Category: essays

Lucky Star

Saturday morning and my car is away for the weekend. They are not only doing the body work needed but they are also going to replace the damaged hose and refill the coolant or whatever it is. Freon? Maybe, I don’t know, but it won’t be ready until Monday morning. So I’ll have to take a Lyft to the office Monday morning and pick up the car later in the day. It’s going to cost more than I had hoped but far less than I’d feared. But I am without a vehicle and I am fine with it. I mean, can you imagine having to evacuate without air conditioning? C’est insupportable!

Yesterday was lovely, actually. I did my work and the chores, hung out with Sparky, watched the news (we’re all doomed aren’t we?) because I was a few days behind while I worked, and got most of the chores done. Today I can have some things delivered, and there’s only a few chores left to do this weekend so I can spend it reading and writing, which is marvelous. I should probably get a newsletter out this weekend–I can do one about the book of soap opera essays I finished reading this past week. I also spent some time watching history documentaries–French history is ever so much more interesting than English, really; the curse of the Templars1 and the Tour de Nesle scandal alone makes it better–and read a few chapters of Italian history (this came from the curse of the Templars, whose story actually begins with the French king’s refusal to buckle under to the Pope. (I read a marvelous series of historical novels when I was a teenager called The Cursed Kings, by a French writer named Maurice Druon, about this period–which read more like Game of Thrones than the Wars of the Roses ever did.)

I’m not sure how I am going to spend today–probably reading and relaxing, with the possibility of doing some writing on the horizon. I slept in, and very deeply. Paul has his trainer today and then does cardio, so I’ll be here alone for most of the afternoon with Sparky, who will of course want to sleep in my lap the way he always does when it’s just us. (He was curled up in bed with me this morning while he waited for me to get up for his breakfast.) Cats really are wondrous creatures, aren’t they?

The weather has cooled down some–like turning the oven from 400 down to 375–but of course, we’re so beaten down by the heat by August that low nineties to mid eighties seems almost like fall. (I almost walked home from the body shop yesterday morning, but decided not to risk it. I was sweating at SEVEN THIRTY in the morning standing in the shade waiting for my driver!) I do need to order things for delivery, too, since I don’t have a vehicle for the weekend, which is again, progress. (I would have rented one for the weekend before, but…I can have things delivered and I don’t have to go anywhere.)

And on that note–sorry to be so dull–I’m heading into the spice mines. Happy Saturday, everyone!

Former pro wrestler Alex Wright was a very pretty man.
  1. Remember when The Da Vinci Code turned the Templars into a publishing fad? I do. ↩︎

Burning Up

Thursday morning and the last day in the office for me this week. But I slept amazingly well last night, and feel rested and refreshed this morning. Today is going to be hectic–I have back to back clients all morning, and then this afternoon I have to renew my CPR license, which will take the rest of the day. Heavy heaving sigh. I do think, though, that I can come straight home tonight and chill. That would be lovely, and I can get caught up on chores that I won’t have to do over the weekend. We can also finish The Vampire Lestat, which we are both loving, and some other new shows/seasons have dropped as well that I need to explore. I also want to finish reading my books this weekend. I read some more of Love in the Afternoon and Evening, which I am really enjoying (thanks again, Kristopher, for the recommendation), and also want to get more into the new fiction read as well as the reread.

Yesterday was a bit rough. I didn’t sleep well Tuesday night (I may have forgotten to take my night time pills), and so was either over-caffeinated or tired most of the day at work. It was just busy enough to keep me on my toes, but not so busy I was miserable. Oddly enough, I did catch a second wind later in the afternoon–which was a relief, as I had a dinner date–and came home and changed before heading uptown to Le Petit Grocery for dinner, which was superb. (I even allowed myself a dirty martini, but just one.) The company was even more superb, as it always is–I really do have the most amazing friends. I actually didn’t feel tired at dinner, and yes, of course I got tired when I got home, but…I slept amazing last night and feel fantastic this morning.\

Yesterday was a bit on the insane side, at least in the world of social media and author organizations. I only currently belong to ITW (no membership fee) and Sisters in Crime. (Sisters always has and always will have a special place in my heart because they’ve all been so great and supportive of me, personally and professionally.) I’ve not belonged to HWA in a long time, but not out of any sense of oh they are so awful or anything like that; I chaired World Horror Con for them here in New Orleans in whatever year that was (I want to say 2014, but it may have been 2015; who can keep track anymore?), which I actually enjoyed doing, working mostly with Rocky Wood and Lisa Morton–and I became very fond of them both. When I saw the first rumbles about a controversy involving their newsletter yesterday on-line, my first thought was literally Thank God I am not on any boards anymore and the second was oh no poor Lisa (before remembering she isn’t president anymore) and finally to I am SO glad I am not on any writer’s organization boards anymore. As for the op-ed, I know the person who wrote it, and of course, someone sent me a link so I could read it. It was…badly written and poorly argued. I saw her claim that the piece was theoretically about bullying, to which my response was clearly, straight white lady, you’ve never been bullied. No, dear, your piece was about bullying authors for using generative-AI–you know, the thing that stole my work for training purposes? No, bitch, I am never using any generative-AI in any way with my work because it is my work and they STOLE from me and almost every published author in this country. As for those writers who do use generative A.I.? I won’t bully you but I also will not read you. I lost interest in the controversy when it became apparent a lot of people were jumping on the bandwagon to slam HWA, which I wasn’t interested in. I don’t publicly bash writers’ orgs because I have sat on their boards before and I know all the concomitant difficulties–as well as battles–that happen behind the scenes. Whether I agree with the decisions they make is a different story, but I try not to critique because I also know I don’t have the whole story. HWA reacted to the backlash very quickly, removed the person from their board, and issued an apology. The bashing still went on, and yes, it can be frustrating when you’re on the outside, but I at least don’t need to know anything more, and I am not a member of HWA. I prefer to believe that everyone behind the scenes is doing the best they can at crisis management, and to give the benefit of the doubt.

But, for future reference, straight white people? Don’t use the word “gatekeepers” so blithely and freely. It’s a term for the exclusion of non-straight not-white people, and the predictable process those of us they chose to publish wind up going through–and it’s incredibly offensive to be accused of that simply because I don’t want to use, or read anything by, generative-AI. Fuck you for that cultural appropriation now and forever, even if it was unintentional, it was still incredibly offensive. Use your generative-AI if you want. But you don’t get to tell me how I can or should feel about it, unless you’re paying the rent. If not, shut the fuck up and take a folding chair.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely day, Constant Reader; I’ll be back tomorrow after I drop the car off.

L. A. Knight from WWE

Think of Me

Monday morning and here we go again, climbing back onto the carousel of yet another work week. I feel good this morning, even if the weekend felt truncated with dealing with the car and being exhausted all day Saturday (and rather listless). My supervisor will only be in today before she leaves for an Ryan White funding conference, and I have to renew my CPR license on Thursday afternoon. I’m also having dinner with a friend on Wednesday, so there’s a lot on my agenda this week to keep track of; it’s so easy to forget things these days. Here’s hoping for a better week!

Okay, let me tell you the deal with my car.

I took it in early Friday morning to get the oil changed, the tires rotated and to have the a/c checked out. The good news is we know why it isn’t blowing cold air; the bulkhead had shifted somehow, and where it is at, it pierced the hose the connects the freon to the a/c, so it drained. However, they can’t replace the hose without having the bulkhead fixed or replaced; because it would just happened again. It took them all day to finally give up on the body shop and send me an Uber to get the car. This freaked me out, of course, and while I didn’t have a mental reaction thanks to my medications, I had the physical reaction of adrenaline spike, heart rate increase, etc., which was probably why I was so tired and exhausted Saturday. I also looked the “bulkhead” up on line–I was thinking about bulkheads, like on ships–and the part, if it needs to be replaced, isn’t even two hundred dollars, so any concerns about potential affordability were alleviated. I just have to deal with the heat and no a/c until I can get it to a body shop this coming Friday, and then back to the dealership on Saturday to get the hose and freon taken care of.

Cars are exhausting, aren’t they?

I have to say, the schadenfreude of watching the inevitable immolation of Jeannine Pirro’s life and career over this past weekend has been nothing more than chef’s kiss, no notes. The hilarity of seeing the minions, again and again, forgetting they don’t have immunity from illegal orders and watching the scorpion sting them repeatedly will never get old to me, never. The hubris of this bootlicking pointlessly arrogant piece of shit was due to bring her down eventually, and it’s almost as enjoyable as the downfall of that miserable pig Pam Bondi and her burn book. May they all endure humiliations galore. And I mean all of them.

Remember: “I was just following orders” isn’t a defense in court.

Have fun with your civil liability, Judge Boxowine, and you should be charged with malicious prosecution and abuse of the courts. Hopefully, he’ll die without giving your skank ass a pardon. Then again, you publicly called him a liar, so no pardon for you. I am sure being disbarred is also in your future.

Good.

I worked on the book some. I was struggling with chapter four, which made it hard to get back to–ugh, it’s work and it’s hard–but yesterday I felt good (and brave) enough to look at it again…and what I had been struggling to do? It was because I was trying too hard and basically sketched out, in less than four hundred words, what was going to happen in the first fifteen hundred to two thousand of the chapter, so I went to work. It’s nice not having a deadline to stress me out, but at the same time it also allows me to step away from it for a bit without worrying too much about losing/wasting time. I hope to get this chapter out of the way tonight when I get home–I have to make groceries, too, on the way–and run the dishwasher tonight while I sleep. I also got some reading in, which was amazing. I love lazy Sundays when I can just get things done.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Monday as much as you can, and I will be back here tomorrow morning bright and early.

This abandoned country house kind of reminds me of my maternal grandmother’s home, which is now abandoned and crumbling and overgrown like this. She had a front porch, though.

Physical Attraction

Sunday morning and Sparky let me sleep later this morning than he did yesterday, but I think I might have been better off going back to bed yesterday morning instead of staying up. I felt worn out and exhausted all day, with little to no motivation to do much of anything. I didn’t write any fiction yesterday, but I did get my latest newsletter, about the Rick Brant science mysteries and loving Egypt, out, so that’s an accomplishment, right? I also read some–read several chapters of Love in the Afternoon and Evening, and a couple of chapters of The Last House on Needless Street, which is a pleasure to read–and watched some news and some World War II short documentaries on Youtube (I got sucked into one on Midway, and then I was down the wormhole: Stalingrad, Battle of the Bulge, Normandy, and so forth). I needed a down day, methinks, because I feel really good this morning. Listen to your body, Gregalicious, which you most definitely did NOT do yesterday morning. I also didn’t do much organizing or cleaning or anything, either. Like I said, I was just low energy most of the day.

Which I guess I needed to be.

We also started The Vampire Lestat, and my God, is it wonderful. I already enjoyed Sam Reid as Lestat from Louis’ point of view in Interview with the Vampire, but my God, does he ever embody Anne Rice’s Brat Prince to perfection in this. Visually and stylistically it’s impressive and over the top and everything Mrs. Rice could have ever wanted for her characters. The story is compelling, driven so strongly by Sam Reid’s Lestat that I didn’t have the same reaction I initially did when reading the books–switching to Lestat’s point of view was jarring; my mentality was “the entire first book was about how much of an asshole he is, and now you’re making him the hero of the series?” But I kept reading the series–I never read any of the new books after she returned to the characters after a few years of a break, and maybe someday I will, like when I have a lengthy vacation where I can just read–like Acapulco. But we’re loving this season, and I am delighted that next season will be The Queen of the Damned, which was what turned her into an international best seller. I joined the series when there were just the three, and I read them all on a trip to Honolulu before the fourth came out–which was one of my favorites of the series. (I have to say, though, that my favorite Rice novel, The Witching Hour, was extremely disappointing as a series.)

We were going to go see Spider-Man today, but when I checked the theaters, there weren’t many seats left, and I told Paul last night that I didn’t think I’d be up to being around a lot of strangers today–the lobby will be packed as well as the cinema itself–and we decided to wait until next weekend, or my birthday, which is two weeks from Thursday, I think, when I turn sixty-five. That was quite the run-on sentence, wasn’t it? We are going to have to go out today–theory is that it’s supposed to be cooler today after the rain passes, and it looks like it has…at least for now, anyway. I think I may even go read for a bit once I post this, and should read until the rain is completely past, which, per the local news, will be around noon–there was just now a bit of thunder in the distance, so that’s probably on its way here now. I honestly don’t know what kind of day I am going to have, so I am not going to hope for any outcomes and see how the cards fall for the day. (We need to go pick up Paul’s new glasses at Costco, which is really where I should get my new ones…hmmm.)

And on that note, I am going to get something to eat and will head into the living room for a bit to do some reading. So, have a great day, my friends, and I’ll be back in the morning.

How old is this picture? I wouldn’t have thought anything about it until I noticed his computer looks like an iMac from around the turn of the century. Maybe he is into antiques?

Love Without Words

Saturday, August 1, and coniglio! Coniglio!

Let’s see if that works; it did for Trixie Belden in The Mystery of the Emeralds.

It’s Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment. Sparky got me up before seven this morning–His Majesty was HUNGRY–and I decided to get up and feed him. Once I was out of the bed, I decided to get cleaned up and get going on my day. Yesterday sucked–I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say the a/c in my car still isn’t working and I need to take it to another place first because some “body work” needs to be done, and it really doesn’t sound cheap–but I am shaking it off today. I’ve never had to spend much money on this car since buying it and it’s been about ten years. So, let it go, I can’t do anything about it until Monday, anyway, and why let that spoil my weekend when I have free time, I still feel good, and tomorrow we’re going to go see the new Spider-Man movie. So, lots to look forward to, and today I am going to try to get some stuff done around here. I need to order groceries for delivery (too hot to drive there and back), and I need to get the house back under control again. It’s not that bad, but the last couple of days I’ve let things slide a bit. I did read some of my book yesterday, and it’s really fantastic. We caught this week’s Sugar, and I think tonight we’ll dive into The Vampire Lestat.

I also have those Emily Wilson translations to dip into, as well. And a newsletter to get out, but them not going out consistently has been an issue from the first, and I do suspect the only person I am actually disappointing with any of this is me, you know? But they are fun to write, and while I do forget things I wanted to say in them from time to time, and I don’t proof them as thoroughly as I should before they go out, but I am also not going to get anxious or stressed about them. Paul is going to work with his trainer today and then is going to ride the bike at the gym, so I should have the entire afternoon to myself for downtime, reading and writing and more cleaning. Why is there always more cleaning to do? Heavy heaving sigh. I did decide to treat myself to a long birthday weekend this month, so I have my birthday and the Friday after to accept that I am officially elderly. It doesn’t bother me (much); it’s more shocking to me that I made it this far, with so much stacked against me. Making it to 65 as a gay man in this country was no small accomplishment, but honestly? Pure damn luck. I made it through the HIV pandemic without getting infected–miracle of miracles, especially when it seemed so damned unlikely any of us would make it through with anything other than PTSD and guilt. (The guilt has always been tough for me to deal with–why me? Why did so many wonderful and talented and brilliant people die? And yes, I’ve been thinking about this since the circus the other day with Dr. Fauci, whose true crime to conservatives is that he helped stop gay men from dying.)

Maybe I do see homophobia everywhere, but you know what? That’s what it almost always is–enough times that it’s not a surprise when that does turn out to be the case.

It also pleases me to no end to see Tom Holland and Zendaya starring in the two biggest movies of the summer. I’ve always liked her, and of course, his lip-sync to Rihanna made me a life long fan of our short king. He is also one of the rare examples of a child star who grew up into a successful and always working adult actor/star.

I was also amused to see the Department of Justice and that pig Jeannine Pirro had to drop charges against “reflecting pool vandals” when it turned out to be a result of shoddy installation on a (surprise!) a no-bid contract for one of the Harkonnens’ friends? Everything the Baron said about the reflecting pool was a lie (as everyone with a brain and one working eye could see), and his minions jumped in line–against all reason, against all sanity, and above all else, against the Constitution–to snap to his insane logic and mentality and excuses. His supporters should never be allowed in public again without being shamed for the bootlicking quislings they are. (I laugh every time they call him “Daddy”–showing they are all fucking betas and will roll over, ass end up in the air ready for his penetration) Karoline Leavitt and Jeannine Pirro will go on to jobs at Fox, next to Sophie “Maga Skipper” (Barbie would never) Cunningham.

And when this is finally all over? Watch the centrist Dems try to close the book and “move on.” We saw this after the Bush Crime Syndicate left office in 2009, and way back when the Republicans sold out southern Blacks for political power. (They haven’t changed from what they became under Grant.)

What this country has allowed itself to become makes me appreciate that I am old, and I do not ever wish I were younger. Ever. And I wouldn’t go back in time even if I could.

And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and take my book over to my easy chair. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved stained glass. I played with it as a hobby in my twenties, but could never ever dream of doing something so artistic.

Bizarre

And here we are on another work-at-home Friday, and I am up early because I am heading to the car dealership on the West Bank, hopefully to get an oil change, tire rotation, and some freon added to the climate control so it will blow cold air again. I’ve never had any added since I bought the car, and it’s been nearly ten years since that day. Hard to believe so much time has passed, and I do not miss the monthly car payment in the fucking least, but here’s hoping this car will last me until I am in the ground because I never want to have to deal with buying a car again so long as I should live. Please God, make it so. But I do love my car, because it’s mine. No one else has owned it, and hopefully no one else ever will. (Barring a windfall, of course, but I will never buy a car on payments again, if I can help it.)

The plumber did come and installed a new sink for us, which is very cool. I wasn’t expecting a new sink! I had thought I wasn’t going to run errands last night, but a package was delivered for me and my copies of Emily Wilson’s translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey also came in and needed retrieving. I was anxious to get home, though, and see the new sink as well as wash what dishes remained. It really is sad that I got so excited over a new sink, isn’t it? My kitchen sink has been the bane of my existence since we moved into this apartment; no good water pressure which meant the sprayer didn’t work, and the faucet itself has been loose. I think it’s the same sink we had when we moved in here back in that summer of 2005? Anyway, it’s marvelous! The sprayer hose works! I did the dishes last night, and it was so much easier than it used to be…fingers crossed the car will be just as easily handled. I”m going to take my book with me to read so hopefully I won’t be on my phone the entire time, which is completely unnecessary and a habit I need to break. I don’t like this phone habit, and am really good about not being on my phone all night after work, or on the weekends. I do not need to be instantly available for anyone or anything.

I do feel a bit tired this morning, but that’s to be expected on a Friday anyway. We finished watching Ride or Die last night, and we loved it. The finale set up a second season perfectly, and I hope it does get renewed. I liked that, for once, the show focused on the friendship between the two women, which was loving and caring and supportive. The plot was fun, if it a little thin–but the action kept the story barreling along, and the chemistry between Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer is off the charts. Highly recommend it! I think this weekend we are going to move on to The Vampire Lestat, and we have an episode of Sugar to catch up on, too. And we’ll probably watch The Devil Wears Prada 2.

So, they sent me home in an Uber so I wouldn’t have to wait there, which tells me it’s going to be a minute before the car is done and the a/c is going to cost me at least $199 (erased if I have the repair work done), so I know it will be that. much in the least. But yes, I am not gaslighting myself, either; getting into the Uber, the driver had the a/c on low and I was comfortable in the backseat, and I wasn’t when I drove over there. Here’s hoping for just freon and a new filter. Hopefully it won’t take most of the day; they are going to send me an Uber when the car is finished, and I have an errand to run on the way home…and I can get some things done this morning/early afternoon while I am waiting, including my day job responsibilities. I also feel pretty good this morning, too, if hungry. I was tired when I first got up, but I’m feeling a lot better now. I started reading The Last House on Needless Street (I was there for half an hour when they decided to treat me to a ride home) and I am loving it so far; it’s very dreamy (fever dream, but still a dream) and hypnotic, and it’s very plain from the opening sentence that the narrator will be unreliable. There’s a sense of We Have Always Lived in the Castle to it, and it’s making me think of small towns in the South (as so many things often do) and a novella I need to revisit and revise; the endless list of unfinished projects in my files is truly horrifying. After work today I am going to work on my book some and maybe some short stories, and an excellent project for me to do today is look at the submission calls I have on hand that I may have something for and decide what to work on alongside the book.

And on that note, methinks I shall head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday/August Eve, Constant Reader, and I will be back here tomorrow morning, bright and early.

Everything

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I have to take the car over to the dealership across the river tomorrow morning, but hope to have a nice productive day once I get home from that. I intend to stay inside the cool house as much as possible. I feel rested and good this morning–my Achilles tendons are making their presence known again, but nothing unbearable, just noticeable. I slept really well last night, which is nice, and the heat is breaking at last; now we’re just in a heat advisory, rather than an extreme heat watch. I parked my car in the garage at work yesterday, so the drive home was bearable yesterday. I picked up the mail, got my copy of All Aboard for Murder by Ellen Byron, and made a little groceries. I did do some chores last night–cleaned out the sink and ran the dishwasher overnight–and did some picking up. We watched another episode of Ride or Die, which we are loving, and I went to bed. And it looks like we may get some rain this weekend, which would be marvelous; there’s nothing like New Orleans after a cooling summer downpour.

Something occurred yesterday on Facebook that hasn’t happened in quite a while; someone from one of my past eras (thanks, Taylor, for that name) appeared on my feed extolling ignorant MAGA talking points about Dr. Fauci and his testimony yesterday and of course, the people in his life were all there replying (viciously) in agreement in his comments. While I was tempted to ask, did you go back to school and get either a medical or epidemiology degree I chose instead to block him. It was also a reminder that over the years I’ve accepted friend requests from people out of a previous era mostly out of curiosity, more than anything else. I’ve also accepted friend requests from strangers since I started an account there during the Bush administration (yikes). Sometimes I get requests from names that sound familiar and I can’t place either the name or the face, so I don’t know how I know them or just that they have a familiar-sounding name. The person yesterday popped up on my feed out of nowhere, and was one of those I know I know you but don’t remember much about you which usually is an indication that, well, you’re not someone that made a deep impression on me nor do I care about you or your opinions. I saw the post, blocked the person, and then–because it hadn’t happened in so long–I posted about it blocking MAGA’s from my past. (Is anyone surprised that guys from my fraternity support an adjudicated rapist? And yes, that means exactly what you think it means.) Anyway, someone replied to my post with “Add me to the list” which was both annoying–you lazy MAGA fuck, you won’t block me?–and hilarious at the same time. Dude, I have no fucking idea who you are. Your name sounds familiar but that’s it, and do you honestly think I care what a rando MAGA piece of shit thinks? The arrogance! Like it’s some great pleasure for me to be friends with you on social media when I don’t even know who you are? For the record, MAGA is a cult with a plank for homophobia. Every single time you vote, you vote to have my rights as an American stripped away. And you think we should be friends? Fuck all the way off, and then fuck off some more.

And my wall isn’t an airport–no need to announce your departure. Have the life you voted for. I mean that with all of my heart.

For the record, the tolerant left is another Fox News lie. My tolerance went away during the HIV/AIDS pandemic–remember? “It’s killing all the right people”? If you’re looking for tolerance of your abhorrent beliefs that also mean you consider me less than human, you’re knocking on the wrong door, boo. Look for the house with the swastikas MAGA signs.

Recently, someone promoting his business, natch,did a light show on the Lalaurie mansion–without permission from either the owners or the Vieux Carre Commission. It was in incredibly poor taste–I’ve always thought it being a tourist attraction was exploitative, given the house’s horrific history, and what Delphine LaLaurie did to enslaved people shouldn’t be a folk legend told in whispers and intended to give a cheap thrill. People were tortured, maimed, and murdered there; the amount of suffering is unimaginable, and surely its in poor taste and exploitative to market that horrific past. If any piece of ground in this city is haunted, surely that lot would be it. I have always wanted to write about the Lalaurie House, but I wouldn’t want to do it in an exploitative kind of way, which I am not sure is even possible. Over a decade ago, a friend who is a horror writer suggested I should do a short story collection called Monsters of New Orleans; how could such a book be possible without including Delphine the demon? Maybe someday.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow before (or after) my trip to the West Bank.

Ben Pierce also does excellent Louisiana photography, and I love this shot of a foot bridge in the Atchafalaya Swamp–very evocative, and an excellent writing prop

Fragile

Wednesday and somehow, it’s Pay the Bills Wednesday again. Go figure, right? Time keeps on slipping, into the future…. Time keeps on slipping, into the future…. Time keeps on slipping, slipping, into the future….

I’ve been spacy this week and I am not really sure what that’s about, honestly. I don’t mind–I’m being productive and getting things done, but I think I’m still not used to all this free time that I have now. I’m used to worrying about things I have to do when I’m taking down time, and I’m also so used to having so much to do all the time that I can’t comprehend having actual down time without anxiety. I’m still wrapping my mind around this. Trust me, I don’t miss being that busy or that Type A in the least. So the week is going well. I haven’t been doing much reading this week, either, but after I get home tonight–depending on how miserable the drive home in the heat–I want to do some reading. This a/c in the car not working thing is very unpleasant (fortunately I am not in the car that long), so I will have to bring the car in this Friday. It’s fine, I haven’t been over to the West Bank in a while, and I should see what else I should do while I am over there. I have to make groceries on the way home, and of course, not having a/c in the car is going to make the trip even more marvelous. Heavy heaving sigh.

Yesterday was a good day, even if I was tired. The plumber is coming to look at the sink tomorrow morning, so I need to empty the dishwasher tonight and do something about the dishes in the sink, which are too dirty to load into the dishwasher, but I can at least hide them in there to get them out of the sink and out of their way. Yesterday was a nice, busy day at the office, and I stayed caught up on everything. Our site visit is today, too. Two more days of July, so I also have end of the month duties to look forward to tomorrow and Monday. Yay! I know this sounds like I’m spoiled, but not having cold air in the car during a excessive heat warning is the pits. By the time I got home yesterday I was drained; the heat just sucks your soul right out of you. I fed Sparky and gave him some attention (he loves to sit on my shoulders and head butt me) before collapsing into my easy chair to cool down from the hideous heat outside. Paul was home, so we watched some Jeopardy before diving back into Ride or Die, which we are loving. Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer need to be in everything. I went to bed at a relatively decent time and slept like a stone. I’m debating running errands on the way home tonight in the heat; there are a couple of things I need, so maybe I should just swing by and make some groceries on the way home but not drive uptown for the mail until after I get the car serviced Friday morning. It does seem smarter. At least then I will know if there’s anything wrong with the a/c compressor.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mins. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I will see you tomorrow on my last day in the office for the week day blog.

This is such an 80’s look! Sweaty and everything torn for a glimpse of lovely skin. And lots and lots of oil.YayYay

School

Oddly enough, this past weekend I was thinking about my experiences in school (while being a little taken aback by how long ago I graduated high school; two years will be the fiftieth anniversary of that). Public school was unpleasant for me after we moved to the suburbs (it was fine when we lived in the city), and I always figured the other kids somehow figured out that I was gay and bullied me until we moved to Kansas, where I had one good year before it started up again. How do they always know? What I actually didn’t know was that my sister (and why wouldn’t she have told him, or my mother?) told my father (in the wake of Mom’s death) that I was bullied pretty badly. Dad brought it up at some recently (I think during the May trip) , but he had an entirely different perspective and one that had never occurred to me before; “you were so much younger than everyone. Not only should we not have let you skip a grade, we should have held you out a year.”

Wow. Wasn’t prepared for that massive paradigm shift in my head canon. I also recently read a post from someone who, like me, had been bullied for being gay in high school, only to have one of his bullies reach out to reconnect like nothing had ever happened…which is also something similar to my experience; people I went to high school with are stunned that I remember being bullied and don’t have good memories. ‘But everyone loved you!” they always say, and I am always taken aback by their reaction. Is it…is it possible that calling me a fag was just…teasing and didn’t mean anything more? And I can remember, actually, hearing them call other guys that, too–an insult and a joke…so were they really just teasing me, considering me one of the guys? Did it sting so badly and horribly because it was true, and they didn’t know? And of course, given my brain chemistry issues…

And yes, I was sixteen when I graduated from high school. I was almost three years younger than some of the kids in my graduating class.

I will have to explore this in an essay at some point. Two or three years in teenager is a fucking lot. And it seems like my sixties are my decade for reflecting on the past.

But it’s Tuesday, I am awake and drinking coffee, Sparky is being annoying because he wants attention and my body doesn’t feel quite awake yet. The heat warning is going through the weekend (!!!) so again, probably going to try to stay inside as much as possible. There’s only a month left of this extreme heat…yay? There were some systems out there they were watching for potential hurricane development, but this morning’s check of the NOAA web page shows nothing of interest, which is different from the last time I looked at that map. But the local weather also shows nothing to watch out there, so I guess those systems disbursed? Not sure how to feel about that and whether to trust it or not, but….nothing to worry about is nothing to pay attention to. Our garbage disposal also–per our landlady–has a clogged filter so my kitchen sink spigots don’t let any water through. This started on Sunday, but Sam the handyman wasn’t around yesterday, but he’s out there this morning so I will tell him on my way out to the office and hopefully, tonight I can do the dishes. Yesterday was very miserably hot, so much so that the a/c in the car never blew cool. I was concerned–it needs freon, I think, so Friday morning I’ll have to drive over to the West Bank (due for oil change, too) and get that looked at–there’s no way I can survive a summer here without functional a/c in the car.

We are all caught up on House of the Dragon, and watched another Ride or Die. I was glad to see Sir Criston die horribly and dishonorably; personally I loved that he challenged his foes to a duel only to get an arrow in the chest in response. It also made me think of an allegory last night, as Rhaenyra and Daemon continued to make mistakes and fail at ruling; it’s much easier to capture a throne than it is to govern, as the Republicans remind us over and over. The only thing they are actually good at is being an opposition party. Democrats are shitty at opposition but good at governing for the most part. Isn’t that always the way? Westeros is descending into chaos again–and chaos, as we remember from Littlefinger, is a ladder.

Yesterday was a kind of weird one, honestly. I did feel off all day, not really sure what that was all about, but I also managed to get current on everything. I did some writing yesterday, too, but not much but it was something, a couple of hundred words, but it was some progress and every word is one word closer to having a completed first draft. I am coming straight home from work tonight, and if the sink is working I’ll do the dishes, and then I am going to reread what I already have done and make notes–I already have some for Chapter One–and hopefully this weekend I will be able to get more written, since I’ll be camped out inside the house all weekend. The house is a very lovely cool oasis from the heat and humidity. Oh! I also figured out some more Scotty things! Which makes me happy, you have no idea. I was beginning to think Scotty was gone from me now…horrors!

And on that thought, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Taco Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.

@DavidFlorentine also does excellent New Orleans photography. Follow him on social media! I love this moody sunrise shot of Pirate’s Alley.

Love Sensation

Monday and back to the office with me, lickety-split and all that nonsense. I feel good and rested this morning, if having a bit of a slow start to the day, but once the coffee starts kicking in I should be fine. Here’s hoping for a lovely week. The coffee is quite good; one of the chores I did yesterday was descaling and cleaning the Keurig, which was very overdue. I did quite a bit yesterday, given how much time I spent sitting in my easy chair, chilling out. But I got some work done on the floors, organized the refrigerator and freezer to optimize space, and now probably this coming weekend I will work on the kitchen cabinets and the laundry room and my workspace. It was lovely coming downstairs to a clean kitchen this morning, and also kind of relaxing. I have some errands to do, and am wondering about getting them handled today on the way home from work tonight. We’re in both a heat advisory and an extreme heat watch, with the “feels like” in the high hundred and teens. YIKES!!! The car is going to feel amazing when I get in it after work this afternoon….yay.

Yesterday was a very lovely day–it’s so lovely to enjoy weekends free from stress about the gazillion emails waiting in my inbox, you have no idea–and I did some vastly overdue chores and organizing, while watching television and doing some writing. (So many people think I’ll be bored when I finally retire from the day job. Hardly. Not so long as I can read, watch, and type, darlin’.) I got caught up on the news–Ukraine continues to embarrass and wreck the Russian economy and war effort, and it’s just a matter of time before Putin falls, isn’t it? I am very pleased with how the weekend went, and I feel so completely rested this morning, it’s kind of wild, you know?

House of the Dragon is so much better this season than the previous ones, and I have to say I am glad I went back and gave this season a second chance after that terrible season opener. Finally things are happening instead of the conspiring–not good, especially given Game of Thrones–but I still don’t care who winds up on the Iron Throne, and given it’s Westeros, my guess is none of these contenders that we are seeing will win anything. Royal family feuds inevitably and historically weaken dynasties–so is it such a wonder that the Targaryens fell, and this was how it all started? I just wish the first two seasons hadn’t been quite so slow with all the set-up.

Started rereading Celebrity yesterday, and picked out my next reads–picked out a novel I don’t know how I acquired–and it entirely possible I confused this author with someone else (it’s happened before, and will happen again). Regardless, the first three paragraphs of The Last House on Needless Street sucked me right in AND triggered my creativity, so am looking forward to getting deeper into my read. It seems like one of those fabulous “creepy house down the street in a small town, which I love (We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the ur-novel of this subgenre), so we shall see how that goes. L.A. Noir will be my nonfiction; it’s also research, after all. I also must make a list of research necessary for the next Scotty, so I can get started doing that. I also want to finish this chapter of Chlorine before working on some short stories. I also am thinking again about The Last Picture Show and writing an essay about its depiction of masculinity and male sexuality, which would also require a revisit.

Still digesting Rough Pages, which was so engrossing and smart, with so much to say. I wish I had gone deeper into the importance of queer books, which is the book’s overlying theme, in my newsletter recommending the book to my subscribers. We have so many amazing queer crime writers these days, it’s hard keeping up with them all.

We also started watching Ride or Die, and seriously–can we have Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer in everything, seriously? This show is incredible, and both women are fantastic in their roles. Why haven’t we seen Waddingham as an action/adventure star before? She is a goddess, and the way she lights up the screen is amazing. Highly recommend this one, seriously.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely, lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning, bright and early.

Gorgeous out bisexual actor Francois Arnaud for Under Armour. Damn! You see why I’ve been a fan since The Borgias.