Category: new car

I Don’t Know Why You Don’t Want Me

Thunder woke me up from a lovely deep sleep around five this morning, and we had a marvelous thunderstorm (and downpour) that last for about three hours…and yes, it was snug and comfy in the bed, especially after Sparky joined me in the bed for a cuddle-nap of his own. It now looks as though the storm has passed–and yes, I know Jazz Fest is this weekend, and yes, it sucks for the attendees and acts when it rains, but I still selfishly want more storms. I have to make groceries and get gas today, and would rather not do it in the rain…but it would be lovely if it kept storming this morning. According to the weather, we may have more later today and the drizzle we’re experiencing right now will last another couple of hours. I can also scratch “wash car” off the to-do list. Thanks, rain!

I slept well and feel good this morning. Paul is leaving on Tuesday for a week, and I am heading north next Friday for Alabama and then a few days in the panhandle visiting my recently widowed aunt. Sparky will be boarded (and get those razor blades trimmed), and he of course will be glued to me like velcro the entire time Paul is actually gone. Yesterday was a good day; I ran a couple of errands after work and came home to try to do some cleaning and picking up around here–as well as thinking about the work in progress, whose name may change…it occurred to me yesterday that there was a better title than the one I’m using–but I do love one-word titles and rarely get to use them.

We ordered pizza for dinner last night and finished watching Unchosen, which was, indeed, a wild ride. I am not certain they stuck the landing, but whoever came up with the idea to use the trope “a stranger comes to town” only having the “town” be a religious cult was a genius. It was very well done, though, and it was a fun ride. I do recommend it–Fra Fee is gorgeous to look at, and the acting is incredible–and since “cult”…you really don’t know what’s going to happen, and the surprising twists are all earned; there’s nothing there that wasn’t set up if you were paying attention. And as I said to Paul as we watched, “cults are really about the subjugation of women as lesser” and yup, that even holds true for the national cult we’ve been dealing with since the 1980s–the marriage of evangelicalism to the Republican Party. I’m sure there’s been some political history written about that horrible shift if the 1980 presidential election, and in retrospect, I’d say not electing Carter to a second term was one of the biggest mistakes this country has made. I don’t know whether or not Carter was a good president or not–but he was also trying to clean up the economic mess he inherited from his Republican predecessors and took all the blame for it; and you know, the Camp David accords did end decades of war between Egypt and Israel–and has lasted; the longest lasting peace in the Middle East since 1948. I’m not deregulating the airlines was the right decision–sometimes, regulation is necessary and needed; and what has happened to the airline industry since deregulation is certainly an interesting political and economic example someone should do an in-depth heavily researched history of how it impacted the nation’s economy, whether good or bad. It would be an interesting read.

When I finish this, I am going to repair to my easy chair and do some more reading. I want to read another chapter of Listen for the Whisperer and a short story I started reading this week so I could write about it, and I want to do some writing today, too. As I said earlier, I need to run to the grocery store and get some things, and I should get gas while I am out and about. I think I am also going to watch a documentary so I can write about it–I’ve been meaning to for a very long time, and I think I may have even watched the documentary once already; or maybe I just intended to and never got around to it. My sense of time is very skewed now; it’s very hard to believe the summer of the shutdown was six years ago; at this time six years ago I was already working in the garage, getting to eat donated meals from places grateful we were doing COVID testing (the meals from Waffle House were definitely my favorites; the hash browns were to die for) but it does seem like a million years ago now, doesn’t it? Likewise, things that have happened in the interim since? I have no idea when it happened. Then again, it freaks me out to know that I had those impacted teeth pulled sixteen years ago. Crazy, right? My concept of time, always not the best, has definitely been impacted.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and get another cup of coffee so I can get going on my day. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow. Till then, ta ta!

It Ain’t Easy Being Easy

Work at home Friday, and we made it through another work week in one piece (at least so far). The world is still here (for now), too, so if you’ve made it without losing your mind, killing someone, or just completely breaking down sobbing in a corner, congratulations! I did get tired yesterday afternoon, which wasn’t a surprise, but I was fine all morning and managed to get a lot done at the office, which was awesome. I was a bit tired to write words last night, so I decided to just chill, relax, do some chores when I felt like it, and think instead about what I am going to write today after my work-at-home duties. Naturally, that meant me doing little-to-nothing once I got home. Sparky was feeling lonely and needing some comfort love, which meant me providing my lap for his bed for almost the entire evening. I didn’t mind, of course; sleeping purr-kitty is very relaxing and calming. I caught up on the horrific news–these are the times that would have killed Molly Ivins, because trying to keep up on everything and writing humorously about it would have worn her down for sure.

So, apparently CNN conservative sleazebag Scott Jennings was outed as a closet case by Chef Joe Gera1. (See Matthew Rettenmund’s blog, along with some other queer news as well as some shots of actor Tom Blyth in the altogether; he’s a good resource and you should think about subscribing!) Scott Jennings is one of those white male mediocrities who has wound up as a fascism-enabler–this rat will definitely go down with the ship–and sits there with that asshole smirk while he smugly condescends to everyone else on the show. CNN was also responsible for giving us Tucker Carlson, thanks so much for that, by the way. It also raised the specter of outing again. I always go by the original ACT UP explanation for outing–if you are in a position to do harm to queer people, you do, and you’re closeted, well, fuck you and you definitely should be outed. (See: Aaron Schock) Are the allegations about Jennings accurate? Maybe, maybe not. But as far as I am concerned, we can put his unwashed fascist ass on a ice floe and set it adrift north of Canada.

Sparky only let me have about a half an hour of extra sleep this morning, so I am up way eariler than I’d intended; I never voluntarily get up at six thirty in the morning. I do feel rested and good. We watched another episode of Unchosen last night, which took another twist I didn’t see coming in last night’s episode. I kind of had wondered if this kind of twist was coming–mainly, because the show is doing such a great job with the characters that it seemed natural, but it still was a big surprise when they landed the twist. We are obsessed with this show, and of course, it has me thinking about cults again as well as Kansas, which is where I always think of when my mind turns to cults. I was thinking last night about several books I want to write that are set in Kansas–there are three I really hope I get to do while I am still writing. I also thought some more about the next Scotty, and I’m thinking I may move it up from Carnival to the Halloween before, as the story develops in my brain. I do love this creative phase I’m enjoying right now, and it’s not as frenetic and wild as they used to be; probably because the anxiety is under control so I am not getting dozens of new ideas weekly, which is also kind of a relief. I think having my mind ping around so rapid-fire the way it used to was also kind of exhausting and stressful. I like this whole new calm, centered thing medication is doing to my brain these days. And now it’s the weekend, with me feeling calm and rested and excellent. Huzzah!

I do have some work duties to do this morning that I will be diving into as soon as I finish writing this, and some other personal chores that have to be done this morning, too, which shouldn’t be an issue. I do think I am going to mostly stay home today. I have a couple of errands I can run later on (or tomorrow), and of course I’d like to get some cleaning done around here. I also need to wash and clean out the car since I am driving north a week from today (Paul leaves Tuesday to head north, too).

So I want to do some reading and writing this weekend, and get some newsletters finished as well. I feel good about everything in my life at the moment, and that’s always lovely. I am still doing a lot of processing and thinking about things that occurred in my life and making sense of them–and their lasting impact–on who I am. Maybe it was the anxiety, but I was always afraid somewhat to look back and relive/think about things again; mainly because I was certain I’d be embarrassed or ashamed. ANd maybe that’s true. Maybe I didn’t do this before because there was so much anxiety, and so much determination to always see the bad or negative about myself and now I can actually handle it? Regardless, I’m actually kind of enjoying this unpacking process while being kinder to, and forgiving, myself.

That’s healthy, right?

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in tomorrow with a progress report. Ta till then!

Anubis, Egyptian god of the afterlife and Lord of the Sacred Land
  1. We’ll see if there’s any truth or veracity to the claim, but it did make me laugh. He is so self-loathing, which is clearly apparent. I guess not thinking it was about sucking dick was probably a self-defense mechanism my brain used to protect from the horror of thinking him queer. ↩︎

Could I Have This Dance

Thursday last day in the office this week blog, and I am very pleased with myself for making it through the week without complete and utter exhaustion rolling around. I wasn’t tired yesterday after work, and I was able to do chores and some writing last night while Paul was at the gym. Check me out, will you? And I don’t feel either tired or groggy this morning. No aches or pains anywhere, either, which is ultimately delightful. We watched another episode of Unchosen last night–the hot guy is played by Fra Fee, who is simply gorgeous–and it is going in directions I didn’t see coming. It’s very cleverly written, well acted, and very well made.

I wrote about a thousand words or so last night after work, which was even nicer. Tuesday night I dribbled out about five or six hundred words, and struggled to get that. Last night I sat down, started writing, and after a slow start the words began to flow (“the words must flow!”) like they used to and the next thing I knew I was ending the first chapter and I was like, whoa, went into the zone for the first time in years and was enormously pleased, to say the least. I also put away the dishes, and did another load I’ll have to unload tonight. There’s also some laundry to finish, too. I’m enjoying writing again–which means I am feeling satisfied and really good for the first time in years. I was thinking about doing some errands on the way home tonight, but they can wait until after I finish my working at home duties tomorrow. Next Friday I am driving up to meet Dad in Alabama for Decoration Day (I’ve still not decided on a audiobook to listen to; I do like listening to horror for some reason while I’m driving; I’ve got some good ones downloaded, including some Shirley Jackson novels I’ve not read. I also have some more current ones by Riley Sager and Tananarive Due and Grady Hendrix; all of whose work I have enjoyed before.

This weekend I hope to get some writing and cleaning done around here. My writing streak will inevitably be broken when I go on the trip next week, so I need to get as much done as possible before then. I want to read some more of Listen for the Whisperer, get going on my next read, and I have a short story I want to read and write a newsletter about. I am also really enjoying thinking–and remembering–things from my past so I can either process the memory or be inspired to write about it. I’ve been lately trying to remember how I initially got interested in ancient Egypt–I think it may have been watching the Elizabeth Taylor Cleopatra on television as a child; I think she might have been my way into ancient history, along with with a juvenile mystery called The Mystery of the Pharaoh’s Treasure, which I have a copy of and should revisit. I also know one of my elementary school teachers traveled the world during her summer breaks, took tons of pictures, and showed us slide of historic sites she’d visited–and she’d been to Egypt several times, and the timing is right; it was fourth grade and I was eight or so, which was also around the time we got our set of encyclopedias, which opened up the entire world to me in that little apartment on the south side of Chicago. (My lifelong fascination with Egypt will be explored at some point in an essay series.)

And there are thunderstorms in the forecast for tomorrow, which sounds like a perfect day to stay home and get stuff done while the rain comes down and the thunder rolls. Huzzah!

It’s weird to feel so good on a Thursday morning. I am sure I’ll get tired this afternoon, probably after the caffeine wears off, but that’s also okay. I am going to come straight home from work, methinks, and run the errands over the weekend. I do need to take these boxes of books to the library sale Saturday morning and get them out of the living room; I do want to leave the house in good shape before I drive north next Friday.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you tomorrow morning. See ya!

Oscar winner Michael B. Jordan for Rolling Stone

Rhinestone Cowboy

Tuesday morning and all is well this morning in the Lost Apartment. I slept well and feel pretty good this morning–thus far, at any rate. Yesterday was Injection Day, and the distress I’d been experiencing for the last week gastronomically is now over, which is terrific; you always wonder if the medication will stop working at some point. I even wrote a little bit of fiction yesterday–not much, but every little bit gets me further from the starting place and closer to being finished. Every little bit definitely helps, you know?

We finished watching the FLDS documentary, Trust Me: The False Prophet, which was actually chilling. These documentaries inevitably focus on the crimes of the cult leader, but what I loved about this one was it actually focused more on the victims, and how the documentary filmmakers just really happened to be in the right place at the right time to earn his trust and his endorsement of filming everything. It was absolutely fascinating, and it was interesting to see that one of the victims realized what was going on was wrong (“the path to hell”) and became an informant for the FBI. How fucking brave was she, and then the other women, having to wake up from what was going on and wonder how they were so easily fooled–but the lesson here is how easy it is to convince true believers in false doctrine, which is a very singularly important lesson for these times, right?

Likewise, these social media posts from people choosing The Filth over their lifelong Catholicism just make me shake my head1. There are none so blind as those who will not see. The MAGA regrets we are seeing everywhere aren’t deep or meaningful–no, they just think The Filth lied to them and deceived them, not that the evil policies being enacted and enforced are wrong; they’ll vote red happily and proudly over and over again, even as it is clear to anyone not wearing blinders that the policies they voted for are what they hate–but it’s easier to blame someone else for our failings rather than take accountability, true repentance, and behavior change. No, they aren’t sorry about ICE’s abuses and the racism and the misogyny or any of their horrible positions; they’re mad because the price of gas is going up, and nothing else. “He lied to me” is much easier than “wow, what I believed and voted for are actually wrong and pretty fucking awful in practice” and it has the added bonus of absolving the person of any responsibility for their conduct.

Frankly, their vote is one thing. Being MAGA is entirely different. I also love that they are also trying to police how we receive their regrets…which makes me question their actual regrets as they try to again paint themselves as helpless victims who “didn’t know any better.” It would be one thing had they been polite about differing views from the get-go, but they were all pretty fucking awful. MAGA parents whose children have gone no-contact also love to paint themselves as victims, too–“but we’re family!” falls on deaf ears when you haven’t been acting like family. MAGA is usually the last straw, to be honest–and if it’s not, then you must have been pretty fucking awful to your kids about politics. Were you being racist, homophobic, misogynistic, or transphobic? IMAGINE how awful the things you said must have been…and then to come on-line to engage for sympathy? “How could my kids DO this?” Well, if that’s the question you’re asking, they are going to keep doing it for a very long time, and I hope not seeing your grandchildren was worth being MAGA.2

When someone goes no-contact with me, I figure I must have done something to trigger that response, or that person has simply decided I’m too “extra”–that’s happened a lot during my life; maybe not that word, but basically that’s what it was–and sure, it bothers me and makes me wonder a bit–but I also respect their wishes and don’t try to fix it.

I was actually thinking last night that I’m feeling much better than I have in a long time. The corrective shoes have eliminated leg fatigue and aching joints. I’m sleeping well and feeling rested. Getting up in the morning to the alarm, which I would still prefer not to do, hasn’t been an issue, and Sparky isn’t as pushy about me getting up in the mornings as he has been–now he’s more purring and cuddling and mewing softly rather than attacking my feet and smacking me in the face. I may relapse again back into aches and pains and fatigue–one never knows–but right now I feel pretty good, and we’re going to leave it at being happy and feeling good on a day-to-day basis. Baby steps, y’all!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Tuesday, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday (again???).

How come I never come across a gorgeous man in his underwear hanging out nonchalantly around columns?
  1. It also tells me how deep and real their faith was. You’re giving up your religion because the Pope criticized your mad God-Emperor? I’ll leave that to God, no need for me to comment. ↩︎
  2. As for me, I side-eye these folks. If people want to let bygones be bygones, so be it–but not me. I will go to my grave resenting and hating these people. I’ll never trust them. ↩︎

Smoky Mountain Rain

Yes, this is yet another song that inspired me to write a short story–“No Security Provided,” thus far an unfinished first draft, about a woman driving north on I-75 hurriedly but has to make a rest stop and finds herself in a bad situation–which I really should finish someday. It has the potential to be a very good story, you know? Or it could be a worthless piece of crap no one will want. Your mileage might vary. I’m sure it often does.

For the first time in three weeks I have a work-at-home Friday, and it feels nice to be getting back into my normal routine. Yesterday was fine; I made it through the day unscathed, not tired, and pretty cheerful for the most part. I got home in time to see the final rotation of the Gymnastics national semifinals, in which LSU clinched a spot in the finals with three incredible floor routines back to back to wrap up their night. That made me even cheerier, and watching the news didn’t upset me too terribly. (I think I’ve just snapped about the country, to be honest; I’m numb to it all, with one notable exception–more on that later) I have some quality assurance to get done this morning, and some chores I’d like to take care of. I’ll need to also figure out what to get from the grocery store and what to have delivered, and when. I do need to run uptown to the post office, and maybe can drop off a load of books to the library sale. I can do that tomorrow, and swing by–oh, you don’t need to know the rundown of my plans for the weekend. I’m not sure I do, to be honest, other than as a reminder. I’ve been watching Jeopardy! clips on Youtube, trying to sharpen my mind, as well as playing a computer game that requires focus and concentration. I don’t know if that will work or not, but it seems to be? Anyway, I am feeling content this morning. The good night’s sleep undoubtedly helped with me feeling good and rested this morning, and that is so awesome, you know? I didn’t even sleep in that late, either. Sparky was a cuddlebug again this morning, but not as patient as he was last weekend waiting for me to get up and feed him, so I was up shortly after seven without issue. I am on my second cup of coffee this morning, and I already had my morning coffee cake, but my stomach still feels a bit on the empty side, so I’ll be making some toast or something in a moment.

It occurred to me yesterday, as the news of the CNN story on the so-called on-line “rape academy,” that I will never run out of material for my newsletter series on masculinity, will I? Certainly not as long as mediocre straight men can’t get laid due to their looks or lack of personality….scratch a straight man, and the odds are in your favor when it comes to finding one who’s a rapist, or one who has thought about it. Intrusive thoughts are still your thoughts. And the way men will always circle the wagons without question or thought when a man is credibly accused of sexual assault has always been rather telling, I’ve always believed. Not all men, of course, one can never truly generalize any demographic group as there are always plenty of exceptions to the generalization, but…it’s always a man.

I remember as a kid, when reading about history or mythology, I’d encounter the word rape and not know what it meant; I assumed it meant abducting them and nothing more than that–the rape of the Sabine women comes to mind–and it wasn’t until much later that I realized what the gods and soldiers were actually doing, and how casually the concept was introduced to me, and by extension, to all kids in that time period as not a big deal that it’s no wonder than men are socialized to think their cavemannish belief they are entitled to a woman’s body whenever and wherever they want. (This is why I love Sarah Weinman’s work so much–Without Consent is probably one of the most important non-fiction works on women’s bodily autonomy in years–or at least since her last book. I really need to read it again so I can write about it. It’s just too important of a book for me to dash off some thoughts without being thoughtful, you know?)

It also looks to be another stunning April day outside, so maybe sitting outside with a book this afternoon might be a good call. Or a little walk down to the park and back, or over to Walgreens; I do need to get some Claritin. So, I think I’m going to bring this to a close and head over into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, y’all, and I’ll be back yet again in the morning.

Fins

I have to go into the office to work today, as there is no one to do walk-in testing–which also means I have to be there all day. I was highly annoyed at first, as anyone would be, and then decided being annoyed wasn’t going to make anything better, so accepted it and moved on. I also bartered Monday as my work-at-home day, so that will be very nice. Isn’t that a better outcome than being bitter and brooding? I am feeling better mentally lately, and staying in a mostly positive mind space. Obviously, the world is (gesticulates arms around) whatever the fuck this is, and it is very easy to get angry, or defeated, or overwhelmed–but that doesn’t help and that doesn’t make anything better and it certainly doesn’t make enduring these interesting times in which we find ourselves living in these days.

Imagine threatening the Pope–the bloody POPE–with kidnapping? You know what another name for the Avignon Papacy was? The Babylonian Captivity. BIBLICAL, wouldn’t you say? Catholics consider the Avignon Papacy such an affront to God they called that period the same name that is used for the Babylonian enslavement of Israel.

Interesting times indeed. Good luck with going after the Vatican. It’s also been interesting seeing Catholics shocked to realize evangelicals don’t actually consider them to be Christians–and don’t think they don’t have Catholics on the list for cleansing, too. Catholics have long been stigmatized in this country–how many Catholic presidents have we had? Just the one?–but once the evil right wing theocratic fascists figured out that abortion was a winning issue for them and a way to drag the Catholics in to use them for political power, that has kind of died down some…but it’s never gone away. Bigotries and prejudices don’t go away suddenly and without conscious choice…and I doubt that anyone put in the work in evangelical circles to truly kill off anti-Catholic bigotry.

Which is why it’s so weird that the majority of Supreme Court justices are Catholic.

I’ve always felt that the Religious Right had a day of reckoning coming, because one thing the vast majority of Christians can agree on is that every other Christian who doesn’t believe the same things and worships even the slightest bit differently is going straight to hell. That coalition was always doomed to fragment, and it’s a bit satisfying for me–who recognized the threat they posed to politics and culture and society back in the 1970s when they started to rise.

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day at work, and I wasn’t super tired when I got home. Paul got home shortly after I fed Sparky, and we settled in for the evening (it’s been an eternity since we’ve both been home in the evening). We caught up on the news, including a bizarre press conference, and then started watching Detective Hole. I had not read the books1, but the show looked interesting. The show is very good, if a bit on the bleak side–but that’s the Scandinavian noir/dark style, isn’t it? Visually, it’s stunning, and the plot is interesting. We will continue watching, but the first episode was a bit intense, so we then switched over to the first episode of the final season of The Boys, which recently dropped–they are not hiding the allegories anymore, you’d have to be a complete idiot to not see what they are doing–yet as always, there are people who don’t get they are on the wrong side in real life and gat very upset when the truth of what they’re enjoying hits them and they realize they like a WOKE SHOW. Oh, the horrors.

I want to write this weekend, and I am going to try. The essays are taking a bit out of me, especially when I write a long one like this most recent one. But hope springs eternal, doesn’t it? I feel really rested this morning, too. It’s nice not having to go in at the time I usually do; I was able to sleep a little later than usual this morning, which felt great. I think I will have the energy to be around people today and not want to commit any homicides–but I also haven’t driven to work yet, either; the drive can sometimes be a bit much with idiots on I-10. There’s no rush to get there; I technically don’t have to be there until ten, but I also have a meeting at ten so I need to be there by then for sure.

Oh, I was also included in this lovely write-up for Crime Reads for current and upcoming new works; you can read it here if you like.

All right, I am going to get another cup of coffee and get ready to head into the spice mines. May your Friday be as lovely as you are, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.

Rome, if you want to—Rome around the world…
  1. Not after I heard the main character’s name, because I still am a thirteen year old boy sometimes. ↩︎

Southern Cross

Pay the Bills Wednesday, and we are halfway through the week already. Insanity.1 But I had a decent day at work yesterday, came home and got some things done, and relaxed with Sparky a bit. I finished watching The Beauty (more on that later), had some things delivered, and cleaned up the kitchen a bit. I didn’t feel overly tired when I got home–there has been surprisingly little traffic this week; I forget that Easter Monday is a thing in New Orleans every year, but again yesterday? I hit almost all of the lights on my way home and it took me about ten minutes from the time I started my car at the office. (This is notable because it’s never that quick, easy, or simple.)

I also bit the bullet and hit publish on an overdue newsletter (you can read it here, if you like). I’ve been thinking about writing personal essays about masculinity, the way I saw it before and how I see it now, an my thoughts and opinions after sixty-four (almost sixty-five!) years of being a sexual suspect, (I was going to say outlaw in homage to John Rechy, but since my sexuality was against the law until 2003, decided not to) an outsider to the inner workings of the heterosexual male. I’ve only written from a straight male perspective a couple of times that I can recall, mostly ghost writing, but I am never entirely comfortable doing so because I can’t understand that “I’m the center of the universe” mentality so many of them seem to have–which isn’t limited to our culture and society, either. In our case here in the US, I think some of it has to do with the religious mania that has infused so much of our society, to its detriment; Christianity as it developed in western Europe is incredibly male-centered as well as designed to be an arm of the state, upholding the status quo and opposing any change or questioning of the state. I’ve always said that History is taught wrong, and this is part of that problem, too. Anyway, I am very pleased with this most recent newsletter, and hope you’ll check it out.

The Beauty was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever watched. As always with Ryan Murphy shows, it had a great premise but didn’t deliver on it, and egregiously this one didn’t have an ending. It just stopped, after the reveal of the deus ex machina, and so the last two episodes were also more filler than anything else, and then had to wrap up everything quickly in the last ten minutes or so. The concept of the show–a drug that makes people the most beautiful, hot and sexy versions of themselves (which was also a crock and didn’t always make sense). This could have been a deeply sharp satirical look at the American obsession with youth and beauty, but…it wasn’t. I know, I know, I have no one to blame but myself–but every once in a while, he does a good show…but I have been convinced for years now that when he does, it’s purely by accident.

Yesterday morning I must have hit the thermostat in the refrigerator, because everything in the freezer essentially thawed a bit. Paul noticed last night, I turned it back down and thought everything was probably okay–but this morning grabbing my breakfast sandwich I thought, no, better to throw everything away. The bag of frozen chicken breasts had frozen chicken juice in it this morning, so yeah–when I get home tonight I need to throw everything in there away. What a sad waste of money and food. AH, well, it’s payday and I needed to stop at the grocery store anyway, so I’ll be replacing some things on the way home tonight. Ah, well. I think I might need to do a short Costco run this weekend as a result. We’ll see. I just hate that I have to throw away that frozen shrimp. Ah, well. Naught to do but bite the bullet.

I was a bit tired this morning but the coffee is now kicking in and I am feeling better. We’re not terribly booked up today, so I can get caught up on Administrative duties. The freezer situation means I’ll have to DoorDash lunch again, but there are definitely worse things.

And on that grim note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I’ll check back in with you again later.

PS. I am purposely not mentioning what went on yesterday in the world because Jesus FUCKING Christ. This whole thing isn’t going to end well at all.

One of the many beautiful homes in my neighborhood–and that black vehicle is BLOCKING THE DRIVEWAY!
  1. The good news is President Stillson, like all bullies, backed down. However, the 25th needs to be invoked. ↩︎

Every Which Way But Loose

Happy Easter to all who celebrate, and a happy Sunday to those who do not. We do not celebrate Easter, but we do recognize the Easter Bunny and candy because who doesn’t? My favorite parts of “Christian holidays” are inevitably always the parts appropriated from pagan holidays. Funny how that works, isn’t it? It’s also raining, and I slept in later than I’d hoped to. Sparky eventually got impatient waiting for me to get up and scratched my face near my left eye, and while I easily and happily could have slept longer, I am glad I got up. I feel rested, which is very nice, and relaxed. I didn’t really do a whole lot yesterday; I ran my errands and got home in the early afternoon and basically chilled for the rest of the day while Paul was at his office and the gym. He got home in time to watch LSU Gymnastics to win the regional final. They didn’t have a great meet, but still almost broke 198.00–which is incredible. After that we started watching Something Very Bad Is Going to Happen, but the first episode was just weird and odd and un-involving, so we moved on to season three of The Night Agent, which is a very fun action packed high energy international intrigue thriller. Gabriel Basso, who plays the lead, is very sexy, too.

While Paul was out, I watched a couple more episodes of season 4 of The Traitors. I am really going to enjoy writing about the show, but I definitely have to outline the essay so I don’t forget to talk about something I find interesting. Yesterday’s watch reminded me of how The Traitors somehow pulls off something I wouldn’t have thought possible–redeeming people I have disliked in other media. I was resistant to watching this particular season (which was still airing when we started watching) because I hated both Lisa Rinna and Candiace Dillard from their time on Real Housewives; but I really enjoyed them of The Traitors. Same with Colton Underwood; I didn’t love how he came out after his time on The Bachelor and it seemed like the powers-that-be thought they could make him–a very pretty blue-eyed blond white man–into THE Gay Celebrity, especially given his problematic past. I actually wound up liking him on this show, and maybe I should go back to his reality series about coming out and “learning to be gay”; I’ve been wanting to watch through some gay-base reality shows I’ve watched and how terrible they inevitably are (Drag Race being the sole exception). I’m also, while rewatching, remembering how Alabama Rob charmed us all–and seeing the seeds of Rob and Maura’s bond (it literally goes back to episode one) being planted makes her loyalty to him at the end make more sense; she really wasn’t his “dicktim.” (That’s another interesting thing about rewatching; you pick up on things you didn’t notice the first time through.)

After getting the mail, I swung by the Fresh Market on my way home, which I usually don’t mind as far as grocery stores are concerned. It’s slightly more expensive, but it’s never crowded and the customers aren’t nearly as annoying as the ones at Whole Foods (I get highly annoyed every time I shop there, which I why I don’t). But it seemed like all the entitled rich old white people somehow got an alert that they needed to go to the Fresh Market and show their whole asses. I was quite relieved when I put my bags in the car and skedaddled away from that portal to hell. I never do a big shop when I go there–the slightly more expensive thing–but I love their meat counter (lots of fresh meat options there) and they also sell Jelly Belly jelly beans there by weight. I love me some Jelly Belly jelly beans, but I stopped eating them when I got sick last year and haven’t bought any since. I snacked a bit on them last night and yes, I still love them. I just cannot overdo it with them because the goal here is to lose weight.

I also mailed some books yesterday. I still have two more copies to send out, and one to drop off Uptown, but I also did very little around the house yesterday because I was being a bit on the lazy side and relaxing. I’m going to try to do some cleaning today–at least get everything picked up and put away–and I am also going to try to do some reading this morning. I also want to try to get a newsletter out today, and I know which one I am going to try to get taken care of; I want to talk about Christa Faust’s Derringer Award nominated short story “Hollywood Prometheus” from Crime Ink: Icons. (I did find a way into my essays series about masculinity yesterday, too, but I want to think about that introductory prologue essay and let it marinate in my brain for a few days.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines and clean up this mess of a kitchen and work space. I also have to balance my checkbook–always a joy–and do some other thankless tasks so I am not behind on anything anymore. Heavy heaving sigh. It’s also supposed to get cold later today, too. Woo-hoo!

Sexy fitness model and BGEast wrestler Rio Garza

Belle Fleur

How is it pay the bills Wednesday again? Yesterday was a decent day, and I was worn out and fell asleep in my easy chair around nine while Paul packed. He’s moving into the Monteleone today for the Festivals, so I have been left alone to deal with a lonely kitty with abandonment issues. I ran my errands after work–my next dose of medication for my next injection arrived–and did another load of dishes and picked up a bit. I also watched a few episodes of The Traitors New Zealand–but it’s too early in the season to really decide anything about it yet. I was impressed they voted a traitor off at their first banishment, but I suspect it will be a while before they get their next one.

I wrote my newsletter essay about Mississippi Blue 42, which you can read here. I really enjoyed the book, and it made me think a lot, not just about college football, but writing about sports authentically. There are just so many hokey tropes and clichés in sports that are easy to fall into–the plucky kid who never plays but wins the big game; the poor kid using sports as a way out of poverty and to get an education; the big game that comes down to the final play; the big comeback; and on and on and on. But that’s the thing about sports, though–you can see a trope play out in a game on your television every weekend. Eli Cranor addresses some of these in the book, but handles it in a way that makes it not feel tired or overused, but rather inspired and fresh and new. That’s a skill, y’all–Eli Cranor is a real one. Add him to your reading list–and if you’re not a football fan, the writing alone is good enough to appeal to everyone.

Since Paul won’t be home tonight, when I get home from work I have to get used to Paul not being here. His work schedule is incredibly intense and erratic in the months leading up to the festivals, so spending the evenings alone with Sparky isn’t new; what’s new is I’ll wake up in the mornings and he won’t be here. Tonight will depend on how I feel after work, I think. Tomorrow night will be my usua; Thursday night exhausted not do anything night, and then of course I have to do the whole prepare for panels and a reading thing over the weekend, taking Lyfts to and from the Quarter. I took Monday off as a recovery day, and then it’s back to work with a vengeance. It never ends, does it? Ah, well. Today I am going to look through my to-do list notebook (I’m trying this “running list” thing I’ve lifted from Donna Andrews’ marvelous series) and figure out what I need to get done first, and what is plausible and/or possible. I need to start writing fiction again, but the last few attempts were so futile that I’ve not really wanted to try again. It’s silly; nothing’s changed, and this is simply a mental block that I’ve created, but I keep thinking, with the country and world burning to the ground does any of this matter? Which is dumb; in my newsletter essay about being a DEI author I know that, small as it may be, my authorial voice is an act of protest every time I write about queer people. I had started writing a story for that American Gestapo anthology, and it was an excellent idea–but it really took me into a dark headspace I didn’t want to be in, so I put it aside.

I also filled my tank–a Honda CR-V, for the record–and it cost over forty dollars. I don’t think I’ve ever filled my car for that much since I bought it in 2017. Nice job, MAGA. But hey, so what if you self-owned as long as you owned the libs, right? No sympathy for any of you, really–especially you three-time MAGA voters. I am amused that the media blamed “economic anxiety” for the 2016 and 2024 elections…how did those votes work out for you? Looks like the Midwest is about to get destroyed again with the cost of fertilizer, and you have no workers this year, either, so what was the point of the farmer welfare money?

And make no mistake about it, Midwest red voting farmers–you’re on the fucking dole; why don’t you pull yourself up by your bootstraps? Why should my tax money bail your racist asses out?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely pay=the-bills Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow after my first night alone.

The pier at Panama City Beach, Florida

Love Is

…definitely not getting up at six on a Monday morning, methinks. I slept pretty well, but didn’t want to get up (I never do, so nothing new there), and am a little discombobulated; yesterday kept seeming like Saturday, and it wasn’t. My primary accomplishments of the day were getting things delivered so I didn’t have to leave the house, I finished reading Mississippi Blue 42, and finished watching season 2 of The Traitors Australia, which means I am almost finished with everything up for streaming on the Peacock app and will soon be looking for something else to watch. But the Festivals are this weekend, and Paul will be back to his what-passes-for-normal in his life next week, and we are very behind on a lot of streaming shows (new seasons and new ones to watch), so picking out something to watch shouldn’t be difficult. I also managed to keep avoiding the news for the most part since leaving Thursday, and I kept it going through the weekend. I really don’t want to check back in, do I? I have noticed the increase in the cost of gas–up to over $4 a gallon here in New Orleans. Remind when precisely gas was over four dollars a gallon during the last year of the Biden administration?

Sigh.

The last time I bought gas before the funeral trip, it was $2.59 a gallon and I was irritated with myself for not filling up the day before. So. Much. Winning.

I feel a bit weird this morning–not unwell, but not well, either. I suspect it has to do with the weather being different down here than it was over in Alabama, and my sinuses are having to get used to our heavier air again here. I slept well last night, too. It was a nice, relaxing day overall, in which I did some spot cleaning and some picking up around here, and of course I had things delivered. I have to swing by the post office for the mail on the way home, and I will swing past the grocery store on my way back to the house. I need to make a list–I don’t think I need too much, actually–and I do have a few things to do when I get home tonight. I need to also check my to-do list, and add some things to it. It’s becoming more and more clear to me that I can’t trust my short-term memory anymore. I think I’m going to start watching an episode of Jeopardy every night, because it makes me think and sharpens my brain.

I’ve not even checked my email since last Thursday–there’s a lot of it, so am afraid to look, but I am sure most of it is easily delete-able sales attempts. Or loan offers at loan shark interest rates. I don’t think I’m expecting anything crucial. Wish me luck when I open the inbox later.

I was very pleased that I finished reading Mississippi Blue 42. The only reason it took so long was because of brain fatigue; too tired when I get home from work to read for a while and same with the weekends. I really enjoyed it, and listening to the first half or more certainly made it easier for me to get back into reading the physical copy, which was marvelous. Eli Cranor is a marvelous writer, and the book inspired a lot of creative thoughts for me…it was also interesting because my uncle, whose funeral I attended, played college and pro ball and was a high school football coach (a successful one) until he retired. We really are such a college football family, it’s wild. I get my love of it from my family; and it’s always been so much a part of my life that I can’t imagine what it’s like not to follow college football. I turned Paul into a fanatic, too. (He was already a big sports fan, so getting him into college football wasn’t terribly hard.)

Season 2 of The Traitors Australia was absolutely amazing, with an enormous twist at the end that I saw coming, but wasn’t sure would deliver. But it DID! Now, all I have is one season of New Zealand before I am done, but I may go back and rewatch the most recent season of the US so I can evaluate and write a newsletter about.

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

The great statues of Ramesses II at Abu Simbel.