Category: Politics

Little Paradise

Tuesday morning and so far, so good. I had no problem getting up and going to work yesterday morning, and I made some groceries on the way home last night. Today I am leaving early from the office to go record Susan Larson’s show for local NPR (YAY! Love Susan!) and later on I am seeing my gastroenterologist for the yearly follow up on the ulcerative colitis, which is why I had so many labs to get drawn over the last few weeks. I don’t think I’ll have to see him again for six months or so; who knows? I guess we’ll see how it goes.

Yesterday wasn’t bad, by any means. I am mostly caught up on my work–always a lovely feeling at the day job–and I got some emails answered; emails always beget emails, alas. I correspond regularly with two friends and my dad, so it’s not like I have a lot to answer anymore these days. (I remember waking up to over 300 new emails in my inbox; something I do not miss the remotest bit.) Now I think back to how busy I used to be and think, I didn’t need to ever be that busy, and it’s true. I didn’t. No regrets though, I worked very hard but I also had a lot of fun. I couldn’t possibly ever be that busy again; maybe, I don’t know, but I also don’t want to find out, either. I like getting up and going to work, not dreading checking my emails, I like writing my blog and my newsletter (it’s right here, if you’re so inclined; it’s about the International Male Catalogue), I like running my errands, and I like having time to rest and recharge whenever I need to. It’s kind of nice, actually. And the primary issue I’ve had with the day job this decade is being tired in the mornings and being exhausted by the end of the day…which doesn’t really seem to be a problem anymore. Physically and mentally I feel better than I have in years; it’s almost like I’d forgotten how that felt.

It had been a hot minute, for real.

After getting home last night, Paul and I watched some more of The Boroughs, after which we watched videos of President Harkonnen1 getting royally booed in New York at the Knicks game–good. The Boroughs is interesting; something different I’ve not seen in horror media before. I like that the cast is all mostly older, and it’s focused on a retirement community–the one from HELL. We’ll finish that tonight after I get home from everything and all the running around I have to do today. Heavy sigh. I need to have some things delivered tonight, too. I really need to get more organized, always a struggle under the best of times and the best of situations. I have a sink full of dishes I need to get into the dishwasher tonight, and of course, the floors always need attention. So does the refrigerator, frankly. I definitely need to just do chores when I get home from my appointment today before I do anything else; definitely something that I need to get done. I also looked over some of the writing I got done over the weekend and simply couldn’t be more pleased, frankly. I really like the work I am doing now, and I don’t know that I’ve ever said or felt that way before?

Thank you, medication.

Apparently, the Mormons are learning what I could have told them all along–Republicans and evangelicals are not your friends no matter how much money you give them or how many times you vote for them. The Catholics are next, of course–although the fact MAGA demands they put their faith in Lord Harkonnen rather than the Pope should have tipped them off. I always knew they were cosplay Christians, but even I didn’t expect them to embrace apostasy and blasphemy so publicly. Where’s the Inquisition when you need it?

Seriously.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a fabulous Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you tomorrow.

It just ain’t the rural south unless there’s a car from the 1950‘s rusting in a field. I actually wrote a short story about one a million years ago; I wonder where that is? They make great story prompts.
  1. A Dune reference, for those who didn’t catch it. Baron Harkonnen is the revolting villain of Dune. ↩︎

Never Wanna Leave You

Thursday morning coming in strong, how are you doing? Yesterday was kind of drab and overcast and rainy, which was terrific–you know I love me some rain–and a huge relief after how thick and awful the humidity was when I left for the office yesterday morning. That also explains the sinus attack I had when I got up–I had to take a Claritin-D, it was so bad–but I could tell by the time I got to the office it was going to rain. I didn’t get any “flood watch” texts or emails, so it wasn’t too bad. We’re supposed to get a lot more rain today and tomorrow, with it clearing up a bit on the weekend. It’s rained a lot here this late spring, and I can’t remember the last time we had such a wet May and June. I love it, of course–I really do want it to rain all day Friday so after I finish my work-at-home chores I can read under a blanket while it storms outside. I did some chores last night when I got home from work, and felt pretty good. Paul and I watched some television–we started Sweetpea, which is delightfully wicked and twisted in a deliciously macabre kind of way–and then it was time for bed.

I feel good this morning, and I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home yesterday, which was most definitely a good thing. I think not only am I getting close to being back to what would be considered normal, health-wise, again for the first time in years but maybe I’m finally getting used to getting up at six in the morning every day, which would be lovely. It’s lovely not to feel tired when I am working with a client, it’s lovely to think oh, I have the energy to get some things done tonight on the way home from work, but i also have to get used to the idea that just because Paul is on the couch watching television doesn’t mean I have to join him, but it’s lovely to have time together just watching our shows or finding new ones. I hate when I am a Festival widow, because there’s nothing I enjoy more than just hanging out with Paul and Sparky while relaxing. (If it’s raining outside? Chef’s kiss! We are getting a lot of rain lately; I’m starting to see social media posts about locals being tired of the rain, so…)

I did write a newsletter that is scheduled to go out today for Pride Month; about the missing queer bookstores and how much I used to love them, and how good they were to me as an author. This was actually inspired by seeing a post on Tampa Bay LGBT History’s Facebook page about Tomes and Treasures, mentioning the guy who owned it, whom I actually met at the store (it was the first gay bookstore I ever entered) and how that store opened up my life to the vastness that was gay fiction and non-fiction, as well as all the other colors of the rainbow). As I am someone who has always learned best by reading (which is why I always sucked at math), books helped me get a better understanding of our history, how much of that is hidden in plain sight (I mean, I knew when reading history books that while they didn’t come right out and say is “oh, this king preferred men”–I knew what the truth of Edward II, Henri III, Frederick the Great, Philippe d’Orleans, and others really was), it was pretty safe to assume any king or emperor or great lord who had male favorites (Henri III’s were called “the mignons”) was actually a queen.

After Tuesday’s elections, I saw one of those “leftist influencers,” (whom I’ve never trusted; for one, he’s a nepo-baby and comes from money) who always gave me a homophobic vibe, dropped the mask entirely, claiming California voters gave into the “homo-fascist agenda” and several other unspeakably vile things–demeaning and degrading an already vilified minority group really isn’t the way to go for a straight white cisgender nepo-baby. It doesn’t take long for their masks to drop, does it? How is this any different from gay men like Keith Edwards who are racists and carrying water for white supremacy and misogyny? (You’re GAY, Keith, they will turn on you once you’ve sold everyone else out.) Well, you can miss me with all of your stans’ excuses and homophobia, Mr. Nepo-Baby. Fuck you. I’m waiting for the girls you date-raped while in your fraternity to come forward–and you know they are there because he’s clearly a pig with a massive ego.

Oh, and Mr. Nepo Baby? You’re not that hot, babe. Bet you’ve got some super-sexy back hair, too.

This is also why I get so angry when I see anyone on the left ready and willing to throw trans people under the bus; because it wasn’t that long ago that the left was willing to throw us ALL under the bus–gay, lesbian, bi, trans etc.

The fact that no one calls it out, ever, is even more sickening and disgusting.

And Nepo-Baby bottom-feeder said this shit during PRIDE MONTH.

Miss me with your excuses and explanations. There is no way that saying “homo-fascist” under ANY circumstance isn’t homophobic.

And I believe people when they show me who they are. Hence my lack of empathy, pity or sympathy for anyone MAGA, or voted MAGA while claiming not to be. You pissed all over my rights to own the libs. Fuck you now, and fuck you forever.

Homophobia will always be unforgivable. I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire in front of me; I’d look for things to stoke the fire.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Thursday be awesome and your month homophobia free. I’ll be back tomorrow, see you then!

I would love to go to Carnival in Venice and wear one of these amazing costumes.

Don’t Let it Show

Sunday morning and I slept in. I also slept well, and no, didn’t want to get up out of bed this morning either–hence me sleeping in later than I’d intended. I was very low energy yesterday, physically and mentally, which I think had everything to do with the crash and relief after the surgery. As I said, since the medication switch (which I seem to never stop talking about) I don’t have the mental anxiety anymore, but my body still reacts to it. I could physically feel the relief once we got home Friday from the surgery, so I shouldn’t be terribly surprised that I am exhausted this weekend. This is yet still another reminder that I need to be kinder to myself about not getting things done, because it inevitably is beyond my control in the first place.

Paul is doing swimmingly. There’s pain, but it’s nothing he can’t handle with some medications, which is to be expected. But he can walk without the walker, and climb/descend the stairs without difficulty. This is an enormous relief, as I have to return to office on Monday and leave him in the capable hands (paws?) of Nurse Sparky, who uses his kitty healing powers on him as much as possible. It’s weird how cats always sense it, isn’t it? Sparky has been glued to Paul for the most part since he got home, although now he’s down here playing while Paul sleeps.

Because of everything we pretty much did very little yesterday. Paul got up earlier than I expected, so I turned the French Open on for him to watch while I tried to do some things. I made some progress on the apartment, but for the most part I wound up in my easy chair watching with him. WE switched over to a rewatch of Celebrity Traitors UK, which is one of my favorites (I told you I was obsessed with the show), before moving on to a new movie on HBO, Miss You Love You, starring Allison Janney and Andrew Rannells, which we really enjoyed, and then started Half Man, which is incredible, and I am still digesting it. It’s the new show from Richard Gadd, of Baby Reindeer fame, and will have more to say about it once I finish the show today and think about it a few days. It’s incredibly done, the writing is exceptional, and the acting is top notch. We binged five episodes last night before calling it an evening.

Today I cannot blow off; I need to do some things today around here and I need to have some things delivered this afternoon. As much as I would love to just sit in my chair and read my book with Sparky in my lap, alas, I have to get some cleaning done and some other stuff as well, and hope to have some time to do some writing and reading around watching television and hanging out with my little family here today while letting my batteries get charged up to capacity again today before I go back to work tomorrow. I also don’t know how long Paul is going to sleep in this morning, either. So I am going to try to do some things and get cleaned up before he wakes; I also need to run the dishwasher again. I did do a load of dishes and caught up on the laundry, so I wasn’t totally idle yesterday.

Not that there’s anything wrong with being idle. Christ, Greg, you don’t have to be doing something every second of every fucking day. Vestiges of the coping mechanisms developed for my anxiety, I suppose.

Okay, I am going to get another cup of coffee and make some toast before I get cleaned up and get some things done around here before taking a reading break. So, have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrrow morning, okay?

In The Heat of the Night

Saturday morning after a very tiring day yesterday. As I mentioned, we got up at four (!!!!) yesterday morning because we had to be at the surgery center in Metairie at 5:45 am. While he was being operated on (I really didn’t need to know about the bone saw), I stayed in his patient room with my iPad (it really does work as a laptop now) and read my book. After everything, we managed to get home by shortly after one. He did fantastic–he always does–and can climb the stairs and pretty much walk normally; he was like this with his hips all those years ago, but it’s also nice to know that getting older hasn’t changed how quickly he recovers from these sort of things. I was exhausted by the time we got home, and he of course had surgery, so we just kind of rested and relaxed for the rest of the day, watching our shows and overall, having a really nice day together at home with Sparky. We finished House of Ashur (which was really picking up at the end; shame it wasn’t renewed), the series finale for Hacks (marvelous) and then watched Scream 7, which we enjoyed; I didn’t pay any attention to the discourse when it was released, so I cannot recall what the “fan base” thought of it, and really don’t care. We had fun watching, and Neve Campbell’s return as Sidney Prescott (“You have to shoot them in the HEAD”) was also a lot of fun. (Which reminds me, I think Adam Cesare has a new Frendo novel, doesn’t he?)

Today is probably going to be another recovery day where I don’t get a lot done, writing wise, because I feel very drained this morning–the emotional fallout from those worrisome days always results in a mental and physical crash the next morning–and so am going to take it easy. I have errands to run later on–not very long, not very much–and I do need to do some chores around here. It really takes so little time for the place to just go to hell, doesn’t it? Heavy sigh, and this comes from oh I’ll do that tomorrow. I never learn, do I? I will always procrastinate when I can, but in fairness, when I get home from work now Sparky is very needy so I have to let him get to feeling secure again by letting him sleep in my lap (he’s much more neurotic than either Skittle or Scooter ever were; he has abandonment issues, clearly) and Paul got home early every night this week, so I went directly from kitty lap to watching television with Paul, and then it’s bedtime. I do have lots to do today, so once I finish this I am going to get cleaned up and get started on the apartment. I also want to write some today, too, and get some reading done as well as those errands. I’ll probably also take it easy for a while as well. I do feel drained of energy more than anything else this morning.

All the release of the surgery/post surgery worry, I imagine. I should have expected it, you know? I always forget these things.

Speaking of Sparky, he’s being very lovey-dovey cuddly this morning. Not sure what that’s about, but I do not mind.

I also woke up earlier than I had intended. I was planning on letting myself sleep in as late as I wanted, but woke up around five thirty, but finally got up at just before seven. At least the French Open is going on, so Paul can entertain himself watching that while I do other things; after he gets up, of course. I think once I finish this I am going to get cleaned up and check my to-do notebook, and then add things to it for today and tomorrow. At the very least, I need to get my next newsletter done; I’d like to have it scheduled to go out tomorrow morning, so I can start with the My Gay Life Pride newsletters for June. LOL, my mind is so muddled right now I can’t really think too clearly or creatively at the moment. But more coffee and some time in my easy chair reading and/or watching the news (I’ve been laughing my ass off at “Shut up you ugly fuck” as well as the Freedom250 implosion) will probably do the trick. I am also looking forward to getting back to reading my book. It is holding my interest, which is always a good thing for a book, but I do have some criticisms of it. Has anyone ever written an essay about gay male Gothic novels? I’d love to study that subject more, as well as to read more in the subgenre–if there are more books of this type even out there.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and head into the spice mines for a bit before getting cleaned up. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and until tomorrow!

The Temple at Dendera. I would love to have a print of this.

If You Think You Know How to Love Me

Somehow, it’s Wednesday again already; a holiday will do that to a week. Yesterday was kind of a nice reintroduction to my work week. It was an easy day at the office, and despite feeling groggy in the morning, I woke up and got things done at the office around my clients. On the way home, I picked up the mail, mailed some books, dropped off another and then made groceries. I wrote for a bit on that story I was rewriting in my journal and I am quite pleased with what I have done thus far. It’s fun again to write, to wrestle with words and images and characters and sentences. It’s nice to remember that I write because I enjoy it; it’s deadlines that turn it into an odious, stressful chore.

Although I do wonder if I need to turn things into odious, stressful chores in order to get them done. Hmmm.

I also managed to send out a new newsletter yesterday, and if you want to read the new newsletter click here. I also wasn’t terribly tired when I got home from work yesterday (hence the productivity); I feel pretty good this morning as well–not even groggy Greggy today. I have a semi-busy day at the office today, but I get to go straight home from work tonight and that will be nice. I need to do a load of laundry and a load of dishes tonight, too. We still don’t know what time Paul’s surgery will be on Friday–they’ll tell him on Thursday–and I don’t know how that day is going to go once I get him home. I worry about his pain management–thank God I have that ice machine!1 It’s kind of ironic that I am again hitting the ground running with writing again, only to have another situation that will need a work-around. Heavy heaving sigh. Here’s hoping the writing continues, regardless of what is going on in my life. But it is nice that I am feeling better and productive again. Even the Achilles tendons have finally stopped again and I can walk normally again, which is also very lovely.

We watched an episode of House of Ashur and Widow’s Bay, both of which are growing on me (I prefer Widow’s Bay; it’s supernatural horror, which is a favorite of mine). I think there’s another episode of Widow’s Bay for tonight, and we may have to begin watching something else tomorrow night, or finish House of Ashur, which is a pale imitation of its predecessors–but there’s so much male skin and full frontal and queer activity and violence the plot is kind of hard to follow. The dialogue seems very stilted, too; I don’t remember it being quite so jarring in the earlier seasons. Maybe at some point I will rewatch the earlier seasons; I do remember Lucy Lawless stealing the show out from under all the sexy barely dressed musclemen. I do love Lucy Lawless.

I’ve also decided to stop blogging about politics. My commentary is not necessary for the discourse; anything I could say has been said better by minds more knowledgeable than mine, and besides, thinking about it is upsetting. I am tired of every day being ruined by the sleaze in Washington and Baton Rouge, and so I am detaching myself to watch from an unemotional distance. Besides, I think I have always been very clear on where I stand politically. I’ve always considered myself an independent progressive, with no ties to any political party unless they are pro-queer equality. Period. And I will never make nice or forgive or welcome blatant homophobes unless they thoroughly recant and work their asses off for queer equality for a minimum of two years. Sane with racists and misogynists, so, no, I won’t be embracing MAGAfugees until I see actual atonement and change.

I feel pretty safe in saying that means I’ll never forgive any of them. Ever.

So don’t ask, unless you want to pull back a nub.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope your day is easy or whatever you want it to be, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning again.

Muscular man leaning against a pole.
Those legs!!!! Although I can’t help but wonder why he was playing basketball barefoot in what looks like abandoned public housing.
  1. As a public service, I’ve decided to share the company’s website. They aren’t inexpensive (insurance paid for mine, they won’t for Paul), but they are so worth it: click here. ↩︎

We Live for Love

Tuesday and it’s back to the office with me today. It was a marvelously relaxing holiday weekend, and I was pleased to read some more, and have ideas and work on writing, even if it was mostly scribbling in my journal. I don’t have a problem with any of it, and yes, I know I should be a little bit more concerned that I didn’t apply fingers to keyboard more than I did this weekend, but fuck it. I get to have free time and get to have down time, don’t I? And if i don’t, that’s not a life I want to live, thank you very much. It rained all day again yesterday, along with a lovely early afternoon thunderstorm. I put on season three of The Traitors for background noise and started reading and thinking and writing again, like I had done on Sunday afternoon. At some point I’ll need to funnel that energy and thought into writing on the keyboard. I also spent some time in the morning diving into the morass that is the news, which was cheery on the Ukraine front but not so much anywhere else. Ah, well.

And so it goes, I guess. The reality is the country has been on the decline for decades, but MAGA certainly accelerated the rush to the inevitable collapse. Who knows what will rise from the ashes? Will it be better or worse? I probably won’t be here to see it, and yes, I am very concerned about the midterms. I won’t alarm anyone with my usual pessimistic forecasts, because sadly I am proven right more often than not. It’s also no fun being Cassandra and not being listened to, either. I always thought she was the most tragic character in the entire story of the Trojan War, and have always wanted to write from her perspective. It would be an interesting exercise—a woman who can see the future but isn’t believed which drives her deeper and deeper into madness which makes each prophecy harder to believe? That is a particular kind of hell, isn’t it?

I wish Madeline Miller would make that her next novel.

It also dawned on me over the course of the weekend that May is almost finished, which means it will be JUNE soon…which is PRIDE MONTH. Should I be that old queen and be gauche, cliché and stereotypical and turn my newsletter into queer stuff all month? Of course, you already know the answer to that, don’t you? And yes, the answer is always yes. I think it’s important, and if queer content bothers the subscribers they wouldn’t be there in the first place. No one is making anyone read it, either. So, bearing Pride rolling up so quickly, I took that into consideration for my next reads, tabling what I had already had on deck, and switching it up a bit. My new-to-me read will be All of Us Murderers, which ticks off several boxes for me in addition to its being a queer read: it’s also a historical Gothic romance; it’s written by a cisgender-identified woman; and it’s also a crime novel. These are all things I want to talk about more in my newsletter, so I can touch on them during the newsletter about this book. I’ve also set aside The Ivy Tree as my next reread for A Queer Kind of Death by George Baxt, which I read decades ago and have an eye to see how it holds up. It’s also historic and was originally published in the 1960s, with a Black gay main character written by a gay white man…which should also prove interesting to revisit and talk about.

I feel good this morning, rested and relaxed and in a decent mood. I did do some writing–by hand–yesterday–in my journal, in which I reworked and rewrote the opening to an in-progress short story. Of course it isn’t one that fits any submissions call I have found recently, which is par for the course, but now that I am in such a period of low productivity I’ve pretty much decided that whatever pops into my head is what I should work on, rather than trying to force something that doesn’t want to be forced, which makes the most sense to me at the moment. My Achilles tendons don’t feel tight anymore, either, which is the biggest win to me of the weekend.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Till then!

The famous bust of Queen Nefertiti, whose name meant “the beautiful one has come.” And yes, it’s in a Berlin museum, and yes, the Germans need to return it because it’s loot.

Right Time of the Night

Up early to get labs drawn this morning, work-at-home Friday. These are for my gastrointestinal specialist doctor, whom I will be seeing in a couple of weeks. It rained most of yesterday and last night; and it’s cloudy and gray with thunderstorms in the forecast for this afternoon. I also got a notice from Entergy that we were having a scheduled power outage this afternoon–weather permitting–and I doubt that is going to happen if there’s such a strong probability of rain. I also appreciate the massive notice they gave us; so glad I went and made groceries last night. It’s probably not going to happen–it’s to replace a circuit breaker, so a thunderstorm is probably not the best time for it, but it’s still kind of annoying. I am debating whether I should buy a bag of ice on the way home from my labs. Ice is cheap, so it’s not really a terrible waste of money. And it certainly can’t hurt. I just need to rearrange things in the freezer. Heavy sigh. And the forecast changed while I was getting the lab work done. Sigh. Looks like we’re going to lose power after all, as the thunderstorms are now forecast for later in the afternoon.

Ah, well. I don’t need power to pick things up or read, do I?

I was planning on finishing Jordan Harper’s A Violent Masterpiece this weekend, but with no power I will probably finish it today. I also want to start my reread of Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree, and am deciding on my next nonfiction–Hollywood history–which will come in handy while writing Chlorine–the Harper, also a Hollywood story, also is inspirational for me. I always find inspiration in reading great writers. I don’t know about other authors, but it’s certainly the case with me. On the other hand, I’ve never really cared much how other authors do their work. Anyway, the two nonfictions I am looking at are L.A. Noir by John Buntin, or Gary Krist’s The Mirage Factory; probably going for the Krist, as I have greatly enjoyed his work before. Baby steps to get there, right? Getting there, slowly but surely.

I managed to get the mail and make groceries (so of course the power will go out for four hours) and made it home intact and not too terribly tired. I did fold the laundry, so that was something, and then pretty much chilled out catching up on the news (eep) until Paul got home. We watched an episode of Spartacus: House of Ashur, which isn’t very good other than gratuitous male skin (including full frontal) and violence–and the intense homoeroticism of men living and training together and fighting each other makes it of pretty high interest to gay men. Kind of like how homoerotic all the gym bros’ posts are, or the whole “alpha male” mythology. Newsflash: we aren’t wolves. Anyway, this mediocrity of plot and story has me wondering if the original series was as good as I remembered, or if it would not hold up today. Maybe I should rewatch at some point? If only I had more time!

I got a credit card bill in my email yesterday, which was kind of indicative of how bad things in the country are. I had used a phone app to use to fill my tank on the way to my uncle’s funeral, to earn some points and unlock a discount for the next time I used it, and the payment was deferred for a month. The bill? $18.09. Insult to injury? I had just filled the tank the night before for $42.09, and I have a high gas mileage car with a small tank. It more than doubled. So, MAGA, tell me, has your economic anxiety lessened? Or was it really just your miserable mediocrity and racism after all? I know what I think. Fuck you all, by the way.

So, Lane Kiffin hired Ed Orgeron as a recruiter and a defensive assistant. Coach O back on the LSU sidelines! Despite his big flameout, he is still very beloved as a native son here, and he did create the greatest college football team of all time. They go back to when they were assistants at USC, and I will always have a soft spot for Coach O.

And some good news, apparently there’s a strong El Niño effect, so hurricane season should be milder this year. Still have to keep an eye out, of course, but maybe our luck will hold for another year.

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

I love these old German castles in the winter, which always makes them look like fairytale castles.

My Maria

Thursday morning and my last day in the office before a glorious three day weekend, which is lovely. It rained overnight–it started raining just as I got home from the office yesterday, and then off and on all night. It even rained a bit this morning while I was washing my face and doing the usual morning ablutions. I’m not even sure what the day’s weather forecast is! Although it would be lovely to have rain all weekend, wouldn’t it? I ran some errands after work on the way home yesterday and had some things delivered last night in the sprinkling, and I even did some chores when I got home before I plopped down into my easy chair with Sparky in my lap for the evening. I felt pretty good all day yesterday (I feel good this morning too–I’m getting used to getting up at six again), and probably could have done some more last night, but I am done berating myself for not getting everything done that I want to anymore. I am going to try to not be overly ambitious this weekend; if I am productive, great; if I just get rested, that’s also fine. I want to finish Jordan Harper’s A Violent Masterpiece, and dip into my reread of The Ivy Tree by Mary Stewart. I also need to get a newsletter ready to go for Saturday; my latest one went out yesterday; click here to read!1

I also have to run make groceries and get the mail uptown before I make it home for the weekend. Tomorrow morning I have to have labs drawn for my GI specialist, and have an online meeting before my quality assurance work. The apartment is a mess, but not nearly as bad as it was going into last weekend–I’ve managed to pretty much keep up with the chores this week, thank God; so tonight when I get home I have laundry to fold and a dishwasher to unload. I also have a recipe for tomato cucumber salad I want to try (it seems silly to have a recipe for salad, doesn’t it), which sounds amazing, and I also want to pick up a watermelon tonight.

After I settled into my easy chair, we finished The Boys and caught this week’s episode of Widow’s Bay, which is really wild; I am enjoying the slow burn, Gothic sensibilities of the show very much. (I’ve been feeling kind of Gothic lately, haven’t I?) I think I’m going to let my imagination and creativity run free and drive what I write for a while; I’ve been trying to force it–to no avail–these past few weeks , and so think it’s time to try something different for a while and see how that goes. As I said the other day, Paul’s going to be recovering for a while this summer which is going to hinder my productivity, but it’s also going to be the hottest, most miserable summer this year. (It’s always awful, I don’t know why I am quibbling about the degree of awful it will be.)

Our moronic governor’s trip to Greenland–where he fled after Louisiana harshly rejected and rebuked his MAGA agenda–went exactly as I thought it would. Why send someone who is resoundingly hated by the electorate that knows him best to try a charm offensive? It went as well as could be expected.

As I was scrolling through Youtube the other day I came across an old song from the 1970s I’d forgotten about–“She’s Tight” by Cheap Trick–and it was just as horribly sexist as it sounds from the title. (I only just now realized “cheap trick” is also a prostitution reference.) What would a man be singing about in a song called “She’s Tight”? Yup, you guessed correctly. There were so many of these horrible sexist songs back in the day–and the odes to jailbait are horrible; the list is far too long to even attempt making one. But the majority are about fucking some underage girl who’s sexy and irresistible to the adult male. Gross, but it was also taken as a matter of course and “how things are.” And don’t get me started on the male teen virgin and the experienced older woman–which was a subgenre of film and novels and songs for most of my life. (This will be explored at some point in the future in a newsletter.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for this rainy gray day in New Orleans. Have good one and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

Lovely Jacob Elordi for Chanel Bleu
  1. I’m really enjoying the newsletter, to be honest with you. ↩︎

When Will I Be Loved

Well, Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around again somehow, and I feel pretty good this morning. I didn’t want to get out of bed–it was so warm and comfy and cozy under the pile o’blankets–but I did and took care of the morning business and had some coffee. Sparky is rambunctious this morning–I had to walk around with him on my shoulders for a bit to get him to calm down a bit. I did do some chores when I got home yesterday, and I need to have some things delivered this evening…and should probably run an errand, too. I also did a little bit of writing last night, which felt great–even as the words came out of me like they were attached to barbed wire. I also realized it’s not going to be that easy to get writing done over the next few months because Paul is having two knee replacements this summer, so I am going to be having to take care of him, too, in the dead miserable heat of summer. Heavy heaving sigh. But…that’s okay. It’s always something, isn’t it?

I’ll survive, won’t I?

I finished watching The Traitors Canada’s third season last night, and it’s one of the best seasons, if not the very best. Now, I am out of Traitors to watch, sigh, until new seasons drop. I don’t know that I’ll watch them as they air or if I’ll wait till they’re all available to binge. We also watched the latest Euphoria, too, before calling it a night and diving headfirst into the bed. I have to have labs drawn Friday morning for my GI specialist (whom I am seeing next month) and I have an on-line team meeting, but I’ll be spending most of the day going over forms and correcting them. And then it’s a holiday weekend!!! Monday is Memorial Day! I am hoping to be either be productive this weekend or to get a lot of rest, one or the other, and I want to take some walks in the mornings before it gets too miserable out there. It’s already eighty-one out there this morning, and it’s still May, for Christ’s sake.

I get hate mail pretty regularly; you can’t be a gay man in 2026 who exists on-line and not get hate mail–whether it’s email or DM’s or tags (this is why I never look at my DM’s and it’s a terrible way to try to reach me because I do not like to read that drek–although some of it can be amusing in its illiteracy, ignorance, and illogic–and it’s not something you ever get used to. It was really bad when I was EVP at MWA (which clearly has a lot of homophobes in its membership), and I would turn off DM’s if I could. Most of the hate email goes to spam now and I don’t see it, but one slipped through the other day, and it was highly amusing. Someone, who really needs to wash his or her ass and legs, decided something–anything–I don’t know what–deserved a written email response, and yes, it made me laugh really hard. You’re coming at me because I am in favor of vaccines? Being called a “pro-vaxxer” isn’t the insult you think it is, inbred imbecile, and here’s hoping you never have to watch a child you love suffer and die because you’re a fucking idiot who doesn’t actually love them, really. You don’t put someone you love at risk of death because you’re incredibly stupid, because clearly, you don’t even know what love is; a cat is a better parent. Chew on that, asswipe, and be glad I didn’t just post a screencap of your email–and I wouldn’t black out your email address, either.

Because these people are stupid enough to use personal or work emails.

Yesterday, despite feeling a bit drained still mentally–physically I was fine–was a good day. It’s always nice to get unexpected money, isn’t it?

Remember last year’s bubble protest in the French Quarter? Sum up: a rich man moved into the Quarter across from a bar with a bubble machine which has been there for decades, if not generations, and decided the bubbles had to go. End result? A mob of people showed up with bubble guns and so forth and buried the Quarter in bubbles…and did it again on the one year anniversary! I love how petty this city is! I fit right in here, seriously.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I’ll be back for my last day in the office for the week blog tomorrow!

She’s Single Again

Tuesday morning and my slice of coffee cake is now crumbs. My coffee is hot and tasty as I sit here, bleary-eyed and not quite awake and alert yet. I do feel rested this morning and physically good, so that’s always a nice start to the day. I did get some chores done after I got home last night, and the kitchen looks kind of nice this morning. Overall, the apartment looks tidier, which is all one can hope for, isn’t it? Sparky curled around my shoulders last night while I was doing the dishes, and then convinced me I needed to provide a lap for him (claiming it was for a moment) and then going into a sound, deep puddle sleep, dead to the world, while I binged some more of The Traitors Canada. Such the life, don’t you think? I am debating whether or not to stop on the way home to make some groceries, but at the same time…well, it can’t hurt, can it? I am ordering lunch today as a treat for myself–I have to bring some extra stuff in this morning to the office, so don’t have a free hand to carry my lunch–and I want to do some chores tonight when I get home as well. If I can just get the dishes out of the way…

I also finished my newsletter on Phyllis A. Whitney’s Listen for the Whisperer, which I really enjoyed rereading. It did remind me of one of my biggest quibbles with her work, and that of her contemporary, Victoria Holt; the heroines don’t really solve the mystery or capture the murderer. They usually find out it’s someone they trusted and only when that person kind of loses it and either captures, or tries to kill her, or both, do they realize the answer to the mysteries swirling around the spectral and spooky manse where the heroine has come to stay and/or live. (Remember, Dark Shadows began with a beautiful young woman taking a train through the foggy Maine night to arrive at a spooky mansion full of secrets.) I think I may revisit my first Victoria Holt (The Secret Woman) or Mary Stewart (The Ivy Tree) next; it’s fun revisiting these classic, if dated, Gothic romantic suspense novels. That newsletter is scheduled to go out tomorrow morning!

In other surprising news, I got money from a class action suit involving Blue Cross/Blue Shield, which was completely unexpected. I get these notices every once in a while about these kinds of legal actions, and usually it results, if I register, in a check of less than two dollars. I usually don’t, because registering takes time and even if it’s just a minute or two, it hardly seems worth it for that small of an amount. So, seeing a payment to my Paypal account for almost two hundred dollars this morning makes me think that maybe, just maybe, I should register for more of these things. I mean, that’ll pay my Entergy bill this month. Not too shabby for found money, was it?

Last night, as I watched Season 3 of The Traitors Canada (season three is the best so far), I was fondly remembering how much I enjoyed dinner and the conversation last Friday night with my friend, and that maybe, just maybe, I should start thinking about extricating myself from this healing cocoon I’ve spun around myself since Mom died–it’s really been kind of non-stop since then–and then just kind of shook my head. Maybe not yet? I’m kind of enjoying focusing on myself and Paul, and just kicking back and enjoying the lack of drama in my life that isn’t coming from the television. Physically, I felt well yesterday, but a little still fried mentally. I started revising a short story yesterday–it didn’t go well–which was enormously frustrating, but it was a rather insincere try and I did kind of give up easily when the words weren’t flowing. It’s a muscle in my brain that I’ve allowed to get slack and flabby from lack of use (kind of like the ones in my body–MUST TAKE WALK THIS WEEKEND); and so it’s naturally not going to rebound immediately, just as the ones in my body don’t anymore. It doesn’t mean I am done with writing for good, it just means I need to get the muscle strong, flexible, and healthy again. The creativity is going very well; I am just having trouble stringing the words and sentences together on the page.

I am also having trouble focusing. Par for the course, really.

And not really very surprising, given that the world is burning to the ground as I type.

I feel pretty decent today–alert and awake–so we’ll see how this day turns out.

And on that note, yep, off to the spice mines with me. See you tomorrow!

Such a pretty young man–and a very nicely shaped ass, too, per the mirror behind him.