Category: health

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

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.

My Sins Are My Savior

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well thus far. I am having a very nice weekend, and I do hope you are having one as well, Constant Reader. I’m hoping for another good day today. I’m not sure what Paul’s plans are for the day, but mine will include finding something new to watch, since we finished Cross yesterday. I am tempted, of course, to start The Vampire Lestat but I’d rather wait to watch it until it’s all finished airing. (I’ve always been a bit of an Anne Rice fan-boy, and her connection to New Orleans was one of the things that originally made me think about living here, after reading The Witching Hour, which I should also revisit sometime.) I quite enjoyed Interview with the Vampire, and I might need to revisit those two seasons as well. I just saw yesterday there will be s fourth season, aptly titled The Queen of the Damned, so maybe the entire series will be filmed for television, which would be kind of cool; I did enjoy some of the later books, too. I also like this cast a lot. Anyway, how could I have forgotten Ride or Die? Clearly that would be the best option for our next watch. Octavia Butler and Hannah Wasddingham? Sign me the fuck up.There’s also another film streaming now that I want to see.

I had some groceries delivered, and made baked potatoes for dinner–so delicious with Kerrygold butter, cheddar cheese, fresh ground black pepper, and Maldon salt, with bacon bits and some chives. We’re both trying to eat not only healthier food but smaller portions as well to take off some weight. I bought a new pair of jeans at Costco on Friday (yes, that’s me, the gay fashion plate), and I’d like to get back down to two hundred pounds again, which I think is do-able. Paul worked out with his trainer and then went to the gym to ride the bike for a few hours. Sparky was cuddly and wanted my lap, and I really wanted to finish reading my book…so I put on the 2022 Alabama-LSU game on Youtube while I read and did some things. I finished the laundry and put away the dishes, ordered some groceries to be delivered, and had a very good day overall, despite the late start. When that game finished I put on 2019 LSU-Florida (which we were actually in the stadium for; it was one of my favorite games I’ve attended–the weather was perfect, the game was lit, and the crowd was on fire).

I actually came up with a working title for the new Scotty as well as the opening to the prologue, and the opening of Chapter One as well–and since I also have the disparate threads of plots decided upon, just not how to really tie them all together as of yet; I thought that was some excellent work on a day where I felt like I was being lazy, to be honest. I’ve been writing in my easy chair on the MacBook Air, and I’m getting more and more used to writing on it, so I have less excuses for not writing, which is a good thing.

I also wrote and sent out a new newsletter, which you can read by clicking here! This time out I talk about Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages, which I finished yesterday and absolutely loved. I think I am going to reread Larry Kramer’s Faggots next, along with getting back to my reread of The Ivy Tree and I think my next new read will be either Wanda Morris’ latest, or maybe something neither gay nor crime, but will pick out a few today to choose from; I do have so many marvelous books I have yet to read. I ordered copies of Emily Wilson’s translations of The Odyssey and The Iliad, and may get around to the Aeneid, too; it’s been a long ass time and my perspective has shiufted since then. There’s also Celebrity, which a friend reminded me of lately, and I had been thinking about writing about because one of the three main characters is a deeply closted gay man who is also a major movie star–and what I remember about how his sexuality was depicted is, well, pitiful. the life he was living wasn’t enviable, and was actually horrifically sad. I’d like to reread it, not only to reexamine Mack’s depiction but how the book was structured, which I have always felt was intricately built so would like to deconstruct it some.

We also watched Masters of the Universe last night. Nicholas Galitzine looks pretty (despite the lack of fur bikini) and Dolph Lundgren (whio played him in the last live action movie) had a cameo close to the beginning. Despite being visually beautiful and cinematic, as well as clever and funny at times, but the story’s not great; it’s a cartoon story that doesn’t really translate well into a live action big budget film. Masters of the Universe was always an infomercial for toys rather than an actual show, and not much creative thought went into it–He-Man? Skeletor? Evilynn? Sorceress? I remember the Saturday morning cartoon was popular while I worked at Toys R Us. I fucking hated working that aisle, and how stupid I thought the kids who were into it had to be to not recognize how basic and simple everything was. They need so little creativity for their entertainments? I saw the original film in the theater, with Dolph Lundgren and Frank Langella, with a very young Courtney Cox (fresh off that Bruce Springsteen video) and her love interest was the guy who’d played Charlie Brent on All My Children (with Lauren Holly as his love interest, no less–Pine Valley had some very good young talent pass through for teen drama storylines). The movie was fun, but Dolph’s cloak concealed his fur bikini too much for my taste. It was fun and silly and not anything I ever needed to watch again…and I feel the same way about this version. Just empty calories, but there’s nothing wrong with that either. There’s also a strong 1980 Flash Gordon aesthetic I appreciate to the movie–there was even a point where Paul started singing “FLASH! Ah ah, savior of the universe!” and I had been literally thinking the same thing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will do the same here in New Orleans. See you tomorrow morning!

The ruins of Fort Livingston on Grand Terre Island; another evocative writing-prompt image!

One Step Away

And here we are on a Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is very well. Yesterday was rather nice, overall. I felt rested and got my work done, ran the Costco errand (and yes, it rather wore me out) and then back home to finish the laundry and rest and relax and cool off. I do feel pretty good this morning, too.

I finally got the idea for the next Scotty book yesterday–as always, I had all these disparate threads I couldn’t see how to bring together, and it all coalesced for me yesterday. Pirates and pirate treasure? The murder of a former friend turned homophobic racist piece of shit? Halloween? Yes, yes, it all came to me yesterday, but now I have to do the necessary research to do it properly. I already have some of it on hand, of course, and this is one of those instances where the history doesn’t have to be 100% accurate, either; one of the problems with New Orleans history is that so much of it is lore and legend arising out of gossip and oral history, with all the problems inherent in said researches. I also need to organize my short story writing, based on submission calls I want to answer; energy will be the key to getting all this done, and now it’s absolutely one hundred percent about being lazy and not forcing myelf to do it when I don’t feel like doing anything other than sitting in my easy mindlessly scrolling through Youtube clips on the news, history, sports…I can get lost in there for hours.

It didn’t seem terribly hot, until I got into the car yesterday. I thought I might melt before the air conditioning began blowing blessedly cold air. Costco was actually rather fun and I didn’t feel in the least bit tired or grumpy–and hadn’t really eaten since breakfast, so the chance of hanger was also highly probable, but no. They had no boxes and Paul was ordering a new pair of glasses, so I loaded everything into the back of the car, and was very hot (I brought insulated bags for the frozen/refrigerated things, which also made them easier to carry into the house.) There was parking in front of the house (huzzah!), but bringing everything in was exhausting and sweat-inducing and yes, was feeling rather nasty by the time I’d put things into the fridge and could collapse for a moment in my chair–which was seen as an invitation by Sparky to curl up in my lap, and of course I couldn’t make a sleeping, comfortable, safe-feeling cat wake up from such a deep slumber. I just let myself accept that I needed rest, and a purring, sleeping cat is just the trick, you know? How do people without cats do without that marvelously restful experience? It’s a bit beyond me, and I don’t intend to ever find out. I spent the evening watching the news and old football clips of LSU (trying to get my excitement for the new season to start amping up until Labor Day weekend) before catching an episode of Sugar before going to bed. I slept marvelously well and even slept a little later than usual this morning. I need to order some groceries to be delivered later on, and we got the mail yesterday so that can wait again until Monday. It’s beginning to look like I won’t need to go outside very much this weekend, and that is a very good thing, as we are back to the dog days of this summer and it’s going to be miserable from now until September.

I’m hoping to have a good day today, one way or the other. Once this is posted I am heading to my easy chair to read for a bit (while putting on a replay of an old LSU game for background noise), and I also want to reread what I have written thus far on an essay for the newsletter as well as Chlorine, so I can get back to writing them both and hopefully finish the essay by the end of the weekend. The ongoing chores (dishes, laundry) are already done, so I can do some chores that I all-too-frequently never manage to get around to. Or not; the day can also be played by ear all day, too, and so who knows what it holds?

I guess Andrew Tate is on solitary but somehow has access to the Internet to post about being in prison? Aw, sucks to be him. Get used to it, buddy, and I don’t think you’re going to do well in general population, but sure, demand it. I’m sure there are any number of young convicts who will be interested in your theories about alpha males. Have fun with that, rapist.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines with my book and another cup of coffee. Have a simply marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back again tomorrow morning.

Carlos Alcaraz for Vanity Fair

Good for the Soul

Work-at-home Friday! Huzzah! I was a bit on the tired side yesterday, which was to be expected. I had to go to work in person every day last week, and I always am a little tired come Thursdays. It was surprisingly pleasant outside when I went to work yesterday morning–in the low eighties–and everything was glistening and wet from the previous night’s rains. The city was also low-key and kind of mellow, too. It was a slow day at the office, and I decided not to head uptown after work to run my few errands, I was a bit tired and I forgot my list, too. I want to get a lot of cleaning and organizing done this weekend, and I also have a lot of quality assurance to get caught up on today. We’re going to go to Costco later , which is also going to be incredibly expensive, especially since it’s been so long since we’ve gone. Over a month, I’d say–or at least since Paul’s surgery, and that was definitely a while back. (I have ordered some things to be delivered from them–not much of anything, really–but supplies are low.) But…the tired wasn’t too bad, I did some chores when I got home, we watched an episode of Cross, and I caught up on the news, which was either not horribly depressing or I’m becoming deadened and desensitized; I’m not sure which. And I came down to a picked-up apartment, and a clean kitchen, so am already off to a good start this morning. The first load of blankets are in the washer, and I need to unload the dishwasher.

I also have chores to do today around the work and the errands, and I would also like to get some writing time in, too. It will, of course, entirely depend on how long everything takes and how tired I het doing everything. It was cool when I left the office yesterday–for this time of year, mind you–and there was a lovely breeze. The car was an oven, though. I did sleep in a bit this morning before Sparky became insistent on being fed. I feel pretty good so far this morning and my coffee is excellent, so no complaints here.

I am missing the World Cup, honestly; what a delightful few weeks that was. I’m very glad that Spain beat Argentina; what a pathetic group of sore losers and dirty players. That great player of theirs (I won’t mention his poor sport ass name) is also a piece of shit, apparently; decades of being ‘the greatest’ etc, only to throw it all away as a poor sport. Always remember the Nazi to Argentina pipeline, and I will always wonder why they made a musical glorifying that fascist grifter Eva Peron. I’ve never gotten a good answer to the question. Some gays don’t like having their theater standards questioned, but why not do one on Imelda Marcos? She actually fancied herself a singer, at least. I am missing the world cup, though. There’s any number of monstrous fascist women in history; did Eva stand out because she started out as a prostitute and actress?

Oh, well, college football will be here before we know it, and then my weekends will be built around college football and the Saints–errands on Fridays and Sundays only, etc. I’m cautiously optimistic about both LSU and the Saints this year, but LSU’s schedule is brutal. Auburn, Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, Texas A&M, Florida and Tennessee, and the opener is Clemson. That’s eight games they could lose, right there. Oh, well. Fingers crossed! Hope always springs eternal down here on the bayou.

I am also hoping that having a “normal” weekend will set me back to normality. I feel good and rested already this morning, which is delightful, and of course my coffee is starting to hit me with its best shot…I should get out the espresso machine this weekend and make myself some cappuccinos, because it’s been a hot hot minute. We’re apparently in a heat advisory all weekend, too, and into next week again. And yes, it would be nice to stay inside all weekend, but I will run those other errands tomorrow, because I don’t think we’ll be out of this heat any time soon.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and wherever you are, stay hydrated! I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow morning, so until then, be safe!

Heracles battling the Hydra. It’s always bugged me that people use his Roman name when talking about Greek mythology; in Greek, his name was HERACLES. In other words, if you’re talking about Zeus and Hera, his nam is Heracles. If you say Hercules, you need to use Jupiter and Juno. (I blame Disney for a lot of this, but it happened before their movie, too.) I’ve also kind of always wanted to write about him, too.

Read My Lips

Thursday, and my last day in the office this week; huzzah! I am kind of looking forward to a work-at-home Friday; I’ve not had one in quite a while. I went to Alabama one Friday, followed by the 4th, followed by a mandatory in person staff meeting, and of course last week was Staff Development Day. I don’t have to get up to the alarm tomorrow, nor do I have to rush around getting ready for the day. Instead I can have my coffee and breakfast, catch up on news, and post a new entry here before checking in for the day. I have a lot of quality assurance to get done for our site visit next week, but I pretty much have my day job under control now; I’ve finally come up with an efficient system that will always have me caught up on some part of the job, which is lovely. I honestly don’t know why I didn’t come up with this system before, frankly.

The weather wasn’t much of anything yesterday, really. The heat advisory was called off in the morning around eleven, and sure, there was some wind of mild concern (but not consequence) and the rain was more of a misty thing once that started in the afternoon; not the kind of insane flooding downpours we usually get; there was no thunder or lightning, which was very strange; we rarely get that kind of a rain. I was a bit on the tired side when I gor home, but I did some chores before being Sparky’s cuddle cushion for a few hours. We watched another episode of Cross, which is definitely holding our interest, but I am really looking forward to the Hannah Waddingham/Octavia Butler action/adventure show that just dropped. And we still haven’t watched the latest seasons of Bridgerton or Stranger Things.

And yet we’re always trying to find something to watch. Sigh. For All Mankind looks interesting, too.

Apparently, George Zimmermann is homeless and has all kinds of mental issues–including PTSD. All these years later, and he still wants to play victim. Aw, maybe you shouldn’t have murdered a teenager that you also stalked first, you racist piece of shit. You got your MAGA fifteen minutes, and now they have abandoned you, like they always do. Kyle Rittenhouse, this is your future, and I love that for you. (The fact that every single one of them thinks they’ll be the exception whose life won’t be destroyed in the end really needs to be studied.)

Our anniversary was Monday and we both forgot! I blame the world’s madness and all the national media terror reporting on tropical storm Bertha (if you want good and not “the world is ending!” hurricane news, your best bet are the local news in New Orleans, Mobile, and Pensacola; Houston also does an excellent job). I told Paul last night and we had a good chuckle. I remembered because I realized yesterday that I’ll be turning sixty-five in less than a month, followed by fuck, our anniversary is a month before my birthday and WE BOTH FORGOT. But as I have said about birthdays and Christmas numerous times before, neither one of us care very much about things like that–and now that both our mothers are dead, both of those holidays mean even less than they did when they were alive, so it’s no surprise that once we reached the thirty-first anniversary we’d not care and completely forget about it. I mean, every day with Paul is marvelous, and I appreciate what we have every day, so we don’t really need to commemorate when it started. I know people think it’s weird, but we are both so alike when it comes to most things that it’s hard for me to ever argue against the whole soul mate relationship theories.

I did feel a bit drained when I got home from work yesterday, probably the subconscious reacting to all the doom watching yesterday. I feel good this morning, but will probably feel tired this afternoon. I am going to run uptown after work to get the mail and do a minor grocery stop (or have it delivered, hmmm) so I can just stay home all weekend. I am hoping to get back on my writing horse tonight and this weekend, too, so we’ll see how it all goes.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a great Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning. Till then!