Saturday morning here in the Lost Apartment and I am feeling rather pleased with myself as I accomplished a great deal. After finishing my work-at-home duties yesterday, Constant Reader, I worked on the filing…and by that, I don’t mean “put files away”–no, I mean I went through the boxes of files in the apartment and cleaned them out. A lot of files are just titles and a quick scribbled note; I got rid of all files for stories/books that didn’t have at least a few paragraphs written; was able to combine duplicate files and pare them down; and I had files of research and ideas for multiple projects spread out over the various file boxes are now all consolidated and together. I still have the filing cabinet to work on, but I still feel like I accomplished quite a bit. Having everything together for the various projects will make working on them that much easier, and it’s exciting to know I went from four and a half boxes of files down to one and a half. GO ME! I also managed to launder all the bed linens, and also a load of dishes. I reorganized my workspace as well, so all in all, a most productive day and one with which I am very pleased. I am going to work on the kitchen cabinets today as well as the file cabinet and workspace. I also have to make a mail and grocery run, need to clean the car, and go to the gym for more arm rehab as well.
Sparky even let me sleep in until nine this morning, wasn’t that kind of the dear boy?
One thing I also noticed yesterday was that I turned on Spotify on the television in the living room while i was organizing the files and it helped me to focus–which reminded me that back in the day, I used to always listen to music while I wrote and it helped me go into the focus zone. Listening to headphones doesn’t quite work for background noise, but the reconnection with music as a tool for focus was wonderful. How could I possibly forget how necessary music was for going into the zone to write, or helped me focus while cleaning? It’s nice to know that I can start remembering methods and tricks that helped me write and zero in on things I was doing with laser-like focus. In some ways, I feel like I am learning how to write all over again, which isn’t a bad thing.
I also realized yesterday that what I have been feeling now for a few weeks is good. It’s been so long since I’ve felt good about anything and have been in a headspace of anything other than just getting through and surviving for so long that I am really not even sure how i managed to write and publish anything between 2016 and now, but oddly enough those books are some of my best work–Bury Me in Shadows, #shedeservedit, A Streetcar Named Murder, Death Drop, Royal Street Reveillon and Mississippi River Mischief, not to mention some of my best short stories. Go figure, right? I also have done some excellent essays during that time, too. Even on auto-pilot, as I dealt with a lot of personal and professional trials for nine years, I still improved as a writer.
Today I am going to work on the book around some more chores and the errands already mentioned, as well as work on the filing cabinet and finish the floors downstairs. There’s a load of dishes to be put away, and more organization in the living room; getting rid of those file boxes opened up space in the living room and I want to work on making the living room look more spacious rather than cramped–and that has a lot to do with paring down the books some more as well…and I haven’t even started on the attic. I also want to spend some time with the Tremblay novel this morning, which I am enjoying but want to get to the next read in my TBR stack–I am going to read two queer novels back to back, I think, and would love to be able to review them by the time Pride Month ends.
And so, on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a delightful Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll most likely be back later.
Work-at-home Friday! Woo-hoo! I have a three day weekend to follow as well; my trip was canceled but I kept the day off. I am hoping for a productive time, but we shall see how it goes. Last night I ran by the post office as I had a delivery sent there by mistake (it was supposed to be sent to the house) and I also had to stop by Office Depot to pick up the supplies I’d ordered. I came home and spent the evening productively! I did a load of laundry, the dishes, and got organized for the book I am writing, and I also started going through old files and chucking many of them that I really don’t need. I also found things that really shouldn’t have been filed away, but a good 70% of two boxes are going into the trash. Some of the ones I am keeping for now will also probably go; in many cases it’s simply.a story idea with a title, and I can just transcribe those into a journal. The goal of decluttering moves onward, and I am quite pleased I got on with this last night–I’ve been meaning to do this since the pandemic hit, and I’ve also become more
I also got my copy of the new Wanda M. Morris novel, What You Leave Behind, which is also an exciting and delightful development. It’s always a cause for rejoicing in the Lost Apartment when the new Morris arrives! Woo-hoo!
Ugh, wordpress is not cooperating this morning so I may not be able to post this as soon as it’s finished, heavy heaving sigh. Why does technology always shoot me in the foot? This is the kind of thing, of course, that used to derail my entire day back before the change in meds, so yay for new meds? It’s also kind of aggravating because the functions aren’t working properly, and while irritating, I refuse to allow this to derail the day. This doesn’t have to be posted this morning, and in a worst case scenario, it’ll be later today. How horrible, right?
I do have some work at home duties to do, and I do need to run some errands later–prescription, groceries–and I also need to do some rehab on the arm today at the gym, but I can put that off until later. I do want to get rid of some more files today. It would be lovely to get that taken care of and those multiple file boxes removed from the living room. I also need to go through my filing cabinet, as I am certain there are even more ancient files in there that no longer need keeping, either, and I can hopefully get almost all of the files combined and compressed into one place. I also want to clean the hell out of the kitchen this weekend, too–including moving furniture as well as cleaning out and organizing the kitchen cabinets and drawers. I’d love to take down boxes from the attic, too, and start getting that cleaned out as well to make room for other storage that can be moved from the apartment up there to help bring the clutter down. I also want to really do something with the beneath the counter cabinets, too.
God, I am so exciting, how can you stand it?
On that note, I am going to get some more coffee and something else to eat. WordPress is still being a bitch, so this will have to go up later. I am also sure some Pride posts will pop out later on today as well. Have a lovely Friday!
Good morning! How is everyone feeling on this day after the holiday? I feel good, actually, and very well-rested this morning and ready to get through my last day in the officer for the week, which feels kind of weird. I did some more thinking about writing yesterday, primarily how to structure the second chapter so we learn more about the main character’s past without getting bored, which is always the worry. I also cleaned up and did chores around here, so tomorrow I won’t be playing catch-up on everything heading into the weekend. I still have Monday off, which is going to be another lovely at-home day–and will shorten the week dramatically, which is nice.
Paul worked at home yesterday but rarely came downstairs; it’s weird how we can both be home all day and not see each other a lot. We need our plumber to come in and do some repair work; the sink upstairs isn’t draining, there’s an issue with the shower, and of course the garbage disposal/dishwasher situation needs resolving as well, which will be great to get all fixed now. Yay! It’s just a matter of when Randy has time to come out and work on it all.
I read for a while yesterday morning; Horror Movie is quite good, and am looking forward to spending some more time with it this weekend. I also should be reading queer writers this month, and it does not speak well of me that it took me this long into the month to realize and recognize that. Bad gay, bad gay! I will resolve that by reading the new John Copenhaver, and I may make July my Queer Reading Month. I also worked on one of my Pride posts yesterday but didn’t finish it. I’ll try to get another one done today–International Male catalogues would be a good one, especially since they are no longer in business; it’s an important part of gay male fashion history, isn’t it? I did spend a good part of the day watching old “what the 1970s were like” videos–pop culture and some news, mostly; but it’s nice to be reminded of things like old commercial jingles, or what fast food work uniforms looked like, and what movies/television shows were being released and were in the zeitgeist.
In other “Louisiana is becoming a Puritan dictatorship” news, our shitbird governor signed a bill requiring the Ten Commandments be displayed in every public school classroom in the state. Never mind that Roy Moore tried this shit in Alabama only to get slapped around for it by SCOTUS, but there’s no doubt in my mind that the Christofascists running that branch of the government would uphold this law. The idiocy of this, not only on a Constitutional level but a Christian one as well; it’s basically apostasy and everything Jesus warned about in the New Testament, but of course all the people who think they are decent human beings only because of a fear of going to hell are also into ostentatious displays of their faith–because it is so hollow no one will know they are Christians from how they behave and how they treat people, which is how you are supposed to bear witness.
Not to mention that they should believe that they have a new covenant with God through Jesus, and the Old Testament’s rules and edicts about behavior are the old covenant; so why would you show your devotion to Christ by displaying relics of the old one? Which Jesus had nothing to do with it? Again, it’s very hard to take Christians seriously when they don’t even understand their own faith, you know?
Not to mention there will be lawsuits–which Governor Landry “can’t wait” to be sued. Um, that’s Louisiana taxpayer money you will be using to defend these unconstitutional laws, and while his Bible-thumping is playing well with the racist cosplay Christians of the state, the ones who’ve never read or studied their Bible but do what their preacher says, I’m going to say his popularity will undoubtedly crest within the next two years and people are going to start turning on him, as they did with Bobby Jindal. Louisiana votes may not be the brightest bulbs in the chandelier, but they eventually see through charlatans who tell them what they want to hear and do nothing for them. Jindal and David Vitter both found that out the hard way.
And hilariously, they don’t even follow the Ten Commandments themselves. What is a cross if not a graven image? How many of them take the Lord’s name in vain (which isn’t saying god damn it or Jesus fucking Christ, but rather false prayer or using the Lord’s name for something false–like claiming to know God’s will)? How many of them bear false witness? How many of them honor their parents? How many of them condone or look the other way from adultery? And on and on it goes; in fact, placing the Ten Commandments in classrooms–indoctrination–is actually taking the Lord’s name in vain.
So many “christians” (like our governor) love to take the Lord’s name in vain and are in for a big shock when they reach the pearly gates and find out they were self-righteous, not righteous in the Lord.
And yes, I speak evangelical.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again later.
Well, here we are at home on a Wednesday for a midweek holiday1. Huzzah? It was nice not to set the alarm for this morning (the Sparky alarm never needs setting; but I got up and went back to bed) and I feel very rested and good today. I felt discombobulated all day yesterday, alas; a day off on Wednesday with payday on Tuesday really fucked with my head all day. I made a small grocery run on the way home (still spent $96, though), and now am just going to kick back and relax today. I didn’t really physically write anything last night I did think about structuring the next chapter, and I am looking forward to getting to work on that today. I am also going to read today for a bit and I also intend to clean up a bit. Now that the Florida trip has been canceled, I still have Monday off so I get a stay-at-home long weekend and thus another day to really focus on the apartment, reading, and writing.
My coffee is going down easily and well this morning and is also quite tasty. I had thought about making cappuccinos this morning, as it has been a hot minute, but after I clean up everything I may get the machines out for tomorrow morning. It’s been a long time and I do love my homemade cappuccinos, but this morning I am going to stick to coffee. I have a load of laundry to fold and a dishwasher to unload and reload; and I may even try to fix the garbage disposal. I am going to the gym later to do some more rehab work on my arm, and then of course I will come home to chill out for the rest of the evening and maybe watch a movie or something; that Dev Patel movie is available to stream and I do think he’s marvelous, so that may be on the schedule for this evening. We also need to find another show to stream. Such a tough life, right?
I’ve also been thinking a lot about these pride/Greg’s gay past posts, and some of the ones I’ve been drafting are unnecessary, and still others cross over into more in-depth personal essays for my Substack, which is how I’ve decided to divide things up. This place will be the same as always, and those posts will be both here and Substack. Once the audience at Substack picks up–and it is growing, surprisingly enough–then it will become the place for personal essays that I will share to social media…although I am now wondering if it’s best to start sharing them from Substack to social media to build the audience? You see why I am so bad at this; I can never decide what is the right thing to do because I really have no clue. My career has always been about being in the right place at the right time and blundering my way through the last twenty-two years, which is part of the reason why the Imposter Syndrome hits so hard when it comes. But I’m enjoying myself with Never Kiss a Stranger so far, and it’s very cool to feel that way again, and to even look forward to getting back to work on it rather than seeing it as an odious chore.
I also need to make/update my to-do list since I’ll be home over the weekend and it’s a three day one for me.
Ugh, and the filing. I definitely need to do a deep clean of this messy office space/kitchen. But sitting here wasting time while drinking coffee isn’t going to get me anywhere, so I am going to head into the spice mines, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later. I do have several blog posts to work on and I may post some of them later on today. Have a great Juneteenth, my friend, and I’ll catch you again later.
Juneteenth, and I am delighted that we observe this at work now. I’d say a high percentage of the staff are Black, and if we celebrate independence day for white people, we definitely should celebrate independence day for Black people in this country as it was the closing of one hideously dark chapter in US history…granted, it was the opening of a not quite as dark and hideous chapter, but it was definitely progress. ↩︎
Well, we survived Monday, and it was in doubt there for a moment. I had some serious trouble getting motivated yesterday morning in order to leave the house for work, but I did eventually get out and on my way to work, and I had a pretty decent day there, too. It rained almost all day; it was hot and humid in the morning when I left for the office, but by mid-morning the city was being soaked by an almost constant stream of clouds throughout the day. Sigh. All I wanted to do was go back home and get under my blankets, but no such luck on that score, alas.
The most exciting news is yes, I did start writing my new book yesterday. Clocked in three thousand words on Chapter One, and it all flowed really easily. Granted, this project has been in my head for years–I think I wrote the first draft of the novella somewhere in the last ten years or so–but I am excited. I’ve been working on it for about a week now, doing the structural work behind the scenes of the story while also chopping up what was in the novella back into chapters. I am very excited to be working on this book for any number of reasons (not the least of which being that I’ve not worked on a book in a very long time) and it’s a departure from my usual. Sure, there’s crimes and stuff and New Orleans sweltering in a very hot summer, but it’s more ambitious of a story than I’ve tried in a while and I also am going to use dance songs as chapter titles, which is kind of cool. I am pleased with the work I’ve gotten done yesterday, and the direction the book is shaping up to take. It’s so lovely to be excited about writing again, you know?
I slept well last night–it rained all night, which meant the air was cool and damp and it felt amazing under my blankets. I am waking up now, which is nice–I feel very rested, even if my lower back is still a bit tight and sore–and my coffee is going down smoothly. It’s weird to have tomorrow off, and it’s even weirder that today is Pay-the-Bills Day, since tomorrow is a holiday. Such a weird week this is turning out to be on that score. And in a few weeks, I believe the 4th is a Thursday, so I might take that Friday off as well.
We did watch House of the Dragon last night, which was fun. I like how they’ve changed the opening credits to not be so similar to Game of Thrones, separating the show from the original but still connected. I don’t love this show the way we did the original, but it’s entertaining enough, and of course, dragons. I also suppose it’s not quite as compelling because we know the Targaryens eventually lose the Iron Throne and this civil war was the beginning of their end, and the end of the dragons until Danaerys.
Tonight after work I have to run some errands: a quick grocery run and a stop at the post office. I am planning on writing tonight–I really am excited about the this book, and it’s nice to be excited to be working again, you have no idea–and I also need to figure out some more pride posts. I’ve drafted a few ideas here, but am not really certain if some of the ideas I have are worth pursuing, so I need to think about them some more. It would also be nice to do some reading tonight after writing, too. (Tomorrow I will read, write, clean and go to the gym.) I’m actually looking forward to this day off, you know? Very strange and peculiar, but this week was going to be weird and feel off anyway, and a trip to Florida over the weekend. I checked the weather and it’s going to be rainy and overcast the entire weekend over there, but sunny and hot in New Orleans. Go figure. I should also probably check the tropical weather tracker; yesterday the system in the Bay of Campeche was moved from possible to potential cyclone status, and check the path as well. It was predicted for east Texas coast/Mexico yesterday….and that’s what it’s going to do. There’s one off the coast of Florida heading towards land, but it has very low chances of developing into anything before landfall. Christ, it’s so early in the season already to be worrying about storm tracks and so forth, and I hate the entire idea of evacuating again. Heavy sigh.
And I took a moment to check my email, and there was one from Dad, cancelling this weekend because my aunt is having some health issues. Ah, well, I’ll keep Monday off and treat myself to a nice three day weekend.
Which is a good time to bring this to a close. Happy Juneteenth Eve, everyone, and I’ll probably be later.
Ah, the gay obsession with muscular bodies. It goes way back into the past; the Greeks always showed men in their art to illustrate perfection—gods and heroes—as muscular and lean and physically proportioned. The emergence of gay artists during the Renaissance sparked a revival of an ideal male form since they took most of their inspiration from the classical art of ancient Greece and Rome (which essentially plagiarized almost everything of Greek culture). Leonardo and Michelangelo and other great artists, regardless of sexual orientation, always somehow got away with depicting nudes etc in art by using Biblical or other mythological sources; the influence of queer artists can be seen in every cathedral in Europe—look for the nudes. (I’ve always loved that Michelangelo painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with hot male nudes depicting Bible scenes.)
And of course, Michelangelo’s David set a standard for male physical beauty for centuries.
I often wonder how much cultural and societal influences impact our own tastes. I’ve often mentioned how I don’t have a type; people always assumed I did, but I never have. I appreciate men I find beautiful, of course, but just because I find aesthetic beauty in someone has never meant I wanted to fuck them. I’ve always been attracted to all different types. My attraction to bears, for example, I know comes from a childhood obsession with professional wrestlers (which will be addressed in another entry, about the evolution of professional wrestlers’ bodies). Anyway, if we are perpetually bombarded images and told this is what is attractive, do we change our tastes?
I’m not going to lie: I have always liked muscles—but they aren’t necessary; no one has to have a perfectly sculpted body with high vascularity for me to find that person attractive. Perfect male physiques have become so ubiquitous now, with OnlyFans and reels and videos and TikToks and so forth; I think it’s great these young men have find a way to make money from their looks, and more power to them…but the more I see those perfect bodies the more humdrum and alike they all start to look, like The Stepford Hunks (which would also make a good title for a satirical story or novel sometime).
And muscles serve mainly as visuals for fucking, anyway.
The year I turned thirty-three was really the pivotal time, a turning point, in my life.
I was thirty-three and still single, and the only gay relationships I’d had at that point weren’t really relationships; they were, actually, borderline abusive and only served to convince me all the more that I was destined to be alone and miserable–that maybe I was actually better off alone. It was time to make changes…the only thing I had control over was myself–I couldn’t make my job better, I couldn’t improve my finances, and if I was weird-looking in the face, I couldn’t do anything about that either. I was losing my hair and I basically thought you’re too old to find a partner now, so you’re just going to be alone for the rest of your life, so make the most of it.
The first thing I looked at was my physical self. I wasn’t in shape and hadn’t been since I stop cheerleading in college. That was something I could change (I also identified several other areas in which I could change–including my attitude, and started working on those), and so I decided I was going to live healthier. I was getting older (laughable now) and I knew the longer I waited, the harder it would be to change my physical self (as I am finding out now for sure). I had joined gyms before but had never stuck with it more than a week or so, paying them for a membership I didn’t use for at least a year before I could quit–which was also a bad financial decision.
So, rather than joining a gym, I decided to be smarter. I got out the Abs of Steel tape I’d bought and never used (it was still shrink-wrapped) and told myself, okay, if you do this workout three times a week and do push-ups with it, and can do that every week until New Year’s, then I will go ahead and invest in joining a gym again. Any exercise was better than none, three times a week was better than two, twice better than once, and once better than none at all. I wrote that in sharpie on a note card and taped it to my bathroom mirror so I had to see it every time I went in there. I changed the way I ate (simplifying my diet to “nothing with three or more grams of fat per serving”, started drinking skim milk, using fat-free everything and eating more salads and vegetables and turkey sandwiches. I had dropped from 210 pounds in August to 170–and the change was not only dramatic (forty pounds is a lot to lose in slightly less than four months) physically but also emotionally.
And so, I joined a gym.
It was a new, gay gym in Tampa at the time, Metroflex, and it was convenient because it was on my way to work. I could take the work uniform with me, workout, shower, change and head to work. It was very convenient, and I worked out three days a week: Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. My trainer, whose name I forget now, was really good and thorough–he explained things, which was something I’d never ever, not even when I was an athlete back in high school, really understood about working out. And…I started getting into the weeds by reading diet and exercise books.
One thing I did notice, though, as I was losing weight was how differently people treated me. I’d never really paid much attention to it before, other than the way guys in bars would avert their eyes when ours met–which I just took to mean as blech gross why are you even here–and it was hard to get a bartender’s attention. I stayed out of bars when I was doing that first diet-and-exercise change that fall, and when I went back I stopped drinking alcohol, sticking to water but eventually going back to Bud Lite, but once I started going again after the weight loss…I never had to wait for a drink because as soon as I walked up to the bar, the bartender was right there. People smiled at me a lot more. I got treated treated better in restaurants and stores by the staff–even passengers at the airport were friendlier and nicer than they used to be.
I found that to be very interesting from a sociological point of view; a little experiment in human behavior, if you will. Other things started happening, too, all of which was very much a boost to my fragile ego.
And thought about writing an essay called Looks Don’t Matter and Other Lies.
I also liked the attention. I liked being flirted with and bought drinks in gay bars. I loved being treated better, but at the same time I had to be careful. I have some obsessive tendencies–part of the faulty brain wiring–and my tendency to judge myself very harshly was a dangerous combination that led to some really unhealthy habits with food and eating–I often will skip eating without a second thought, and often when I travel I forget to eat, and get sick. I also don’t see myself in the mirror the way I actually look; body dysmorphia. I always worried I was overweight, and I also wanted to get bigger–you see how those two positions are diametrically opposed to each other–but it was all a part of the whole parcel of self-examination and evaluation with the intent to make positive change.
But as my life began to change and improve with my new approach to life (I was also writing again), I attributed a lot of it to the changes wrought by my exercise devotion. I was so much happier, had so much more energy, and felt better overall. I also met and fell in love with my life partner…and realized several things: I did not want to work in the heterosexual world anymore nor did I want to spend a lot of time in it; and the best thing for me to do, the thing that made the most sense, was to become a personal trainer to help other people reset their lives and take a holistic approach to working out—mind, body, spirit—that would be more effective, and also I could charge enough per hour being a trainer that I could do it part time and spend the rest of the day writing.
I was a good trainer, too.
So, that’s what I did. I also started writing a fitness column for the local gay paper, and for other national glossies. It wasn’t the kind of writing I wanted to be doing, but getting a clip file was important for writers starting out back then, and I stayed committed to my own workouts, even after I stopped working as a trainer.
I can also happily say that since I left the travel agency here in New Orleans in 1997, I’ve never worked in a hetero business ever again.
Injuries and getting older have messed up my working out since about 2011, but I am hoping that once I get past this rehab of my arm I will be able to do regular, harder workouts again and get back into better shape.
Yesterday saw a return of the weirdness. I was fatigued and my muscles felt tight when I got up yesterday morning, but as the morning went on I started feeling more mentally awake and less tired, and how does that make sense? I got nothing, seriously. But it was a pretty good day, overall. I was in a good mood at work and was feeling outgoing, chatty and cheerful, which always makes the sessions better. (I’ll talk more about my job at some point later in the month; I generally don’t talk about what I do for any number of reasons, but my day job definitely deserves a Pride Post of its own) I did feel tired when I got home, but I did my chores, which was awesome, and so I don’t have as much clean-up to do today while I work at home. My lower back is stiff this morning, and my legs a little achy, but other than that I feel fine.
And it’s almost the weekend, hip hip hurray!
I worked on a Pride post last night, which was actually a longer-form essay I wanted to write at some point (most of my Pride Posts are actual shorter essays than what they were originally planned to be; I still may expand them out into something longer eventually), and it’s one I am a bit nervous about sharing–it’s the one about body culture within the gay male community. It’s very easy to say something insensitive or thoughtless, which is something I always worry about here. The only people I don’t care about offending are the deplorables, and frankly, I love offending them, or pissing them off because they deserve it for their uncaring hearts. Maybe I overly parse things, but it’s always a good idea to delete something you’re not sure about–because if you aren’t sure it’s offensive to someone, then don’t go public with it, you know?
I was pleased (and very shocked) at first to see the Supreme Court refused to ban abortion pills…until I saw that it was dismissed because the plaintiffs “didn’t have standing to sue” in the first place. So, now all the pro-fetus people need to do is find someone hateful who has standing. My theory is that if your “religious conscience” doesn’t allow you to do certain medical procedures or treatments…well, you shouldn’t be a doctor, period, and besides that, if you put your religion before your education and training, what are the odds that you’re a creationist and thus don’t believe in science? I personally don’t want a doctor that doesn’t believe in evolution or is a creationist. You don’t get to pick and choose which science is real and which isn’t, and besides, aren’t Christians supposed to be caring and loving and free of judgment? Oh yes, I keep forgetting the deplorable Christians don’t follow Jesus and are only cosplaying–but not being called out by the so-called “good” Christians? Then you’re not one of the good ones, you know?
And again, that’s why we have separation of church and state. The failure to understand that basic principle tells me everything I need to know about your patriotism. The only reason this country exists in the first place was because North America served as a refugee camp for Christians escaping religious persecution in their home countries. Not knowing this, or not knowing the Europe was drenched in blood from religious wars for nearly two decades, is no excuse for Christian Nationalism in this country; Christian Nationalism is in fact a betrayal of the basic concepts of the Constitution–but again, they only agree with the parts of the Constitution they can use against others, and of course they’ve done a lovely job of infiltrating the justice system.
And again, this decision by the Supreme Court signaled how they would actually rule–and I also firmly believe that if this wasn’t an election year, they would have upheld the ban, but this SCOTUS is in the tank for MAGA so they are doing their best to help his campaign. It worries me a little how blatant they are being with their increasingly unpopular opinions…common sense would indicate moving more to the center than further right the more unpopular your positions are, but in every case of backlash they not only stand firm but double down, which makes me wonder about the integrity of the election, because the electoral results every year since 2020 would indicate they are destroying themselves and their movement by forcing unpopular policy down the throats of a resisting population.
Heavy thoughts for a Friday morning and my first cup of coffee. Perhaps I should have a second? I am waking up though, the cobwebs are now lifting from my brain and the fatigue seems to be seeping out of my muscles, which is marvelous. I do have to run some errands today, and am dreading heading out into that insane heat today. But I need to get the mail, possibly some things from the grocery store, and pick up a prescription. I really need to wash the car and clean out the inside, but in this heat I don’t know if I can stand being outside that long. It’s not even officially summer yet. There are already two tropical systems out there–one in the Bay of Campeche and the other off the coast of Florida, so it’s going to be a rather long, scary summer. Yay.
And on that note, I am going to go make another cup of coffee, work on the laundry for a bit, and then head on into the spice mines for the day. Y’all have a great Friday; I am not sure if I’ll be back later or not. One never knows!
Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! I am fatigued this morning. I went to the gym on my way home last night, and while these “workouts” seem hardly worthy of the name, the way my muscles feel this morning shows me that oh yes indeed, even as light as the weights are and as few sets I am doing, it definitely still is counting. This is why I have to be patient with the progress and not get ahead of myself. Last night, I was definitely tempted to add more weight and even had to talk myself out of it, feeling like I was wimping out–but how much more fatigue would I be feeling this morning? And yes, I slept like the dead last night, too–another sign. I may take an extra rest day and not go again until Saturday. I was also tired when I got home last night, so I didn’t do much of anything, including chores….so will definitely have to do those tonight when I get home. I picked up the mail yesterday, too, so I can come straight home tonight.
And of course, tomorrow is a work-at-home day. Huzzah!
I had another surprise at the post office yesterday, too–my Nancy Drew The Secret of the Old Clock action figure! It’s pretty cool, and I may save pictures of it for here until after Pride month, because I cannot think of a way to do a Pride post about–you know what? I just thought of a way to do it, so I guess I manifested itself into being. I also managed to get a Pride post done yesterday–Calvin Klein ads–and I have some more on deck, too; I’ll give you some hints about them–Dynasty, party culture, gym culture, etc.–and who knows when I’ll get them finished and posted, but they are definitely in progress.
I also got my copy of a book I read and reread over and over again as a kid: Stranger than Science by Frank Edwards. I am slowly remembering some other things about my childhood–my interests in the occult and the unexplained. There was a lot of this sort of thing when I was growing up in the suburbs of Chicago, and I am not sure why there was so much of this in the late 1960’s/early 1970s, but there was. The Bermuda Triangle was a big thing, and so were pseudo-sciences like Erich von Däniken’s Chariots of the Gods and so on; Thor Heyerdahl was having his adventures proving that Pacific Islanders traveled much further than most believed, and he also was proving Egyptians could have made it to America on papyrus boats, which was insane but interesting at the same time. I also loved things like Ripley’s Believe It or Not, which used to be a bigger deal than it is now; weird theories about space alien astronauts and forgotten history–I was really into this sort of thing–lost knowledge has always interested me, and books about recovering lost knowledge (or treasure) were catnip for Gregalicious. I don’t know if this was a natural progression of the 1960s movements, in which we became suspicious of government and less trusting, but the 1970s were a very strange decade, and immersing myself in my memories has been interesting. Anyway, Stranger Than Science is a book telling short tales of real events with no logical or rational explanation (this was where I first learned of spontaneous combustion, for one). Edwards used to have a long-running radio show with the same name and subject matter, and my interest in his book and other unexplained phenomenon (whether true, legend, or a combination of both) had more of an influence on me as a writer than I actually remembered. I’m looking forward to revisiting this book.
I also got Paul Tremblay’s Horror Movie yesterday, and I may be moving it up on the TBR pile. He’s become one of my favorite writers lately–since I read A Head Full of Ghosts a few years back, and I’ve not read anything of his that wasn’t compelling and unputdownable since. (I’m also enjoying Grady Hendrix and Riley Sager these days as well.)
And on that note, I am bringing this to a close so I can head into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Thursday, and look for a Pride post later!
Tuesday morning and my alarm went off this morning–as well as the cat alarm–and so I am up, swilling coffee, and looking forward to my day. I did stop on the way home yesterday to get the mail and went to the gym to do Rehab. It was remarkably smooth, too–I was able to drive there, park easily, get in and out relatively easily, and get home. I feel a bit tired this morning, which is no doubt due to the unexpected rigorous exercise I put my body through last evening, so there’s definitely some muscle fatigue going on. We watched The Hit Man on Netflix, which was interesting and clever enough, and it was filmed in New Orleans–and that was the way to film in New Orleans; AKA, they just filmed it here like it was anywhere else, and didn’t feel the need to “Nawlins” it up (by which I mean constantly saying New Orleans, sending the characters out for beignets all the time, occasional mention of the Saints, etc etc etc), and there was only one scene where I was like, “if you work at UNO and live in Gentilly, why would you drive home via Liberty Circle?” It was a pleasant way to spend the evening, and it was a cute film; actually based on a true story here locally about an undercover cop (really a side gig) who played hit men in sting operations to arrest the person hiring him, and he’s actually good at it. Check it out, it’s a pleasant way to spend two hours.
I did spend some time writing yesterday, which felt good; I am now going to let that sit for a few days before marking it up with the proverbial red pencil (when I first started, you did use a red pencil or ink to mark up your manuscripts) and I am now going to start pulling Never Kiss a Stranger apart in order to piece it back together as a novel. I mean, why not? I love the main character, I love the minor characters, and the story itself is one I really want to tell and share with the world.
I also picked up the mail, and now have my copy of Summer of ’42, which I am hoping to reread relatively soon.
Hilariously, Harrison Butker (aka Hairy Butt) was in the news again lately for “saving” a teammate’s life, who’d gone into cardiac arrest. Turns out all he did was run for help–which, as someone who has been certified in CPR since 1997, I can tell you is the wrong thing to do. You’re supposed to call for help while starting CPR and ordering someone else to go for help, or to keep calling until someone comes. You’re never supposed to leave the person alone; seconds are critical and the longer before compressions starts the more unlikely it is they will be successful, not to mention the cessation of oxygen flow to the brain. Even if he was the person who was sent for help, it was hardly “his” heroism at play here; it’s really not all that heroic to go look for help when someone is having a medical issue. The irony that he got a female trainer to come out and save the man’s life–while getting the headlines for himself about his “heroics”; in many of the pieces the actual trainer’s name wasn’t even mentioned as they masturbated Butker’s fragile ego, as though saying to all of us who found his graduation antics in incredibly poor taste “see what a great guy?”
Given the other option was to let the man die, he literally did the bare minimum, but we’re supposed to call him a hero? No, heroes are my co-workers who run outside to administer NARCAN to an overdose and save lives. It’s become so routine now that no one even thinks about it, but watching my department immediately slip into crisis mode and work together quickly and efficiently to save a life is very impressive, and way more than Hairy Butt ever would do; he’d probably think the OD was God’s will or something.
The bar really is set low for cishet white men, isn’t it? They need praise for everything.
Sigh. The poor, sad, oppressed straight cis white man, right?
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Wish me luck, and I’ll do the same for you, Constant Reader, and there’s going to be a Pride post later, I’m sure.
Monday morning and back to the office with me today; huzzah? It was a nice, lovely weekend around the Lost Apartment, one in which I felt really good about my writing life and resettling into what is the new normal for my life these days. I’ve kind of gotten off the treadmill of endless deadlines and volunteering, and all this lovely extra free time has been spoiling me a bit, which is why I’ve not really been getting anywhere with my writing lately; I’m not used to the luxury of time, and now instead of scheduling my days to within an inch of their lives…I don’t have to do that anymore, and it’s nice. I need to adapt to reading every evening again, and doing some writing before calling it a day and repairing to my easy chair.
I actually overslept this morning. I set my alarm, but forgot completely that the power had been off, taking my alarm setting back to 12:00. Fortunately, Sparky was hungry, and he is relentless when he’s hungry (of course, he has no ability to feed himself, so ignoring him to sleep a little longer is actually kind of mean), and I looked at the clock and was like oh shit that was a close one. So he saved the day, kind of, which is always appreciated. As I sit here swilling coffee, I still have time to get to work on time this morning, despite having to assemble the carrot cheesecake and put the frosting on (I also need to make the frosting; I’m just doing homemade whipped cream–you can never go wrong with whipped cream, ever), and then load it into the cake carrier and hope I don’t have to suddenly slam on the brakes in the car. It’s generally not a great omen to start your work week by oversleeping, but I feel fine and I’ll get to work on time. The morning feels a bit off, but it’ll straighten itself out before long, I am sure. But I made the cake yesterday and pretty much have the mess already cleaned up, so there’s not too much to do once I get home from the gym today. I am thinking about making meatballs when I do, but I don’t know how much trouble I want to go to after the gym (yes, I am stopping at the gym on my way home from work; I even brought clothes to change into), and then it’s home to do some more writing.
I pretty much have decided that the next thing I am going to work on is Never Kiss a Stranger, and I am going to take it from novella to novel. It simply doesn’t work as a novella; one of those “way too much story to condense here” but we’ll see how it goes. I am not limiting myself on how long it’s going to be, and I am also not going to force it to be a novel, either. If there’s only enough story for forty thousand words, I’ll write another and combine them into one book. I also think the Chanse story I was going to write as a novella might actually be a novel, too. I also have another Chanse novel idea that I am going to explore, too. I am also not limiting myself to the Murder in the titles anymore, either.
The “christian” author who came for Dolly last week is really sorry she made everyone mad by claiming Dolly is not a good person because she doesn’t call out sin. Ericka Andersen isn’t sorry for any of her foul, unchristian values and beliefs; she’s just sorry she used Dolly as her example–which is hilarious; her entire piece is predicated on Dolly and her goodness; there’s really no one else she could have used. The backlash is everything she deserves and more; The Federalist also needs to apologize to everyone for running that disgusting hit piece, and whatever editor okayed it is too stupid to work as an editor at any time. Imagine signing off on a piece attacking Dolly Parton for not being Christian enough! Everybody loves Dolly; her icon status is only limited because we haven’t reached the stars yet with the good news of Dolly. Ericka Andersen–an admitted alcoholic who only got sober thanks to God (which begs the question, didn’t God make her an alcoholic? She clearly didn’t learn the lesson She intended Ms. Andersen to learn from her struggle with alcohol)–is the absolute worst kind of Christian, and I hope this follows her for the rest of her life.
Christ, not even Newsmax or OANN would have signed off on that piece. Jesus.
I did have a lovely weekend. It was extremely hot all weekend, so I spent most of the weekend indoors as much as I possibly could. Going to make groceries yesterday was absolutely miserable. I also need to get a window screen thing for my car; it gets so hot inside that it’s miserable getting inside after work, or any time during the summer. The car was so hot yesterday that when I closed the hatch after unloading the groceries I touched the metal and pulled my hand back, almost certain it had been scalded. It was not, but I used the handle after that–and even it was hot to the touch. Yay, and it’s not really summer yet!
We did watch more of The Acolyte last night, and followed that up with Easy A, the movie where I originally fell for Emma Stone, and the movie is very interesting, particularly from a “teen movie” perspective. It owes some to The Scarlet Letter, of course, and maybe what I should do at some point is a “teen movie” blog; how it evolved from the beach movies and Disney family comedies (think Kurt Russell as a teenager) to the teen sex comedies and John Hughes and so forth. But Easy A could have never been filmed back in the 60s and 70s, and probably not even in the 80s or 90s–because female-centered sex comedies are rare, and her character would have been seen as a “bad influence” on teen girls of the time. But the movie also parodies teen rom-coms, too, which elevates it over your average teen movie.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, everyone, and I’ll probably be back later.
Queer and Loathing in America 