Dangerous Type

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, and i am dealing with a hyperactive cat that wants to play so keeps leaping on me, claws out. I feel good and rested this morning, no fatigue, and so I am hopeful for a productive day. Paul will be gone most of the afternoon for a board retreat, so I am hoping to be able to get some things done.

I love my new vacuum cleaner, period. I’ve never had much luck with them; the last two or three I bought never worked that great to begin with and then stopped picking up anything entirely after only about six months of use. So, since the last one–and yes, I tried fixing them–stopped working, I’ve had to sweep the rugs and shake them outside, and they never ever felt truly clean. Well, I put the new one together yesterday and used it in the living room. I am very pleased. It looks so clean in there now…I am going to use it in the kitchen this morning so long as Sparky doesn’t make me bleed out before I can. His claws are SHARP. So I did some great cleaning and organizing yesterday, and will hopefully finish the downstairs today.

I can’t seem to find my phone this morning, either. There are worse things.

Yesterday morning I ran my errands, and then came home to work on the house while playing highlights of LSU football from past years on Youtube (I also sometimes watch when I am in a dark mood; the highlights are my happy place). I tried to read for a bit as well without much success, but that was from being mentally scattered as I tried to work on the house, too, listening to the highlights in the background, and occasionally sitting down to rest and watch for a moment, as I still had some physical fatigue working on me yesterday. But it was so nice to come downstairs this morning to a living room with a clean floor. It’s amazing how much of a difference that makes–just like how much cleaner it looks inside when the windows are clean. It’s too hot for me to clean the windows for at least another four weeks, but I am really looking forward to it.

In a little bit I am going to go read The Hunting Wives for a little while before getting cleaned up and buckling down for a good day of cleaning and writing and reading. I also want to work on an essay on El Dorado Drive by Megan Abbott for my newsletter–if you’re wondering, I’ve decided my book/television show/movie reviews belong on my newsletter. So, if that’s why you pop by here, and have been wondering why it seems like I’m not writing those anymore, I am–just in a different place.

I also want to start rereading Hurricane Season Hustle, since I am going to be getting back to work on it relatively soon. I have so much writing to do!

And on that note, I am going to go read for a bit and thus bring this to a close. Hope you have a happy and lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and will be back in the morning tomorrow.

I love Venice, and would love to go back.

Shoo Be Doo

Thursday morning, and I am awake with my mind alert for a change–but my body is still fatigued. Hopefully getting to sleep a little later tomorrow will make a difference in the degree of fatigue I’ve been experiencing this week. This is actually the worst it’s been after an infusion, so hallelujah that this was the last one! I’ve not been able to get much of anything done around here after work–I fell asleep just after eight again in my chair, only to go up to bed around nine thirty. I did sleep well, but probably needed to stay in bed a few more hours, methinks.

We were also busy in the clinic yesterday, which didn’t help the fatigue, but I made it through the day unscathed. I did get a lot done there, too. I think we’re busy again today, but the morning is pretty slow and easy, so I can get caught up on my paperwork. I think tonight after work I’ll come straight home. I skipped the grocery store last night, but picked up the mail and my prescriptions, so that was a plus. I’ll probably have some groceries delivered over the weekend, as I am out of some things. I also don’t think I am imagining how much prices have gone up lately. Wasn’t that yet another broken campaign promise? I mean, I thought inflation was all Biden’s fault, wasn’t it? Here’s hoping we’ll have a robust mid-term election next year…although I suspect we’re never going to have another one. I would be delighted to be proven wrong, for the record, but nothing the Fascists do anymore surprises me. What surprises me is when they do something decent without an ulterior motive…and I am still waiting to be surprised.

Despite the mental fatigue I was experiencing when I got home last night, I did manage to park myself in my chair and catch on the news. Christ on the cross, what the fuck is wrong with this country (rhetorical)? I heartily enjoyed reports on Gavin Newsom’s tweets yesterday, and the utter insanity of Laura Loomer’s deposition in her defamation suit against Bill Maher. Future generations will (hopefully) look back at this time and ask, in all seriousness, what the fuck was wrong with everyone? Which leads me around to an essay I am writing about Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, and how that history has always been distorted to blacken Anne’s reputation as well as who she was; imagine if the only reports for future historians about you were your absolute worst enemies…even those who admired her were too afraid to say anything positive about her after her fall. I also saw somewhere on-line recently a comparison between Henry VIII and our own unspeakably vile president.

This is why studying history is, in my opinion, so vitally important–but it’s equally important to keep an open mind as well. Context also matters.

I probably should have been a historian. The problem, though, was all of it interests me; I don’t know that I would have been able to decide on a particular period to focus on. The smart thing for me to have done would have been to double major in history and creative writing, with a minor in either French or German. Although I probably would have focused on the sixteenth century, which has always fascinated me…French would have been the wiser course because it was the diplomatic language of that period, so a lot of the source material would have been in French.

Is it just me, or has there been a lot of flooding all over the country this year? I haven’t paid as much attention to it all as perhaps I should have, but at least I’ve made note of it. The Guadalupe River floods in Texas were kind of hard to escape, as everyone seemed to be covering that story. But it seems like every day, or at least every other day, whenever I log into my browser I see pictures of devastating flooding somewhere in the US. Flooding is so awful and it’s never fun to lose your car and/or your home and most of your belongings.

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

The Temple of Abu Simbel, statues of Ramses II

Double Life

Man, yesterday was rough.

I do not know what was up with that final infusion, but I was very fatigued physically yesterday, and while my mind was alert, it was incredibly foggy. I managed to get through my work day, but in the late afternoon I began to wonder. I was exhausted when I got home (I did stop and make some groceries) and was asleep before Paul got home around nine. I was too tired to do much of anything last night other than watch videos on Youtube. I am physically exhausted this morning already; making today into a definite challenge. We’re not as busy as we were yesterday, so we’ll see how I am doing at the end of the day. Today is also Pay-the-Bills Day, which I’ll try to get taken care of at some point today–and probably during my lunch break.

I really just want to go back to bed.

My birthday is a week from today, but I think I’m not going to take the day off and will just go in; I have to take some time off at the end of the month and I’m supposed to go to the panhandle for a week in October, so I need to be hoarding my vacation time as much as I can until I have a week of it, and right now I am sort of skating the line as to whether I will have enough time accrued for the trip. Heavy heaving sigh. I need to figure all this shit out, don’t I? Heavier heaving sigh. But I don’t want to. Which is always how my tendency to laziness resurfaces and I revert to the spoiled little boy I was (still am) and pout, “I don’t want to.”

I am looking forward to reading The Hunting Wives, but was too fatigued last night to really do anything productive. I hate that for me, really. I did remember to turn the dishwasher on, though, so at least everything in it is clean. I’ll unload it tonight when I get home, and do another load…unless the fatigue is completely out of control by then. My preference would be to run uptown to get the mail, pick up some prescriptions that are ready, and swing by the pet store to get Sparky some treats. I just have to make it through today and tomorrow, because I work at home on Fridays and thus don’t have to be at work before eight am.

I see that Kim Davis has gotten some attention again for trying to get the Supreme Court to overturn marriage equality. She looks exactly the same as she did all those years ago when she put her religion ahead of her job (“render unto Caesar” and all that) despite her multiple divorces, bastard children, and adultery; and clearly has not removed the mote from her own eye. Of course, Christian apologists will claim that she repented and found God so is forgiven her earlier sins, yet that forgiveness certainly didn’t engender any love, compassion, or empathy in her stony heart, so I’d say her “repentance and forgiveness” is clearly on shaky ground; frankly, if people like her have a golden ticket to Heaven isn’t exactly the kind of ringing endorsement that will get people to start going back to church, is it?

She also still dresses like she only shops at the Little House on the Prairie collection for K-Mart, and that hideous hair and eyebrows. She doesn’t really have much standing to get a personal appeal heard by SCOTUS…but this court cannot be trusted. They do not respect precedent, they issue contradictory rulings based on their morning prayers, and are a disgrace to both the country and the legal profession. But what can you expect from cosplay Christians, who are just in it for the judging and superiority, with no basis in Jesus or his actual ministry. That is the kind of shit that drives me insane–and droves of others from the church.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. See you tomorrow morning, and have a lovely rest of your day.

It’s All I Can Do

Tuesday and all is well in the Lost Apartment. It was, indeed, lovely having yesterday off. I had my last infusion yesterday, and yes, I was fatigued when I got home. I swung by the Apple Store while I was out in Metairie, and came home to finish reading Megan Abbott’s brilliant El Dorado Drive (more on that later). Last night, we tried to find something to watch but just weren’t in the mood for anything we found that looked likely for us; we actually started watching two things that I’d forgotten we’d already watched! I decided to read the room and went to bed early. I didn’t want to get up this morning, either. I am feeling fatigued this morning–physically, not mentally–which will certainly make today a challenge. The coffee is going down well and that’s always a good thing. It looks pleasant outside the windows this morning–but it’s probably like soup out there.

El Dorado Drive was classic Megan Abbott–noir to the core, and about the complicated, complex relationships between women. This time, the women are sisters, all born within the space of four years or so, who grew up wealthy and privileged…until the auto industry cratered and they are having to deal with, well, not being rich anymore and not really knowing how to handle the poverty. All of the sisters owe money–the eldest’s husband is dying of cancer; middle sister Pamela is going through a horrible divorce; and youngest sister, Harper (who also is a lesbian) is barely scraping by…so of course, they are the right audience for a get-rich-quick scheme that is simply too good to be true (isn’t everything easy?). I loved this book, and couldn’t put it down yesterday. I read it through my entire infusion, and then picked it up once I was safely home to finish. I will do a more in-depth review for the newsletter, methinks.

I also decided to move on to The Hunting Wives next, leapfrogging it up to the top of my TBR stack because I want to read while my memory of the show is still fairly fresh in my head. I bet there’s not as much sapphic activity in the book as there was on the show, but I am very hopeful the book isn’t terribly different from the show? I will report back, of course, once I have the answer. I also started my reread of Shirley Jackson’s Life Among the Savages and The Secret of the Red Scarf. I did a load of dishes but forgot to turn on the dishwasher. Must remember to turn it on before leaving for the office.

Tonight I am going to stop and make a small bag of groceries on the way home from work. I don’t need much, just coffeecake, cat treats, and Tylenol PM. I also need to balance my checkbook and pay some bills. Pay-the-Bills Day is tomorrow, but some are due today that I’ve not paid yet. Must do that today, as well as update my checkbook. There were a lot of Barbara Michaels and Elizabeth Peters ebooks on sale the other day, and I downloaded all of them (I need to stop buying ebooks on sale…).

I also need to do some writing tonight after work.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll most likely check in again in the morning.

Let’s Go

I like the nightlife, baby!

The Cars’ Candy-O album, for the record, also holds up forty years later.

It’s the Monday of my last infusion, which means I need to get ready and drive out to the farthest extreme of Metairie this morning; I’m not really sure where Metairie ends and Kenner begins in all honesty. I’m going to take my book with me to read for the two hours I am in the chair attached to an IV. Woo-hoo! But this is, as I said, the last one, and I’m kind of glad about that, in all honesty. I am sick of IVs, if I am being completely honest. Everyone at the infusion center is lovely, of course, but…

Sunday was a lovely day around here. I grilled yesterday, and we watched the rest of Wednesday, which is a lot of fun (although I keep thinking of the show as a continuation of the movies from the 90s, which it’s not) and I love that my favorite Wednesday, Christina Ricci, is in the cast. Now they just need to write a part for Joan Cusack! We also started Chief of War with Jason Momoa, which is beautiful–looks like it was filmed on location in Hawaii, although I didn’t know that they have kudzu in Hawaii; I don’t recall ever seeing any when I was there, but apparently they do. Also turns out most of the show was shot in New Zealand, not Hawaii, which is interesting. I also read more deeply into El Dorado Drive, which I am loving (and can’t wait to get back into at the infusion center), and I also worked on my own writing for a while yesterday. I am looking forward to working on it more after the infusion, too. I think I am finally getting back into the swing and rhythms of my own life again at long last–but let’s not hold our breaths, shall we?

There’s a tropical system looking to develop into something major out near to Cabo Verde Islands, but will most likely turn north in the Atlantic (so they are saying) and not come ashore in the US. The season is definitely starting to get amped up, unfortunately. I was thinking more about the Katrina aftermath and writing something for the newsletter about the twenty year remembrance; and I am glad I watched that documentary series last week about the disaster. I think I am ready to talk about it again. I also was thinking about my essay on religion that I want to finally finish for my newsletter–this was from finishing season two of Shiny Happy People–and also recognizing, at last, that I can also write them in parts–which is also something I can do with other essays.

Sometimes I wonder about myself, you know? The reason I even thought about this in the first place was because I was thinking yesterday about writing a serialized novel for my newsletters, which then became duh, you can do this with the essays as well so they aren’t so long. I still am up in the air about the newsletter and what I should use it for…but I also want to be careful about freezing it into something clearly defined because then I get into the old “that’s not what this is for” when the truth is it can be whatever I want it to be and any rules for it are set by ME, which means I am also not bound by any such rule. What am I going to do, punish myself by grounding me from writing it for a while? Posh, what ignorance!

Heavy heaving sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I may be back later after the infusion–one never can be entirely sure with me–but if not, tomorrow morning for sure. Have a lovely Monday!

Don’t Cha Stop

It was supposed to rain this morning, but the sun is shining and the sky is bright blue. I slept well again last night until Sparky got me up this morning, wanting his breakfast. (He is such a sweet boy.) I had a lovely day yesterday, actually. I ran my errands in the morning, ordered groceries to be delivered last evening, and had a pretty nice day overall. I finished rereading my Jay Bennett and Barbara Michaels novels1, and hope to finish reading the Megan Abbott today. I also watched a lot of television while doing chores and reading before falling asleep in my chair last night after a nice, relaxing day. Here’s to having another today, right?

Netflix has a new show about the 2024 SEC football season called Any Given Saturday, and so I watched about four episodes of that while Paul slept on the couch. It’s very well done, and while I don’t feel it pays enough attention to LSU–and what there is focuses on games they lost (really? No coverage of the amazing upset of Top Ten-ranked Mississippi?)–it is nice to see the stories on the other teams and get a recap of the season. The show, of course, is hype for the upcoming season; the pro pre-season is already under way. I think LSU can be really good this year, but LSU always manages to find a way to LSU. There are only two episodes of the show left–we switched it off to watch Wednesday, which we also didn’t finish last night–that I may have on in the background this morning while I read.

I think I am going to go ahead and spend some time with the news and my coffee this morning before finishing this. I’ll be back momentarily, Constant Reader. (According to the weather, we should be having a thunderstorm in five minutes, which I don’t think is going to happen, given how it currently looks out there.)

It’s now noon, and it never rained here. It does look like the calm before a storm outside my windows at the moment, but I’ve already closed up my wagon and put it away (I’d left it out last night after the delivery) just in case. I got cleaned up–even shaving–and that woke me up and made me feel being productive for a while. I put Any Given Saturday back on to stream, getting through the last two episodes while reading more of El Dorado Drive and marveling at what a fucking MASTER Megan Abbott is; she may be the best writer publishing today, and is definitely in the top tier without question. I also picked out my next reads: the reread will be Life Among the Savages by Shirley Jackson2 and the juvenile/young adult will be The Secret of the Red Scarf, which belongs to a close-to-forgotten girls’ series featuring Nancy Drew rip-off Kay Tracey, and I won’t decide on the new new-to-me read until I finish the Abbott–I’m currently torn between Mia Manansala’s latest or Disco Witches of Fire Island or Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages; all queer authors, I might add.

But The Hunting Wives might win the race in a photo-finish.

As I finished off Any Given Saturday, I found myself very curious about the lack of coverage for Texas, Georgia, Oklahoma, and Auburn, among others…and LSU and Alabama were only covered in reference to their games with South Carolina and Vanderbilt, period. Was it about getting some of these lesser-known programs more coverage? And it’s definitely difficult to cover 16 teams with any degree of depth and certainly every team had a story to tell this past year. But it definitely whetted my appetite for the return of college football, which was its intent, so mission accomplished, Netflix.

I’d forgotten we’d watched Towards Zero in between the SEC show and Wednesday; I’d seen bad reviews of it so was curious as to what we would think of it. I remembered the story as soon as I saw the geography of the setting, which is crucial to the crime, and yes, I was proven correct in the third episode. It was fine, if perhaps not really needing a third episode? It did feel like it was dragged out more than it needed to be, which is not a good sign for a murder mystery.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I need to do some picking up and organizing and cleaning, and I am also going to write for a while before probably returning to the Abbott. I doubt I will be back later; I may finish a newsletter today and I may not. If not, I will be here again in the morning before the infusion. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader!

  1. I will write newsletters about both authors at some point. ↩︎
  2. I’ve always wanted to write about this unique Jackson book; I usually reread The Haunting of Hill House every October. ↩︎

My Best Friend’s Girlfriend

I’ve always thought today’s title, an old classic by the Cars, would make for a great y/a title. What if a gay teenager was in love with his straight best friend (it happens), only to have the best friend get a girlfriend the gay kid suspects is evil, as in occult evil? No one believes him because they think it’s jealousy…this story always springs to mind whenever I hear the song.

And that first album by the Cars is still a jam, almost forty years (!!!!) after release.

Saturday morning here in the Lost Apartment, and Sparky let me stay in bed later than usual, which was lovely. I am slurping down my first cup of coffee and have already had my coffee cake, probably moving on to cereal in a moment. I do feel good and rested this morning. I took it easy after work yesterday, simply sitting in my easy chair and morphing into a cat bed for a worn out purring kitty. I finished watching Hurricane Katrina: Race Against Time, which I really appreciated. I did get a little teary when listening to the experiences of the people who couldn’t leave and the clusterfuck of the response to the catastrophic levee failure (which failure was lain entirely at the door of the US Army Corps of Engineers, where it belonged), and the response was entirely a systemic failure. It also went after the media reporting, which was wrong and caused problems for the efforts to rescue people and get them out. I did remember how angry the reporting by the legacy media made me (fuck Fox News and their racism now, then, and forever) because I had a flash of anger again at the incompetence. I’m glad I watched, but I will never stop mourning the New Orleans that was before, or the people we lost. I also decided to go ahead and write a twenty years later essay for the newsletter. Last night as I watched, I was trying to remember what I actually did write about Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath (besides the blog): my novel Murder in the Rue Chartres; my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” and a shorter, edited down version called “I’m Still Dancing”; and the short stories “Annunciation Shotgun” and “Survivor’s Guilt.” I think part of the reason I wrote so little about Katrina and the rebuilding was because I didn’t want to be defined as a writer by the storm.

But I think there is another essay about Katrina inside of me that I need to write. I may start writing it this weekend, but we shall see.

I do have to go pick up some prescriptions and some groceries while I am out, and I am going to potentially order some more to be delivered this afternoon. I also made good progress on chores yesterday; I did all the bed clothes, and a load of dishes that needs to be put away, and I also cleaned off my kitchen counters. I also picked some things up around here, too. I want to write and read today, too–once I finish this I will go to my chair and read for a bit before I go run those errands and get them out of the way so I don’t have to leave the house tomorrow. Monday is my last infusion and I took the day off so I can come home and rest and read some more. Huzzah? Huzzah! I think we’re probably going to move on to watching Wednesday’s second season tonight, too.

I do feel good this morning–the cereal was an excellent choice, but now I need toast–and so I am hopeful I’ll be able to get some things done today. So, I probably should put some bread in the toaster and bring this effort to a close for the day by heading into the spice mines for the rest of the morning. Have a lovely and terrific Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later today or again tomorrow morning.

Adorable out gay Olympic gold medalist in diving Tom Daley of the UK

You’re All I’ve Got Tonight

Thursday! Interestingly enough, after being so pleased yesterday morning and bragging about not having had insomnia in a long time was a mistake. I woke up around three this morning and never went back to sleep–if I did, it wasn’t very deep and I was waking up every ten minutes or so. This means I will hit a wall today, and probably earlier than I have been lately. I wanted to run errands on the way home from work tonight, but it’s not looking good. If I am worn out, I won’t want to drive uptown and should probably just come straight home. I need a few things from the grocery, but I might just have them delivered instead.

Unspeakable Sins continues to enthrall. Our primary villain was murdered in last night’s episode, and everyone in the main cast is a suspect (the episode was very “Who Shot JR?” in its staging and writing and very well done) and we’re on to the last three episodes of the season, which we should finish off tonight.

Well, I didn’t finish or post this yesterday. I am not sure why that happened, but I started doing some other things before getting ready for work and when I got home last night, I was surprised to see I’d never finished or posted this. I was right about yesterday–I was very tired when I got off work, but decided to do some of the errands on the way home. I picked up the mail, picked up three books I’d ordered (the new Donna Andrews, the new Scott Carson, and The Hunting Wives), but forgot to pick up prescriptions, which means I have to go back uptown today–which I’d hoped to avoid. I was extremely tired when I got home, and started watching a new National Geographic documentary about Katrina. I decided to bite the bullet and see how watching it went; if it was a trigger, I would stop watching. I didn’t finish the first episode, because Paul came home and we watched the new South Park1 and laughed our asses off before watching the final three episodes of Unspeakable Sins, which was excellent–and wrapped up everything, but also left us with a final shot that could be the set up for a second season should it be renewed.

Watching the documentary wasn’t triggering at all–at least not what I’d seen by the time Paul got home–and so I am going to finish watching it this weekend. I think twenty years was enough time for the PTSD to finally end (I am also taking anti-anxiety medication, which could help with this). We were able to watch Five Days at Memorial, which was a reenactment of what happened at that hospital with an emotional remove; maybe because it wasn’t actual documentary footage but a reenactment with Hollywood stars, I don’t know. Paul and I did watch it for a bit before I put on South Park, and we were remembering our own evacuation all those years ago without any sadness or emotion; it was nostalgia–I can smile about it now, I suppose, but we were so terrified on I-10 East and worried we wouldn’t get out in time. I also remember it started raining as we were on the twin spans to Slidell over the lake. Sigh. I was thinking I might post my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” to my newsletter, but it is over twenty thousand words long.

Or I could write another one., from my current perspective. We’ll see.

I’m not making big plans to get a lot done this weekend, as that never seems to work out for me and that always starts a guilt spiral. Who needs that in their life? Certainly not me! I have a meeting at ten and some day job duties to get done today. I have Monday off as well; it’s my final infusion and I couldn’t get my usual nine a.m. appointment so I could go to work after; this time they only had eleven a.m., which is smack dab in the middle of the day so I decided to use some sick time and just come home after I am done. I can also pick up lunch while I’m out in Metairie. I’m going to try to be a homebody this weekend, because I know the infusion is going to fatigue me. I may just read the rest of that day and rest.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later!

The Avenue of the Sphinxes connecting the temples at Luxor and Karnak, Egypt
  1. I have thoughts and concerns about this season, which is brilliant. ↩︎

Moving in Stereo

Good morning, Constant Reader! Hope you sprang forth from your bed wide awake and a-rarin’ to go, because today is Wednesday! We’ve made it to the halfway point again this week! Huzzah! Although this week hasn’t been terrible, other than being tired when I get home from work every day. I feel oddly more awake and alert this morning; not sure what that is about, but I am not going to argue with it, either. I’ll ride this wave as long as it lasts before petering out at shore.

It rained off and on for most of the day and it was gloomy a lot yesterday. I am never really sure what’s going on with the weather when I am at work; my testing room doesn’t have a window, and I don’t get near the windows on the floor very often. But a couple of clients were wet from the rain when they came in, and the few times I was around the front desk I could see the rain. It was nice when I made groceries after work, but it started sprinkling when I got home and it rained for most of the night. I got very tired yesterday afternoon, just as I was getting ready to head home. (I did cancel one errand I was going to run because I was tired, but was very proud of myself for making groceries.) I also did some writing work when I got home, too. Yay for me! I’ve not really experienced the page opening and me falling into it yet1. I haven’t had that experience in quite a while; which I think is what has been fueling the Imposter Syndrome2 of the last few years. But I am slowly doing more and more, and my creativity, despite being covered in dust and cobwebs, is getting better, too.

I slept well again last night–trust me, I do not miss insomnia–and could happily go back to bed this morning. It looks like a sunny morning out there, and the forecast shows no rain for the day.

Then again, yesterday’s forecast said no rain until the evening, too. They’re inevitably always wrong here in the tropical season.

I do think being tired affects my ability to write, because now when I’m tired physically, I also am tired emotionally and mentally.

Being Tuesday, I made tacos for dinner last night when I got home and in spite of being tired, I managed to do the dishes before making dinner. Paul came downstairs, and I queued up Unspeakable Sins, which continues to be a rollercoaster ride (spoiler: the only decent character in the show is the escort; everyone else is kind of awful but so fun to watch) and we’re over halfway finished. There were two more kidnappings and now everyone knows the faked death was actually faked and Claudio is still alive–and last night we did find out who was behind everything going on. I kind of suspected that character already, and they just became a lot more interesting! One thing I have noticed about this show–I noticed it right away–is how they’ve embraced the physical beauty of Andres Baida and how much the camera sexualizes him in a way usually reserved for women3. He is shirtless in every episode at least once, and we generally see his bare ass every episode too–and how the camera lingers on his body is the way it usually does on women. His introduction to the viewers was him rising from a swimming pool in tight little square cuts, slowly revealing his muscular form as it rose, shining and wet and dripping, out of the water. Last night there was an episode where he was being tortured for information by a ruthless gangster. His wrists were chained together, his shirt was gone, and his arms were straight overhead, the chain holding him up. He looked like he was being lifted right out of his low-rise pants which were barely hanging on, his face and torso covered in oil and sweat and some blood, and it looked almost like a scene from a gay bondage porn film.

And tonight Wednesday drops. Huzzah!

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

I always thought Michael Newman was hotter than David Hasselhoff on BAYWATCH.
  1. Callback/shout out to Misery by Stephen King. ↩︎
  2. Whom we are no longer listening to under any circumstances. ↩︎
  3. Make no mistake, I am on board with the sexualization of men in film and television. ↩︎

All Mixed Up

There are three “disturbances” out in the Atlantic with the potential to develop into tropical systems. None are a threat to the Gulf Coast (at least, not yet), but we are heading into the time where hurricane season is super-busy. This year is also the twenty-year anniversary of Katrina, so I’ll be avoiding all the coverage of that for the most part. Even after twenty years, it’s still hard for me to watch any of that stuff–but maybe this year I should break the power of the PTSD and watch it all. It was such a horrible time, truly…but we did watch that show about Memorial Hospital (Baptist). But twenty years on, maybe it is time to watch some of the coverage that I pointedly ignore every year. I dunno, we’ll see.

Yesterday I felt a little under the weather–stomach again–which had me concerned that I was having a reoccurrence of the colitis, but this morning I feel fine, even well rested for a change. I managed to get a lot done at work yesterday, which was great, and I made groceries on my way home. I was tired when I got home, but I wrote for a very little while before Sparky’s need for attention wore me down and I went to my chair. We watched some more Unspeakable Sins, which is such an amazing rollercoaster ride. More has happened in the seven or eight episodes we’ve watched than happened in an entire season of Melrose Place. Nobody does soapy thrillers quite like the Spanish language production companies. So far, we’ve had a failed blackmail seduction, two kidnappings, one faked death, and several criminal syndicates–and of course, lots of videos of wealthy and prominent people at sex parties. We also have a teenager whose stepfather got him addicted to drugs and abused him.

That is seriously one fucked up family.

We’re finally out of the heat advisories, and the maximum temperature for today is 89…which is low for August but I’ll gladly take it. Rain (gasp) is also in the forecast. The rain is predicted for late this afternoon, around when I’ll be coming home, actually, so no errands tonight for sure. I didn’t want to get up this morning, but…that’s really nothing new on a work day, is it? This is a slow week in the clinic (next week is busy busy busy), which is nice, since we’re having a site visit tomorrow. I think I have everything done that I need to have done for the visit, which was the entire goal for yesterday.

I am feeling good about most everything and am not being critical of myself for not pushing myself harder, you know? I’m also kind of still adjusting to life again, which seems to take longer to do the older I get, and seems more necessary as well more often. This has not been a great decade for me, and I can definitely state that my sixties haven’t been the best so far (I’ve pretty much forgotten the fifties, in all honesty). But the inexorable passing of time continues, as the sand in my hourglass continues to run, and my instincts are telling me to make the most of my time, so…sure, I get the I don’t want to’s still, and of course, the temptation of recharging with Sparky in my lap is always there, but I know I can get the work done when I put my nose to the grindstone.

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