Category: new car

You’re All I’ve Got Tonight

Thursday! Interestingly enough, after being so pleased yesterday morning and bragging about not having had insomnia in a long time was a mistake. I woke up around three this morning and never went back to sleep–if I did, it wasn’t very deep and I was waking up every ten minutes or so. This means I will hit a wall today, and probably earlier than I have been lately. I wanted to run errands on the way home from work tonight, but it’s not looking good. If I am worn out, I won’t want to drive uptown and should probably just come straight home. I need a few things from the grocery, but I might just have them delivered instead.

Unspeakable Sins continues to enthrall. Our primary villain was murdered in last night’s episode, and everyone in the main cast is a suspect (the episode was very “Who Shot JR?” in its staging and writing and very well done) and we’re on to the last three episodes of the season, which we should finish off tonight.

Well, I didn’t finish or post this yesterday. I am not sure why that happened, but I started doing some other things before getting ready for work and when I got home last night, I was surprised to see I’d never finished or posted this. I was right about yesterday–I was very tired when I got off work, but decided to do some of the errands on the way home. I picked up the mail, picked up three books I’d ordered (the new Donna Andrews, the new Scott Carson, and The Hunting Wives), but forgot to pick up prescriptions, which means I have to go back uptown today–which I’d hoped to avoid. I was extremely tired when I got home, and started watching a new National Geographic documentary about Katrina. I decided to bite the bullet and see how watching it went; if it was a trigger, I would stop watching. I didn’t finish the first episode, because Paul came home and we watched the new South Park1 and laughed our asses off before watching the final three episodes of Unspeakable Sins, which was excellent–and wrapped up everything, but also left us with a final shot that could be the set up for a second season should it be renewed.

Watching the documentary wasn’t triggering at all–at least not what I’d seen by the time Paul got home–and so I am going to finish watching it this weekend. I think twenty years was enough time for the PTSD to finally end (I am also taking anti-anxiety medication, which could help with this). We were able to watch Five Days at Memorial, which was a reenactment of what happened at that hospital with an emotional remove; maybe because it wasn’t actual documentary footage but a reenactment with Hollywood stars, I don’t know. Paul and I did watch it for a bit before I put on South Park, and we were remembering our own evacuation all those years ago without any sadness or emotion; it was nostalgia–I can smile about it now, I suppose, but we were so terrified on I-10 East and worried we wouldn’t get out in time. I also remember it started raining as we were on the twin spans to Slidell over the lake. Sigh. I was thinking I might post my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” to my newsletter, but it is over twenty thousand words long.

Or I could write another one., from my current perspective. We’ll see.

I’m not making big plans to get a lot done this weekend, as that never seems to work out for me and that always starts a guilt spiral. Who needs that in their life? Certainly not me! I have a meeting at ten and some day job duties to get done today. I have Monday off as well; it’s my final infusion and I couldn’t get my usual nine a.m. appointment so I could go to work after; this time they only had eleven a.m., which is smack dab in the middle of the day so I decided to use some sick time and just come home after I am done. I can also pick up lunch while I’m out in Metairie. I’m going to try to be a homebody this weekend, because I know the infusion is going to fatigue me. I may just read the rest of that day and rest.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later!

The Avenue of the Sphinxes connecting the temples at Luxor and Karnak, Egypt
  1. I have thoughts and concerns about this season, which is brilliant. ↩︎

Rocket

Tuesday morning and I didn’t want to get out of bed It’s just so comfortable, you know? I ended up not running errands yesterday on my way home from work (so will have to run them tonight, I reckon). I came home, did some things, and then became a cat bed while I caught up on the world burning to the ground. We started watching Untamed last night on Netflix, which is a crime show set in Yosemite with Eric Bana, and certainly held our interest. There were times when I couldn’t watch–standing on the edge of a cliff, or rapellers, trapped on the side of said cliff face–where the extremity of the straight drop unsettled me (I was also deeply uncomfortable watching that Spider-Man Homecoming scene at the Washington Monument) and so I went into the kitchen until said scenes were over. I thought I might have some of my recurring nightmares about falling from a great height, but thank God, I was spared that horror. But the show also shows off how beautiful Yosemite is; when I lived in California I was only a few hours away and I had friends who grew up in those mountains, so I went up there periodically. (I also fictionalized one of those towns as Woodbridge in Sorceress and Sleeping Angel. I have another partial manuscript set there as well, which I should finish at some point.)

I hate being afraid of heights. It’s been a lifelong thing for me, and it’s unusual in that some things bother me while other things don’t. I love roller coasters, but there’s not enough money in the world to get me on a Ferris wheel. Balconies don’t bother me, but windows where you can look straight down from a great height? No thank you. Looking out an airplane window doesn’t phase me in the least, but ski lifts are terrifying. (I did get a bit uncomfortable during Superman when he went up into space before hurtling back down to earth, too.) I don’t know so much that it’s a fear of heights so much as it is falling from a great height. Or is that the same thing? I don’t know.

We’re also in another heat advisory, through tonight at seven–like every day when the tropical weather isn’t threatening. Our forecast doesn’t show rain again until late tomorrow afternoon, and my sinuses have been behaving, which is a very good sign. I also don’t feel terribly tired and/or worn out this morning, either–despite not wanting to get out of bed, but that’s because I was comfortable and relaxed, more than wanting to sleep later. Don’t get me wrong, I could probably fall asleep again if I went back to bed, but I feel alert this morning more so than I have in a really long time. Maybe that means I can get things done tonight after work instead of being a cat bed for the evening.

And I really do have a lot of work to do at home tonight.

It also seems like the infusions are controlling the ulcerative colitis, for which I am very grateful. I have yet to eat anything that has triggered it back into gear again, and I am also very grateful for that. I also realized yesterday–with my birthday looming–that I am eligible for Medicare next year, so I need to start looking into that as well. I also need to look at the employee handbook to see whether the agency will keep my insurance the way it is, or if I need to go on Medicare after all. Sigh. I hate dealing with this sort of thing, which means I always put it off, scan it when I need to, and never really have a thorough understanding of whatever it is once I am signed up for it–like my current insurances, both health and car.

I also posted a newsletter talking about Superman yesterday; you can read it here. I didn’t say everything I wanted to about the character and how it developed over the years. I didn’t even mention the key element of his personality and who he is: a symbol of hope. Truth be told, I could write about Superman every day for the rest of my life…well, I’d probably have to substitute other super-heroes along the way…but he is an excellent place to start. I hate that my memory has become so bad over the last few years–so much I don’t remember a lot anymore–that I don’t recall everything I’ve read about Superman (and/or DC Comics) over the years.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely and happy Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you in the morning tomorrow, okay?

The Main Thing

Work at home Friday, as we head into this weekend. It started sprinkling here around lunch time, and the deluge came after one. It was pouring, but only lasted for about an hour or so–but a lot of water came down. The rest of the day was just gray, with an occasional light sprinkle. My sinuses behaved, surprisingly, and I wasn’t that tired when I left for home. There was no traffic on the highway; I only had to slow down on the ramp to I-10 rather than the usual stop-and-go fifteen minutes it is usually. I guess a lot of people stayed home yesterday…but all of our appointments also showed up, which was nice. Looking at the weather this morning–currently sunny with scattered clouds, potential of rain at any moment until tomorrow–it appears we missed most of the rain yesterday, which wound up west of the city. The Atchafalaya basin got 11 inches of rain (!!!) yesterday instead of us; 11 inches of rain would have shut New Orleans down for the day. I slept very deeply and restfully last night, so I have no idea if we got any rain overnight. I feel pretty good this morning, too. The coffee is going down well, my coffee cake was perfection, and I’ll have either toast or cereal or yogurt as a follow up later. We’re still planning on going to Costco after work today, but that will depend on the rain. I also have dinner plans with a friend, but again–that will depend on the weather.

I did some chores when I got home from work last night–dishes and laundry–but my mind was pretty much mush by the time I was done with that, and then Paul came home while I was catching up on the news (Epstein! Epstein! Epstein!), and we started watching season two of America’s Sweethearts: The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders–which we used to watch when it aired on TNN as Making the Team. It’s definitely lots of fun; Paul and I are always fascinated by the two women who run the program, Kelly and Judy, who’ve pretty much dedicated their entire lives to the Dallas cheerleader program. (They also belong on a Real Housewives franchise, but are probably too busy.) I’m always fascinated by how these young women are sexualized by that uniform, but the show is always very careful to focus the cameras on the ones who come across as very sweet and virginal–or can play the part for the cameras, at least. I will definitely be talking more about this show!

But we’re on the cusp of another weekend, and I don’t have nearly as many chores to get done as I usually do, so I have a bit of a head start on the weekend; I won’t have to spend tomorrow morning cleaning or doing much of anything around here, so I can focus on reading my current books (Megan Abbott, Elizabeth Peters, Jay Bennett) and write. I’m not sure if the plans for the weekend include seeing Superman, but it’s playing in convenient nearby theaters, so it’s not a huge stretch for us to be able to see it. I’ve been a Superman fan since I was a kid and discovered the comic books and all the other media featuring him; I’ve read books, comic books, watched television shows and movies with him over the years–but I am also not one of those “fans” who feels betrayed by differences in adaptations, either. (Did Archie purists whine about Riverdale?) I’ve always been interested in the concept of super-heroes/metahumans etc., and have wanted to explore it in fiction sometime. But how can you be original when so much has been already done? Sigh. I always feel derivative when I’m writing anything, but that, I suspect, is a part of my imposter syndrome.

I really wish I could analyze the imposter syndrome right out of my brain.

It looks like we aren’t getting much rain today, after all, which will make the day a lot easier to deal with for errands and so forth. Huzzah! (The sun is shining now.)

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Sorry to be so dull, but that’s just the way it goes some weeks, you know? I will be back tomorrow morning, if not sooner; one never can be sure when the mood will strike! But have a great Friday, Constant Reader!

Steve Reeves in Trojan Horse

Take a Chance With Me

Well, here we are on Monday morning and I am getting my second infusion today, which means driving out to Clearview on I-10 and spending two hours in a heated massage chair as I get this stuff infused into my blood stream before heading to the office. I am already a bit groggy and sleepy/tired this morning, so who knows how I am going to feel once I am finished? I got nothing done yesterday–Paul came downstairs and turned on Wimbledon, which I then got sucked into watching, and soon enough I was no longer in the mood to get much of anything done. The chair is like a black hole sucking me in…and of course, Sparky turned my lap into a bed for most of the day as I watched the MAGA meltdown and civil war raging across all news networks and all political influencers. What can I say? I enjoyed a lot of cruel laughs at their expense (odds they’ll begin to think he’s lying about other things? Too soon to tell) last night–but while everyone not in the MAGA bubble is very well aware of the Trump/Epstein connection and have been for a very long time…I’m beginning to think they had no idea? And thought of course if your only source for news coverage is Fox or Newsmax–which would never do anything to connect Dear Leader with convicted sex trafficking pedophile–you might not have known.

Which could finally explain the shock and horror– and the outright rejection of the party line.

Could this be the tipping point? There was an awful lot of anger from the right over the weekend; even Hitler Mini-me Nick Fuentes pronounced MAGA dead and “good riddance.” Did I miss a falling out between that POS and MAGA?

And for the record, Pam Bondi has always been trash.

We did finish watching Too Much last night, and kudos to both Megan Stalter and Will Sharpe for inhabiting the main characters and their relationship. They really had great chemistry together, and Sharpe is both charismatic and handsome. He looked familiar, and I think it’s because when he was on season 2 of The White Lotus (which also got him an Emmy nomination) all the gay sites were posting shots of him from the show in his underwear, so he was kind of everywhere but not in a way that would stick in my mind (I looked him up, and once I saw the pictures from The White Lotus I knew where I knew him from). We really enjoyed the show and the romance between their characters. I don’t know if there will be a second season or not; the first season kind of definitively ended, but I can also see how they could spring a second season out of that ending.

I did do some more filing and cleaning around here yesterday, and ordered some groceries for delivery. I have to stop again on my way home from the office to get a couple of things I couldn’t order, but based on my bloodwork from the other day I probably should cut ice cream and some other high-sugar foods out of my life again. I’ve reached the weight I’d like to stay at (actually, I’m a bit heavier than my preference), so it’s time to start eating in a more healthy manner again.

I’m taking Megan Abbott’s new one with me to read during the two hours of the infusion, primarily to keep me off my phone, and get back into the swing of reading. Tonight I am going to put my editing hat back on and start tearing through all the things I need to get written by the end of the month. I’m not really sure what we are going to watch next, but I know I want to see the new Taron Edgerton show on Apple Plus; I’m a fan, what can I say? But we may have to wait until it finishes airing to stream it all at once.

And on that note, I am heading on out there. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning with a report about whether or not the infusion made me tired again.

No More Words

Monday morning and I have an ophthalmologist appointment before I head into work. I slept super-great again last night, but didn’t really want to get up this morning. The appointment is pretty far out for me in Kenner (near Clearview), and I have no idea what time I will get to work. This is to check me for Stargardt disease, which my sister has and is genetic. I also have errands to run after work tonight–post office, make some groceries–before I come home to an apartment and all my chores. I was very tired yesterday–drained from the trip and all the driving over three days or so–and was able to only get some filing and organizing done, as well as ordered groceries for delivery and put them all away. The sink has dishes in it, there are dishes in the dishwasher that need to be put away, and the floors are always the worst. If I can stand it, I can do a bit every night before really focusing on it Friday, which is a holiday I don’t feel much like celebrating or acknowledging this year, given the dismantling of everything since January. I also have to get the bills figured out–I am terribly confused about these medical bills I am getting–and have a shit load of writing to do.

We started watching Olympo, a Spanish series about an athletic training school, and it’s quite fun. Not as fun as Elité, but we’re also only three episodes in. The big mystery of season one seems to be the use of performing enhancing drugs, with a swimmer collapsing and another swimmer determined to find out what’s going on. There’s also queer content; both gay and sapphic, which is very fun. Naturally, the cast is all gorgeous young Spaniards, which makes it very pleasant to watch. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I need to finish reading my current three reads (Summerhouse, Sing Me a Death Song, The Crying Child) before moving on to my next three. I also need to get back writing again; it seems like months since I’ve worked on anything, which is silly–I worked on writing last week, but the trip makes everything seem like it all happened an eternity ago, which is one of those weird time things I’m becoming more and more aware of the longer I live. I also need to clean out my email inbox, pay some bills, and pull my life back together–I’ve not been on top of things since I got sick after Saints and Sinners, really. Definitely need to. make a to-do list and a grocery list before heading out this morning, and maybe do some things around here before leaving for the appointment.

I did go down a research rabbit hole on Youtube again yesterday, though–more 1970s research, and I was also remembering the Bicentennial and how it really started overpowering the zeitgeist after President Nixon resigned and was pardoned. Next year is the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence; I am a little surprised that it’s not as big of a deal, or even a deal at all, so far. But we were a different country in 1976 than we are now, aren’t we? I was still in high school, we’d just moved to Kansas, and the Olympics were coming up, too–Montreal and Nadia Comaneci–so that was a busy summer for me, and one of major changes for one Gregalicious. (If you think it wasn’t a major change to go from a suburban Chicago high school to a rural one in Kansas, think again.) I also have Alabama stories bouncing through my head since I drove home on Saturday.

But now I have to get back to the spice mines and make that to-do list before cleaning up for the appointment and a short day in the office. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow as the month changes and the summer ratchets everything up even hotter than it was in June.

It’s going to be a looooong summer….

The Metro

Wednesday, and in about five hours I’ll be heading out on I-10 East to connect to 59 north to make it up to Where-we-are-from, Alabama–with pit stops for gas, food, and bathroom, it should only take between five and six hours. If I owe you an email, it probably won’t come before next week, as I come back here on Saturday and then Sunday have to prepare for the coming week.

I will be listening to John Copenhaver’s Hall of Mirrors, which I am embarrassed to admit I’ve not yet read. I had started it, but got distracted by something–oh yes, I meant to take it on a trip with me and left it sitting on the counter instead of putting it into my backpack, so had to read something else, and then never got back around to it, which is disgraceful conduct by a reader, frankly. But I am grateful for forgetful me of the past because now I can enjoy it on my drive. I had thought about getting caught up on Donna Andrews or Carol Goodman or Lisa Unger; I am frightfully behind on all of them as well–I really don’t want to think about all the wonderful authors whose work I have fallen behind on, because it will just depress me.

I did do some work on a project last night doing something I’ve not done in a long time; mapping out a book and writing out biographies of the main characters, as well as the through-line of the crime. I’d gotten to the point that I didn’t really need to do this anymore; the characters would often reveal themselves to me as I wrote about them, but when you’re not writing as much as you used to and need to get back on that horse, go back to the things you used to do when you were trying to become a writer, that made the writing actually easier to do rather than trying to think it all up as you go. I’ve really gotten lazy with my writing, but a lot of it is, as I said, the muscles were always pretty much warmed up and strong and raring to go, so the extra steps I used to take when I was getting started no longer seemed necessary; I am also working on an outline–I can’t remember the last time I outlined a novel. But here we are, and I’ve always been about adapting to get things done and make progress. I think it is going to turn out pretty well, to be honest. I’m kind of excited about this and getting back to the Scotty, in all honesty. Soon, my precious, soon…

Ironically, I was too tired to pack last night and didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, either–but I also realized, this morning, that it actually made more sense to come home after work and pack, and leave from home rather than from the office. Leaving directly from the office would shave an entire five minutes off the drive, and is that five minutes really worth the hassle than leaving an hour later this afternoon will create? No, it really wasn’t. And while I always try to be time-efficient–a lifelong habit I am trying to break now because it’s part and parcel of my anxiety, and letting go of anxiety is always a good thing–getting there around seven instead of six? I’ll still be tired from the drive and will end up going to sleep early, so what difference does it make?

Progress, I think.

I also doubt I’ll be around here much until I get back Saturday, so probably the next entry will come on Sunday. I think you can handle it, Constant Reader, so until then–adieu.

Massive Ramses II at the Egyptian Museum

Pictures of You

Yesterday was lovely, really. Sparky let me sleep a little longer than normal, and I felt good when I woke up, although unsure as to whether or not I would be fatigued and foggy-brained yet again for the day. But breakfast and morning coffee were marvelous, and I started doing some chores while watching coverage of the game from the other night. I also was basking a bit in the afterglow of that insane final two innings and the insanity of the win–going into that bottom of the ninth, and two outs from Arkansas winning? Apparently, Arkansas has never won the College World Series and is also 0-5 overall playing LSU there. That, and the fact that errors cost them this game, has got to be galling for their fans. I’m sure it doesn’t go down any easier since the Razorbacks also see LSU as one of their major rivals. It’s also kind of weird–and nice–to see LSU fans on-line congratulating and talking up the Razorbacks since the game; we all felt bad for those kids suffering through such a heartbreaking loss. I was glad to see it wasn’t just me; the finals will seem almost kind of anticlimactic now. I hope the Arkansas players–especially poor Charles Davalan–are feeling better now. And now I kind of feel like I should root for them in the future when they aren’t playing LSU. Well done, Arkansas baseball team–you’ve made Arkansas a secondary team for me to root for, which I would have never thought possible.

It’s never dull being an LSU fan. That game was intense.

Anyway.

I also watched Surviving Ohio State–Jim Jordan should be behind bars–while finishing The Dark on the Other Side, which was a lot more interesting than I remembered. All of Barbara Michaels’ work is good, but this one isn’t quite as good as the ones I consider her best (Ammie Come Home, The Crying Child, Be Buried in the Rain, House of Many Shadows, and Witch); but she is an excellent Gothic writer, and probably a much bigger influence on me as a writer mysel than I’ve probably ever realized; the Scotty books are actually kind of similar in tone to some of her Elizabeth Peters novels, which are also delightful. I am debating what my next reread will be; I was thinking about another Michaels that I’ve not revisited in a while (The Crying Child) or, since it’s Pride Month, perhaps Myra Breckinridge? I was thinking about Gore Vidal the other day, which reminded me of the book, and wondered how it would hold up to modern scrutiny. I will not lie; I’ve read it twice at different periods of my life and didn’t know what to make of it–and with the current day trans community under relentless attack, I thought maybe try it again? I do remember how it ends, and I am not entirely certain how any reading of the book could make the ending not problematic–but the thing about Vidal is he never gave a shit; I can only imagine how vitriolic he would be about modern times and social media and trigger warnings…he died before social media became the monster it did, and when someone came for him he threw acid back at them. He didn’t mind offending people, nor did he take criticism well.

Although I suppose the fact Myra Breckinridge has never appeared on any list of great and/or influential and/or important queer novels that I’ve ever seen is probably giving me my answer about whether the book has aged well or not.

Surviving Ohio State was horrifying, simply horrifying. I do not believe Jim Jordan and the head coach didn’t know what was going on, but I also can’t understand why they didn’t stop it. It was also infuriating to see how shitty people can be about male sexual assault victims (the patriarchy at work again, hand in glove with toxic masculinity), especially ones that are athletes, without taking into consideration how young and naïve so many of them were. I’ve been thinking a lot about the things we take for granted in order to function in this life and world, and one of the things is trusting medical professionals. When you’re young and have been raised to with that institutional trust (trusting doctors, and trusting that your college will take care of you and protect you from predators), and the fact that it seems like everyone knows and acts like it’s not a big deal (Narrator Voice: It was, in fact, quite a big fucking deal), what do you do? It’s horrifically corrupt, just as both Penn State and Michigan State were institutionally corrupt in how they handled their athletic staff’s predatory conduct. The documentary left me very angry, and hating Jim Jordan even more than I already did. (Of course, if I were writing the story Dr. Strauss would have been murdered, which would have uncovered his behavior–only to have the murder not be related to the abuse at all.) Unsettling, but I think everyone should watch this documentary.

Today is a work remotely day, and I feel pretty good this morning. I rested for the most part yesterday, which was nice, and slept really well last night, too. I have things to get done today–some of it very tedious, but it has to be done–for work but being at home makes it a little better for me. We’re going to go to Costco after work today, and run some other errands as well, before coming home and settling in for the weekend. I have a lot of things I need to get done this weekend, writing-wise, so hopefully today won’t wear me out too much and I can get everything done. I need to finish a short story, and I need to work on some of my other writing as well. If I miss the short story deadline it’s not the end of the world; the story is an excerpt from what I hope will turn out to be a much longer work, so if I don’t get it finished and submitted it’s not the end of the world. I didn’t anticipate the fatigue and foggy brain I’d get from Monday’s infusion, and so didn’t really plan for it.

AH, well.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and make my breakfast before going to work. Have a great Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later today or tomorrow morning. Until then…

Nureyev. Need I say more?

Scorpio

Saturday in the Lost Apartment and all is well. It’s hot and humid, with chance of rain (the New Orleans weather forecast for almost every day between May and October). We did have a thunderstorm yesterday, which was lovely. I got chores done, my work at home duties completed, and while I didn’t write much, I made lots of notes on what I am working on so that I can actually get to writing today. LSU baseball plays Arkansas tonight (and Tiger fans are winning the Jello Shot competition yet again in Omaha), so I should be able to get things done today while I wait for the game. We started watching Harlan Coben’s Caught on Netflix last night, which I think is an Argentinian production, but we are really enjoying it. I slept really well last night, too, and Sparky the alarm cat allowed me another hour’s sleep this morning, which was lovely.

I also did some reading yesterday, which was nice, too. I hope to do more reading today, as well, which should be pretty awesome. I need to do some more chores this morning, too–the dishwasher needs to be emptied, for one, and the floors, like always, need to be done as well. I also need to get the mail and stop to make groceries, and perhaps to have some others delivered, too. I am feeling better these days, which is nice, and it’s even nicer to sleep through the night every night, which I suspect is part of the feeling better thing. I get to drive out to Metairie Monday morning for my first infusion, and yes, the pharmacy bill hit my insurance for the hospital stay and it’s over twenty thousand dollars. I mean, yikes–but yes, the pesky deductible is paid off, so everything health-related for me for the rest of the year should be free, which is lovely–especially since I think my primary care doctor is going to order blood-work again when I see him again a week from Monday. And the Monday after that I am seeing an ophthalmologist to check to see if I have Stargartz, a macular degeneration disease that is apparently genetic as well and which my sister has already been diagnosed with.

I also realized, while making notes and free-associating in my journal about this story I am working on–“The Lake Must Be Fed”–that the last thousand words or so that I’ve written on it have to go, because I bogged it down, by deciding to have my characters go inside one of their houses and talk about what’s happening rather than have some action–which turned it into a snooze. Glad I realized it before I continued writing it as it is, which would have been an utter waste of time, and I am also glad I realized it rather than taking it to its logical conclusion from what I had done, only to have it rejected and for me to spend the next three years wondering what is wrong with the story, which happens a lot, and in some cases it’s decades. I have forty year old first drafts I don’t know what to do with, but since they’re written I always feel they can be fixed at some point, you know–and yes, it is kind of embarrassing to review old work and see how much my writing has improved since back then, you know? And the real problem is actually that I was writing queer stories about straight people, so they were inauthentic at their base level. But yes, the conversation in this story needs to be deleted, and I need to write a terrifying action scene in a boat on a lake in the major thunderstorm1, so might as well do that today, right? I also have some research to do today or tomorrow; one for an essay/newsletter, and the other is for Chlorine, so I can return the library books.

I also have a four day holiday from going into the office this week; Juneteenth on Thursday is a holiday, and of course Friday is my remote day, so that will be kind of nice, methinks, and very restful. And then that next week I am off to meet Dad in Alabama, and that will be nice. I’ve not seen Dad since February, so it’ll be nice to spend some time with him as well as reaffirm my deeply rooted connection to Alabama, which I continue to reexamine all the time. I’m also writing a short story set in Alabama, so the visit will help a lot.

I also need to make a to-do list, and get some other things figured out this weekend.

I imagine this blog is very often the very same thing almost every day, only worded differently (or so I hope): writing, reading, cleaning, errands. I did publish a new newsletter yesterday, about how I didn’t get the gay fashion gene, to go along with this one from earlier this week, about body image issues, including my own. Click on the links to read them, if you are so inclined. I am working on a few more for Pride Month that I want to get posted before July, after which it will most likely go back to reviewing art that interests me, and/or talking about writing and publishing, or things that influenced me. I also have some already finished, that are going to be posted in July. July is also going to be my “get back to work on your book” month, so hopefully this lengthy break in which I got healthy and rested, as well as strengthening my writing muscles, will pay dividends when I get back to it.

And on that note, I’m going to get cleaned up and make that to-do list, as well as start doing chores and working on that short story. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a lovely day, and if you’re out protesting, stay safe.

  1. See? Writing about rain again. ↩︎

Song Sung Blue

Weeping like a willow….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

King of My Heart

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

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

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

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

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

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

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