which is not a good look for them or their hot-seated coach. So, will Florida be fired up to take that loss out on LSU, or will LSU clean up its act and bury Florida? It’s almost always a great game, regardless–rarely does one team blow the other out, no matter what their rankings or records.

There are some great games next weekend, though, so that will be a lot of fun.

I may do some chores later after I’ve read for a bit. This aching-joint thing is not fun, just so you know. In fact, I think I’m going to go rest for a moment before I finish writing this.

Okay, I am back. I am still very fatigued and foggy, but I sat for a while in my chair and watched some news and college football scores, and feel a bit better and more clear headed. My stomach is being a bit weird, but I am also due for my first injection tomorrow so maybe this isn’t the start of a relapse (the fatigue was worrying, despite what my doctor said), which was a relief.

After I do finish and post this, I am going to get a bit cleaned up and dive back into the reading with the USOpen men’s final on in the background–like it is now. I like both players (although I think Carlos Alcaraz is cuter), so just want to listen (and occasionally look up to see) great tennis.

I would also like to shout out to those who won Anthony Awards last night, and especially Curtis Ippolito (Best Short Story), K. T. Nguyen (Best First), Rob Osler (Best Humorous), and all the others I can’t think of right now. I met Ms. Nguyen at Noir at the Bar, and she’s delightful (as was her reading), and of course Curtis and Rob are friends–and Rob is a queer writer of queer mysteries, so huzzah for this groundbreaking win! MORE QUEER WINNERS, please!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the rest of the day. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

Rock and Roll Heaven

Well, yesterday was a lesson to me.

I was fatigued like I haven’t been since before I went into the hospital. Everything ached–back, hips, ankles, and neck–and my muscles were so damned tired that getting up and walking into the kitchen became more and more horrific every time I did. The coffee yesterday morning staved the exhaustion for a while, but it was really my worst day since May. I did get my day job duties done, but any thoughts about going down to Bouchercon were off the table as I was exhausted. I wound up falling asleep in my chair around nine last night, went upstairs around eleven, and slept until nine this morning with no objection from Sparky…so he knew how tired I was, precious little darling that he is. Even now he’s not trying to attack my feet or calves the way he usually does when I am sitting here typing in the morning. He’s so adorable, really. Who knew I’d turn into a cat person for the latest third of my life?

Tonight I am having dinner with some of the Queer Crime Writers at Lilette, which will be nice, and I was thinking yesterday that it might not hurt to go down there around four or five, see some people and hang out before dinner. (Sparky just attacked my left leg, so we’re back to normal here in the Lost Apartment this morning.) But given how exhausted I was yesterday…not sure if I should risk it, in all honesty. But I think part of it yesterday was not sleeping terribly well–my body was exhausted, but my mind was overstimulated and I couldn’t turn it off, plus I didn’t get home until after midnight and had to get up early. Maybe if I’d had time to nap yesterday there might have been a different outcome? I honestly don’t know. But today I am going to continue to rest and recover (my doctor told me yesterday morning that the fatigue occurrences also have to do with my newly compromised immune system and getting used to the medication and should probably no longer be an issue by the new year, greeeeeaaaaaatttt), and see how I feel this afternoon about heading down there. I think all I am really going to do much of today is reading here on the home front, along with some chores. Paul has his trainer this afternoon so he won’t be around much today, either. I am hopeful that taking it fairly easy today will put me in a position to do some writing tomorrow.

And no, seeing pictures on social media aren’t giving me FOMO, either–which is emotional progress, isn’t it?

And since I have a compromised immune system, is it wise to be in a massive crowd of people in the first place? Probably not, since the world is full of assholes as we learned during COVID (which hasn’t gone away, just no one talks about it anymore), and I also need to follow up with the pharmacy to make sure that a) they have it and b) which brand it is, because the prescription has to be exact. You can’t just write a prescription for the vaccine, you have to know whether it’s Moderna or Pfizer or whatever brand they are now. Thanks again, RFK Jr, you leather-skinned incompetent asshole and you also must be so glad both your parents are dead. When your entire family comes out against you…what does that say? But then again the Kennedy name used to be hated with the heat of a dozen white-hot stars the way the names Clinton and Obama are now, and conservative haters have long memories.

And on that note, I am going to take my manuscript to my chair and start reading during the dreadful morning football shows (there are very few ESPN football commentators I don’t loathe), so you have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning with a report on today.

I love artists’ renderings of Egyptian sites!

I Need a Lover

Friday and yet another work-from-home day blog. I have a department meeting this morning, and a team meeting–all before a doctor’s appointment this morning. I was thinking about attending the Crooked Lane party tonight at Bouchercon, but we’re going to see how I feel later on…whether I do want to go down there or not. Scrolling through my Facebook feed did not give me FOMO yesterday or the day before at all, either.

I am exhausted this morning. I had dinner and wonderful conversation with a friend before Noir at the Bar, and we had an enormous crowd–so much so that I kind of got overwhelmed and nervous when we got started. After that, I had a weird Lyft experience, in which my ride got canceled while I was in the car, and had to get out and start over again. This happened right in front of the conference hotel, so I thought, what the hell and went into the bar to hang out with my Queer Crime Writers gang. I also ran into some other people I really like (and Bryon Quertermous), which was also kind of nice. But that second wind didn’t last very long, and then I summoned another ride and headed home, exhausted, and didn’t get to bed until almost one–waaaaaay past my bedtime. I was surprised I lasted that long, honestly, but this morning I am exhausted, my hips and ankles ache, and while my brain is alert, my body is most definitely not. I was planning on going to the Crooked Lane party this evening, and possibly the Underrepresented Writers event, but it will absolutely depend on how I feel. I am not going to exhaust myself, and risk another relapse.

So, I have some things to get done today for work and I have a follow-up appointment with my primary care doctor. Nothing to worry about, it’s just the half-year annual check-up, and of course, discussing how I’m doing since the hospital stay. Outside of the fatigue and running out of energy so regularly, I am doing quite well. My gastro system hasn’t been an issue since I checked out of the hospital, and Monday is when I am getting my first injection (and learning how to do it myself). I don’t know how that is going to effect me, either; but I don’t think it will take me a full week to recover from them since they aren’t as intense as the infusions were.

The coffee is starting to kick in, but my legs are still tired and achy. But it’s an improvement, and huzzah for that! Hopefully being able to sleep in tomorrow (as late as Sparky will let me) will knock the fatigue out and put it to rest for awhile. Ha, I spoke too soon. As I got up to get more coffee just now, my legs had stiffened up! The joys of getting older, I guess. Heavy heaving sigh. But the weather has been exceptionally nice for Bouchercon; almost like Mother Nature is making up for the one Hurricane Ida (bitch) canceled in 2022.

And on that note, I should probably head into the spice mines and start working. Have a lovely and marvelous Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Count on Me

Tuesday and back to the office with me! Much as I hate getting up to an alarm, it wasn’t so rough this morning. I would prefer to stay in bed much longer under my pile of blankets and Sparky on my pillow above my head, but them’s the breaks, I guess. I made hardly a dent into my to-do list that I made yesterday morning, but again–them’s the breaks. I don’t think we’re terribly busy today. Next week? We are super-booked up with appointments next week….but even next week is a little soon for any STI’s to show up from this past Decadence weekend. (FYI, the window period for gonorrhea can be up to four weeks…)

It was a lovely weekend of rest and relaxation. Bouchercon is here this weekend, and so I am off Thursday and Friday so if I want to go down there and be seen, I can. I am hosting Noir at the Bar on Thursday night at the Crescent City Brewhouse, and have dinner plans for Lilette on Saturday night, but I don’t think (or remember) if I’ve agreed to anything else. I suspect I’ll end up not going down there very often or very much, to be honest. We shall see how it all goes, and I suspect it will have more to do with my fatigue levels than anything else. It really irritates me that I am still not at 100%. Patience, Gregalicious, patience. I’ve never been very patient.

It was a fairly calm and quiet Labor Day. I did get the downstairs orderly again, and did the floors (I love my new vacuum cleaner), and dipped into The Hunting Wives for a bit. I also made some notes on the new Scotty and also came up with how to write a short story I’ve been struggling with for years (staggering to realize how long that some stories sit in my files before I get around to finishing them), and I am not entirely sure this idea will actually work, so we’ll have to see how that all turns out.

We watched Platonic and Foundation last night, and we started the second season of Shrinking (ROY KENT!!!), which was a lot of fun, and I look forward to getting back into Shrinking tonight.

It was so lovely to come downstairs to a clean apartment with the rugs clean and put back in place (Sparky always moves them), and I had some lovely coffee this morning as well. It’s an odd week–I’m only in the office today and tomorrow, and I have a lot of things to do before the end of the work week. I also have a doctor’s appointment Friday morning as well…

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday wherever you are, Constant Reader!

Galveston

I always wanted to write a romantic suspense novel, a la Phyllis A. Whitney’s, set in Galveston where some of the mystery dates back to the Great Hurricane of 1900. It seemed like the perfect setting for one of her novels–she was very much a master of place and wanted her readers to get a very strong sense of where the books were set–and who knows? Maybe someday I will. Maybe someday I’ll take a week and spent it on the island doing research and getting a sense of the place.

Stranger things have happened, after all.

Good morning on this fine Labor Day, and I am up early because Sparky was incredibly hungry and hadn’t been fed in forever (per him) but I don’t mind being up early. I have things to do today and I’ve been fatigued all weekend and unable to do much of anything. I’m not entirely sure how this weekend slipped so completely through my fingers the way it did, but that’s fine. I must have needed the rest. Yesterday started out fine but by the time the afternoon rolled around I was fatigued and around two I finally gave up on getting much done and plopped down in my chair to watch the South Carolina/Virginia Tech and Miami/Notre Dame games (both teams I wanted to win, did. Huzzah!). We did take some time off from the Miami game to finish watching Hostage, which was quite excellent, before switching back to the game. I feel asleep and went to bed before it was over, so naturally I checked the score first thing this morning over my coffee. It was an interesting weekend of college football to get the season started. This week’s rankings will be interesting, but I am also of the mindset that rankings this early in the season–before we know how good anyone is–are pointless and predicated on reputation and how well they did last year…but that’s also a fallacy nowadays. Florida State was 2-10 last year; who would have ever thought they would beat ALABAMA this year?

It may not be a good season for Alabama fans, who are the most impatient in the world.

I also spent some time yesterday reading The Hunting Wives, which is very different thus far than the television show–but in a good way, which is like enjoying the same story twice. If you like the story, you should enjoy it, right? The television show reminded me of glossy melodramatic soaps from the 1980s, Knots Landing and Dallas and Lace and others of a similar tone, and was incredibly fun with lots of twists and turns. The book is different. It’s glossy the way the show is, but there’s also a raw kernel of honesty/unreliability in the POV character that is very different from the show. I did some writing work–mostly thinking some things through and taking notes–but not much and I’ll need to do more today.

I need to make a to-do list for today only and see how it all works out. I should also update the weekly one I currently am working on. At least I am up early, right? I am not sure how busy we’ll be in the office this week, but I only have two days in the office this week anyway. Paul has his trainer this afternoon, and so will be out of the house most of the day after sleeping in, so I’ll have some focus time for writing today.

I love my new phone, by the way, but need to stop playing with it all the time.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Labor Day, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning again.

Oh Sherrie

Saturday in the Lost Apartment, and I am going to take it very easy this morning. I got my flu shot yesterday after work, and it knocked me for a loop the way it does every year. It also occurs to me that this year’s much worse reaction has everything to do with the ulcerative colitis, a compromised immune system, and the medication I take for it. Last evening, as I switched between the US Open and the Auburn-Baylor game (WAR EAGLE!) while trying to read The Hunting Wives, I didn’t feel sick or anything, just exhausted and my joints (especially the hips) ached and kept locking up, so every time I got up to do something it was awkward and uncomfortable at first as everything unkinked. The hips ache again this morning, too.

I was hoping to not leave the house today, but I have to replace my phone. Thursday night when I got home from work I couldn’t find my phone before I went to bed. I used the “find my phone” feature, and discovered it was last located at the corner of Marigny and Claiborne, where I turn onto Claiborne. Yesterday morning I went to look for it, but the battery was undoubtedly dead and that was its last known location. I couldn’t find it anywhere, so obviously someone found it. I erased it once I got back home, and one of my errands yesterday was to go to the AT&T store on St. Charles to replace it. The girl who “helped” me wasn’t very good at her job, I think, because she finally just told me to go to the other store on Magazine Street. It was all very weird and strange, and having already had the flu shot was already getting tired, so I went to Raising Cane’s to get something to eat and came home. So I have to go to the store on Magazine this morning, and might as well go by the mail and the Fresh Market on my way home, hopefully with a new phone. It’s been weird not having one, but kind of nice at the same time. I really need to break my phone addiction.

College football season has already sort of started, but it kicks into gear today. LSU plays at Clemson tonight, Alabama plays Florida State (I think?) and Texas is at Ohio State today. I’ll probably not do much of anything except some chores during the games. A new football season is always kind of exciting because nobody really knows what will happen, and the “rankings” are based on nothing more than last year’s results and the opinion of “experts”–and the older I get the less I want to hear from “experts.” The only truly decent commentator–one who isn’t full of himself and talks to hear himself talk–is Greg McElroy, the former Alabama quarterback. He is a sports journalist, he isn’t biased, and he takes his job seriously. I wish he was the primary color commentator for SEC games. Sigh. I really miss Keith Jackson every Saturday in the fall…

I wrote and published my Katrina newsletter/essay (click there to read it if you haven’t and want to), and of course last night as I watched the third episode of Spike Lee’s Katrina: Come Hell and High Water, which was quite excellent. It also reminded me of the biggest lesson out of Katrina, one that I didn’t even realize I’d learned until watching last night: I learned rom the Katrina experience just how privileged I am, and it was the first time in my life I “woke” up and realized it. We had the means to leave, so our story isn’t nearly as traumatic as that of those who couldn’t leave. We lived in the “sliver by the river” so our streets didn’t flood in my neighborhood; our damage was from above with losing the roof…but we still had a place to live in New Orleans so we could come back while the roof and apartment were repaired. Our jobs survived the disaster so we still had income. We didn’t have to ride the storm out in the Superdome, or needed to be rescued from our roof. Yes, the event was traumatizing, but I never felt like I had the right to complain about our situation because we were so much luckier than so many others. There was also that weird experience of, for months and even years, having to catch up on Katrina stories when I ran into someone I hadn’t seen for awhile. “Are you back for good?” was always one of the things I’d ask to start with.

And, oh, it was so lovely running into those folks again!

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

Love Will Find a Way

Work-at-home Friday! I did wake up early this morning–Sparky only let me sleep for another fifteen minutes before getting aggressive about his breakfast. Which was fine, I needed to get up, and somehow not being jolted out of sleep by the alarm has the psychological effect of well I’m up and feel rested. I was again fatigued when I got home last night, which led to me sitting in my chair with my kitty asleep in my lap like a precious baby. I got caught up on the news (update: the country is still ablaze), and then settled in for the first two episodes of Spike Lee’s new Netflix documentary, Katrina: Come Hell and High Water, which is very well done. The two new documentaries on the catastrophe are very well done. It’s depressing and painful to watch them, and remember…but watching has reminded me again of how incompetent the sitting government was, not just here but especially in Washington. (And all the time passed? Hasn’t lessened my eternal hatred for Brownie and Chertoff and others of their ilk–FAUX NEWS–who did everything they could to try to cover for Bush’s great federal failure, demonize New Orleanians, and spread vicious lies that impacted the rescue timetables, may they all burn forever in hell with lighter fluid soaked into their skin.) I wound up going to bed early last night, which probably dramatically helped with getting up so early this morning. Social media and the news today will–as always on the anniversary–be deluged with remembrances and memorials, which are appreciated, but sometimes feels like gritty salt being rubbed into the wounds.

I have a meeting this morning and data entry to do around my errands. I am getting a flu shot today (and seeing about new COVID boosters; I am hoping my age and compromised immune system will qualify me since we now live in Stupid World). I have to return a library book this morning, and I also have to pick up a prescription. I think I’ll have groceries delivered this afternoon as well. We don’t really need very much, though, so maybe I’ll just actually drop into a store on the way home. Or tomorrow; it looks like we’re going to have thunderstorms this afternoon…which will be excellent reading weather, and since I need to finish my reread of Scotty X, that is absolutely perfect. I also have lots of chores to do since I didn’t do fuck-all when I got home last night. We’re also supposed to get some rain this morning, too. So, once I finish this and post it, I’ll work on my chores some and get started on data entry work. I also have some emails to answer, and plenty of emails to send as well.

Southern Decadence, the big gay party weekend, started yesterday but attendance will continue climbing to peak attendance throughout today and into tonight. The weather is lovely for them, rain aside, but they won’t care about the rain anyway. It’s weird that Decadence Friday is also the Katrina anniversary–at the time I’m writing this twenty years ago we were getting up in that miserable hotel outside of Birmingham that checked us in at 2 a.m. but told us we had to be out by ten or pay for another day (their corporate office got a nasty letter from me and I’ve never stayed in one of their hotels again unless a mystery conference was using them, and even then it’s very reluctant and I have to think about it for a long time), and it looked like the levees had held…but there was no one reporting from the lower 9th ward. We didn’t know the levees breached (thanks again, Army Corps of Engineers) until we got to Paul’s mom’s in rural Illinois late that night. Southern Decadence was supposed to be the weekend after Katrina.

I’m not even tempted to even consider going down there this weekend. My, how things have changed.

Crime Ink: Iconic is wracking up kudos in reviews, which is lovely and wonderful. It’s so nice to see queer work getting appreciation from mainstream reviewers…who wouldn’t touch most of us back when I was getting started. This is such a lovely change and it really makes me happy, especially for the new generation of queer mystery writers, who are all very talented and are doing exceptional work.

And on that note, I am going to forage some breakfast and get ready for my day. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning here.

Another statue of Ramses II, in the light of a crescent moon

Kiss You All Over

Thursday morning last day in the office blog, and it’s also the start of Southern Decadence here in New Orleans. Decadence was my favorite time of year for a very long time, but now I’m too old to stand and walk for hours (let alone dance all night) and I also can no longer handle the heat, so I can’t be out there for very long anyway. The last time I was at Decadence was to pass out condoms in 2017 or 2018, I’m not sure which, honestly, but I do remember it was so hot and humid and so many people were out on that Sunday, that I thought I was going to be sick. It had also rained that morning so…yeah, major league humidity that day. Shudder.

How on earth did I ever spend so much time over a weekend partying and dancing in this kind of heat? I guess the drugs helped. And of course, back when I used to participate in the revelry, I was used to the heat more because we generally went out every weekend, and thus was acclimated to it. Not being used to it anymore is my primary problem with the summers here.

I feel rested with just a touch of fatigue this morning. That’s fine, because I can sleep later tomorrow and so I just have to make it through today. On the way home last night I stopped and made groceries; it was odd because there wasn’t much traffic in the CBD. Since school started, getting to work in the morning is more of a pain because there’s heavier traffic both before and after work now–as well as the bane of my existence, school busses on I-10. After I got home I was a kitty bed for a while, and I did do some work and some chores (that still need to be finished). I did make a terrific and comprehensive to-do list yesterday afternoon as well, which was a good feeling. Tonight after work I’ll probably come home and just rest since I work at home tomorrow and it’s a three day weekend. I’m going to DoorDash lunch today at the office so I don’t have so much to carry in this morning, and thus won’t have as much to carry on the way home tonight, either. I also made an appointment for a flu shot (fuck you, RFK Jr and MAGA, now and forever) for Friday morning.

And of course, tomorrow is the Katrina anniversary. I see there’s a new documentary on Netflix about Katrina, I think called Come Hell and High Water, that I want to watch as part of my coping with it all again to try to get it all out of my psyche. I also need to finish my newsletter about the anniversary so I can get it sent out tomorrow. It’s been such a long time now that I suppose it’s “safe” to talk about things that happened decades ago, but I was tired of talking about them and worse, worried that the audience (here or on panels, etc.) was bored with hearing about it. I never want to bore anyone!

Also, yesterday the anthology Celluloid Crimes dropped, with my story “The Last To See Him Alive” in it! I also realized yesterday I have short stories in three anthologies all coming out over a period of a week or so. Wild, isn’t it? My story is an adaptation of the first chapter of Chlorine, so it serves as a preview of the book to come. (It’s different from the first chapter that will appear in Chlorine, but you can get a sense of the novel’s story from the short story that appears here.)

The weather has oddly remained mostly humidity free and cooler than usual, and we’ve not had any rain now for a couple of days. Interesting.

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

Sweet Talkin’ Woman

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around once again, and I am up early, as per the norm. One more day on the office, work-at-home Friday, and then a three day weekend. I have also taken off the Thursday and Friday after Labor Day, because of Bouchercon….so a three day weekend leads into a two-day work week. Ah, well, sometimes it happens, doesn’t it?

I had a good laugh at my own expense yesterday afternoon, as oblivious Greg finally had the proverbial lightbulb come on above his head. I’d been wondering about the fatigue and mental exhaustion of the last couple of weeks (even after the infusion fatigue died away), and even yesterday I was wondering about “maybe” being depressed and not recognizing it since I don’t have anxiety any more…and then it hit me, right between the eyes: The twenty year Katrina anniversary is this Friday! I’ve been reading old blog entries from that time, watching documentaries and videos about Katrina and the aftermath (because I wanted to write an essay for the anniversary), and duh, you think those memories might have had something to do with that possibly-depression? One of the reasons I made Valerie so oblivious in A Streetcar Named Murder was because I, too, am completely oblivious. Some things, apparently, never change. I always am a bit down this time of year. Always.

Yes, I’ve been immersing myself in a very depressing subject and then wondered why I was probably depressed…not much ever gets past me, does it? Heavy heaving sigh. But that’s the obliviousness I was talking about. One can never go wrong assuming I am clueless.

I was also delighted to hear that Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift are engaged. As always, the right lost their minds the way they always do–after all, she’s an anti-Trumper and therefore in their eyes a demon sent from hell to corrupt Amerikkkuh–and I honestly don’t understand why they are always looking to get outraged over things that don’t really concern them or are, frankly, none of their fucking business. See also Sydney Sweeney ad (no one cared except them and a few academics parsing it) and the Cracker Barrel logo nonsense. (They have changed their minds and are keeping the old cracker and the barrel on their logo.) Dean Cain (aka worst Superman ever) made a fool of himself making an ICE recruitment video, which I did enjoy a few cruel laughs over.

All of this begs the question: where are the Epstein files?

So, I am hopeful that tonight I’ll be able to get some things done when I get home. Sparky was needy yesterday because Paul went into his office, so he was home by himself all afternoon…he’s always super-clingy after he’s been left alone, which is very sweet. I don’t know if Paul is working from home today or not–which will determine Sparky’s neediness when I get home, but I just have to remember to pick him up and let him sit on my shoulders (draped around my neck like a stole), which always soothes him and makes him very happy. I did manage to do some of the things on the new to-do list I made up before I left the office yesterday, and I am not berating myself for not getting more done because it was overly ambitious in the first place.

But let me get going with this day and head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

An obelisk in the Karnak temple with the moon overhead.

Love American Style

Monday and it’s back to the office with me. This weekend is Labor Day, which also means it’s Southern Decadence in the French Quarter, which used to be one of my favorite weekends of the year–when I was younger and had more stamina and staying out all night didn’t put me into a coma for a week. I’m enormously pleased to have an extra day off this weekend, and then of course the week after that is Bouchercon. I am not registered, and am only seeing people I want to see. I used to get excited for Bouchercon as much as I’d get excited about Decadence, but alas–those days have passed as well.

And if my last Bouchercon was San Diego, that’s an excellent one to go out on. I had such an amazing time at that one…it would be hard to top that weekend.

I am sure it will come as no surprise to anyone that I didn’t get much done yesterday despite the best laid plans of mice and men. Paul’s trainer cancelled at the last minute, and so I ended up hanging out with Paul (which is always my choice if it’s an option) while I tried to get some things done. I did make some progress, but we wound up getting sucked into the US Open for most of the day. And of course there’s an entire day of college football this Saturday, capped off with LSU at Clemson in the evening. Everyone is predicting LSU to lose, and given the Tigers haven’t won a season opener since Joe Burrow graduated…I can understand the mentality. I’ve no doubt Clemson will be good this year, and I have no doubt that playing at Clemson isn’t easy.

I do feel rested this morning, I have to say, and that’s a nice feeling to wade into another Monday and a new week. I don’t like being tired on Monday mornings for obvious reasons…and I also have a lot to get done today at the office. No worries, since I am not client facing today so I can get a lot of the Admin work taken care of today and be caught up, which is always a rather nice feeling. I also need to update and rewrite my to-do list, which I also need to keep referring to–at least ONCE a day, as opposed to my usual “make the list and never look at it again,” which is highly counterintuitive. Heavy heaving sigh. And some of the things I have to do this week are absolutely things I don’t want to deal with. Ah, well, tis life, isn’t it?

The weather was insanely beautiful this past weekend; that cold front affecting most areas north of here dropped the temperatures into the 80’s and also displaced the humidity, so it was sunny and gorgeous with cool breezes everywhere. I walked to Walgreens yesterday and didn’t even break a sweat–not even my socks got damp. It’s going to be more normal this week, they say, with the humidity coming back with a vengeance so it’ll be a sweaty Decadence this weekend–which of course is a tradition; everyone drenched in sweat and their brief attire plastered to their bodies. If I could still park at the office on Frenchmen Street, I might even drop by down there this weekend just to refresh my memories of what Decadence is like–or see how it’s different from the last time I went down there (pre-pandemic) or how little it’s changed.

I taped a radio/podcast yesterday morning with host Dan White (who is always fun) along with friends John Copenhaver and Robyn Gigl yesterday morning to help promote Crime Ink: Iconic, which is releasing on September 2nd, next Tuesday to be exact. I was very pleased to hear nice commentary on my story yesterday, and that gave me some high hopes for the future of Never Kiss a Stranger, should I ever complete the damned thing. I also have to pick something out to read for Noir at the Bar next Thursday…it would probably be smart to read from my story from the anthology, but it’s not really noir. I am leaning towards reading “This Town” again; I’ve only read it publicly once, and why not? I am proud of the story and it does lend itself to being read aloud.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Monday, Constant Reader. I’ll be back tomorrow!

Michelangelo’s David’s hand. Stunning, isn’t it?