Category: new car

You Never Even Called Me By My Name

A gray and wet Friday morning here in New Orleans, and it looks to be rainy and wet all day and through tomorrow as well. I have a meeting this morning before I have to see my doctor (maintenance, no complains), after which I have to take Paul to an appointment in Metairie, and we’re stopping at Le Costco on the way home. I slept great last night–rain and cold and a pile of blankets always works– and feel really good and rested this morning. Sparky was a sweet little cuddle-bug this morning, too. It’s nice and warm in the apartment this morning, and my coffee is delightful. I wonder how tired I will be after Costco? I’ll report back on that tomorrow morning. It’s going to cost us a fortune today, too, because we’ve not been in almost a month. But I am very delighted and happy to spend our money at Costco–especially since MAGA is boycotting them yet again, which is, as always,

I lied yesterday morning, unintentionally. I felt both sleepy and tired when I was writing my entry, and my hips did ache a bit as I walked around and climbed the stairs, etc. However, once I’d showered, had a second cup of coffee, and something to eat…that all went away. I wasn’t tired at work–had no trouble staying current on everything–and I was able to come straight home from the office, where I finished the dishes and did still another load of laundry. Go figure, right? The answer is to take a shower when I am dragging when I get up–a lesson I need to learn on the days I am at home, for sure. I also ordered groceries last night, which were delivered. I am looking forward to making chili tomorrow! I did some more collecting of notes for Chlorine–I’ve never had all my notes on it all together in one place, and I think this is absolutely one hundred percent necessary to getting this draft done. It’s kind of fun, honestly, to go back through my journals and see all the notes for books and stories I was writing at the time and other ideas and notes and even essays I’ve started writing in them. I’ll spend some more time with the journals tonight, and probably will get the notes all scanned in the morning tomorrow. I am really excited to dive into writing a book with my full focus and my brain and body functioning properly; it’s been a very hot minute.

I started watching another episode of The American Revolution, but Paul came home shortly after I’d started it, and we watched some of the Grand Prix final for figure skating. I want to finish that at some point this weekend, and I am taking The Postman Always Rings Twice with me to the appointments to read. It’s only 102 pages, so I should be able to get finished with it this evening. I still haven’t totally decided on what my other reads for Noirmas Season will be, but I definitely need to read one of Eli Cranor’s latest; I am behind on him. I know I am going to tackle that Dorothy B. Hughes novel, The Fallen Sparrow, and there’s some other classics on my iPad I may tackle, too. It also dawned on me last night that by making this month about noir, I’ve not been using hunks in Christmas attire for the blog, so I’ll need to rectify that going forward. Just because I am reading noir for Christmas doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Christmas!

I also maliciously smiled this morning about the cold rainy weather–welcome to New Orleans, ICE shitheads! It also is amusing to me that the charges against Luigi Mangione might actually be dismissed because of improper police conduct in their rush to show oligarchs they are more valuable and important than other American citizens. Good.

Sigh. The times in which we live.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I have dishes to put away and laundry to finish before my meeting. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Baby Girl

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around again somehow, and somehow it’s already December. How did that happen? Going away for nearly a week has messed with my head a little bit, hasn’t it? But this morning I feel good and rested–odd for the midweek, don’t you agree?–but I also slept well. I had to turn the heat on last night when I got home from work with the groceries, and it’s snug and cozy in here this morning. (I am starting to like the cold weather, which is wild, isn’t it? I always exaggerated how much I didn’t like cold weather, but it seriously doesn’t bother me anymore.) We were busy in the clinic yesterday, and I think I will be again this morning, too. I was a bit tired when I got off work and headed to the store to make groceries. I didn’t get as much done when I got home as I’d hoped–the apartment was very cold, and I huddled under a blanket in my chair with Sparky while catching up on the news–my, what a shit-show we as a nation have turned into–before actually taking a short nap in my easy chair before getting up to do some things before going to bed. It’s forty-one outside this morning (!!!) but I am not minding that at all. Go figure. My theory is that the snow earlier this year snapped me out of a lifelong hatred of cold weather. Stranger things have happened, after all.

The professional bull-shitters, aka ESPN’s line-up of talking heads and morons who blather on endlessly without providing any real information but like you to believe their opinions are based in something, have continued to drag Lane Kiffin for going to LSU. I hate to break it to y’all, but all you’re doing is endearing him even more to Louisiana and Tiger Nation. I watched his initial press conference on Youtube last night (I couldn’t watch it live as I was at work Monday) and I have to say, he kind of won me over. Will he bail on LSU the same way he did to Tennessee and Mississippi? Possibly, sure. But welcome to college football in the twenty-first century, and it’s not like the players can’t leave the way they used to not be able to when their coach went somewhere else. And really, the timelines on how things are set up aren’t conducive to not screwing schools and teams over in this manner. I get the bitterness and disappointment for Mississippi and their fans; I’d be pissed if that happened at LSU, and they–and the Tennessee fans still mad about him leaving in the dead of night for USC all those years ago–have every right to be bitter and angry. But getting the dragging he is getting nationally only makes LSU fans feel more dug in; they do not mind being considered the villain in the least, and neither does the new coach. Hell, they live for having a chip on their shoulder.

It’s kind of reminiscent of the Steve Spurrier days at Florida, frankly–which should be very scary for everyone else.

I did look at LSU’s schedule for next year, and they have to play Alabama, Auburn, Texas, Texas A&M, and they get to play at Mississippi and Tennessee–Coach Kiffin’s greatest hits. It shows we play at Mississippi again next year, which seems wrong; we played in Oxford this past season so should have to go there two years in a row, but okay. We also play Mississippi State, Arkansas, and Kentucky. It’s going to be weird not playing Florida every year.

I also started gathering all my notes on Chlorine last night, to organize and get started on it (again), which will entail revising the first three chapters all over again. It’s fine; it originally started with the cops coming to his front door, before I switched it over to a studio fixer. I may leave the studio fixer intact, but it will need to be somewhat changed because the plot demands it. I also have my page proofs for Hurricane Season Hustle, another editing job, and I went over the edits for a short story that an anthology is taking, which is very cool.

As for the Pete Hegseth murder/war crimes story, is anyone surprised at the lengths this administration will attempt to distract from the Epstein files? I’m not, and frankly, Hegseth belongs in front of a firing squad.

I’m also having some thoughts about the next Scotty, too, which is kind of fun.

And on that, off to the spice mines with me! Have a lovely day, Constant Reader!

All You Ever Do Is Put Me Down

Tuesday morning and I didn’t spring out of bed joyously this morning, but I feel pretty okay this morning. I slept well, just wanted to sleep longer. It rained heavily last night, which was nice–you know I love me some rain when I am safely inside and warm and comfortable. The rain was supposed to bring cold weather with it, but it’s only 51 this morning, which isn’t that terrible. My whole attitude towards cold weather is changing, isn’t it? I didn’t mind the cold in Kentucky–it was bitterly cold on Thanksgiving; my windshield froze over while I was at my sister’s–so what on earth is happening to me? #madness, indeed. Granted, it wasn’t at zero or even close to it; that, methinks, would be an entirely different story.

I did find my copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice last night, and that opening line–“They threw me off the hay truck about noon”–is such a great opening. I think the other noirs I am going to read this month will include The Falling Sparrow by Dorothy B. Hughes1, another Jim Thompson novel (I have several on-hand), a Silvia Moreno-Garcia modern neo-noir, and maybe some short stories, and/or a Cornell Woolrich novel. The well (or TBR pile, you choose) is very deep in the Lost Apartment. I also have to write my reviews of O Jerusalem and Fever Beach for the newsletter, too. Sigh. So much to write, so little time in which to do it all, y’know? But that just means I need to go back to my OCD organization and to-do lists so I can get things done.

I also managed to go over the edits and copy edits of Hurricane Season Hustle, so it is finished for me other than the page proofs. I also got a short story I sent to an anthology a few months ago back with its edits, which is also kind of cool. I always love to sell a short story, you know? I am more confident with my novels than I ever can be with my short stories, and I was thinking last night as I sat in my chair watching The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City that I may try something different when it comes to writing short stories, but I’ll inevitably always fall back on my usual way of doing things. I think we’re going to be busy in the clinic this morning, which will keep me hopping all day. I have to stop again at the store to make some groceries on my way home tonight, and the kitchen is a mess, and I have another load of dishes to unload so I can wash the ones in the sink and run the dishwasher again and the household chores never end, do they? I have measured my life by washing dishes, or something like that.

I was able to leave work early yesterday (Friday was a paid holiday for eight hours; I usually put in about four on a normal work-at-home Friday, so had to shave some time off yesterday. No, I never over-explain, do I?), and so ran by the Fresh Market on the way home and also ordered groceries for delivery. I got home and finished the laundry, put the dishes away and ran another load through the dishwasher. I got caught up on the news and have reached the point where I just shake my head in bewilderment, sadness, and disgust. Heavy heaving sigh. Is there now a light at the the end of the tunnel of horrors? One can only hope, but this dismantling of our institutions and eroding of trust in them has been –and continues to be–nothing more than a disgrace.

Our new LSU football coach, Lane Kiffin, arrived in Baton Rouge yesterday to a cheering crowd at the airport and people lined up along the drive from there to the campus. Controversy about the move continues to swirl, driven by the so-called “talking heads” who know absolutely nothing but somehow think they’re relevant? Dad and I talked about how useless and stupid so many of them are nowadays–“professional bull-shitters,” is what Dad calls them, and accurately–but they have to talk and weave and bullshit in order to earn their ridiculous salaries. I don’t care what you think about this, just as I don’t really care about anything you think, really. And all the unctuous moralizing by trash like Stephen A. Smith and Colin Cowshit and all the rest of the idiots? Spare me. All you are doing is enhancing the victim complex LSU fans and Louisiana residents already have, and they’ll just circle the wagons and it just endears Kiffin to the fans and residents here all the more. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s buddies with Coach O, either. They are billboards and signs all over the state welcoming him.

I do not remember any of that happening for Brian Kelly, mind you.

So, we’ll see how this new era of LSU football will work out for us. Everyone here is excited, as I said, and I am optimistically hopeful but cautious.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for this fine Tuesday morning. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday tomorrow morning.

Pharaoh Thutmose III, successor to the female pharaoh Hatshepsut
  1. Also a book with a fantastic first line. ↩︎

I’m Moving On

And I am back home.

I got here last night sometime between seven-thirty and eight; I don’t remember exactly what time I left Kentucky. I was also adventurous and broke tradition by coming home a different way than I have every time I’ve driven back since my parents moved up there. This actually is a big deal; I used to have a lot of anxiety when I drove–I don’t know why the thought of missing a turn or getting lost has always wound me tighter than a drum, but I guess it was the anxiety. But I was relaxed all the way up there, and I was relaxed all the way back, which was nice. I wasn’t even tired when I got there Tuesday night, either; I think the anxiety used to wear me out. I was tired when I got home last night, though; so I guess I did have a bit of it because I didn’t know where I was going. This time, I took the Cumberland Parkway across Kentucky to I-65 and came down through Nashville rather than Chattanooga. It was a very nice drive, and I don’t think I’ll have anxiety the next time I come that way.

It was also nice to unplug from the world. I only checked email to delete junk, and I think I answered one email–from my editor–on Tuesday while I was on the road. I have no idea what it going on in the country and the world, and I’m not really sure I want to get caught up, either. I do have some things I need to do today–our grocery situation is kind of dire–and some laundry and chores, and I don’t think I am going to attempt to do any kind of writing today–maybe in my journal. I listened to Laurie R. King’s superb O Jerusalem on the way up, and to Carl Hiaasen’s Fever Beach on the way back; which I have about an hour left to finish–it’s excellent and hilarious and thought-provoking, and there will definitely be more about both audiobooks in the newsletter, and relatively soon (I hope) at that. I didn’t listen to my Donna Andrews Christmas audiobook because I didn’t finish the Meg Langslow book I’d started last weekend. I will finish reading A Flock and a Hard Place this week, but am not sure when I’ll be able to get to the audiobook. I think I had decided to make December “Noirmas Season,” so I am going to try to get some noir read or revisited this next month, probably starting with The Postman Always Rings Twice, because it’s been a hot minute and what better way to kick off Noirmas Season than with the master? I also have some television to catch up on, too.

But the apartment is in pretty good shape, so I shouldn’t have too much trouble getting back on track this morning, huzzah! I have email inboxes to clean out (my email tab shows over 110 this morning; it’s not freaking me out the way it would have before, but still). I did watch the end of Alabama-Auburn last night when I got home, which was a much better game than I was expecting. I was driving and missed LSU-Oklahoma, which turned out to be a better game than I was expecting in the first place. Most of the teams I was rooting for over the “rivalry weekend” lost, which was disappointing, but they were mostly good games. I am really not interested in the post-season, but will watch LSU’s bowl game if they go to one, thus freeing up my Saturdays going forward. I am a bit better about not being glued to my easy chair every Saturday, too. The anxiety medication has apparently also removed my fear of missing out, which is really nice.

I’m really glad I went, to be honest. It was nice seeing all of my extended immediate family again–I have some really good-looking and smart grand-nieces and nephews (sigh)–and I enjoy spending time with Dad. I am learning a lot about the family history from him, and it’s nice hearing about what things were like for him and Mom when they first started dating and their early married life. And not being fatigued and worn out by driving twelve hours twice within a five day period the way I would have been before is also good to know. I’ve been feeling a lot better these last few weeks, in all honesty, and I think not being tired after work until Thursday night is a VAST improvement. I was getting kind of worried that the fatigue and lack of energy was my new normal, which was concerning but there was no point in even worrying about it because it was beyond my control. I do think I am going to start working on my physical condition a bit more going ahead, like going back to the gym and getting into better shape. What’s with the crazy talk, amirite?

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Hope you had a marvelous holiday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later today (stranger things have happened, you know) with another entry or a newsletter or maybe…nothing at all until tomorrow morning.

The Roman Emperor Hadrian’s lover, Antinoüs, depicted as the Egyptian god Osiris

Polk Salad Annie

That may be the name of the song, but I always thought it was “poke salad,” because you used pokeweed to make it. But I’ve also always had hearing issues, and have misheard (and mis-said) things almost my entire life before learning how wrong they were! The funny thing is, before the hearing aids, I was kind of ashamed of being unable to hear so I would never ask someone to repeat themselves; now that I have them, I have no problem with that? Strange, isn’t it?

I have to pack tonight when I get home because I want to get an early start tomorrow morning. I don’t like driving after dark, and with the time change it’ll start getting dark between four and five, and I lose a time zone hour once I cross the Georgia state line for a brief moment before catching I-75 in Chattanooga. I hope to sleep well again tonight, since the drive will most likely be exhausting. This is my first lengthy drive since being sick, and so I guess it will be indicative of how my recovery is going, won’t it? Plus, leaving early might help with traffic along the way. I can even load the car for the most part this evening as well, which is cool. I don’t know how much I will be here while I am up north this week, so bear with me; you may not see me again until this coming Sunday morning. I will miss the games on Sunday, but I can always check scores on my phone and I may get home in time to catch the tail end of Auburn-Alabama. LSU is at Oklahoma, so who knows how that will go and which team will show up in Norman. I don’t have a lot of confidence or hope in a team that just beat Western Kentucky by only three points at HOME. (It was actually kind of sad, especially for Senior Night. What a disaster this season turned out to be for my Tigers. Sigh. But I said they were overrated at the beginning of the season and guess what? I was right.)

I spent some time yesterday going through my journals to mark pages with Chlorine notes, and there were a lot. I only got through about five of them, but there was a lot of interesting notes and information and ideas for the story, and for the main character’s back story. I know, I know, I’ve been threatening to write this book for almost a decade, but one of the things I came to realize yesterday looking at the journals is how erratic my creative mind is and how all-over-the-map it can be. My journals serve many purposes; I like to write long-handed, for one thing, and somehow the mind-hand connection frees my mind to wander and create free-style, and it always works. It’s also kind of interesting to see how past novels and stories have developed. Sometimes I’ll write a story or a chapter fragment in long hand; the long hand freestyle thing has always worked for whenever I am stuck on something. I also learned a lot going through the journals looking for Chlorine notes; both story and character and situations. I also realized yesterday that the reason I’ve never really worked on it seriously was because I was very tied to that opening scene, and the original story I developed; but now I have realized that there was an enormous hole in the plot that cannot really be fixed without revising and rewriting the entire first three chapters, which I’ve been trying to fix and polish for years when it couldn’t be fixed; spending some time immersing myself in the book, by writing in my journal, has opened the entire thing up for me and I think I should be more than ready to get a first draft done by the end of the year. I’m actually excited, rather than intimidated, about writing it! I think feeling better physically, emotionally, and mentally has helped a lot, too. I spent a lot of time these past few years thinking that I might retire from writing…nah, I just wasn’t 100%!

I am also very excited to start listening to Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem tomorrow in the car! It’s longer than the drive, so I am going to take the book with me to finish reading, along with my Donna Andrews novel to read while I am up there so I can listen to either her Christmas audiobook from last year, or A Letter of Mary by Laurie on the way home on Saturday. I am hoping to rest and relax and read and spend some nice time with Dad and my sister. It’ll be cold, of course, but I am not dreading it the way I usually do. I think I’ve finally made peace with colder weather? I blame this past January’s blizzard, really. It reminded me how nice it is to be safe and warm inside while the snow is coming down outside. Very, very cozy, and maybe the weather is kind of worth it for that kind of comfort? The older I get, the more I appreciate comfort. (Note to self: get new sheets.)

We watched some more of the final season of Solar Opposites, which I’m not enjoying as much as I did the earlier seasons…but I also watched them all in a binge, so was a lot more vested and it’s hard to get back into it after so long. It’s still insanely clever, though. We also watched Family Plan 2 so you don’t have to (the first one was cute and clever; the second went back to the well and it doesn’t play as well the second time around) and I have to ask again, how is Marky Mark a movie star? (I prefer to use his name from when he was a trouser-dropping “recording artist.”) He has no range at all, and all the promise he showed as a young actor in movies like Boogie Nights has been lost into a charmless “character” he plays over and over and over again, in action flick after action flick. Basically, he just shows up and cashes the paycheck. I do like Michelle Monaghan, though. It played while I was going through my journals; Paul kept falling asleep. Then we watched Devil in Disguise, and seriously? This is how serial killer mini-series or limited series or whatever they fuck they call them now should be done. Not glamorous, not visually beautiful, and the sexiness of the cast isn’t highlighted, but rather buried under period hair and clothing. The really get that 1970s accurately; it was almost triggering. I also liked that they aren’t glamourizing Gacy and are focusing, not just on him, but on selected victims and telling their stories along with his. (We had to stop watching the latest Ryan Murphy Monster season.)

I feel good this morning. I didn’t want to get up, but that wasn’t from wanting to sleep more, it was the warm comfort of the bed I didn’t want to leave. I am not tired or sore, and my hip joints feel pretty good, too. I am not in the clinic today, but I have an awful lot of things to get caught up on before I head home this afternoon, and a lot to do when I do get there, too. I’ll just have to avoid Sparky’s wiles and the lure of the easy chair–or remind myself to get up after resting and get it all done so I can leave tomorrow morning and not be concerned about coming home to a disaster area Saturday.

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

Don’t Think I Don’t Think About It

How is it Wednesday Pay the Bills Day again already? Sheesh!

But yes, I know being able to pay them is a very good thing, but I still resent the money spent.

Yesterday was an odd day, really. I worked by myself in the clinic, and of course–since I had help Monday, over half were no-shows, but everyone came the day I was by myself! Naturally, isn’t that how it always goes? I don’t think we’re nearly as busy today, but I was highly productive at work yesterday, which was awesome. I felt good all day, actually, and when I got home I actually did shit. I did the dishes and several loads of laundry, I made dinner (so the sink is full again), and I even wrote for a little (very little) while, but more on that later. After we ate dinner, we started watching Malice on Prime, which is rather chilling; the “manny from hell” is the plot, and its also very well cast. Jack Whitehall is appropriately creepy as the manny (actually a tutor), with David Duchovny and Clarice van Houten as the wealthy couple he has targeted…although we don’t know why or what he is up to so far. Tonight after work I have to run an errand; I need to make a side dish for our office potluck tomorrow so I need to get the ingredients. I really don’t want to make what I promised to make (my spicy mac ‘n’ cheese), but there is naught to do but do so, methinks. If I make it when I first get home, then I can write or relax or do whatever the hell I want to after. I also slept deeply and well last night, so I feel very awake and rested today.

I was a bit surprised to see the numbers on the votes to release the Epstein files yesterday–and let’s face it, the landslide it turned out to be made me suspicious. After all the shenanigans and lies of this past year, now they are listening to the anger of their constituents? Then again, he honestly believes he could shoot someone and not lose any support, so there’s also that aspect of it; and to his credit, how much spinning have we seen in the last week or so from the right, parsing what technically is or isn’t pedophilia? This should be the complete and final death knell for those Moms for Liberty skanks…hard to push that drag queens, trans women, and other queers are the groomers and pedophiles when you vote for and support actual pedophiles. But it has never been about protecting children, has it? No, that was simply their cover to go after a minority population they don’t like.

And using it as a wedge issue. How’d that work out for you, bitches?

And of course, the only elected official in Congress to vote against releasing the Epstein files was Louisiana’s own garbage human, Clay Higgins. Higgins is– even for a state that produced garbage politicians like our current governor, Steve Scalise, John Kennedy, Bill Cassidy, and Liz Murrill, amongst the other trash we seem to elect all the time–pretty remarkably horrible. He had to resign in disgrace from the St. Landry Parish sheriff’s office for being, well, horrible; is constantly posting racist garbage on-line; is also ethically challenged; and was sued by his ex-wife for back child support in the amount of $14,000.

And he’ll probably be reelected next year despite providing cover for the biggest and most notorious pedophile ring in history. I mean, even Steve Scalise voted for their release. SCALISE!

Electing a Black president who gave them health care really made racist Louisiana voters lose their fucking minds.

Endymion announced yesterday who the musical entertainment at their ball this coming Carnival will be, and you couldn’t pay me enough to attend; I actually feel bad for those who go to the Endymion Ball and will have to sit through performances by the trash they booked, aka Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani. Yuck, yuck, a thousand times yuck. At least their grand marshal will be Livvy Dunne, the former LSU gymnast and Instagram star. I literally can’t with Endymion. I guess Kid Rock and/or Jason Aldean weren’t available? What next, Endymion? Confederate flag throws?

Sigh.

I did work on “A Holler Full of Kudzu” last night; which I actually enjoyed doing and I also renamed the novella “Kudzu Jesus,” which feels like a much better title (although I still like that original one), since the story does involve religion in small town rural Alabama in the 1970s a bit. (I came up with this title when someone posted some pictures of kudzu vines on energy and/or telephone poles, which can sometimes look like Christ on the cross, hence Kudzu Jesus. I don’t know why I keep coming back to this story rather than working on Chlorine, but I think primarily that’s because of the trip next week and the potential for losing momentum by taking that break. Rationalize, rationalize, rationalize! But that’s what I am interested in working on right now, so that’s what I am doing.

And on that note, it’s time for me to hit the spice mines again. Have a great Hump Day Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Now, those are some mighty legs…

I Hold On

Well, here we are on an extremely cold Tuesday morning and it is very chilly here in the work station here in the kitchen; I don’t even want to think about how cold the floor would be against bare feet (which is why I have a very comfortable pair of house shoes). It is bitterly cold outside this morning; about thirty-one degrees, per the local weather. It ends tonight, by the way, and we’ll recede back into fall from winter tomorrow (highs in the high 60s, low 70s) with a chance at winter coming back relatively soon. I just laughed at myself for talking about the weather; I kind of do that every day, don’t I?

Then again, I am sixty-four, and the right age to sit outside a country store in a rocking chair wearing a railroad cap and overalls and chewing tobacco. There, but for choices…but I don’t think old men hang around outside the country store/gas station in rural areas anymore; that’s part and parcel of my childhood and that world doesn’t really exist anymore, much as I’d like to think that it does. It often crops up when I am writing about Alabama–because that’s how I remember it, and that Alabama is so far gone in the rear view mirror it cannot even be seen.

Despite Chuckie and the Quislings, yesterday was also a lovely day because that horrible witch Kim Davis’ appeal of the six figure settlement awarded to a couple that sued her skank cosplay christian ass for refusing to issue a marriage license for them? Yeah, for once the Supreme Court did the right thing and refused to hear her case. Womp fucking womp, bitch. Have fun in bankruptcy hell. Maybe your buddies in the Huckabee family will help you pay off that oh-so-deserved debt liability, you miserable bitch. Now you can slink back to the bog you slithered out of, and you will forever be known as a hateful bitch deserted by the people who used her to try to overturn Obergefell1, which SCOTUS is just itching to do (her case wasn’t good enough for even those partisan hacks to overturn their previous decision; they’re waiting for the right one, you know. They have lifetime appointments and aren’t going anywhere soon). Just like the murdering thugs George Zimmerman and that pasty Mama’s soft boy whose name I can’t even remember at the moment, they abandoned her as soon as she ceased to be of use to them. What a shame.

I was tired last night when I got home from the errands in the cold. Well, tired isn’t the right word; more like I felt drained and listless. The apartment wasn’t cold, but I didn’t really feel 100% most of the day, either. I feel better this morning–not much of a reach there–so maybe I’ll be able to get some things done tonight when I get home from work, whether it’s writing or reading my Donna Andrews mystery. (I have to say, when I was moving stuff around on the end table–reordering the TBR Next Pile; Wanda Morris is up next–and I opened the book to just take a look at the opening…and she talks about the mass suicide at Igbo Landing, which I’ve been reading about!!! I cannot wait to read this book now! I should also see how far behind I am on Wanda’s work….and it’s only this one I’ve not gotten to yet. Huzzah! Note to self: email her.) I also have dishes to put away and dishes to put in the dishwasher. Sigh. There are worse things, after all.

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

  1. She also needs to keep Jesus out of her skank mouth. Jesus never once preached arrogance in the faith or cruelty. You, madam, are arrogant in your faith AND cruel. Enjoy doing the breaststroke in the lake of eternal fire, blasphemer. ↩︎

You’ll Think of Me

Work-at-home Friday, and not a single meeting on my agenda for the day. Huzzah! I really hate meetings; I always have, primarily because so many of them fall into the “this could have been an email” category.

Yesterday was a very good day. Yes, I was alone in the clinic yesterday without a nurse, but we weren’t terribly busy and I was able to get a lot of my Admin duties–the ones that have to be done in the office–finished. I am almost completely caught up on everything, and I have been doing a very good job of keeping up with everything rather than the ever-popular meh, I can do it tomorrow thinking I so often fall into. But I’ve not been tired this week, which probably had to do with the time change and sleeping an hour later (technically) than I was. Once I am used to it, I’ll probably go back to being sleepy and tired all the time again. Something to look forward to?

And in other delightful news, a jury of his peers found Sean Dunn not guilty of a misdemeanor for throwing a Subway sandwich at an ICE agent, or “assault with a deadly sandwich.” This entire case–and that this went to fucking trial–is yet another indicator of the Keystone Cops-like approach to governance in this current “administration” and its authoritarian Fascistic policies. My personal favorite was the “victim” testifying about his PTSD from the sandwich exploding…despite the fact the sandwich can clearly be seen afterward, on the ground, still in its wrapper. I guess Mr. Alpha Male Ice Agent will be forever traumatized by the smell of onions and mustard. Grow a pair, you little bitch–balls or ovaries, I don’t care which. And seriously, everyone–yes, their grasp on power means their idiocy and fascism is scary, but this is yet another example of what whiny cry-babies the right are. Fuck them and forever, seriously. Their posturing has no basis or courage behind it.

As I said, when I got home from work last night, I wasn’t tired or fatigued; my hips didn’t even ache. I didn’t do a whole lot of anything around here, either; I caught up on watching the news and did some organizing of computer files, and I did write for a little while. It was, all in all, a very nice and relaxing evening at home. Before I start my work duties this morning, I am going to make a to-do list and put the dishes away and finish the laundry. I am thinking today is going to be my “don’t leave the house at all” day for the weekend–tomorrow I’ll make a short grocery run and get the mail–and hopefully this day, and the weekend, will be productive as well as relaxing. This morning, Sparky let me sleep in a bit before I finally got up, which was very appreciated. I feel good and rested this morning, and it looks to be a lovely day. This weekend we’re going to have extremely cold temperatures over night–potential freeze, too–so it’s a good “stay in my chair under a blanket” weather. I want to finish reading The Hunting Wives this weekend, and get started on my next book. I am going to go back to the pre-Halloween Horror Month methodology for reading something new to me, rereading something else, and reading a juvenile/young adult novel all at the same time. Maybe I can swap one of those out for nonfiction? I don’t know, we’ll have to see how The Hunting Wives goes this weekend. I’d also like to finish another newsletter essay, whether it’s the one about Boots or the one about going to my dad’s high school homecoming game when I was last in Alabama.

And of course, there’s always computer files to clean up and hard copy filing to do, too. And the chores; but I tried to keep up with them as much as I could this past week, so the downstairs isn’t too terrible.

I also can’t keep horror out of my mind, probably because I immersed myself so thoroughly in the genre for all of October. But watching those podcasts on Youtube about Appalachian/Southern lore and legend has been incredibly inspirational for my own horror writing. I’d also like to get some good foundational work done on Chlorine this weekend, too. I’m also still glowing from the election results from Tuesday; it’s nice to experience the audacity of hope again.

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

We really have the most gorgeous sky here.

Ridin’ My Thumb to Mexico

Tuesday! We survived Monday, Constant Reader, and lived to tell the tale. Huzzah for us! I also gave myself my first Skyrizi1 injection on my own, and it was pretty easy and simple. Before anxiety medications, I would have undoubtedly worked myself up into quite the tizzy about the injection, but as I said, it was pretty easy and before I knew it all the medicine was in my system and I could toss the device into the SHARPS container in my testing room. I didn’t even bleed, or feel the needle at all. Also, the first time I did it, with the pharmaceutical company’s nurse watching and helping, I wasn’t wearing my hearing aids so couldn’t hear it running. Not a problem with the hearing aids in, though! It actually sounded rather loud, frankly, so if there was any doubt about whether they help me hear better, there’s the answer.

I also spent some time yesterday filing my claim with the Anthropic settlement. They had eighteen of my titles (!!!), which was time consuming to enter each book into the claim database, but it could have been worse; they didn’t have all of my titles, praise Jesus. I doubt I’ll ever see a cent from this, but hey, I certainly wouldn’t had I not filed a claim, right? But it was sobering to see how much they stole from me–thought they had a right to steal from me–but we are again living in the time of the Long Con, aren’t we?

Speaking of long cons, I woke up to the news that Dick Cheney has died2. We used to call Darth Cheney back in those pre-Tea Party pre-MAGA pre-Obama days, because he was a horrible, evil man whose primary concerns were getting us into endless wars so the company he used to work for, Halliburton (remember them, anyone?), could make billions in profit. The Republicans of that era used 9/11 and its aftermath to consolidate power, pass the egregiously unconstitutional PATRIOT Act (the foundation for the bullshit we’re seeing today), and the creation of Homeland Security. Remember how quickly the “fiscally conservative” Republicans spent through the surplus Clinton left behind, and pissed all over the budget and the deficit? But hey, so long as Halliburton was profiting from the wars, right? They lied to the American public to get us into Iraq, and no one was ever held accountable, which is part of the reason we’re in the mess we’re in now; we don’t hold politicians accountable for lying to the citizenry.

And don’t even get me started on the homophobia of the Bush-Cheney years. He participated in a campaign that targeted queer people and homophobia despite having a queer child of his own, if that tells you anything about who, and what, Dick Cheney was. He eventually publicly changed his mind about queer people and marriage equality, but he never acknowledged or apologized for his war crimes, or his crimes against the American people. Y’all can mourn him all you like; but his family has always been just as bad as he was–and his daughter’s anti-Trump turn didn’t make up for all the bad shit she has said and done over the years, either–and the widow is just as vile as her husband, if not more so.

I also made groceries on the way home from work last night. I wasn’t tired, which was odd; it was a slow day at the clinic and so I was able to get some other administrative work done, which was very cool. Paul was working on a grant, so I spent the evening watching videos for research on Youtube and taking notes. I worked on a novella for a little while (A Holler Full of Kudzu, for those who take note of these sorts of things), which was fun–I do like creating without any deadline pressures on me–and I love that I am sliding back into writing mode again. I do love writing.

I also finished my final Halloween Horror Month newsletter for 2025, about my recent reread of The Haunting of Hill House, and why I love the book (and its author) so much. It may be the best essay I’ve done for the newsletter so far; which probably has everything to do with how much I love the book, and writing about it. I am always so nervous to do those kinds of essays; one of the reasons I am so insecure about them, especially when exploring the art of others, is that I don’t have the kind of educational background I feel might be necessary. I’ve not read scholarship or articles or essays about literature or film or television; my insights therefore might not be so fresh or original as I think they might be; is anything really original anymore? But…my opinions are just as valid as anyone else’s, and why do I need to read the opinions of others to form my own? Confidence is always the name of the game, and working through and ignoring the lack of it in my brain can only help me grow as a person and as a writer, right?

Easier said than done.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I will check back in again tomorrow morning.

Um, SIR YES SIR!!!
  1. This is the medication for the ulcerative colitis I have to inject every eight weeks. ↩︎
  2. He was 84, only a few years older than the current head of his party. ↩︎

Every Day is Halloween

Happy Halloween!

A hungry kitty has me up before dawn on this eve of All Hallows, and he is definitely needing more attention as I sit here swilling coffee; he keeps attacking me wanting to play, and doesn’t understand how sharp his Freddie Krueger claws are. I have work to do today, and lots of errands as well. Sparky needs to go to the vet for his annual shots and check-up (and his nails trimmed; we really need to learn how to do this ourselves, as it would stop a lot of bloodshed around here), and Paul needs to get his new phone set up. There’s also mail and some groceries and some other odds and ends to do either today or tomorrow. I feel very rested this morning, which is nice–and a good head start on the weekend, frankly; usually it takes me till Sunday to feel rested and not tired anymore.

I’m enjoying this fall weather (probably won’t take long for me to be over it, though) so far; but it’s nice not to be drenched in sweat as soon as I go outside the front door, or to have my car be as hot as the Sahara after sitting in the sun all day. The heat can be so draining and exhausting; just thinking about next summer makes me shudder a little bit inside. But the weather is another cost of living in New Orleans, that we all willingly pay (along with those nightmarish summer Entergy bills) while wondering how people survived here before electricity and climate control. Back when everyone wore a ridiculous amount of clothing and no electricity, how did they smell? (I often think about how rank the city must have been back in the day, when the gutters were deep for waste and water run off, in all that heat and humidity…yikes, indeed. I can’t get past that whenever I start thinking about writing about the past here…)

I also have thoughts about our janky governor turning himself into a mini-Mussolini, like the MAGA piece of shit he is, but I’ll save that for football Saturday since it’s LSU-related. Suffice it to say, he’s started down a path that could prove consequential for the state’s biggest priority–LSU sports–which would be received here in the state about as well as the worst of Jindal’s crimes as governor. On the other hand, if this winds up making him politically radioactive, it may be worth it. The funniest thing about it is he didn’t even go to LSU. Janky Jeff went to ULL and Loyola here in New Orleans–the same Loyola that rejected Turning Point’s request to be a recognized club. Jesuits aren’t having your MAGA bullshit, Janky Jeff! He also wants to put up a Charlie Kirk statue on LSU’s campus. Make sure you walk all the potential football recruits past that statue, and how is Charlie Kirk1 getting a statue on campus before Joe Burrow or Jayden Daniels? Janky Jeff’s priorities aren’t in the best interests of the flagship university…

I didn’t do a whole lot when I got home from work other than cuddle with Sparky and catch up on the news. I did work on the chores some; I need to do more of that this morning before taking Sparky to the vet; the apartment has looked worse before on Friday mornings, and there’s lots of filing to get done. I also want to finish my final Halloween Horror Month newsletter, since today is the last day for that, but I may just get that done over the weekend. I’ve already made this weekend inclusive for the Halloween weekend, so I don’t even need to rationalize anything! Win-win.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and get to work. Have a lovely Halloween, everyone!

Bad Bunny!
  1. And why not put up statues of Rush Limbaugh and David Duke while you are at it, Janky? ↩︎