Category: reality TV

Sister Honey

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week, and my last free weekend before parades. It’s so weird to think that parades are starting next weekend. Holy shit, right? But a week from tomorrow is the first night of parades, with Alla and Cleopatra, with six on Saturday and three on Sunday before all the true madness really begins the following week. I hope the weather is nice for the parades this year, since this is the first time in years I’m actually feeling like I can enjoy them this season. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand at the corner, but I always seem to forget being old and tired when I am out there and the throws are a-flyin’. I also forget about it being damp and cold, too. Paul and I stood out in the rain one night for Orpheus and had the best time. I slept really well and actually woke up around five, to nap on and off until Sparky became determined to get me up for a feeding. Since I did go to the bathroom when I woke up at five, I saw that he was curled up at my feet in the bed–and when I came back, he cuddled up to my calves. Such a sweet, adorable baby…until he started nipping my fingers so I would get up to feed him.

After I ran my errands in the bitter cold on my way home from work, I came home and just collapsed into my easy chair. Sparky curled up in my lap (after being fed, of course) while I caught up on the day’s horrors–er, news–before turning to the final episode of the finale for Real Housewives of Salt Lake City’s reunion. I’m not really sure there’s any point to these reunions/rehashings of the season–it just gives them all a chance to yell at each other all over again, with a noncommittal resolution that’s seems required by that smug expired twinkie Andy Cohen (at some point I will do a newsletter about the Housewives shows).

The amount of virality that continues with Heated Rivalry and its stars continues to astound and amaze me. It does also please me; I’ve become rather entranced with them myself and feel almost paternally protective of them. I watch reels and videos about them and their journey to international stardom. They all have such adorable personalities, and are all so humble about all this sudden success and fame…and it’s just kind of fun to see, you know?1 And who doesn’t love a rags to riches story? It also amazes me how different Connor Storrie is from the character he played–and I don’t just mean the acting. He looks different. Similar, but different. As Ilya, he doesn’t really use his very expressive face the way he does as himself; so much so that he doesn’t seem like the same person. I feel like physical actors don’t get as much credit as they deserve; I always think of that scene in Superman where Christopher Reeve changes from Clark Kent into Superman but only in posture and physically, and it was extraordinary; he never got the credit he deserved for his acting talent.

Yesterday was an odd one, energy-wise. I wasn’t tired, and I ran my errands on the way home, coming straight home tonight with no stops, might have things delivered if I need anything over the weekend. We had a lot of no-shows yesterday–I think I wound up only seeing two or three people total–so I found myself catching up on a lot of other work that doesn’t involve seeing clients. We’re scheduled heavier than yesterday and I am alone in the clinic yet again…and I have some other things I need to get done today around clients. I feel pretty good this morning, though, and like I’ll be able to get everything under control today. Tonight when I get home I have some chores to do once His Majesty has been fed and gotten enough attention, and then I think I’ll probably catch up on the news before watching this week’s The Beauty. We’re also a bit behind on The Night Manager, too. And of course the Australian Open is on, and the Olympics are also coming up…during parade season!

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

  1. I’m still bitter about Boots being canceled. ↩︎

Nightbird

And it’s back to the office on this odd week of day off, day on alternating since Monday. It’s going to be warm all day–it’s sixty outside right now–before the cold weather returns with a vengeance this weekend. I slept well last night, and as usual, didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. Yesterday was different; going to a memorial service in the middle of the day was certainly something new and unusual and out of the ordinary. I felt emotionally drained after we got back home–it was lovely seeing people I’ve not seen in years, of course–but it also required me to interact socially, which wore me down and out. I watched the second episode of the Salt Lake City reunion, and we got an episode of The Night Manager out of the way, too, before calling it an evening and going to bed early, which is on the agenda for this evening, too. I can come straight home after work–we got the mail yesterday, so I shouldn’t have to leave the apartment all weekend–and hopefully get some chores out of the way, if I’m not terribly tired when I get home. I also have a lot of things to do at work today…so yeah, I might be tired tonight. And so what if I am?

It’s kind of nice not having anxiety anymore.

But I am not achy or tired physically this morning, so I think I am now past the bodily shake-up and shock from the car accident Monday afternoon. That seems like a million years ago now, with the way that time passes so quickly these days. It’s February and Carnival before we know it, and then the Festivals loom on the horizon. This is the best I’ve felt all week in the morning, so I suspect there was some lingering exhaustion from something or another–which is nice; I always worry I’m about to have another UC attack because I sure as hell don’t want to go through another bout of that–although I do wonder how it would be treated now that I am on the medication. Who knows? I am not a doctor nor do I play one on television.

It was a year ago that New Orleans was buried in snow and the entire city shut down for two days. It was delightful, and made me rethink my long-time hatred of snow. It helped that I didn’t have to go outside as work closed for the duration; instead, me and Sparky were nice and toasty warm inside the Lost Apartment, watching television and loving how the city was reacting to this weather weirdness. I kind of wish we’d get snow again, but even with this enormous and dangerous winter storm coming, it’s still a very long shot.

I feel very alert and rested, now that the coffee has started kicking into gear and I’ve had some coffee cake. I got a Hubig’s cream cheese King cake the other day when I made groceries, and it is quite delicious–though there’s not nearly as much cream cheese as they put in the Rouse’s brand ones, which is what I usually get. Yes, I know there are some amazing king cakes to be had in New Orleans, but the store brand has always worked for us and we’ve never been king cake snobs. I do like the more bougie ones, but I only have those when someone brings one in to work, or we go to a party somewhere during the season. My supervisor will occasionally bring some really good ones from Cannata’s Bakery out in Houma, where she lives; they are quite delicious.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday (it feels like Monday, and I feel like I usually do on Mondays), Constant Reader, and I will be back home tomorrow for work-at-home Friday.

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!

Fast Car

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! I am meeting a friend for a drink after work tonight–she’s in from out of town for a few days, which is always exciting, since I adore her–and of course, tomorrow is work-at-home Friday. I didn’t sleep great last night, so I may be a bit tired this afternoon when I get off work, but for right now, I feel pretty okay. My coffee is good, and the kitchen/apartment is still under control, which is always a good thing. I’ve not done any creating this week, which isn’t great, and I probably won’t do any tonight, either.

I am still horrified by what happened yesterday in Minneapolis, and its aftermath. It really is astonishing how the Right will literally lie about everything even when it’s recorded by multiple phones from many different angles that show they are lying. With this blatant example of what this administration is capable of, how can anyone trust anything they say about anything? Of course, the cultists are too far gone–they have to swallow everything they’re told without question, else the realization of their culpability and being so fucking wrong about everything would drive them completely insane. Bigots don’t like having their hideous values exposed or questioned. So far, Mr. Donald the Dove (thanks again for that one, Maureen Dowd, you horrific traitorous bottom-feeding bitch) has invaded Venezuela and is claiming sovereignty over a foreign country he attacked without even notifying Congress (interesting how all the oil company execs knew more about it than Congress). His thugs have now murdered yet again, and are trying to blame the victim. How long before they open fire on a crowd, to the cheers of Murdoch media and the disgusting filth that works at Fox and Newsmax?

Ken Jennings posted on Threads yesterday I’m voting for the candidate who promises to prosecute the former regime at every level. Says it all, really.

I hate living through the decline and fall of the United States. I had hoped to be dead before it happened, but no such luck for me. Ah, well.

After I got home from work last night, I collapsed into my easy chair to watch the season finale of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City–which was excellent–and the final episode of The Cult of the Real Housewife. I have some thoughts about the documentary, but need to think about it some more. The allegations in the documentary were explosive…but there wasn’t any concrete proof, other than some recordings of Mary Cosby preaching? The appearance and commentary from a Youtube influencer who’s made a career gossiping about Bravo shows on-line, whom I used to follow but stopped because…well, because he was kind of racist a couple of times and I was done with him, didn’t help convince me of the veracity of anything that was being alleged. Sure it was juicy, but there was absolutely nothing new that wasn’t already in the discourse when all of this started when she joined the show in the first place. On the other hand, I do enjoy her on the show, and wonder if I’m simply looking to rationalize continuing to enjoy her? I stopped watching New Jersey when a cast member went to federal prison, and I didn’t watch this franchise until its criminal cast member was no longer on the show. I don’t like rewarding horrific behavior, but…again, no charges, no law enforcement charges, nothing. I did keep watching Beverly Hills after the failed golddigger’s husband was arrested, but I am kind of done with it now.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. May you have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I hope you’re safe and sound wherever you may be.

Smoky Mountain Rain

Epiphany! Twelfth Night! Carnival begins! I made groceries on the way home from work last night (we were busy all day), and picked up our first King cake of the season–it may be the last, actually, because Paul was home when I got home from work, and we spent a good portion of the evening getting caught up on everything and making plans. We both want to be healthier this year, and work on getting into better condition. He’s going to start by changing eating habits now; I am going to wait until after Mardi Gras to get started because that will fuck me up with going to the gym and so forth; it always does, and then I can’t get back into it again.

Or maybe I am just delaying working on it because I don’t want to really get started and am procrastinating again. It’s a mystery, as always. (We are interrupting this post to remind Gregalicious that he is not to be self-deprecating or hard on himself in 2026; and this is dangerously close. REBOOT! REBOOT!)

I’ve always loved today’s title song, and one night when I was driving to Kentucky through the Smoky Mountains, it started raining…and I remembered the song and a story popped into my head, about a woman fleeing a crime, heading north on I-75, and stopping at a rest area, where through no fault of her own other than having to pee, pulls into the midst of another crime. I’ve never written the whole story out, either–called it “Smoky Mountain Rest Stop”–but when I was driving up there this last time, one of the problems I had with the unwritten story was security cameras…and there was a rest stop that said NO SECURITY PROVIDED. I made a quick drive through their parking lot and sure enough, no cameras…and I renamed the story “No Security Provided,” which is a MUCH better title1.

I also finished my newsletter review of The Postman Always Rings Twice and got it out of the way; I am working on yet another to send out this weekend (hopefully). I was a little bit done in when I got home last night–not fatigued, but a bit tired–and so never made dinner last night, nor did I do any chores. I got sucked into The Cult of the Real Housewife documentary on HBO, about Mary Cosby from Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. It was…interesting. I still have another episode to go, but am not really sure about it. It’s highly entertaining, and I may have some unconscious bias going on (because I enjoy her on the show), but…I just don’t know. Yes, it is weird she married her grandmother’s widower and had a child with him. But that church is small. How could that fund her extravagant lifestyle, even if it is a cult and they are all giving her every cent of their money and so forth? It seemed like a lot of innuendo without concrete proof of anything; they did use some clips from Bravo, so they had to have permission, right? I’m not sure how that works, but there had to be some cooperation from the network. Curious that no one from Bravo is in it, though–co-stars, Andy Cohen, etc.–other than the clips.

It’s also interesting how many housewives have gotten the documentary treatment. Someday this will all be very fertile ground for a forensic social/cultural anthropologist, or a doctoral thesis: what personality disorders make for good reality television stars? I try not to watch shows that feature (and reward) criminal behavior; and I don’t know that I was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mary Cosby’s church is a cult. Maybe episode three will be more damning? I’m not sure its against the law to be a cult? They usually wind up violating other laws, which is usually their downfall–or they all end up dead.

Not good options, are they?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

I love how the colors of the illuminated stained glass glow in contract to the darkness and shadows

Turtles All The Way Down

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I also only have to work Monday and Tuesday of next week, so I pretty much have a rather lengthy vacation with a two-day work break. Yay! It’ll be nice to relax and recharge and hang out with the boys and make progress on everything, sleep as late as Sparky will let me…woo-hoo!

Yesterday was a busy day in the clinic–the afternoon, at any rate–but I stayed on top of most everything somehow. Today should be somewhat easier, and I can get caught up on the few things I am behind on (mostly Admin work, processing paperwork from yesterday) before the stay-at-home day and my weekend. I feel pretty good this morning (more sleep would be lovely, but isn’t necessary) and am in a pretty decent mood. I didn’t do a lot yesterday when I got home from work; I went uptown to get the mail after work, which was an adventure because I left the office late. Got some Christmas cards (apologies again, everyone) in the mail, and my Anthropic settlement information. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City–which was a rather silly episode, but quite fun. I caught up on the news, refused to watch whatever speech that was that aired last night (and from what I am seeing this morning, I didn’t miss anything; so to me at least, it seems like it was nothing more than a distraction from the Vanity Fair disaster and all the other disasters rooted in this administration1), and then did some light picking up and filing before going to bed. I feel rested and good, miraculous for a Thursday, and cannot believe Christmas is a week from today. It was dark when I went uptown last night, and on my way home from Uptown last night I saw a lot of decorated houses, which kind of made me feel Christmasy. We’re getting a new television from Costco as a Christmas gift to ourselves. I don’t feel like we really need a new one, honestly, but the one we have is over ten years old, and Paul has been hankering for a new television, for reasons unknown to me, for several months now. I bought our current one at Target on the West Bank as a Christmas gift for the apartment all those long years ago. I don’t really care about gifts anymore, which has been a conundrum these last years because we don’t really need anything, so we’ve kind of abandoned birthday and Christmas presents. We usually, for example, get Chinese food for our birthdays as a treat, or a pizza from a place that’s inconvenient to go to.

I am hoping to get a couple of newsletters done over the weekend and set to post over a week or so; I need to finish my essays on Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem, The Princess Bride, and General Hospital, and I have a new essay series I am planning, about my lifelong obsession with all things ancient Egyptian; which will be a lot of fun to write, methinks2. I also need to finish reading The Postman Always Rings Twice, and start my next read over this weekend as well (it’s looking like a toss-up between a Dorothy B. Hughes classic and the latest Eli Cranor). There’s absolutely no reason I can’t get a lot of reading and writing done over the holiday break, as well as cleaning and organizing with plenty of time to be lazy and relax. Staycations are kind of nice, actually. I also don’t think the clinic is busy next week, either; but after New Year’s, YIKES.

I didn’t watch this week’s new episode of Heated Rivalry, but I did see that Netflix canceled Boots, in what can only be seen as a capitulation of the company to the Pentagon, because the Secretary of Alcoholism didn’t think it “properly depicted the Warrior Ethos of the military.” I’d like to see that drunk rapist adulterous piece of shit make it through Boot Camp, and based on every piece of video evidence I’ve seen, that piece of shit can’t even do a pull-up properly. Such a masculine stud! Netflix also wants to acquire Warner Brothers, so they’re dancing around the Administration’s whining bitch-ass complaints. Leavenworth is too good for this piece of shit’s war crimes, and I also think he should be turned over to the Hague. Anyway, I digressed away from the point (because that piece of shit makes my blood boil), which was that a co-worker asked me in the elevator the other morning if I “wrote m/m romance under a different name.” I was a bit taken aback at first, but I just replied no, but kept thinking about it the rest of the day, and it’s popped back into my head any number of times since then.

I’ve not written anything that could be strictly considered romance other than a couple of short stories here and there over the years. I don’t read much romance–my supervisor loaned me an m/m romance novel last year that I still haven’t read, but writing gay romance (or “m/m”, whatever; but there are distinctions) is something that has occurred to me over the years. I do have several ideas for them, but they’re more romantic stories than actually romance. It would be a challenge, I think, but I love challenges and pushing myself to try to write new things I’ve not done before. I do need to read more romances, though, in order to really write a good one. Ever since Charles (shout out to Charles Click!) mentioned this to me the other morning, a sports one has kind of started taking shape in my head–partly because I already wrote an erotic short story about an athlete (who wasn’t a wrestler, LOL) that could easily be adapted to a novel.

Something to think about, anyway. Maybe after Chlorine.

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 again tomorrow! From my workspace at home between the windows!

  1. At least we’re not invading Venezuela…yet. Happy with what you voted for, MAGAts? ↩︎
  2. And it gives me the opportunity and excuse to watch The Mummy movies with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz again. ↩︎

I’m No Stranger to the Rain

Well, it’s Tuesday morning, so we clearly survived Monday, did we not? It was bitterly cold yesterday morning; I wore a sweater, a jacket, my hoodie under the jacket, and tights under my pants so it wasn’t terrible when I left the house in the morning, either. It’s cold again this morning, and will remain so for the morning; the afternoon won’t be too terrible. I didn’t mind the cold terribly yesterday, because I dressed for it for once rather than not doing so and whining all day about being cold. I hadn’t intended to dress for it again this morning, but looks like I will not have a choice. It’s chilly here inside the windows, but I slept well and feel pretty good this morning. I didn’t do much last night once I got home from work. I did make groceries on my way home, but once I was home and snug and comfy in my easy chair with a purring kitty and my blanket, I didn’t really want to get up and do much of anything, other than catch up on the news and do some more Youtube research. The news was its usual shit-show, the way it has been for at least ten or so years, if not this entire century. Whatever we thought the twenty-first century was going to be like in 1999 is not what we wound up with. Did anyone see this coming other than the Heritage Foundation, Faux News, and the Republican Party1?

I generally don’t comment on celebrity deaths; I don’t know the deceased, after all, and who cares what I think? I was a fan of Reiner and his work–The Princess Bride remains one of my all-time favorite movies, and so eminently quotable, too–and he made a lot of great films I enjoyed. He and his wife Michelle, as you know, were murdered on Sunday, allegedly by their son who has issues, which would have been bad enough but then, of course, sewage is always going to sewage. Even the dolts who are still hanging onto their belief in their tin-pot dictator wannabe, for the most part, were horrified by him this time; why was this time so different than every other time he’s been an insensitive spoiled brat? That’s what I truly find interesting about this latest idiocy. What was it about the Reiner tragedy that triggered such a response from his followers? I mean, it can’t have been empathy, right? So why this time? I can’t quite wrap my mind around this sea change for MAGAts, and I’ll probably wonder about it for a while. But the murders were a tragedy, but both Reiners left a distinguished legacy of work behind them–and Reiner’s films will continue to bring joy to viewers as long as streaming services carry them.

And I really need to do my essay on The Princess Bride, inspired by a conversation on Twitter where I wrote a lengthy tweet-string explaining why I find the movie so magical.

And while we’re commenting on celebrity death, Anthony Geary, long-time portrayer of the anti-hero Luke Spencer on General Hospital, also died recently. I watched the show in the 1970s and 1980s fervently, and Geary was no small part of that; and Luke-and-Laura were legendary in the world of soaps. Genie Francis still plays Laura on the show. The highest rated episode of any daytime soap was the wedding of Luke and Laura back in 1980 or 1981. Geary was gay; I don’t know that he ever publicly came out, but I read it in an article about him shortly after he retired from acting, I think. I guess that’s why I was always a fan. I never got a gay vibe from him, the way I have with other actors, either. So much for my Gaydar, although it’s easy to say it was a subconscious recognition.

I really need to write my General Hospital essay, too.

My God, I am so behind on literally everything. The good news is these are all just personal deadlines, so they are anxiety-inducing (not that I have anxiety anymore–at least certainly not to the life-controlling-and-strangling way I used to). Paul is doing an excellent job of clearing out the bedroom; and I should definitely take some time and do some pruning down of all my shit–including the books–and most especially my paper files. I don’t really feel like those need to be kept anymore, and it’s all just kind of hoarding of a different sort, isn’t it? I also need to clean out the kitchen cupboards, too, and the floors are just a given. Sigh.

We’re also supposed to have rain through the weekend beginning tomorrow, which is marvelous. Cold, gray and rainy makes for a snug weekend at home with Sparky, Paul and blankets. I am definitely going to do some reading this weekend, too.

I am also getting all of my Chlorine notes organized, so I can get into the feel of the book. As I said the other day (yesterday) I think I have finally landed on the character’s voice, and have decided that, despite it being technically a historical (it is set seventy years ago) I think I am going to write it in present tense. Maybe that’s a mistake, but switching from present to past would be time consuming but not terribly difficult to do. I may even try to write the first chapter this weekend, too, and see how it goes.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a toasty terrific Tuesday, and I’ll be back in the morning.

  1. Christ, I am neither an analyst nor a political reporter, but I predicted this outcome back during the Clinton Administration. How did I see it but none of the people paid to be political experts did? ↩︎

Boulder to Birmingham

Thursday, and as always, my last day in the office this week. I was a bit tired yesterday after work, and so didn’t run an errand I’d planned, pushing it off till today–and I am not entirely certain I am not going to simply order things on-line and be done with it. I feel good this morning, but who knows how long that will last before I hit my Thursday wall? Last week, I wasn’t tired on Thursday when I got home; will I be lucky two weeks in a row? We’ll have to see. After I got home last night, I got into my easy chair and caught up on the news and The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, and was back watching news while I fell asleep in my easy chair. Paul had a board meeting last night, so Sparky and I were on our own, and he did NOT encourage me to get up and do things. Such a bad influence, really.

There was some interesting news here yesterday–a controversial Mardi Gras krewe’s founder was arrested. I shouldn’t mention this without knowing any of the details, but obviously as a New Orleans crime writer a bogus Mardi Gras krewe with an arrested founder could be very interesting. More on that later, as I am going to read up on the news reports about what is going on with this. I think it’s the Krewe of Mystic Kings, is/was going to roll on January 5th or 6th, and is something our city council president called a scam. Yeah, I am sure there’s a germ of a book in that story, don’t you? I have any number of Carnival crime stories I would love to write.

And where has December gone? How is it the eleventh already, with Christmas a mere two weeks from today? And New Year’s is three? 2025 hasn’t been the best of years, seriously, but I am not going to celebrate the end of a shitty year because inevitably the following year is even worse. Who knows what fresh horror awaits us in 2026? A depression and economic collapse, perhaps? Heavy heaving sigh. I suppose that also means if I don’t get my Christmas cards done this weekend they won’t get done. The suspense!

But I have some plans for the weekend, and I need to update my to-do list. I want to finish reading Postman, I need to write at least one newsletter, and I need to start some writing on Chlorine. I also need to outline it, do character studies, and build my Hollywood world of the 1950s and its gay underground. I also want to start taking boxes out of the attic and getting rid of more things. (As you can tell, I am now fully awake–thank you, coffee–and am raring to go.) It’s nice to be excited about writing again–it’s nice to be excited about life again, despite the world burning to the ground on the daily. It’s just so nice not to be tired all the time anymore, you know? Fatigue is absolutely real, and horrible to experience. I also have labs ordered for tomorrow morning, so I need to be up and at Quest at eight thirty tomorrow morning, which is fine. Right now, I have changed my mind and will make groceries on the way home tonight…but it will really depend on how I feel. I’m by myself in the clinic today and we’re pretty busy, so like yesterday, I may be drained and tired when I get off work. At least the grocery store is on the way home, you know?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a happy Thursday, Constant Reader, and remember–there are only fourteen shopping days left until Christmas!

Pray to Jesus

Saturday in the Lost Apartment, although I suppose it’s Championship Saturday. I’ll have the games on for background noise but I don’t care about their outcomes. If they’re good games, I’ll watch; if not, I can just check in periodically while I do other things. I still need to put things away from yesterday’s Costco run, and some other touching up around here today, while organizing and pulling all my notes together for my new project, which I intend to commit to entirely tomorrow morning once I rise. Sparky let me sleep late this morning like the little darling he is, even cuddling with me the last few hours before I got up. I feel good and rested this morning. Paul is seeing his trainer today, and will inevitably (like always) spend a few more hours at the gym on the bike. I am looking to get back to the gym myself, probably after Mardi Gras. I feel terrific. My doctor agreed with me that I probably had been experiencing the colitis for several years before it finally got so bad this past spring, and was why I experienced so much fatigue. There’s also a possibility that I have “pernicious anemia” (I love the name. Pernicious–such a fun word!), an opportunistic autoimmune situation that sometimes tags along with colitis and causes Vitamin B-12 deficiency…which can affect memory and fatigue, and would require me to get a monthly shot. Yay.

I also have to get labs drawn again this coming Friday–the same day my next Skyrizi injection arrives in the mail.

We started watching Heated Rivalry last night, and I will have thoughts on it once we’ve finished. (And…it’s another one of those newsletter essays that will play into my series about masculinity.) I also caught up on the news last night after unloading the car and heating a pizza up for dinner. I am debating whether or not to watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, since I detest most of the cast and don’t enjoy watching it anymore. It’s not even a fun hate-watch anymore. I also started my reread of The Postman Always Rings Twice, which is so marvelous and nasty and, above all else, working class, that I see why it bothered people so much when it was originally published in the 1930s. It’s also hella racist, which I didn’t remember–which also explains the casting of Lana Turner in the film; no one would ever mistake her for Hispanic/Latino like Cora in the book. I am also very glad that I am rereading it, because it has that edge of nastiness that noir needs, and isn’t currently present in the first three chapters of Chlorine, and while roaming the aisles at Costco yesterday I was thinking about how to rewrite it. My main character is not a hero, and I have to remember that why I write him. That’s a significant mind shift for me when I write, really.

In football news, Tulane won their conference championship last night and are going to the play-offs for the first time in school history, but reports they were hiring LSU’s Brian Baker proved untrue as it was announced Baker would be staying on in Baton Rouge. LSU football is all over the news still down here, indicating a statewide level of excitement for the new coach that wasn’t there for Brian Kelly, ever, other than after that overtime win over Alabama his first year…but that excitement died down very quickly. Ironic that his best season was his first, rebuilding year, isn’t it? I think part of the excitement is joy at being rid of Kelly, frankly. I was willing to give him a chance, but he never really delivered.

At least he broke the streak of losing season openers that has plagued the Tigers this entire decade, and he did beat Alabama in a thriller in 2022. And he signed Jayden Daniels. Three good things out of almost four seasons.

And on that note, I am heading to my chair to read some more of Postman before getting cleaned up and getting to work on the apartment. I am also going to make chicken chili today, and some chicken salad for Paul. A very big day for me! It’s also gray and chilly and supposed to rain all day, too–an excellent day for reading under a blanket with the television on. I may watch an episode of The American Revolution, which I am really enjoying; it’s so nice to see our history without all the myths and legends that sprang up about it after the second world war.

So have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in on you again tomorrow morning, deal?

Long Long Time

Thursday and my last day in the office before the weekend. I slept really well last night–I even forgot to set the alarm but woke up on time on my own, without an assist from Sparky. My legs feel a bit fatigued, but that’s not a big deal. I was also very productive last night when I got home from work. I did the dishes and finished the laundry, and then made mac ‘n’ cheese for our potluck today at work. (I now have more dishes to do, but that’s okay.) Paul has a gala event for the TWF to attend tonight, so he’ll be home late, probably after I fall asleep. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, by far and away my favorite of these marvelously trashy shows, and went to bed relatively early. Tonight when I get home (after an errand) I will unload the dishwasher and reload it, and try to get the kitchen straightened up as much as I can so I don’t have to do it over the weekend. I also need to make a list for the trip–things to take, and things to get done before I leave–and after I do all that tonight, I’ll probably read for a bit.

Being oblivious, it never dawned on me that this month is Noirvember (despite seeing lots of posts about it, and even commenting on some…my grasp of the obvious is slippery at best) which would have made it perfect for another reading project. Sigh. I should have spent this month reading (and watching) noir! Especially since I am getting ready to really immerse myself in writing one. Making I can make the project Noir for the Holidays, and move it back to December? Heavy heaving sigh. I have a ton of noirs in my ebook library–there was a big sale on the marvelous Dorothy B. Hughes recently and I snapped up quite few of them, and two–Ride the Pink Horse and The Fallen Sparrow– look especially interesting, as do some of the Jim Thompsons I’ve also gotten on sale. I also want to revisit some of James M. Cain’s classics, and maybe even some I’ve not read. I also would like to rewatch In a Lonely Place and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers…so much awesome noir out there!!

I’ve also been revisiting Fleetwood Mac lately, mostly inspired by Buckingham Nicks finally being released on DVD and to streaming services. It’s a great album, yes, but as I listened and enjoyed it, I kept thinking it was missing something. Yesterday on my way to work I played Rumours in the car (and on the way home; today I am listening to Mirage) and it hit me: that is what’s missing from Buckingham Nicks–the keyboards and harmonies of Christine McVie, and that incomparable rhythm section of Mick and John. Some of these songs got repurposed later as Fleetwood Mac recordings, but really–they should have just rerecorded it as a Fleetwood Mac record. The interesting thing about their music collectively is it holds up still, all these years later, and most of the albums are masterpieces.

Oh, if you’re interested in trying my mac ‘n’;’ cheese, the recipe is here, if you’d like to give it a try. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. It is a LOT of cheese, and if you’re dieting, don’t bother, as it also calls for heavy cream, half-and-half, and sour cream on top of about 32 ounces of cheese.

And ICE is here, staying at the Riverside Hilton and apparently using the Riverwalk parking as a staging area for evil. I bet those ICE agents were also really excited about being reassigned to New Orleans…mwah ha ha ha ha. New Orleans is a city known for its, well, everything, but its hospitality is always top notch, unless you aren’t wanted here. Sure, Louisiana is a red state (look at the pitiful fools we sent to Washington and our state government of fools–a true confederacy of dunces), but New Orleans gave 83% of its vote to Harris/Walz. The orangutan never even drew twenty percent of the vote here once in three tries, and immigrants rebuilt this city after Katrina. This isn’t going to go the way ICE thinks it will…and there’s so much interference on a basic level here. It’s not like our streets make sense to begin with, and they are riddled with deceptively deep potholes. We have second-lines all the time, and it’s also marching band practice season with Carnival just around the corner. High speed chases here end in fatalities all the time because the streets make no sense, are often insanely narrow, and change one-way directions all over the city. Compass directions make no sense here; the sun rises over the West Bank every morning and you drive east to get to the north shore. I hope we have several flooding rains here during their stay.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a great Thursday, everyone, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.