Category: health

A Teenager in Love

Monday morning and back to the office blog. I did write some yesterday–not nearly enough–and I did get some things done this weekend. I bought blinds for the breakfast nook, but I think they are too small; I may have to exchange them for another, larger set. Which is okay; I can do it after work one night as the Lowe’s is just up Elysian Fields. Tonight after work I have to go to the gym to do PT, and then I’m coming home to do some more writing and cleaning. Paul’s moving into the Monteleone on Wednesday, which means I’ll be here alone with the Sparkster, and also means Sparky will be very needy. He loves the cat treats I got him this weekend, no surprise there, and so I will continue to dole them out for good behavior. I feel rested this morning, which is different from most usual Monday mornings, but I think that has to do with making myself get up early Sunday morning and not sleeping late again the way I did Saturday morning.

Still, that felt amazing.

I feel pretty good this morning, too. The temperature dropped again over night, so there is a bit of a chill in the air this morning. I need to actually look at the program for S&S this weekend so I can put the stuff I am doing on my calendar and can start planning for the weekend. It’ll be weird being home alone for the long weekend (Wednesday thru Monday), but I’ve been a Festival widow since January anyway, so it probably won’t even be noticeable. I’ve also taken Monday off, as it’s always brutal getting up at six in the morning after the Festivals have concluded. It was a little odd this morning, though; Sparky usually comes and starts smacking me in the face with his paw just before the alarm goes off, and continues to do so while purring and cuddling until I get up. He didn’t come out from under the bed until I actually got out of bed, and just followed me downstairs instead of insisting on food immediately. His bowl was completely empty this morning, too.

I did write about a thousand new words on the short story yesterday, but my mind kept wandering and I got up to do something and just never went back. I also edited the 2000 words or so I had already done, so I think it was probably more new words than merely a thousand. It still feels a little rusty for me when I’m writing, but the best way to get past that is to keep writing until it starts to feel natural again and my mind stops wandering when I am writing. That’s the weirdest part. Usually when I write I shut out everything and am laser-focused, that’s not the case anymore and that’s fine.

My mind is still bouncing all over the place, too. It’s trying to spike my anxiety, too, but I just take some deep breaths and calm down, which is a lot easier to do with the new medications.

I did finish reading The Cook by Harry Kressing, which was an interesting and short read. It was a black comedy of sorts, more of a Kafka-esque fable than anything else, but in all honesty I enjoyed the movie version (Something for Everyone) a lot more than I did the book; in the book Conrad seduces everyone with his incredible food and force of will; in the movie, he’s played by a stunningly beautiful young Michael York who actually sexually seduces his prey until he gets what he wants. I will do a more in-depth review of the book at some point, but it does play into my thoughts that Saltburn owes more to that movie than it does The Talented Mr. Ripley or Brideshead Revisited.

We also finished watching season two of The Tourist, which was twisty and clever and fun and we really enjoyed it and are really looking forward to the third season–the second ended with a terrific cliffhanger twist that definitely will make for a fascinating and exciting third season. Plus, Jamie Dornan and Danielle Macdonald have some amazing chemistry together.

I also watched some documentaries last night about Jayne Mansfield, who I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I’m not entirely sure what triggered me to thinking about her again. I first read about her in Earl Wilson’s The Show Business Nobody Knows when I was a teenager, and from there went on to read May Mann’s biography of her, Jayne Mansfield. She was very interesting to me, and was thrilled when her daughter began her career as an actress. I remember thinking Mariska Hargitay? She must be Jayne Mansfield’s daughter because what are the odds of there being two Mariska Hargitays? and watched her for years on Law and Order: SVU. Oh, now I do remember. I bought a copy of the Wilson off ebay because I thought it might be helpful with Chlorine, to give me an idea of what it was like to be in show business in the 1950’s, and of course, he devoted a chapter to her. I bought another bio of her off eBay recently, and she is very interesting, as she always has been to me. I’ve only seen one film of hers, Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter, which I thought was hilarious and she was fantastic in it. Benjamin Dreyer brought her up on one of the social media channels this weekend, and so I thought I’d find what I could of her on Youtube. Her story was actually perfect for someone like Jackie Collins or Jacqueline Susann to have written a huge trashy novel about, I’ve always thought. I also loved that she was actually–despite her image as a sexy dumb blonde–incredibly smart, almost genius level. And she only worked in show business for about ten years–while having four children, too, and keeping that incredible figure.

It’s funny; I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, Constant Reader, but I generally use song titles for my blog posts. About twelve years ago it was getting harder and harder to think up song titles organically, so I started using themes–Stevie Nicks songs, Pet Shop Boys songs, top 100 hits of 1977, that sort of thing. I can’t remember now which years I’ve used so I recently went back to the top 100 of 1959, I think; it’s interesting how many titles and songs have to do with teenagers; clearly, modern songwriters don’t have to write about teenage heartbreak anymore to appeal to young listeners. I also started watching Eras: The Taylor Swift Concert Movie, and I have to say I am very impressed. I can’t dedicate three and a half hours to watching it, but putting it on and listening while doing chores is terrific. Her show is amazing–I still have over an hour to watch (and am bummed she didn’t do “Red”) and I am actually looking forward to it. I also love how much right-wingers hate her.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day Constant Reader, and I may be back later, you never can be sure. I’m tricky that way!

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Saturday morning and I was exhausted, not rising up out of bed until well past eight. Sparky tried to get me up (five a.m. for food; he doesn’t recognize Daylight Savings Time) several times–I did get up to feed him at six–before giving up and curling up to my side and going to sleep. I could hardly disturb him by getting up, could I? Plus I still felt very tired, exhausted, until I finally did get up. PT was particularly intense yesterday–I had a new therapist who was filling in for my regular–and she was just stunned, repeatedly, at how well I was doing and how strong I was, which was really nice. She kept commenting on it the entire time, which was a lovely thing for my ego and only encouraged me to keep pushing harder. I came home, worked, did some chores around here. and then ran a couple of errands after the work was done. I was exhausted (I think I did seven loads of laundry? It had built up and Friday is when I do the bed linens), and just collapsed into my chair. I finished watching Feud–I didn’t think last week’s was the final, if it did indeed end with him dying–and then watched LSU’s gymnastics team trounce North Carolina in their last meet of the season (SEC meet is next weekend) before watching this week’s Abbott Elementary and retiring to bed, exhausted. I have a busy day ahead of me–reading, writing, errands, other chores–and my house is also a mess, sigh. But I’m not going to allow all the things I need to get done to overwhelm me and thus guarantee none of it will get done.

And I definitely need to make groceries.

But I do feel tired–fatigued–in my muscles. The shoulders are fatigued, and so are my legs and my lower back feels a bit tight. Fortunately I bought that hand-held massage device (which can’t be used as a vibrator, get your head out of the gutter), so I think I am going to use it and that foam back roller today, maybe stretching a bit will help the leg fatigue. I also am going to get cleaned up this morning–shaving the face and head, which I don’t keep up with as much as I should, bad Gregalicious, bad Gregalicious. I need to get to work on myself more than anything else, and need to stop thinking “meh, good enough”. I think later on this year I’m going to have to make a trip to the outlet mall in Gonzalez and get some new clothes–dressier pants and shirts, at any rate–to go with the fancier shoes I have; I’ve never matched outfits to a couple of pairs of Oxfords, which makes wearing them more difficult–bothering my OCD–because the outfits have to be made to somehow match the shoes, and I don’t always succeed. I usually am bored by shopping for clothes; but now that I am thinking about experimenting with style, it actually sounds a bit more intriguing than it ever did before, frankly…and now that I am thinking about it more, that was undoubtedly triggered by my anxiety.

And now that I no longer have the anxiety anymore, maybe shopping for clothes will cease to be an ordeal for me. And I do love argylle.

It’s a very bright and sunny morning here in New Orleans, too–which reminds that I need to size the windows and order blinds, so I should also check on office supplies and maybe order for pick-up or delivery–and so I am feeling like I should be able to get things done today (or it’s the coffee kicking into gear here); we’ll see how it goes and how long my energy lasts–it should be a major grocery run today, but then again Paul won’t be home after Wednesday so…probably not? Heavy sigh. I guess I’ll NOT do a major grocery run today and then add things during the week that we need. I also bought a half-gallon of milk thinking we were out and SURPRISE! There was a half-gallon in the refrigerator already. AH, well.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. I have things that I need to get done this morning, and I also want to read a little bit before I dive into the day headfirst. May your Saturday be amazing and wonderful and cool, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again later.

(Till) I Kissed You

Friday morning work at home and up early for PT blog. I slept very well last night, but didn’t get much of anything done when I got home from work. I wasn’t super tired or anything, but Scooter was feeling needy and the next thing i knew it was time for bedand I’d wasted the entire evening. But that’s okay. I’m not sure why he’s been so needy when I get home the last two nights, but he has been and I don’t mind letting him sleep in my lap so he feels loved. He’s such a darling. He also was cuddling with me in the bed this morning after the alarm started going off. Much as I miss Scooter, I’m glad we rescued this sweet playful boy.

I’ve picked out my next read, and it’s a short one, The Cook by Harry Kressing, which is the book the film Something for Everyone was based on. I think I am getting to the point where I am ready to finish my long-overdue post about Saltburn, and reading the book potentially could be a help on that score. I also want to read some of the other short books I have on hand, and hopefully that will get me deep into reading again. It would be great to spend an hour a day at least reading; the days when I used to compulsively read, and get so involved in a book that I’d blow off everything else I had to do in order to finish it. Heavy sigh. I don’t know why I’m having so much difficulty reading these days; and I do strongly suspect that the two things–inability to read and inability to write much–are very linked together. Something for me to work on this weekend, at any rate.

I had a breakthrough on the story I’ve been struggling to finish writing, and so I am hopeful that today, once I am done with work-at-home duties, will be able to dive right in and get this draft finished. I’d like to edit “When I Die” tonight as well; Lord knows I’ve printed enough hard copies of that damned story in order to get it edited easily enough soon, sheesh. I am debating changing the story a bit–why would they go out into the swamp that night, I am not convinced the reason I gave them in the original draft is good enough–and I am considering changing the make-up of the cast as well; instead of two guys and two girls, maybe three or four guys instead? A fraternity hazing ritual or something? That might be more compelling than what I had written already. I don’t know, really. I guess rereading the story will make a difference, and then start picking it apart.

I also have errands to run this weekend as well, and definitely need to wash the car again. What a glamorous life, right? But the festivals are next weekend, and I won’t be staying in the Quarter because of Sparky–who will definitely be needy–so I am not sure how much I am going to be able to get done then. Heavy heaving sigh.

I do love my new saddle shoes. I wore them to work the other day to break them in (so I can wear them next weekend) and they are so comfortable. I think maybe I am going to try to develop, this late in life, my own sense of style and start wearing the types of clothes I’ve always wanted to. I kind of want a cape coat, like the ones Barnabas wore on the original Dark Shadows, which I’ve always thought looked cool and always wanted. I am also thinking about getting a walking stick for dressier occasions, too. I’ve never really been much into clothes, primarily because I’ve always felt like men’s clothes were always too staid and patriarchal for me, so I never cared. But now that men’s clothes are getting more stylish? Sign me up. I think I want a cape, too, and a denim duster. I love the way younger male celebrities are mixing things up with their formal wear, and trying new styles and looks and I think it’s wonderful; definitely one of the best outcomes from more gender fluidity in society–and really, it’s all just drag, isn’t it?

And I kind of need to be more serious about everything to do with my career. I need to get that website finished, I need to get new author photos done, and of course all kinds of work that needs to be done on the house.

At least I’m thinking about making improvements to my life and everything, right, rather than just coasting along again and letting life happen to me?

So on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, and I may be back later; stranger things have happened.

Charlie Brown

Thursday morning day after Payday blog, in which I just have to get through today before it’s work-at-home Friday again. I feel rested this morning, something I’ve noticed in the last couple of weeks: by the end of the week I feel better than I do at the beginning, and it’s easier to get up. Peculiar, isn’t it? I certainly don’t get it.

It was about four years ago that the pandemic shut down the world. It seems like it was about a million years ago, doesn’t it? (And it makes me laugh every time idiotic MAGA trash ask “are you better off than you were four years ago?” Yes, yes, a million times yes, you memory-impaired inbred morons.) I remember coming to work that morning with no idea what was going on or what was about to happen. They were putting up shields around the front desk in the lobby and everything was being wiped down with bleach. I sat down at my computer and started doing some work when the announcement came that we were shutting down the entire building and closing off services and to go home. I was stunned, because the only time this ever happened was when a storm was coming in from the Gulf and the city needed to evacuate. I don’t even remember going home that day, but I do remember making hundreds and hundreds of condom packs while watching movies and rereading old books to get reading again. Christ, what a nightmare.

So yes, I am better off than I was four years ago. You’ll need to do far better than that to get me to change my vote–far far better.

I did finish my rather long blog post about the Left Coast Crime incident, but am hesitant to pull the trigger and take it public. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with it, because there’s still very much a lot of centering myself in a conversation about race…but it was my race that was being questioned; and I am still not sure how I feel about the whole thing. On the one hand, how do I write about an experience I had without putting myself into the center? On the other, isn’t it tiresome when white people make racism about themselves? I also worry that I am not being sensitive enough. I know that part of the shock of the whole thing is really because my white privilege was challenged (I do enjoy born-with-a-penis privilege until I open my mouth and my Louis Vuitton clutch falls out).

I’ll post it later today most likely, and take the slings and arrows that may come my way.

Sparky was very needy yesterday when I got home from work. He climbed up onto my shoulders and cuddled and gave me head butts, and then when I sat down in my chair (after doing some chores) to let him sleep in my lap…he stayed there until Paul got home at nine! I did write a bit more on my story, and I also realized one of the problems I was having with it was making it long enough, because in my head I always want a short story to be around five thousand words. Not every story needs to be five thousand words, Gregalicious. Seriously, sometimes it’s hard to believe that I am in the twenty-third year of my career as a fiction writer…which is also a third of my life. Wow. The world was certainly a different place when I first got started, isn’t it?

The beauty of writing is there is no right or wrong way to do it as long as the finished product is good. I get these weirdly dogmatic mentalities about writing fiction–“a short story needs to be 5k, a novel minimum of 80k”–it’s not carved onto tablets brought down from Mount Sinai–and get past that kind of stuff. But that’s the logical, everything needs to be neat and tidy part of my brain that often triggered my anxiety, and it does feel good to not be anxious the way I used to be. I also think I’ve convinced myself that my creative batteries are dead and need to be recharged. I was thinking this morning–as is my wont–that when and if I get this book done, I am going to go back to working on Chlorine and try to get it–as well as Muscles–finished. I really do need to finish all this stuff. I do want to write more Scotty books, but maybe not right away, to be honest, although I do feel like time is slipping away, but who cares if the Scotty books going forward are kind of set in the past? The older ones certainly are.

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

My Heart Is an Open Book

Well, yesterday was a pretty good day overall, I think. I managed to get some writing done (about a thousand or so words, give or take) which felt amazing, if too little; and of course I went to PT after work and it actually felt good. I think the working out after therapy is going to actually take hold this time? Of course, it remains to be seen what else life is going to throw at me in the meantime, but I feel pretty good about things, overall. After I finish this book I’m writing I may step away for the rest of the year and just live for a while? I’ll still write, and I want to be clear that I am thinking in terms of time off from deadlines, really. It would be nice to finish all these unfinished things I have lying around here, and I’d also like to clean out the physical files at some point in the near future. Operation Declutter is still working, but it’s an ongoing process. I am about to put a moratorium on new books, too, unless it’s a must-read book by a friend. I really need to make more progress on getting through the mountainous TBR stack without consistently adding to it, over and over. Just this week I added Angela Crook’s Hurt Mountain and Amina Akhtar’s Almost Surely Dead and Simone St. George’s Murder Road. The question of what to read next also has not yet been answered, so it may wind up being a reread, which is actually counterproductive–but something that breaks down the wall and gets me reading every day again for pleasure would be pretty fucking fantastic.

My short story that I am writing is starting to take shape, even if my gears have rusted and need to be oiled before I can really get to work on writing again. I like what I am doing with this story–which is more horror/Gothic suspense more than anything else, really, and it’s been a really long time since I finished a story. “When I Die” still needs to be significantly edited and revised, as do so many other things. I need to get working on the book again–I came up with a great name for the Miss Queer Utah queen, but alas, forgot it already. I am actually kind of getting excited this morning to write this book. I saw a news item on social media that DeSantis’ anti-gay legislation essentially got ended by a court decision yesterday–I’ve not read the entire article yet, but it was a “settlement”, which makes it more interesting because surely that would make it a civil case, rather than a criminal one? But anything that gets Rhonda Santis’ panties in a bunch, as well as a massive defeat for his hate-filled agenda (your daily reminder, Moms for Liberty, that real patriots HATE you and your hate agenda; have fun in hell, skanks), will always make me very very happy. I also saw that the West Virginia legislature, under pressure from constituents, dropped (or allowed to die) 21 anti-queer bills.

As Winston Churchill said, “You can always count on Americans to do the right thing–after they’ve exhausted every other possibility.”

I didn’t sleep through the entire night, but woke up a couple of times but in both instances was able to fall back asleep and get some more needed rest, which was awesome. I actually woke up this morning feeling awake rather than foggy, which is simply marvelous to contemplate. Paul was working on a grant last night, so we only got to catch up on this week’s Abbott Elementary, and soon my widowhood will end when the festivals do next weekend (not this weekend) and a dear friend is coming to town this weekend, and I hope to meet her for drinks and a good gossipy catch up. I’ve also learned this morning that when the alarm goes off the first time and Sparky makes his appearance on my pillow, to just get up and feed him…because once he’s eaten, he’ll get back into the bed and cuddle like a sweet purr-kitty, which is lovely. I really have fallen completely in love with this crazy kitty, which makes losing Scooter ever so much easier. Losing him made rescuing Sparky possible, and I imagine I will always have a cat for the rest of my life, maybe even a bonded pair at some point after Sparky goes–assuming, of course, that I will outlive Sparky.

Some more things that I ordered arrived yesterday after I picked up the mail, so I’ll have to swing by there again this afternoon, which is fine. I have to get gas, too, so it makes sense to swing uptown, come back downtown via Tchoupitoulas, and then the Shell on Jackson Avenue on the way home. Tomorrow is also payday, which is lovely–pay-the-bills day, at any rate–and then I need to start prepping for my Saints and Sinners panel. There’s always something to do, isn’t there? I also need to stop by Physiofit and pay my bill, too. I got another camera ticket yesterday, which is super-annoying–but it gave me an idea for a story or a subplot for a Scotty book, so that’s a good thing, right?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will most likely be back again later.

The Happy Organ

I cannot believe today’s title was actually a hit song in 1959. I mean, the jokes here simply write themselves.

Monday morning and back to the office morning blog. It was a curiously relaxing weekend, but my energy levels were up and down the whole time. Last night, of course, when I needed to go to sleep? After two nights of falling asleep in my chair, here I was, having trouble falling asleep. I think it’ll be okay for tonight, though, since I have PT after work. It rained off and on yesterday for most of the day, and the temperature dropped overnight. Absolutely no huzzahs on that front, for sure. I do think not going to do PT last Monday messed up my week significantly, so I definitely have to go tonight. I was very happy to finish reading my book, too. It had been so long since I was able to commit to a book, it was nice to get drawn into one again, even if it did take me over a week to finish. I don’t read as fast as I used to, nor do I write as much or as fast as I used to. This is going to have to be overcome soon enough, but that’s okay. I think my full-fledged deadline panic mode will probably start kicking into gear again at some point this week.

We finished season one of The Tourist last night, and dipped into season two–which looks to be just as good as the first. I don’t know how long this show will be able to keep going on the basic premise that he has no memory of who or what he was before waking up in the hospital in the first episode of season one, and Jamie Dornan is wonderful in the lead role, menacing when called for, but delightfully funny at others. And Danielle Macdonald, who has been delightful in everything I’ve seen her in (including Dumplin’), is doing some really good work as Helen. Highly recommended, even though Dornan isn’t shirtless nearly enough. Dornan should be shirtless at least once per episode. Think of it as “fan service.”

I’ve managed to gain back all the weight I’ve lost since the soft food diet began after Labor Day. This doesn’t please me, to say the least. It’s actually disappointing. But if I am barbecuing burgers on the weekends and/or ordering pizza…it’s not really a surprise. I’ve also gotten my taste for hamburgers back, which is kind of nice. The new dentures have altered my tastes somewhat, but they seem to be shifting back at last, which is nice. Last year was a bit of a slog, wasn’t it? It’s not a surprise that it’s taken me a while to recover from everything–from the arm injury to the dental surgery to the arm surgery to Mom and Scooter dying and this endless war with my insurance company–any one of these things on their own would be leveling; having it all happen within the same year is pretty fucking terrible, frankly. But… I am also a firm believer in having all the bad stuff happen within a certain period of time, because you get so overwhelmed with everything that you really can’t focus on your own misery at any time. But I am hoping that once the PT is done and I can exercise normally again, that I’ll get to the gym at least twice a week.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Happy Monday, everyone.

Mr. Blue

Saturday morning blog, after a rather dreary and gloomy Friday. It clearly rained overnight, as everything outside is wet. I was exhausted yesterday after I was finished with PT and daytime work duties; by the time I ran my errands I was exhausted. I got a delivery from Sam’s last evening too, which had to be lugged into the apartment. I was dozing off in my chair a lot last night while watching documentaries about Spanish history, the Moors in Iberia, and the line of regnant kings and queens. It’s an interesting subject, to be sure; the physical and mental exhaustion did it, not the lack of interest or boredom. I even went to bed early and slept like a stone (I’ve always found that cliché odd; stones aren’t sentient so they don’t sleep).

I have an on-line panel today at 1:30 for Murderous March, an event put together by Upper Hudson Sisters in Crime, so I do hope if you have time, you’ll join us; they have panels and things programmed all day so head over to their website and take a look; you can also register there (it’s free!), and it should be a good and entertaining and informative conversation. I’m going to try to get some writing done before and after, as well as cleaning the apartment. I also want to do some more reading; I did spend some time with Norah Lofts’ The Little Wax Doll, which I am really enjoying. About a hundred pages in the story took a surprising turn; Lofts was rather good at that, if I recall correctly. I’ll definitely talk about Lofts more when I finish the book and write about it.

Tomorrow I’ll go out and make groceries, probably in the morning, and today is going to be the day where I make a definitive list for tomorrow, and I also need to check my to-do list to see what I’ve managed and what I’ve not thus far, as well as make one for the weekend. Ugh, I also have to start working on my taxes; a tedious chore to be sure, but one that needs doing. I’ll put that on the list for next weekend. I’m also going to try to get some of these pending blog drafts finished this weekend–with me luck, there are quite a few of them–but they either need to be finished at some point, or simply deleted and given up on. (It’s really hard for me to let go of ideas for things.)

But sometimes…sometimes you do have to let things go. Grim as it is to think, I know I am never going to write all the ideas I already have, let alone any new ideas that come to me. I really need to clean out the files–I have so many; ideas that are so old that I don’t even remember having them, and the way things are going I am not entirely sure I’ll even be able to finish writing the things I am currently working on, either. I do need to tackle the rust and grease the gears and unlock my writing drive. Heavy sigh. The malaise is gone, I think; I’m not really sure, to be honest, where it came from in the first place. I’m never sure where it comes from. I think it has to do with my faulty brain chemistry, if I am being honest. Sigh.

And on that dreary note, I am going to have my breakfast preparatory to heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday–I’ll probably be back later.

Kansas City

Friday morning work-at-home blog, in which I am up ridiculously early for a Friday morning thanks to a 7 a.m. PT appointment. What is great about that–for a change–is I’ll be back home around eight-ish and will be very wide awake, which is a great start to the day. I should really not sleep late on weekends, because it alters my body clock and makes Monday morning more difficult than it needs to be. But I’ve had a cup of coffee and am waking up some, which is great, even though I probably won’t finish this before I have to leave this morning. I have a department meeting after I get home, and then of course I have work-at-home duties and chores. Woo-hoo! Definitely living large this morning, aren’t I? So we’ll have to see how the day goes before I do any writing tonight. I’m going to be exhausted from the PT, I suspect. One never knows, does one?

Well, I was right. I didn’t finish before I had to leave for PT and I was even a few minutes late! It definitely woke me up while exhausting me at the same time, which happens. I am very tired now, but wide awake. I’ll probably feel some serious fatigue later, too. AH, well, at least I got it out of the way.

This week we had a site visit from one of our major funders, and I was told we all needed to dress up for the three days, so I did. (NARRATOR VOICE: I was one of the few who did all three days.) It was kind of fun to wear nice clothes and shoes for a change, but yesterday reminded me how much I hate my black slip-on dress shoes, so I decided then and there I was going to throw them away at last when I got home and order a new pair, preferable Oxfords, all black. I did find those shoes, and ordered them, but then for the hell of it I looked for what I’ve not been able to find for years, black and white Oxfords that look like classic saddle shoes. I had a pair in college and I loved those shoes. Well, yesterday I managed to find a pair, so I ordered them immediately. With any luck, they will make their debut at Saints and Sinners this year. I never really get to dress up very often, and so fancier shoes don’t get worn very often. (Some pairs I’ve had for well over a decade and maybe have worn five or six times, if that.) Dressing up also made me realize almost everything I own that is dressy is mostly red or black. I should probably go through the clothes in the closet since I have no idea what is even in there anymore.

I watched the season finale of Feud last night, and didn’t feel much about it; the performances were fantastic, as always, but I don’t like the fiction that Babe Paley regretted cutting him out of her life and even talked to the other women about forgiving him. She most definitely did not have second thoughts, and having her telling her husband and her friends all this stuff about how much she missed him and how she wanted to forgive him and talked to the other women about being kinder? This whole fantasy episode where (SPOILER) they are together again after death, happily spending eternity together? Bitch, please. It softens her character, certainly, which is audience-service, but it’s really a betrayal of who she was and how betrayed and hurt she felt. I would have much preferred that the others tried to convince her to forgive him and she wouldn’t. Maybe not the character arc Naomi Watts would prefer, but it would have been more poignant–answered prayers, indeed.

And on that note, it’s time for my meeting so I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Friday and who knows? I may be back later.

Stagger Lee

Thursday last morning in the office this week blog. I get to go in a little later because I have to stay until five tonight; and of course tomorrow morning I have PT at the ungodly hour of seven a.m. Gah. But it’s okay, really. I slept super well last night–probably the best night’s sleep of the week–and I finally got my keyboard for the iPad yesterday: huzzah! It works beautifully, too…which is the last excuse I had for not getting any writing done (or as much as I would like). Now I have a functional laptop and a functional iPad for writing anywhere in the house, which is kind of fun. I can get my iPad in the morning and write in bed if I want, or I can take the laptop up there, or…so many plethoras of options, and NO MORE EXCUSES.

Oh, I’ll still make excuses, of course, to get out of doing the day’s writing. And I did do some yesterday–I wrote about seven hundred or so words on “Passenger to Franklin” (an Agatha Christie title homage that really pleases me far more than it probably should)–but very little of anything else other than watching Part II of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion (Kyle Richards remains a disgusting piece of shit bitch who doesn’t need to be on my television screen anymore). I then spent the rest of the evening watching the news (or clips from the news) and despairing further about the future of the country and grateful again that I am old. It’s about the only benefit to being old, really, and not having children: the future isn’t really my problem, but at the same time, I also don’t want the adults of the future to have to deal with a destroyed and/or increasingly hostile and damaged planet, either, because I am not a monster. Sometimes I think I worry about the future more than people who actually do have kids, or are young.

I watched a really interesting conversation between Rachel Maddow and Nicolle Wallace last night–and they were both right: the Republican Party of today wants to eliminate our democracy and set up an authoritarian state where they are always in charge and they can get rid of everyone they don’t like. Sound familiar? See Berlin, 1933. It’s scary to contemplate, and even scarier to realize The Handmaid’s Tale was actually very prescient. I became worried about authoritarianism coming to the US during the Reagan years and what followed, when the Republican party became convinced that they had a divine right and mandate to always be in power. As I watched people get subsumed by Fox Propaganda in the 1990s (when the character assassination of Hilary Clinton truly began), I saw it for what it was: definitely not a news organization, and it’s partisan nature had everything to do with the rollback on rules about what is and isn’t news…during the Reagan administration. It’s astonishing how little people think about the recent past, or even try to put the present in the context of the recent past.

Let alone thinking about the older history, which no one knows1. Then again, I am from a part of the country that proudly claims hatred and bigotry as their heritage, so maybe knowing history might not help as much as I would like to believe.

Heavy heaving sigh.

Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it.

I’m doing a panel for a Sisters in Crime chapter on-line event this weekend, do tune in to any or all of the antics this weekend. It’s called Murderous March, and it’s being put on by the Upper Hudson Sisters chapter, and you can register to view the panels here. My panel is at 2:30 eastern, it’s called “It Was a Dark and Stormy Night,” and is being moderated by the wonderful Richie Narvaez. My co-panelists are the amazing Carol Pouliot, Edwin Hill, Tina Bellegarde, and M. E. Browning. It should be a pretty good time, I think.

And on that note, I think I’ll head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later.

Pink Shoe Laces

My blog has gotten a little more feisty than it’s been in quite some time. I’ve talked before about how I toned myself down a bit on here–I have no desire to argue with anyone about my opinions, thank you very much–but I’ve also started speaking out again against insanity and cruelty and stupidity. Despite the loss of the anxiety, I still get angry about cruelty and injustice. I also tend to not talk about things where my opinion isn’t perhaps as educated as others’; I defer. I also don’t want to ever speak for another marginalized communit1y other than my own–and I always make it clear I only speak for myself. I am not a tastemaker or an influencer or anything like that, not am I some great authority on anything other than my own experience, education, and feelings–and sometimes I even question that. I’ve also recently realized how I am not nearly as self-aware as I have always smugly told myself I am; in fact I am capable of self-delusion to an almost pathological extent. But as long as I continue to learn and grow, and don’t dismiss anything out of hand because something isn’t my experience. I do think I am different from most in that I listen to new perspectives and don’t reflexively react negatively to changes in culture and society. It gets frustrating for me when people are obtuse about queer issues and often refuse to listen (there’s nothing quite like being straight-splained about queer experience); so I always want to be open to anything that isn’t bigotry or prejudice (I will never be open to either of those). My trans friends have been an incredible exercise in educating myself and understanding and above all else, compassion…and so have my racialized friends (I saw a Black woman use that term on social media instead of non-white or people of color; I kind of like it because it’s true. White people invented the construct of race identity and racism to begin with, so using racialized seems appropriate to me).

I hate that I’ve basically had to spend most of my adult reeducating myself, but at least I never get tired of learning. Society and the culture have gotten a lot better about a lot of things, but we still have a long way to go.

I finally appealed an egregious medical decision by the most evil of insurers, Blue Cross Blue Shield of Louisiana, and faxed the form along with my letter of complaint (about multiple issues since they have taken over insuring me the first of this year) and all the necessary documentation–the entire thing wound up being fifteen pages and OOPS, I may have sent it to them twice. They were a shit company when I was saddled with them because of preexisting conditions before the Affordable Care Act; I couldn’t switch insurers fast enough once that became law, and now I am stuck with them again–and they are just as shitty as they were before (which I pointed out again in my letter, along with all the violations of the Affordable Care Act they’ve committed with just ME alone; God only knows what an audit would show). Y’all fucked with the wrong faggot, and if this isn’t resolved, I will not rest until they’ve all been fired.

Obviously, they’ve clearly never met me.

I slept better last night than I have all week so far, which is definitely weird. We’re in a dense fog advisory with potential rain today, but it’s bright and sunny and the sky is clear and beautifully blue this morning. I ain’t gonna lie, much as I love rain, I don’t like being out in it. I love rainy days on the weekend, when you can just snuggle up under a blanket and get some reading done. I’m starting to get better organized with everything, and my life is slowly starting to come back to what it was before the surgery. I’ve also realized that I’ve been in a kind of transitional malaise, the way I feel only after I’ve finished a book and need to get started writing another one. I also am coming out of the malaise, I believe. Both days this week so far had been a bit off, and today I feel…more normal than I did the last two days. I don’t know what that will translate into in regards to writing, but I am hoping to climb back up on that horse this week, maybe even tonight when I get home. The apartment is looking better still, doesn’t need a lot of straightening, but there are some incomplete chores that I do need to finish before the weekend, preferably tonight–but that will depend on how I feel when I get home–how I survive another day at the office.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, all, and I will probably check in again later.

Ballet boys (ballerinos) have unbelievable bodies. I’ve always wanted to write a gay noir set in a ballet company…I mean, look at that effortless perfect split!
  1. I will never forget–or forgive–the straight white bitch who responded to a tweet I made about Marianne Williamson’s horrific lies about HIV/AIDS in the 1990s who told me to “be quiet and listen to Marianne’s beautiful message”. I doubt that bitch will ever tell a gay man to shut up about HIV/AIDS again. ↩︎