Category: editing

I’ll Think of Something

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, and a very nice day was had here in the Lost Apartment. I worked and ran my errands and cleaned and had a rather nice, productive day. It was also a pretty day to run errands, despite the hordes of tourists on foot in the Garden District who somehow think it’s a pedestrian mall and will literally step out into the street without looking.1 Heavy heaving sigh. I will also never understand tour buses that want to make the left turn off Prytania onto Washington (by the cemetery); Washington is a very narrow two-lane street with cars parked on both sides. Probably heading to Commander’s Palace, but a bus will block the entire street. Ah, the trials and tribulations of driving in uptown New Orleans!

But I got up at a pretty decent hour (this morning as well) yesterday so I could get things done in the morning before I had to venture out into the errands. I was most pleased with what I was able to get done in the morning–the apartment still needs to have the floors cleaned, but at least it’s not nearly as horrifying around here as it was on Thursday night when I got home from work. This morning I am going to do the floors and the weekend’s dishes, so I can head into the work week with a sparking and shining home. I made major progress on a project, and hope to get it finished today. I also did some mental writing of my own on the Scotty book–I am not sure why I always struggle and then remember oh yeah, the plots are supposed to be over-the-top and ridiculous, the more ridiculous the better. So I would really like to get back to work on it, so I need to get this other project finished. When I get this finished I am going to read for a bit before I get cleaned up and get back to work.

I read manage to read some more of Winter Counts, and it’s really exceptionally well written. I am having a good time reading it, and seeing how the standard hard-boiled noir style can be interpreted and developed in an entirely new way and perspective is pretty awesome, too. (Seriously, people: broaden your minds and read diverse books.) I also spent some time with White Too Long, which thus far isn’t really telling me anything new–it opens with an explanation of how the Southern Baptists came into being in the first place, and how it has evolved from those racist roots (without losing the white supremacy) ever since. That may help me with the essay I am writing about religion and why I am so antipathetic to it; unpacking my miseducation on both it and American exceptionalism has been very revelatory–and it also makes me more than a little angry. This is what happens when you confront the truth about this country’s actual history, rather than the American mythology my childhood education groomed me into believing–which is why I guess people are so afraid of the truth and what their children might think of them? You cannot be both a good person and a racist at the same time; because if you harbor bigotry and racism inside of your personality it will spill over into other aspects of your life, and color your decisions and your votes and how you conduct yourself as you navigate through the world.

Paul was at the office for most of the day, and he got home rather late. I bought one of those Costco ready for the oven fresh pizzas Friday, and made it for dinner last night. It was quite good–what isn’t good from Costco, really–but when he got home, he had a tale to tell. As he was leaving his office from the rear of the building he was stopped by firemen (they were hot and young) and he eventually spoke to both the fire chief and the chief of police. Apparently, his building started to collapse while he was at his office. He didn’t even know anything had happened! Ah, New Orleans is always going to New Orleans. Never a dull moment in this city, is there? We’re almost to the anniversary of the Hard Rock Hotel collapse, too.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and read for a while before I get to work for the day. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later on, if Sparky will allow it.

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  1. In fact, this made me think about Chanse’s computer guy, Jephtha, and his video game, “Tourist Season.” ↩︎

Sweet Magnolia Blossom

Work at home Friday and was Mercury in retrograde yesterday? Is it still? My work laptop died yesterday morning when I tried signing into it after I got to work and it took most of the morning for me to get a new replacement one. So, I spent the morning without a computer–which meant outside of seeing my clients, I didn’t really have the ability to do much of anything. I finally got the new one around lunch time, but my day was already off and so was my energy, and since my routine had been disrupted, I had trouble getting back on track. Finally, I just made a list while I was eating lunch and that seemed to work, even though I still felt off all day. The replacement laptop (which is just temporary until they fix the old one) also had some issues with staying connected to my scanner, which was incredibly frustrating and resulted in my admin work taking far longer than it usually does, and I had a lot of documents to scan into patient files. The frustration was real, and I was exhausted when I got home. My brain was basically non-functional by the time I got home, and I actually fell sound asleep in my easy chair around nine-thirty. I didn’t get anything done once I was home–worn out from the endless frustration of the day–and didn’t even remember to charge my phone when I went to bed. I did manage to watch Real Housewives of Salt Lake City (which is lit this season and definitely my favorite of these shows at the moment), though, since that required little to no energy on my part. I hope to get a lot done today, both day job and Gregalicious wise; and we’re going to Costco later after I am done with work duties. (Need to make a list!)

But I slept very well last night, and woke up feeling pretty rested this morning, which is a good thing. The entire place is a disaster area, and I never managed to do anything about the dishes accumulating in the sink and now it’s of course out of control. Heavy heaving sigh. Even my desk is piled high with things that need to be put away. It feels chilly, and per the weather the high will only reach sixty degrees here today. I think I am going to walk to the gym tomorrow morning and get started back up with that again, and hopefully today will be a great clean and organize day for the house. Christmas is coming, and I am really not feeling it very much this year, to be honest, and haven’t for a few years. Paul and I decided to not do gifts again this year–we are divorcing ourselves from the capitalist holiday by refusing to spend much money observing it (we’re going to go see Babygirl in the theater on Christmas day), and I have to say I am gradually growing more radical and anti-capitalist by the day (so much for that you get conservative as you get older bullshit; I grew up as a conservative and my adult hood has been mostly about shedding that foul and utterly inhuman methodology. Profits over people, corporations are people but living breathing humans are not–I could go on and on talking about the class war in this country. I am a radicalized Paw Paw, I guess? I did have a client this week whose birth year was 2006–which was highly traumatizing, and would have been worse if I cared about being old. It was more of a shock to me that kids born after Katrina are eighteen (and older) now. Kids born the year of Katrina will be twenty next year. Twenty years, a third of my life, has passed since that time.

I am also looking forward to some good reading time. Both of my current reads (Winter Counts and White Too Long) are fascinating and well-written, and it’s quite easy to get caught up in the narrative. I’d love to finish both this weekend so I can move on to my next reads (leaning towards Alter Ego by Alex Segura or Missing White Woman by Kellye Garrett and The Exvangelicals for my non-fiction). I do want to get caught up on Donna Andrews’ two latest over the holidays, which are rapidly approaching. Soon it will be 2025 and even more insane chaos once the new “administration” is sworn in. The next four years are going to be bad, I think–signs point to yes–but I also survived the 80s and the 90s, so maybe I am a Cher/cockroach.

We started watching Black Doves the other night, and I really enjoyed the first episode. I love Ben Whishaw, and Sara Lancashire is a treasure. I am hoping we’ll be able to spend some more time with it over the course of the weekend. We also should go back to Slow Horses, which we never went back to for some reason; I think we got interrupted by something (a surgery? A funeral? Who knows?) and just never went back to it. I do also want to read the books by Mick Herron (got to love that last name), too. Ah yes, so many books to read. Heavy sigh. I have so many treasures in my TBR pile, as well as treasures from the distant past (I would love to read Anatomy of a Murder and A Summer Place and Summer of ’42 again, plus more of Margaret Millar, Daphne du Maurier, Charlotte Armstrong, and Dorothy B. Hughes) that I will probably never get through them all.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I hope that I have a really productive one. I’ll be back either in the morning or later today, it’s a mystery!

Gorgeous retired Olympic and world champion ice dancer Guillaume Cizeron, who also is a model.

Bonaparte’s Retreat

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I was very tired when I got home from work yesterday–mid-week fatigue, most likely–but I slept super well and feel pretty good this morning. The temperature started dropping again last night–I checked and it was only 62 degrees inside last night–so I turned the heat on downstairs before heading to bed, and it’s nice and warm down here this morning. I don’t know how tired I am going to be later on, of course, but we’ve an easy clinical schedule today and I should be able to get caught up on all my Admin stuff today before I leave the office and come home. I am almost finished with a project, hopefully by Saturday it will be done and I can get back to my book work. No football for sure this weekend, so I have no excuse not to clean and write and go to the gym as we move into the New Orleans Holiday Season–which doesn’t end until after Carnival. Woo-hoo!

The last time I was visiting my father (or maybe the time before) he told me about a movie (it probably was the time before last, when I watched westerns with him) starring John Wayne that was set in Alabama and was about Bonapartists exiled from France who wound up settling in the western part of the state, which is how the small city (or town) of DEMOPOLIS was founded. (The movie was The Fighting Kentuckian.) Honestly, Alabama’s history is so rich and varied! I could write a million books set in Alabama–and that’s not even talking about places like Moundville, near Tuscaloosa. But there has to be some way I can tie Scotty and New Orleans into the Bama Bonapartists, you know? One of Napoleon’s nephews, Prince Achille Murat, lived at Magnolia Mound near Baton Rouge (I think the location is either on the LSU campus, or very close to it) for awhile in the early nineteenth century. Lots of Bonaparte connections down here, and after all, the Napoleon House is called that because after Waterloo, it was offered to Napoleon for his next exile–needless to say, the British weren’t having that. (There are Baltimore Bonapartes, too.) I came across a mention of the Murats of Magnolia Mound yesterday, and that made me remember about the movie and the Bama Bonapartists.

I also started reading White Too Long, and I am glad I have it. It’s essentially the story of how white supremacy and Christianity became linked through racism before the Civil War, and how those “southern” versions of particular Christian brands worked hand-in-hand with the Klan and other racists ever since. I think the Southern Baptists are the only ones left that didn’t merge back in with their Northern counterparts after the war, and the Southern Baptists have been responsible for a lot of bigotry and unconstitutional prejudiced laws and so forth ever since. The Southern Baptists were the queer community’s biggest enemy for decades, and have poisoned southern culture for generations. (They were also the very first organization to target Disney for being slightly more gay-friendly than anywhere else and announced the first boycott over it; it failed miserably.) It’s going to be an interesting read; I always find religion fascinating–especially how a benign message of caring for others and helping the poor and sick can get twisted so easily into a method of mind control for nefarious reasons. I still want to explore that more in a book, too, and I am going to finish that goddamned essay about my own personal experiences with religion and the Christian god.

Maybe try finishing the writing you’re already doing, Greg, before starting anything new–and yes, that absolutely includes doing research. Make notes of where to find said research and do not go ahead and start doing it–save it for when you’re ready to write it.

And if you never have the time to write it, then was there any need to waste any time researching it? Alas, I do have a curious mind, which can also be very one track at times.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later. One never knows.

I Care

How is it only Wednesday? It feels like it should be at least Friday by now, doesn’t it?This has been the longest week, seriously. It’s cold again this morning–in the forties–and the rain has stopped. The bipolarity of winter in New Orleans is something I don’t think I’ll ever get used to, no matter how long I live here. I don’t feel tired this morning, but the cold does make me want to get back in bed again and burrow beneath the covers. I was all kinds of warm and comfortable under my blankets this morning when the alarm went off, and by the second beep Sparky was up, trying to get my attention to get up and feed him. I don’t feel worn out, but I don’t think I’ll make it through the afternoon without my energy flagging. Ah, well.

I even left work early yesterday for my podiatrist appointment, and the good news is the toe has healed perfectly and he was most pleased with not only how quickly it healed but how properly as well. His absolute delight when he looked at was very clear. (Apparently, I am some kind of medical marvel of healing; Paul heals pretty fast, too–how many people are discharged the same day they get a hip replaced?) But that’s a good thing, and there was some callus where he’d cut the nail and the scab had been, so he got rid of that with an exacto knife (it didn’t hurt at all) and then I was done and walking out to head home. I wasn’t even super-tired when I got home, but I worked for a while and that wore me out enough to finally put it all aside and relax for the rest of the evening. I hate that I am not catching up as quickly as I would like to, but that’s life, you know?

I also keep forgetting the Super Bowl is here in February, which will make getting around the city so much easier. Yay. And of course, there’s a massive facelift (or at least temporary patchwork) being done to New Orleans to get ready for it, so you never know what detours lie in your future.

I also watched Matt Baume’s documentary about Lance Loud, the gay son of the first reality TV show, An American Family, from the early 1970s on PBS. we didn’t watch it, but everyone was talking about it, and I remember hearing about the gay oldest son, and how the marriage ended in a divorce. I think my parents thought being filmed for a television show was exploitative and kind of gross? My mother certainly wasn’t one to get into reality shows–she even stopped watching soaps about twenty years ago. I was never really sure why, but Dad has told me over and over again about how deeply conservative she was (trust me, I knew but it still came as a surprise–I always thought it was Dad and she was just trying to make him happy. Ah, the things we are led to believe as children but never really give much thought to…Dad became more conservative because she was so conservative), so I have to assume the soap thing (I used to watch them with her when I was still in school) might have had something to do with that? I know my sister stopped watching them because they encouraged you to root for adulterers. My grandmother also used to watch them when I was a kid (I actually think she was the one who got me and my sister started on Dark Shadows), but also stopped. Anyway, it was an interesting documentary, and I learned a lot more about Lance Loud than I’d ever really known before, other than he was the gay son on that show.

The tale of Robin Hoody keeps getting more and more interesting the more information that comes out about him, and I keep being more and more amused at the way the country has almost completely united (see what I did there?) behind him. That really should tell everyone about the mood of the country, shouldn’t it? I keep being amused at how the story is being reported, and how much resources the NYPD expended on searching for this person while no one is even talking about the immigrant stabbed to death by racists on the same day in the same city, and certainly the NYPD isn’t making that a top priority. I’d love to see the price tag for justice for a health insurance executive, and why the NYPD and the media made this into such an insane priority. Yes, by all means, do tell me about how everyone is equal in the eyes of the law! And of course, the more information that comes out about both shooter and victim, the more noble the shooter sounds and the more awful the victim was. The media was certainly unprepared for the way people reacted, and the fact that the media so completely misread the mood of the country makes you wonder, again, just how shitty they are at their jobs; and the right-wing grifters attempt to frame this as a right-left issue blew up their faces…as some angry Americans slowly began to realize the media they consume manipulates them to make money, and people saw it as more of a class war kind of thing that apparently everyone has just been waiting for to happen.

And that’s what has the elites and their puppet media terrified. They cannot allow the country’s division to heal and anyone who is not an elite must be persuaded to fight a culture war when the real problem is and has always been the class war the billionaires have been waging against everyone else since Ronald Reagan was sworn into office in 1981. I also think a lot of the angry people are recognizing that they voted in the rule of an oligarchy and are not very happy about that, either. For the record, I don’t have any sympathy for those who voted for this and now have regrets. Too little, too late, too bad, so sad. You voted to make people suffer, and sadly, you’re also one of those. I can’t even begin to tell you how horrible those people were before the election, and how they absolutely refused to listen to anything anyone had to say.

And the newspaper coverage and most editorial commentary has shown how deeply out of touch they actually are from everyday citizens, and how they prop up the elites at every possible turn. Imagine if the media hadn’t gotten sucked into the cult of Trump in the 1980s and started turning him into a celebrity for no good reason. Seeing them trying to lead ‘the resistance’ after doing everything they could to reelect him (so much for that “liberal media bias,” right, Richard Nixon?) is not only craven, but disgusting and people are starting to see very clearly what our “news media” actually has become: completely incompetent and not good at their jobs. The news shouldn’t be a for-profit business, just like health care should not be.

And on that note, I am bundling up and heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and here’s hoping the rest of this week flies by.

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Get On My Love Train

Monday morning and back to the office blog! I feel awake, but kind of not completely yet, if that makes sense? It does in my fevered brain, at any rate. I didn’t get as much done this weekend as I wanted to, but I did get some things done. I did some actual writing yesterday, and I did get some work done on something else I’m working on. Not a great weekend for productivity, but I feel like I can face the office this morning. That’s a plus, right? It’s always good to start off the week feeling refreshed and rested both physically and mentally, right? So I am not sorry the weekend was wasted, because it really wasn’t. Likewise, the writing isn’t very good, but at least I did some, you know? It was excruciating getting a thousand words down, but I did, and while it didn’t alleviate my mind about getting back in the writing saddle, it’s something.

Paul wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so last night we started watching the new Prime show Cruel Intentions last night, and it’s better than I was expecting. I am a big fan of the original story (the book was Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos; obviously filmed as Dangerous Liaisons with Glenn Close and John Malkovich), so was curious how this adaptation would work. The remake of the story as Cruel Intentions, with Sarah Michelle Gellar and Ryan Philippe, set at an exclusive elite school for the rich, was quite excellent–so I was curious about the new version, which updates the story yet again, this time to an exclusive college’s Greek system. I love this story, and did an homage to it in one of my erotic novels–which I wish I could get a do-over on, to be honest. I may need to reread the book again at some point, too. I love my conniving nasty French nobles, you know?

One thing I’ve not remarked on yet–mainly because I keep forgetting every morning–is to mention the shockingly excellent news that four queer writers were included on Sarah Weinman’s Best Crime Novels of 2024 in the New York Times! Three of them–John Copenhaver (Hall of Mirrors), Margot Douaihy (Blessed Water), and Robyn Gigl (Nothing But the Truth) are friends; the other, Katrina Carrasco (Rough Trade) is someone I don’t know but have been aware of for quite some time. I actually blurbed Blessed Water, which is exceptional. I do want to revisit it in order to write about it, and I have yet to get to John’s book–and I am very behind on Robyn’s series. But how wonderful is this? Not just one, but four queer authors on an important Best of column in the paper of record (which I still haven’t forgiven for its crimes of the last decade at least)? When I was first starting in this business, we didn’t even dare to dream of that kind of outcome for our books; and Sarah is so smart and knowledgeable about crime fiction and the genre–she absolutely knows what she’s talking about. I always enjoy talking to her, and this is so awesome for the queer authors; it’s the first sign from the Times that queer work is just as valid as other crime fiction! So, thank you, Sarah!

And it’s nice to see some diversity of thought in that vile paper for a change.1

So, I am hoping to get this work done so I can get back to writing. I owe some short stories I need to get underway, I need to get back to work on Scotty, and I am also writing this other thing, too. I’m starting to feel like I’m lazy, more than anything else, and finding excuses not to work anymore. This shall not stand.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. May you have a Monday as lovely as you are, Constant Reader, and one never knows–I may be back later.

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  1. And no, this doesn’t mean I’ll resubscribe. I will never forgive them for their role in undermining democracy and the rule of law. ↩︎

I’m Not Through Loving You Yet

Sunday morning here in the Lost Apartment, and how are you doing , Constant Reader? I feel good this morning, actually; a good night’s sleep and a rest day always seem to have this effect on me. I guess the new reality for me is being worn out by the end of the work week and needing a brain-dead day of rest. I feel good this morning and my coffee is hitting the spot this morning. Yay! I hope this means a productive day around the house. I have work to do that I do need to get done, after all.

I was tired yesterday, both mentally and physically. I managed to get the errands run; made groceries at two different stores (!), dropped a box of books off at the library sale, and picked up my copy of Alter Ego by Alex Segura, which I am very excited about. I loved Secret Identity, and there’s no reason to think Alter Ego won’t be better; reviewers are loving it all over the country, and I’m probably going to move it up on the TBR list to the on-deck position behind my current read. So many good books! Which is, as always, a delightful problem to have. Whee! I am very excited about this. I am going to get back into reading fiction, now that I’ve finished The Demon of Unrest–my. new non-fiction read is probably not going to be as smoothly flowing a narrative (White Too Long). I have so many great fiction reads to get to! A plethora of riches to be sure. I am going to work today on some things, and I am going to work on the house some, too. It always seems to be a mess for some reason which is beyond me, but go figure, right?

We watched some of the Grand Prix of Figure Skating finals, which saw US skaters win gold medals in three disciplines–men’s, women’s, ice dance–which I don’t think has ever happened before? This bodes well for the World Championships in March, and it’s been awhile since anyone could say that, really.

I also wound up watching some football games idly, while I read short stories for a contest I am judging. I guess if you were pulling for either team, the games were exciting; Georgia beat Texas in overtime; Clemson needed a desperation field goal in the closing seconds to beat SMU; and even Penn State-Oregon was dramatic. Now on to the bowls and play-offs, which is going to seem very weird. I’m not really sure how I feel about this entirely new, semi-pro look college football is going for, and how it really has always been about greed. Which is a shame–but it always was a farce when it came to all that “amateur athlete” bullshit anyway. Players always got paid, and colleges always looked for ways to justify it or cover it up or exploit loopholes in the rules. It was also interesting seeing SMU in the ACC title game, too–SMU was the only school under the old rules to ever get the death penalty for too much cheating, and it killed the program for decades…so the NCAA became reluctant to use it again. (Ironically, the next college that would have–should have–gotten the death penalty was ALABAMA in the 90’s–and they weren’t ever going to do anything to Alabama that might kill that program.)

When I took the box of books to the library sale yesterday, they asked me if there were any mass-market paperbacks in the box because they aren’t taking those now. They’ve told me that before–and I’ve had to take books out of the boxes before. I still put some in there, just to see if they’ll say no to them, and if they don’t, it does get them out of the house. When did mass-market paperbacks become so anathema to American readers? I loved them when I was younger; they used to be as cheap as seventy-five cents when I was a kid, and I remember their prices gradually increasing until it was silly to not pay the dollar or so mor to get it in trade paperback, which were usually sturdier and more solid editions. Now it’s more along the lines of “the print isn’t big enough” for me, and I suppose ebooks have replaced the mass market editions. I always wanted to write something with my name on the spine in mass market, but never succeeded in getting there–and now they are being phased out completely. That’s a shame.

I was thinking about mass market paperbacks because I was moving books around in the laundry room and came across two editions that are two important books to my younger self; two that I’ve always wanted to revisit as companion pieces to each other: The Lords of Discipline by Pat Conroy, and Dress Gray by Lucien Truscott IV. The former is set at Carolina Military Institute in South Carolina (aka The Citadel), the latter at West Point. I read Dress Gray first, living in Kansas and picked it up at the grocery store, I think. It was a murder mystery set at the military academy, and the victim was a closeted gay cadet. I remember really loving the book, and I don’t remember why I picked up The Lords of Discipline, other than I know we’d already moved to California before I read it. I think I’d watched The Great Santini and wanted to read the book, but the Waldenbooks at the mall only had Lords in stock, so I got it instead, and became a huge Pat Conroy fan. I do want to revisit both books; I’ve been wanting to write a crime novel set at an Alabama military high school–that all-male environment I’ve always found so interesting–but that won’t happen for awhile, at least.

The manhunt for the man who killed the UnitedHealthcare CEO continues, and with every new bit of information released he becomes even more of a folk-hero. Some have started calling him the Adjuster, which is funny, but I saw someone call him Robin Hoody yesterday and that, I think, is my absolute favorite thus far. He’s almost taking on a Batman-like lore amongst the American people; few things this century have united the country as much as approval of this murder has. That says something about the mood of the country, and if I were a politician or a corporate executive whose business model is fucking over the working class, I’d be pretty fucking nervous right now. There’s a bit of a sense of 1789 Paris and 1917 St. Petersburg in the air, and now that corporations and the uber-rich have been screwing us all over for decades with no relief anywhere in sight–if anything, a sense they are going to make it worse for all of us–and no, it wouldn’t surprise me if revolts started up, or more murders of the exploitive class.

It doesn’t hurt if the uber-rich begin to understand that it’s actually not in their own best interest to fuck around with the working class, either.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; stranger things have happened.

Tell Her No

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Door

Work-at-home, with meetings on the computer Friday, and woo-hoo, we made it almost all the way through another week. Christmas is nigh–Lord–but the end of the year always seems to come in a rush, doesn’t it? I mean, college football’s regular season is already over (although, given how LSU did this year, it seemed to last a really long time), and basketball started up again last month. It’s also almost collegiate gymnastics time, too. The SEC will be really interesting with perennial power Oklahoma added to the conference this year. The Grand Prix of Figure Skating final is this weekend, so we’ll probably spend some time with that, too. I think I want to watch whatever that new Alien1 movie is, too. I’ve not seen all the movies, but Alien and Aliens remain favorites of mine, so I am always interested whenever they release a new one. The shoddy state of my memory, however, has made reading or watching series (movies, television, books) a tad more challenging.2 But I shall persevere.

It is cold this morning; right now it’s thirty-eight degrees outside. I slept really well last night, so it was most likely pretty cold last night, too. I was exhausted when I left work early yesterday, and so when I got home, my brain wasn’t functional enough to even read, let alone do anything more creative or enjoyable. I am probably not going to leave the house today other than run to get the mail and to get something to make for dinner tonight (no clues on that score, so will have to figure something out). Paul’s going to be gone for most of the day once he gets up. I’m going to try to get my chores done while working (I can go do laundry when taking breaks from data entry and on-line trainings) today, before I dash out to run those two errands and then come home to edit and write and read and clean. Sounds like a good plan. I am hopeful to get some things done while also getting some good rest.

So, the CEO of the absolute worst health insurance company in the country, United Healthcare, was assassinated on the street in New York the other day, which led to some interesting reactions. Some–the vast majority–people celebrated his death; his shitty insurance company successfully denied 32% of claims last year. I’ve never had the pleasure of being covered through that insurer, but working in a clinic and talking to clients about their health insurance–I get to see (and hear) firsthand how bad their coverage is. Some have astronomical deductibles; still others can’t get their (expensive) PrEP labs3 covered by it4, etc. When I saw the news break, I was only surprised that it’s taken this long for an health insurance “profit above people” company executive to be murdered. A few people on social media (you know the ones–the tireless morally superior assholes who love to try to shame everyone else for their very valid feelings) were very quick to excoriate people for celebrating the murder of an asshole who was definitely the last rung on the ladder of responsibility for a lot of people’s pain, financial ruin, and death, wagging a finger in everyone’s face and letting them know that they are the horrible people in this instance. I block tiresome scolds. You’re not my mom, you’re not my priest, you’re not my employer and you’re a total stranger. Maybe you’re lovely in your every day life, but pulling moral superiority in this case? Will you scold people for being happy when odious garbage like Kim Davis or Mitch McConnell die, too? Go fuck yourself, and get the fuck out of my world. As for their mourning loved ones, why is their pain more valid than that of United Healthcare’s victims? They certainly didn’t mourn or feel bad when United’s cruel profit policies killed, ruined, or bankrupted their clients, did they? No, they spent that money and lived high on that ten million dollars a year (plus bonuses) salary, so miss me with their pain, okay?

And in other, predictable news about the murder, apparently they have images of the killer’s face from security cameras, and people swooned and thought he was handsome and hot. Just like the Boston Marathon bomber and Ted Bundy and so many other “hot” criminals. It’s weird. He is handsome, at least the guy whose face was shared from those images–which also made me think he’s a professional assassin; I mean, who else could flirt with someone on their way to killing someone else? Although it does make for an interesting idea–the hot sexy hit man. Maybe a gay one? (See how my mind is?) Anyway, the assassin is kind of becoming a folk hero, which should give all insurance executives pause. In the wake of the murder, Blue Cross Blue Shield–which has just announced a horrific, draconian new policy about anesthesia, quickly reversed itself and removed all the executive and board of directors’ names on its website.

Read the fucking room. The people are not happy. It’s astonishing how these company monsters don’t realize how hated and despised they are…or at least, didn’t. They do now.

It also occurred to me last week–and not just me; someone posted on social media about it yesterday, which made me think about it again–that what we are actually lurching toward is Ayn Rand’s capitalist heaven of no government regulation, no taxes, and completely unfettered capitalism; the billionaires taking the place of her ridiculous notion of “the men of the mind” who, by virtue of their ambition, intelligence, creativity, and drive5, deserve to be in charge of everything because being good to their employees and their customers is “in their best interest.” Hmm, how has that been working out in the last few decades, Ayn? Atlas Shrugged was such complete and total bullshit, as was everything she wrote and the philosophy she embraced, the virtue of selfishness. I was interested in her because I read Anthem in high school, and it reminded me of another, similar type book (I can’t recall the name of it); that interested me enough to read the other novels and her essay collections. I was intrigued, as so many young white men are, by this interesting way of looking at the world–but at the same time, I also quickly saw right through it as utter and total bullshit; what she described as selfishness was actually self-interest, which are not the same things. I’ve long wanted to write about Ayn Rand and her damaging theories, and how the Right embraced her (except for her atheistic hatred of religion), which is part of the reason why we are where we are now as a country. in thrall to billionaires who don’t care a fig for the rest of us. I also wanted to do a compare/contrast essay about Atlas Shrugged and another conservative author’s railroad book, Taylor Caldwell’s Never Victorious, Never Defeated–which came from the completely opposite direction of Rand’s tome…but writing about Rand means rereading her, and shudder, who has time for that?6

Seriously, I don’t need to write about it that badly. Once was enough. Although what I really want to do is totally deconstruct and destroy her essay about literary arts (like anyone who’s ever read any of her work would think she had the right to theorize anything about art). She has a collection of essays about art called The Romantic Manifesto, which, like everything she wrote, is overwritten, pretentious, and more than a little condescending–not to mention completely wrong about everything. That actually might be fun–I do remember how in the essay about literature she raved about Mickey Spillane…if that tells you anything.

And on that note, I have to get ready for my first meeting. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later.

  1. Alien Romulus, to be exact. ↩︎
  2. As well as editing, as I mentioned yesterday. ↩︎
  3. Since the ACA requires insurance companies to cover PrEP, this is their way around the rule–the labs are incredibly expensive. So, they will cover the medication but not the labs required for the prescription to be written. Never forget, health insurance is the biggest legal scam in American history. Almost like flood/hurricane insurance: “oh, sorry, that damage was caused by a hurricane” which then becomes “Oh, sorry, that was caused by a flood, not a hurricane.” ↩︎
  4. This is nothing more than anecdotal information; I’m just always surprised that my shitty insurance is actually one of the better ones, which is frightening. And inevitably, whenever I ask my clients who their shitty insurer is, it tends to be United–which was one of the options my day job considered for this year. ↩︎
  5. Amongst all the insanities and idiocies in her pseudo-philosophy, her definition of “men of the mind” are people who built companies and wealth by creating a product that revolutionized whatever industry–people like Henry Ford (blech), Andrew Carnegie, etc. Since she worshipped money, I imagine she’d be on board the Musk/billionaire worship train–but they aren’t really “creators” and “men of the mind” as she saw it. Her brains had myopia, alas. ↩︎
  6. A very dear friend of mine once said of Ayn Rand, “Her writing was the least of her crimes.” Succinct and to the point.
    ↩︎

Once You’ve Had the Best

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

There are worse problems to have, really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Midnight, Me and the Blues

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

Heavy sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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