Category: essays

Little Too Late

Home again, home again. It’s hot as Satan’s taint here in New Orleans–Alabama was cool and lovely in comparison and it was hot as fuck up there–I was drenched in sweat getting the car unloaded; something was going on in the ‘hood yesterday because I had to park at Coliseum Square and walk back, which exhausted me and so I just collapsed into my chair and sat there for a bit before showering and relaxing for the evening. We got caught up on Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which is absolutely delightful (Tatiana Maslany never disappoints; how she didn’t win an Emmy for every season of Orphan Black is yet another example of how wrong they often are) and then a few episodes of Citadel. I slept in this morning a bit, which was also nice, but I feel a bit worn out this morning. I slept very well last night, too. I did sleep well in Alabama, and I am glad I got to spend time with Dad; even if it was so brief. I didn’t do much of anything up there other than hang out with Dad and sleep, but it was nice.

I was very lucky with my parents for the most part.

The drives up and back were lovely and uneventful. I listened to Margot Douaihy’s marvelous Blessed Water in the car, and got to chapter eight listening to Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages, which is also excellent–for the record, queer crime writers are consistently knocking it out of the park, people, what are you doing? READ them. On the way up I stopped in Ellisville to get gas an they had a Jack’s (their hamburgers are good good good so you’ll go back back back for more more more) so I ate there. New development on the drive up–my legs stiffened on both drives, making walking when I got out more difficult than it needed to be, but that can also be chalked up to Greg is now so fucking out of shape it’s like he never worked out in his life ever. I stopped at the Love’s at Mile 24 in Mississippi and brought Arbys home for dinner. Paul very kindly washed the bed linens yesterday so I came home to fresh and clean bedding, which was so marvelous. I slept for almost eleven hours last night, and I cannot remember the last time I did that. I feel a bit rung out this morning, but that’s the sleep hangover and some muscle tightness in my legs. Gee, Greg, why don’t you just stretch?

I am oft times oblivious and clueless.

I’m not sure if I am going to do any writing today; like I said, I feel a bit worn today, so I don’t know how that is going to play out. I do need to do some work on the kitchen and living room, too, and some laundry. A rest day to do absolutely nothing would have been lovely, but if I get it all done quickly–and focus–I can get it all under control in a couple of hours…but I really want to get back to reading Rough Pages. I’d like to do my essay on Blessed Water today, but that’s going to depend on my energy levels and how much I can get done around the house, too. I am going to at least finish the chapter I started in the car yesterday and possibly another.

One of the nice things about these trips is they enable me to disconnect from the world’s insanity and get some perspective on things. (The “State Fair” is another humiliation for him and the country; the Lyon County Fair back in Kansas had higher attendance (and better rides and activities)…a county fair. State fairs are a bigger deal than this “national” one. I can’t seem to remember Gerald Ford making the Bicentennial about him, or him coming up with an “alternative” Bicentennial he could make money from…but Republicans in the 1970s put country before party nor were they a insurrectionist movement looking to install fascism back then….these Republicans would have let Nixon serve out his second term. All of where we are now is a result of Reagan, whose money and power above all else mentality began the tribalism, and brought us Newt Gingrich and the divine right of Republicans to rule.

Sigh. And catching up on the news after three glorious days makes it all the more surreal, you know?

And on that note, I am heading for the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning. Stay cool!

Bayou sunsets are so gorgeous! I highly recommend they use this color next as the Reflecting Pool cycles through the Pride flag.

Silent Partner

Tuesday and we made it through Monday, did we not? Huzzah!

Today’s weather is ungodly hot; we’re still in a heat advisory and the temperature today will feel like 106. It was ninety-nine degrees outside yesterday when I left work. It actually didn’t feel that bad–thank the Lord for air conditioning; again, I don’t know how anyone could have lived here before electricity–and I don’t think I’m yet getting used to it or anything, since it hasn’t been this hot since last summer. Last night we also had a weird situation with our power–there was a surge or something, and after it happened, the lights were dim, the washing machine couldn’t run, and more crucially, the air conditioning wasn’t coming on, either, and it was getting warm in here when I went to bed. The power went off about ten thirty and stayed off for a minute or so, before the power came roaring back on. Right now, the load of laundry that was delayed overnight is running, the lights are very bright, and it’s the proper summer indoor temperature. This will be one of those summers, I think, where the air can’t keep up with the heat.

I finally finished and posted my newsletter about how one of my many favorite juvenile series, featuring Ken Holt, was pretty homoerotic. Just click anywhere on the blue and it’ll take you right there. Hope you click, and hope you enjoy, and maybe even subscribe? It is absolutely one hundred percent free. It also lightly touched on something that I’ve been thinking about since watching Half Man; it’s also entirely possible something resonated in me while watching that I may have projected onto the show–which is part of the reason I’ve not written about it yet, because I am still digesting everything from watching. I think I am going to have to rewatch some of it so I can write about it more clearly and not so much from memory. And who knows? I may never write about it if I can never think about it more cohesively, and structurally.

I wasn’t tired when I got home from work, and loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen some. I picked up the mail and made some groceries on the way home, too; it was strange how little traffic there was yesterday, both in the morning and after work. I love when school is out for summer. It’s wild what an impact that has on city traffic–not that our traffic is really worth complaining about, because it’s rarely stop-and-go, other than the ramp from I-10 West to 90–and even that wasn’t too bad yesterday–the ramp to the river bridge wasn’t backed up as far as it usually is and the right lane–which I take to head uptown on Claiborne–was empty except for the assholes who don’t think they should wait like everyone else and jumps the line of cars. Paul wasn’t feeling well–he hasn’t these last couple of days–but the weather has been particularly nasty during that same time period. The humidity is back, of course, and the air conditioning felt wonderful this morning when I got up. I couldn’t find my wallet (left it in the car like an idiot) which also had me a bit off-balance, but I did manage to sleep very well, woke up before the alarm (a good thing, because I had reset the clock and fucked up am v. pm), and of course, Sparky was his usual loving “I’m hungry” self this morning. He’s such a spoiled little fella.

I am thinking that the “darling” I wrote on the book this weekend may actually fit into the story, after all. I am going to go ahead and complete it, I think, and we’ll see where it goes from there. I have some ideas, too, and I am very pleased with myself and the book, too. While it may be what I consider a more commercial idea than what I usually write, that doesn’t influence what I want to write and what I want to do, which is probably not the smartest way to be an author, I suppose. I’ve also kind of accepted, going into it, that I was never going to have any huge success and I was fine with that, honestly; had I wanted to make big money as a writer I wouldn’t be writing about queer life. It was not the right choice for that, really, nor have I ever been arrogant enough to think that I would be the exception. So, I’ll just go on doing what I am doing, stumbling through a long publishing career which has to be respected for the longevity, if nothing else, not knowing what I am doing, and not caring if an idea that seizes my imagination and creativity is commercial or not.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow morning.

It’s so rare to see someone built like this who hasn’t waxed, shaved and plucked off all of his body hair.

Tell It To Her

Monday morning and it’s back to the office with me today. It was a lovely weekend, and I had a nice day yesterday. I wrote–working on a short story, a newsletter, and most importantly THE BOOK–and did some things around the house but mostly took it easy. I also dipped into the book I am reading and was charmed instantly, as I knew I would be. We also started watching the new season of Citadel, but I barely remember the first one. It’s very action-packed and moves very quickly, and also has a very top-notch cast. I slept well last night and am feeling good this morning, honestly. The kitchen and apartment are a bit messy, but that’s okay. I am pleased with how this holiday weekend went, and looking forward to seeing Dad this weekend. I’ve still not picked out what I want to listen to in the car, and I didn’t get a newsletter sent out over the weekend, either.

Looks like we’re done with rain, at least for now. No rain for the entire week in the forecast, and I imagine Alabama is going to be miserably hot this weekend–and I must remember to wear a hat when I am outside. (And yes, they are having dangerous heat levels in Alabama, too; we’re currently in a heat advisory and I suspect this is going to be a long and miserable summer, and not just in New Orleans.) I have to try to get things in order since I am going away for a couple of days–nothing major or long, just driving up Thursday and back Saturday–but I hate coming home to a messy, disorganized house. I’ll try to touch up on things Thursday morning before I leave (planning on getting on the road around noon), and I doubt I’ll do much, if any, writing while I am gone. I probably won’t post here until Sunday morning, so prepare for a brief holiday from yours truly’s mad typing on here. I think I am going to listen to Margot Douaihy’s Blessed Water in the car going and coming. I blurbed it and read it in galley form several years ago, but all I remember (that illness memory issue again) is that I loved it–Margot is an exceptionally skilled artist–and I want to read the next Sister Holiday, so I am going to revisit it in the car so I can write about it as a Pride selection–and books like the ones Margot writes make me very proud to be a queer crime writer. (It’s been a while since I read the first one–which blew me completely away.)

And I am writing a noir, so it might be helpful to read one of the most literary noir writers of all time. It certainly can’t hurt.

I’m not sure about what I wrote on the book yesterday, if I am going to try to be completely honest. I feel like maybe I started down a possibly wrong path yesterday; but I could be wrong. It might be something that needs to go when it’s time for brutal edits, but I also think it’s important that my character actually have a kind of “safe space”–wouldn’t it make sense for a closeted gay actor in 1950s Hollywood to create a place where he can get away from all the lies and bullshit and Hollywood nonsense? I just worry it may soften him? Or…maybe this part can make how he is in the other parts of the book even more powerful? Living a constant lie is horrible and warps people (look at Lindsey Graham, for one prominent example), not to mention the constant worry about blackmail or another queer selling you out to save themselves–the closet makes people do horrible, horrible things, and that might be the underlying theme I am playing with here: the closet warps and twists people; fear can make you do some crazy-ass things.

And I kind of like that these kinds of thoughts are coming into my head. The loss of anxiety has helped enormously with that; I think I also used to write fast partly so my imposter syndrome wouldn’t have time to kick into gear and make me doubt myself. I like that now, when I question myself about my writing, it’s about choices and character and theme, rather than you’ve got a nerve thinking you can write something like this, which is what it used to be and was quite horrible. I’ve also recognized that I can’t really force it as much as I used to; I’m not sure what that means for my mental state and my tendency to self-deprecate, which was always so goddamned self-defeating (the thought process was if I am humble and play down what I do I can’t be offended by criticism because I am harder on myself than anyone else); that was always one of the biggest problems I had with coming up with coping mechanisms to protect myself from anxiety; it’s hard to explain how freeing it is to not have that making me tense and tightly wound all of the time.

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

An “allée,” aka a road bounded by trees or bushes. Spooky looking with the ground fog.

Just Like Me

And here we are on Sunday morning. It rained yesterday and was damp and humid all day. It looks like it rained overnight, too. I slept well and got up early this morning, as I had hoped I would. Sparky somehow knows when I want to get up early–he let me sleep late the last two mornings, even if I was already awake when he decided to get me up this morning. Yesterday was actually kind of nice, to be honest. I did do some writing and organizing yesterday, which was awesome, and I hope to do more today and, since I am up so early, perhaps do some reading as well. I only have to work three days this week because I am leaving for Alabama on Thursday (be back on Saturday), and of course next week will be yet another holiday weekend. I am getting rather spoiled, methinks.

We were really lucky as far as Arthur and the other storms he spawned in his wake are concerned; I just saw how so much of the Gulf Coast and the southern parts of Mississippi got slammed with flooding, and I do have to drive through that part of the state on Thursday on my way north. I haven’t yet decided what I am going to listen to in the car, either. Since it’s still Pride, I am thinking maybe something on the queer side, rather than my usual car stalwarts (Carol Goodman, Donna Andrews, Laurie King, Lisa Unger), this time around. Something to ponder, for sure. I’ve also not been as motivated this year, for some reason, to write Pride essays for my newsletter–and I think I actually just figured it out; using Pride Month to talk about queer issues, books, culture and experience is limiting, because–just like African-American History Month in February, I worry I will only do that during Pride, and that’s wrong. Just as I read marginalized writers all year long, I should write about queer issues all year and shouldn’t just make it about Pride Month. Du-uh.

Sometimes it takes me a minute. I am kind of oblivious that way, most of the time. (I also started writing this and then got sucked into clips of World Cup tourists having a lovely time here for much longer than necessary…but I also had the whole morning, and I’ve also been fighting Sparky for my desk chair all morning, too (even now as I type this he is lying underneath my desk, waiting for me to get up again). I’ve had some toast and a piece of coffee cake, and might need to have something else before I take my pills and get cleaned up and move into the living room. And I have to go back to the office tomorrow, heavy sigh. Not a terrible thing, actually, especially since I feel good and rested and recharged this morning. I am resisting the urge to do literally nothing for the rest of the day, which wouldn’t be a good thing. But dear Lord, is it ever tempting to think about! I have moved to the easy chair from my desk; I got up for more coffee and the look Sparky gave me from my desk chair, once he’d moved into it literally the moment I got up? Yeah, you can have the chair, Mr. Man.

We finished America’s Sweethearts, and yeah, not nearly as engaging as the earlier seasons. From there, we moved on to the latest Harlan Coben show on Netflix, I Will Find You, which was thoroughly engaging, had intense and insane twists and turns, and was also very well-acted. You really can never go wrong with a Harlan Coben show, seriously, or book. Harlan’s the best, and absolutely deserves every cent of his insane success.

Maybe I should have been nicer. Nah, that would have been exhausting because that’s just not who I am.

Yes, I did write yesterday, in case you were wondering, It felt good and so I just went with it. I also gathered up all my journal notes for the book–long overdue–and I also found all the scans of book notes from all the older journals (I’d forgotten I’d already done this before–the joys of the impaired memory I’ve had most of this decade), which will make the book easier to write. It really does help to get organized. I’m still not finished organizing, either, but I know I can make some excellent progress today. I also need to do a bit of chores today, too, but I want to get some writing done again today. I also worked on a couple of short stories yesterday, which was also kind of awesome. It feels amazing to be writing again, and all this free time is also amazing, which is partly why I am feeling so lazy. I always had so much else to do all the time that writing always felt like my lowest priority, and now that all I have to do, besides my chores and every day things and my job, is write and relax, it’s wonderful. I don’t have to be so organized and busy all the time, and I don’t need to feel guilty for doing things other than writing anymore, which is lovely.

And so on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, and I will be back tomorrow morning!

Take It Any Way You Want It

And here it is Saturday in the Lost Apartment and as far as I can tell, all is well–at least for now. WE did get some rain last night–leftovers from Arthur, best I can tell–but the sun is shining and bright this morning, but everything outside is glistening and wet. I overslept big time this morning, which isn’t a big deal–I must have needed the rest, and Sparky was a cuddlebug, too, which made getting up even harder. I don’t think I am going to leave the house the rest of the weekend, unless I make a quick run to the Rouses in the CBD. I do feel rested and good this morning, which is a very good thing. I am going to try to do some reading and writing today around picking up and organizing; I got the dishes and laundry taken care of yesterday. The kitchen looks good, and really, picking up and doing the floors is all I have to do, other than organize, for housework.

I wasn’t fatigued yesterday so much as I was low-energy, so I did a lot of relaxing around the chores. I watched a lot of videos ofWorld Cup tourists enjoying the US for the first time, while hating the fact that MAGA is making compilation videos of how “great” America is after the Europeans have been “lied to by their leftist media” about America. Question for the closeted MAGA influencers making this “gotcha” videos: what do you think Europeans thought of the videos from January 6th? And actually, isn’t this proof that America is already great? But then again, logical thought processes aren’t exactly MAGA’s forté, are they? We also watched most of America’s Sweethearts, with one left to go, and I don’t think I enjoyed this season as much. This is the first of their three seasons that filmed after the earlier seasons truly started airing and becoming globally popular–and that they are all too aware of how they are coming across to the audience and the cameras. Judy and Kelly aren’t the same as they once were, and seem to be a lot more concerned about coming across as mothering and nurturing and supportive, instead of the relentless bitches who know what they want when they see it and aren’t settling for anything less. Loving but tough isn’t, sadly, as fun to watch; they were kind of endearing in their relentless drive to preserve and expand their brand; the Netflix show was a smart move for them, but I think they weren’t expecting a significantly larger audience than they used to get on TNN. There’s also something to be said about the Madonna/whore dichotomy on display here, too, but I will leave that to the feminist scholars to deconstruct and examine. Today, we’ll finish the cheerleaders’ show, get caught up with Cape Fear and Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, and probably start the new Harlan show on Netflix.

I was pleased to see the US men’s team defeated Australia in Seattle yesterday, and yes I am actually thoroughly enjoying all the fans from other countries living their best lives. I love the Norwegian rowing chant, and watching the international fans all dance and sing and cheer and do their traditional chants has been absolutely delightful. I don’t remember the World Cup from 1994, the last time it was here, but that was also pre-Internet and social media. (I also love watching Europeans talk about why so many of us don’t have passports–“Because you never have to leave to experience a different culture, landscape, weather!” I love that the diversity of each state from one another fascinates them. I also watched a group of English guys driving from Dallas to Nashville; one mentioned it was a longer drive from the top of Scotland to the bottom of England) I’ve also enjoyed the hell out of Freddya78’s voyage through the US and reactions to everything he sees. I do have to confess, though, my favorite of all the fan reactions is the cute Italian guy thrilled to death by free refills on soda, or his shock at the size of a Whataburger medium cup. The tourists were originally joking about the “FIFA 15,” like the “freshmen 15” in college, only they’ve now upgraded it to the “Fifa 50.” I also love how the American culture they are enjoying so much is the stuff we take for granted and don’t give a second thought to–I only eat fast food, as a general rule, when I am on the road or as a “I don’t feel like making lunch” thing. I never go to a Chili’s or the Cheesecake Factory or any place like that; I live in New Orleans and I like to actually cook, but it does my heart no amount of good seeing them loving their stay here so much.

Also, loved the joy in New York when the Knicks won. These things always remind me of the year the Saints won the Super Bowl, and what an amazing time in New Orleans that was. We need more joy in this country, seriously.

And on that note, tis time for me to head into the spice mines. I am going to take my coffee and read for a bit before I take a shower, and hopefully will spend some time on my work space and the kitchen today as well. May you have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

O Mighty Isis! Relief at Karnak

Out a Touch

Tuesday morning, after a busy and overcast Monday. I had to do my bimonthly injection yesterday morning, which went without a hitch, and this time I wouldn’t have even remembered it was coming up if I hadn’t seen my specialist last week. (This is good news, because this was the first time since starting doing this last August that I couldn’t tell about two weeks ahead of time that it was coming due. Huzzah!) It’s nice to know that I can manage the chronic illness I have to live with until I die. I slept decently; very relaxing and restful, but I kept waking up every now and then. I also wasn’t terribly hungry yesterday after the injection, either, but don’t know if those two things are related. We were busy yesterday in the clinic, too, and will be again today before two light days and a slide into a long weekend, which will be lovely.

I forgot to mention that we also watched that documentary, Maternal Instinct, over the weekend and can I just say, what a horrible bunch of people on every level! Everyone involved was essentially a piece of shit. (All I could think about while watching was how conservatives always paint small town/farm country life as “real America“–as opposed to, you know, the urban dwellers who actually drive the engine of the economy? Remember Joe Sixpack and Joe the Plumber and other “real Americans” Sarah Palin and her ilk pushed on us relentlessly? Fuck off now and forever. You just know who everyone in that documentary voted for–you can smell it through the television.) The young woman was a narcissistic psychopath with an unhinged grip on reality. Everyone who enabled her cons–the greedy boyfriend who saw dollar signs, his friends, his mother–are all at least partly responsible for the murder of that poor young woman and her baby. They went along with everything, even past when they knew better, because they thought there would eventually be a pay off, even as that possibility became more and more remote. Horrible, really. (Small towns and rural areas are a lot more like Peyton Place than anyone ever wants to admit. Grace Metalious was right, and she’s still right.)

I was also enormously disappointed to see the San Francisco Giants, of all the MLB teams, welcomed homophobia into the dugout for Pride Night. Speaking of right-wing bullshit, am I right? Oooh, those poor big men who get paid a shit ton of money to play a children’s game had their little delicate masculine he-man fee-fees hurt, and anyone who believes that had anything to do with Christianity is literally too stupid to engage with. It’s pretty sad that we look up to athletes as role models in the first place when so many of them clearly aren’t (Carter Hart, anyone?), but it’s hilarious to me how many men’s masculinity is so fragile and weak that it turns toxic, like those four needle-dicks who’ve never brought a woman to orgasm and never will and moreover, wouldn’t care. We learned a lot about the Giants organization and their players on Pride Night, and as far as I am concerned I hope they never win a pennant ever again. The team condoned it, so everyone from the owners to the batboys are complicit in homophobia. Nice look for a team that represents SAN FUCKING FRANCISCO.1

Remind me why Pride isn’t necessary anymore?

I was also highly amused to see that Hollywood is doing what it always does: missing the point while trying to squeeze every last penny possible out of a trend. The enormous success of Heated Rivalry was a huge surprise to them all–and it wouldn’t have been what it was had an American network been involved…they’re so afraid of gay sexuality and sensuality they would have turned Shane into a side piece and Ilya would end up with a woman…and his relationship with women would gotten a lot more air time. So what lesson did Hollywood learn from the gay hockey show? People want more hockey romance! Hockey is the key! So, instead of more gay romances, we’re getting a shit ton of straight ones about hockey. And if the new straight hockey romances (which won’t have any of the sexual assaults and misogyny straight hockey players are known for–I’ve not forgotten the US Olympic Men’s Team’s shenanigans, have you?) fail? They’ll consider Heated Rivalry an outlier.

Juneteenth is this weekend, and it’s more than just another federal holiday. I guarantee every white racist bitching and whining about it plans to not take the day off with pay and is going to work all day, right? If you take the day off with pay you’ve surrendered your right to complain about it. See how that works? You’re free to not participate. Do some heavy labor, that’ll teach the wokesters!

Honestly, the decline and fall of the American empire is so deserved.

I did do some writing yesterday, so hurray for that, and I hope to get some done this evening as well. I need to do some chores, though, before I can chill out for the evening.

And on that note, tis off to the spice mines for me. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and here’s hoping it includes tacos! See you tomorrow!

  1. The funniest thing to me is straight white male homophobes, always so scared a gay man might actually, hit on them or something, are inevitably the ugliest unfuckable things you’ll ever see–and you know they don’t wash their ass. Dream on, bitches. ↩︎

Promises in the Dark

Monday and back to the office with me today. Friday is a holiday, which is lovely, and the next two weeks are short ones for me, too.

I think we’re going to be busy in the clinic this week and short-handed, but it’s a four day week with a lovely holiday on Friday. Yesterday was nice and relaxing. I wrote a bit, read a bit, and cleaned up a bit. I made my mash-up Swedish meatballs stroganoff, and this batch turned out well–even though I forgot to put shallots in the sauce or garnish with diced green onions. I also used the Maldon salt and beef bone broth, too, which also kicked in the flavor even more. They will make wonderful leftovers for work today, too. They always taste better the second day. Lucky me! I also slept well, and feel rested an ready for a new work week. Huzzah? My coffee is good, and on the way home from work tonight I have to get a few things at the grocery store. The car has a full tank so I don’t need to worry about gas until I leave next week. We are pretty well-stocked over all, and of course, I get paid again on Wednesday.

I published another newsletter, about The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which you can read by clicking right here. I have a few more entries to do this month, and I am thinking about writing one to close out the month that will help lead into more essays about masculinity and being a sexual suspect in these United States. According to the weather report, we are supposed to be inundated with rain this morning, and the rest of the day is going to be cloudy and overcast. I took out the trash last night, and gasped when I went outside, the air was so damned thick and damp and hot and heavy. We also binged the second season of Running Point, which is kind of Ted Lasso-like if the show primarily focused on Rebecca, and we really enjoyed it. We also watched this week’s episode of Cape Fear, which is very well-cast and very well done. I’m not really sure where this all is going–it’s not the plot I remember from the book or the movies, but my memory isn’t the best, but so far it seems like the only similarities is the wife is a lawyer who convicted Max Cady (instead of the husband) and they have a son as well as the daughter. Juliette Lewis popped in for this most recent episode, which was, honestly, a nice touch.

I’m not loving the show, though. It’s shot very well, the actors are stellar, but…it’s not gripping me the way a thriller should, but maybe it’s because it’s a slow-burn? I’ll keep watching, of course, for the cast and the production values but they need to get this train moving soon.

I also wrote some this weekend. I started two more projects–just to get them out of my mind–and made some progress on some short stories I am working on. It’s nice, so very nice, to be into creating and writing again. This is what I love–not the conventions or book signings or promotion or any of the marketing side of being a writer; but maybe that will change with the anxiety finally under control. I also think I’m doing good work; I’m trying to write in the present tense more than the past, which is my comfort zone and my default; I always have to go back and correct the tenses.

I feel good this morning, too. It’s going to be a good week, at least it already feels like a good one.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader!

Evil Genius

Sunday morning, and how are you doing this morning, Constant Reader? Yesterday was actually quite a lovely day, and yes, I did manage to get quite a bit accomplished. I got up a little later than usual, did some chores around the house in the morning, got cleaned up and ran errands. I bought gas at Harmony Circle; $3.79 per gallon (and how sad is it that was a relief? Sure, it was all “economic anxiety.” Bitch, please.), bought more pens at Office Depot, picked up the dry cleaning before heading uptown to get the mail, and then swung by to make groceries. I also ordered things for delivery, so we are now all stocked up for quite a while, at least. I was exhausted when I got home; the heat and humidity were incredibly oppressive. Yes, I know where I live, but this was more like late August in the peak of the dog days of summer rather than mid-June. That heat just sucks the life and energy right out of you the way cold weather can drain a car battery. But it felt good to feel good and get all of that done, and it really didn’t take terribly long, either.

I also spent, all told, nearly three hundred dollars on groceries over four stores. Seriously.

Fuck everyone who didn’t vote for the weird laugh lady. Seriously. Now and forever.

But it was a good day. We had a marvelous rainstorm yesterday afternoon, and I cooked out once it was over. I also had a delicious slice of Creole tomato on my bacon cheeseburger; I pity everyone who doesn’t have easy access to them during the season. I did get some cleaning done in the kitchen, but not nearly enough so I will have to spend some time working on that today. But I feel great about the weekend and I feel great about the work I’m doing, too. It feels weird because I also have free time at the same time I’m writing, which is something I’m not used to.

I also kind of just let my mind wander free and I wound up starting this horrible little short story called “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider.” I don’t know where it came from, but I’d had the title in my head for a few days for some reason (I honestly don’t know, but my brain skitters around in an almost constant free flowing stream of consciousness that flashes by so quickly I often don’t remember where the thoughts that stick come from) and scribbled the title down. I saw it again yesterday, heard the nursery rhyme in my head, and had the most twisted thought…so I started writing it. I also realized that perhaps the reason I’ve never had much success as a horror writer is because I am afraid to let my mind go and be as freaky and wild as it can possibly get. (I’ve been wanting to write more horror lately, and…I have the time now, so why not?) I also spent a lot of time wanting to be a horror writer in my twenties; my first three young adult novels were horror of a sort, and I did write those in the early 1990s.

Today’s Washington weather looks pretty amazing, actually, he typed with a smirk on his face. No rain for us today, but we’ll get some thunderstorms tomorrow. Today I need to do some writing and reading, and cleaning for sure. I want to make Swedish meatballs for dinner; and that’s going to make a mess for sure. Since Creole tomatoes are back in season, I had one of my marvelous grilled cheese yesterday–with a diced slice of tomato, some bacon, and guacamole, using Maldon garlic salt for seasoning. My God, was that thing delicious. We also got all the way caught up on Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which is actually quite good; Tatiana Maslany slays, as always, in the lead.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hope your Sunday is as marvelous as you, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early, as I return to the office. And of course, Happy Pride to everyone.

The majesty of Yosemite

We Belong

Saturday in New Orleans and tonight is the Pride parade in the French Quarter. I won’t be heading down there, since we don’t have a booth there this year for work (at least not that I am aware of) nor are we passing out condoms or testing. We might be, but since I am always needed in the office four days a week at least for the clinic they tend to not ask me to do any events outside of business hours. I had a lovely and restful day working at home yesterday, doing quality assurance on forms until such time as my eyes were crossing and my brain was hurting a bit. Periodically having to take a break to deal with laundering the bed linens and the other laundry helped push that moment back further and further, which was also lovely. We also had thunder, but no storms! I didn’t run any errands yesterday. I will do that today, as well as have some things delivered. I got up early yesterday morning, even before His Majesty came up to let me know he was hungry, and was able to get moving on things earlier than usual. I also felt pretty good, if low energy, but the coffee and breakfast definitely helped with that. It is supposed to rain this afternoon–major thunderstorm around one, then showers the rest of the day–making it a terrific day to run errands and get safely home before the weather turns.

I came up with a short story idea out of nowhere yesterday, with a funny title, and it’s got Jem, my character from Death Drop, in it, and that’s also kind of fun. The entire concept behind it is actually kind of funny, and Jem’s droll sense of humor should make it even more fun to write. I also worked on the book some (I know! Madness!), which is really funny because I really did think yesterday morning before I showered that I still was dragging a bit so getting my day job work done would be enough of an accomplishment…and that all turned around on me, didn’t it? Huzzah! It feels so good, so right, to be writing again. I’ve truly missed it, and I’ve missed enjoying it even more than that! I don’t know what I am going to do with the story should I manage to finish it, but that’s part of the fun. I also worked on the book (I know, right?) a bit yesterday and hope to get a bit more written over this weekend. This week is also Juneteenth, so I have a three day weekend next, and the week after I am meeting Dad in Alabama for their anniversary, and the next week is the 4th.

Sparky let me sleep late this morning, which I do appreciate. I feel pretty rested and good today. I am going to go get gas this morning, pick up the dry cleaning, get the mail, and make a grocery run while ordering other things to be delivered later on today. After I finish and post this I am going to get cleaned up and read for a while. I also have to do some chores–the kitchen and my workspace in particular are in fairly bad shape, and there’s dishes like always. Sigh. But that’s really the thing with life, isn’t it? There’s always the minutiae that has to be kept up with…to quote my late friend Pat Brady, “I just wish someone would take care of the minutiae so I don’t have to.” Amen to that, sister, amen to that.

We started watching Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, with Tatiana Maslany (whom I’ve loved since Orphan Black) and Brandon Flynn (who is unbelievably gorgeous); it’s interesting and Hitchcockian, which I kind of love, an Maslany is terrific as she is in everything. I also want to rewatch this week’s Widow’s Bay because I don’t really remember much of it, so I must have been either tired or distracted while I watched. I would also like to watch Daniel Craig’s Queer, if I can find it streaming this weekend, and of course there’s always The Mummy Returns, which I need to rewatch, and I’ve decided to rewatch and maybe reread Johnny Tremain for the 4th of July this year. I also need to send out a newsletter this weekend; so which one do I want to finish? Questions, questions, questions.

All right, I need another cup of coffee and I need to make some breakfast and get this day underway once and for all. Hope you have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning bright and early. Until then, toodle-oo!

Carlos Alcaraz’ milkshake brings the boys to the tennis court. Photoshoot for Vanity Fair.

Fire and Ice

Work-at-home Friday! Yesterday wasn’t a terrible day, to be honest. I was more low energy than I would have preferred, but I did still manage to get things done, which was so lovely! I picked up a prescription on the way home, and a couple of books I’d ordered, and was home by a fairly decent time. I do have some work to do today, of course, and there’s always cleaning and laundry to get done. But I made progress, you know? I didn’t read or write because I wanted to let my mind rest up for the weekend. Paul was worn out from his physical therapy yesterday, and by the time I got home was ready to lay down and elevate his knee. He’s doing great, which is most pleasing to me, and I’m looking forward to a pretty chill but productive weekend.

I’m pretty proud of myself for mostly sticking to my guns and not impulsively buying books all the time. More books have gone out of the house than have come in this year, so that’s a big win, I think. The books I picked up were Down Cemetery Road by Mick Herron; Language as Liberation by Toni Morrison1; and Stephen King’s Never Flinch. I am years behind on King–so far behind that I don’t know that I can ever catch up, but I do love the character of Holly Gibney. I also would like to get deep into reading Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen (I opened his newest to the front page last night and was utterly charmed; he’s so talented!) and make some headway into a reread of Celebrity.

I also spent some time enjoying watching highlights of the Knicks’ incredible comeback win the other night (I was sound asleep by the time the game ended) and I am really pulling for the Knicks to pull this off, you know? I have always loved New York, and I do love seeing people’s joy being expressed. They booed Baron Harkonnen the other night resoundingly; their mayor is amazing and going to be legendary; and overall, New York just seems to be riding high right now–as opposed to how the country is being run. How can you not root for them if you aren’t a Spurs fan?2

There’s a big blob of tropical mess out in the Gulf right now that is heading for the coastline. I keep seeing its remnants of a named storm (Cristina? BRING ME THE AX!), but I hadn’t been aware there had already been two named ones already. It’s supposed to get here Monday and sending us torrential downpours, thunder and lightning, and street flooding. That means probably excessive heat and humidity for us here in New Orleans until it gets here. Another good reason to leave the house as little as possible and stay inside all weekend. I’ll prune the books some more this weekend, but there’s no need for me to take them to the library sale. Next weekend is the Juneteenth holiday weekend, and of course I will be in Alabama the following weekend, and then its the 4th of July weekend…maybe I won’t prune the books just yet.

And on that note, I think I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here again tomorrow morning. Till then!

  1. I’ve read quite a bit of Dr. Morrison’s fiction, but I really do want to read some of her nonfiction takes on the American literary canon and it’s overwhelming whiteness. ↩︎
  2. And yes, everything he touches does die. He went to the LSU-Alabama game in 2019, only to see Alabama lose at home for the first time in four years. But if there’s even the slightest possibility he can make the sporting event about him…. ↩︎