Category: movies

Turtles All The Way Down

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I also only have to work Monday and Tuesday of next week, so I pretty much have a rather lengthy vacation with a two-day work break. Yay! It’ll be nice to relax and recharge and hang out with the boys and make progress on everything, sleep as late as Sparky will let me…woo-hoo!

Yesterday was a busy day in the clinic–the afternoon, at any rate–but I stayed on top of most everything somehow. Today should be somewhat easier, and I can get caught up on the few things I am behind on (mostly Admin work, processing paperwork from yesterday) before the stay-at-home day and my weekend. I feel pretty good this morning (more sleep would be lovely, but isn’t necessary) and am in a pretty decent mood. I didn’t do a lot yesterday when I got home from work; I went uptown to get the mail after work, which was an adventure because I left the office late. Got some Christmas cards (apologies again, everyone) in the mail, and my Anthropic settlement information. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City–which was a rather silly episode, but quite fun. I caught up on the news, refused to watch whatever speech that was that aired last night (and from what I am seeing this morning, I didn’t miss anything; so to me at least, it seems like it was nothing more than a distraction from the Vanity Fair disaster and all the other disasters rooted in this administration1), and then did some light picking up and filing before going to bed. I feel rested and good, miraculous for a Thursday, and cannot believe Christmas is a week from today. It was dark when I went uptown last night, and on my way home from Uptown last night I saw a lot of decorated houses, which kind of made me feel Christmasy. We’re getting a new television from Costco as a Christmas gift to ourselves. I don’t feel like we really need a new one, honestly, but the one we have is over ten years old, and Paul has been hankering for a new television, for reasons unknown to me, for several months now. I bought our current one at Target on the West Bank as a Christmas gift for the apartment all those long years ago. I don’t really care about gifts anymore, which has been a conundrum these last years because we don’t really need anything, so we’ve kind of abandoned birthday and Christmas presents. We usually, for example, get Chinese food for our birthdays as a treat, or a pizza from a place that’s inconvenient to go to.

I am hoping to get a couple of newsletters done over the weekend and set to post over a week or so; I need to finish my essays on Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem, The Princess Bride, and General Hospital, and I have a new essay series I am planning, about my lifelong obsession with all things ancient Egyptian; which will be a lot of fun to write, methinks2. I also need to finish reading The Postman Always Rings Twice, and start my next read over this weekend as well (it’s looking like a toss-up between a Dorothy B. Hughes classic and the latest Eli Cranor). There’s absolutely no reason I can’t get a lot of reading and writing done over the holiday break, as well as cleaning and organizing with plenty of time to be lazy and relax. Staycations are kind of nice, actually. I also don’t think the clinic is busy next week, either; but after New Year’s, YIKES.

I didn’t watch this week’s new episode of Heated Rivalry, but I did see that Netflix canceled Boots, in what can only be seen as a capitulation of the company to the Pentagon, because the Secretary of Alcoholism didn’t think it “properly depicted the Warrior Ethos of the military.” I’d like to see that drunk rapist adulterous piece of shit make it through Boot Camp, and based on every piece of video evidence I’ve seen, that piece of shit can’t even do a pull-up properly. Such a masculine stud! Netflix also wants to acquire Warner Brothers, so they’re dancing around the Administration’s whining bitch-ass complaints. Leavenworth is too good for this piece of shit’s war crimes, and I also think he should be turned over to the Hague. Anyway, I digressed away from the point (because that piece of shit makes my blood boil), which was that a co-worker asked me in the elevator the other morning if I “wrote m/m romance under a different name.” I was a bit taken aback at first, but I just replied no, but kept thinking about it the rest of the day, and it’s popped back into my head any number of times since then.

I’ve not written anything that could be strictly considered romance other than a couple of short stories here and there over the years. I don’t read much romance–my supervisor loaned me an m/m romance novel last year that I still haven’t read, but writing gay romance (or “m/m”, whatever; but there are distinctions) is something that has occurred to me over the years. I do have several ideas for them, but they’re more romantic stories than actually romance. It would be a challenge, I think, but I love challenges and pushing myself to try to write new things I’ve not done before. I do need to read more romances, though, in order to really write a good one. Ever since Charles (shout out to Charles Click!) mentioned this to me the other morning, a sports one has kind of started taking shape in my head–partly because I already wrote an erotic short story about an athlete (who wasn’t a wrestler, LOL) that could easily be adapted to a novel.

Something to think about, anyway. Maybe after Chlorine.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow! From my workspace at home between the windows!

  1. At least we’re not invading Venezuela…yet. Happy with what you voted for, MAGAts? ↩︎
  2. And it gives me the opportunity and excuse to watch The Mummy movies with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz again. ↩︎

Strawberry Wine

Sunday morning and I do hope all is well with you, Constant Reader! It rained overnight, so it’s a bit chillier this morning than it was yesterday (yesterday was a beautiful day, sunny and in the low seventies); the cold weather comes in tonight around bedtime. How lovely! I slept late this morning, and Sparky let me, for the most part, cuddling rather than trying to get me up most of the time. Yesterday was, for its part, mostly quiet and restful. I didn’t push myself to get things done the way I had hoped, but Paul didn’t have his trainer yesterday and decided to hang out rather than go to the office, so I spent most of the dat in my chair watching television with Paul. I watched two more French history documentaries–this time, histories of the Capet and Bourbon dynasties. We also watched Caught Stealing with Austin Butler, which was different than what we were expecting. The previews made it seem like a black comedy, and yes, there were moments of black humor in the movie, but it was more of a thriller than anything else. My primary takeaway was that Austin Butler is incredibly beautiful (which I’ve known since The Shannara Chronicles), and has the kind of charisma that is very hard to stop watching. It was one of those ‘endless nightmare’ movies, where doing a punk neighbor a favor takes the main character down a path of violence and endless, deadly mess. It also has an insanely good cast, too–Regina King, Zoe Kravitz, Liev Shrieber, etc.–and of course, was directed by Darren Aronofsky.

I did finish scanning my notes from my journal yesterday, which felt like a win, and I did some cleaning and organizing, too. The house feels very snug this morning–warm and cozy–which is really nice, and means I will get to spend some more time in my chair this morning reading and watching another history documentary; I found one on Louis XIII yesterday–the King of The Three Musketeers–who has always been overshadowed in French history by his father and son, as well as his chief minister, Cardinal Richelieu, who remains one of my favorite people in history. (I never could have picked an era of history to concentrate on had I become an historian…) The reign of Louis XIII is a very interesting period in French history, and that could very well be because of The Three Musketeers and my fervent desire to write the story from Milady’s perspective. That’s probably a pipe dream because I’ll never have the time to research and write the story, but it’s always there in the corner of my mind, like an annoying splinter that nags at me from time to time.

Today is going to be only slightly less relaxing from yesterday. I do need to clean and organize some more, and I do need to both read and write today. I also finished my old journal and started a new one this morning (and I put the date in it this time; I had a sense of time in the old ones based on the notes on short stories and novels I was actively working on at the time I was recording things in the journals, but the date will be ever so much more helpful, you know?). I also found a safe, out of the way place to store them going forward. I will continue to have to periodically do this with them, as I move on to other projects I’ve taken voluminous notes on in them–as well as short story and essay ideas that never moved from there to the active files–but it’s kind of fun to scan the pages and label them and put them away in the computer files. (That OCD thing never has gone completely away, and probably never will. Yay for chemical imbalances that are useful!)

The new season of Percy Jackson has dropped, too, which I am also looking forward to watching. I loved the world of Percy Jackson, and those are the books you should be giving your kids, not that other unoriginal and entirely ripped off fantasy series for kids whose author is raw sewage on a good day and a fiend from hell on bad ones. I greatly enjoyed reading the Percy Jackson books, and Rick Riordan’s other mythology based juvenile series are really the best, most engaging books. I would have loved them when I was a kid, because I loved ancient history and mythology growing up (thanks to Time-Life’s Great Ages of Man series, which my parents got for me). I’ve been trying to unpack my childhood and my life-long interests, and where those interests came from. Egypt, of course, is my favorite ancient empire; I’ve always had an affinity for Egypt and have always been drawn to it. (I’ve recently started another essay series about my Egyptian interests…beginning with the Time/Life Ancient Egypt book, a juvenile book called Cleopatra of Egypt and another one that was a mystery, The Mystery of the Pharaoh’s Treasure–and others along the way, including Amelia Peabody and Robin Cook’s Sphinx.)

And well, on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines for the day. I have to run to the grocery store, which I am going to do this morning, methinks, before coming back here and getting cleaned up and get that all over with…but first I am going to watch that documentary on Louis XIII while drinking coffee, eating breakfast and waking up completely. Have a lovely Sunday, wherever you find yourself, Constant Reader.

These lights–from the former human trafficking site Houmas House–are gorgeous.

East Bound and Down

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well and peaceful. I have fed His Majesty, Tuglas MacSparkle, and he went back upstairs to cuddle in bed with Paul. Yesterday was a very nice day; I got my work done, as well as a lot of chores. I had groceries delivered, picked up the mail, and then relaxed into my evening. We got caught up on South Park (oh my GOD1), Heated Rivalry, and finished Death by Lightning before moving on to the latest Knives Out movie, Wake Up Dead Man, which referenced the works of John Dickson Carr (whom I have not read). I also watched a documentary on the French House of Valois, which was very interesting. All were thoroughly enjoyable, too. These Benoit Blanc mystery movies are so much fun, so cleverly written and filmed, and there’s always some pithy commentary on a social issue–in this one, religion and power–which doesn’t hit you over the head with a sledgehammer, but are there if you’re paying attention. The acting is also fantastic; Daniel Craig is terrific as Benoit, and Josh O’Connor is terrific as the main suspect, a compassionate priest confronted with a toxic parish led by a toxic churchman. I also slept really well last night, too–and His Majesty let me sleep later than usual, which was also very nice. Thanks, Sparky!

I do enjoy being rested, you know? I also need to do some reading and things this morning while I do some more chores. I need to get the dishwasher unloaded, the floors done, and some other filing and so forth finished. I also need to work on writing, too. I want to finish The Postman Always Rings Twice reread; the month is almost half over and I’ve done so little for Noirmas that it’s kind of sad. Maybe I’ll rewatch something classic this morning, or after Paul goes off to his trainer; there’s no football today, after all. I think I have both In a Lonely Place and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers on the Hulu DVR; either of which would work. Or perhaps some 1980s neo-noir? You can never go wrong with Body Heat or Masquerade, after all, or some of those other unsettling films from the 1980s.

But I also have to decide whether I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend or not; next weekend would be too late, of course, and I have to send Dad his gift in the mail–which is more of a joke gift, but it should make him laugh, and that’s what matters.

I also want to start paring things down again. Another sweep through the books, a box from the attic, and straightening and reorganizing the pantry and my cabinets and the refrigerator. I also am going to be working on gathering my Chlorine notes, so I can review them all and start sketching out the story and figuring out my characters and who they are and making it slick and tight. Obviously, the first draft will not be done by the end of the year, which is what I was hoping for, but time has this nasty habit of slipping through my fingers lately. (And by lately, I mean the last twenty years.) I already feel like this morning is slipping away from me already, too. Those kinds of thoughts used to lead to anxiety spirals, and no, I do not miss those horrible spirals in the least. They were exhausting, really; anxiety spirals always led to adrenaline bursts which inevitably left me exhausted and worn out and tired to the bone; like driving to Kentucky. This last time was wonderful. I wasn’t in the least bit concerned about getting there as fast as I could, didn’t worry about losing time, and recognized that the time driving was actually out of my control–traffic is something I am, and always will be, at its mercy–and as such, no adrenaline spikes and no anxiousness and no utter exhaustion when I finally arrived. It’s nice to be able to relax and listen to a book as I drive through the deep South.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, another piece of coffee cake, and repair to my easy chair to read for a moment before getting cleaned up and my day started. It does look really nice out there; perhaps today I can take a walk around the neighborhood? We’ll have to see. Anyway, it’s off to the spice mines with me for the day; may your day be whatever you wish it to be. I’ll be back again on the morrow.

Sexy, yes–but I can’t help but wonder if there are body parts in that bag for some reason.
  1. The fact that MAGA and Fox are pretending that the show isn’t viciously skewering this administration tells me that it’s definitely getting under their skin and scoring direct hits. ↩︎

You’ve Never Been This Far

Work at home Friday! I have to go to Quest this morning to get some bloodwork done (the joys of being an old gay in his sixties never stop, believe you me), but this is the last test for something new for awhile, and will determine whether I need additional treatment for something else… I don’t know, though. I feel pretty good and have energy and there’s not even a hint of brain fog anymore, which is kind of like having enough oxygen after breathing in smoke for years. I know that might sound extreme, but that’s how I look at it because that’s how it feels. I still have short term memory issues (i,e, going into the kitchen and forgetting why I went in there to begin with), but those are bearable and so much better than every other symptom of this nonsense I’ve been dealing with this decade. But, as I have said and will continue to say and believe, it’s so nice to know there was a medical issue to blame these past five-going-on-six years rather than it be from getting older and more frail and feeble. And, even with those issues, I managed to get things done anyway.

That’s something, isn’t it?

I did stop on the way home last night to make groceries, but forgot a few things (of course) so am going to have to go out this weekend to get those, or perhaps simply have them delivered. After I got home and Sparky commanded my attention while watching the news, I did get some laundry started, but that was about it. I went down some Youtube wormholes for research–I am writing an essay about US History, wrapped around the PBS series The American Revolution, with a shout out to Hamilton–which was a lot of fun. I do love me some history. I also am going to start writing my essays about powerful women of the sixteenth century, under the Monstrous Regiment of Women umbrella. I also scanned some notes from my journal for Chlorine, and I hope to get that finished today. There’s no college football this weekend, so Saturday yawns wide open and free.

I’ve already been to Quest to get the lab work done and have come home to finish this and do my work-at-home duties along with my other chores. I wasn’t gone more than thirty minutes, including driving and parking, which really isn’t bad. Of course, before the anxiety medicine I would have been sitting in the lobby, scrolling through my phone or reading my book or some combination of the two, while fidgeting the entire time. I left here just after eight and was back by eight forty, which isn’t terrible. Feeling good and better rested and losing the brain fog has made me really appreciate the anti-anxiety medication all the more, because there’s not that tension building inside all the time anymore, which is also very relaxing; not being tightly wound is quite marvelous, and I don’t know how I managed sixty years plus without said medication. Better late than never.

I saw yesterday that Liam Neeson did the narration for an antivax documentary singing the praises of RFK Jr, and the dangers of vaccines and the COVID hoax and so forth; welp, Mr. Neeson will never be watched in anything ever again in this household. It speaks a lot to who he is, doesn’t it? Either he’s a medical conspiracy moron, or he’s a whore who’ll take a paycheck no matter what he has to do for it. In either case, not someone whose career I have any interest in continuing to support any longer. (I also noted that Sydney Sweeney has also decided to distance herself from MAGA and her white supremacy antics–now that her career is taking and her films are bombing. Never forget that smug smirk on her face when she declined to comment on the controversy. She’s fucking trash. MAGA men just like your tits, bitch, they aren’t going to see your movies.) I also refuse to support any garbage actors who are getting Harry Potter paychecks in the future. You know who and what the Chatelaine of Castle TERF is; don’t plead fucking ignorance. You like blood money. Nice to know who’d be filming with Leni Reifenstahl in the 1930s.

I also saw the Supergirl trailer yesterday and really liked it. I’m sure the comic book incels will hate it, as they hate all women super-heroes. Seriously, little boys–why do powerful women trigger you so much?

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you again tomorrow morning.

I Take a Lot of Pride in What I Am

So, this is another Monday in one of the last weeks of 2025. I slept well, and only hit snooze twice, which was unusual. I feel rested and good this morning, which is absolutely delightful. I didn’t get all my chores done over the weekend, so I’ll have to put away dishes and so forth when I get home from work this evening. I also have some dishes to wash and put through the dishwasher, too. Yesterday was a nice, lovely, relaxing day. I finished watching The American Revolution and New Orleans Soul of a City (the last one was about the Saints and the Superdome–so the series was food, music, Carnival, and the Saints; pretty much the soul of New Orleans). The college football play-off seedings were released, to the anger of several fan bases, and LSU is going to the Texas Bowl to play Houston in Houston. We also watched The Roses, which was interesting. I also spent a lot of time scanning journal pages into my computer so I can get all my notes over the years on Chlorine easily accessible and in one place. It’s chilly this morning, but the rest of the week (I think) will have highs in the 1970s.

ICE is here, sweeping the city with a goal of five thousand “criminals” to deport from the New Orleans area–and they are doing it so far with all the skill, efficiency, and Constitutional adherence they’ve shown everywhere else they’ve invaded with their Gestapo tactics. The reports so far seem to have netted only thirty-eight arrests, a third of whom had criminal records (odds they’ll be here through Carnival?), and they seem to have primarily focused on the immigrant community in Kenner, the suburb with the airport and the last one before you hit swamp heading west on I-10. A friendly reminder, that always needs to be mentioned, that immigrants rebuilt the city after Katrina. That’s why New Orleans was a sanctuary city: gratitude, which always seems to be in such short supply in the American psyche. I’ve been blocking the racist trash from the outer parishes and “metro area” who always claim to be from New Orleans but never are, who show up with their hateful bullshit on social media. I drove one bitch all the way off Threads recently, who pulled the I live in New Orleans which then became I’m from New Orleans to I was born in New Orleans but a quick search of her social media (wide open, I might add) showed she actually lives in ALABAMA, like the lying piece of racist trash she was, and that her husband worked for a government contractor. When I asked her how her husband’s employer would react to her being a racist lying piece of shit on-line, POOF. She was gone.

Keep New Orleans out of your disgusting, filthy, lying racist-ass mouths–and if you’re going to be such a troll on-line, don’t use your real name and leave all of your social media open. They’re rarely smart, you know?

And for the record, racist skanks in the burbs, New Orleans has always had crime; it’s a port fucking city. The history of this city is drenched in blood spilled by violence. Y’all fled the city after integration. Fuck ALL the way off.

Nothing makes my blood boil more than non-New Orleanians complaining about New Orleans. Begone! You have no power here!

But as always, going through the journals to scan my notes from Chlorine (I actually found the very first time I wrote the idea down, which was kind of cool) was revelatory; I really need to go through my journals more regularly to remind myself what is in there. There are some terrific ideas for short stories and essays in there, as well as notes on multiple projects that are still unfinished. As I was saying yesterday, my journals are far more informative about my writing process than anything in the files, so I think one of my projects for the rest of December is to ditch a lot of my files and get everything compressed into the filing cabinet. I also need to prune the books some more, and start clearing out the storage attic, and take everything off the tops of the kitchen cabinets (I literally have boxes of books everywhere).

And then there’s that moment when Carl Hiaasen shares your newsletter post reviewing hid book Fever Beach–yes, I still fanboy all the time. Eeee! (And it’s getting lots of likes and shares, which is really cool and was never the point of the review!)

And so, without anymore delays, I am heading into the spice mines this morning. Have yourself a merry little Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on Tuesday morning!

The river parishes light bonfires on the levees to direct Papa Noel, an incredibly cool Louisiana tradition. They feature prominently in Ellen Byron’s mystery A Cajun Country Christmas.

Pray to Jesus

Saturday in the Lost Apartment, although I suppose it’s Championship Saturday. I’ll have the games on for background noise but I don’t care about their outcomes. If they’re good games, I’ll watch; if not, I can just check in periodically while I do other things. I still need to put things away from yesterday’s Costco run, and some other touching up around here today, while organizing and pulling all my notes together for my new project, which I intend to commit to entirely tomorrow morning once I rise. Sparky let me sleep late this morning like the little darling he is, even cuddling with me the last few hours before I got up. I feel good and rested this morning. Paul is seeing his trainer today, and will inevitably (like always) spend a few more hours at the gym on the bike. I am looking to get back to the gym myself, probably after Mardi Gras. I feel terrific. My doctor agreed with me that I probably had been experiencing the colitis for several years before it finally got so bad this past spring, and was why I experienced so much fatigue. There’s also a possibility that I have “pernicious anemia” (I love the name. Pernicious–such a fun word!), an opportunistic autoimmune situation that sometimes tags along with colitis and causes Vitamin B-12 deficiency…which can affect memory and fatigue, and would require me to get a monthly shot. Yay.

I also have to get labs drawn again this coming Friday–the same day my next Skyrizi injection arrives in the mail.

We started watching Heated Rivalry last night, and I will have thoughts on it once we’ve finished. (And…it’s another one of those newsletter essays that will play into my series about masculinity.) I also caught up on the news last night after unloading the car and heating a pizza up for dinner. I am debating whether or not to watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, since I detest most of the cast and don’t enjoy watching it anymore. It’s not even a fun hate-watch anymore. I also started my reread of The Postman Always Rings Twice, which is so marvelous and nasty and, above all else, working class, that I see why it bothered people so much when it was originally published in the 1930s. It’s also hella racist, which I didn’t remember–which also explains the casting of Lana Turner in the film; no one would ever mistake her for Hispanic/Latino like Cora in the book. I am also very glad that I am rereading it, because it has that edge of nastiness that noir needs, and isn’t currently present in the first three chapters of Chlorine, and while roaming the aisles at Costco yesterday I was thinking about how to rewrite it. My main character is not a hero, and I have to remember that why I write him. That’s a significant mind shift for me when I write, really.

In football news, Tulane won their conference championship last night and are going to the play-offs for the first time in school history, but reports they were hiring LSU’s Brian Baker proved untrue as it was announced Baker would be staying on in Baton Rouge. LSU football is all over the news still down here, indicating a statewide level of excitement for the new coach that wasn’t there for Brian Kelly, ever, other than after that overtime win over Alabama his first year…but that excitement died down very quickly. Ironic that his best season was his first, rebuilding year, isn’t it? I think part of the excitement is joy at being rid of Kelly, frankly. I was willing to give him a chance, but he never really delivered.

At least he broke the streak of losing season openers that has plagued the Tigers this entire decade, and he did beat Alabama in a thriller in 2022. And he signed Jayden Daniels. Three good things out of almost four seasons.

And on that note, I am heading to my chair to read some more of Postman before getting cleaned up and getting to work on the apartment. I am also going to make chicken chili today, and some chicken salad for Paul. A very big day for me! It’s also gray and chilly and supposed to rain all day, too–an excellent day for reading under a blanket with the television on. I may watch an episode of The American Revolution, which I am really enjoying; it’s so nice to see our history without all the myths and legends that sprang up about it after the second world war.

So have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in on you again tomorrow morning, deal?

Maybe It Was Memphis

Maybe it wasn’t?

Sunday here in the Lost Apartment, and all is well. LSU won, 13-10, not a particularly impressive showing. (Tulane also won, GO WAVE!) The games yesterday weren’t exciting or interesting, so after Paul got up we alternated between games and other things (more on that later). It was a very nice relaxing day, over all. I did run some errands in the morning, but after I got home that was it; no more outside for me this weekend. It was actually in the 80s yesterday, too. I didn’t do much cleaning around here yesterday, either, and the kitchen is a total mess (because I made Shrimp Creole last night for dinner) which I will need to clean up at some point this morning. I also didn’t read much yesterday, either; something I need to rectify this morning. I mean, it is a real messy mess. Yikes.

I dropped off four boxes of books to the library sale yesterday morning, and yes, this pruning of the books had helped de-clutter the living room, and I also came across some books I’d forgotten that I had–juvenile mysteries, amongst other things–which was also kind of cool. I’m planning to do another round of pruning once I get back from the trip (but probably not next weekend; I’m going to spend Sunday recovering from the drive); progress! I also want to start working on the storage attic. I know, the non-stop rollercoaster thrill ride of my life is almost too much to read about, isn’t it?

But I came across copies from a juvenile series, Ken Holt, that I really loved when I was a kid (still one of my favorites; it’s a toss-up between this series and The Three Investigators) and while paging through one of the copies (The Secret of Hangman’s Inn) I remembered how incredibly homoerotic the series was, particularly the relationship between Ken and his best friend, Sandy Allen–they are often around each other in varying stages of undress, including nude, for one example–and often share rooms and beds. There’s definitely an essay for the newsletter about this series, its homoeroticism, and how well the books are actually written. They all have a hard-boiled, noir-ish aesthetic that I loved. They were shot at with real ammunition, had to outwit and out think criminals, and since they were journalists (despite being so young) Ken’s write-ups of their cases and Sandy’s photos often went into syndication. Not bad for a pair of eighteen-year-olds! I also think this series is why I kind of wanted to be a journalist when I first went to college–but that is also a story for another time.

I didn’t write anything on the computer yesterday, but I did spend a lot of time writing in my journal. I also went back and reread my current one from the start, picking up on notes and ideas and thoughts about several things I am working on. I came across some excellent notes for Chlorine, for example, and as I reread my notes (just from this journal) I recognized something–part of the problem I am having with writing further into the book is base premise that starts the book doesn’t really work or make sense; the stakes aren’t high enough for my main character to get involved to begin with, and so I have to amp them up, kill my darlings, and maybe start over. I get very stubborn about throwing stuff out that I’ve already written, but those chapters are salvageable, kind of; I may be able to use the bits and pieces, but I am going to dive into it, headfirst, in December with the goal of getting a first draft finished by the end of the year. Stubbornness about your work is not a good quality for an author to have.

I also got my contributor copy of Celluloid Crimes, which ironically has the short story I adapted from Chlorine’s first chapter, “The Last To See Him Alive,” which is still a good story and I do love that title an awful lot. It’s always nice to see your work in actual print in a book, you know?

Around the games we watched some of the skating from Cup of Finland, this week’s season finale of The Morning Show, and a lot of the news shows. I am still processing the Friday news; the bromance in the Oval with FOTUS basically rolling over on his back and showing Zohran Mamdani his belly, and it may take me a while longer to wrap my head around the devolution of the MAGA movement into fascism and Nazism with the embrace of Nick Fuentes, the gay Latino Nazi, which makes no sense to me but I’ve never understood people who lick the boots on their own throats.

I am also really enjoying Ken Burns’ The American Revolution, which at least is honest and doesn’t really get into any of the weird national mythology we’ve built up around our history–basically to erase any wrong-doing and eradicate any questioning of the endless justifications for stealing an entire continent from its inhabitants. The Americas weren’t discovered and colonized; they were actually conquered, in a mass genocide that lasted centuries. US History and the American Revolution were actually my gateways into my lifelong obsession and interest in history; watching this series is reminding me of how I went from US History to English history to European history, with some dabbling in the ancients (Egypt, Greece, Rome); I really should have majored in History, the primary problem being picking a particular period to specialize in. As I said the other day, I should have majored in History with a minor in creative writing, and I could have become a historian like Barbara Tuchman; her A Distant Mirror remains one of my favorite histories and served as an inspiration for my idea to write a popular history of the sixteenth by focusing on women holding power…that century remains an outlier in Europe when it comes to powerful women and queens. I am probably going to write an essay about my interest in US History, and one about my interest in ancient Egypt.

And on that note, I am going to take my coffee into the living room to see if any more news has broken since I went to bed last night, after which I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

The temple at Edfu, Egypt

Long Long Time

Thursday and my last day in the office before the weekend. I slept really well last night–I even forgot to set the alarm but woke up on time on my own, without an assist from Sparky. My legs feel a bit fatigued, but that’s not a big deal. I was also very productive last night when I got home from work. I did the dishes and finished the laundry, and then made mac ‘n’ cheese for our potluck today at work. (I now have more dishes to do, but that’s okay.) Paul has a gala event for the TWF to attend tonight, so he’ll be home late, probably after I fall asleep. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, by far and away my favorite of these marvelously trashy shows, and went to bed relatively early. Tonight when I get home (after an errand) I will unload the dishwasher and reload it, and try to get the kitchen straightened up as much as I can so I don’t have to do it over the weekend. I also need to make a list for the trip–things to take, and things to get done before I leave–and after I do all that tonight, I’ll probably read for a bit.

Being oblivious, it never dawned on me that this month is Noirvember (despite seeing lots of posts about it, and even commenting on some…my grasp of the obvious is slippery at best) which would have made it perfect for another reading project. Sigh. I should have spent this month reading (and watching) noir! Especially since I am getting ready to really immerse myself in writing one. Making I can make the project Noir for the Holidays, and move it back to December? Heavy heaving sigh. I have a ton of noirs in my ebook library–there was a big sale on the marvelous Dorothy B. Hughes recently and I snapped up quite few of them, and two–Ride the Pink Horse and The Fallen Sparrow– look especially interesting, as do some of the Jim Thompsons I’ve also gotten on sale. I also want to revisit some of James M. Cain’s classics, and maybe even some I’ve not read. I also would like to rewatch In a Lonely Place and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers…so much awesome noir out there!!

I’ve also been revisiting Fleetwood Mac lately, mostly inspired by Buckingham Nicks finally being released on DVD and to streaming services. It’s a great album, yes, but as I listened and enjoyed it, I kept thinking it was missing something. Yesterday on my way to work I played Rumours in the car (and on the way home; today I am listening to Mirage) and it hit me: that is what’s missing from Buckingham Nicks–the keyboards and harmonies of Christine McVie, and that incomparable rhythm section of Mick and John. Some of these songs got repurposed later as Fleetwood Mac recordings, but really–they should have just rerecorded it as a Fleetwood Mac record. The interesting thing about their music collectively is it holds up still, all these years later, and most of the albums are masterpieces.

Oh, if you’re interested in trying my mac ‘n’;’ cheese, the recipe is here, if you’d like to give it a try. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. It is a LOT of cheese, and if you’re dieting, don’t bother, as it also calls for heavy cream, half-and-half, and sour cream on top of about 32 ounces of cheese.

And ICE is here, staying at the Riverside Hilton and apparently using the Riverwalk parking as a staging area for evil. I bet those ICE agents were also really excited about being reassigned to New Orleans…mwah ha ha ha ha. New Orleans is a city known for its, well, everything, but its hospitality is always top notch, unless you aren’t wanted here. Sure, Louisiana is a red state (look at the pitiful fools we sent to Washington and our state government of fools–a true confederacy of dunces), but New Orleans gave 83% of its vote to Harris/Walz. The orangutan never even drew twenty percent of the vote here once in three tries, and immigrants rebuilt this city after Katrina. This isn’t going to go the way ICE thinks it will…and there’s so much interference on a basic level here. It’s not like our streets make sense to begin with, and they are riddled with deceptively deep potholes. We have second-lines all the time, and it’s also marching band practice season with Carnival just around the corner. High speed chases here end in fatalities all the time because the streets make no sense, are often insanely narrow, and change one-way directions all over the city. Compass directions make no sense here; the sun rises over the West Bank every morning and you drive east to get to the north shore. I hope we have several flooding rains here during their stay.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a great Thursday, everyone, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

Dust in a Baggie

Tuesday morning and here we are, about to head into the spice mines again. Yesterday was a weird day; I felt okay and rested in the morning and had no problem with getting up; but once I was at work I felt kind of tired, and after lunch, I was also kind of stomach-achey. No distress, no issues, nothing like when I was sick in the spring, but it was kind of uncomfortable and unpleasant, nevertheless; I think maybe because I didn’t eat dinner on Sunday and maybe over-stretched it with breakfast and lunch. I don’t know, I am grasping at any straw that doesn’t signal relapse.

Especially before I take a long driving trip, you know?

Heavy heaving sigh. So, like I said, my ass was dragging last night when I got off from work. I stopped and made a bit of groceries on the way home–nothing much, mind you, but wanting to take advantage of a sale that ends Wednesday to stock up on Paul’s diet Cokes–and was really dragging by the time I got home from that. Sparky was more than happy to nap in my lap (after being fed, natch), so what else could I do but provide a lap for my kitty to sleep in? I got caught up on the news (yeesh) and when Paul got home, we finished Lazarus–very interesting end to the season, I must say–and then I went to bed. I slept pretty well, but this morning I am still a bit worn down. We’re going to be super-busy in the clinic again, and I am by myself today yet again. It really is little wonder that I am too tired to do much when I get home, isn’t it? But the apartment is sliding into mess again, so hopefully I’ll have the energy tonight to do some cleaning and the dishes, which are stacking up yet again. Heavy heaving sigh. I’ll have to resist Sparky’s nap/lap wiles when I get home tonight–at least at first.

I didn’t even read last night, I was so tired.

I do think I slept better last night than I did on Sunday night, though, so I have pretty good hopes for the day. I think it’s a good idea to have hopes and expectations for the day, rather than going into it feeling miserable and just wanting to get it all over with, you know? Or is my morning coffee simply starting to kick in? It’s a mystery! I think tonight we’re going to start watching that new Emma Thompson series; it certainly looks interesting, and I have always loved Emma Thompson in any and everything1; so a suspense series with her is right up my alley. I also want to see that new Alan Ritchson movie, with Kevin James, Playdate. The previews look hilarious, and, well, you know. Alan Ritchson. (Who went to high school with Matt Gaetz and hates him–just another reason to love Ritchson, really.)

I saw an interesting take on Marjorie Taylor Greene’s break with Trump yesterday–in which the commentator said they think she’s sincere and a true believer, and the way she’s been acting these past few weeks has been consistent with someone having their belief system blown up in their face. I will add, though, that she is intensely ambitious, and her disappointment in not getting Trump’s approval or endorsement for a Senate run was probably the first domino to fall there. I think she’s getting ahead of the MAGA crash, and positioning herself to be a party leader…much more so than either of the three others who signed the discharge petition. (Although Nancy Mace wants to be governor of South Carolina, but I have no idea if Boebert or Massie have further ambitions, either.) It’s also been interesting seeing the trash that have been calling queer people and drag queens groomers and pedophiles for the last–well, forever–circling the wagons around their pedo leader and cover-up.

As we said all along, it was never about the children. It’s never about the children with the Right, just like it’s never about helping unwanted babies negotiate life, either.

So delighted no one would ever listen to the queers, you know? I wish I had a dollar for every straight white asshole (sadly, mostly women) who told us to calm down in 2016 and 2024–something I personally never said about abortion rights. Who’s the real shitty ally? Hmm?

So tiresome and predictable–and is there anything more infuriating than being condescended to?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines where I can ignore the country burning to the ground for a while–at least until I get off work. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back bright and early tomorrow.

The temple of Pharaoh Hatshepsut–the most famous woman ruler of ancient Egypt
  1. My favorite performance of hers remains Dead Again, which I should rewatch. It doesn’t get nearly as much attention as it deserves. ↩︎

18 Wheels and a Dozen Roses

Monday morning and back to the office with me today. I slept well last night and feel alive and awake this morning, so huzzah for that at any rate. I don’t know how busy we are today in the clinic, but it’s just me for now and going forward for I don’t know how long and so I don’t know how tired I will be getting this week at work, either. Meh, we’ll see how it all goes, won’t we? It was a nice weekend of not getting a lot done, which is okay. I felt drained yesterday, and very low energy, so mostly spent the day in my chair with Sparky watching research videos1; I also made a lot of notes in my journal, which is always a good thing. I wasn’t particularly motivated, either. I also read for a while into my Donna Andrews book, but wasn’t really able to focus a lot and thus didn’t read much, but it was a nice start. Maybe this week and this weekend I can get the book finished; I can also take it with me on the trip to finish, if need be. It’s hard to believe that next week is actually Thanksgiving already, and time for my lengthy drive up north. Heavy sigh. But it’ll be very nice to be up there, methinks, and despite the inevitable exhaustion and fatigue that will come from said drive, I’ll enjoy spending time with Dad.

And I am not going to worry about writing or doing anything while I am up there, other than reading and resting and relaxing….since that is all that ever happens when I am up there. Which is not a bad thing, I am learning that taking down time to recalibrate and rest and recharge my batteries WITHOUT GUILT is actually necessary, and I am tired of beating myself up all the time because I am not more driven than I already am, you know? One of my goals for this year was to be kinder to myself, and that’s kind of going fairly well. I still slip back into the old, self-defeating mentality every once in a while, though, but it’s not a daily thing and not being anxious all the time is also kind of nice.

I’ve also been paging through The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey, and remembering now how stupid the whole thing was when I first read the book when I was in my teens and soaking up conspiracy theories and strange history2; for Lindsey’s writings and interpretations to be correct, they are predicated on two things: one, you have to believe the Bible is literal truth, and that not a single word in it was ever changed over millennia. Considering the original Christian schism (Rome v. Constantinople) was about the West adding words to the Bible…(the filioque controversy) so yeah, that shows Lindsey’s theories, conclusions, interpretations and writings begin with a logical fallacy, and thus, can they really be believed at this point? Please remember that some of his writings in the 1960s have since, all claims to the contrary, been proven false. There’s going to be an absolutely marvelous essay coming out of this revisiting, as part of my essay series on religion.

We also watched more episodes of Lazarus last night, leaving the finale for tonight. I am really enjoying the show, and it is all making so much more sense to me than it was initially; I don’t know how the supernatural aspects of the story are going to be explained, but it’s a fun show to watch, with plenty of marvelous twists and surprises. Not sure what is up for our next binge, but I want to watch Frankenstein before leaving for my trip. LSU plays Western Kentucky this weekend, which may not even be televised, and I am not really sure about other big games coming on this weekend. I am still kind of in shock that Alabama lost to Oklahoma again for the second year in a row, and if they don’t make the playoffs again, their coach is going to be in a very warm chair. There’s a lot of talk swirling about Lane Kiffen leaving Mississippi for either LSU or Florida, but I don’t see it, honestly. Both states have shitty governors and legislators who have no problem with sticking their fingers into the flagship university’s affairs, and he pretty much has free rein up in Oxford. (I stand corrected; LSU is playing Saturday night at the same time as Florida-Tennessee.) It’ll be interesting, I guess.

We also watched the ice dance and women’s finals for Skate America yesterday, which was pretty cool. I think we’re going to field a pretty good Olympic team in figure skating this cycle.

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

  1. Saw a really excellent one about the 1054 Christian schism, when Roman Catholicism divorced Eastern Orthodoxy. I also saw some interesting videos about the birth of Zionism and how the current Middle Eastern problems initially developed, and it always goes back to Rome, doesn’t it? ↩︎
  2. This isn’t the only “conspiracy theory” style book I read and saw the flaws in said theory immediately; I also thought Erich von Daniken’s work and Holy Grail Holy Blood (the basis for The Da Vinci Code, for the record) were full of holes, as were Graham Hancock’s….and I was just a teenager. ↩︎