Category: Politics

I Sing for Things

Wednesday Pay the Bills Day again, and yet another cold morning here in the Lost Apartment. Yesterday was bitterly cold again, and our “break” from the cold is today, getting up into the fifties before we slide back down into the freezing water level and even….SINGLE DIGITS this weekend. It’s in the low thirties outside, and my workspace is really chilly. I forgot to set my alarm last night, but woke up when I was supposed to, which was nice–and I did it without Sparky’s help. Usually he’s trying to get me up before the alarm goes off, but not this morning. He was curled up somewhere warm downstairs, obviously, because he was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs this morning when I came down. Sigh. I have to run errands tonight after work–prescription, some groceries, gas–so am hoping it won’t be too terrible outside when my work shift is over. If not, oh, well. The one thing I don’t like about the cold weather is how my legs get so tired and achy so much faster–and leg exhaustion pretty much sets the tone for your entire body, doesn’t it?

But I did some chores last night–started some laundry, ran the dishwasher before putting the dishes away, cleaned the counters–and it was very nice coming down to a clean kitchen this morning. Note to self: the reason for doing chores during the week is to stay on top of it so I don’t have to spend time on the weekends getting it all caught up. I plan on doing another book purge this week, too, and to do some organizing of the bookcases again. It looks so much nicer and neater in the living room with all those books gone…and absolutely must remember to continue purging when I get to the point where I feel like it’s okay to buy books again.

I spent a lot of time last night watching news clips, interviews, and influencer podcasts about the fallout from the fascism we’ve all witnessed in Minneapolis. (It doesn’t escape my cynical notice that everyone went completely nuts about this–right and left–once they’d murdered a straight white man on camera…so, not to worry, racialized people, queers and women: we still care more about straight white men than any other demographic in this country.) The blame game, the quick shift by Kristi Noem to “just following orders,” and the possible fall of the vile Stephen Miller and his pick-me skank of a wife (IMAGINE seeing that naked and letting him inside of you…I may never stop internally screaming) was just too delicious of a train wreck to look away from. It almost feels like they are in the “find out” part of FAFO, but they are literally like the walking dead. Firing Bovino, Noem, Lewandowski (her adulterous LOVER), and Miller is just a start, for the record. Nothing less than prosecution will suffice.

That, and never being able to show their disgusting faces in public again without heckling.

When I’ve talked recently about wishing everyone could just let us enjoy Heated Rivalry and its success without being jackasses, I was referring to the Cyd Ziegler/Empty Netters podcast that’s been going on since late last week and early into this one. At first, the piece in Outsports was terribly disappointed, as it seemed to indicate that the guys on the podcast were actually homophobic trash who pretended to like the show for views and clicks, by exposing text messages the one supposedly sent to a friend. Obviously, he knew who he sent the texts to–as they are still in his phone–and he did a video defending himself, claiming, as always, they were taken out of context and the timeline of how things happened and played out were muddled to make him look worse. Some of his defensive language was problematic, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole thing…but then I got some more context on Cyd Ziegler, the Outsports journalist who exposed the story.

Cyd is a registered Republican gay man in Florida who supports Ron DeSantis, so anything he says is bound to be suspect, and his claim of years of gay advocacy and activism is rather suspect, given his politics. If you are a gay man, claiming advocacy and activism–how the fuck can you be a Republican and support Don’t Say Gay DeSantis? The backlash was so strong he backtracked, but…you can never believe or trust anything a Republican says, because they lie like it’s mother’s milk to them.

And yes, I will stand in solidarity with straight allies who might not have the best education on queer rights or issues over a self-loathing gay Republican every fucking day of the week. We may both be gay, but we have significantly different values and morals. Queer MAGA, to me, is even more despicable than straight MAGA…”fuck those fags, I’m not like those pansies” is an attitude and mentality I will never align with or support or stand with in solidarity. There’s an essay in this, methinks, for the newsletter.

I also started the new version of Chlorine, and it’s slow going so far; maybe eight hundred words or so? But the voice feels right, and I am looking forward to getting back into it again today.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning for my weekly “last day in the office” blog. STAY WARM!!!

When gorgeous, muscular men are involved, wrestling can create living sculpture as art. Meta will, naturally, hide this as “adult content”

Nothing Ever Changes

Tuesday of our latest arctic blast, but all is comfy and warm inside the Lost Apartment, which is lovely. The dry heat used to bother me–it still bugs Paul–but I’ve adjusted to it and it’s not the worst thing in the world. I mean, we could have to be out protesting in the streets in below zero temperatures (Minnesotans are making me very proud to be American, because fuck this fascist bullshit, now and forever.) I even saw an anthology call for short stories yesterday with the theme American Gestapo and you can bet your ass I am going to write something for that call. I have more than a few things to say about the collapse of American democracy, and a lot of scorn for those who cheer the decline and fall. I, for one, never expected the Reich-wing flip-flop on carrying a gun and gun ownership1, but these are indeed the strangest of times. And now it looks like the siege of Minneapolis might finally be ending; Bovino the Temu SS officer has been fired, and hopefully, that disgusting pile of filth known as Kristi Noem will be thrown under the bus along with him. Was this third government execution of an American citizen a turning point? Maybe, at long last. (So far, they’ve killed a black man–most people don’t know that part; outrage grew over the white woman; and exploded over the white man…as it ever was and is and will be.)

I mean, when you’ve lost the NRA and Greg motherfucking Abbott, it’s really is time for some serious self-reflection, isn’t it?

It’s cold again this morning, but it’s going to warm up a little before the next arctic blast (worse than the first) arrives later this week. We’re talking single digit weather in New Orleans, of all places. It’s going to be a weird weekend. I am going to try to get everything errand-wise finished by Friday, so I can stay indoors from Friday evening to Monday morning. Tis very cold here in my bay windows this morning, but it was pleasant at work yesterday (as opposed to our last cold spell, when the office was freezing). I slept so well last night–that pile of blankets was incredibly warm and comfortable and cozy last night, and I really hated to get out from under them this morning. When I got home from my errands last night (I had also ordered some groceries for delivery, too), I changed into my home-clothes (sweatpants and a hoodie and slippers), and sat down in my chair to read for a bit and watch the news before doing some chores, but Sparky had other ideas. He plopped into my lap and went to sleep…and then I was so comfortable, between him and the blanket, that I really never got back up again, other than for something to drink or snacks. It was entirely too comfortable, really.

Yesterday wasn’t bad at work, either. I wasn’t in the clinic after all, so I spent the day doing Admin stuff and getting caught up on everything–I’m never really very behind on anything anymore, but letting things slide always gets me in trouble. We’re slow this week, too, so I should be able to be all caught up on office work by Thursday when I leave. Huzzah!

I also finished my first promotional newsletter for Hurricane Season Hustle, which you can read right here! I need to do at least another one–the book officially drops on February 10–and I am getting really behind on the newsletters, aren’t I? The goal was once a week, and I’ve strayed very far from that initial ideal/goal over the last couple of years. I have so many started….and I really need to get more done, especially since (as with everything) I keep getting more ideas for them all the time! Heavy heaving sigh. It’s very hard to get things done, though, when I’m cold–but I need to stop giving in to the easy laziness and power through, don’t I?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and stay safe and warm–especially those in Minneapolis and Maine. I’ll be back tomorrow!

  1. Funny how they change their tune on everything, isn’t it? Suddenly the people who need a fucking AK-47 to go get coffee at Starbucks claim if you carry a gun in public the cops or a federal agent can shoot you? But, no, we’re the brainwashed ones… ↩︎

Rock a Little

Monday morning and it’s back to the spice mines with me this morning. There are worse things I could do, one supposes. The cold has arrived; it’s only 29 outside and I can absolutely tell as I swill coffee and shiver a bit here at my home workspace. Sparky has been glued to me since I got up–although why he isn’t cuddled up with Paul in the bed is indeed a mystery to me; that’s where I’d be if the alarm hadn’t gone off and I could have slept another few hours, comfy and cozy and warm under my pile of blankets. But I am awake, it’s not terribly cold inside (it could be worse) and we didn’t lose power, which is a big plus. That was my primary concern–the loss of power and no heat, like that year we didn’t have heat and it froze on Mardi Gras day. Shiver. That was beyond miserable, and not an experience I would like to relive at any point in my life.

This is my first full week of work this year so far–I think; there may have been one earlier that I’ve forgotten about, but it’s been a hot minute since I’ve had to go into the office four days in a row. I don’t think I have to work in the clinic this morning, but have been wrong before. Either way, it’ll be fine. I do hope Dad and the rest of my family in Kentucky have power and are safe and warm and staying inside. They are–I just checked the power outage map up there. Whew. It’s really not feeling too terribly cold this morning; despite the low temperature, but my hips, ankles and Achilles tendons are aching this morning. The most fun thing about being old when it gets cold is these aches I never used to have.

I found myself in a bit of malaise yesterday; more of an emotional exhaustion than anything else. The state of the country and the world just got to be a bit overwhelming for me this weekend–the existential horror of everything was a bit too much and it kind of got to me. What can I say? How are you coping with the daily burning of the Constitution by the fascist administration? I couldn’t focus to write–I did take some notes, but when thinking about anything that I am currently writing, it just seemed kind of pointless and frivolous. I know we need art and literature to help people get through these horrifying times, and feeling and expressing and creating joy in dark times can be a beacon of hope for people trying to cope…but sometimes, I just need to accept that it’s overwhelming and sometimes it causes paralysis. I didn’t do much of anything yesterday other than do some dishes and just mindlessly watch political commentary or old sports highlights or history videos while paging through a non-fiction history (The Fall of the Dynasties, to be exact). I did watch the I Want My MTV documentary–the cultural impact of MTV in the 1980s cannot ever be overestimated–which was kind of fun and had me remembering the early days of it and how we were all addicted to it back then.

One of the few bright spots of this year so far has been the enormous reception to Heated Rivalry, and how its two young stars–Connor Storie and Hudson Williams–have become global superstars in a matter of weeks. I was happy to see they got to carry the Olympic torch in Italy, which was incredibly cool for them. I wish them nothing but the best, and I have to say that I am absolutely delighted for them both, for the show, and the representation. Can we also drop the “but it was written by a woman!” nonsense? Regardless of the politics of who writes who and what is or isn’t cultural appropriation and so forth–which is far too nuanced to be discussed in 120 characters or whatever the fuck the limit is on those Twitter-style social media apps–can’t we just enjoy the fact that a show about two men falling in love is the hottest thing on the planet right now? Can we stop being concerned about straight people watching and their opinions, and whether or not they’re pandering for views or clicks?

I would like to take a moment to remind everyone that the biggest selling gay novel of the modern post-Stonewall era was The Front Runner by Patricia Nell Warren? I knew Patricia very well, and I can assure you that she was definitely not a man.

Heavy sigh.

And on that note, it’s off to the spice mines with me for the day. Wish me luck on the day–who knows what it will bring in its wake. I’ll be back tomorrow, though. No worries!

Imperial Hotel

Sunday morning! It’s seventy degrees outside this morning, with the cold front not quite here yet; it’s going to start raining soon (per the forecast) which is part of the front’s arrival, along with shockingly low temperatures later on today. It looks very gray outside, the ground is wet, and I am incredibly happy I don’t have to leave the apartment today other than to take the recycling out, which I should do right now before the rain gets here. Hang on, I’ll be right back.

Okay, I’m back. My legs are strangely tired and a bit sore this morning–the Achilles tendons in particular again–so I think when I finish this I might do some stretching, which I should start doing regularly again. I never really had to when I was younger–being naturally freakishly flexible meant I didn’t need to, but it was bad to never develop a regular stretching routine. I wonder, if now that my anxiety is under control, maybe the gym won’t be such an anxious experience for me. I’d conquered gym fear back in 1995, but after so long away from it I always had that anxiety whenever I would go back and try to get done as quickly as possible. I am going to return after Carnival and hopefully stick to it; I definitely need more stamina, and I’d like to shave off some extra weight (but without the assistance of the damned ulcerative colitis, of course). I know I’ll feel better the stronger and healthier I get, too.

Yesterday was definitely a day of odd energy. I got up a little later than I should have, and wasn’t as motivated as I had hoped. I would be. I think it was partly the oncoming storm on the horizon that was unsettling? I did run some errands (seven boxes of books to the library sale) and had some things delivered. I also braved the grocery store the day before a horrible winter storm descends upon us here in southeastern Louisiana. It was pretty hectic and crowded, and the check out lines were lengthy. But they were checking people out with a high degree of efficiency (for once), so it didn’t take nearly as long as I had feared it might. It was a very gray day, too–it was just gray and windy and chilly. I got home and unloaded the car and put everything away and relaxed for a bit. Sparky curled up in my lap and I spent some time catching up on the latest horrors from the current administration of fascists and liars and murderers. I also spent some time rereading one of my favorite books of history–Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror. We also watched the first three episodes of Ryan Murphy’s latest pretty production of a disjointed narrative, The Beauty.

In all honesty, I am not sure what to think. of The Beauty. It could easily have just been another season of American Horror Story rather than a stand-alone series. I also could do without child sexual abuse supporter and a friend of Diddy who regularly attended the “freak-offs” on my television screen. I’ll watch, but we’re not giving Ashton Kutcher a redemption arc, thank you very much. I’ve also not seen his ex-wife’s The Substance, but there seem to be an awful lot of similarities between the two. There’s a lot of things that could be said about our American obsession with youth and beauty, but I seriously doubt we’re going to get it from a Ryan Murphy show. It’s also my thought that the show will go off the rails and stop making sense, the way so many of the Ryan Murphy seasons do, before long. One day I may be able to break my hate-watching need for Ryan Murphy’s deeply flawed productions, but we aren’t there yet. After we caught up on it, we switched to the Australian Open and watched that until it was time for bed. I also made dinner last night, so the kitchen is a bit messy this morning. I do think, though, that once I finish and post this I may go read for a bit before getting cleaned up and getting the house under control yet again.

And yes, we’ve had another murder of an American citizen–a male nurse, at that–in Minneapolis by the tax-payer funded Noem thugs. She, and the rest of them, all lied about it, of course; which she should be civilly liable for; I do think the victims’ families should be able to file wrongful death suits against Noem, Homeland Security, and this administration. So glad y’all couldn’t bring yourself to vote for the highly qualified Black woman because you didn’t believe she worked at McDonalds and had a stranger laugh you didn’t like. Fuck you all, now and forever. There can be no forgiveness without atonement and genuine remorse. I’ll probably carry that grudge to the grave. Have fun in church today, Pharisees.

It’s funny, because one thing I’ve been researching for a future book is the 1970s and its pop culture, which is fun and interesting–although the clothes and hairstyles can be safely left to the past and memory. But one of the biggest things I can remember in the 1970s was the Bicentennial; many now aren’t old enough to remember that. I’ll probably write an essay for the newsletter about the Bicentennial at some point. Remembering what a huge fuss was made for the Bicentennial makes it kind of surprising that no one seems to give a shit that the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence is this July 4th. Kind of ironic that it was written as a result of years of authoritarian British colonial rule and justice…while on a major anniversary of the signing we have elected our own authoritarians and tyrant to abuse our freedoms and liberties. The way they can bald-faced lie despite the overwhelming video evidence that proves they lie about everything and anything.

The lengths they will go to in order to distract from the Epstein files is pretty telling, isn’t it? It’s worse for them for the epstein files to come out than shooting American citizens dead in the streets.

That’s a pretty big fucking tell, isn’t it?

Well, the rain has arrived and it’s very dark now, so I am going to repair to my easy chair and my coffee and read some more Ken Holt and Eli Cranor. Stay safe and warm wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning. Thanks for stopping by!

enchanted

And here we are on another work-at-home Friday, after an odd week. Monday was a holiday, and of course I took Wednesday off, so this has been an odd week. I kept thinking yesterday was Monday, for one thing, which was weird–I felt rested and motivated for most of the day, which was a good thing. I was also very efficient, getting everything done that needed to be done, and of course, I have work at home duties to get done. I slept well again and got up earlier than usual, so I feel good this morning, too. Might I actually get some things done this weekend? Remains to be seen. There’s a cold front coming in over the weekend, with temperatures dipping down into the freezing range on Sunday. We’re not supposed to get snow and ice, but….one never can be certain, can one? I did get some chores done last night, too, so I am already ahead on the weekend. All the dishes are clean, so all I need to work on is pruning the books some more and the floors. Huzzah! I should have time to get some writing done as well as some other cleaning and organizing, and reading, too. Well, we’ll see, at any rate; I reserve the right to be lazy this weekend.

I get all sorts of emails trying to sell me ebooks on sale for either $1.99 or $2.99, and usually I’ll get things that I’ve already read, or something I meant to read all along yet never obtained a copy. Yesterday, the ebook I impulsively bought was Thus Was Adonis Murdered by Sarah Caudwell.1 I have a mass market paperback copy I bought any number of years ago, and I cannot remember who recommended it to me, or why they did; but I now have it in physical and ethereal form, so maybe I’ll get around to reading it this year. Maybe I’ll get around to reading something, anything, this year.

I was delighted to see Sinners get so many Oscar nominations, setting a new record for most with 16. I personally loved the movie, thought it was incredibly well made, written, and acted, and am really happy the Academy seems to be getting past its issues with horror cinema (Frankenstein also got a lot of nominations, and I still want to see it). Maybe this weekend I can carve out some time for a rewatch of Sinners, as well as Frankenstein and my rewatch of The Mummy.2 I always have so much to do, and being overwhelmed by it and getting none of it done is a long-standing issue in my life. I think I am nervous about working on Chlorine, and that is effectively blocking me from getting other things done along the way, too. Obviously, the answer to that dilemma is idiot, so start working on it–it can always be fixed. I don’t know why I can’t get past the fear of writing stuff I may not be able to use, but here we are, you know?

I still haven’t watched the final season of Stranger Things, and honestly, can’t drum up much interest in my mind to even consider watching. I don’t remember much, if anything, of the previous season…which is probably part of the problem. We also lost interest in Welcome to Derry, too. I think watching Derry and not getting into it has something to do with my lack of interest in finishing Stranger Things. The show started out as an homage to Stephen King and the 1980s, which made it a lot of fun for me those first few seasons…but if anything, It was kind of the blueprint for Stranger Things, and as a fan of It, there was a lot of issues in my mind with continuing with Derry–and having started Derry, I think the similarities is the mind block for me.

I got my twenty-one year pin this week at work, which was yet another damn you’re old moment for me. I’ve worked there now for nearly a third of my life (my previous record for a job was five years) and a lot has changed since I went to work part-time at the CAN office of the NO/AIDS Task Force twenty-one years ago–not just for me and the world, but in HIV testing, treatment, and care. Twenty-one years ago we hadn’t reached the ability to achieve undetectable viral loads (making you non-infectious) and PrEP (to prohibit new infections).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you again tomorrow morning. Till then, arrivederci!

Screenshot
  1. And yes, it bothers me that I cannot remember why it was recommended to me. I guess it doesn’t matter. ↩︎
  2. I love the Brendan Fraser/Rachel Weisz movies so much–but I can’t remember which movie is which! It will be part of my newsletter’s Egypt series. ↩︎

Foreplay/Long Time

Work at home Friday has rolled around again, and this time it precedes yet another three day weekend. I was tired yesterday, not being used to getting up at six for four days in a row again. I made some groceries on the way home from work, did some chores when I got home, and then slid into my easy chair with Sparky for some cuddles and catching up on the news. I also had no idea how tired I actually was until I got home; Sparky curled up in my lap, purring, and by seven thirty I was sound asleep in my easy chair! I woke up groggy after eight and said fuck it and went to bed. I slept like the dead, and didn’t get up until about eight this morning. I still am achy in places–the hips and Achilles tendons, of all things–and not feeling particularly energetic this morning, either, and Sparky is being no help this morning at all. I have a meeting this morning, and I have lots of laundry to do, in addition to some work-at-home duties I need to get caught up on. We weren’t terribly busy yesterday–not as busy as we were scheduled to be, and I had to train someone, too–but we were busy enough. I did get a lot of stuff at the office caught up, which might very well be why I was so tired and sleepy last night (fatigue is different, in that it doesn’t involve feeling sleepy; I used to get so tired and exhausted I couldn’t do anything but was wide awake, which was torturous). Today I also have errands to run, but the temperature is going to be in the low seventies again (with a cold front striking over the weekend–slight chance of snow again Sunday morning), which will make it ever so much better to do.

And it’s a three day weekend, which is even more marvelous.

I do have a lot I need to get working on this glorious weekend. I want to do some more work on the apartment done, clean out some books to take to the library sale this weekend, and of course, I need to read and write this weekend. I also would like to do some seriously deep cleaning with the files and so forth–getting rid of things I no longer need. I don’t need to hoard ideas any more. I am never going to write every story, novel or essay idea I have, and I have more and more ideas all the time. I went ahead and ordered some groceries for delivery–it is absolutely eerie how expensive things are now, and how easily you get to over $100 in no time–while knowing you used to get three times that amount of things for that amount. $100 used to fill the hatch of my car. Now I can get it into the house with one trip with the wagon. So glad everyone voted for lower prices. Funny how they stopped complaining about prices once 1/20 rolled around while everything gets more expensive by the week. (It was always about the competent Black woman, let’s make no mistake there.)

I also love all the MAGAts posting their support of the occupation of Minneapolis and the Gestapo, and have to wonder, how would they feel if this was happening in their home town? If one of their neighboring moms got shot in the face three times by a murderous thug who shouldn’t be allowed to own a gun, let alone use one. Nothing ever matters to them unless it affects them personally, and their inability to even consider a different point of view (because they are incapable of logical thinking) is yet another reason why this country is now an autocracy with some remnants of the old system hanging on for dear life while bending the knee to the dictator. Democratic leadership is sadly too milquetoast to effectively clean house with the corporatists and centrists who are basically MAGA-lite and only beholden to their donors and not their constituents. When they gave party leadership back to Schumer and Jeffries after the last election I knew we were doomed, because neither is competent or intelligent enough to stand up for their base and apparently think it is still 1975. If Schumer and Jeffries led the party in the 1970s, Nixon would have finished his second term. I am sick to death of wimps who are afraid Fox News is going to look at them cross-eyed. The nation is crying out for them to do something other than being masters of the strongly worded letter.

We don’t need Karens asking for the manager. Where is our JFK, FDR, or even Ted Kennedy? Instead we’ve got Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries, two incompetent losers who will be judged very harshly by the base. I hope to God someone primaries Schumer so we can be finally rid of that loser who couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag that is already torn. Minneapolis and everything that happens there is also on the Democratic Party leadership. I lived in Minneapolis (for eight months)in 1996 before I moved to New Orleans, and it’s very upsetting to see what’s happening there. I have friends there I worry about on the daily.

And yet we still have elected Democrats backing ICE.

Quislings, every last one of them. Every one of them who voted to confirm Kristi Noem should be asked every day how they intend to make up for that to their base, because that is disqualifying for office. So, by all means, ask me for more money. You won’t get it, but I appreciate the laugh every time I get a fundraising email to back them in their “fight” and treating us all like marks at a pro wrestling match. Like we can’t see how little they are doing and how ineffectual what little they do is?

Sigh.

And I am going to head into the spice mines now after this grim post. Have a lovely weekend, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

Let Me Take You Home Tonight

Thursday morning of my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! Busy day, busy week, three day weekend, pruning books and working on the apartment and being writerly productive as well; I think I am procrastinating out of a fear of failure, which is part of the anxiety but stealth anxiety–a mental thing created by years of anxiety and almost constant stress. I hate when that happens. We’re also about to be hit by another cold front this weekend, with even a slight possibility of snow on Sunday morning. (!!!!) I am looking forward to another long weekend, although there won’t be another for awhile. I slept well last night, too. I am feeling a bit physically tired, but that’s no surprise since I haven’t gotten up at six for four days in a row since last month, I think. Who knows? I also am taking this coming Wednesday off, for a friend’s funeral, so next week is even lighter than usual. Ah, well.

We were busy yesterday in the clinic (this week has really been insanely busy; today too), and so I was a bit on the tired side when I got home last night after a couple of errands. Sparky and I hung out for a while, but I also got up and did some chores, too. I watched the first part of the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City reunion before going to bed–maybe that was why I slept so well? Hee hee, I doubt it; I should have had nightmares about women screaming at each other instead, but here we are. I don’t really remember much of it, so I may have to watch it again.

I’ve really been missing my friend Victoria lately. Victoria was always my go-to for the last almost thirty years for political conversations; she also loved history and studied it more than I do–she always got my references, and I always got hers, which was awesome and enjoyable as we complained about the state of the world and all its insanities. Every time something horrific happens (on the daily, really) I am tempted to email her before I remember that she’s gone, and that little pang comes back. I can only imagine the fiery pieces she would have written about Renee Good’s government sanctioned and approved murder. But on the other hand, I’m kind of glad she was too ill at the end to see what was going on in the country and she passed before it got worse…I’m kind of glad she didn’t live to see what the country she loved so much has become…ironically, after everything she’d seen and reported on, I was the cynical one of the two of us…we also used to say that evangelicals worshipped Republican Armani Jesus (RAJ) and their mentality was IOIYR–“it’s okay if you’re Republican.”

Damn, I miss her.

Another writer friend–Chris Muncie–died earlier this week, too; I hadn’t talked to Chris in well over a decade, but we co-edited an erotica anthology together and he also published some of my short fiction in his anthologies, and vice versa. I hate getting to the age where you start losing friends and family. Granted, I went through this before–thanks again, Ronald Reagan!–with HIV/AIDS, and maybe I was thinking in my subconscious that since I’d already seen so much death and experienced so much grief when I was younger that I wouldn’t have to go through it again as I aged? And maybe my present day grieving is colored by PTSD from my twenties and thirties? Back then, we just were so beaten down by all the death that, at least for me, I went numb inside and didn’t really feel anything for a long time. I probably should go back to therapy, shouldn’t I?

Heavy heaving sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you tomorrow on Work-at-Home Friday! And may everyone in Minneapolis stay safe, okay?

Sometimes tree branch clearance is a close call for floats!

Peace of Mind

Monday morning and back to the office with me, after am over-all pleasant weekend around here, despite the insanity of everything happening, not just in this country but everywhere around the world–or so it seems. It’s so hard to keep up with the shit in this country to try to keep seeing what’s going on everywhere else, like Ukraine, Sudan, Gaza, and on and on and on. Venezuela is a complete anarchic mess now (I’m seeing reports that gangs are hunting Americans; unconfirmed), the not-so-secret military police body count is on the rise, and every last one of us is unsafe in this country. How are we supposed to go about our daily business and routine like nothing is going on? Write books? Do data entry? And there’s always this sense that looking away from the shit-show that is currently the country is somehow, I don’t know, not helping? I don’t know. Heavy heaving sigh.

And yet…

The grind never lets up, does it? Bills and jobs don’t pause for fascism, alas; the world keeps turning and if I want to eat and have shelter, I have to go to work and make money. Even doing this blog (and my newsletter) and thinking about promoting my book (which drops on 2-10; preorders from your preferred bookseller are always appreciated, by the way) seem frivolous, out of touch, and in poor taste somehow. And yet…we have to keep going somehow, as the Constitution burns and the American experiment in self-rule continues its pitiful and oh-so-tragic decline into fascism. Talking about work, talking about writing, watching television and movies and so on make me feel like Sally in Cabaret–ignoring what is happening around us while focusing on my own needs and career and…I don’t know.

It does seem, though, that we need to find joy in these times wherever we can find it–even if it feels tone-deaf.

It’s cold this morning–forty degrees–and am very glad I turned the heat on before bed last night. I can feel the cold floor through my slippers! But I am enjoying my coffee this morning and I do have to make some groceries after work tonight. On my to-do list is to update my to-do list; I even bought a specific notebook for that purpose (shades of Meg Langslow’s “notebook-that-tells-me-when-to-breathe”)–it’s one of those silly ones that has shit I have to write down because I’m old on the cover. This weekend is yet another three-day one; and then it’s almost parade season and then it’s March. This time of year always flies around here. Suddenly it’s April and hot and you can’t stop wondering where the first part of the year went…and so it goes, right?

We started watching Harlan Coben’s new show, Run Away, last night and got sucked in almost immediately. We burned through the first three episodes, and it’s super nice to get involved in another show again. It’s been a hot minute since we’ve watched anything, and yesterday was, overall, a pretty good day. I felt more motivated than I had all weekend, and got some things done before Paul and I settled in for the evening with dinner and the show. The kitchen is a mess this morning, so when I get home tonight I am going to have to put the groceries away and unload the dishwasher so I can fill it up again. Woo-hoo! I think there’s another load of laundry, too. The chores never end, do they?

And I did make some more notes on the new book yesterday; I think I am actually going to go ahead and start writing it from the beginning this week. I am kind of excited and not feeling any trepidation yet? I’ll be sweating (and swearing) about it soon enough, I am sure.

And now I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, remember to stay centered and focused and determined, and we’ll make it through another day. See you in the morning!

Screenshot

More Than a Feeling

Sunday morning after yet another low energy Saturday. I slept late again and did next to nothing yesterday, other than a couple of errands (more on that later) and a load of laundry. I spent most of yesterday hanging out with Paul and Sparky and watching television; there was a gymnastics meet that LSU competed in as well as the figure skating finals for men’s and ice dance. That was my entire day, really, and I also was lazy enough to let everything slide, so I have a messy kitchen and living room to deal with this morning. I didn’t read, and we didn’t watch much of anything else other than some news and other clips on Youtube between the gymnastics and figure skating. I do feel more rested today, which is a plus, and I slept late again this morning, too. No worries, I decided yesterday that regretting sleeping longer than usual is counter-productive. I need to rest, and it’s not laziness if you want to sleep later. One thing I need to unpack and process and get over this year is the fear of being thought lazy–and you’re not lazy if you’re not doing something productive every minute and second of every single day. (Thanks, Mom!)

I have no idea what today is going to be like and I am not really making definitive plans for the day. I do need to update my to-do list, make a grocery list, pay some bills, and I do need to do something about the kitchen/living room. I did notice the other day that the barricades for St. Charles’ Carnival Slalom Course are already out on the neutral grounds on the Avenue, which is going to be fun driving down on my way home from work during the parade weeks as I rush to get home before they close the Avenue off, sealing those of us who live in the Box off from the rest of the city. I forgot to bring home boxes from work to pack up more books for the library sale, having finally reached the acceptance phase of knowing I’ll never read all the books I have on hand and should give someone else the opportunity to read them. I paid for them already, after all, so the authors have gotten a royalty from me so why not let someone else have them, right? Books aren’t for decor, they are to be read and enjoyed and shared, and I no longer need to have books stuffed on every available surface and into cabinets and the attic and so forth, to feel comfort. I always used to be afraid I’d run out of something to read and so always needed a big TBR pile. I don’t need that anymore, and I will never run out of things to read so long as I have my iPad.

I also don’t have the anxiety that drove the book hoarding anymore, either.

I see that the Virulently Anti-Black Queens offered a non-apology yesterday that went over almost as well as their racism and misogyny did in the first place. I believe people when they show me who they are the first time, thanks. I also loved seeing gay white men telling Black people on social media what is and isn’t racism. Way to beat the allegations that we’re racists, guys. It also pisses me off because I always want to support queer people and their art, but I can’t be supportive of problematic gay men, especially when they target Black people for disdain and contempt that is clearly rooted in white supremacy–there are plenty of white gay men who think because they’re marginalized they can’t be racist. Au contraire, mon frere–being marginalized yourself doesn’t mean you can marginalize and belittle others because you’re white or have proximity to whiteness. Do better, people. I’m not perfect and make mistakes all the fucking time–but I also try to take responsibility for my words, and learn. We all have to unpack things we learned and absorbed from the culture and society we were raised in–those things aren’t our fault entirely, but not unpacking them and clearing them out of our psyches IS.

It’s not really that hard to look at other demographics through a lens of humanity first, and it really shouldn’t be that difficult for all of us to be more empathetic and to call out dehumanizing behavior and language.

When I picked up the mail yesterday, my box o’books for Hurricane Season Hustle had arrived. And while it’s always a thrill to get said author copies–that never gets old–I did have a bit of a pang, thinking Yay! followed by Christ, where am I going to keep these? That was a new reaction, and probably due to not having the anxiety anymore and being more pragmatic about the book hoarding. The kitchen was too messy to take a picture of the box o’books to post the way I always do; so I’ll have to get some work done on the room before I can unpack the box and do my usual routine with the books.

And on that note, the kitchen isn’t going to clean itself and Sparky wants my desk chair for his morning nap, so…I am going to close this and head into the spice mines, whether I want to or not. Enjoy your Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning before work.

Jackson

Tis Saturday here in the Lost Apartment, and all through the house, only Greg is stirring now that Sparky’s been fed. I stayed up late doing the laundry, so am off to a late start this morning but that’s okay. I feel good this morning–I was kind of low energy yesterday, so after work and the Costco adventure I was pretty done in. I wound up watching the Oregon-Indiana game (more on that later), and then we watched the figure skating. Some incredible performances by the ladies! I fell asleep in my chair but also wound up not going to bed until after midnight, which I also did Thursday night and needs to stop. I’ll set my alarm for tomorrow morning; this needs to stop so I can be productive!

It barely sprinkled yesterday, in spite of the constant weather alert warnings I was getting in my inbox all day Thursday and yesterday morning. FLOOD WATCH! TORNADOES! And then it was sunny and over seventy all day. It did just start raining, though. I have a couple of errands to do this morning, but I might wait a bit until the rain passes….and read in my chair under my blanket. That would be cozy and lovely, wouldn’t it? It certainly sounds good, at any rate. I’ve already gotten cleaned up because I was groggy and needed to wake up, so I am already ahead of the game. I love rain so much. If it was raining when I woke up, I’d probably still be in bed with Sparky and listening to its patter on the roof… and seeing the stream the walk always turns into outside my windows this morning is soothing.

This has been a no-good horrible week, hasn’t it? This is part of the reason why I wasn’t willing to get super excited about the fresh start a new year brings with it. None of that “goodbye to a horrible year yay for a new one” bullshit for me, thank you very much, having been burned before too many times to think a calendar reset means anything to thugs, fascists, Nazis, and traitors. It’s been a hell of a year so far, hasn’t it? And now that the Gestapo reboot has permission and cover from the administration, Fox, Newsmax, and all the rest to kill Americans pretty much minding their own business. The lies and the spin has been unreal–but those who listen to, accept, and regurgitate those talking points are not the majority. Currently, Kristi Noem is harboring a fugitive from justice; funny how all those states’ rights Republicans only think red states can defy the government.

Are we great again yet? Tired of all this winning?

And then there was the “pick me gay” debacle that blew up yesterday with Bowen Yang and Matt Rogers. I sort of liked Bowen Yang (I do not watch SNL) and was on the fence with Matt Rogers. I wasn’t sure what to make of him, in all honesty. I mean, he was cute enough and was built well, but I didn’t have an opinion on him one way or the other until this week. But…this podcast telling people not to donate to Jasmine Crockett because of…well, reasons that sound pretty fucking racist and misogynistic to me? That was not it. At the very best, they sounded deeply out of touch, uneducated on the subject, and probably should have kept their mouths shut rather than coming for Ms. Crockett. I’m not saying they don’t have a right to their opinions, but they also have a right to consequences, and it’s not really smart to go after a politician whose base is the exact same base as your audience. I will never understand the mentality of leaning into what privilege you do have when you’re underprivileged. Yes, yes, you are white (or white-adjacent) men, so by all means go after a Black woman who is doing good in the world because you’re tragically uninformed. Were they honestly so ignorant to think Black women would agree with them? Has their minor celebrity really given them such unearned arrogance? I don’t know what will happen with them–will they learn from this and reflect and do better, or are they going to double down? Sadly, so far it seems that they’ve decided to go the double-down path, at least so far.

I will say I am very happy, though, to see them being critiqued in a non-homophobic way1 (although I am sure there is some of that out there I’ve not seen), so in a way this is sort of progress? I do think there is a tendency (just observational, not trying to be reductive) amongst gay men to think our marginalization is a shield that somehow allows us to be problematic? I also think marginalized people tend to only think about their demographic’s oppression, not understanding that we’re all just branches on the same tree coming from a common root–the patriarchy. They win because they divide us, and because some of us are so desperate for acknowledgment and recognition from the societal mainstream that we accept, and will turn on others, for crumbs.

It’s so disappointing. It’s so much harder to find success in entertainment as a marginalized person, only to use it to be a shit.

And that “mainstream acceptance”? Never permanent. They’ll just take a longer time getting around to you, but they will eventually. WAKE UP PEOPLE.

Then again, if you’re here and reading this, you’re already pretty awake.

Ah, the rain has stopped, so it’s time for me to get moving on the day. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

The gay fantasy of how gym showers work…
  1. I did see one Black woman activist dragging them for filth (the entire thing was epic) and she closed with perhaps the most classic read of two gay men I’ve ever heard; one that was worthy of the Read Hall of Fame, and one that showed she knew exactly who those two were. ↩︎