Category: LSU

Song Sung Blue

Weeping like a willow….

Apparently, per my last bloodwork, I am a bit anemic. My primary care doctor isn’t concerned; he thinks it’s a result of the illness-related weight loss, so I am probably going to have to have the bloodwork done over again to see if the anemia is persisting, or if getting more back to eating, with its concurrent weight gain and feeling better, has improved the situation. My deductible is paid in full, so yeah, I am all about getting tested and doing all kinds of things for the rest of the year so I can get more value from my insurance. I am assuming that since the deductible shows paid off, that I will most likely be getting the bill from Ochsner Baptist soon, and I am curious to see how much six nights in a hospital and all the care that went with it actually costs. (The pharmacy bill from the stay is the only one showing yet on my insurance account; and it was over twenty two thousand dollars. Just for medications, but I am assuming that includes the IV’s, too.)

But yay on the deductible being paid off at last! I’m not thrilled about how it happened, of course, but it’s quite delightful to know everything isn’t going to cost me a cent for the rest of the year, mwa-ha-ha-ha.

I also wrote last night. The story isn’t finished yet, but I put in over two thousand words yesterday, so my writing muscles are getting stronger and looser and that’s lovely, isn’t it? The story now sits at just over three thousand words, and yes, it’s quite horrible but I feel confident I can do something good with it once I finish. But it felt good to get those creaky muscles back to work, and maybe I can get even more written this weekend.

I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home from work last night; it was a very slow day in the clinic and I was able to get caught up on a lot of Admin work. And now I am working from home today, with more Admin work to do, too. It’s supposed to be a rainy weekend, too, which is always nice. Hoping to get some good reading time in while I do chores and around writing this weekend. And if I don’t, well, as long as I get some rest that’s really the most important thing, really. I like feeling better–at some points while I was sick I wondered if I would ever feel better again, or if that was my new normal. God, that was unpleasant, and I’m glad it’s over for the most part. It may come back, which is the scary part, so you can bet your ass I will do whatever I need to do in order to be sure that doesn’t happen.

But my breakfast and my morning coffee are really hitting the spot this humid morning. The rain isn’t supposed to be here until later this evening, which is nice. I think I’ll run my errands tomorrow instead of today; today feels like a good stick around the house day, to be honest. I did do some chores last night, so this morning I just need to empty the dishwasher and do some laundry, and then the floors, which somehow always look terrible by the weekend every week. I also finished writing a newsletter last night that I’ll probably send out this morning before I start working.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later or tomorrow morning; stay tuned to find out!

Anubis in Queen Nefertari’s tomb, Egypt, Valley of the Queens

Puppy Love

Thank God, my sister was never into Donny Osmond or his brothers. But he was everywhere on Top Forty radio in the 1970s, and later he teamed up with Marie–which was actually worse than his solo/with his brother efforts, but for some reason they were enormously popular1, which I never understood. But then I’ve never understood a lot of things that were popular in our culture.2

And “puppy love” is kind of a creepy saying, anyway.

My first infusion is now scheduled, for this coming Monday morning. I am winding down the prednisone; half a pill this week and next, then a quarter pill for the next two, and the massive swelling of my ankles and feet (side effect of the prednisone) has gone down significantly, which is why it is easier for me to walk now than it was before. There was a slight hang-up, of course, with my insurance (I know, gasp) but it got straightened out and the treatments are now approved. For the record, I will never take the word of an insurance company trying to make money for its shareholders about what is or isn’t “medically necessary,” thank you very much. How much of everyone’s time did this waste? How on earth is this considered an effective use of staff time? Our system is so broken. I am getting good care, and I am very grateful for that, but at the same time I shouldn’t have to spend so much time stressing about what is going to be covered and what is not when I am trying to get well. It seems counterproductive to the healing process, but I am not an insurance company employee, so what do I know?

I worked a bit on the story yesterday–broke through the middle and realized what I am writing will need to be restructured in the next draft, but I do like where it’s going–and was also kind of tired by mid-afternoon. I think it was the relaxation from the insurance approval; I hadn’t realized how much that was bothering me under the surface. It also rained all afternoon–marvelous downpours with thunder and lightning, which kind of made me sleepy. I think we’re going to have a very tropical summer this year in New Orleans, where it’s so humid it rains every afternoon. I didn’t read anything when I got home–the traffic on the highways was dense and moving very slow–but just kind of relaxed for a moment before working on the story very briefly. I’m glad I figured it out, though–I was getting a little worried, as I always do when writing doesn’t come as easily as it used to. The story is over two thousand words now, which pleases me; it’s been a hot minute since I wrote that much on anything, so that’s a win, thank you very much.

But it’s Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. The schedule is very light in the clinic today, so I’ll be able to get a lot of Admin work taken care of, which will have me all caught up on the office work before Remote Friday, which will again be admin work, just at home (I save stuff that I can do at home for Remote Fridays), and then it’s the weekend. I should do chores tonight, so I don’t have to do them this weekend, but the house does need to have some picking up and cleaning done. I want to finish writing this story and work on some other writing this weekend, all the while getting the reading done. I should be able to finish my three current reads this weekend before moving on to the next three; I think probably Mia Manansala’s new y/a, along with a Jay Bennett 3reread of one of his y/a’s, and my adult reread will probably be another Barbara Michaels, perhaps The Crying Child, which I’ve not reread in forever.

Those are some really good choices, don’t you think?

I also have some library books for research that I need to get through and make notes so I can return them. One is for Chlorine, and the other is for my deconstruction of Gone with the Wind and Lost Cause mythology–primarily focusing on how the Confederate widows and their daughters drove that mythology (because they couldn’t accept the fact their husbands, fathers and sons were treasonous losers, so they deified them, to the detriment of the country to the present day).

And of course, LSU plays this weekend in the College World Series, so I’ll definitely have that on, too.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

  1. I did like his comeback hits in the early 1990’s–“Sacred Emotion” and “Soldier of Love”, though. Go figure. ↩︎
  2. Don’t even get me started on Jonathan Livingston Seagull, which was the Number One bestseller for two full years in the early 1970s. ↩︎
  3. Bennett is mostly forgotten today, but he wrote y/a noir/suspense, won two Edgars from three nominations, and was a master. I’ll probably do a newsletter about him someday, once I get through his entire canon. ↩︎

A Horse with No Name

I wrote yesterday!!!

I know, right? It was only about a thousand words or so, but it was a thousand words or so more than I had when I got up yesterday morning! What a lovely Sunday it was, too. We were in another heat advisory (I have yet to check this morning to see if we’re in another one today; there’s nothing in my inbox, so that’s a good thing I suppose); and even inside with the air conditioning, I could tell it was miserable outside. I read some more of my current reads (Summerhouse, The Dark on the Other Side, Incident at Loring Groves), and did some cleaning around the house whilst also writing, which was amazing and felt even better. I also cleared up an issue with something else I am working on while I was in creative think mode, which is very awesome and cool.

I was reading Summerhouse, actually, which is setting itself up nicely for the next part of the book–I really like the voice; and was wondering if it was because the music of the words comes from the original Turkish, it’s this wonderful rhythm that just pulls you along–when I remembered the French Open Men’s final was yesterday morning, so I checked my phone to see who won–only to see that Carlos Alcaraz was up 5-4 and serving for the match! I immediately switched the television over to watch, and so got to see the thrilling end as Alcaraz was broken back to win in a tie-break that was very exciting.

LSU is going to the College World Series again, sweeping West Virginia in the super regionals. The game last night didn’t start until eight our time, because of rain delays, so I had to go to bed not knowing if there would be a third and deciding game tonight. They were up 6-4 when I went to bed (later than I should have because of the game, but I was also nervously doing some chores while it was on, so the house looked nicer this morning when I came down for breakfast) but they did end up winning 12-5, and made it back to Omaha again! Huzzah! And now on to the Jell-o Shot record set in 2023, which seems like more than two years ago, doesn’t it?

While we were waiting for the rain-delayed LSU game, we watched the Pee-Wee Herman documentary on MAX (or whatever the fuck they call it now), which was interesting and also sad (more on that later) and when we finished that, moved on to the Netflix adaptation of Jane Harper’s The Survivors, which is quite good. I’ve not read Jane Harper, but I know of her, and if this is any indication of how good her books are, I may have to give her a whirl. Just what I need, right, more to read? Sigh. But this triangular reading thing I am doing (a new novel, a reread, and a kids’ book simultaneously) seems to be working, as I am getting more reading done. (It’s also entirely possible it’s all in my mind, but…I don’t mind the occasional self-delusion…)

So, it was a good recovery weekend. I really enjoy being creative again, and getting some writing and reading and housekeeping done. I feel good for a Monday morning, and feel like this could be an amazing week for me, as long as I keep getting rest and moving forward. I need to make a new to-do list (I finished almost everything on the last one, even if it took a little longer than I’d hoped). I also started going through my recipe binder, throwing out things I’ll never make as well as duplicates; I was looking for Mom’s chicken-and-dumpling recipe, which is clearly now lost forever, which means going back to that recipe I tried the other day (and liked) and punching it up to be more like Mom’s–milk and flour, for one, to thicken the sauce–which isn’t a bad thing; Mom’s recipe was an adaptation of her mother’s, after all.

The Buc-ee’s in Pass Christian opened this weekend, too–I may have to take an expedition out there one morning on a weekend to check it out and get Paul one of their sandwiches; it would be nice to stop at a Buc-ees when I’m not on my way somewhere. Pass Christian is about an hour from New Orleans, so I could listen to an audiobook on my way over to check it out. (I always have big plans of exploring on the weekends, and then I never do anything about it…but going to Buc-ee’s, I could take highway 90 east and cross the Rigolets to Slidell, and I could take some pictures out that way, too…hmmm. I also need to cross the river and head down to the bayou parishes for something else I am writing…sure, it’s summer now here and I am recovering still, but like I said, my mind’s creative ADHD has been working overdrive lately.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning, most likely.

Down by the Lazy River

Happy Sunday to all who celebrate! My alarm cat got me up just past six, and yet again I had a lovely night’s sleep, which was simply marvelous. Yesterday was not a bad day; I got some rest and did some things, but put no pressure on myself and just recharged my batteries. I do have a sink full of dirty dishes, and the kitchen’s kind of a mess, really, but I can get that taken care of today. LSU doesn’t play today until five, so I have the whole day to get things done. Or not, depending on how I feel….but I definitely don’t want to come home from work tomorrow to a dirty kitchen.

My newsletter has been getting new subscribers since my return to it after the illness (which, while chronic for the rest of my life, has actually turned out to have been a good thing. Typical Gregalicious craziness, am I right?), but again, I try not to think about that too much because I don’t want to have to worry about what I write there. I know my Pride posts this month have generated some clicks; maybe it’s just that, you know? Supporting the queer author during Pride? Why do I even question any of this instead of just accepting it?

Which is more crazy Gregaliciousness, but that’s who I am.

As I said, I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked yesterday, but I did watch LSU win their baseball game (GEAUX TIGERS), had groceries delivered, did some cleaning and picking up, and read some more. I finished my reread of The Mystery of the Haunted Mine, which other than some racial insensitivities (mostly about native Americans and Mexican-Americans, but they could easily be corrected, there wasn’t a lot of it) actually holds up really well; I greatly enjoyed the book. I also read some more of The Dark on the Other Side, but got so caught in the kids’ book that I didn’t really read much of anything else. My next y/a read will be Incident at Loring Groves, by Sonia Levitin, which won the first Edgar for y/a when it was finally split off from juvenile. I looked Levitin up and she’s kind of amazing, as was the author of The Mystery of the Haunted Mine, Gordon Shirreffs. I also want to reread some of Phyllis A. Whitney’s juvenile mysteries, which I enjoyed a lot as a kid (I also was a big fan of her novels for adults, which were romantic suspense but really good mysteries, too), and I think I have some of them around here somewhere.

I also thought about some of my own fiction writing yesterday while scribbling notes in my journal. If I can focus, I’d like to get some fiction writing on the short stories done, and some editing as well on the books. I should spend some time with Summerhouse, and I do have other chores to do around the house. I don’t know what time LSU plays today, but I can read while I watch that, or edit. I like that my brain is being creative again (I’m still loving that gay version of No Way Out I was thinking about the other day, so add that to the list of future projects I want to get to at some point), but it’s not doing me any good unless words are appearing in the electronic files and I am drawing closer to a goal, you know? I also need to make another to-do list, at the top of which will be calling my specialist, because we still haven’t scheduled my first infusion, the infusion meds people are getting antsy about getting started (which is an interesting phenomenon I didn’t think happened in American health care anymore; but I am sure it has nothing to do with my health and something to do with money because that’s what our health care system is about: capitalism), and to be honest, I am a little curious about why it’s not been schedule, and I think I am going to need more prednisone because I am getting low and there’s still weeks to go on that treatment. So, yes, indeed, we need to make a to-do list once I finish breakfast.

We also finished Department Q last night and really liked it a lot. I hope it gets renewed. It’s well-written, tightly plotted, and incredibly acted. Not sure what we are going to watch next–probably the Paul Rubens documentary, which will be terribly sad, but probably a good idea to watch and evaluate during Pride. The behavior of homophobic garbage on social media because it’s Pride Month only serves to make me more defiant, and more determined to call it out and shame it whenever I see it. Your ignorant bigotry comes across my feed? Complain to the algorithm after I am finished eviscerating your unwashed flat ass. It’s fucking Pride, can’t you leave us the fuck alone for thirty goddamned days? Would it really kill you that much to not be a piece of shit for that short a period of time?

Obviously, it would.

And if Simone Biles dragged me for the filth that I was the way she did Riley Gaines yesterday, I think I’d just shut the fuck up and disappear. But pathetic loser crybaby Riley Gaines will, once again, play the victim while she bullies children on her infernal crusade. Riley, how do people regard Anita Bryant today? Look it up–that’s your legacy. That’s how you’ll be remembered. As a fifth-place loser who basically threw a tantrum for finishing in fifth place because you weren’t good enough to place. How did you do at the Olympic Trials? And comparing you with Simone Biles, in swimming terms, is comparing you to Katie Ledecky.

Yeah, loser, you’re not even remotely close to her league. Sorry Mommy and Daddy treated every bowel movement as a child as more proof of how special you were, but why should trans people suffer because you had shitty parents and your spoiled, Veruka Salt behavior? Take the L, bitch, and disappear.

I also watched Coco Gauff win the French Open yesterday, which was awesome. I really like Coco, and have enjoyed watching her rise. That’s two slams she’s won, and she’s only 21, and she seems to have the right perspective on it all–and dealt with the c*nty ungraciousness of the Number One seed’s press conference like a champ. I never liked Sabalenka, and I never will now; nothing annoys me more than a sore fucking loser (cough Riley Gaines cough).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning for sure.

Out gay actor Cooper Koch is having a moment, and good for him!

King of My Heart

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well–at least so far. Sparky is behaving himself (for now; I am sure he’ll be attacking my ankles and feet at any moment before going to sleep for the rest of the morning on the couch, because that’s just how he rolls, you know?). He got me up before six yesterday morning, which was fine. I managed to tumble out of bed and head to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of ambition; and I got the chores caught up that I had left so that I don’t have to play catch-up this morning. I also finished my Vicki Barr newsletter, but won’t be posting that until after Pride because, for this entire month, my newsletter is all gay all the time! Woo-hoo! I’ve also been picking up new subscribers, which is kind of nice, too–I generally don’t pay much attention to that kind of stuff because it makes me nervous, and I worry about writing for the audience instead of writing what feels right for me at the time–that kind of thinking is anathema for a writer, and it happens much too often for me when I am working on a novel or a short story than I would prefer.

But it was a good, productive day, and we did make it to Costco–we even got out spending less than four hundred, a rarity indeed–and the traffic on the way home wasn’t bad other than the usual occasional stupid white man nonsense. I read some more of Summerhouse, and The Dark on the Other Side, both of which I am enjoying thoroughly (I don’t remember the plot of the reread of the Michaels, so it’s like reading a whole new book), but also fell asleep in my chair after I finished the laundry–not really asleep, actually, but just sitting there kind of staring into space while my mind raced around, and before I knew it, it was seven and time to make dinner. But…I got a lot done around here, I got my work done, and we were able to get in two episodes of Department Q last night, which was lovely. The characters are all so interesting and complex! I think I am watching more for the characters than the cold case (which, to be fair, is interesting) they are working on.

And that’s saying a lot for a crime show, but of course, it’s British, not American.

I am feeling a bit tired and low energy this morning. Sparky the Alarm Kitty let me sleep till quarter past six this morning, which was odd, but my coffee is tasting good. The kitchen is still kind of a wreck–I still have stuff to put away from Costco, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and reloaded, and the rugs are all messed up–but I can get that all taken care of in a jiffy before retiring to my chair to read some more. LSU plays at 1 in the super regional, and I am going to have some food delivered today from the grocery store so I don’t have to leave the house. We had a marvelous thunderstorm and downpour last night (while the sun was out; it’s very disorienting to have it be so bright in the evening while the walk is covered in water and it sounds like a waterfall outside, the sound of falling water only disrupted by the occasional clap of thunder) but much as I hoped it would last all night, it did not. The heat index for today is forecast to be 105 (!!!!), which is another reason I don’t want to go outside if it can be helped today.

But the first part of my breakfast, already eaten, is making me feel more alert and awake and alive, which is, of course, quite marvelous. I want to write this weekend, too–I have two short stories that I want to finish first drafts of, I need to reread some old manuscripts to get back into writing them, and I need to make another to-do list. I’ve also organized all the short story submission calls I want to submit to–one of the new stories is for a deadline on June 20th, so I need to get moving on that one, for sure; I have something already that might be able to be tweaked and revised to fit, but that requires me sitting with my butt in my desk chair writing, doesn’t it?1

And on that note, the writing and cleaning and organizing (I also cleaned out my inbox and filed some yesterday like a good Gregalicious) isn’t going to do itself, so let me get my bowl of Cheerios, bring this to a close, and head into the spice mines. Have yourself a lovely little Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Ballerinos have always fascinated me with what they can do with their incredible bodies. I’d like to write a ballet noir at some point, bec
  1. Which is why I don’t mind getting up early the way I used to; I’ve been able to get so much more done on the weekends not sleeping in, plus it makes it much easier to get back into the swing of getting up early on Monday. Win-win? ↩︎

Red

Lovin’ him was red…

My favorite Taylor Swift jam is “Red,” by the way.

Remote Friday and all is quiet and well in the Lost Apartment this morning, other than Sparky complaining ( as always) that his breakfast wasn’t enough food. (He always insists he is starving to death, the little beast. And his plaintive cries are so convincing, too–until I ignore him and he goes back to sleep.) I had a good day yesterday; I had another marvelous night’s sleep on Wednesday and felt really good yesterday. I did some writing–not much, mostly some prep work and editing

Yesterday at work I decided I didn’t want the lunch I brought with me after all, and decided to use one of the food delivery apps to get Five Guys. This was a brand new experience for me, one I had been wanting to try since I was housebound and sick, and yesterday I just decided fuck it, I want Five Guys and DoorDashed it. It went swimmingly, I might add, and I am going to have to be careful now–this was so easy it will be very tempting to do this a lot more often–like Saturday for lunch. Stop it, Greg, keep it under control. I know, I am a late adapter, but I always have been. And the temptation to get food delivered all the time is going to be a struggle for me. All I do since the illness is think about food, and what would be good. There are all kinds of places on those delivery apps that look interesting and I want to try–maybe I’ll splurge again this weekend. See how easy it is to give into temptation.

The combination of Canadian wildfire smoke and the Saharan dust has made things weird here in New Orleans. It smells like burning rubber outside, and the dust has made for some terrific sunrise/sunset photos by the intrepid local photographers I follow on social media, who always manage to come up with these incredibly beautiful shots of the city. But it’s murder on my eyes and my sinuses–neither of which need much assistance in making me miserable.

I was a bit on the tired side when I got home. I went to get the mail and pick up a library book (about the Red Scare of the 1950’s, so it’s research), and by the time I got home and fed Sparky I needed to sit down for a bit, and I even dozed off. Paul came home later and we watched another Department Q and the most recent Murderbot, and then I tried to do some chores before going to bed later than I usually do. I didn’t read anything, either. Gotta get back on that horse soon. I did work on the writing a bit last night, reviewing some things for revision and making notes. Maybe I’ll actually write-write this weekend. I do want to get some short stories written, and I don’t have many errands to do–but I do need to clean this house for sure. Sheesh. And of course LSU plays in the super regional this weekend, so I’ll have that on while I do things (read, most likely).

But yesterday was another good and efficient day for me at work, which was nice. I got all my Admin work caught up that I have to do at the office, and here’s hoping I can get caught up on all my Remote Admin work today; we do have meetings this morning, and I also have some on-line trainings to do that are required to be done every year. I know all the answers because I’ve done them now every year for ten years, but the refresher is not a bad thing at all, and it also works as a test of my memory–which has not been the greatest in quite some time. Heavy heaving sigh. It’s a bitch getting older, even if I am feeling better every day. The getting up early, thanks to the Sparky-alarm, isn’t my favorite thing, either, but I am not groggy and sleepy in the mornings since I have time to eat breakfast and drink more coffee before I leave the house; and yes, I am very glad that my coffee tastes good to me again. I do enjoy my little breakfast at home, and other than my being sleepy earlier in the evening (I was asleep in my chair when Paul got home tonight), it’s not the worst development in my life by a long shot.

And on that note, my toast has popped up in the toaster, one piece crying out for peanut butter, the other for strawberry jelly (what is the difference between jelly and jam? They didn’t have preserves, which is what I actually wanted), and so I am going to bring this to a close, take a breakfast break, and then head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning with a full report. (I think we’re going to Costco later on this afternoon, too.)

I’ve never been sure why I’ve always been interested in abandoned places, but they’ve always stirred my imagination.

Gorgeous

Well, yesterday was a disruption from the usual routine, wasn’t it?

The water was out at the office, as I may have mentioned as an addendum yesterday, so we couldn’t see patients and we all got an unexpected remote day. I hadn’t slept well Sunday night, so I was a bit tired and not a bit sorry to work from home, shamefully. I did get some work done, and I also loaded the dishwasher and got that chore finished. I also cleaned out the refrigerator, got rid of some old things close to turning, and reorganized it in there. I was still tired for most of the evening, but am pretty pleased with what I did manage to get done.

I hate starting out the week tired like that. I also was, I think, in calorie deficit and hadn’t brought near enough food to work to stave that off because I was starving when I got home. I stopped on the way home to get peanut butter and Creole tomatoes (they are sooooo good; I love Creole tomato season), and made a massive gyro when I got home. And was hungry for dinner, later, too. I can’t remember eating this much, ever, in my life before. And since I have disordered eating habits1, I do worry about eating so much and trying to gain weight, since it has been antithetical to my mental state and self-image of you need to lose some weight for so fucking long.

It’s very weird to be in my mid-sixties, yet still thinking about my disordered eating and body image issues. I used to think when I got older that would all go away. But it really didn’t, did it? I slowed down and did gain weight, of course, between fifty and sixty, and wondered if that was it, you know? But it would rear its ugly head in bad eating habits again, always. Conferences are dangerous for me because I will literally forget to eat–although I am doing better about that (he says, despite falling into the worst illness of his life after his last conference–but they were not related, much as I thought they might be; the dehydration and exhaustion exacerbated the UC).

But I did sleep well last night and feel good this morning. LSU managed to come back from the 5-1 deficit they faced after the second inning to win 10-6 (GEAUX TIGERS!) and now it’s on the Super Regional to see if they make it to Omaha and the World Series. How exciting and fun for them! Thanks, boys! A few more weeks of baseball are in the offing, which is always fun.

I did actually get some writing work done last night, too–not actual writing per se, but prep work. I also did some thinking about other stories and projects that I am currently working on, which was very cool, and I started reading Summerhouse, which was a very pleasant surprise, as the main characters are older and have been together for forty years; the book opens on their fortieth anniversary, and it’s kind of interesting read. (I’ve been thinking about writing about older characters since reading Laura Lippman’s Murder Takes a Vacation, and so that’d been on my mind.) I’ve not gotten very far into it, but will read some more of it tonight when I get home, as well as advancing in both The Dark on the Other Side and Mystery of the Haunted Mine.

And maybe–just maybe–I can get some actual writing done. I almost finished today’s Pride newsletter last night; I need to look it over and make changes and write probably another paragraph or two.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Happy Tuesday everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow or perhaps later. No one knows.

The gorgeous Steve Reeves, mid-twentieth century bodybuilding champion and star of Italian muscle movies.
  1. Not the same thing as an eating disorder; disordered eating is simply a bad relationship with food and eating, which I have had my entire life–there will be more about this to come. ↩︎

Don’t Cry Out Loud

..when you check your 401k. I checked mine yesterday, which is risk-adverse and there’s not much in it, and it was still a shock. Mine had declined in value by 10%–and it’s risk averse. I can only imagine what happened to those that were higher risk/higher reward but also higher potential for loss.

Remember how the Republicans have always wanted to make social security investment accounts, just like they changed pensions to investment accounts under Reagan? How’s that working out for y’all? They have never had the best interests of the American people at heart, ever.

Gah.

We’re supposed to have thunderstorms all day today, which will be a nice way of dealing with the humidity we’ve been “enjoying” over the last few weeks. It’s also supposed to be in the fifties at night this week, which means better sleep. I slept pretty well this weekend, Sparky getting me up early for food but I’ve also been going to bed early every night; really getting tired around nine these last few nights and dozing off in the bed. We finished watching The Residence last night, which I highly recommend. It’s a witty, well done, and deeply clever murder mystery set in the White House, and it’s very Agatha Christie. WE then started watching season three of The White Lotus, which everyone has been talking about; we’d started season one but gave up after the first episode. Parker Posey is perfectly cast, as is everyone else; and God, Patrick Schwarzenegger’s character is such a douche bro; I despise him so far, about three or four episodes in? LSU also won their regional final yesterday was yet another score over 198.00; this is their sixth straight competition with a score of that or higher–and they left points on the board yesterday. GEAUX TIGERS!

I just looked out the windows and the sidewalk is wet, and it hasn’t rained…which means the humidity must be getting unbearable outside. I am looking forward to the thunderstorms arriving, because that’s when I am going to curl up under my blankets and read some more. I wanted to go to yesterday’s protests, but correctly assessed in the morning that I was fatigued, and other than some chores, I wasn’t going to get much of anything done. I’d planned to run an errand, but stayed inside and rested, hence the television bingeing. I hate that I wasn’t able to go; but I feel rested and good this morning (so far) so maybe it will last and I can get things done. There was insane turnout yesterday all across the country (and even across Louisiana!), and of course, it was largely ignored by State Media (Fox) and State Media-lite (everyone else). The utter failure of the legacy media to meet this moment in US History will be studied for centuries, provided the coming collapse of the United States doesn’t result in the world being plunged into a reoccurrence of the Dark Ages.

I hate that I am now so old that I can’t even go to protests anymore. But the massive turnout nation-wide yesterday gives me some hope–even as cishet white people don’t seem to quite understand what protests are, and they can be dangerous? Especially under this administration? Everyone who actually was able to attend yesterday was basically putting their bodies, lives and freedom on the line to take a stand; for those of you who still don’t get it try googling Kent State, or any of the protest marches in Alabama in the 1960s. The insanity I saw yesterday on social media–I still can’t believe the “bouncy house” thread was serious–just is another indication of why most marginalized communities don’t trust the cishet whites. One of the reasons I don’t feel sympathy for any MAGA voter with regrets or pulling the “I didn’t vote for this” Pilate handwashing of their crimes–is because you did vote for this. He didn’t lie to you about any of this. He told you he was going to do all of this, but he did lie about everyone getting rich; but…he was talking about rich people and corporations, not the voters who worship him. Sorry not sorry I don’t believe your claims that you aren’t transphobic or racist or homophobic now and were just misled; any rational adult could see you were being given Flavor-Ade to drink and were lapping it all up and asking for more. I feel so owned, you have no idea.

And on that cheery note, I am going to head into the spice mines while I wait for the thunderstorms to arrive (although the sun has just come out again). I have cleaning to do and taxes to organize, and I had hoped to make it to the gym today…but my shoulder is feeling sore again, so probably best to stay home and rest it, I guess. I hate being frail. I doubt I’ll be back before the morrow, so have a lovely Sunday fun day and I will see you in the morning.

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground)

Saturday morning and I have a couple of errands to do this morning. I need to go by the bank (I haven’t made a deposit in person in eons) and I have to swing by the grocery store. Sigh. I really didn’t want to leave the house today, but here we are. It’s also a struggle these days to get through as we go through and experience the collapse of the American experiment in self-rule. I think another significant part of our history that isn’t taught the way it should be is we aren’t taught about how many Tories there were in the colonies during the lead up to and aftermath of the Revolution. We aren’t taught New England threatened to secede during the War of 1812, or that there were people on both sides of the Civil War1 that sympathized with the other side; North and South weren’t monoliths the way we are taught. We aren’t taught about how many Americans were Nazi sympathizers and isolationists before Pearl Harbor, using the slogan “America First”–so you see why I have always raised a cynical eyebrow whenever anyone uses that slogan; it was tied to Nazi sympathizers to me.

Watching the collapse of our country is challenging and more than a little bit depressing. It is terrible that just as I approach the age of retirement and the final chapter of my life…well, the retirement may turn out to be involuntary, as my clinic’s funding is definitely on the chopping block, Social Security is about to be looted and destroyed, and I don’t want to even look at the paltry 401k, which has also probably evaporated. No job and no retirement funds is going to be awesome when I turn 64. Paul got the notice from the NEH to not bother applying for grant funding, as it’s all been cut, so his job may not survive this, either–no more festivals in the spring. So, miss me with “we need to be nice to MAGA voters now finding out”–fuck them now and forever. I will never forgive them, and their suffering lightens mine. You want to embrace them, be my guess. Me? I will never stop laughing and pointing, let alone mocking them and enjoying their tears. My patience has worn out for ignorant haters, sorry not sorry– and as they so eloquently put it, “fuck your feelings.”

Yesterday was a nice day, overall. I got up, had a virtual meeting at work, and then did my Admin work before running some errands. I got that done, and then Paul and I made a Costco run and spent an insane amount of money. After getting home, lugging everything into the house and putting it all away, I was tired. I collapsed into my chair for a while as Paul went upstairs to work on the NEH grant–but got the email so didn’t have to bother for the rest of the evening and we dove further into The Residence, which I am greatly enjoying. Uzo Adoba is fantastic as Cordelia Copp, the world’s greatest detective, and it’s very well cast, high production values, and the writing is quite crisp. The chief usher at the White House (the divine Giancarlo Esposito) is murdered during a state dinner, and Cordelia is brought in to solve the murder. I think what’s most interesting is the divide between the White House domestic staff v. the White House political staff; the domestics work for the House, the political staff comes and goes. I’d never really thought much about the staff of the residence, so it’s an interesting look at how that all works, and it’s very cleverly structured. Highly recommend.

I do have some errands to do today, and a lot of straightening up to do as well. I want to get some reading and writing in this morning, so I can go to the gym tomorrow (I know, right?) and get some more done. I’ve been letting things slide a lot lately, which probably means I am depressed, which isn’t surprising, given the state of the world and everything else going on in my life. I think there’s an element of why bother with this book, to be honest, which is counter-productive and quite self-destructive, but it’s hard to be productive when your default is almost always pessimism. I always knew Republicans were working very hard to destroy everything decent about this country (unfettered capitalism is sociopathic in nature), but I never dreamed they might actually succeed. To paraphrase Game of Thrones: “Whenever I wonder why the Republicans would do something so counter-productive to democracy, I like to play a little game: what is the worst reason they would want to do this?”

Littlefinger was right, even if he did end up with his throat slit for his treachery.

Yesterday I also realized that one of the great American traditions, going back to colonial days, of evading paying duties and tariffs was smuggling. I used to love to read about Colonial smugglers (John Hancock was one), and some great fiction was built up around smuggling. I’ve always thought the years of Prohibition (and alcohol smuggling) in New Orleans would be an interesting time to write about. That decade saw the rise of Huey Long to power in Louisiana, and there are some fantastic stories about that post-Storyville time here. Jean Lafitte was a pirate, too–but he was also a very successful smuggler. But again, one of the great problems of New Orleans/Louisiana research is going down wormholes and sidebars–my ADHD does not matters at all in this regard; I do remember wanting to write about “Mrs. Officer,” the first woman cop in New Orleans, who was hired because they needed a woman to search and interrogate criminal women, which was a problem during Storyville days. I mean, what a great decade to research and write about! Imagine what “Mrs. Officer”2 endured in terms of misogyny as the only woman cop in an era where women couldn’t vote.

There’s also a protest today scheduled in New Orleans, as well as around the country. I’m hoping to make it, it just depends on how tired I am after getting things done this morning. I feel pretty good right now, but that also doesn’t mean I won’t flag later, either.

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

  1. This is a classic example of why I say we don’t teach history properly (which will end up being a longer-form essay for my newsletter at some point). There were plenty of Tories during the American Revolution. There were Southern sympathizers in the North and Unionists in the South–I knew about the North, but whenever I’d come across that about the South I figured it was after-the-fact apologia, excusing Southern whites for their inhumanity. But over the least few years as I’ve done more deep dives into Alabama history, and hearing more old family stories, I’ve come to realize it was actually true. Erik Larson discusses this in more detail in his The Demons of Unrest, which I do recommend. ↩︎
  2. SHe was always referred to as “Mrs. Officer,” which also makes a great title. ↩︎

What a Fool Believes

I’ve always been a fool, but my brain has always worked to convince me that is not the truth. (Spoiler: it is. I am constantly amazed at how foolish I am, or have been, which is one of the many reasons I second-guess myself all the damned time.) I often deceive myself that I handle things better than I do, and it seems I often don’t have the necessary distance from things to evaluate them properly.

I finally wrote about my friendship with Dorothy Allison yesterday on my newsletter; if you are so inclined you can click there and read it (you can also subscribe while you’re there, or not, it’s up to you). She died right after the election, and I never like to share my grief publicly (still fighting that “never bleed in public” training from childhood), because it’s personal to me. Doing the reading on Sunday, I realized I was finally in a place where I could mourn her publicly. Likewise, I didn’t want to do the last-minute reading in honor of Felice Picano because it was too soon. I’ll write about Felice one day, probably this summer, when someone or something will remind me of him and I’ll know it’s time. I hate being at the point in life when you start losing friends with greater regularity. That’s the thing they never tell you about getting old–being older means getting used to loss, and really, that’s about it.

Yesterday was a decent day. It was slow at clinic so I got a lot of my admin work caught up, but I wasn’t all there, if that makes any sense. I wasn’t tired, but just felt…drained. Not sure what that was about, so I came home and did chores, watched LSU win the regional semifinal by breaking 198.00 again (GEAUX TIGERS!), so they’ll be competing in the final tomorrow, and we started watching The Residence, which got off to an interesting start before I went to bed early. I feel pretty good this morning, have some work to do here, and then later will run errands. I mean, I feel as good as I can giving the fact that retirement is beginning to look like it won’t be an option for me ever–and what is most likely is involuntary retirement because of funding cuts. Thanks again, MAGA voters, for giving me another reason to despise you with every fiber of my being–and other people might forgive you at some point, but I never fucking will, and I’ll go to my grave hating and despising you fucking racist and homophobic pieces of shit. The only thing that is getting me through this stress is the grim satisfaction of knowing they’re suffering even worse and they know it’s their own fault. I will never stop belittling and mocking them as long as I have breath in my body. Staying positive in the age of negativity is definitely a challenge…especially now that Wall Street has cratered and we are on the brink of a world-wide depression that is no one’s fault but our own.

I also realized that today’s title really works, because I still cling to the belief that somehow we’ll survive this illegitimate regime and it won’t get that terribly bad. I’ve been bankrupt before, I can live through it again, I suppose. But this is what the Republicans have been pushing for since the Reagan misadministration, which I’ve been saying for fucking decades, only to be dismissed as lightly as Cassandra on the walls of Troy (I really would love to write from her perspective; I can imagine no curse greater than being able to see the future only to have no one believe you. No wonder she went mad)? There have been few, if any, good Republicans since the party was overhauled when everyone who’d really experienced the Great Depression1 was dead and couldn’t remind everyone of the policies that led to that disaster. And here we are, almost to the hundred year anniversary of the stock market crash and the depression that followed.

Americans never learn from their history and always repeat it. We are not a nation of smart people.

And on that truly sad note, I’ll head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I will definitely check in on you either later or tomorrow.

  1. Worth mentioning that the collapse of our economy led to the same thing, only worse, around the world, which led to the rise of fascism. In true American narcissism, the Great Depression is always taught as an American issue, rather than a global one–another way history is taught incorrectly. ↩︎