Words

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rain

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Chauvin, Louisiana Sculpture Garden, in Terrebonne Parish

Spanish Eyes

Work at home Friday! I feel most excellent this morning as I sit here at my desk inside the windows, my windows covered with condensation and it being actually very chilly inside this morning. It’s in the high seventies outside right now. I ran errands on my way home yesterday and felt pretty worn down when I got inside and fed the Sparkster. Sparky wanted to sleep in my lap, so I gave in and provided him with a lap while I saw in my easy chair and did my usual catch up on the news thing while my min mostly wandered. I didn’t do any of the chores I wanted to get done last night, and this morning I do regret pushing that off until this morning. I have my biweekly team meeting at ten, and lots of paperwork to get caught up on today so I’ll be off-line for a good portion of the day, and we’re going to Costco this afternoon when Paul gets home from work. Today is the big laundry day, as it ever is, and between that and Costco–I may get some reading done; we’ll see. I may rewatch a Dolly Parton movie while doing my paperwork; I’ve been meaning to revisit The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas; why not this weekend?

What a week this was! I’m still a little frazzled from the one-two punch of Dolly and Tim Curry’s deaths–and the whole Callaway Golf/Good Good controversy (among others that broke this week, too) was completely insane. What was even more insane was watching the same men who got pissed that women will always choose the bear over a man, gaslighting women that the ad we all saw with our very own eyes, wasn’t “bad” or “just a joke.” (Hilarious how these asshole men kept doing this despite the apologies from both companies, the ad being pulled, and admitting they made a huge misogynistic error–but the “undescended testicles” brigade are still at this morning. Shock. The way some men will always circle the wagons to protect other men is why women choose the bear.) SO, I did do a bit of a deep dive on Garrett Clark, who issued the nine-minute non-apology yesterday. DId you know he was homeschooled, went to a private “Christian” school aka a segregation academy aka a Christian Nationalist school. Is it any wonder he thought shoving a woman to the ground and then getting in her face threatening her was funny? Apparently, his father told him to drop out of school because he was making so much as a content creator (it’s not like he was getting an education anyway), and you know, he was clearly raised and groomed to be a piece of shit pig man.

I also don’t think he learned anything from this, either–he’s just sorry his business is going down the toilet. Sporting goods stores and Costco pulled the merchandise, their reality show was canceled unaired, and both Callaway and the PGA severed ties with Clark’s stupid-stupid company. I guess he can put that excellent education to use now.

But in all honesty, the golf bro community will give him a chance to redeem himself–watch and see! There will be all these interviews about how hard it was to go through this, but he wasn’t that person and had to prove that to everyone (not anything about the lessons learned, if any are actually learned) to redeem himself, patting himself on the back all the time for how wonderful he is. And then he’ll say, with a very well rehearsed look on his face and a tear in his eyes, about how he is actually glad he fucked up, because learning made him a better person. The golf bros will all burst into tears and welcome him back with open arms and shoot loads in their pants while bashing “overly sensitive” women.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

But…women hold grudges, a quality I have always appreciated and try to emulate as much as possible. The North remembers, so does Pepperidge Farm, and so do women…and so do I.

Sigh.

But I am hoping for a lovely, peaceful weekend. Obviously, I have no control over the news or what’s going to potentially happen in the world, but hope springs eternal. I want to finish reading that book, get some writing work done (as always) and I need to send out another newsletter this weekend. The house is a mess, and today is, as I have already mentioned, a big laundry day, too. LSU’s football season begins a week from tomorrow, and I am starting to get a bit excited. I do love me some college football, after all, even when LSU isn’t doing well. Expectations are very high for a quick turnaround this season, but I am cautious and temper my hopes and prefer to wait and see how everything plays out. Last year, after LSU won the opener at Clemson, they were ranked in the Top 5, which was utter bullshit–as the rest of the season showed. (Polls–whether they are political or sports-related, are generally bullshit, which anyone who’s paid attention in the last ten years plus could tell you…which is why I am hopeful for the midterms, but not going to be surprised if it doesn’t go well. I’ve ceased giving my fellow citizens the benefit of the doubt anymore, and tend to expect either the worst, or the barest minimum, from them these days. Sigh.

And on that note, I am going to go get started on my chores before my meeting, and get going on the day job work, too. Have a lovely Friday, and I will be back tomorrow morning. Until then, ta-ta!

A nice looking young man, but why do so many underwear/swimsuit models all use the same size prosthetic bulge?

Act of Contrition

Thursday and it’s my last day in the office for the week, and I’m kind of glad to not have to get up tomorrow morning. This week hasn’t been terrible as far as being tired or sleepy or feeling worn out as I was–or has this been the case now for a while and I wasn’t paying attention? (That does tend to happen quite a bit.) It’s not sleepiness that causes me to hit the snooze button; it’s how comfortable and relaxed I am in the bed and under the pile of blankets that makes me not want to get up…and that’s every morning, not just the ones when I have to get up early.

Everyone is still reeling from the loss of Dolly Parton–who kept her cancer diagnosis private so “people wouldn’t worry” (so typical)–and it is very sad. I’ve been meaning to rewatch The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas for any number of reasons; maybe this weekend would be a good time? Maybe so; I saw it in the theater back when it was released and greatly enjoyed it, despite its many flaws. Naturally, there was some trash on-line who decided to be nasty about Dolly; there was one bitch in particular whose account eventually disappeared–her biggest reason for calling out Dolly’s mourners is because Dolly recorded a duet with Kid Rock and defended it. Oh my God, why wasn’t she burned at the stake? I believe that particular piece of shit may have either blocked me (I didn’t engage so not likely) or deleted her account. There was another one to that also trended for a while–a redheaded pile of dog shit I had already blocked. Anyone who is being shitty about Dolly Parton is a fucking piece of shit themselves. Dolly was the purest example of living Christianity we maybe ever had–so it wasn’t surprising that both the far right and the far left came for her. They really are the same people.

And now, Tim Curry, too? I’ve loved him since the first time I saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the performance was so fucking iconic that everyone who’s played the role since (sorry, Luke Evans) has just mimicked Curry’s performance and never quite equaled the master. He was usually the best part (or one of the best, at least; he did make a movie with Madeline Kahn, after all) of everything and anything he was in; his Cardinal Richelieu made the execrable remake of The Three Musketeers in the 1990s–and that’s a story I love, so for me to hate the film it had to be bad, right?–bearable. In fact, that was my entire opinion on the movie: Well, at least Tim Curry was in it. And yes, as I wrote about for my newsletter, seeing Rocky Horror when I was nineteen or twenty was eye-opening and mind-altering. He was just so out there and erotic and sensual and so not like anything I’d ever seen or imagined before (well, besides Liza in Cabaret)…Curry was a cultural touchstone for me, much as Dolly was.

What a shitty fucking week this has been, am I right?

Celebrity deaths generally don’t hit me very hard, with a few exceptions (Whitney Houston is one), but Dolly kind of left me off-balance, and the follow-up punch with Tim Curry while already reeling was very disconcerting. I ran an errand on the way home from work last night, and once I was home I just settled in for the night, mindlessly watching short documentaries about the Pacific War and thinking about the book. OH! A marvelous thunderstorm has just rolled in! It’s pouring rain outside! That will make driving to work fun this morning! (I actually don’t mind driving in the rain–safe and snug and dry inside the car while all hell breaks loose outside of it–but I do mind other drivers in the rain, who are absolutely terrifying here. You’d think it never rained here the way drivers here lose their minds driving in it.)

So, Janky Jeff is letting the Space Nazi build a “space port” here in Louisiana; on the Gulf Coast in Vermilion Parish…you know, on the wetlands1 that are at or below sea level–what we call a . What could possibly go wrong? A Category 3 storm surge will wipe it clean, if it doesn’t sink in the marsh first (concrete is heavy; which is why we can’t keep the roads up in New Orleans). But I am sure Janky Jeff and the Space Nazi did environmental impact studies in an endangered wetlands and…ha ha ha ha! NO they didn’t. I’d be surprised if they even did a feasibility study. This is going to help Louisiana continue to erode into the ocean and is going to destroy or wreak havoc on the ecosystem. I wonder how much Janky Jeff pocketed for this deal? Senate candidate Julia Letlow certainly has pocketed some.

Pecan Island Spaceport. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.

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

This picture captures the essence of how I viewed New Orleans when we first moved here–a decaying yet still beautiful place with wild overgrowth. I think this may be the house they used for the exteriors for Mayfair Witches, as opposed to the actual house at First and Chestnut which is the actual house from the books.
  1. Pecan Island, the site, is what we call a chênière, a sandy ridge with live oaks. ↩︎

Fever

Tuesday, and day two of my return to the spice mines. I was a bit groggy yesterday, and felt a bit tired in my legs for some reason, but it wasn’t anything, really. And I certainly had the energy to walk around the office pretty briskly while at work. We were busy in the morning–it’s been awhile–but it slowed down in the afternoon so I could get caught up on paperwork and so forth. We also had a marvelous thunderstorm system move through yesterday afternoon; on my way home it was still sprinkling, and it was wonderfully cool. I went to the post office and made a small grocery run and was home before six, which was also nice. Once I was home, of course, I had to feed Sparky and give him some attention before we put on the new episode of Furious (so damned good), followed by an episode of Outer Banks (so damned silly but strangely entertaining; so what if it doesn’t make sense?) before going to bed for the evening, where I slept very well. I feel pretty good this morning, too—if hungry; this morning’s coffee cake slice did not do the trick this morning; I should have eaten something last night but just didn’t feel up to messing around in the kitchen. Tonight I’ll bake potatoes, I think; I have some mushrooms I need to sauté in butter, too; Kerrygold works marvelously for this, by the way.

Sorry/not sorry about the cattle ranchers and farmers going bankrupt. Were all those liberal tears worth it? You voted for this not once but three times (excuse me, #not all ranchers). You wanted ICE, you wanted no regulations, you wanted a whites’ only country, and you kept what? Like four trans girls from competing in sports? You voted for all of this, you pathetic beta cuck bitches, and look! Here you are with your hands out for socialism. That’s practically communism! (Actually, the government controlling the means of production and market IS communism–so all that foul beef, that may or not be wild horse meat–for the record, you fucking idiots. But hey, wasn’t it fun calling Kamala Harris a whore who slept her way to the top? Is losing your cattle and your land worth screaming “Lock her up” about Hilary Rodham Clinton? You tell my community we were freaks and pedophiles and don’t deserve rights? Why the fuck would I give a shit about bailing your homophobic racists asses out with MY tax dollars. Like the student loan situation–didn’t you all oppose that? Aren’t you concerned about the national debt anymore? You scream at the top of your lungs about it whenever there’s a Democrat in the White House; why so silent when your votes are responsible now for it being so incredibly astronomically raised, higher than ever in history? Oh, no, you’ve got your palms up begging for relief from the taxpayers you gladly mock and vote against all the time? Like student loans, why should the taxpayers be on the hook for your poor choices? You don’t even have the balls to NAME him, like the submissive mongrels you are. No, you blame the government–you can’t even say anything critical of him personally. You’re fucking afraid of a pedophile.

Miss me with your low-T whining, you little bitches. Some MEN you are. Your ancestors would be ashamed and embarrassed, you entitled shits.

This was all in Project 2025, by the way. Everything that has happened since he was sworn in last year is straight out of Project 2025; you know, the thing they all lied to you about so you wouldn’t read it…but you were too busy “owning the libs.” Good job. Now someone else is going to own your land and you’ll be homeless and on the dole. Come on guys! Aren’t you the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps real men who don’t need anyone” types? Seriously, go fuck yourselves now and forever.

I was also highly amused to see that the Tate Brothers had to admit to a court that they are broke, they don’t own any of the properties or cars or jewelry they paraded around on-line to give unfuckable young men something to cling to since the world is “so unfair to them!” Whatever happened to “nobody ever said life was fair?” Has anyone checked on the incels today? What with Spider-man whomping on Jake Lang1 this weekend, the collapse of the Tate Brothers…can the collapse of the bros and the so-called man-o-sphere (cuck-o-sphere is more accurate) be far behind?

We started watching Lanterns this weekend, too, and I’m enjoying it. I do like both Kyle Chandler and Aaron Pierre (my God that man is beautiful), and I’ve always liked Green Lantern (I pretend that execrable film with Ryan Reynolds never happened). The show has a kind of slow burn feel to it, and I like that a lot.

I was pleased to see that Nicholas Hoult has bowed out of the TERF Queen’s tv show because of “scheduling conflicts”…I saw someone on-line said, “Yeah, the scheduling conflict was a phone call from an angry James Gunn asking him, why are you buttfucking my Superman sequel?” I, for one, was perfectly willing to never see anything he’s in again–I’ve been a big fan since Warm Bodies–but…he’s still kind of tarnished with homophobic slime, now. I don’t think I’ll ever be as big a fan of his again. His replacement can’t act anyway and mostly looks constipated–so no loss not watching him in anything again…which I’d pretty much decided after Pompeii already. Pompeii was exponentially worse than all of the Twilight movies combined. And I fucking despise Twilight with the white hot passion of a dozen burning suns.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am going straight home from work tonight, no stops, and hope to get the kitchen under control. I’ll be back tomorrow, of course. See you then!

I took this picture from the upper balcony at the Times-Picayune office on St. Charles; Paul and I were there for their Friday night before Mardi Gras parade party. I just love how it turned out.
  1. And why is someone with an ankle monitor able to travel so freely between states? Who is bankrolling him? Inquiring minds want to know. ↩︎

Bye Bye Baby

And it’s Monday morning again, and my brief little vacation is over. Ah, well, it didn’t kill me to get up this morning and it’s not going to kill me to go back into the office, either. We’re now on the final approach to September and Labor Day, and college football season begins. Woo-hoo!

Yesterday was kind of a lovely day. We ended up not going to Costco after all; Paul worked late Saturday on a grant so I let him sleep yesterday. It wasn’t the end of the world, and I did some chores and picking up around here before working on the book some more. We also watched some more of Outer Banks, which continues to be an insane ride; lots of fun but don’t expect it to make any sense. Netflix now has the Talamasca series from the Anne Rice universe; I didn’t know it had already aired last year. It’s not very long, only six episodes, but it should be fun…I hadn’t seen any talk of it anywhere so when I saw it last night, at first I thought it was new! Maybe the fact I’ve not heard anything about it means it wasn’t good? No, that’s not necessarily the case, either. Nothing to do but check it out, I suppose.

I had some things delivered yesterday so I wouldn’t have to go out of the house, and tonight I need to swing by the mail again. I haven’t gotten Dad’s birthday card yet, and he sent me gift cards inside the card, which is concerning. I don’t mind the loss, but it’ll bug Dad and I don’t want him to feel like he needs to replace them if they are lost. I also have some emails I need to get answered and some other things I need to take care of as well. I think I might create a special project for myself over Labor Day weekend, and that would be to clean out all my paper files. Many of them have no reason to exist anymore–the story or book has come to fruition and been published–and there’s also any number of other reasons the files need to be disposed of, and doing this will clear up some more space in the apartment. I think my goal for the rest of the year is to simply get rid of a bunch more stuff, and I do need to clean out the damned attic–but that can wait until it’s not so damned hot in there. I need to add things to the lengthy to-do list notebook, which I also need to start using more.

I do feel very rested and ready to go this morning, so I wonder how long that will last today? I feel like I’ve not been to the office in forever, but I already filled the gas tank this weekend, so I don’t have to do that this morning, either. Woo-hoo for careful planning! Wednesday is going to be pay-the-bills day again; seems like we just had that, didn’t we? Time passes so quickly when you really aren’t paying attention and just going about your daily routine, doesn’t it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a wonderful day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back post-haste tomorrow morning. Till then!

Deeper and Deeper

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and I feel terrific this morning. Sparky let me sleep late again, and the bed was very warm and comfortable. I ran an errand and made groceries–hardly anything for nearly a hundred dollars–and then settled into my chair. I read some more of the book I’m reading, which is haunting and interesting but not terribly engaging, worked on some newsletters, worked on the book for a little while, and even started writing a short story, inspired by, of all things, an actual Real Housewife. I also did some chores, so overall it was a good, if lazy, day. Today I need to have some things delivered, and we may make a Costco run. I have some writing to do and definitely have some chores that need doing that I’ve kept putting off since I’ve been home this long birthday weekend.

While I was reading Youtube was on autoplay, and a documentary about the movie version of Valley of the Dolls–one of my favorite camp classics of all time (“I’M NEELY O’HARA!!!”) and eminently quotable–which got me to thinking about Valley of the Dolls, which remains one of my favorite novels of all time, and when they mentioned the casting of Barbara Parkins–who was hot at the time from the television version of Peyton Place, which also put me in mind of Peyton Place (also one of my favorite books) and how interesting it was that I always thought of the two books (and their films) as connected. Both were hugely successful, both were dismissed as “dirty sex books” and “trash” , and both made their authors celebrities–and both books appealed greatly to women (and of course gay men), as did the films. I have long thought about writing about those great trashy novels of my youth; big trashy novels by Sidney Sheldon and Shirley Conran and Harold Robbins and Jackie Collins (oh! Hollywood Wives!) and Judith Krantz; I used to love long books–especially ones with revenge as the driving plot element (sighs, remembering The Other Side of Midnight)–and these were especially fun. I still remember many of them fondly, and it would also make for another interesting essay series about how these books actually influenced and impacted me as a reader and as a writer wannabe, and how they didn’t deserve the drubbing dismissal of the literary academy. So, I got down my copies of Peyton Place and Valley of the Dolls and looked through them, opening up to various places in the books and just reading.

Today I need to do some things I meant to do yesterday but never got around to doing–I need to reread and outline the first four chapters of the book, so I can remember character and place names, continuity, and tie up any loose ends I may have pulled out but left dangling.

I think we’re probably in another heat advisory today, and there’s no telling how hot it’s actually going to get out there. It wasn’t terrible when I ran my errands yesterday–or I’m getting used to the horror, one or the other–but it’s pretty bright and sunny out there this morning. This the best I’ve felt in the morning since my mini-vacation started, which is nice. I also think I am due to get a new pair of shoes, because my hip joints are getting achy again and that’s usually a sign. At least it’s just the hips, you know? I also need to order some things to be delivered, too–which I will try to get taken care of this morning so we’re free to leave for Costco at any time, if we so choose to go there today. We do kind of need to go–but in a worst case scenario I can also have that delivered as well.

And on that note, I am going to get going so I can organize and plan my day once I get these duties taken care of. Have a great day, wherever you are and whatever you do, Constant Reader, and I shall return in the morning tomorrow. Until then, hang loose.

The fountain at Audubon Park on a misty morning, by photographer David Freeman.

Love Song

Saturday morning and I have really lost the plot on what day it is. I kept thinking it was Saturday all day yesterday, which was annoying. And as much as I was wanting to have another day off yesterday (planning on working more today and tomorrow), I actually started writing my next chapter of the WIP, and even worked some on my newsletter drafts, which is becoming more and more fun the more I do of them. Obviously, we didn’t go see the movie because I was writing and had gotten settled into that “in my sweats and I’m in my chair working on my laptop” mode, and so I thought it was better to go ahead and do what work I could while doing my chores. I wound up writing about 1500 words on the new chapter, which was a pleasant and unexpected surprise. Whether they are any good or not is another story, but I am taking the win. I also stayed up later than usual, doing the laundry, and Sparky tried to get me up early again but settled in for cuddles when I didn’t get up.

I watched some more documentaries about the Pacific War again yesterday, which is technically research for the book–since my main character served in the South Pacific during the war. It also occurred to me yesterday that I should watch South Pacific again–I watched it when I was a kid, and never revisited, but thought it might be interesting from a sociological and research point of view; how did they depict sailors with no access to women? It’s been so long I don’t remember much of the movie, or the book either for that matter (Tales of the South Pacific was my entry point for James A. Michener’s work) so one of these weekend mornings when I don’t have much else to do along the lines of reading or chores I could put it on. I liked musicals a lot when I was a kid–I remember seeing The Sound of Music and Camelot on the big screen–but kind of got away from them as a teenager and the post-teen years…the fact that not many were made might have had a lot to do with it. Anyway, it couldn’t hurt, right? And if I can consider something as a kind of sideways research, it doesn’t feel like I’m just wasting my time…see, what you saw right there is an anxiety coping mechanism: I’d feel guilty and anxious for not being productive, so I needed a rationale for it that made sense to my brain.

And while we didn’t go see the movie yesterday after all–and probably won’t this weekend either–we are going to Costco tomorrow.

I watched more of The Burbs yesterday, and when Paul came down from his work-at-home duties, we caught up on both The Shards and Reacher. This most recent episode of The Shards was probably one of the best ones so far, but it’s still Ryan Murphy so there’s kind of a glitzy veneer over it all and character motivations don’t seem to be important (they never are to Murphy)…and almost all of the characters are unlikable, because I at least never feel any sympathy for any of them–and kind of enjoy their failures…I am not sure that’s the primary intent here, but that’s my reaction to it. It’s addicting, though, like so many things are that are nothing more than empty calories, like cotton candy or soda.

I was actually kind of glad we didn’t go to the movie yesterday because around the time we would have left, some amazing thunderstorms rolled into the metro area. The band of bad weather lasted for about six or seven hours, too–with street flooding uptown and there was also HAIL uptown, big chunks of ice hurtling down from the sky. We didn’t have any here at the Lost Apartment, thank the Lord, and it sure would have sucked to bring Costco home during a thunderstorm. Yikes.

Some rather interesting news broke yesterday regarding the Karmelo Anthony case, and a better picture of what happened that day is starting to emerge. When I first heard the news, my first thought was “self-defense” and my second was “they are going to roast and railroad this kid” and I was right about that, too. (Just like when Nolan Wells went missing and my reaction was “he’s dead and those white kids did something, they may not have killed him but they certainly didn’t act like innocent people who didn’t know anything” and as more facts come out…)

Because inevitably it will always turn out to be some kind of bullshit white shenanigans. And that kid Karmelo Anthony killed sounds to me like he was already well on his way to becoming a full-fledged sociopath. We need to stop treating white kids with kid gloves. Hell, we need to stop centering white people, period.

And on that somber note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will check in on you again tomorrow morning, okay? Til then!

I’ve never understood the “must shave body and be smooth at all times” mentality. Body hair can be sexy, tooand very masculine.

Everybody

And somehow Saturday has rolled around yet again here in the Lost Apartment. Yesterday was nice; I had my meeting in the morning after sleeping a little late. I did my work at home duty and the laundry and other chores, ordered some groceries, and relaxed some. It was very nice, actually. I relaxed and cleaned and thought about my writing and what to do next with it. Paul went to the gym after he got home from work, and when he got back, we watched The Shards and Reacher–not realizing two episodes of each had dropped, so we have those to get back to along with more Furious. Paul will be out this afternoon, so I have some down time that I am not certain how to use just yet. I also slept later, finally giving in to Sparky’s entreaties and coming down to give him his breakfast, have my own small starter snack with my coffee, and figure out the rest of my day. I feel very relaxed, rested, and good this morning, which is wonderful. I have some chores to do this morning, so once I post this and also send out my newsletter (I finished revising and rewriting it yesterday evening), I’m going to get cleaned up and read for a bit.

I also have to have some things delivered, so I can make dinner today and tomorrow. We’re once again in a heat advisory (shocking, right?), so I am going to want to spend as little time as possible outdoors. And yes, it’s more evidence of the annual selective amnesia New Orleanians have about the heat and humidity in the summer; somehow we’re surprised every year with how hot it gets here. It always amuses me, and I catch myself doing it all the time.

The Saints’ pre-season games start tonight; Jacksonville comes to town. I’ve never understood the point to the pre-season, and no one’s ever been able to explain why it’s necessary to have one to me. Paul and I went to one at the Superdome before the pandemic, but it wasn’t very exciting, there weren’t many people there, and it’s hard to get vested in a game that doesn’t mean anything. But the season will be beginning for college and the pros soon, and I’m looking forward to both the Saints and LSU this year. LSU has a brutal schedule this year, and has a new coach and a new system. So, we’ll have a better idea of who they are going to be this year after the opener with Clemson in Tiger Stadium. I’ll probably rewatch some classic old LSU games–well, have them on in the background while I either read or write or clean–to start getting amped up for the season. I love college football!

I started watching The Burbs, which I am also enjoying; I love Keke Palmer and am enjoying the show so far. (Paul watched it while I was in Alabama last time, so I watch when I have some down time to relax and don’t feel like doomscrolling through Youtube news clips.) I watched the first episode the other night when Paul was late coming home, and I started the second yesterday.

Sorry to be so brief this morning, but don’t really have a lot to say or talk about this morning. This was my first Friday at home without having to deal with something–employee development day, the car, meeting, etc.–and so this is actually my first regular weekend in a while. I am going to put the dishes away and then reload the dishwasher, and then I am going to take my book and read for a little while. I feel terrific this morning, which is a lovely, lovely departure and I intend to enjoy the day no matter how it turns out.

So, on this note I will depart for the spice mines, and hope that you have the loveliest of Saturdays, Constant Reader, and I will be back with a full report in tomorrow morning.

I love New Orleans in the rain.

Papa Don’t Preach

…I’m in trouble deep! Oh, Madonna–another hit song, another controversy. Love her or hate her, I think everyone can agree we’ll never see another artist/star like her. She literally changed the world in so many ways–and IMAGINE how conservatives got upset over a young woman who owned and flaunted her own sexuality…those videos are all so tame now, and even then the haters missed the point of most of them. (Google the controversy about her “Like a Prayer” video, and then actually watch the video. It’s about racism and doing the right thing.)

So here we are on Friday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well. Sparky has been fed and is now curled up under my desk. I slept very well and a little bit later this morning, and feel pretty well rested from a good night’s sleep. I have a meeting on-line in a few hours, some work to get done, and lots of chores to do. I also need to do some reading and writing, and order some things to be delivered. I am going to try not to leave the house this weekend, if at all possible. I want to finish a newsletter and get it sent out tomorrow morning, too. I did wind up getting a bit tired in the afternoon, and had errands to run after work. Traffic heading uptown was absolutely horrible, but with proper a/c in the car it wasn’t terrible. I picked up the mail, a prescription, and a few things at the grocery store–I cut it back because we were in a heat advisory and I didn’t want to have to deal with getting the wagon and so forth, figuring I’d just pay to have it delivered today or tomorrow. What can I say? I’m old and there was a heat advisory called that lasts until tonight at eight, I think. YIKES!

I’ve been listening to Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks records in the car, and I finally decided to make a Rumours playlist, my own mix of the record’s line-up. I’ve always thought it was wrong that “Silver Spring” wasn’t included on that album, and I knew exactly where it belonged: between “Go Your Own Way” and “The Chain,’ replacing “Songbird,” which I replaced “Oh Daddy” with, and added “Fireflies” after “Gold Dust Woman.” This playlist is perfect, frankly. That is exactly where “Silver Spring” belongs, and the three songs all play into each other, like they’re finally in the right order. I also realized that “Songbird” wound up where it is because it was the final song on Side One of the record. and it was a nice mellow way of getting you up to flip the record over. I can’t believe it took me this long to make said playlist, and despite almost fifty years of listening to it in its original order, I don’t expect to hear “Songbird” when “Go Your Own Way” fades out.

The lovely thing about my weekends now is that I have so much free time on them now that I don’t feel like I work very hard on them now, but manage to get things done. It feels like I am being lazy, honestly, but then I am like, but look at what you got done! I’m still adjusting to the last twenty years or so of being insanely busy. It’s kind of nice when your to-do notebook doesn’t have a lot of things in it to do, isn’t it? I am going to make a list just for today–it’s so satisfying to cross things off, it pleases me to no end–so I can make sure to stay on track. I also have a short work week coming up; I’ve taken Thursday and Friday off for my birthday next week. Huzzah!

As for this weekend, I am going to try to get stuff done while relaxing. We’ll see how that goes, but I do want to get Chapters 1-4 checked for continuity issues, the files updated, and work on an strong outline of the first four and get some character work as well. I may work on some short stories, and I may get going on some organization of thoughts for the next Scotty, which will be called New Orleans Nemesis. (I’ve always loved the word nemesis, and I am excited to be using it as a title.) I have some amorphous thoughts rolling around in my head–thoughts that include the pirate Dominique Youx, the German Coast slave rebellion, a prized jewel from the past, the murder of one of Scotty’s ex-friends, and Scotty’s past haunting him yet again.

And the Saints are back for the preseason tomorrow! GEAUX SAINTS! I cannot believe it is almost football season…and on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and going on my day. Have a delightful Friday, Constant Reader, and I will be in the morning. See you then!

Sexy underground wrestler Zack Ramos